#took 3 hours and lots of backtracking but I fucking CLEARED THAT SHIT

[camifornilla]

My booty sparkles cuz my shit’s CLEAN

[vendettaparker]

Reckless [T.H]

Summary: In a fit of jealousy, Tom embarrasses you in front of your new friend and the entire pub, leaving you heartbroken at his reckless actions.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Swearing, angst, slut-shaming 

a/n: hi! sorry this took so so so long for me to get out! i got super busy with other works, but i’m super happy with how this turned out :) i hope you enjoy this, and don’t worry, i know how scary those warnings look ^ but this ends happy, i promise! as always, comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Tom was an idiot. He was an actual fucking idiot. He now realizes that as he watches you run out of the pub with hot tears streaming down your face. He watches as Harry runs after you, your bag in his hand, probably to make sure you make it back home safe since there was no way you’d return to the crowded bar, where Harrison and Sam were giving Tom death glares, the same little pub where Tom had made a complete fool out of you. 

The few months Tom came home to London were always the setting of your most cherished memories. Sometimes it seemed like when he left so did the whole group of friends you surround yourself with.

There was no doubt in your mind that Tom was the life of the party. He had a certain aura about him that caused some of the most fucked up, but amazing situations to occur. That was probably one of the reasons you loved him so much. 

When he was in town, his brothers, Harrison, and Tuwaine all joined together to make the next few months memorable before he had to leave again, and you were always included, but when he was gone, Harry usually went with him, Harrison focused on work for himself, and Sam focused on his restaurant. The world slowed down after Tom left, and so many times, you were left to wait for his return; alone. 

Tom hated leaving you behind every time he went back to the states, but you had such deep roots in London, he didn’t want to pry you from your family for months on end. He loved you too much to constantly subject you to his hectic lifestyle. He spent as much time with you as he could when he saw you, but the second he had to go, it was all tearful goodbyes in a crowded airport. 

You and Tom had been best friends for decades at this point. You supported him no matter what it was that he wanted to accomplish. He’s even said in interviews that he credits a huge bulk of his success to his friend back home, then he’d give a wink to the camera, and you always knew it was for you. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

When Tom came home after filming Spider-Man: No Way Home, you practically tackled him to the ground in a hug. 

“You div,” You mumbled into his neck, “you forgot to let me FaceTime with Zendaya.” 

“Oh, shit!” Tom gasped, finally remembering your request to talk to your favorite actress, “my bad.”

You looked at Tom incredulously, “I don’t think I can be friends with you anymore.” You feigned hurt, clutching your hand to your chest, “it just hurts too much.” 

“That’s a damn shame,” Tom frowned, “I mean, I could just FaceTime Zendaya now, but if that’s how you—”

“I changed my mind,” You smiled sweetly, cutting him off, “love you, bestie.” 

Tom rolled his eyes and pulled you into another hug, “Missed you, bestie.” 

“Um,” Sam, Paddy, and Harrison stood behind you, clearing their throats. 

“Missed you guys too,” Tom sighed, and he rushed over and gave his brothers and friend a hug.

You gave Harry a hug while Tom chatted with his brothers, quickly catching up with him. 

“What’s the plan for tonight, guys?” You spoke up. 

Every night after Tom got back, he’d go back to his flat and take a nap before a night out on the town. Usually, you’d bar hop a bit before going to a club, so tonight wasn’t likely to be any different. 

“I was thinking we could get dinner at Lorenzo’s,” Harry said, “then maybe hit the pub on Ashford?”

You and the others nodded in agreement as you made your way out of the airport.

“Can I invite my friend Avery?” You asked. 

Tom nodded, “Sure, I didn’t even know you had any other friends, (Y/N),” he joked.

“Haha,” You laughed sarcastically, “gee that was a good one, Tom. You really got me.” 

“What can I say?” He smirked, “I’m a comedian.” 

“Is that the guy you met in your philosophy lecture?” Harrison butt in.

“Yeah,” You nodded, “he’s really sweet, so be on your best behavior guys, and maybe don’t be yourselves, just this once?” you suggested with a slightly teasing tone. 

“Are you trying to impress him or something?” Tom inquired.

“No,” You scoffed, “I’m just trying to not throw him to the wolves.” 

Tom laughed along, but it was strained. He wasn’t too keen on the idea of adding a new member to your friend group, and the little glint in your eye when you talked about Avery made his heart tighten. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Okay,” You smiled as you set the last of Tom’s luggage in his living room, “I’ll let you get some sleep then.”

You gave him one last hug and a kiss on the cheek, “see you later.” 

Tom reciprocated and inhaled the sweet smell of lavender in your locks of hair, “mhm,” he sighed, “see ya.” 

Harrison was about to walk out after you when Tom grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him back, “Mate, what the fuck.” he grumbled as he stumbled over his feet, “I thought you wanted to take a nap?”

“I slept on the plane,” Tom explained quickly, “you’ve been here the whole time, right?” Harrison nodded, “so you know this Avery guy, yeah?”

Harrison shook his head, “I haven’t talked to (Y/N) much this past month, but he’s probably on her Instagram.” 

Harrison pulled out his phone and looked at posts you’d been tagged in, “Ah, here.” He handed the phone to Tom and pointed to the tall blonde guy in a group photo with you and some other friends, “He’s the tall blonde.” 

Tom studied the picture with a small frown, “They’re not dating though, right?”

“She said he was her friend,” Harrison shrugged.

“You know what I mean,” Tom rolled his eyes, “do they look really chummy to you?”

“His hand’s kind of close to her butt, but other than that I don’t know.” Harrison pointed it out, causing Tom’s heart to momentarily stop. 

“Ok, new plan,” Tom announced, “I’m going to ask (Y/N) out tonight.” 

Harrison scoffed and rolled his eyes. “What?” Tom wondered.

“You’ve said that almost every single time you’ve been home and you always chicken out.”

“No, I don’t!” Tom gasped in offense, “It’s just hard to find the right time.”

“You’ve literally had hundreds of opportunities to tell her how you feel, Mate.”

“It has to be perfect.” Tom insisted, “I can’t just ask her out of the blue, I have to butter her up first.”

“That’s dumb.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” Tom groaned, “get out, I changed my mind, I’m going to sleep.” 

Harrison rolled his eyes and chuckled before giving Tom a pat on the back and leaving. Tom waved goodbye as Harrison drove away, and then rushed to his phone. 

“FaceTime Zendaya,” he instructed Siri. The call went through and soon Tom was met with Zendaya's tired eyes in a dark room. 

“Hey, Z!” Tom said cheerfully, “best friend, bestest pal in the world. The person that never wants to see me fail ever, my greatest companion—“

“Tom,” Zendaya groggily cut him off, “what the fuck do you want, I’m sleeping.” 

“How do you ask a girl out?”

Zendaya sat up a little more and turned on her bedside lamp, “What? You don’t know how to ask a girl out?”

“Well I do,” Tom backtracked, “but I want it to be special. I’ve been in love with this girl for nearly two years now and every time I go to ask her out, I chicken out.”

“I don’t know, what does she like?”

“Well one time she told me her favorite animal was a sea otter, should I get her one?” Tom pondered, hand resting in his chin in thought. 

“Um, no, what the fuck?” Zendaya squinted her eyes at Tom, “have you gotten any sleep yet?” 

Tom shook his head, “This is important, Z, now help me!” 

Zendaya rolled her eyes, “I’ll text you some ideas, but for now just go get some sleep. With how tired you are now you’d probably call her the wrong name or something.” 

Tom rolled his eyes, but the action caused his eyelids to droop even more, “Fine, fine,” he conceded, “I’ll let you know how it goes.” 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Okay,” Tom announced at the restaurant before you arrived, “I’m going to ask (Y/N) out tonight so I need you all to shut up and not distract me or make me nervous.”

Harrison, Harry, and Sam just stared at Tom. Tuwaine, for some unknown reason, started clapping. 

“Tom,” Harrison began, “no offense, but—“

“Ah ah ah,” Tom stopped him, “is what you’re about to say going to bruise my ego?” Harrison thought about it for a moment before slowly nodding, “okay, then shut the fuck up, respectfully. I don’t need any bad juju tonight.” 

“Well, I’m happy for you, Mate,” Tuwaine nodded. He was the closest to you after Tom and he knew all about your crush on the brown-haired Brit. You might’ve let it slip once when you were drunk, and since you didn’t willingly tell Tuwaine, he was sworn to secrecy. “I’m positive she’ll say yes.” 

“Thank you,” Tom smiled at him, sending a slight glare to the others for their lack of faith in him. “As for the rest of you, I can’t wait to prove you wrong.” 

You walked into the restaurant with Avery hunched over from laughing so hard. Tom smiled in your direction and waved you over, “Hey, (Y/N/N)! Over here!”

“Wow,” You chuckled, “must’ve been a good nap. Little energetic there, huh?” 

Tom went in to give you a tight hug, holding you close, “Just missed you,” he mumbled into your hair. 

“I just saw you a few hours ago?”

Avery stood by you awkwardly, waiting for Tom to release you. Tom reluctantly let you go and pulled a chair out for you, next to him. 

“Thanks,” you smiled at him, motioning for Avery to sit next to you, “hey, everyone,” you smiled at the group of boys that were properly about to piss themselves at Tom’s over-the-top behavior, “this is Avery.” 

“Hi,” He waved at the group as a small chorus of ‘hellos’ rang across the table. He turned to Tom to shake his hand, “I’m a big fan, Mate. Love your work.” 

Tom smiled and patted him on the shoulder, “Thanks, it means a lot.” smiled politely, shaking Avery's hand. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Dinner went off without a hitch, at least in your opinion. Avery was melding well with your friends and he was cracking jokes like he’d know the group for years. 

The boys seemed to enjoy his sense of humor and what he added to the conversation. Sam and him even found that they shared an interest in cooking, which led to them having a slightly heated discussion about how real Gordon Ramsey’s cooking skills are; which ended in laughs. 

However, Tom was probably having one of the worst nights of his life. Every time Avery playfully shoved you while you two laughed he wanted to wring his neck. It also didn’t help that he couldn’t find the perfect time to ask you out. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to ask you out with all of his mates around. 

Tom smiled and laughed along with the jokes, but once you looked away he was back to frowning. 

“Tom,” Harry nudged his brother, “wipe that scowl off your face.” 

“I’m not scowling,” Tom grumbled, “this is my normal face.” 

Harry rolled his eyes and kicked his older brother under the table, “You need to ask her soon. I think Avery is trying to make some moves on her.” Harry noticed, seeing how Avery casually had his arm around your chair. 

Tom rolled his eyes, “As if I can't see that for myself,” he scoffed. “I don’t want to ask her with all of you watching. What if she says no?” 

“We can leave you alone for a bit when we go to the pub, but I’m not sure if Avery will go with us.” Harry shrugged, “you could always ask her out tomorrow.” Harry suggested. 

“No!” Tom exclaimed, causing everyone to look at him and Harry, “Sorry, I—um, I just don’t really like that shirt on you Harry; it makes my eyes hurt.” 

Harry looked down at his shirt for a moment and then frowned, sending a light smack to Tom, “You bought me this shirt you div.”

Everyone went back to their own conversations so Tom leaned in to talk to Harry some more, “I can’t wait for tomorrow. What if I chicken out again?”

“Then you’re an idiot.” Harry deadpanned with a shrug. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The pub was way more packed than anyone expected. The new addition of live music to the outside patio definitely livened up the place and more customers went to see what local band would be playing next. 

The pub had a classic English pub feel, with the wood flooring and the yellow-tinted walls, but it also had a modern twist with a back patio and outdoor seating with fairy lights, and the lights that illuminate under the bar itself. 

“I’m gonna go check out the band,” Harry announced after he came back with your drinks, “you guys should all come with me.” He said with a slight side-eye to Sam, Tuwaine, and Harrison. 

“Eh, I’m not really into—” Sam began, but Harry sent him a quick kick under the table. “Ow! I mean, I love music.” Sam smiled enthusiastically. 

“I’m gonna stay back and finish this beer,” Tom said, holding up the large pint of beer he was already a quarter of the way through, “(Y/N), wanna race to see who can finish first?” He suggested trying to get you to stay behind.

“Oh you’re totally on,” You smirked, “but I am going to take a quick peek at the band. We can race after I get back.” You got up from your seat and began walking away with Harry and the boys. Tom pouted at how horribly that plan worked. Harry looked back at Tom apologetically as he held the door open for you.

“Wow,” Avery smiled beside Tom, scaring him, “she really is something.” 

“Holy shit, Mate,” Tom held a hand to his heart, “you almost gave me a heart attack. I thought you went with them?” 

“Nah,” Avery shook his head, “I’m not really into music,” he shrugged. 

“Oh, okay,” Tom nodded. “What were you just saying?”

“(Y/N),” Avery looked towards the back patio exit dreamily, “she’s amazing. I mean I would definitely ask her out, but probably not at a pub surrounded by her mates, y’know?” 

“Mhm, yeah,” Tom said quietly, his heart already beginning to shatter into millions of inconsolable pieces. “I mean, she’s alright.” He said with a forced laugh, trying to fend Avery away from you, “she definitely isn’t really your type, though.” 

“What do you mean?” Avery asked, taking a sip from his beer, “she’s perfect, mate.”

“I mean,” Tom racked his brain for an excuse big enough to make Avery not want you, “you don’t think it’s a little weird she’s in a friend group with all boys?” 

“No,” Avery said slowly, skeptically looking back at the exit, “she just clicks with boys, I guess. Girls and guys can just be friends.”

“Not her,” Tom scoffed, “I mean, it’s just a little obvious, y’know?”

You and the rest of the boys were heading back in, seeing as the back patio was completely overcrowded with patrons. 

“What’s obvious?” Avery asked, raising his voice slightly due to the volume in the bar. 

“(Y/N)’s only friends are guys!” Tom nearly yelled over the volume of chatter, not realizing that the surrounding customers could hear him, “makes me wonder how many she’s slept with! I mean, that’s not a coincidence to me!” 

The surrounding customers halted their conversations, leaving only Tom’s voice filtering through the air and into your ears. 

“That’s crazy,” Avery chuckled awkwardly, “I don’t think she’s like that.” He shook his head, annoying Tom. In a final last-ditch effort to get Avery off your back, he said the worst thing he could, loudly, into a quieting pub. 

“Well, she hits on me all the time,” Tom shrugged, “she’s just a bit whorish, I guess.” 

“Tom,” Tuwaine cleared his throat, interrupting their conversation, “what the fuck, mate?” 

Tom looked at all the boys next to Tuwaine, and behind them was you, teary-eyed with harsh sobs racking through your body. 

You whispered something to Harry, and then all but ran out the front door. Harry walked over to where Tom was sitting and picked up your purse.

“Harry I—” Tom tried.

“Shut the fuck up, Tom.” Harry snapped, “You're an idiot and an asshole, just leave things be.” 

Harry ran out the pub entrance, following you to give you a ride home. 

Tuwaine, Sam, and Harrison shook their heads once the shock ebbed away. One by one they all left Tom sitting in shock and agony at the bar. Avery, not knowing any of the group, barely knew what was going on or if Tom’s accusations were correct, left the pub and went home without another word. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Harry,” Tom whined into the phone, “please tell me how to fix this, please I’m begging you.” 

Harry sighed, now properly regretting lifting his silent treatment from Tom, “Tom, there is absolutely nothing I can do to help you, and even if there was, I wouldn’t. You called her a whore in front of a crowded pub—”

“I know!” Tom yelled, “And I’ve been living with that guilt for three weeks now! Please, Harry. I-I messed up so bad.” Tom’s voice cracked, “I tried calling and texting, a-and my texts started turning green. She blocked me,” Tom sobbed, “I’m in love with her, and I never got to tell her. I ruined our relationship before it even began.” 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “you did.” 

“Harry, I just want to apologize properly, please.” Tom begged, “I tried going to her house, but her roommate threw a drink at me and told me she went out of town. Where is she?”

“I can’t tell you.” 

“Harry,” Tom sighed, “I’m trying so hard here, I don’t care where she is, I’ll go anywhere for her. Please, I just can’t keep waiting in the dark for her to talk to me.”

Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead, “Okay, fine, but don’t tell her I told you where she was. And if you get your face clawed off, just know that you deserve it.” 

“Okay, okay, now tell me.”

“She’s been staying with Tuwaine and his girlfriend.” 

“Okay, thanks, love you, bye!” Tom said through the phone, already grabbing his keys. 

Harry sighed and began texting Tuwaine, 

Harry: Tom’s coming over, don’t snap him in half, he just wants to talk to her. 

Tuwaine: I’m not home right now, but I'd be more worried about her snapping him in half… 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Tom pulled up the Tuwaine’s flat and pounded at the door. He didn’t see Tuwaine’s car in the driveway but he saw yours parked on the street so he knew you were in there. 

“(Y/N)!” He desperately called, “Come on, I know you’re in there!”, his pleas were met with silence and he rang the doorbell on repeat, “(Y/N), please! I just want to talk!”

The door opened to show you standing there with your messy hair and stained sweats, still looking overwhelmingly perfect in Tom’s eyes. He noticed the dark circles and the dried tears and his heart broke, even more, knowing he caused this. He loved you so much and he caused you some of the worst pain imaginable. All he wanted to do was hold you and kiss your puffy cheeks, desperately whispering praises into your ear. You were perfect in every sense of the word, and he let you believe you were anything less. He was an idiot—the biggest idiot in the world—for making you cry. 

“What do you want?” You snapped with a sniffle, pulling him back to reality as you rubbed your red eyes. 

“I just want to talk,” Tom gave you a small smile, “please.” 

“I don’t have anything to say to you.” You scowled, “You need to leave.” 

“No, (Y/N), please.” Tom begged, “I’m sorry. I’m so so so fucking sorry. I was being an idiot and—please, (Y/N), you’re my best friend. I don’t wanna lose you.” Tom’s voice cracked, but you remained stoic in the doorway. 

“I’m your best friend? Really?” You scoffed, “I thought I was just some whore you let hang around you?” 

Tom winced at his words being thrown back into his face, “I didn’t mean it, I swear,” he promised, tears glistening in his eyes, “I don’t even know why I said that. I was being so fucking stupid—” 

“No,” You interrupted his rambling, “you don’t get to say that. You don’t get to say that it was just you “being stupid”. Who the hell says that about their supposed best friend? Why would you even think that? You don’t just get to call me those things in public, and then say that you don’t know why you did it. You can’t even give me a reason—”

“I’m in love with you,” Tom blurted out, blowing out a puff of air in stress, “I’ve been in love with you for the longest time, (Y/N). And Avery was saying how he wanted to ask you out, and I couldn’t lose you. I didn’t want to lose you. I had so many plans for us, and I wanted to be with you—to be yours—more than anything, and I let my jealousy get in the way. I’m sorry because if I deserved you I wouldn’t have done that.”

You stood in the doorway of the flat, arms crossed over your chest. “I can’t believe you’d be so reckless.” You said after a moment of silence, “I would’ve been yours if you had just asked me.” 

“I’m sorry,” Tom cried, reaching out to hold your hand, but you backed away ever so slightly, “please, I would do anything to fix it if I could.” 

“You don’t understand anything, Tom.” You frowned.

“Help me understand.” He begged.

You pondered it for a moment and then released a sigh, coupled with a few tears, “I loved you,” you admitted. Tom’s heart did a leap, but then he realized that you were talking past tense as if his chance with you was gone.

“And I would spend months and months just waiting for you to come home so I could spend time with you. I was so lonely when you and Harry left; I always am. Avery offered to spend some time with me after class one day and I agreed because I don’t have anybody else when you leave. And it was fun, but he wasn’t you. He’ll never compare to the place you had in my heart, but at least I wasn’t alone anymore.” You sighed and began closing the door again, “Now, because of you, I have no one again.” 

The door was about to slam back in Tom’s face, but he shoved his foot in the threshold, “(Y/N), wait,” he pleaded, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how important Avery was to you. I can never undo what I did, but please let me make it up to you. I just need you to understand how sorry I am.” 

You opened the door again and looked at Tom’s sad eyes, boring into you, “I do understand how sorry you are, but I don’t know how I can trust you again. You said awful things about me without even batting an eye or taking a breath—”

“I know,” Tom sighed, “I know and I’d give anything to take it back. I just want you back (Y/N). Even if you don’t want to be my girlfriend, I can’t leave knowing I’ve lost my best friend.” 

“As much as it hurts,” You caved, moving from the doorway to let Tom in, “I still love you, and I don’t want to lose you either.” 

Tom smiled and walked into the flat, immediately pulling you into a hug, “I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” You hugged back and sniffled into his hoodie, before pulling away with a sigh.

“I know,” You nodded, “I forgive you. But next time, just be honest with me and tell me how you’re feeling. I’d give you the world if you asked for it.”

Tom smiled and stroked your tear-stained cheek, “I’ll just settle on your heart for now, if that’s okay?”

“That’s so fucking cheesy.” You giggled, wiping the tears from your eyes, “I love it.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

✧tags & moots✧ @ptersmj @princessofguineapigs @peterbenjiparker @cherrytholland @itsapeterthing @justapurrcat @thirstiestpotato @kelieah @iovebug  @waitimcomingtoo  @rosyparkers  @parkers-gal @allegra-writes @starktonyx  @celestialholland  @hollandcrush  @londonspidey @blissfulparker @spidernerdsblog @spidey-sophie @spideyspeaches @peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology @andilovetowrite @sinisterspidey @asonofpeter @westcoastcigar @arlo-sanders @love-peterparker @boiolay @letssee2468  @white-wolf1940 @fandom-life-12 @hollandsdream @annathesillyfriend @lovelybarnes @miseryholland @wierdteenagenerd @duskholland @hollandprkr @lauras-collection @arvinsescape @hollandsrecs

[peachyteabuck]

hustle make you high (sub!lance tucker x femdom!reader)

summary: it’s your anniversary, and this is how you and lance celebrate

pairing: sub!lance tucker x femdom!reader

words: 2,395

trigger warnings: femdom, riding, restraints

ask box / masterlist / faq / ko-fi

Lance Tucker is nothing short of an absolute fucking asshole. He’s stubborn, way too observant in the absolute worst way, and blunt to a fault. No matter where he is and what he’s supposed to be doing, Lance Tucker will find a way to tell you why what you’re doing is 1) wrong, 2) that it annoys him, 3) that you’re a terrible person, and 4) that he doesn’t like you.

Anyone who knew Lance Tucker when he was still competing knows that he’s a stuck-up asswipe of a gymnast, and he only got worse when he began coaching. A control freak with a God complex, the man will push any button to remain in charge of any and all situations that he is involved in. The man is focused on his fame (or, more accurately, the perception of fame) than anything else, especially the feelings of other people.

In short, he’s a total, utter dick.

God, you’re totally and completely in love with him.

He’s a fantastic husband in every sense of the word, along with being a wonderful friend. He’s sweet and caring, always putting your needs over his own. He remembers every anniversary, every birthday, every small achievement in relation to your work.

You absolutely fell in love with him on your first date together, it didn’t even take an hour for you to know he was the one. It was a blind date, set up by two of your mutual friends. Well, actually, it was a bet between the two of them. One thought you two would be too different to hit it off, but the second person knew better - much, much better.

On your first date, Lance was a bumbling mess who could barely get out a sentence. It was positively adorable. Lance was chivalrous, sweet. Everything, and you mean everything you had heard about him had been completely and utterly false. He asked you about what you did for work, why you chose your incredibly boring field of a tax law, what it was like, and so on. He took a genuine interest in you, what you did, who you were as a person. It was so completely different from every other guy you’d ever tried to date and it was so refreshing.

When you asked about him, though, he seemed even more nervous than before. He stuttered, and it was obvious he was worried of what you would think of him. When he dropped you off at your house (and walked you to your door - what a gentleman), you kissed him on the cheek and he blushed like a schoolgirl and bit his lip like a teen caught in a massive crush.

You loved it.

Immediately after you got all your makeup off and changed into a more comfortable outfit (your first date had been a fancy dinner halfway across town and all you wanted to do was wear sweatpants, take your bra off, and wear the comfiest/grossest shirt you could find), you scheduled your next date. It was the week after when you met at your favorite small coffee shop right after the lunch rush. You and Lance talked for hours about your lives and what you wanted out of them. You asked him about training and a gym addition he was planning; he asked you about a case you were thinking of taking up. When he had to leave for a night session with a girl who missed the morning one, you went for it and kissed him. Just straight up. He seemed stunned, but after the initial shock wore off he went in for another. It was magical. His hands tenderly placed themselves on your waist, resting on your thick green sweater. You wrapped your arms around his neck, locking him close to you. The only thing that could’ve made it better was if there was a small drizzle of rain, a way to seal the romantic moment.

When you stepped away, the dopey look that flashed on his face made you want even more. You wanted to mess up his perfectly gelled hair and jump his bones.

But you were a lady, and ladies wait until the third date. And, if that third date happened to be less than forty-eight hours later, that’s okay. It was dinner at your place. Normally, you’d mind always making the first move. But something about Lance convinced you that you being a driving force was okay. You guessed that it wasn’t that he didn’t want to initiate a lot of things, it’s just that he was nervous. And if you liked anything, it was making extremely pretty boys extremely nervous. Maybe it was because you’ve always liked control. Maybe it was because your desk job made you feel useless. Maybe it was because things you’ve always liked things that made you feel like you were sexy, a feeling you’ve never really felt before.

Either way, that night, you were getting it. You were determined to fuck him (with his consent…of course…). You didn’t care if that meant some boring missionary shit or you riding his dick and/or his face for two hours; you two were cumming. Together. Coming together.

The meal you had cooked was normally pretty simple, but instead of just roasted chicken slices you cooked an entire one so you could carve it. You thought it would be a good thing to take your sexual frustration on (since you know…large knives and stuff).

The man of the hour arrived at six o’clock sharp, just as you’d instructed him to. It took all of your might not to cum right then and there, not only because he had followed orders, but also because he was punctual. It’s one of your biggest pet peeves - when people don’t show up on time, and it happens all the time at work. The last thing you want is to come home to someone who can’t find a place on time. It sent a shiver up your spine as you wiped your hands on a dish towel before you went to open the door.

Lance was dressed the sexiest you’d ever seen him. His jeans were tight, and his shirt hugged his body like latex. It was white, and you could almost see his obnoxious tattoo through it. It took all of you not to pull him in the door by his neckline and suck him off right then and there. Just a second, Y/N, let the man have dinner first, is all you could do to keep yourself from jumping him right then and there.

Ever the gentleman, he also brought you some flowers.

That’s when you decided to get your power back. As you and him made small talk (he mostly just asked about your home, which you happily answered), you “struggled” to find a vase.

In truth, you know where the want you want is, it’s up high. Despite this, you choose to look through all of the lower cabinets, so you can show off how tight the dress you’re wearing is.

It’s obvious when he catches sight of your ass, because Lance immediately stops speaking. The only sound in the kitchen is the sizzling of green beans. When you turn around, faux-perplexed as to the whereabouts of your favorite crystal vase, Lance is smirking.

“I thought you said the bank turned you down for that loan,” the line is shaky, he’s obviously nervous as he says it. It makes you quiver a little, admittedly. You love making boys nervous.”

You shake your head, confused. “If you’re trying to hit on me by bringing up the worst part of this year…”

Lance immediately backtracks. “No, no I mean, that like they said you didn’t have any…assets…”

That’s when you get it. He’s trying to creatively compliment your figure. You break down giggling, flustered. “That’s…that’s good. I haven’t heard that one before.”

When you finally “find” the vase, you realize it’s a little higher than you remember. You need help reaching it for real…and-

Shit. This isn’t how you planned for the night to go.

“I, uh,” You gulp, turning back around with heat dusting your cheeks. “Can you help me reach the vase?”

Lance laughs and gets up, moving to easily grab what you cannot.

That is the first time you see the now-famous tattoo up close, and the first time you drag his face down to your level so that you can make out with him against your kitchen counter.

Now, after three years of dating and four years of marriage, nothing has changed between you two.

He may have become an incredibly selective and successful coach; you may have become a partner at your firm. You may have moved to a house that’s better for entertaining his gymnasts and your lawyer friends/foes/potential clients. You may have adopted some cats. Everyone may have called you a power couple and banned both of you from drinking at any and all office parties at both of your jobs. Some coworkers may have also had to be convinced not to tell your respective bosses about you making out (and worse) in bathrooms and empty conference rooms and storage closets and each of your offices.

But in your relationship? Nope.

You still absolutely adore each other. Lance still gets those flutters in his stomach that always make him stutter around you. You still love making him nervous. Most importantly, you both still loving having sex. Together. With each other.

Some nights are lighter than others, some require days of planning. You’re (mostly) past hook ups in utility closets, preferring to sleep in your own bed.  

Which is why you tease him all throughout dinner, flat out banning him from clearing it of its contents and thereby not allowing him to fuck you on it.

This is likely why when you lure him upstairs and push him onto the bed, he immediately becomes pliant.

It’s cute, almost, the way he’s reacting to your touch, how his breath hitches when your nails trace over his muscles – his shirt long discarded and you looming over him.

“You want me to tie you up, baby?” you coo, heat in your center pulsing as he moans. “You want me to fuck myself down on your cock while all you can do is watch?”

Lance whines high in his throat, nodding.

“Yes, please tie me up,” he moans.

And who are you to deny him?

You abide by his wishes easily, undressing him the rest of the way before tying his arms and legs so that he lays spread-eagle in the center of the bed.

Once he’s secured you strip yourself, removing each item of clothing slowly as he strains his neck to watch you.

“God you’re so beautiful,” he moans. “Please fuck me!”

You smile as – finally – your panties are discarded. Wordlessly you climb over him once more, aligning him with your dripping center, moaning lewdly as he bottoms out.  

“Please let me touch you,” Lance groans, pulling at the restraints. “C’mon, let me make you feel good.”

“I’ll think about it,” you mumble breathlessly as you used your hips to grind down onto his cock. “Let me feel you first.”

“God I love your pussy,” he moans, hands flexing in their fixed position. “Fuck it feels so good!”

You giggle, grinding down onto his cock. Maybe it’s because you’ve forced him into abstinence for the past week, maybe it’s because it’s your anniversary and you’ve been stuck in this hazy love cloud for days.

“You want me to untie you?” You ask. Immediately, Lance is moaning and nodding his head deliriously. “You want your hands on me while I cum on your cock?”

“Fuck yes!” Lance begs, fucking harder into you. “God please let me touch you, oh my God.”

You unclick the ankle restraints first, then lean forward to free his wrists, using his chest for balance.

“Your tits look really good at this angle,” he says with one of his big, show-stopping smiles.

You laugh as you readjust, moaning as you slide back onto the cock. “Yeah? They still look good from here, too?”

Lance’s hands roam your body, landing on your ass. “Hell yeah, they do.”

You ride him with everything you have, moaning in tandem with him.

“C-can I rub your clit?” he asks, head thrown back and eyes screwed shut. “Can I please make you cum?”

You smile, tossing your hair to the side and gazing down at him. “Yes, but you can’t cum yet.”

Lance looks pained at not being allowed to cum but remains eager to give you pleasure – sucking his thumb into his mouth before quickly finding the most sensitive part of you.

It doesn’t take long before you’re coming undone with him inside of you – eyes rolling back in bliss.

It’s only when the ringing in your ears stops when you see Lance is nearly lost to his own pleasure.

You smack his right thigh to remind him of his place. “Don’t forget to ask permission, baby,” you hit the left one slightly harder. “It’s our anniversary, but it doesn’t mean our rules have been suspended.”

Lance struggles to swallow before speaking. “Please, can I come? I need to come-“

“Not yet,” you hiss, not letting him finish. You continue to ride him, slowly moving your hips up and down as your eyes roll back once more.

Lance, in all his obedience, could never give up his stubbornness.

“Please!” he cries out, tension in his voice indicating how close he really is.

You smile as you grind down on his cock once more. “Cum.”

His face immediately relaxes, head thrown back and mouth agape as he comes inside of you with moan so loud you worry the glass of water next to the bed will shatter.

“Oh, fuck that feels good,” he says, panting. “Your pussy always feels so fucking good.”

You laugh, also breathless. “I appreciate it.”

It takes a minute for you to find the energy, but eventually to grab a tissue to clean off before crawling back into bed with your husband.  

You curl up into Lance’s chest, tracing random patterns into his sweaty skin.

“Happy anniversary, baby,” he says, chest rumbling as he does so.

“Happy anniversary,” you say back, leaving a small kiss over one of his deepest bruises.

[floralseokjin]

— crystallised 04 (m)

crystallised /ˈkrɪst(ə)lʌɪz/ (verb) make or become definite and clear

Six weeks, that’s all it takes to forget about the threesome you shared with your boyfriend, Yoongi, and your past…fuck buddy, Seokjin. After all, it’s no big deal. Yoongi and you are doing better than ever, there’s no reason to regret such a night shared. That is until you hear some gossip in the library one day, and then slowly, little by little, everything starts to fall apart… Can you begin to make sense out of all this confusion, or is it too late?

pairing; kim seokjin x reader genre/warnings;  college au, flashback indicated by italics (smut), slight angst, quite a lot of fluff, slow burn in a way, we’re still soft for moam seokjin 🤧 words; 24,347

sequel to; memoirs of a mistake and lostmyhead

chapters; 01 ⤑ 02 ⤑ 03 ⤑ 04 ⤑ 05 ⤑ 06 ⤑ 07⤑ 08 ✓

Yoongi came to pick up his things a few days after the break up like he said he would. The toothbrush and the razor left in your bathroom, a beanie, his hoody that he kept draped over your couch and then a pair of earphones you’d found on your bedside table. It all fitted into one bag. All you had to show for your relationship. All that was left. Once again, you were left wondering if you felt this way because of a broken heart, or if it was your own bitter disappointment at yet another failed relationship… This one wasn’t supposed to end like this. Yoongi was different, yet now you stood in front of him feeling like a stranger. Strange how things could change in a blink of an eye. When you finally stopped living in a dream world… 

“There’s really nothing that we can do?” 

You couldn’t help it. Despite knowing this wasn’t meant to be, knowing Yoongi and you weren’t right together, there was something still so desperate in you. Desperate for love, for happiness. It was pathetic really. Were you really willing to hold onto a relationship that wasn’t meant to be? You tried to think of Lina’s words of comfort as Yoongi shook his head sadly and embraced you. “Just because Yoongi is pretty much perfect doesn’t mean he’s right for you, and that’s okay. You’ll meet someone who is soon enough… Quit obsessing over it. It’ll only hurt more.”

You wrapped your arms around his middle, squeezing him tight just like your eyes. The way he smelt so familiar made your heart clench, seeming to beat in slow motion. Everything about him was familiar, but it didn’t seem like yours anymore. He wasn’t yours anymore, if he ever was… The past few days had made you think about a lot. The differences between Yoongi and you, ones that were probably small and meaningless but now seemed like enormous gaping holes in your doomed relationship. Lina was right. Yoongi was perfect, but he wasn’t your perfect. You needed to let that sink in and let him go. 

The strange thing was, once he left, you didn’t feel like crying. The morning had been nerve wracking while waiting for him to turn up, afraid you were going to burst into tears at seeing his face and make a fool of yourself, but it never came. There was sadness of course, but it just stayed heavy in your chest, there, but bearable. You phoned Lina shortly after, explaining what happened and told her how you felt. “That’s a good thing, right? No more tears”, she’d asked, and you had to agree. This was it. Things were back to how they used to be before Yoongi. That wasn’t a bad thing, it would just take some getting used to. You’d slowly feel less sad, less empty and more yourself. 

Lina asked if you wanted her to come over before work for a little while, just to keep you company but you declined. You’d be fine, you were fine. You needed to get used to being alone again, because since you’d told her about the break up she’d been like your second shadow. You’d only just gotten rid of her yesterday, because, yes, she had insisted on sleeping over 3 nights in a row, and yes, you had told her about the threesome-that-should-never-be-mentioned… You should have waited until she wasn’t chewing on popcorn to drop the bomb because you were about two seconds away from performing the Heimlich maneuver on her before the piece luckily dislodged itself. 

She was still trying to process the information to be honest, second guessing her opinion on Yoongi, because yes, she expected that type of behaviour from Seokjin, but Yoongi?! That was different. She couldn’t work out why he’d agreed to it… She couldn’t work out why you had agreed to it… But you weren’t about to dissect your brain to find the answers. It had happened, it was done. History. “Is it though? Seokjin’s sniffing around again pretty quickly…” had been her retort, to which you’d rolled your eyes at. Telling her you’d also hung out the night after the break up had been a mistake if she was going to make insane assumptions.  “We’re going to try being friends…” You’d sighed, knowing it was probably never going to get through to her. 

“TRY?! What does that mean? Do not tell me you’re even thinking about going back there?!”

“Of course not.” You’d punctuated slowly, glaring at her. “It means we’ve never been just friends before and we want to try because believe it or not, I like Seokjin as a person. Maybe if you looked past your poor misjudgement you’d see he’s not that bad.” 

“Seems fake, but okay.” 

You had to shut yourself up in the end, unsure why you were so defensive over him to begin with. Seokjin probably didn’t give a shit what Lina thought about him. So you shook your head, dismissing the stupid conversation. “Trust me, if Seokjin wanted to sleep with me again, he’d just say it outright. He doesn’t work under false pretences.” 

It was dumb even saying the words. Seokjin and you were also done, just like you and Yoongi. History. The only difference was there was little damage done between you both, a friendship could still happen. With Yoongi, despite what he said, it seemed impossible to be just friends right now. You knew he hadn’t wanted to hurt you, and you knew the break up was the right choice, but now your trust in him was a little tainted…

Lina had relented anyway, knowing it was none of her business to interfere, just like she relented when you insisted you could handle today on your own. There were floors to vacuum, laundry to wash, Netflix series to binge… You’d be fine. Although, when your phone rang again ten minutes later you were 95% sure it was her again, unable to take no for an answer. However, it wasn’t. 

It was Seokjin. You felt oddly nervous when you answered. You hadn’t seen him nor heard his voice since the other night he’d come around with take out, but you’d messaged on and off in between, and yes, you had wished him luck for his test. It was still a little new, this friendship thing, and it seemed you both didn’t know how to get it to progress without feeling awkward. He sounded awkward now as he spoke… 

“Hey… How are you?” He didn’t give you time to reply. “How did things with Yoongi go? Unless he hasn’t been yet–Has he been yet? Sorry,” he broke off to chuckle quietly at himself. “I’m bombarding you. I just… I wanted to see if you’re okay…” 

That touched you, made your chest warm, a smile appearing on your face that you were kinda glad he couldn’t see right now. “I’m fine, Dad.” 

“Dad?” He repeated, confused laughter now ringing in your ears. “You know I don’t like being called that.” 

You rolled your eyes, but at the same time not quite believing he’d gone there. Automatically your mind went places. You and him. A few months back. That was dangerous territory. You shook your head, physically shaking the memories away. “There’s a difference, Jin. Dad means you’re acting like my literal dad right now.” 

“Ew,” he simply replied, before he paused. He sounded hesitant when he continued. “I can tell by your voice that everything’s okay?” 

“Yeah,” you sighed lightly. You’d mentioned to Seokjin that today was the day last night through text, but you weren’t expecting him to phone and check up on you. That was sweet of him. “Yoongi left about half an hour ago. Took his stuff. I didn’t cry, so that’s good.” 

“Definitely,” Seokjin agreed quietly. 

You could hear people chattering in the background, guessing he was out in public somewhere. You absentmindedly stretched your arm above your head, catching yourself in the mirror where you stood and carried on talking. “So now I guess that’s it. I get used to being a lonely, old cat lady – just without the cats.” 

That made him snicker. You smiled. You always did like making him laugh. “Shut up. Hey, are you staying at home today?” 

“Mhm hm,” you nodded. Unable to help feeling a little curious. 

“Oh.” There was a pause, and you wondered if that was it. Was he just making small talk? It had sounded like he was about to suggest something. You waited patiently. Maybe a little hopefully. You heard him take a large breath. At least it sounded that way. “I’m in the Starbucks near campus trying to hit 2k words on this essay. Wanna join me?” 

You caught yourself smiling again. You’d been right. “Won’t you get distracted?” 

He scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself.” Before quickly backtracking. “Just kidding.” As if you didn’t know. “Can’t you bring some work along? We can motivate each other.” 

Hm. You had already told Lina you were going to stay in and do housework but fresh air seemed like something that could do you good. There was no point staying inside and moping around, plus, you could make a start on some assignments… “I do have something in by Thursday.” You made up your mind instantly. 

“Perfect.” 

“Give me half an hour.” 

You were a little longer than that. You needed to brush your hair, then change, because 2-day old sweats probably weren’t acceptable. Somewhere along the way you decided to apply some make up, the first time since the break up. It was really no big deal, you could’ve gone without, but it felt good to feel a little more human again. You grabbed what you needed and text Seokjin you were leaving. Starbucks was only about a ten-minute walk away so he knew when to roughly expect you. You were oddly excited. It had been a few days since you’d last seen him and if you were being honest, you’d been wondering when the next chance to hang out would arise. 

He greeted you with a, “Got you a tea. Two sugars. Just how you like it,” which for some reason struck at heartstring. 

“You remembered.” 

“Of course.” He gave a little shrug as you pulled up the chair opposite him. “It wasn’t that long ago, plus you’re like the only person I know who hates coffee.” 

That was true. He’d found it out the first time you’d (accidentally) slept over. Handing you a coffee in the morning definitely didn’t make you happy. Nor did not having any tea bags in his apartment. He soon learnt. 

“What’s your essay on?” You asked, motioning to his laptop and laughed when he pulled a face. 

“I don’t know. Something about the London stock market or some shit.” 

“How come Kim Seokjin majors in the most boring subject known to man?” 

“I’m hardly fun, am I?” He chuckled. Thinking about it, Seokjin was probably the dorkiest certified fuckboy you’d ever known, so maybe the business major did suit him really well. He was a good boy really. You teased him with that immediately when he judged you for pulling an iPad out of your bag to write your essay. (Who writes essays on an iPad?!) A good boy who always did his assignments on time (nearly) and always studied hard. How adorable. 

He took your ribbing all afternoon, even though surprisingly you did manage to get some work done. You probably would’ve stayed there until an employee kicked you out but Seokjin had a shift at the campus gym to get to. It was in your direction home, so you said you’d walk with him as you waited for him to shove his things into his backpack. 

“You look happier today,” he smiled your way as you left. Maybe he’d wanted to tell you that sooner considering how his shoulders relaxed a lot more as you began walking. The side eyes hadn’t gone amiss. 

“I have make up on.” You informed him. That could deceive anyone. 

He laughed, nudging your shoulder with his. “That’s not it.” Another side eye, a small small. 

“What?” You giggled. Maybe you did feel happier? You were so sure today would hurt the hardest, but in actual fact, you just felt lighter. The worst was done. 

“Nothing,” Seokjin shook his head lightly. “I just thought you’d be really cut up, that’s all.” 

“What do you want from me?” You exclaimed dramatically with a laugh. “Want me to be crying on your shoulder?!” You nudged him this time. He stumbled a little and you rolled your eyes, unable to tell if he was just messing with you. 

“No,” he whined. “I want this. Hearing your laugh again. You rolling your eyes at me. Watch it.” He warned, pointing his finger as he caught you doing it again. “You’ll lose them.” You both laughed together as you walked on. Yes, maybe it was slightly awkward, conversation stunted because Seokjin was still second guessing his comforting skills and you were unsure on how much to divulge in fear of making him too uncomfortable. Not that you really had much to tell anymore. You mostly just wanted to forget this horror of a week, so really, Seokjin was doing a great job. You told him just as much. 

“Thank you.” He looked comically unsure as he glanced at you. “For today. I’m happier because this cheered me up.”

 A crooked smile appeared on his face but you barely had any time to acknowledge it because you were taken by surprise when his arm wrapped around your shoulder. It took you a stunted moment to realise he was swiftly moving you out of harms way. Two seconds away from colliding with a man in suit who was looking down at his phone as he headed towards you. Embarrassingly, your own body had acted without command and it was too late to stop your own arm from clinging around his middle. Like a reflex. A strange and stupid reflex. You quickly removed it and and muttered your thanks. 

If he noticed your awkwardness he didn’t bring it up. Instead, chuckling under his breath, he squeezed your shoulder before sliding away. “I’m getting good at this friendship thing.” You nodded in agreement, gaze locked on the floor, but his sudden voice in your ear made you jump. “I’m glad you’re okay.” It was embarrassing, how skittish you felt over nothing. What was up with you? You were definitely allowed to touch Seokjin, and the action shouldn’t make you feel so embarrassed. You were being dumb. You shook yourself internally, looking up at him to agree. “Me too.” 

He grinned, showing no signs he’d noticed your odd behaviour and you relaxed, a little more normal now when you felt his palm at the small of your back, gently pushing you forward. “Come on. Before my boss slits my throat.” 

The walk wasn’t too long away from the gym, but you still scolded him as you rushed, wondering why you couldn’t have left earlier if he knew he had to get to work. You arrived at the glass doors a little out of breath and slightly warm. Seokjin was of course looking as perfect as always. No blemishes on his face while you had to hide about 4 today with concealer. You saw him off with a, “Good luck finishing that really boring essay,” wondering silently when you’d get to see him next. 

He grinned. “Thanks. I’ll need it. Hey–” His hand reached for your wrist, stopping you from leaving as you turned, and you tilted your head, wondering what he could want. He shuffled on his feet, suddenly unable to meet your eyes. “This sounds really random… You can say no if you want to.” He paused to shrug. “It’s just I really want to see Endgame but everyone I know is going with their girlfriends so unless I third wheel—which I doubt they’ll let me anyway, I have no one to go with…” He stopped to glance at you, sounding hopeful. “What do you say?” 

Your eyebrows creased together. “What’s Endgame?” Either you were really dumb or Seokjin was just forgetting who he was talking to. Maybe it was a bit of both by the sounds of his voice. 

“Serious?” Your blank expression told him that you were. He whined your name dramatically, clocking into work now the last thing on his mind. “It’s the new Avengers movie. The Avengers. Please tell me you know what I’m on about because otherwise we cannot be friends.”

“Of course I know what you’re on about. I just didn’t know there was a new movie, that’s all.” You shrugged and he looked instantly relieved. “I’ll come with you. Hate for you to be a loner.” 

“Really?” He sounded surprised.

You nodded with a hum. “I’ll have no clue what’s going on, but it’s fine.” 

“I’ll fill you in. Come on, you know Iron Man, right?” 

“Yes,” you exhaled. You weren’t completely stupid. “I know Iron Man. Robert Downey Jr is pretty hot.” He paused at that, visibly bemused. Whatever. You said what you said. 

“Go!” You exclaimed instead, waving your hand. He was going to be late, and you weren’t having him being fired on your conscience. “Before your boss slits that pretty little throat of yours.” 

Shit. Pretty?? Why had that left your mouth? You could tell by his small smirk he caught on too. You tried to hide the shock from your face. No big deal. It was a just a saying. You turned on cue, ready to dash. “I’ll text you tomorrow? We can work out when we’re both free?” 

You nodded quickly, turning to wave. “Bye, Seokjin.” 

.

.

…And with that your friendship began. At first it was… odd. Not a bad odd by any means, just weird. Weird to have him back in your life and weird in the way it was. Not even a year ago you’d found it hard to believe you were fuck buddies, in the loosest form of friendship, but now it was just buddy, and that was equally as hard to believe. At first. 

Once the bizarreness wore off, Seokjin’s company became so natural there didn’t seem to be a day that went past where you didn’t contact one another in some form or even hang out together. It was like he’d never not been there. Only this time it was better. You both agreed. 

Friendship blossoming between the two of you may have seemed impossible to others, considering the history that you shared, Hell, it had even seemed impossible to you, but it came easily and naturally. You enjoyed learning new things about him, and you thought it was the same for him. Why else would he be so keen to hang around? You didn’t know if Seokjin was having some kind of identity crisis or if he was just showing a new side of himself to you, but these days, he was different. Not vastly – the Seokjin you had grown to be fond of was still there, knew how to teasingly exasperate you, knew how to make you laugh, but now he was a little more serious, more mature. You’d seen glimpses of that behaviour when you were both hooking up, but to be honest the sex kind of distracted you from anything else, clouded your brain… You weren’t particularly interested in his friendship back then, it had just sort of come as a vague added bonus. One you passively enjoyed but didn’t think much about. 

Only, now you did see how much you’d missed him. You liked having him back in your life in this new way, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t help distract you from your break up with Yoongi. Your chest was still heavy for a while afterwards, but you couldn’t even tell if it was a broken heart or a bruised ego. Maybe it was both, or neither… Sometimes the sadness felt strange and you couldn’t place it. Your head was still a mess and it looked like you’d never get any real answers—from Yoongi and your own mind and heart. You hated it, but you continued to remind yourself of the positives. You had loving parents only a few blocks away, great friends, Lina, who had always been your best, Seokjin… School was going well, work too, ever since you’d left shitty Wendy’s. You couldn’t really complain if one thing had gone wrong, could you? Time was all you needed, and gradually, that time with Yoongi became just a memory… Life continued going. 

Seokjin   Am I your best friend ?

You   what do you want 

You knew Seokjin well enough to know when he was buttering you up. Even after the time spent apart, it was still easy to spot the signs. That, and with these past couple of weeks,  Seokjin seemed to love using the friendship you two now had as some sort of leverage for god knows what. It was buying him lunch last week because he’d conveniently forgotten his wallet at home. Two days ago it was giving him a ride to Namjoon and Hoseok’s place because his car was out of gas and he didn’t want to walk. Now it was what exactly? The suspense was killing you. 

Seokjin   You know me well  But answer the question 

You  no 😂  lina is !!

Seokjin  😔 Am I your best guy friend then?

You yes but only by default

You had no other guy friend who messaged you at 2am just as you were about to hit the hay asking if you wanted to grab breakfast in the morning and then proceeded to unload his day on you as you lay there in the dark, glow of your cellphone screen hurting your eyes. Not that you minded really. You still felt like you owed Seokjin after the whole break up drama, so more often than not you were fishing for any signs of change in mood from him, waiting to pounce and pay him back in kind. Not that kind of kind though. 

You were always doing that. Accidentally dropping yourself in it, making things awkward. You’d told Seokjin exactly the same right at the beginning and you still weren’t over how red your face had gotten when you’d tried to explain yourself. “Payment in kind, like a-actual kind. Comfort for comfort…” You’d stammered. He’d just wiggled his eyebrows. “What type of comfort?” 

However Seokjin never gave you anything mood wise to go off, so you had to assume he was perfectly fine. Which he probably was. It was just if he wanted to ever lay bare his innermost thoughts and feelings you were there. You had a feeing if you ever told him that part he’d run for the hills. He was just happy moaning about his day through text message, sometimes call, and you happily listened even if you sometimes hummed in agreement without really concentrating... 

Seokjin  I’ll just ignore that  YAY so will you come see Endgame again?

You  AGAIN?! 

Seokjin  PLEASE  I need to go one more time before it leaves theatres 

You  ask sandeul that movie was a whole three hours long  THREE HOURS I’LL NEVER BET BACK 

Seokjin  He doesn’t want to go again  PLS I’LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT 

Couldn’t he just wait until it came out on blu-ray? Then again, the ‘I’ll do anything you want’ sounded like an offer you couldn’t refuse. Maybe you could make him live to regret taking another three hours of your life away. Not that the movie was terrible. It was actually pretty good considering Seokjin had managed to give you the previous lowdowns not an hour before the screening. He didn’t need to know that though. 

You  hmm interesting.. ok but i’m still thinking about what you can do for me 

Seokjin Omg yes  Thank you  I’ll pay again 

You  of course 

Seokjin  😁 I love you 3000 

You scoffed at his lame butter up. You’d already said yes, he didn’t need to sway you anymore, and an Avengers reference wasn’t going to do the trick anyway. It did make you laugh though, despite that line actually ruining you in the movie, and despite what Jin said, it ruined him too. You’d heard an awful lot of sniffing coming from beside you during that scene… 

That’s how you found yourself at the movie theatre again on the weekend, eagerly waiting in line to get snacks because you’d only just finished work an hour ago and were surviving off a sandwich you’d eaten at lunch. 

“Jin! Wassup brother?” 

The booming voice of one of Seokjin’s friends was impossible not to hear as he passed by. You vaguely knew his face. Couldn’t remember the name though. “Oh, hey Bri.” Ah. Brain. He was with his girlfriend—Jiyeon, you knew her name. She was in your fashion history class. She smiled at you and you returned it. 

“What you seeing?” Brian asked, making conversation. 

Seokjin chuckled. “Endgame. Second time. I had to bribe this one to come with me again.” He nudged you playfully, grinning down at you and you laughed along with him. 

“Oh?” Brain tilted his head, looking between you both almost curiously. It made you feel a little nervous and you ended up sidling closer to Seokjin. “How’s it going?” He definitely had a grin on his face when he asked you both that. He didn’t… He didn’t have the wrong idea, did he? 

Seokjin seemed to realise the same thing, shifting on his feet, sounding stunted when he replied. “G-good. Yeah. It’s going good.” 

“We’re seeing Dumbo.” Jiyeon cut in, probably sensing the awkwardness in the air. A true life saver. “I brought tissues just in case,” she giggled. 

“You’ll need them,” you informed her, still feeling relieved she’d changed the subject. “I saw that last week with my friend actually. We cried like babies.” 

“Oh, god,” Brian groaned. 

“Babe! Just because you’re scared you’ll cry too,” Jiyeon teased, elbowing him. 

“Never,” he insisted. You all laughed. “We better bounce.” He added, checking the time on his phone. “Movie’s in five. See you around.” He nodded at Seokjin first, then you. “Have a good one.” 

You swore he winked when he said that but you told yourself you were imagining it, waving after them just as it was your turn in line. After you’d paid for your snacks and were walking to the theatre room you glanced over at Seokjin. “You could’ve asked Bri to come with you. Is he a fan? Really, you know everyone.” You chuckled. 

“Hey, I’m a friendly guy,” he insisted. That was true. You swore Seokjin knew pretty much 70% of people around college, and you were pretty sure everyone liked him. He just had that type of aura. Well, nearly everyone. Yoongi was probably the only person you knew who had his problems, and given the history you didn’t really blame him. 

You were about to agree when Seokjin’s phone buzzed, signalling he had a text. He opened it up without glancing at the preview and you caught your name on the screen. So did he, you guessed because he quickly locked the device and shoved it in his pocket. 

“Who’s that?” You wondered. You already knew. 

“Just Brian. He, uh.” A pause. Like he was trying to think, and then he chuckled. “He said ‘Enjoy the movie, nerd’.” You joined him politely. You mean, Brian could’ve said that. You didn’t see the whole message, but your name was definitely there, and Seokjin was most definitely not telling you why. 

You glanced at him again, maybe he could see the suspicion on your face but he didn’t say anything. Neither did you. You could see how flush his cheeks had gotten, ears too. He was obviously feeling nervous that you’d press him further. You didn’t. You got it. People knew your history with Seokjin, it wasn’t a surprise to you anymore, and therefore, if they saw you together they’d probably think something was going on again. Like now. Brian had assumed something and that was okay. Awkward maybe, but to be expected. You smiled at Seokjin and handed him the popcorn. “He’s not wrong.” 

“Hey! But yeah, he would’ve said no if I asked.” His hand fell to your lower back as he teased you and let you walk through the door first, mouth lowering to your ear, making you squirm a little. It tickled, and your skin seemed to glow where he touched you. Warm and comforting. Warm and nice. “See, you’re my only choice.”

.

.

“So what are your favourite movies?” 

You let your head fall back against the headrest as you thought about Seokjin’s question. It was now over four hours later and you were parked outside your apartment. He’d given you a ride home but you’d been sat here for 30 minutes or so just talking casually. Something you hadn’t done so in-depth before. It felt nice, and you should’ve just invited him in, but in all honesty, for some reason you were worried he’d say no. 

“I don’t know, I’ll watch anything really.” You shrugged after a moment. Titanic seemed too predictable and you knew Seokjin would probably tease you over it. You quickly run through some of your favourites from your teenage years. Wait. “Maybe Lord of the Rings? I loved it when I was younger.” The books were still on your to read list though. You doubted you’d ever get around to it… 

“No way,” he exclaimed. “Me too!” You grinned in surprise. It was always fun realising you had things in common. The small, strange things that you’d never had any clue about. Things like favourite movies, music, or books never came into question when you were just fucking. 

“I haven’t seen them in years. I always wanted to watch the extended versions all in one go. I’d probably flake though.” 

“Same,” you laughed, before suddenly having an idea. “Wait. I think I know what we can do together seeing as you owe me.” 

He tilted his head as he smirked a little. “Watching a movie franchise I love isn’t a punishment.” 

You scoffed. “Watching Endgame twice was hardly terrible, Seokjin. I came again because I wanted to.” That made him happy. Although you thought he already knew that. These days you were just content hanging out with him, whatever the reason. You thought he knew that too. 

You could hear a voice, whispering – irritating really. You were sleeping and it was interrupting you. It seemed to be getting louder, sounded an awful lot like your name, and now you were getting shaken. Woken up. Voice now familiar. Hushing your name over and over again as they tried to rouse you. You made a noise and stretched, opening your eyes. Seokjin’s face hovered over yours, blue with the glow of the television. “It’s late. You should go to bed.” 

You bolted up, he just had time to pull back narrowly missing you head butting him. “What time is it?” You asked, rubbing your eyes. You were still in a daze. You remembered earlier in the night, it was your Lord of the Rings marathon you’d been planning for the last few days, and Seokjin had come over at 5pm to get an early start. You’d made snacks and then you’d ordered pizza after the first movie was done. You remembered finishing the second one and being shocked that you may actually be able to do this. That was until you began the third. You remembered hitting play and then that was it. “Did we finish Return of the King?” 

Seokjin laughed, sitting back against the couch again. “No. I paused it like twenty minutes in. You’ve been asleep for nearly two hours. You groaned, leaning back too and pulling the blanket you’d had draped across you all night up over your shoulders. “Don’t worry, you did good to last that long.” He continued. “It’s nearly 4am.” 

No wonder you were dead to the world, it was practically the next day. Seokjin ran a hand through his hair. It was a little bit rumpled and he moved sluggishly. He sounded a little sluggish too. Voice a little croaky. “Did you fall asleep too?” 

“Yeah. I couldn’t fight it.” He sounded sheepish. Guess he hated the failure too. “I think I can drive home though.” Sitting up, he made motions to stand. “Maybe I’ll have a glass of water first. Y’know, wake up.” 

“No way.” Your insistence came with trapping him with your legs. Not that it could work. He was much stronger than you, but he listened anyway, too tired to fight.  “You can stay over. Is the sofa okay?” 

He heaved an exhausted sigh, grabbing your ankles to move and lie across the couch, his legs now trapping your body instead. Grinning, he reached for a cushion and put it behind his head, folding an arm behind there too. “Good thing it’s comfy.” 

You tried to wriggle your bottom half from under him but it was impossible. He was like lead. “Move your legs,” you whined, but he refused, unable to suppress the giant smirk on his face. You pushed and pulled at his calves. “Seokjin!” Your voice was breaking you were so tired so you think he took pity on you in the end. 

“Okay, okay, I’m moving them,” he chuckled, letting you sit forward so he could stretch them out behind you. 

“You’re so fucking lucky you’re wearing socks.” He laughed louder at that and you removed the blanket from yourself, leaning over to place it over him instead. It was pretty thick and he had his clothes on so he should be warm enough. “There you go. Let me tuck you in tight.” You teased, hovering to push the material under his body, travelling all the way down to his feet. You sat back to admire your handy work. He looked cosy. Cute. A large, human burrito. 

“Thanks, Mom,” he drawled. 

“Thought we said we’d never try that.” The words were out before you could stop them, silently cursing yourself for going there. What was with you both? He’d done something similar not so long ago too. 

But if Seokjin noticed your awkwardness, he didn’t let on, just chuckled softly. “Sorry.” 

You found yourself grinning and shook your head – you were being silly. Standing up, you switched the TV off and made your way slowly to bed in the newfound dark. Not that it was much of a journey. Your studio apartment had its perks. You could also see the silhouette of Seokjin the Human Burrito perfectly from where you lay. 

“Night night, watch the bed bugs don’t bite,” you sang, unable to stop yourself. He just fidgeted and groaned in reply. You rolled your eyes. 

.

.

You must have fallen asleep again pretty quickly because you couldn’t remember anything after that. You had no idea what the time was when you woke up, but light was streaming through the shades and you blindly stretched for your phone, knowing you’d left it somewhere on your nightstand earlier in the night. Ah ha! You found it and quickly unlocked it with your thumb. It was nearly 11am. You hated waking up late but what did you expect when you’d stayed up half the night. You peaked at Seokjin’s figure. Still asleep but now out of his burrito blanket, one leg stretched over the arm of the couch—which didn’t take much, he was too big for it anyway, and the other leg was hanging off, foot on the floor. Socks off. You couldn’t see his face, covered by the blanket, but the image made you smile. Without particularly thinking you snapped a picture, zooming in. There. Now you had the memory forever. 

You laid your head back down and began clicking on those dumb mobile games you were addicted to, before getting bored when you couldn’t beat a level of some infuriating cooking restaurant game you’d only downloaded two days ago. You opened up twitter. You had some notifications from last night after tweeting a picture of your television with the opening credits of Lord of the Rings paused across it. There were a few likes but all the replies were from Seokjin. 

(6:30pm) You tweeted:  [Image added]  LOTR MARATHON TONIGHT 🌋 💍👁🧙🏻‍♂️🧝🏻‍♀️

(6:32pm) Kim_Seokjin replied:  Ur honestly the biggest nerd I know 

(6:32pm) You replied:  funny because i think the EXACT same about you 😜

(2:30am) Kim_Seokjin replied:  And you fell asleep….. 🙄

That was a new one, he’d obviously done it when you’d first fallen asleep. Just to fall asleep not long after, you might add… You were about to point that out ever so kindly when you had a new notification. The name made your heart stop, stomach sinking. 

MinYoongs liked your tweet 

It hadn’t been the first time Yoongi had liked something of yours since the break up. It had been over three weeks now and in that time he’d hit the heart on a few of your tweets. At first it had upset you, but now you you didn’t mind. It was sort of comforting, knowing he kept semi up to date with you. Like a part of him was still here. You’d began liking some of his tweets and even facebook uploads too. You’d seen him around college a couple of times but not immediate enough to have a conversation. Now that you didn’t have class together your paths went back to not crossing like they had in the beginning. You’d smile and nod in his direction and he’d do the same, raising a hand in acknowledgment. It was sad to think that’s what your relationship had become now, but what could you do? A part of you was still holding out on one day being able to be friends. You mean, if you and Seokjin could do it then it was possible, right? 

Only this time he liked your tweet it made you feel weird. Guilty, probably. He’d liked it even after seeing Seokjin’s replies. What did he think? You couldn’t help but wonder. It was pretty obvious Seokjin had been around your apartment watching movies on your sofa where you used to do the same with Yoongi. It was entirely innocent, but Yoongi didn’t know that. Yoongi knew Seokjin as the guy you’d been fucking before you began dating him. Yoongi knew Seokjin as the guy he’d shared you with that one stupid night. Yoongi knew Seokjin and all the history you guys shared, and he had still liked your tweet? What did that mean? 

Was he totally unbothered? Did you want him to be bothered? No, you didn’t. However, you still couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. You wondered if you should message him, try to explain, but really there was nothing to explain. Doing so would just make you look like you had something to hide, and you already still felt the guilt at running to Seokjin’s place the night of the break up. Like you were hiding something from him. By Yoongi liking that tweet it showed you he was fine with whatever was going on, but you couldn’t very well hit him up like ‘Me and Seokjin are just friends. Honest.’ It was weird. He probably knew you were hanging around with one another anyway. You didn’t do it often, but you had met up around college sometimes, studied together in the library. He could’ve seen it, his friends could’ve seen it. It probably came to no surprise to him. 

You were overthinking again. It was stupid and you hated doing it. Seokjin stirred, the sound of his phone falling onto the floor making you both jump. He groaned as he reached for it and you took the opportunity to banish your thoughts. There was no point worrying over things you couldn’t control nor knew the answers to. “You awake?” 

“Mpmph. Morning.” 

His voice was raspy, thick with sleep, but at least he was semi intelligible. “Couch still comfy?” 

“Yeah. I wanna take that back.” He said as he shifted, sitting up. You bit back the urge to laugh. His hair was flattened in the back, face puffy. It had been a while since you’d seen him like this. “It’s like lying on concrete after a while.” 

“Sorry.” A giggle slipped and he stared you down, just making you laugh harder if anything. 

He shook his head in defeat. “Anyways, wanna eat and finish where we left off?” You nodded immediately, discarding your phone on the nightstand quickly. Maybe your mind couldn’t switch off fully but you were thankful for the help. Even if Seokjin didn’t know he was doing just that. 

“God. Will you quit it.” 

“Quit what?” You wondered cluelessly, looking up from your phone to see Lina sentencing death with one glare. 

“Messaging Jin every two seconds.” 

You paused, feeling a little sheepish, like you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t. Which was stupid because 1) You’d been messaging him in plain sight and 2) You were definitely not doing anything wrong. It wasn’t your fault Lina treated Seokjin like he was the antichrist… You locked your phone and shoved it down the side of her couch. “It’s fine. He’s going to work now anyway.” 

That didn’t appease her though. You could feel her eyes still on you, even though you’d tried to make yourself as small as possible as you began watching whatever was on the TV. You finally gave in, glancing over at her expectantly. Whatever she wanted to say she should just go for it. 

“Tell me the truth, are you sleeping with him again?” 

“No! What?!” Okay. You hadn’t been expecting that at all. “Lina, shut up.” You brushed her off. 

“Well, I don’t know. You kept it quiet for months the first time.” 

How could she even think that? Yes, you were hanging out with him quite a lot now, and yes, you had kept your hook ups secret from her for the longest time, but that was all in the past. You kept it hidden because you weren’t particularly proud of it, but as time past it became harder and harder to tell her, even if you no longer cared because you began to like Seokjin as a person and not just as a good fuck. In the end you were no longer embarrassed, just awkward. 

“We’re just friends.” It would never happen again between the two of you. Hook ups weren’t your thing now. It hadn’t ended particularly badly but things had gotten complicated for no good reason. You didn’t want that anymore. You liked what you had with him now and were thankful for him. 

“Sure about that?” She pressed, her tone telling you she didn’t believe you at all. 

“Very sure.” You insisted. She wouldn’t budge. Had that annoying pretentious look on her face that drove you crazy. “Want to see our messages?” You added as a joke but her eyes lit up. “Oh, my god. You do, don’t you?!” She didn’t give you an answer, but had the decency to look sheepish. “Do it!” You exclaimed, grabbing your phone to open up your messages and give it to her. 

She began to scroll hesitantly, reading upwards, as if you weren’t already judging her nosy little ass. You couldn’t help but joke around though. “There’s no dick pics, if that’s what you’re eager to see.” 

She pulled a face. “Ew. My eyes would never recover.” You scoffed. You both knew despite her distaste for Seokjin she had definitely asked you to confirm if his dick was as big as people said when she’d found out about your promiscuous activities. So she couldn’t say shit despite gagging when you’d gone into detail, (it had involved a quick sketch and comparisons), but otherwise you ignored her, letting her read conversations that weren’t even that interesting. Whatever she expected to find, she didn’t of course. “What is this?” She asked you, now scrolling aimlessly. 

“Pretty boring, right?” 

“Why are you having a whole conversation about Lord of the Rings? It lasted two days?!” The judgment in her tone was classic Lina, but more than that she was just honestly bewildered. Until— “I love you 3000?! Why is he telling you he loves you?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Relax. It’s an Avengers reference.” 

“Oh for god’s sake. You’ve gone full nerd. He’s confessing his love with movie references.” 

“He’s not confessing anything,” you sighed. As if. Seokjin falling in love with you, even anyone, just seemed hilarious. Maybe when he was thirty something. You watched her scroll up some more until she got bored and handed it back to you. “Innocent, right?” 

“I guess so…” 

You laughed. How was she still so suspicious? “Now will you drop it?” 

“Fine.” She sighed. “It does look like you two have some sort of friendship going on. Who am I to judge.” 

“Finally. So you admit Seokjin isn’t so bad?” You grinned. Mostly teasing her, but also pretty happy she was finally beginning to understand your friendship with Seokjin. 

She stared at you. “I wouldn’t go that far. But yeah, it doesn’t seem like he’s trying to slip inside somewhere.” 

You wrinkled your nose. “Definitely not.” Like you’d told her before, if that was the case he would’ve just asked outright. You glanced over at her again, realising she was still watching you carefully. As if trying to spot any slip ups. “What?” 

“What about you?” She asked almost cryptically. 

“What about me?” 

“You’ve been awfully happy lately.” 

Her tone was a little accusing, despite the context. “I can’t be happy now?” 

“Of course you can.” She exclaimed. “It’s just you know, considering what went down with Yoongi and all… It wasn’t that long ago.” 

“It’s been long enough,” you shrugged. Seemed like a lifetime ago. Seemed like you and Yoongi never happened… “Lina, I’m done moping. Have been for a while. Me and him tried and it failed. That’s life.” 

“Okay, okay,” she chuckled quietly. “I’m not getting at you. I think it’s good you’re not beating yourself up about it.” She give you a knowing look. It wouldn’t have been the first time you’d blamed yourself. Shockingly, she was right. You hadn’t gone full self loathing mode this time around.  “I’m just worried… You don’t want more with Jin, do you?” 

“Huh?” Her question caught you off guard, as did her gentle voice. The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind, but maybe you could understand why it had crossed hers. Every guy you’d ever seemed to get involved with you’d fallen for. Despite however adamant you were to keep things unattached sometimes. Seokjin was the only guy that hadn’t happened with, yet he proved to be the guy that was the kindest to you. The one who meant the most. 

“You’ve been hanging out a lot lately. At first I thought it was just a distraction for you, but well, you sure you haven’t fallen for him?” 

“I haven’t,” you shook your head. You replied without really thinking. Automatically. “We’re just friends.” Because you were, and it worked that way. It really did. 

“Okay,” she nodded and smiled, letting it go. She did genuinely seem to believe you. “Whatever makes you happy. I just don’t want you getting hurt again, that’s all.” You smiled back, unable to fight the urge to hug her. She received it happily. Lina was your best friend. Had been since high school. She was the one you could be a little more vulnerable around, show your gentler side to, and likewise. She was a lot harder skinned than you though. Yours was mainly for show. She truly took no shit.  

“Just don’t go replacing me with him, got it?” She joked, pulling away. 

“Awh, is that what you’re worrying about, Lina?” You teased, clinging to her as you rubbed your face in her neck. “Don’t worry, there’s only one of you. You’re not going anywhere.” 

“Get off,” she giggled. “Of course there’s only one of me.” 

“I am happy that you like Seokjin now though.” You couldn’t help but slip in, the teasing now over. 

She scoffed, blowing air. “Wouldn’t go that far.” You just shrugged, about to suggest you order some food but she squealed, suddenly remembering something. “Oh my god, wait! I was supposed to tell you! Summer is getting into astrology and she told me about this really cool app!” She pulled out your phone and you laughed at her dramatic excitement.  “Download it too and let’s see how compatible we are! I need to know if we’re going to be best friends for ever.” 

…And she called you the nerd? 

“I wanna start working out.” 

You paused from browsing a rack of clothes to glance at Seokjin, waiting for his response. You’d made up your mind to go to the mall today after class and for some reason, after telling him, “Do you want to come to?” rolled from your tongue. He agreed almost instantly, so here you were, Seokjin following by your side as you aimlessly (window) shopped. 

He had an eyebrow cocked. “You do?” 

“Mmhm,” you nodded, pulling a shirt from a pole to hold it up to your body. You met his eyes in the mirror. “I think I want abs.” 

He scoffed instantly. “Abs?! You’ll give up before that.” 

“I won’t,” you whined, pushing him with your elbow as you slotted the shirt back with the others. He grabbed ahold of your arm naturally, playfully pushing you back. “It can’t be that hard anyway?” 

Maybe abs were a little too ambitious. You just felt the need to start working out, to get healthy, change your diet. You often got these spur of the moment plans but if you were being real, you never stuck to them. There was the time you and Lina decided to go jogging three times a week before classes. That lasted one week. There was also that time you tried to follow a pilates youtube video… You lasted ten minutes. The video was forty. This time was a little bit different though. You had Seokjin. He worked out every day (at least he used to), and he worked in the goddamn campus gym. You needed a motivator and he was the perfect candidate. At least he he had been.. You were taking his negativity quite personally. 

He agreed. Slightly. “It probably won’t for you, no, but I don’t think you have the willpower though.” 

You scowled at his smirk. He just looked amused. “Excuse you. You’re just afraid mine will look better than yours.” 

“I don’t have them anymore,” he chuckled. 

“Really?” You did not believe him whatsoever. “Liar. Show me.” Your hands were bunching up his t-shirt before you really had time to realise what you were doing, your fingers slipping under, brushing against his stomach. Still hard and just as warm as you remembered. Something jumped inside of you. It was gone before you had time to place it. 

He hissed your name with a baffled laugh, grabbing your hand. “We’re in public.” 

This time the sensation in your gut stayed longer when it appeared. You had enough time to understand it but you pushed it away, taking your hand back with a roll of eyes. You ignored how hot your face felt and acted as usual, beginning to toddle off. “Whatever. I’m joining the college gym. I’ll find someone else to help me if you don’t.” 

“Ah, I see,” he called after you, speeding up to catch you up. You could hear the slight tease in his voice, which wasn’t doing anything for your jostled hormones. Damn time of the month. That’s what you’d blame it on. “This is just a ploy to see me more. Hanging out at my place of work now? I think I’ll just show up at yours too. I have a sudden interest in fashion.”

He nudged you with his shoulder and you scoffed. “With your dress sense? Try again.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the look of indignation on his face.  

He sighed in defeat. “Fine. If I help you get fit, you can help me dress better.” 

You stopped, a handbag catching your eye, but also, bless him. “Seokjin, you dress fine enough,” you said as you turned to him. White t-shirt, a black cardigan, jeans that had holes in at the knees, black converse. It was all very casual prep. Effortless, because you knew for a fact Seokjin just picked whatever out of his closet and slipped it on in the mornings. Very boy next door. You wouldn’t really have it any other way. 

That didn’t seem to satisfy him though, going by the pout he gave you. “You just laughed at me.” 

You needed to physically clench your fists to stop you from reaching up and attempting to pinch those lips of his. Madness. “I really like your style. It suits you.” 

“You do?” 

He looked happy with that, lips now quirking up a little at the edges. You nodded sincerely. “Yep. It’s cosy. Although, you could probably do with wearing tighter fitting shirts.” He cocked an eyebrow at your suggestion. “You know, to show of this…” Those pesky hands of yours found themselves gliding across his shoulders. You caught Seokjin’s eyes and smiled quickly, awkwardly no doubt and pulled away, grabbing the handbag off the rack to uselessly look at. “Girls will like that a lot. Not that you need help.” You muttered the last part, unsure if he heard you. 

He did, chuckling quietly. “I’m not interested.” 

You paused, trying to decipher his words. He wasn’t interested in the shirts or the girls? It had to be the former, Kim Seokjin was always interested in girls. Although, saying that, you hadn’t heard him talk about any since you’d began hanging out together. Not that he had to. That would probably be weird. No, scrap that. It would definitely be weird. You did not want to hear about his hook ups and likewise for him most probably. Not that there were any hook ups. You were taking a much-needed break. Seokjin was the only man you needed in your life, which sounded incredibly cheesy now that you’d thought it. 

“I’ll still help you though,” he continued, following you as you began strolling again, heading for the exit. 

“Oh my god, yay! Thank you!” You gleed, unable to stop yourself from latching onto his arms and squeezing him. God. What was with you and physical contact today? Maybe you’d always done it, you were just paying extra attention today? Truthfully, ever since Lina had given you the third degree the other night you kept questioning every small thing you did towards Seokjin. Silly because there was nothing to second guess. He definitely didn’t do the same. 

You kept your distance after that, looking around the mall for a sports store. “I need to find something to wear,” was your excuse. “Surely you have a pair of leggings and a t-shirt at home,” was his response. Which was the dumbest thing he could say to you seeing as you were the world’s biggest shopper. 

“Let’s get doughnuts first,” he said after a few minutes of searching, catching you by surprise when he grabbed ahold of your elbow. He looked like he realised what he did because he pulled back quickly. Okay so maybe it wasn’t just you… You happily followed him anyway, the smell making your belly rumble. 

“You have to start eating healthy if you want abs. This is your last chance to get that treat.” He teased, laughing a little too sadistically when he saw you frown at the realisation…

.

.

 “That wasn’t too bad.” You commented, making your way to the exit of the gym with Seokjin close behind you. You’d waited an extra twenty minutes for him to finish his shift so he could give you a ride home and now if you were being honest, you couldn’t wait to get in and run a bath. Seokjin didn’t need to know that though. 

He said your name disapprovingly behind you, tugging off his lanyard to shove in his hoody pocket. You must say, Seokjin’s gym attire was something else. You hadn’t seen him in a pair of shorts for months and his thighs had definitely gotten bigger. Not that you were staring… 

“What?” You puzzled, confused by his tone.  

“You went on the running machine for half and hour and then did some squats.” 

Okay, the patronising dick. “Some?! That was like a hundred!” He was the one who suggested starting off easy, and FYI, squats kinda burned if you weren’t used to them. Seokjin scoffed in reply, adding a “that wasn’t a hundred,” and you went to glare at him as you pushed the glass door open but some guy did so for you, already pulling it from the other side to enter. “Ladies first,” he grinned at you, letting you slide past him. 

“Thank you,” you smiled back, noticing Seokjin almost push his way past after you. “At least there are nice people here,” you shot. 

He pulled a face instantly. “You serious? They’re nice because they want to fuck you.” Your affronted expression said it all, and because you didn’t believe him, you whipped your head around, immediately catching the guy who’d held the door open for you looking back too. He smirked when he noticed he had your attention. You shot your head forward quickly, eyes wide. 

“See.” Seokjin exclaimed. “I had to watch pretty much every guy check you out.” He sounded almost pissed. Nah. It was probably just your imagination. Bet you anything he just found it lame. 

“Get lost.” 

“No, really.” He insisted. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but your…” He hesitated and you looked up, curious but also regretting instantly when you did. “Your ass looks really good in those pants. I think you can skip the squats next time.” 

You really had to be looking him in the eyes when he said that. You felt your face heat up immediately. Much more of a reaction than when that guy had smirked at you. “You were looking too?!” You exclaimed. 

“Hey,” he whined. “It’s not my fault! I’m a guy, and in my defence, we have history.” A little shrug. “Things pop into my mind. Can’t control it.” 

“Seokjin,” you gasped. What did that even mean? You couldn’t believe the words were coming out of his mouth. 

“What? I’m just being honest.” He sounded so casual you just kept silent. Speechless by his gall. “Come on, get in. You’ll be aching soon,” he added, stopping by his car and opening the passenger’s side up for you. 

You rode in complete silence. You didn’t want it to be awkward but it was. Not because he’d made you feel uncomfortable, but just because you couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said. Why were you repeating his words over and over again inside your head? Why were you pretty sure your face was now as red as a tomato? It definitely wasn’t the working out… 

“Same time tomorrow?” He asked when he pulled up outside your door and stopped the engine. He sounded fine, natural and breezy. Hopefully he hadn’t caught onto your awkwardness but quite possibly he was just good at hiding it. 

You forced a smile. If he could be unaffected, so could you.  “I’ll be there fighting fit.” 

He smiled dubiously. “I won’t hold my breath.” 

“Hey,” you shot quietly, feeling better now despite his doubt in your ability.

“I start at 4, finish at 8.” 

You nodded, stepping out onto the sidewalk and waved him goodbye. “Bye, Seokjin.” He sounded soft when he copied, your name almost hushing from his lips. You felt a tug in your chest. You needed water. You were dehydrated. 

And that was the story of how Seokjin became your very own personal trainer. Or so he liked to call it. He didn’t particularly help whatsoever. Just ordered you about and then laughed at you when you struggled. “I could get you fired for this,” you’d shot this evening, sweat pouring down your temples as you’d basically crawled off the rowing machine. 

“And I could get you banned for flirting with the staff,” had been his comeback. “Maybe arrested for stalking too.” 

Despite your initial affronted expression, you couldn’t help but laugh. Something had changed recently between the two of you. Maybe you were just getting a lot more comfortable given all the time you spent together. Maybe it was something else. You didn’t know and you didn’t really want to dwell too much on it. Seokjin was a flirt after all, and you were okay with that. You didn’t mind joking around with him. 

If you were being honest, you didn’t mind anything when it came to him. Which was why you were willing to practically cripple yourself in order to carry on going to the gym. Sometimes when Seokjin wasn’t getting paid to step foot into the gym, he went with you anyway and you got to sneak a peek as he worked out too. You were only human after all, and Seokjin still had a body that made your mind susceptible to dirty thoughts. You now understood what he meant about being unable to stop things popping into his head. But it was fine. Natural and expected to an extent. Seokjin was your friend, and just your friend, like you’d already insisted to Lina. 

.

.

“This is the worst.” 

You heard Seokjin snicker a bit behind you, having fallen back a few steps while he checked his cellphone. Whose bright idea was it to walk to and from the gym, and today of all days? “You’re walking like you’ve shit yourself.” 

You snapped your neck around. If looks could kill. “Shut up.” You’d storm off but it hurt too much so all you could do was attempt to speed hobble. Seokjin soon caught up up. 

“I told you not to row a kilometre.” Condescending as usual. “It was your first time. That shit burns if you’re not used to it.” 

“Already?” You whimpered. Usually it took until the next day, a few hours at least, until the burn was apparent. You were a goddamn fool. Who knew pulling back and forth repeatedly could fuck you up so bad. “What am I going to be like tomorrow?” 

You wanted at least some sympathy but you didn’t get it. “Worse.” The most casual of shrugs. “You’ve used muscles you don’t usually work.” 

“I’ve used muscles I didn’t know I had!” 

He laughed at that. Genuinely amused. “You’re a weakling. You need to gain some strength and stamina. It doesn’t come automatically. If you want those abs you need to be working out every day. Maybe go running in the morning, cycling… ” You groaned as he spoke. You hadn’t ridden a bike in years. Why was there so much work to look good? Seokjin made it look effortless, the dick. 

He laughed again. This time lower but closer to you, his breath puffing against the back of your neck as he took you by surprise and gripped your waist with his hands. “C’mon, let me help you. Guide you.” Patronising. You wanted to tell him that but your mouth wasn’t working. You walked as he did, letting him escort you down the remaining length of the sidewalk with a gentle push. 

“Four more steps forward. Turn left to be met with your apartment door. Up the two steps.” Lifting your legs awkwardly, he brushed into you, crotch against your ass. You were going to hell. Your mind went to places embarrassingly quickly. 

“Keys.” You were suddenly cold when he removed his hands from you to search through your bag. Just for your hand to be met with the familiar warmth as he cupped it. It took you a moment to realise he’d pressed the key into your palm. He sighed. Thankfully mistaking your airhead for post-workout soreness. “I’ll do it then.” He guided your hand to the door. “Forward. Insert into hole.” 

“Oh my god.” You couldn’t help but mutter that one. At least there was a part of your brain still working… The incredibly perverted part, but a part nonetheless. 

“Do you have to make everything so dirty?” He looked down at you, dramatic judgement in his tone. You felt him twist the key in your hand, opening the door. He looked you dead in the eyes as he spoke again. “Turn and open wide. Well done!” 

That was definitely on purpose. You could tell by the smirk that couldn’t help but sneak its way on his face. You’d chew his ear off but he was immediately getting behind you again, wrapping his arms around your middle and before you knew it he was lifting you up, ignoring your squealing as you clutched onto his hands. “Now to get your poor frail body through the threshold.” There was an obvious fake strain to his voice as he did so and it was over in seconds, putting you down as soon as he’d raised you a few inches off the ground.

You rounded on him immediately. “I regret inviting you over if I knew you were going to be such a jackass.” 

He raised his hands up as a peace offering. “This is all just very amusing to me.” 

You couldn’t be bothered to argue, making your way to the couch to collapse onto (slowly, if possible), and let your body just buzz. You couldn’t tell if it was the muscles you didn’t know you had contracting, or if it was the lingered feeling of Seokjin’s hands on your body… That sounded pathetic. “I’m never moving,” you declared loudly, speaking truth but also trying to distract yourself. 

Seokjin watched you and chuckled, shaking his head slowly. “I’ll get you something to drink.”  

“Alcohol!” You shouted (unnecessarily, it was a one room apartment after all…) as he walked a little way forward to your kitchenette.  “And chips. Fuck the healthy diet. I need sustenance.” 

You switched on the television as Seokjin pottered away, opening cupboards as he searched for something suitable. It was cute how he knew where your drinking glasses were kept and where you kept your snacks. Maybe he never forgot from before… 

“There you go,” he said, dropping a bag of chips into your lap from above. You opened them immediately, feasting like you hadn’t eaten all day. “Will this do? It’s all you had.” You  looked up at him, seeing him holding a green bottle. When he spoke again he sounded uncertain. “Sour apple?” 

You wrinkled your nose. “It’s nasty stuff. Give it to me!” 

He laughed at your outstretched arm and sat next to you, reaching for the drinking glass under his arm so he could pour you some. He passed it to you and you took a tentative sip, the familiar sickly and artificial taste making you wince. But you needed something to ease those poor muscles of yours, and because you weren’t a major drinker, this was all your stupid self had hiding away in your cupboards. 

You watched Seokjin sniff inside the bottle just as cautious but for some reason he took a giant swig, making a loud noise of objection as soon as the liquid slipped down his throat. “Ew. What the fuck is that?! It’s vile.” 

“Right? It’s gross,” you agreed, chuckling as he stuck out his tongue, and it was already toxic waste green. “It made me throw up like crazy a few months back.” Funny, you still remembered (bits of) that night when Yoongi had looked after you, but the memories no longer made you feel sad, dejected. That was indeed a good thing. You took your own sniff, now dubious. “It’s not too old, right?” 

“Nah, should be fine,” he shrugged, taking another sip. He winced all the way through it. “I think you’re supposed to make cocktails with it, or at least shots.” 

You eyed your generously poured glass. “Go big or go home, huh?” 

“You are home,” he commented, thinking he was clever. You went to kick him, forgetting your legs were fucked up and yelled out. Seokjin chuckled, grabbing your ankles one by one so he could lift your legs over his lap. “I guess this is my fault as your personal trainer and all,” he teased, beginning to rub one of your calves with his free hand. You didn’t have time to freak out about the physical contact this time around, because in all honesty, the sensation felt amazing for your poor, hurt muscles.  

He continued for a little while until he got bored (called it), but you kept your legs there. After all, he hadn’t pushed them away, and like you said, it was helping your muscles… You don’t know why them being on his lap specifically helped, it was all probably psychological, but whatever, for once you weren’t going to overthink things. 

Soon enough sporadic sips of the toxic waste became too much and you pulled a face, groaning loudly. “I’m beginning to feel a little sick.” 

“Yeah, let’s stop,” he agreed, all while taking one last glug that made you giggle when he stuck his tongue out in disgust. He smiled at you, seemingly amused by something. You didn’t know what. Himself? Seemed about right. You were going to ask when he huffed your legs from him and took your glass from your hand as he stood up. “Not worth it. The stuff feels like it’s swimming in my veins.” You watched him walk towards your sink, looking over his shoulder to shoot you a question as he hovered the bottle over the basin. “May I?” You nodded, glad to see the back of the green liquid as it poured down the drain.  

“Noodles?” He suggested shortly after. 

“Please.” Maybe it would help get rid of the awful taste inside your mouth. You were dumb for even considering the drink once again. Thankfully, Seokjin also poured you a glass of water, which you downed in one go, sicky feeling leaving you as you munched on the slightly hard ramen. 

Somewhere along the line, Seokjin took the remote from between your bodies and started browsing through Netflix. You complained about how even though there was so much choice you could never find anything new to watch. You’d watched everything good. He listened to you politely, a slight smile on his face because by now you were tired, you could tell, your words seeping into one another, or maybe it was that evil drink seeping into your brain. Never again. 

In the end you suggested something he’d surely protest to. Angsty teenage vampires didn’t seem his thing, but shockingly he agreed to the first episode of The Vampire Diaries. You didn’t even have to try and persuade him with a little backstory, about how it used to be your favourite show back in high school. You warned him within the first two seconds that if he wasn’t Team Damon, he could leave your apartment right this instant and never come back. Thankfully he agreed that Damon was far hotter than Stefan, so it all worked out perfectly. You knew you could always count on Seokjin. 

You didn’t make it through to the end. Your noodles sat on your coffee table half eaten, your head having fallen onto Seokjin’s shoulder, eyes half closed. Could very well be near dribbling knowing your luck. Not that he seemed to care. He let you snooze on him, his arm crushed into your side, his warmth making you all that cosier. Honestly, a nice blanket draped over the two of you could do the trick right now. You could really fall asleep, and fall asleep good. However, just as that was happening it was all over, Seokjin shaking you gently, telling you the episode had finished. 

“What time is it?” You asked, voice thick, eyes heavy. 

He checked his phone, chuckling. “11pm.” 

You groaned, lifting your head and rubbed your eyes. “God, I’m old.” 

He laughed harder. “I can’t believe the gym fucked you up already. I think you should get to bed.” 

“Can’t move remember.” Your thighs and calves felt even more stiff now. Call you dramatic, but the thought of moving seemed like the worst thing in the world. Why couldn’t you have just slept on Seokjin’s shoulder all night? He was such a spoil sport. You were going to tell him that before he jumped to his feet, standing in front of you and leaving you confused. 

“I’ll just have to carry you then.” He said matter-of-factly, and you didn’t have another second to process his words before he was hooking one arm under your knees, one around your back and lifting you effortlessly. 

“Oh my god,” you squealed, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck and clutching on for dear life. 

He strained a groan as he straightened his back, taking a few staggered steps backwards, catching his balance, before he turned and began in the direction of your bed. “You’re so lucky the journey isn’t far.” 

The noise that left you could only be described as indignant as you slapped between his shoulder blades. How dare he be so dramatic, but trust karma to always pull through. He lost his footing and tripped as he climbed the platform that held your bed. He managed to drop you down unscathed albeit for the sudden shock of your back bouncing against mattress, but he also went with you, palms pressing into the sheets, caging your body with his. All he needed was to swing your legs up, cage them in too. As it would, they hung limply off the bed, just as dazed as you. 

The thought entered your mind immediately and wouldn’t leave. You used to love being under him. Even when you looked up at him, assuming he’d gain his bearings and move away. He didn’t. You mean, he eased up a little, hands no longer either side of your head, but somehow they found their way to your hips, urging you too lift your legs onto the bed. You did so silently, not taking your eyes from him. It was strange. One of you should have said something by now. Seokjin should have joked around, apologised for being clumsy. You should have moaned at him, whined he could have killed you. But there was none of that. 

Instead he gave you a small smile, looking down at you. “Your breath stinks of apple and your tongue is so green.” 

You weren’t expecting that. It caught you off guard and just like that, the moment was over. Ruined maybe, but you wouldn’t let yourself think like that. You didn’t want to think about how Seokjin’s voice sounded all soft and gentle. Like something you’d never heard before, not even when he used to be between your legs similar to this, but naked and sweaty. Sure, you’d heard his voice needy and low many a time, but never like this. This was something else. He was cautious but couldn’t help himself. He was nervous but wanted to hide it. 

You listened. “Yours does too.” You whined, your voice now sounding alien as you twisted your head, trying to get away from the sour apple but in the process getting away from him. Nothing personal, you were just afraid you were going crazy. 

Still caged under him, his hands still around your hips, you were still hyperaware of his touch and the air was almost a little suffocating, even if you were just imagining it. Your idea proved futile anyway, because you could feel his breath against your neck now, and that was way, way worse. Until maybe he suddenly realised how questionable this position looked, or maybe it really was no big deal, and he moved away naturally, the warmth of his palms leaving your body as he slipped to the side of you, lifting his feet from the floor to slide his legs under him to sit down. 

You stretched your legs out, now welcoming the ache because it distracted you. You also welcomed the cool air because your skin felt hot and itchy. You tried to read Seokjin’s face for anything that told you he was feeling the same way. His cheeks were a little flushed and just peeking out from under the collar of his t-shirt was an equally red patch. For the first time in a long time, probably since you’d embarked on this serious friendship mission, you felt a little awkward in his presence, and that made you feel guilty. You were the problem. Nothing had happened just now, it was all in your head, and he could probably feel how awkward you were being. You clenched your jaw, making a decision right then and there. Everything was normal. 

“Yeah, think abs aren’t for me,” you said as casually as you could muster lying about half a metre down your bed as Seokjin sat next to you. “I much prefer my rolls.” 

It seemed to work. He looked semi relieved you were making conversation and laughed. “You don’t have rolls, shut the fuck up.” 

“I do!” You insisted, wide eyed.  “Look!” You reached a hand under your shirt to squeeze the skin, flashing him your stomach, which now, in hindsight, seemed like a bad idea. 

Although you were probably looking into it too much because he gave it one fleeting glance and rolled his eyes. “You really don’t.” There, that told you. You pulled a face as you smoothed your t-shirt back down. 

“I can’t believe you’re quitting after not even two weeks. At least stick it out for the month you paid for.” 

You groaned, knowing he was right but not wanting to listen. You were done with the gym. All it did was hurt and mess with your mind. If you hadn’t seen Seokjin working out these past few days you wouldn’t be in this predicament right now. Another one of your bright ideas that turned out to be dumb. Really dumb. “I’m tired.” 

He chuckled under his breath. “I’ll go. Leave you to sleep.” 

He’d misunderstood. You weren’t tired in that sense. You mean, you had been not ten minutes ago, but now you were still high on the rush of that internal panic. No, you were tired of thinking. Everything had been fine a couple of weeks ago. You were over your break up with Yoongi, finally at peace with everything that had gone on. Life was good, college, work, friends, and then Lina had to open her big mouth and now you were back to almost square one. Your brain wouldn’t switch off. You couldn’t really tell Seokjin that though. Sorry, no, I meant tired of overthinking every little second that me and you share. I’m tired of maybe, potentially questioning this friendship for no good reason. Sorry to make it awkward… It didn’t sound good, did it? 

“You don’t have to go. Stay.” Fuck. The words were out before you could stop them. Like your mind was working without you. “It’s late now. I don’t want you to walk home in the dark.” 

He shot you a look that told you he thought you’d lost it. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. Plus, your couch is so uncomfy. I can’t do it a second time.” 

“You can sleep here.” That damn mouth of yours. “In my bed.” You were making it worse each time you opened it. Why were you inviting him into your bed?! 

Sure, it could be taken as innocent, probably would any other day, but the look in his eyes as he stared at you, definitely trying to read your expression, find something in your tone, told you he was slowly picking up on something here. Your awkwardness again. 

“Top to tail?” He finally asked, and you nodded quickly. Probably too quickly. 

“If you want.” 

He narrowed his eyes. You got nervous. “You’re a little drunk. I can tell.” 

“Am not.” You shook your head. Maybe the damn drink had made you sleepy earlier, but you definitely weren’t drunk. You wish. Although… this could potentially be a blessing in disguise. Could explain your weird behaviour. You’d be the girl who got drunk off a handful of sips of alcohol if it meant having a free pass. 

“Are to,” he insisted, but something told you he was also pretending. It made it easier to say no to you. “I can’t accept your offer. You might live to regret waking up to my feet in your face.” 

“I don’t think I will.” You didn’t regret a thing where he was concerned. That thought seemed to glow in the forefront of your mind suddenly. 

“Better to be on the safe side.” 

You scoffed, but deep down you couldn’t help but feel a little dejected. Which was stupid because did you really want Seokjin to sleep in your bed? What would happen if he did? Did you want something to happen? You fleeted back to how nice it had been to fall asleep on his shoulder earlier, fleeted back to his lingering touch on your body when he’d tripped… That intimacy, if you could call it that, that familiarity was still itching at your skin, and you could quite honestly say right now, that if Seokjin ended up sharing your bed tonight, you didn’t know what would happen. 

Not that he wanted to sleep next to you. That much was obvious. He was looking for a way to decline and the idea of you being drunk was a little farfetched but successful. Seokjin didn’t want you like that anymore, and that was okay. You were friends and you were happy with that. You liked it and you didn’t want to ruin things, because sometimes you had a tendency to ruin everything. Or at least it seemed like you did… 

You watched him shuffle off your bed, you lifting your legs up so his feet could hit the floor. “I’ll text you when I get home. Just to let you know.” He teased, lips attempting to quash his amused smile. 

“Seokjin, wait,” you called, sitting up too to grab him by the wrist as he moved to stand up. He turned back, waiting – and you swear this – almost hopefully. The moment was back, if just for a millisecond. He was waiting for you to say something, but not out of manners, out of hope. He was hoping you’d say something. Just what? 

Did he want you to persuade him to stay, to beg him? If you knew he wanted that, you’d give it to him. You always could persuade him well… And if he wanted to spend the night, how was up to him. You wouldn’t think of the consequences, of the the damage it could cause between you two. You’d just act in the moment, because if truth be told, your skin was still hot, still itchy, tingling now, with the sudden wonder, and there was an urge in your gut you hadn’t felt for a long time…

However, you didn’t say anything, or do anything. You couldn’t. Not when you were so unsure about his intentions, your intentions. You swallowed and smiled, letting go of his wrist to point towards your wicker chair. “Can you pass me my pyjamas?” 

And that was that. The moment was over again. “Sure.” Seokjin smirked back, the smallest of laughs leaving him as he rose and grabbed them, handing them too you quickly. If he was disappointed, he hid it well. 

Not long after, he was gone, the click of the apartment door ringing in your ears. The silence didn’t really bring you clarity. 

.

.

“Don’t be moody.” You told Seokjin, fighting back your laughter. You could still make out his pout in the darkness of your apartment. “Ikea furniture gets to the best of us. No need to sulk.” 

“I’m not being moody,” he insisted but the tension in his voice told you otherwise. “The bed is fucking stupid!” You finally let yourself giggle, unable to stop as you sat up in your makeshift bed—a mattress on the floor because the frame laid discarded against the wall, screws and bolts strewn across the floor. 

You could see Seokjin’s look of disbelief even in the dim glow of the street lamps outside. He shut you up with his mouth. You weren’t expecting that, but let it happen anyway. Letting him push you onto your back again and clamber over your body. You continued to laugh between each glide of his mouth though, hands running down his back. 

He pulled away, whining lowly. “Why are you still laughing?” 

“It’s just funny.” You upturned your shoulders. “You trying to act all cool and collected when you’re mad as hell.” You’d never seen Seokjin angry or frustrated before so this was all very brand new and amusing to you. 

He glared at you. “I’ll give you funny.” Your hips rolled obediently when you felt his hand slip inside your underwear, reattaching his mouth to yours. “—and mad,” he grunted into your mouth. 

“Okay,” you replied easily, clutching onto him as his finger rubbed at your entrance before pushing carefully inside. After all, that’s what he’d been here for. He’d come over to build your bed and “christen” it as he’d so lovely put it. You’d only just moved in to your own place and you were beyond ecstatic to have your own space, and so was Jin, because, and this was in his own words, “Great, a new place to fuck.” 

You guessed the details didn’t matter, he was still christening your new bed. The mattress was the most important part. Who cared if Seokjin couldn’t follow a simple set of instructions. You weren’t judging him…honest… Besides, the sex like this was amazing. He had a lot of pent up frustration to get rid of and you gladly took it. 

“We’re not making a sound,” he groaned, your legs wrapped around his waist as he kneeled and fucked into you hard and fast. Your shorts were hanging off one ankle, his t-shirt stretched at the neck where you’d tugged it out of shape. “Who knew n-no bedframe was the answer to quiet sex.” You moaned loudly in response, unable to give him anything else.

“Still making you moan though,” he almost menaced, reaching for your ankles to push your legs forward, dick slipping deeper, about to penetrate your gut and kill you if he wasn’t careful. The noises that left you sounded crazed. He cocked an eyebrow, still as smug as ever despite the slack jaw and heavy breathing. “What will your neighbours think?” 

“I’m going to kill you,” you attempted to seethe, nearly biting down on your bottom lip. As if you wanted to be known to your new neighbours as the girl who had sex loudly. 

He just laughed, hands on your hips now as he began to jerk you. “Flip over,” he grunted, slipping out of you as he successfully rolled you onto your front. You spread your legs, desperate to have his dick inside you immediately, and when he pushed inside you moaned low, muffling it as best you could with your pillow.

He soon picked up his pace once more, merciless now, and you tried so fucking hard not to cry out, your moans lodging in your throat, body tense as you tried to control every nerve in your body. It was all slick noises and the thud of his hips hitting your ass and finally his frustration began to leave his body. “Stupid—fucking—ikea—bed,” he growled, thrusting harder into you after every word. 

God. That was it. “S-seokjin,” you almost begged. He was just so deep and hard. You could feel him everywhere, just getting wetter with each grunt that pushed its way from your throat. “You’re gonna make me cum–d-don’t stop.” 

“Am I making you feel good?” He demanded, fingers digging into your ass with the effort of keeping up. He was terribly out of breath now, his only motivation was to make you cum. He couldn’t slow down, not when you were so close. 

“So good,” you said through held breath. You were pushed so flat to the mattress your clit was getting its fair share too, and you closed your eyes tight, seeing stars as you let yourself jump over the edge. “So, so, so good.” 

You came hard. Like so hard your ass twitched. He liked that. His sweaty hands digging into the flesh as he caressed you, thrusts ceasing because he couldn’t take the nonstop pulsing around his cock. He pulled out shortly after, one hand jerking himself off while the other slapped down on your flesh. “Wanna cum on that perfect little ass of yours.” 

You moaned, raising yourself up a little to tease him and it wasn’t long before you felt the warm droplets of his cum dirty your flesh. “Fuck,” he grunted, needing a moment to come to before you heard him shuffle about. And then a whine. “You don’t have anything to clean up with.” 

Well, no. You wouldn’t. This was your first night here. If you didn’t have a bed, you didn’t have tissues on a nightstand. “Not the instruction manual,” you warned when you heard the familiar sounds of paper rustling. “My dad has to come over tomorrow and fix your mess.” 

“Oi.” He whined, but listened, throwing the manual back on the floor. You rolled your eyes when you felt him rub his cum into your skin with the head of his dick. He was just making more mess now, that wasn’t going to clean you up. He realised soon enough and stood up quickly. “I’ll be right back.” 

You let your body relax as he went to the bathroom after some toilet paper, comfy and still vibrating a little from the bliss of your orgasm. Your bare ass was getting a little cold though. Thankfully Seokjin wasn’t too long and he wiped up the mess he’d made pretty quickly. When you finally rolled over to see him walking back from your trash can, you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him naked from the waist down. 

“Why are you laughing at me now?” He pouted, sounding genuinely paranoid. That bed frame had really fucked with his head. 

“Sorry,” you apologised, trying to compose yourself. “You’re just…naked. It looks funny.” 

He frowned, still suspicious. “You’ve seen me naked hundreds of times.” Nevertheless, he still stretched his t-shirt down over his crotch, hiding his modesty as he crawled back to you. 

“Yeah, but it was just…SWINGING there,” you giggled, starting up again. 

“Well, yeah, that’s what dicks do.” He almost grumbled. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he was embarrassed. You went to whisper another sorry but then he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing your back (maybe a bit too) tightly to his chest. You stretched your arm behind him to pinch his butt. “Stop!” He warned, but you could feel his grin against your neck as he kissed you. 

You closed your eyes, smiling to yourself. You were so cosy and warm now, happy and sated. You could really fall asleep like this. Seokjin’s arms around you, his breath against your skin. The feeling in our chest was hard to explain. At the tip of your tongue, yet never coming. Annoyingly he moved away to fall onto his back as soon as you were trying to place the emotion and you snapped your eyes open having lost it all together. You grabbed your phone on the floor next to you to check the time. It was 1am. Seokjin really had been here trying to make the bed for nearly 3 hours before he’d given up. You should have just asked your father over in the first place… But you couldn’t tell Jin that, couldn’t bear to hurt his feelings. Bless. 

“We should make the most of the next few hours…” You suggested casually. His groan told you he didn’t agree. He was tried and half asleep. Too tired to start his usual spiel about his dick falling off because you made him fuck you too often. “I knew a guy who ended up in hospital once because he fucked his girlfriend 14 times in a weekend.” Seemed unbelievable. Both ending up in hospital, and having sex over a dozen times in a 48 hour period, but whatever. Seokjin was talking bullshit like usual, because even though he moaned and groaned, he was always the first to initiate the fucking. Example: tonight. You just liked to plant the seed. Example: right now… 

“It was fun.” You whined. “I think I should just say fuck it to the bed and sleep on this groan proof mattress.” 

“Hm. I don’t know. The springs will give out soon enough, and how would you explain it to your parents?” He replied. That was true. Your parents didn’t even know Seokjin existed. Which meant that you had to take the fall for this tomfoolery tonight. Pretend you spent hours trying to screw some planks of wood together… You loved looking like an idiot. But you digressed… 

“But I can still smash up the bed frame for you?” He added, sounding hopeful. Finally admitting his anger. “Fucking piece of shit.” 

.

.

Sleep didn’t give you clarity either. You woke up with a hazy mind, unsure if you were dreaming the memory or just playing it out in your head again as you slowly came to. Half awake, half dreaming. It was almost fitting that you remembered back to that night, like your subconscious was messing with you. If you let your mind wonder more, you were certain it was your favourite memory with Seokjin. You didn’t know why. It was really nothing special. By then you’d had sex too many times to count. They should’ve ended up blurring into one, but there were a handful that stood out. This one more than the rest. Something about the way he’d wanted to help you, even if it was a total fail. You remembered thinking somewhere in the back of your mind, while he was fucking you into your poor mattress, It’s not just sex to him. Ironic, but true. That night should’ve shown you how kind Seokjin could be. Or how kind he was. He didn’t choose as and when to be considerate, the opportunity had just never really presented itself before. You’d never needed a bed building before… 

Ugh. You were a mess. You’d truly thought a good nights sleep would do you good, but no, your mind was still restless and your body ached even more from the night before. You shouldn’t be thinking of the past. Not when things were so good right now, so different. Your friendship with Seokjin worked, it made you happy, but on the outside looking in, was it considered normal? You didn’t think so. Don’t get you wrong, many girls had male friends. You had a couple you spoke to regularly and sometimes hung out with, but that was always in groups. You didn’t have one who you messaged every single day and hung out with alone. You didn’t have one like that until you met Seokjin. Before that, the guy you’d just described had been Yoongi. Perhaps that description better defined a relationship? Texting good morning, going to the mall together, other places, could be the gym, binge watching Netflix… That could be defined as a boyfriend… It was a stereotype, a stupid one, but it made sense. Especially for Seokjin and you who had a history. Come on, past fuck buddies turned best friends forever? It didn’t seem very believable… Maybe you’d been kidding yourself all this time…

Or maybe you hadn’t. Regardless of finer, often ignored, details, the bare foundations of your “relationship” had been about sex. This time was different. You could enjoy one another’s company without the sex, and it felt good. It felt more than good. Last night, your legs on his lap, and then your head on his shoulder, it was a comfort you didn’t know you’d been searching for. It’s what clouded your mind, made you all confused when you’d suggested he stay the night…in your bed. 

That platonic intimacy was all well and good but you couldn’t let it ruin what you had with Seokjin at the moment. Like you said, it worked for not only you, but obviously him too. You’d crossed the line last night and embarrassingly you probably knew the reason why. It was simple really and even more simple to just deal with as you reached for your bedside drawer and pulled out something discreet and pink… There was no better way to clear a frazzled brain than a good orgasm. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d powered up your vibrator. Classes were full, work was tiring, you were busy… It made sense. To blame it on sexual frustration. Seokjin was still as handsome as ever and watching him work out in the gym would fuck with the strongest mind. 

Yes, an orgasm a day kept those thirsty thoughts away… Facts. That’s what you told yourself, and that’s what you believed. 

Seokjin  Marathon tonight?  We can easily get through six episodes 

You  🤙😜 bring chips

Seokjin  Pls stop using emojis  You text like my mom 🙇🏻‍♂️

Not a week later and somehow you and Seokjin had found yourself down a deep and dark Vampire Diaries hole… Shockingly he seemed more into it that you, which amused you to no end. Thankfully you hadn’t sent him running for the hills after your stunt that night after the gym. Maybe he put it down to you being totally disoriented due to the pain of your aching muscles. Maybe he did truly think you were drunk off half a glass of toxic waste. Or maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t noticed anything and you were just being paranoid, deluded, stupid… The list was endless. 

It helped you, consoled your worries because you didn’t have to try your hardest to act normal around him if nothing really happened. Things were normal, like you’d never asked him to spend the night in your bed. You didn’t ask him again and Seokjin made sure to ride his car to your place after that. Maybe there was nothing behind it, but yeah, now you didn’t really have a reason to ask him to stay… Even though sometimes you wanted him too, and not even like that. You just wanted to spend every waking moment with him. It was pretty frightening because you didn’t know what it meant… 

Your vibrator was doing its job to curb those pesky sexual urges of yours but there was nothing really on the market to curb those weird…needy urges of yours. Needy for some affection and warmth that Seokjin seemed to radiate. Your bodies sat closer together each night you hung out. Your legs seemed to find their way onto his lap when you wanted to stretch out and your head found his shoulder every single time you nodded off to sleep… It was like you were magnetised together, or not… It was more so that it came natural to you two. Natural after all these weeks of being back in one another’s lives, and natural after the history you had together… 

You told yourself it was okay, because your need for him wasn’t that raw, sexual type from before. No, it was something else. Something you couldn’t put your finger on. Not that you tried. It was better to not know. What you couldn’t understand couldn’t ruin everything, and you and Seokjin were fine like this. It was easy to ignore if you got to hang out with him like this regularly. If you got to joke with him and talk with him and touch him… It was easy to ignore when you had everything right in front of your eyes. Blissfully ignorant to the warmth in your chest every time you saw him. Blissfully ignorant to the pounding of your heart every time you felt his fingertips on your skin. You guessed your mind was helping your heart not get fucked over again. Or maybe you were just plain dumb… 

.

.

“I think I’m all vampire love angst-ed out for tonight,” Seokjin yawned, letting his head fall back on your couch. 

You agreed. Binging a series was all well and good but soon enough you lost concentration. “I can find something else?” You suggested, getting ready to scroll through the homepage as you moved your legs from his lap to curl them under you. 

Immediately he reached for one of your feet, massaging it absentmindedly. Maybe past you would have teased him for having a secret foot fetish but you didn’t dare to ruin it tonight. You were positive he didn’t even realise he was doing it which made it feel even better. It was such a natural, affectionate thing and you didn’t want to point it out in case he stopped. There you went again… New label: affection whore. 

“I don’t think I can concentrate on anything else,” he chuckled groggily. “We ploughed through seven episodes. It’s nearly 2am.” 

“Mhm.” You agreed, letting your head fall back too. You both looked over at one another. His hair was getting longer again, falling in his eyes. “I’m not tired though.” 

He smiled. “You aren’t?” Smiled harder when you shook your head adamantly. Sleep meant Seokjin would go home, and these days you didn’t want that at all. “Want me to stay for a little longer then?” 

You tried to play it cool, lifting your head straight as you nodded at his gentle voiced suggestion. “If you want.” Inside you were ecstatic. 

He sat up straight too, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Yeah, I can do it. Don’t have class until 3.” You felt guilty. Maybe he didn’t even want to stay any longer, but now his hand was wrapped around the top of your knee, his body leaning into you and it felt so good you stopped worrying. “Aw. How cute.” He cooed, and it took you a moment to understand what he was on about, looking in the direction of his cellphone. 

“Why are you scrolling through my IG?!”  You exclaimed immediately, seeing a picture of eight-year-old you on the screen when #tbt was still a thing… Was it still a thing…?

“It’s funny,” he shrugged. 

“It’s embarrassing.” 

You had to watch him scroll through your entire feed, picking on random pictures to laugh at. For some reason you found yourself a little nervous. No need to be, there was nothing incriminating on there. In fact, you never really used the app, didn’t have many photos on there. Especially now that you’d already deleted a handful that contained Yoongi. You’d taken the plunge to delete the memories a while back, feeling more positive about it. They were only pictures. 

“What is this?” Seokjin laughed, tilting the screen your way. 

He was greatly amused by your silly display in the image, Yumi pretending to strangle you with her own hair in some stranger’s grubby kitchen. “Oh god.” You groaned. For two reasons. 1. The face you were pulling was really embarrassing, and 2. That was the night that changed everything. Because of that night, you were here right now. “That’s the night me and you first…y’know…” You didn’t know why you were telling him that. He had no clue, and it was best not to rake up the past, but for some reason it felt like you needed to say it. 

“Really?” He asked, eyes widening as the shock formed on his face. He flipped the screen his way again, looking over the picture with a small smile. 

He looked almost wistful. It made something in your stomach tighten. You needed to ignore it, forcing your voice to sound offended when you spoke next. “You can’t remember what I was wearing?!” 

His eyes widened yet again, his mouth downturning comically. For some reason he’d missed your sarcasm. “How the hell am I supposed to remember that?” 

“Just teasing,” you giggled, giving him a nudge with your elbow. He relaxed, shaking his head to himself, and you stayed there, nestled by his side. 

“Damn.” He mused. “That seems like a life time ago now but it’s not really.” 

You nodded, wholeheartedly agreeing. “Nearly a year.” It had seemed a long time ago once upon a time, now, not at all. So much had happened between then and now, but then, not really… After all, you were still here with him. Just differently now. 

Silence seemed to blanket over you, as if you were both mulling the past over. A part of you was itching to know what he was thinking – if he was at all, but another part of you began to get a little uncomfortable at the unspoken. It was like that lately. As if you wanted him to tell you something. Did he want to tell you something? Or was it all in your head? Sometimes you wanted to tell him things… You just didn’t know what. It was like your brain wouldn’t let you make sense of how your heart was feeling. So like usual, you changed the direction of the conversation. 

“Oh. Wait! I have this app you can download if you’re bored.” He looked down at you as if you were mad. As if he could never be bored in your company, or maybe that was you wishful thinking. You shook yourself out of the deluded funk you were under and held out your hand. “Pass.” He dropped his phone in it obediently and you grabbed at his fingers, using his thumb to unlock it. They seemed to stick together for longer than needed before you spoke again and let him slide his hand away. “You know your birth info, right?” 

He groaned quietly, head falling back as he eyed you, surprisingly knowing immediately where this was going. “Astrology.” 

“Come on, it’s fun,” you insisted, opening the app store up to begin typing. “You make an account and add your friends. It tells you how compatible you are with them.” 

He watched you as if you’d lost it. His voice matched. “You know things like that aren’t really true, right? The stars don’t control our personality traits. Life and choices do.” 

You rolled your eyes. “That’s such a Sag thing to say.” 

That seemed to make him change his tune. He sounded positively offended when he spoke next. “Excuse me. Don’t use my Sagittarius status against me.” 

“If you’re so proud of it, you believe in it.” 

It was his turn to roll his eyes, scoffing. “I don’t even know what it means. Please enlighten me, oh holy one.” 

That silenced you. To be honest you didn’t know much about astrology either. You were a simple human that got excited over even simpler things. Having to listen to Lina blabber on and on about natal charts and houses and planets, and whatever else there was, while you just liked finding out if you were compatible with people… It wasn’t that serious. “I don’t know,” you mumbled lamely, much to Seokjin’s glee. He looked so smug he’d shut you up, you felt the urge to do the same to him pretty much jump out of you.  

“Apparently Sags are free spirited. Don’t really do commitment. Figures.” 

Those were honestly some of the most generic things you could have chosen, bound to get you beat by your own best friend, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and it seemed to do the trick regarding Seokjin anyway. Or, surprisingly, it worked a little too well. He sounded genuinely taken back. “Wow. Okay, that is a harmful stereotype. I can do commitment.” 

Pretty sure he was joking, but also the last statement making you a little confused, if not just by the way his voice turned all high pitched, you continued to tease him. “Okay, Kim Seokjin who has never had a girlfriend in his life.” 

He looked a little speechless at that, expression frozen as his mouth hung open. “That means nothing. So what if I’ve never been in a relationship before, I’m still a faithful person.” 

You eyed him sceptically, semi aware you were pretty much bickering now. Bickering about astrology. Well, you’d wanted a diversion… “But you have nothing to base it on.” Committedly staying faithful to a fuck buddy wasn’t exactly the type of commitment you were on about, and even then, he hadn’t technically done that… Fuck. You thought of Sohee instantly. It was stupid, you’d already been through all that and it really was no big deal, but it still seemed to pop up in your mind. You said nothing of what you thought though, thankfully, and Seokjin was shaking his head to himself, not listening anymore anyway. “Astrology is bullshit. I’m sticking with it.” 

You welcomed the break in conversation direction, but seemed to steer it in an even awkwarder one, because well, you were you. “Not all the time. Lina made a fake account for Yoongi and we really didn’t match well on most things.” 

He sniggered. If a noise could both sound amused and condescending in one go, it was that one. “You really need astrology to tell you that?”

That silenced you. Maybe it was his tone, or maybe just what he said, but it made you feel a little stupid. Like possibly Yoongi and you had never really been right for one another and you’d just been deluded the whole time you’d dated. But also, what, Seokjin thought that the whole time too? He just watched you up and leave and attempt to have a relationship with Yoongi? Was he laughing behind your back this entire time? 

“Okay. What do I need to do?” 

Or maybe you were just too sensitive. There was no malice in his words, and there was no need to get so uptight about everything. He was smiling your way as he took his phone back and waited for your reply. He was going to use the damn app like you’d wanted him to.  

You grinned triumphantly, happy he was complying finally, and shuffled back closer to him. Apparently the slight squabble had created some unnoticed distance. “Birthday. Place of birth. Oh,” you suddenly remembered. “Birth time… Do you know it?” 

He looked at you through his bangs. “No. It’s not like I was mentally aware at barely minutes old.” 

His sarcasm annoyed you and narrowing your eyes you pushed at his shoulder. “Ask your mom.” 

“I am not going to get a reply at 2 in the morning.” 

Oh. That was right… It was late. You’d forgotten. With Seokjin time seemed to pass you by alarmingly fast. You swore your bedtime used to be at a reasonable hour before this friendship happened. 

“Don’t worry,” he chuckled, mistaking your expression. “I think I have an idea. It might be wrong though. What if one mistake tells us we’re mortal enemies?” You whacked his shoulder again and he hunched them, protecting himself as he typed in his info. “Okay, now what?” He asked when he was done and the screen loaded. 

“That’s your natal chart.” 

“I don’t know what that means.” 

You ignored him in favour of snatching his phone to scroll through. Once again pretty much clueless to it all but able to find remarks anyway. “Ouch. Aries moon.” 

“What’s that face for?” He practically worried, noticing your grimace. 

You shrugged. “Not really a fan of Aries.” 

“Hey.” 

“You can’t be offended. You don’t believe, remember?” You shot playfully. 

“Hmm,” he grumbled. “Doesn’t seem you like Sagittarius either…” God. Was he really upset over this? You fought the urge to call him cute. He probably wouldn’t appreciate it. Either that or wouldn’t let you live it down. “What do I do now? How can I find out if we’re compatible or not?” 

“Add me.” You did just that for him, searching your username before passing his phone back to him and grabbing your own to accept his request. That’s when you got distracted, scrolling through your account instead to read your long-awaited compatibility. Seokjin’s phone held forgotten in his hand as he waited for your reactions. “Oh,” was all you gave him. 

“What? Huh?” He sounded worried again. It wasn’t like it was a bad oh. Far from it in fact. But it was more of a shocked oh. This was much better than you’d had with anyone else. Much better than Lina. Much, much, much better than Yoongi… It wasn’t like you hadn’t been expecting it, but really it was just astrology… You know you’d fought Seokjin on the matter not ten minutes previous, but he did have a point… It wasn’t that serious… So why were you so happy right now? You were ecstatic over a damn astrology app because it told you that you got along well… Lame. 

“Lemme see,” he whined, totally discarding his phone to grab yours instead. You let him, still a little lost in your own head, buzzing over nothing, and he scrolled dumbly. “We have a lot of smiley faces, is that good?” 

There was a beat of silence, having to force yourself to make normal conversation again. “Yeah,” you smiled, leaning in to point at the screen. “We only have one conflicting aspect. Philosophies in life. That’s fine.” Seokjin seemed impressed, only you knew he secretly wasn’t having an internal breakdown over it like you. Your insides felt funny. No matter what you guys did, something always seemed to trigger your body into acting weird. Maybe astrological compatibility was a bad move. You were dumb. 

“Sex and aggression? What?” He muttered to himself, reading the headings of each section in bemusement. The next thing you knew, he was grinning smugly at you. You waited in confusion. “Hello. It’s telling me our sexual chemistry is off the charts.” 

“It is not,” you insisted, astonished he’d even say that out loud to you. Yes, there were times you skirted around your hook ups – the gym leggings always came to mind, when he basically admitted he’d checked out your ass – but as an unspoken rule, you didn’t speak about your past. Hell, you didn’t even speak much about sex in general. It wasn’t awkward, it seemed to work well, but now… Well, you’d done this to yourself, hadn’t you? Stupid fucking app… 

Seokjin cocked an eyebrow. “What it wasn’t off the charts?” You went to reply no, that wasn’t what you meant, but stopped yourself. That would just make things worse, and by the look of the smirk on his face he wasn’t done teasing you anyway. He wiped it away and regarded you seriously. “Please don’t tell me you were faking it the whole time.” 

“Eww,” you couldn’t help but exclaim, dragging the syllable out. Ahhh. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You could already feel your cheeks burning. The natural reaction to anything to do with sex and Seokjin these days. He picked up on it straight away. 

“Don’t go red,” he grinned. “I know I was the best fuck you ever had. This app basically confirms it.” 

“Oh, my god.” That’s all you could manage. Safe for wanting the ground to open up and swallow you and the couch, it’s all you could do. Those words had actually left his mouth, and now you were fucked. You’d be thinking about them for a long time. You shouldn’t be thinking of things like that when it came to friends. You tried to take a few hidden slow breaths, attempting to cool the scorching of your cheeks and sound normal when you spoke again. “Do you always have to speak about sex?” 

Teasing on teasing, it was the best way to go. Just ignore everything else, like the reality of the situation and hide. 

He answered, that shit eating grin still on his face. “Lies. I haven’t spoken about sex with you since we became friends.” Why did he say it like that, like he had it in quotations? You’d fucked up with this one, you should’ve just stuck to watching Vampire Diaries. 

“You get all uptight and red. Look like you’re going to explode,” he continued, nudging you with his shoulder. You shook your head, refusing to look at his face now. “Like now,” he laughed. You’d proved his point beautifully, because yes, your head was about 0.5 seconds away from blowing right off your shoulders from pure panic and awkwardness. However, not only that, but you also had the awful sinking feeling you get when you knew you couldn’t hide from something anymore. It wasn’t really him you were hiding from, but yourself… 

“What changed? You never used to get this embarrassed when I was—

“Stop right there,” you warned, jerking your head up to point at him, positive you’d keel over if he finished his sentence. That, or jump him. Your face was hot, yes, but so was your body. Between your legs was beginning to get that familiar glow. You couldn’t help it. The air had seemed to turn hot, stuffy, and despite your awkwardness over the conversation you were still very much sat tight to him, body curled in his direction. There was the whole of the couch but you two were crammed in one seat – like you had been all night. 

“Okay,” he surrendered, hands up, resting his head against the cushions again, before a little smirk spread its way across his face. “This app just obviously knows what it’s talking about.” 

You groaned instantly, defeated, turning to press your forehead into the back of the couch too.  “I can’t with you.” You couldn’t do this. Make eye contact, have a conversation that was tiptoeing around edges you didn’t want to acknowledge. You were flustered, awkward, and something told you Seokjin was loving it. He loved having this effect on you. 

“Really? Then tell me why you had sex with me way over a hundred times?” 

“YOU KEPT COUNT?!” That did it. You were so momentarily shocked, head bursting up to stare at him, the awkwardness was gone, distracted away. 

“No,” he replied, smiling almost sheepishly but still sounding unfazed. “It’s a guesstimate.” 

“A guesstimate?” You repeated, unable to stop yourself from laughing. He liked that, laughing too as he poked your knees with his fingers absentmindedly. “Seokjin, do you keep a little black book? A tally chart?” You teased, voice low. 

“No,” he insisted. “I’m just saying, we were hooking up for over four months. Now, not that we had sex every single day of those four months, because we didn’t. My dick would’ve fallen off, but there were times when you wanted me to fuck you multiple times in one night—”

You couldn’t help but interrupt him, scoffing in disbelief. “I wanted you to? More like you wanted to.” This was dangerous territory. You were enjoying yourself a little too much, forgetting yourself… Forgetting what you were so worried about. 

He stared at you, sarcasm loud and clear. “Okay. Keep believing that.” He pulled his hand up to scratch at his forehead and it took you a moment to realise at some point you’d latched onto it. “But anyway.” He continued, “say there’s 30 days in one month. Multiply that by four and you get 120. I’m actually being very lenient. We definitely fucked more than a hundred times.” 

“Oh my fucking god, you’re such a nerd,” you groaned. Your face still felt hot but the embarrassment had gone for the most part. No, it was something else… He was still a nerd though. An inaccurate nerd, but one nonetheless. 

“It’s simple math.” He shrugged, seemingly unbothered as he went back to scrolling through the phone to continue reading. You watched him, hoping he couldn’t hear how loud your heart was beating in your chest. The adrenaline was pumping through your veins scarily fast. For what? 

“Our way of loving is very compatible,” he nodded to himself, sounding like some sort of professor making sense of his findings.

You whined. “Quit concentrating on the sex.” Did he want you to start remembering back? That wasn’t a good idea, nor was it a good idea for the batteries in your vibrator. The thought almost made you cringe. You were twisted. Sick and twisted. Hope Seokjin was happy with himself. 

“I’m not! It keeps coming up!” He enraged, huffing softly to himself as he began to read again. You smiled. “Okay. How about this?” Obviously he’d been searching for something else. Something more substantial. “The way we grow and dream are aligned. That’s deep.” 

You smiled harder. “I thought you didn’t believe in astrology.” 

He upturned a shoulder. “I don’t. It’s just funny how they know our hook ups were pretty amazing.” 

“Seokjin!” You hit his chest. This wasn’t fair. 

“You’ve turned red again.” 

“No wonder.” However, it wasn’t due to any type of mortification like he probably thought. You were just very…uncomfortable, if that made sense. There was no longer a glow between your legs, but a burn. “Stop. What is with you tonight?” You whined. “You’re tired. You’re talking without a filter.” 

It probably wasn’t that. Usually careful, like you’d said, tonight was different. Very different. Similar to how you used to act when you were having sex with one another. What had gotten into him, and why did it feel like you were getting your hopes up? You were slightly nervous. Slightly scared. Slightly excited. Hopeful...  

“Nah.” He shook his head casually. “The app is just inflating my ego.” 

That was it. You threw your hands at him again, pushing at his chest in a bid to shut him up once and for all. He couldn’t just tease you and get away with it. It was grossly unfair. You were sensitive. Somewhere was sensitive to this kind of behaviour. Always had been. 

“Stop hitting me,” he yelled, indignant and dramatic, making you laugh. 

He grabbed a hold of your hands, stopping you from doing anymore damage to his precious body, but when you fought back he pushed you down, squashing you into the arm of the couch. Defenceless and at his mercy as he began tickling under your arms. You stammered his name, unable to do much else between the gasps of breath and high-pitched giggling, but he didn’t relent, leaning into you as he laughed along, sofa beginning to squeak under the avid movement, ticking whatever he could reach now. 

“J-Jin, stop—STOP,” you managed to finally shriek, trying your best to wriggle away from him. You stopped trying to fight his fingers in favour of going for something more sensitive. His nipples. In your defence, you were being attacked. You pinched one of them, missing the other while roaring, “You know I’m ticklish!!” 

“Hey. Woah. W-woah,” he panicked, easing up immediately but still lightly tickling your sides. “Not the nipples. You’ll make them bleed.” 

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes. “You’re lucky I didn’t go for your dick.” 

“Lucky?” He eyed you. “I don’t know if I’d call it that.” 

Time seemed to freeze for a moment, his words ringing in your ears. There was really only one way you could take that, right? Dangerous territory back, however with the whole impromptu tickle fight, did it ever go away? This was just worse because he was basically on top of you. There was nowhere to escape – thoughts included. 

“You need to be stopped,” you warned, but there was a grin on your face as you spoke. The flirtation went both ways. You hoped he realised that, caught on. 

He pulled his hands back. It took you a moment to realise he’d stopped tickling you a while ago. “I can’t help it. I like hearing you laugh,” he said, smiling as he moved to sit properly again. He grabbed your hand to help you up too. You took it gladly, gripping it like you wanted him to know you didn’t want to let go. “I like seeing you happy.” He continued. God. What was he doing? You watched him tilt his head, looking you right in the eyes. “Do I make you happy?” 

You couldn’t fight your grin any longer, shaking your head a little in disbelief. It was both ways and he did realise. “I think you know the answer to that.” 

Your eyes locked for a moment, and you were almost begging him to just say something else, do something else, but the slight masochistic part of you loved the waiting, the unknown, the longing… It was like some sort of competition between the two of you. To see who could go the longest, tease the hardest, until one of you blew and gave in… Or maybe you were both just too nervous and scared and this was the only bit of relief you could get… Shameless flirting that got you embarrassingly flustered… 

Seokjin wasn’t going to burst tonight. He let go of your hand to pick up his phone, knowing you were still watching him as he smiled. “I’m sure some type of something will tell me that on this stupid app.” It took you a moment to catch what he was referring to. Words slipping through your mind and out of your ears as quickly as they sounded. Yes, that fucker made you happy and didn’t he know it. You stretched your legs out across his lap. 

“When’s the last time you went to a party?” 

You furrowed your eyebrows at his random question. Just like that your previous conversation was over, or just dormant until the next time it was brought up, which probably wouldn’t be a long wait. You shrugged. “Yonks ago. You know how much I hate them.” You wouldn’t say it out loud in fear of making the moment awkward, but the last two parties you’d attended weren’t very high up on your fond memories list… 

“Brian’s having one at his parents’ this weekend. They’re out of town. Come along.”

He sounded so casual you wouldn’t think he’d been practically on top of you tickling the life out of you not five minutes previous. Flirting with you shamelessly, basically insinuating he wanted you to touch his dick. Fuck. There it was. Thoughts slipping into your brain. You hoped he knew how infuriating he was sometimes. “I don’t know, I don’t know him that well,” was what you replied. You could do casual too. Even if your voice was slightly shaky. The tickling or something else, who knew… 

“He said I could ask you.” Seokjin shook your knee encouragingly, like he was softly urging you to say yes. “It’s not a big party, nothing too crazy. He said you can invite Lina too, her boyfriend.” He paused to shrug. “If you don’t want to come alone or with me.” 

You snickered. “I don’t want to cramp your style.” 

“I thought we both agreed I don’t have style.” 

That just made you laugh harder, pressing the pads of your fingers into the veins of his hand. He didn’t seem to mind. He really wanted you to come, huh? But you needed to hear him say it himself… “Do you want me to come?” 

He glanced at you, matter of fact as he replied. “I think you know the answer to that.” 

And just like that, not even two minutes later, you were back where you always ended up…

In circles. 

“Christ. I’m going to have to cut the sexual tension with a knife soon.” 

You turned to Lina, slumped and looking painfully held against her will on the couch next to you. You couldn’t tell if the party was shit or if it was something else, considering what she’d just commented. “What do you mean?” 

Her eyes widened, unable to believe you were actually that clueless. (You weren’t.) “You and him,” she paused to shoot a look over at Seokjin drinking in the doorway of Brian’s lounge. “You’ve been eyeballing one another all night.” She wasn’t bothering to whisper and you panicked, whacking her elbow. “He can’t hear us,” she exclaimed. She was correct. The music was so loud you bet there’d be a noise complaint soon enough. Brian lived in a nice part of town… 

It was so loud you managed to successfully evade her remarks. Not that she was really looking for an answer. If she was sensing tension, you were drowning in it… You were hoping it wasn’t that obvious... Maybe it was worse than you thought… These last few days had been a little weird. You’d finally managed to acknowledge that something was going on between Jin and you. It wasn’t just friendship, and you were nearly 100% certain he felt the same. You just didn’t know what it was you both felt, and you didn’t want to know just yet. There was plenty of time for that. Or so you thought. You’d made the decision to just wait and see how things naturally progressed, wanting to enjoy whatever the hell was happening between you two as it evolved. Only, it seemed to be evolving at a much faster pace than you’d expected. Tonight just proved that. 

You hadn’t seen him for near five days. Work and college were kicking both your asses, along with other friendship commitments, because apparently no one ever saw you anymore since Seokjin had arrived back on the scene… (Lina’s words.) You thought you’d be fine. You knew you were seeing him tonight, and you had been fine. Perfectly fine until you’d walked through Brian’s door and seen Seokjin in the kitchen knocking back a beer. Your first thought was how you’d been able to bear hanging around with him at such a close proximity when he was just so goddamn hot?! Dressed in all black, hair parted so that dangerous forehead of his was on show... You were made of steel. But not anymore… Your knees felt weak as he spotted you and raised his glass, winking playfully. That was Lina’s first groan of the night. By now you were twenty something deep and she’d totally gotten the message…

You wanted Seokjin. The thought had never been so clear. It wasn’t this clear when you were hooking up all those months ago and it wasn’t this clear when you were masturbating in your bed trying to fool yourself you were just sexually frustrated. It wasn’t even this clear four nights ago when you were lying in bed not an hour after the tickle attack coming up with the facts after Seokjin had left. 

The facts were you’d fallen for him. You didn’t know when, but it was obviously somewhere down the line of your new friendship. You didn’t even want to think when. It was all too confusing, and you had much better things to think about. Like how warm his hands were and how hard his body was. How cute his laugh sounded and how soft you remembered his lips to be… You couldn’t even think about what that all meant. For you, for him, for… Nevermind. You didn’t want to think tonight. That could come at a later date. You were sick of thinking. You just wanted to feel. 

You hadn’t felt like this in forever. You wondered if you’d ever felt like this? The excitement was similar to how it used to be months ago, when you and Seokjin were hooking up and you’d see one another at a party or out clubbing, but it had never been this intense. You felt giddy all night. It was pretty embarrassing, especially with Lina as your witness. But you couldn’t care, not when it seemed like Seokjin was feeling the same vibes. It was funny, like you were both playing a little game. You hadn’t even spoken in person all night, the stolen glances and little text messages seemed a better idea. Maybe there was some shyness involved too, or maybe Seokjin was still a little scared of Lina… Either way, you fooled around like that all night. You still kept rereading the first messages of the night in between smiles and now longing glances… You were actually taking another look when Lina had finally stated the apparent. 

 Seokjin  Hey : ) You look really pretty tonight  Not that you don’t always 

“Are you going to speak to him at all, or?” She prodded after a few more minutes, catching another smile your way. Seokjin noticed too and quickly looked away, probably afraid Lina would have his guts for garters if he stared long enough. 

You couldn’t help but giggle at him, replying at the same time. “He hasn’t come over.” Not that you were bothered. She knew that too. 

“Oh for fuck sake,” she groaned. “You’re enjoying this. I feel dirty. Like I’m watching in on something I shouldn’t.” 

You shrugged her off. She was miserable because Mr. Perfect Park Jimin couldn’t make it, too busy studying for a Monday morning test… You were surprised however, when she stood up to leave. “Friends my ass. I’m getting a drink.”

“Don’t be like that,” you whined. But also you were needy, you didn’t want to be alone in the middle of a party. 

She ignored you, leaning in to actually speak quieter this time. “Make a move or I’ll start hating him again.” You looked up at her with wide eyes, not quite believing your ears. Was this the voice of all reason? But maybe more importantly, was this Lina’s very own blessing? 

Her parting line before she flounced off left you sat there nonplussed. “Now I know why you care so much about my opinion on him.” 

You looked over at the doorway again. Seokjin was joking around with Hoseok and you took the time to really study him. Had the sight of just his face always made you this breathless? The way his cheeks rounded when he smiled, the ways his eyes crinkled… Even his ears were cute. Since when had his mere existence turned your life upside down and why were you only now realising it? 

It was like you were seeing clearly for the first time. Kinda like putting on your glasses in the morning and everything comes into focus. You could see again. No, you could finally see. Seokjin. It was him. It wasn’t just some sexual attraction you shared, a sexual connection. It wasn’t that small, that petty… It was more than that. You wanted it to be more than that. You needed it to be more, and you needed him to feel the same… 

You looked towards where Lina had disappeared. She saw it too. Make a move. That what she’d said, but you were scared. You were always scared. You’d gotten hurt so many times before. However… However, Seokjin was different. He wasn’t like the rest. He was Seokjin. The guy who knew you better than anyone. The one who had been there for you when you’d needed someone, helped you without asking… 

Make a move. 

You should make a move. You didn’t want to play games anymore. You couldn’t wait any longer. 

The buzz of your phone caught your attention. You opened the messages quickly. 

Seokjin  Look at me again ;(  I miss you  It’s been days since I last saw you

You kept missing one another. You’d just been staring at him for the past couple of minutes and as soon as you’d looked away, he was looking back… It felt like it captured something else. How you’d both been all this time… 

You looked up to meet his eyes. He gave you the warmest smile. One that felt like he hadn’t seen you in weeks even though he’d been in the same building as you all night. It made the tugging in your chest more apparent than ever before. The yearning now finally making sense. It was for him, and he was looking at you as if you were the only person in this way, way too fancy house. 

You looked away quickly, unsure if you even smiled back at him. Your heart was thudding against your ribcage, mind racing, and you really needed something. Water? Fresh air? No, something else… 

You i can’t look at you again tonight 

Seokjin  How come?

Seokjin replied immediately. Poor guy, he was probably confused by your peculiar behaviour. Not that you had much time to recognise that. You were too busy typing again. You knew what you needed. 

You  because i’ll want to kiss you 

And with that, you were gone. Darting out the opposite doorway. Brian’s house was massive, and you were pretty sure no one was allowed upstairs but you bolted up there anyway, the music getting quieter as you made it further. Your cellphone burnt in your palm, reminding you of your own stupidity, but soon enough it was vibrating again. You dreaded to look but knew you had to. 

Seokjin  Wait  Where did you go  ????

You made it down the hall, flicking on a light to see all the doors were closed. You tried your luck at opening one. It was locked, probably his parents’ bedroom, so you tried another. That led to a bathroom, and while it would do, you didn’t really feel like having a breakdown in there, you know, being at a party and all. You weren’t even drunk. The third door you tried was thankfully unlocked. A bedroom. Not Brian’s. Too florally. You sat on the bed, door ajar, letting some light in as you text Seokjin back with shaky fingers. 

You upstairs  i’m embarrassed 🤧

He replied instantly. He’d definitely been waiting. It made you feel better. 

Seokjin Don’t be  Can I follow you?

You please  i’m in the bedroom with the door half open 

You replied without much thought. Yes, you were embarrassed but you really wanted to see him. To speak to him. To kiss him. You really wanted that. How had you been able to suppress it for so long? 

You stood up to wait for him, unable to keep still and awkwardly stared facing the door, heart still thudding loudly in your chest. You could hear it echoing through your ears. He wasn’t long. He burst through the door like there was a fire but stopped in his tracks when he saw you stood there. Waiting for him. 

He smiled softly but his eyes stayed afraid to blink. “Hey.” 

“Hey.” You smiled back. Your first words of the night. They were enough. 

“What’s going on—”

Your mouth was on his before he could finish. You didn’t even remember breaking the distance between you two, but there you were, pressing your lips into the curve of his. They were just as soft as you remembered. Softer. But as soon as you’d had the feel he was pulling away, hooking under your elbows to part you both, looking bewildered. “Wait, you’re really kissing me?” 

You heart fell into your gut, opening your mouth to apologise. Maybe you’d misread everything. Maybe he didn’t want you. Maybe he’d followed you to let you down gently like the fool you were… However as soon as the panicked thoughts had entered your mind he was kissing them away, laughing in disbelief as he moulded into you, wrapping his arms around your middle. 

You met each flurry of his mouth, small kisses in quick succession, like you were both too afraid to break away for too long and you flung your arms around his shoulders, locking him to you. “Is that okay?” You whispered between hot presses, which was very pointless now seeing as he’d made the second move. 

He chuckled. “It’s more than okay.” 

And that was that. You didn’t need anymore insisting or persuading. Seokjin wanted to kiss you too, and that’s what you let him do. You wanted to think more. Like about how this wasn’t the best place to share such a moment. In a bedroom you weren’t allowed in. At a party for god’s sakes. Yet, perhaps it was fitting. That first night you’d spent together was at a party. It was a stupid idea at the time, something you thought you’d regret, but nope, you didn’t regret a thing. No, this moment right here was pretty perfect. More than pretty perfect. It was perfect. It really was. 

Just like him. You didn’t know when Kim Seokjin had become the one you were looking for. He probably always was, you’d just been stupid. Oblivious. Blind. These past couple of months had really opened your eyes. You’d let him into your heart. Your heart that you’d been sure wasn’t working properly. Turns out there was nothing wrong with it. It just thrummed to Seokjin’s smile. Seokjin’s laugh. Seokjin’s voice. You found the way he twitched his nose without realising cute. Couldn’t stop thinking about how adorable his serious face was. Remembered how surprised you were when you found out he actually had a pretty good singing voice and how after that you’d tried your best into tricking and baiting him to sing for you… It never worked. 

You laughed at the memory. Seokjin had no clue what you were so amused by, but he laughed along too. Sounding so genuinely happy it just made you laugh harder. You were lost again. Your thoughts would have to go on pause. Just for a bit. So you could enjoy this fully. This was what you’d been missing. It was crystal clear. Everything you’d been searching for. It was Seokjin. You were slow, months late, but it was him. 

The warmth of his tongue glided across your bottom lip, ever so gently trying to seek entrance into the warmth of your mouth. You gave it to him gladly, tasting him eagerly. The familiarity seeped through your veins, your mind almost in a dreamlike state as you moved together. Things were just how you left them. He still felt the same under your fingertips and tasted the same against your tongue. Only tonight there was a little difference. In the way he moved. In the way he treated you. There was something more. Something that had been missing in the past. Something you’d both never thought about. 

He moved you, walking backwards with you still cradled in his arms as he slowly began shutting the door with his back. He flipped you then, so that you took his place and he gently pushed you back until the door clicked. That blanketed you both in darkness, but you didn’t care. If anything he kissed you harder, hands running down your waist and digging into your hips as yours explored the broadness of his shoulders and length of his back. You could taste the slightest hint of beer too, but unlike in the past when you’d whined and pulled a face, you welcomed it. He matched each sweet sigh you gave him with his own low moan. 

However soon enough the deeper the kiss got, the more overwhelmed you became, each curl of his tongue taking the breath from right within your chest, so you were not disappointed or desperate when he slowed down, returning to kissing you in small, quick successions. His breathing ragged, his eyes unfocused as he fluttered them open to find you staring back at him. 

“Seokjin,” you murmured, clinging to him to now, fingertips pressing into his shoulder blades. You wanted to say more. You had a lot to tell him, but you were dizzy and the words wouldn’t come. God. You had so much to say. 

“I’m here,” he smiled, rubbing your noses together. As if understanding completely and reassuring you. He kissed at your mouth a few more times but it was no where near as urgent as before. All your pent-up frustration had evaporated and in its place was just the urge to keep on feeling things softly. Feeling things gently. 

He held your hips, keeping you close to him, and maybe he could read the look in your eyes. It matched his. “Sh-should we be doing this right now?” His voice was fragile. Still affected but also nervous. “Maybe we should slow down. Catch a breath.” He stroked up and down your sides as he continued. 

You let the comfort of his warm breath against your face wash over you and nodded slowly. 

“Sorry,” you apologised, although unneeded. “I do want this though.” 

He smiled again. “I want this too.” A kiss to the tip of your nose this time as you let out a soft exhale. You were too happy for words. Nervous, yes. Uncertain, you bet. However you hadn’t felt this contented in a long while. If ever. This relieved. It wasn’t a dream. Seokjin and you were on the same page. 

“Let’s wait until tomorrow?” He asked carefully. This was new to you both and you needed to make sure nothing was rushed nor ignored. “We can talk properly and work out what’s going on with us, hm?” 

You nodded again, lips sticky and warm as you tugged your bottom one between your teeth. “That sounds good.” 

He hugged you in response. A proper hug. One you’d been in need of for a while. You just hadn’t realised until his arms were wrapped tightly around your body, pressing you into his. You closed your eyes and inhaled his scent.

“It does,” he agreed.

Written 2019-20. Reworked/Edited 2020 Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2020

[thehomierobbstark]

Let’s Talk About Sex: Intermission

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Pairing: Erik Killmonger x Reader [#TeamErikDon’tDateWhiteChicks]

Prompt: Erik’s a little upset after last chapter’s events…

A/N: So these intermissions are gonna be little breaks in between the main storyline. Basically they’re the random ideas I get that aren’t big enough for a full chapter.

For this one, I don’t think I’ve ever written this type of story before so I’m not super sure if I did it right. Let me know if you have any feedback! Also this story starts off in the past, then catches up to itself in the present. I’m not sure if the transition worked or if it was clear, but if you have feedback on that it would also be super appreciated.

Warnings: At the bottom 👇🏿👇🏿👇🏿.

This is for all my lil cute ass black gorditas out there rockin back fat, belly rolls and thick ass thighs that touch!!  x Reader is always gon be black, chubby, and sassy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ok, now hold it in … 1…2…3… ok now let it out.”

You exhale, tasting the remnants of the Albuterol on your tongue as you drum your fingers against the counter, taking in a couple more practice breaths. You’re glad you have something to stay focused on to keep you from rolling your eyes in the most annoyed way. He just wants to help, Y/N.

“I swear Erik… I’m fine… baby can we please just-”

“No talking.”

“Baby I’m just-”

“Hush, Y/N.” He gives your words back to you, and you hush, eyes drifting up to the ceiling in a subtle, lazy eye roll.

“You not slick, I saw that.” You want to mock him so bad, but you don’t want to push it, knowing how on edge he already was from the whole situation.

*10 Minutes Earlier*

“I can’t find it!!” You hear drawers being pulled open and contents shuffling around noisily before hearing it slam and another one open.

You pad into the hallway, trying to cautiously peek around the corner into the now trashed bathroom. You see stuff thrown everywhere, hair brushes and picks scattered all over the counter and jars of various products littering the floor. You find Erik under the cabinet, pulling out even more items, making a complete mess.

“Baby, what are you doing?” You ask him, trying to step through the increasingly cluttered space.

“I’m looking for your medicine! Come on now, baby!” You hear the panic start to rise in his voice, and you hold your hands up in defense.

“Ok, ok, dumb question, my bad.” You try to alleviate his nerves with some light humor. “But hun…I just wanna ask one thing,”

“What? Wassup baby?” You hear the echo of his voice from inside the enclosed cabinet, still hearing him move stuff around. You chew on your bottom lip, hoping he’ll take the moment to laugh at himself and relax a little bit.

“Why would the medicine be under the sink, babe?”

The shuffling stops and he pulls himself out of the cramped space, head popping up. “Oh,”.

You laugh, shaking your head at him as you reach over to pop open the sink cabinet.

“Dumbass,…” you mutter, grabbing the inhaler off the second shelf before closing it and turning around, leaning on the counter.

“Uhh… you know you cleaning this shit up by yourself, right?” You point with the inhaler around the bathroom, and Erik just looks at you, the most unamused expression plastered there.

He looks so done with you, and if you didn’t still have phlegm clogging up your chest, you’d be doubled over in laughter right now. You didn’t mean to be laughing at your sweet, caring man, but you just couldn’t help it. Here he was, completely flipping out over something you’ve been dealing with since you were born, and it was the most entertaining thing to you. He was so spoiled, having lived with functioning lungs his whole life. What a baby.

“Look E, if that bitch death really want me, she gon have to come a lot harder than a couple coughing spells and some rogue spit.” You say, trying to acknowledge the issue and move it along.

“Ok Y/N, you talking that shit, but you was deadass bout to choke just now.”

“Actually now that I think about it, why are we talking about the past? Can’t we just move on?” you suggest fakely, starting to backtrack and change the subject now.  You were willing to move past this and write it off as an embarrassingly funny story until he started hitting you with the facts, and you realized he was being far more serious than you thought.

“Uh huh, sitting there talking all that mess with ya broke ass lungs.  Why you still wheezing, huh?”

He starts shoving stuff back into the cabinet, closing it before moving you aside to scoop all the stray items on the counter into a drawer before lifting you on it to sit. You make a face at the cold counter against your naked warm skin, but you don’t say anything. You don’t even give him an answer, not trusting yourself to do so without your voice cracking and you bursting into tears. (Ok, maybe you were being a little dramatic, but I mean, you and your broke ass lungs had feelings too, dammit!)

He takes the inhaler from you, standing between your still soaked thighs and he places it in front of your lips.

“Open.”

And thats how you found yourself, presently.

You comply, sighing as you do it. Checking with his eyes watching yours, he waits until you exhale fully, then gives you a pump of the medicine at the same time you inhale. He repeats the count again, and you drag it out, giving the medicine some extra time to clean out your airway before finally breathing out through your nose. You’re so glad you didn’t keep the accompanying attachment for the inhaler at his place too, otherwise he’d really have you fucked up. You already felt dumb for having him sit here and give you your medicine like you weren’t capable of doing it on your own.

“Okay Dr. Webber, you done now?” You swing your legs over the edge, feeling like a child in the nurses office waiting to be let back onto the playground.

“Don’t be calling me that old nigga,” he mumbles, reaching around you to grab one of the wash clothes hanging over the shower and flipping on the warm tap.

You watch him quietly as he runs the wash cloth under the water, rinsing it out and then repeating the action. When he gets the washcloth to an even warm temperature, he stops the sink to allow a small pool to collect before turning off the faucet and ringing the excess water from the cloth.

He helps clean you off, wiping away your sticky fluids from between your legs before rinsing out the rag in the sink, ringing it out and lifting your leg to start again.

If felt nice to be taken care of and fussed over, and you sit back and let him do his thing, knowing that he was busying himself because there was something on his mind he wasn’t ready to say yet. You wanted him to know that you were here and you were ready to listen, but you didn’t want to rush him, so you start off gently.

“E,” you tilt your head to the side, trying to look him in the eyes. He acknowledges you with a glance up to you, finishing up wiping you off and dumping the wet rag in the sink and letting the water out. He braces himself over it, heaving a big sigh, head hanging down.

“Erik…” you try again, whispering, softly grabbing at his pinky with your index and holding it. You feel him squeeze you back.

You lean forward to let your head fall on his shoulder, eyes closed, fingers still locked, content with being with him like this. You just needed him to know that you were here, and you were staying, and that even if it took him hours to say what he felt you would still be here patiently waiting.

It takes a little while, but he finally pulls his face from the warm spot on your neck, pressing kisses onto your cheek and over your eyes until he reaches your forehead. He wraps you in both of his arms in a huge bear hug and hold you against him, resting his head on top of yours.

“You scared the shit out of me baby,” his voice is heavy, and you can hear the terror behind it as he takes in a shaky breath. You clutch him tighter, your heart skipping.

“And the worst part, was that you didn’t even seem to care.”

You pull back, your own breath starting to hitch as you look at his face, seeing the hurt there. Your heart ached. You would have never tried brushing it off so quickly had you known how much your asthma attack actually affected him.

“No,” You grab his face in your hands, wanting so much to take his pain away, “Baby no! I care! Of course I care! I love you Erik, you know that…”

“I know you do. But I’m talking about you, baby. You didn’t seem to care about yourself… and I didn’t know what to do. I just felt so stuck and helpless and then you sounded so bad…”

You didn’t want to interrupt him, wanting him to say everything he was feeling to help him verbalize it, but you also didn’t want him to start spiraling down a rabbit hole worrying himself with ‘what ifs’.

“Hey, hey,” You stroke his face, bringing it to yours and holding him there. “It’s okay, I hear you baby, I’m with you. Just breathe with me, okay?”

You caress his cheek as you slow down your breath by example, letting him sync up with you until you were both taking deep, steady breaths.

“I never meant to scare you, I promise. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You hear your own voice start to become choked up too, and even though you don’t want to, you let it come, tears streaming down your face.

You were upset to know that something you treated so casually made him feel this way, and you were upset with yourself for not taking how he felt into consideration when you reacted the way you did.

“I need to know that you’re in this with me, Y/N. I need to know that you care about yourself as much as I do. Cuz when you told me not to call the cops, I was so afraid of what could’ve happened…. and for a second I really thought I was gonna end up alone again…”

You heart all but shatters in a million pieces at the last part, knowing how hard it was for him to refer to the things from his past. Even though it hurt to hear, you were glad he was being honest to help you put things in perspective.

You didn’t realize how many offhanded, crappy jokes you were always making about yourself until you really thought about it. Degrading, dismissive, and crude jokes aimed at yourself had become an almost standard part of your personality, and you were always writing yourself off as part of a humorous anecdote.  It was a defense mechanism you’d picked up a long time ago in an effort to try and hurt your own feelings first before someone else had the chance to, and without you even noticing it had become the standard way you chose to speak to yourself.

It was no wonder Erik was upset; all he ever hears is you talk down to yourself. You take a moment to flip the scenario, trying to identify how you would feel if you were in Erik’s shoes, and you sniffle some more.

It would hurt your soul to hear Erik talk about himself so horribly and not take his health seriously, and you don’t need to hear anything else from Erik to understand where he’s coming from.

“I’m in this with you, Stevens. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” You mumble into his lips, both of you looking into each others eyes.  He looks between yours for a few moments before he finally relaxes, belief from your words calming him.

He finally presses his lips into yours, kissing you deeply.

“I’m sorry, baby,” You mutter one last time, breaking the kiss.

“Y/N,”

“Yes?”

“I forgive you,”

“Okay,”

“But I’m still upset with you. So let me just kiss you, aiight?”

You smile, definitely understanding that statement.

“Aiight.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warnings: Angst, Slight fluff, SoftBoi Erik,

Angst won out because it was the only other option people picked other than both 😂😂😂 #frthoyallsomeniggasforthatXD #isaidoneORtheother #bothwasn’tanoptionsis #howyouchooseanoptionthatain’tanoptionSIS

[nctflirts]

busy; lee donghyuck

a/n- literally nobody asked for this but its a remake of one of my old johnny fics so here,,, this is for u hyuckzens

warnings: just fluff from when I was high

You knew Donghyuck was busy.

You knew that. It was okay that he was busy, he was finally getting to do what he loved with some of his closest friends.

It was okay that you weren’t one of them anymore. And no matter how much it hurt not seeing him, you never brought it up. Not in the midst of his hurried texts.

You weren’t going to be that best friend.

You weren’t going to be the love struck best friend who wanted all of his attention.

Because at the end of the day, you only wanted what was best for him.

But it’s nights like tonight.

Nights like now when you’re lying awake in bed, remembering how his laugh sounds like your favorite song, and how lovely his hugs were.

That’s when it hurts a little. You couldn’t sleep, his voice playing on repeat for hours on end, never taking a break as you replayed every good memory you’d ever had with him.

You don’t know why you were sulking like this. It was stupid. Nothing had happened. He was just busy. And you didn’t need to be awake right now.

So when your phone dinged at 2:13am, you were confused. And even more so to see his name on your screen.

You lay there in the pitch dark, your heart aching and your skin tingling remembering his eyes. Maybe it was fate that he was texting you right now.

Right now, when he’s the reason you can’t sleep.

hey, are you awake? sent 2:13am

What kind of a question was that? There was no logical reason you should be awake right now.

But here you were.

yep! read 2:14am

Was that it? He really texted you this damn early and got your heartbeat up for that? You rolled your eyes. How the HELL did you let yourself get this infatuated? You waited a minute. A minute turned into five, then ten. You looked at your phone again. Nothing. This bitch. Your heart felt more hurt than you thought possible, and for no reason. He couldn’t leave you hanging like this.

did you want something? read 2:26am

Nothing for another 5 minutes. It took everything in you not to heave your phone across the room. You were just about to give up and return to your lovesick slumber when you felt a buzz, and your heart jumped.

hey bab! sorry, i was in practice. couldn’t respond. I’m hungry :( sent 2:32am

This was your chance. THIS WAS YOUR FUCKING CHANCE You willed your hands not to shake as you typed out slowly.

aw, let’s go get something to eat then! read 2:33am

At this ungodly hour. It wasn’t even seconds before he responded.

deadass? BC I’m down 100% sent 2:33am

Yeah, deadass! You jumped out of your bed, so fast and with such energy, you felt lightheaded for a moment. You quickly put on some sweatpants, and one of your hoodies. You knew you probably looked like shit, but at this moment, you just wanted to see him.

walking to McDonalds now. read 2:40am

McDonald’s had been your favorite meetup spot, seeing as it was a 3 minute walk from your apartment and a 10 minute drive from his. You walked briskly down the empty roads, not scared in the least. You didn’t have time to be scared. You were seeing him.

You were genuinely shocked when you find him inside the restaurant already. You give him a questioning glance as you walked in, the AC’s cold air hitting you hard.

also,

He looks like a fucking angel. His sweatpants were hanging off of his hips, his sweater was loose against his body, but still showing off his frame.

You swear he’s somehow gotten taller. It takes every bone in your body not to run to him, but you smile your widest and biggest smile as you approach the male standing in line. For a second, you were unsure if you should hug him or not, even though you wanted nothing more, but to your pleasant surprise, he engulfed you in a bear hug that made you almost completely disappear.

You nuzzled his chest shyly as he rocked back and forth, arms locking you to him. This is the best feeling in the fucking world.

Being with him. He didn’t pull away for a while, instead holding you there, as he looked at the menu.

Finally, you grunted.

"Hyuck. I can't breathe.” You managed, laughing. Your heart felt untouchable right now.

You felt so distinctly safe.

He chuckled as he let you go, but kept his arm around you. And you tried to etch the feelings and the sounds into your heart. The workers behind the counter were waiting impatiently.

At 2:45am, there were only a good 3 customers. One girl coughed, as if to remind you of your surroundings. You felt your cheeks heat up. After you’d both ordered, you walked over to the window, looking outside at the half moon and the clear, midnight sky.

You felt Donghyuck's body heat behind you and see his reflection in the glass and smiled at his comepletely undone hair.

“I missed you.” Finnaly, his voice broke the comfortable silence.

You could have screamed, and you gulped to keep from. Did he miss miss you? Or just…. casually miss you? You gulped.

"I missed you. More.” You turned to look up at him, and his eyes closed as he smiled, grabbing your hands in his and putting them on his face. You were so close to him. Your hands cupping his cheeks, you wanted to kiss him more than anything.

He felt it too. He’d known for the longest time how you felt. You never even had to tell him, because felt the same. He loved you with every bone in his body.

But he was scared when you hadn’t reached out in a while. Terrified you didn’t love him anymore.

He just wanted to kiss you.

Right now. In this cold ass McDonald’s at 3am.

Your faces neared each other involuntarily, almost as an instinct. You felt your heart stop and start at the same time.

"____? Donghyuck?” The woman behind the counter snapped the both of you out of it, motioning to your ready orders on the counter.

This was some movie shit. You blushed as his eyes fluttered open and he smiled.

A soft smile as he walked up to the counter. You followed him as he walked out of the door, not knowing where exactly he was taking you, but you trusted him.

You chuckled when his lanky frame climbed the hood of his car. You followed suit, his strong hands helping you up onto the very top. You smiled contentedly as he handed you your fries.

“Thank you.” You say softly. He hums.

You then begin your talk. You weren’t sure how long you talked, but you were both finished with your meals and he had gotten down to throw the trash away at least twice and you were still talking. You lay flat on the hood, and he watches your face as you scan the starless sky.

"Stunning.” He said, audibly. You eyes snapped open.

"Huh?”

“I said you’re stunning.” He repeated, a crooked smile playing on his lips. Your heart screamed.

“It’s too early for this, Lee Donghyuck.” You brush it off, breaking the gaze you were sharing and looking up at the few stars scattered in the sky.

You felt his gaze on you and you pushed his face away with your hand. “Stop looking at me!” You’d whine.

He laughed a big, hearty laugh, throwing his head back and messing up his hair even more as you tell him to shut up. You couldn’t help but smile at his laugh, locking that in your heart for later, too.

"You know something?” He said thoughtfully. “These last few months have been absolute hell.”

You nod, sighing. He deserves better.

“Like absolute fucking shit.” He continues.

“Practice is that hard?” You sit up, resting on your elbows.

"No.” He says, then backtracks. “I mean, yes. But that’s not why it’s hell. It’s been hell because I haven’t seen you.”

Your cheeks are probably ridiculously red, and you thank the heavens for the bad street lights, hoping he won’t see.

He does.

"You’re one of the most important things in my life, you know? Like, you’ve always been. And you’ll always be my priority.”

You groaned, throwing your head back at the affection, but you actually think you might die.

You sit up fully now, reaching for his hand and brushing his fingers. He’s been working hard, you swore they hadn't been that rough before. You brought his hand to your mouth, kissing the back of it.

“I love you.” He smiles at his lap. He’s gotten shy now. Your heart was beating wildly.

“Let’s not go months without seeing each other again, okay?” He says slowly, looking up at you. You nod, his hand still in yours. You just stare at each other for a moment, your eyes scanning his and vice versa.

Everything in you wanted to tell him he was your world.

Everything in you wanted him. His lips parted slowly, and your eyes momentarily flickered down to them.

Fucking hell, his lips.

He noticed, because he licked them immediately after. You cleared your throat.

“Hyuck?”

“Hm?”

"If I kissed you right now, what would you do?” You ask slowly, and within seconds you feel him kissing you. Your heart came to a complete stop and still managed to beat faster than it ever had before.

The kiss was gentle.

You could still taste the burger on him.

There was no fighting for domination, just two people melting into one with each other. Your hands clung his and his found his way to your neck, and you felt him chuckle.

here you were, at 4am, in a McDonald’s parking lot making out with your best friend.

[companionjones]

The Beaten Girl And The Bisexual

Requested by: @warmbeebosoftbeebo

Request: an idea that's been coming to me off n on for months is the reader being the sister of one of high school brendon's bullies (i'm picturing b between 8-10 grade, prob 9th or 10th). she doesn't like her brother or what he does (maybe he bullies/abuses her too) but does like that sweet, anxious, awkward, talkative, hyper boy that her jerk of a brother keeps picking on inc homophobia n even outright beating, wants to protect him even, wishes she could be friends--maybe more than friends--with him...

i tend to think a lot of girls would have thought 15-17 yo brendon was gay, n also nice, funny, (more than) a bit of a goober, etc--someone they'd want to be friends with if they weren't worried about their own social status. talking about celebrity crushes with him at yr place n his crush on freddie mercury, ryan gosling n/or justin timberlake comes out accidentally. you think "knew it!" but he also crushes on jessica alba, scar jo so y're confused. he is too? knows he's bi? worries or doesn't?

Fandom: Panic! At The Disco

Pairing: Bisexual!Freshman!Brendon Urie x Abused!Junior!Female!Reader

Warnings: Sibling abuse, bullying, physical bullying, cursing

*******

CRASH! The sound of a body hitting a wall of lockers shattered through the air, followed by an uproar of mocking laughter. You flinched, and tried to ignore the group enjoying the incident. You especially steered clear of the senior student behind it all: your brother.

Glancing into the crowd was not something you meant to do, but once you did, you couldn’t help but stop in your tracks.

Brendon Urie wasn’t someone you knew well. He was a little on the hyper side, and he talked a lot whenever he got the chance to. Brendon was also an awkward kid. Well, the sweet kind of awkward, you thought. You didn’t like that your brother had made Brendon his toy as soon as the freshman started at the high school. Maybe that was what made you interfere.

“Jordan!” You, with all the authority you could muster in that moment, called your brother by his name. “Leave him alone!”

It was like that scene in Tangled when the bar-goers were about to beat up Eugene, but then Rapunzel got their attention. Jordan whipped his head around to see you, and smiled a wicked smile that made your stomach turn.

His voice was maniacal. “Hey everybody, look! It’s my little sister, Y/n!” Jordan changed from talking to his buddies to addressing you, “What? Did you come to help this little nobody here?”

“Just leave Brendon alone. He’s never done anything to you.”

Jordan chuckled, “Woah! I didn’t know you two were on a first-name-basis! When did that happen?”

Rolling your eyes, you walked past your brother, and helped Brendon up. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” you offered the younger boy.

As you and Brendon exited the scene, you heard Jordan shout from behind you, “Just remember, sis, we live in the same house. So, I can come after you whenever I want to.”

“I know,” you poignantly responded over your shoulder.

It wasn’t until you were cleaning Brendon’s wounds in one of the boys’ bathrooms that the freshman decided to ask you, “Why did you help me?”

“Because,” you smirked, “you’re a youngin. It’s the upper-classmen’s job to take care of the little ones...not hurt them.” Your once joking tone turned sad for that last part. You walked away from where Brendon was sitting on the line of sinks to get another paper towel and wet it.

He was silent for a moment before asking another question, “What did you mean when you said you knew your brother would be coming after you?”

Then, it was your turn to pause. You decided to drop the inquiry completely. “...You can come to my house after school. Jordan’s always off with his friends until whatever hours of the night...that’s if he comes home at all. You want to come over?”

Brendon appraised you. Of course, he noticed you didn’t answer his question. “...Sure.”

After school, the walk to your house wasn’t far. You and Brendon talked and joked around on the way.

The kid wasn’t half bad, you thought. He talked a lot, but you thought he was cute when he was rambling. Brendon was goofy, too. He was awkward and clumsy, always stumbling around. You couldn’t help but smile, and even sometimes blush, at the way he acted around you.

After spending some time alone with him, you let your mind wander a bit. You stopped yourself quickly, though. You couldn’t put your finger on it. Maybe it was the way he acted? Or the words he used sometimes? But you had a feeling he wasn’t...straight. You thought he was gay.

And you knew Brendon had no clue about that part of himself.

By the time you and him arrived at your house, you both were immersed in a conversation about each other’s celebrity crushes. You were finishing up your own list as the two of you entered through the front door. While setting your stuff down, you realized Brendon was too immersed in his words to actually realize what he was saying.

“Freddie Mercury, Justin Timberlake--”

Startled at the ease that the same-sex names rolled off Brendon’s tongue with, your eyebrows shot up. You knew it!

“--Jessica Alba, and Scarlett Johansson.”

Wait, what? Both guys and girls? You were wrong about him being gay, then.

Almost right after Brendon finished speaking, he blanched. He clearly did not plan on telling you all those names.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay,” you reassured once you saw the confused look on his face, “Just sit down. We’ll talk through this.” You plopped down onto the couch, and waited for Brendon to join you. When he did, you continued, “So, you like boys and girls. That’s okay.”

He was quick to rebut, “No.” Then, he backtracked, “Wait, no. It is okay, it’s just not that...I’m not...” Tears started to appear in his eyes, and you could see the fear and sadness in them.

“Shh, shh. Come here,” you pulled him to you, and Brendon cried as quietly as he could into your shoulder.

Then, someone stomped onto the front porch.

Feeling your heart drop to your stomach, you quickly separated yourself from Brendon. “My bedroom is the last door to the right down the hall. I’ll get our stuff. Go now.”

Brendon looked scared, terrified to leave you behind. However, he knew waiting for you would only cause more trouble. Brendon left.

While moving faster than you could ever remember moving, you gathered Brendon’s and your backpack and books together. Your parents wouldn’t have been home for hours. There was only one person that could’ve been outside, drunkenly fumbling with the keys. It was Jordan.

You took off running.

Sadly, the farthest you could make it was halfway down the hallway. Your brother harshly threw you into a wall, sending everything you were carrying all over the place.

Jordan’s slurred shouts shook the house. “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT SHIT YOU PULLED TODAY?!?!!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sor--” you squeaked back.

He interrupted you, “NO, YOU’RE NOT! YOU LITTLE BITCH! I SHOULD FUCKING KILL--”

“STOP! STOP RIGHT NOW!” you screamed, but it wasn’t really at your brother. You made it seem so, but you were actually warning Brendon. You heard the freshman trying to open your door. You couldn’t let Brendon be another victim to what you were about to go through.

It was both good news and bad news that Jordan didn’t know Brendon was in the house yet. Good news, Brendon wouldn’t get hurt. Bad news, Jordan believed your trick that the words were meant for him. As bruises appeared on your arms, legs, and torso; your lips and tongue were cut up; and your left eye was blackened; you tried to keep your mind on the fact that Brendon had listened to you. He wouldn’t have to be a part of your torture.

Once Jordan felt he was done, he stumbled back out of the house, mumbling about going out with some of his friends. You stayed on the ground for a few moments, trying to calm down your breathing. Apparently, you took longer than you intended.

Silently, Brendon came out of your bedroom. He helped you to your feet, and into the bathroom. Suddenly, the roles from earlier in the day were reversed.

Brendon didn’t talk until he was a few minutes into cleaning your cuts. “Guess I know why you dropped my question from earlier.” His voice held no sarcasm or mockery.

That was probably why you broke down crying.

Brendon held you. Just like you did for him earlier that day, Brendon held you. You felt him duck his head down to your shoulder. The pressure of it made you smile through your tears.

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it! If you would like to read more, I have more fics on Panic! At The Disco over on my page, along with other fics on other fandoms. You should go check it out. Also, REQUESTS ARE OPEN. I take requests for one-shots, multi-chapters, headcannons, and preferences. No smut, please. I write for a variety of fandoms. If you’re wondering if I write for a specific fandom, please ask me. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you.<3

*Extended Ending*

Years went by, and you and Brendon shot up in the world. It seemed you blinked, and suddenly Brendon was one of the biggest singers in most of the world, and you were his wife. It took you both being eighteen to finally move out of your hometown, and get away from your brother. Also, over the years, Brendon got worlds more comfortable with his sexuality, and the both of your love grew.

“Baby, that was amazing,” you congratulated as your husband came off stage.

Brendon was still riding the high of his performance. So, he came right in and kissed you. One of his hands cupped your cheek, and the other snaked its way around your waist. He cut the kiss off with an exaggerated “MUAH! Thank you, my love!”

Smiling and laughing at the singer’s antics, you took your husband in. You couldn’t how far you both had come. You certainly far from being just the beaten girl and the bisexual. You pulled your husband away from the wings of the stage, eager to carry on your long, fulfilling, and exhilarating life with Brendon Urie.

[artificialqueens]

Something Borrowed 8/? (Witney) - Miss Bianca & jazz

Summary: This was going to be Courtney’s first visit to her childhood home in five years, and she’d made a lot of plans. Obviously, none of them had included falling into a whirlwind, summer love affair with her father’s 28-year-old fiancée, just three months before the planned wedding. But sometimes, things just happened.

Miss Bianca’s A/N: okay so I’d like to start by apologizing for the wait and saying that it’s entirely my fault… I failed to process the passage of time for almost two weeks, and essentially abandoned jazz (pls forgive me bb), but I’m back now. And here’s this. As always, feedback is appreciated - you probably know who we are by now.

jazz’s A/N: HELLO I’ve missed you all/this fic/Miss Bianca so very much. It’s about to get v Emo here, but we also get a new side character! All I’m gonna say is trust us, and get ready for chapters 9 & 10 ;)))

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Courtney had almost forgotten how small most cars were on the inside. The Uber she was currently riding in felt cramped, and the sleek, streamlined shapes of the vehicle seemed unimaginably foreign after hours spent riding shotgun in Willam’s Jeep.

She could almost hear Willam cursing at the other cars in her head, ready to lean on the horn or roll down the window to flip someone off at a moment’s notice. A few days ago, the image would’ve probably made her smile. A few days ago, she probably wouldn’t have been taking an Uber at all on her way to meet up with Alaska.

The radio was playing soft jazz, and the driver wasn’t a talker. Courtney couldn’t wait to get out of the car and out of her own head.

In the wake of her argument with Willam, Courtney felt entirely out of sorts, sure of almost nothing.

The only thing Courtney was sure of, though, was that time did not heal all wounds. In fact, with each passing day, Courtney felt herself growing more and more restless and disheartened.

Every time Willam left a room as she entered, every time Willam’s gaze passed through her, Courtney’s stomach turned. The times when Willam did look at her, only to turn away quickly with lips pressed together the moment Courtney noticed, were even worse.

It was becoming increasingly clear to Courtney that none of this would just blow over like she’d hoped, and that Willam wasn’t likely to budge any time soon. Willam had shut her out completely, all of the walls that Courtney had taken down so carefully thrown back up instantly after their fight.

Courtney had started taking every opportunity to get out of the house. She visited the beach by herself a few times, attempting, in vain, to rid herself of the tanlines she’d garnered without being bombarded by images of Willam, naked by the pool. She tried to shop for clothes, but reminders of Willam filled every rack of shoes and dresses, every changing room.

She’d refrained from texting Alaska with her problems for a while, not wanting to relive the fight by relaying it to someone else and hoping to avoid the scrutiny of her best friend’s all-knowing gaze for as long as possible.

But the loneliness and deafening silence in the house had gotten the better of her, and here she was: slamming the door to her Uber and shouldering her way into the coffeeshop Alaska had picked as their meeting place, scanning the space before spotting her friend seated by the window with an espresso.

Alaska looked up from her drink to waggle her fingers at Courtney, her hair swept half-up to sit on top of her head, and Courtney smiled weakly back.  

“I’m gonna order,” Courtney mouthed to Alaska, pointing toward the coffee bar.

She readjusted the tote bag on her shoulder and made her way over to the register, squinting up at the menu on the wall and letting out a heavy sigh.

If Willam were here, she would’ve ordered for Courtney, proud of herself for remembering how many sugars Courtney took in her coffee without even having to ask. Willam always remembered the smallest, most arbitrary things about her, actually: the way she liked her toast in the morning, the songs to skip past on the radio because Courtney had mentioned disliking them.

She remembered the spots where Courtney was most ticklish, both to avoid them when she wanted to soothe her and to poke at them when she was trying to cheer her up.

She remembered all the places that made her toes curl.

“Miss?” the barista prodded kindly, bringing Courtney back to the present.

Courtney shook her head and swallowed, placed her usual order as quickly as she could. The barista’s pity was almost palpable, and Courtney realized that she probably looked a lot more sad and pathetic than she’d previously thought.

“On a scale of one to abandoned puppy on the side of the road in the rain, how pathetic do I look right now?” Courtney asked as she slid into the seat across from Alaska with her drink.

“Well,” Alaska started, eyeing her. “Abandoned puppies are usually at least cute, so probably something worse than that.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“You know I’m kidding, girl,” Alaska chuckled.

“Sorry, I know, just…” Courtney bit her lip, hands wrapped around her steaming cup to ground herself. “Willam hates me, is all.”

“Bullshit, Court.”

“No, I’m serious,” Courtney said. “She hasn’t said a word to me in, like, days. And you’ve met her – she always has something to say.”

“Courtney,” Alaska sighed, setting down her coffee cup and fixing her gaze on Courtney. “Yes, I’ve met her. And my introduction to her came right after she spent nearly a minute literally eyefucking you right in front of me. I’m sure she doesn’t hate you.”

“But she does,” Courtney asserted, staring down at her drink. “Things are different now, Laska.”

“Mmm?”

“I mean, eyefucking is one thing, but…” Courtney chewed on her lower lip. “I don’t just want that anymore. And I think that’s why she hates me.”

When Courtney glanced back over at Alaska, her friend’s eyebrows were raised, gaze scrutinous, and she suddenly felt the need to backtrack.

“No, I mean, I do want that, but I also can’t help but see her as, I don’t know,” Courtney paused, remembering how Willam had smiled proudly after getting her coffee order right. “See her as a girlfriend, or something. I just get caught up in, in her, and forget that she’s marrying my dad and…”

And not me, she wanted to say. She squeezed her eyes shut, suppressing the tears threatening to spill out. Talking about it was just as bad as she’d thought it would be, and sitting here, at a quaint table for two, wasn’t helping her cause at all.

Coffee shops were ruined for her now, Courtney realized. They triggered a whole slew of memories of when she and Willam would stop for coffees after a shopping trip, the caffeine sometimes necessary to wake them back up after fucking in the backseat or in a changing room.

It was during those stops when Courtney had felt most like they were a couple. A real life, normal couple – free to go on dates, to hold hands in public, to steal kisses in between sips of coffee. Free to plan their wedding together, with guest lists of only their friends, a menu that didn’t have to be elegant or expensive, and flowers in every color instead of in the simple pink and white theme that Dave and the wedding planner had decided on.

“So, how long have you known, then?” Alaska asked, her voice even and low.

Courtney scrunched her forehead, confused.

Alaska sighed heavily, and rolled her eyes.

“That you love her,” Alaska clarified. “How long have you known that you love her?”

It took a moment before Courtney could process what Alaska had said. She opened her mouth, intent on denying her friend’s words, but found her throat tight, her pulse quickening.

She thought back to all the mornings that she’d woken up to Willam sitting beside her, and the way Willam’s face would light up as soon as she opened her eyes.

And then there was the time when Willam had fallen asleep on the couch with her head in Courtney’s lap after an amusingly in-depth conversation about human anatomy, nose pressed into her tummy so her exhales tickled just a little bit. Her hair had been so unexpectedly soft and bouncy under Courtney’s hands, and Courtney had stayed there for hours, not wanting to move a muscle and risk waking Willam up.

She remembered the way her heart had leapt in her chest as she kissed Willam over the console at a red light, tasting bubblegum, feeling Willam smile against her lips instead of pulling away as the light turned green and people behind them honked their car horns impatiently.

Courtney was an honest person, and that was something she prided herself on. So she couldn’t, in good conscience, try to tell Alaska that she wasn’t head over heels in love with Willam Belli.

“So, I take it you didn’t know,” Alaska said dryly. “Until now, I mean.”

“Oh my god,” Courtney murmured.

“You’re so dense,” Alaska commented.

“I knew I shouldn’t have ever slept with her in the first place,” Courtney said, swallowing.

“Probably not.”

“She’s marrying my dad.”

“Yeah.”

“And she hates me.” Courtney rested her head in her hands, felt the gravity of the situation crashing over her.  

“Maybe she wouldn’t if you’d actually tell her how you feel,” Alaska suggested.

“She said that love doesn’t matter,” Courtney said, shaking her head. “I basically asked her to leave with me, like an idiot, and she laughed in my face.”

“She probably freaked out.”

“I’m freaking out,” Courtney said.

“Oh, really?” Alaska asked sarcastically. “I couldn’t tell.”

“Seriously, Alaska. What if she actually goes throughwith it? I can’t…” Courtney trailed off. “I don’t know that I can be there for that.”

“Well, the wedding’s only like a week away,” Alaska pointed out. “She’s probably gonna go through with it.”

“You’re no help,” Courtney whined, averting her eyes to look out the window. It was a nice day outside, sunny and cloudless, and Courtney couldn’t even attempt to enjoy it.

Right now, she loathed Alaska’s pragmatism, how she could be so level-headed when the circumstances clearly called for a more emotional reaction. More than that, though, Courtney wished she could deny the truth to Alaska’s words.

Her situation was hopeless.

Alaska softened at that, reaching across the table to give Courtney’s wrist a squeeze.

“You should tell her,” Alaska repeated. “I think you’ll regret it if you don’t try.”

“You’re probably right,” Courtney admitted, “but I don’t know the next time I’ll even get a minute alone with her. Besides the fact that she’s avoiding me, there’s all the wedding prep, and Farrah gets in in a couple days, and –”

“Oh, god, I forgot about Farrah.”

Courtney gave a single grim nod. “Dave made her a bridesmaid,” she said.

“Love that,” Alaska sneered.

“I mean, I’ve only met her once, and that was years ago,” Courtney pointed out. “Assuming she didn’t inherit most of our dad’s worst traits, she could be alright.”

“Probably not.”

“She was a nightmare of a suck up last time, though,” Courtney said. “So yeah, probably not.”

Alaska raised her coffee cup to that, and Courtney clinked their mugs together before taking a long sip, practically burning her tongue in the process.

—–

Over the course of the next few days, Courtney’s belief that Willam hated her was cemented even further.  

Every encounter with Willam resulted in radio silence. Somehow, the dull, expected ache now caused by her coldness was more painful than the sharper sting that had hit Courtney like a slap in the face every time Willam pointedly ignored her in the day or so after their argument.  

Watching and overhearing her interactions with Dave only upset Courtney more. The little fight that Willam had had left in her before was waning rapidly, her voice going soft again as she shied away from his shouting, head down and arms wrapped around her body.

Courtney wanted nothing more than to stand up for her, but Willam’s cold shoulder made it clear that she wanted to go it alone. Or, at least, that she didn’t want Courtney’s help or consolation.

Instead, Courtney busied herself with preparing the guest bedroom for Farrah, thinking about how much more fun it would’ve been if Willam had been doing it with her.

They would’ve put Willam’s shoes in her closet, just to see how she’d react. They would’ve fucked on the bed that would be hers and then, if Farrah turned out to be annoying, they’d be able to smile satisfiedly at each other, another secret that was just theirs to keep.

It wasn’t that Courtney had anything against Farrah. The product of one of her father’s early affairs, Farrah was the younger half-sister she’d never really asked for or wanted. Still, she seemed sweet enough for a 17-year-old �� maybe a little too sweet, if you asked Courtney.

It was fine, Courtney reasoned. She could babysit if she had to in the days leading up to the wedding – at least it would give her something to do. She shivered, continued to fluff up a pillow she’d been aggressively fluffing for minutes now.

Courtney couldn’t stand being unable to talk to Willam about Farrah – about all of it, really. Willam was the person she wanted to vent to, to gossip with, and having to distance herself was harder than she ever could’ve imagined.

Sometimes, Courtney suspected it was just as difficult for Willam, swearing that she could hear phantom footsteps stop right in front of her bedroom door at night, only to pad away after thinking better of entering.

Those moments were the only indication Courtney had to suggest that Willam wasn’t just going through the motions at this point.

Courtney could barely stomach this hollow shell of a Willam that seemed to sleepwalk around the mansion during the day, all vacant stares and sealed lips, forgoing her usual activities to slip an extra shot or two of liquor into her mid-afternoon Diet Coke.

Courtney noticed, even though she wasn’t supposed to.

And despite her best efforts not to, she couldn’t help imagining what things would be like after she left, with Willam all by herself except for an empty house and a husband who didn’t really care about her.

If the life was gone from her eyes now, then what would she become in five years? Ten?

What would happen when Dave replaced her like the trophy wife she was to him, as soon as she was all used up, no longer young and pretty enough to suit his needs anymore?

Courtney looked down at her hands, realized suddenly that she’d nearly beaten the pillow she’d been working on to a pulp. She dropped it and ran her fingers through her hair, taking a deep breath in through her nose.

Sinking down onto the bed, she stared at the blank wall opposite her, wringing her hands in her lap.

The whole house felt like a trap at this point, as big as it was, and Courtney was utterly exhausted from the constant ache of missing Willam. It was like living with her fight or flight response constantly active, her nerves shot from being so on edge, and she wanted to get out as quickly as she could.

But as she took a moment to think about Willam’s future as well as her own, she wasn’t sure she could handle the thought of leaving her here on her own. For the first time, she began to consider the possibility of apologizing to Willam and trying to return them to where they’d been before. Maybe she could survive not being anything more than an affair to Willam, if it kept Willam from being miserable. Maybe, with a little more time, Willam would change her mind.

Or maybe, their luck would run out and they’d get caught, and Willam would resent her for the rest of their lives.

Courtney grabbed the pillow next to her in frustration and hurled it across the room, startled when the sounding of the doorbell immediately followed.

She rose from the bed and trudged downstairs, entirely unprepared for the enthusiastic hug that met her as she swung open the front door.

“Oh my god, Courtney!” Farrah squealed in her ear.

As her brain caught up with what was going on, Courtney smelled hairspray and cheap perfume, feeling almost dizzy as the combination went to her head. Before she could even try to reciprocate the hug, Farrah was releasing her and stepping back, holding her at arm’s length.

Courtney grimaced at the wide smile frozen on Farrah’s face, wanting to move away but held captive by her surprisingly strong grip.

“You don’t look too good, honey,” Farrah said, her lower lip poking out slightly in a false pout. “Do you want another hug?”

“No, I’m –”

Ignoring her protests, Farrah pulled her in again, squeezing her and rocking them from side to side.

“You need to take care of yourself,” Farrah tsked, her eyelashes fluttering as she looked at Courtney, one thumb rubbing over the dark circles under her eyes. “You know why they call it beauty sleep, right?”

“Uh… no?”

“Because it’s only us beautiful girls who need it!”

“I don’t think that’s why,” Courtney tried, but Farrah shook her head.

“Of course it is,” she said, pushing past Courtney and walking into the foyer. “Now, where’s Dad? And the lucky gold digger?”

“Did somebody say gold digger?” Willam’s voice filtered down the stairs, and Courtney glanced up to see her on the landing, resting her arms on the railing.

Willam had her head cocked to the side, and Courtney could practically feel the attitude radiating from her even a whole floor away. Courtney hadn’t seen Willam like this in what felt like weeks, and she was suddenly grateful for Farrah’s arrival.

“Ooh, hi!” Farrah exclaimed. “Are you Willam?”

“Well, unless you planned on calling me Mom,” Willam snarked, walking down the stairs. “But I’m too young and hot for that, so.”

“I guess we all have that in common!” Farrah chirped.

Willam reached the bottom of the steps, and Farrah shuffled over, clearly with the intention of trapping her in one of her hugs. Dodging the hug expertly and shooing Farrah away, Willam leaned against the banister. Courtney grinned.

“I have a mom anyways,” Farrah said with a forced giggle, clearly trying to recover from Willam’s rejection. “She’s not that much older than you, actually.”

“Ooh, I doubt that.”

“I mean, a bit older, I guess,” Farrah shrugged. “I think I must’ve gotten the pretty from Dad��s side of the family, though. Mom was cute enough to catch him, but not enough to reel him in.”

“Because she got herself knocked up,” Willam replied.

“Mm, you think so?” Farrah seemed genuinely curious, and Courtney couldn’t believe how easy she was making it for Willam to read her.

“Pregnancy ain’t cute,” Willam said. “And it fucks with your body, too. That baby bump never goes away completely, and once you got it, the mens move on to flatter stomachs and perkier tits.”

As she spoke, Willam tugged at her dress, pulling it down ever so slightly to reveal more of her cleavage.

Farrah faltered for a second. “Oh, you’re funny,” she said, before turning to Courtney. “She’s a funny one, isn’t she?”

“Not usually the word women use to describe me, but I’ll take it,” Willam said, smirking.

Courtney swallowed hard. There were plenty of other words that came to her mind, none of which she could say aloud.

“I’m just so excited to finally be here with you guys,” Farrah continued, clasping her hands together by her chest. “We’re gonna have so much fun.”

“Wow, you’re the real deal, ain’t you?” Willam smiled amusedly as she looked at Farrah. “I had to act extra dumb and blonde to get the ring, but you wouldn’t even have to put in any extra effort.”

Farrah stared at her for a moment, and then shrugged and laughed.

Glancing over Farrah’s shoulder, Willam caught Courtney’s eye, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she saw how hard Courtney was trying to suppress her own giggles.

When Courtney blinked, the moment was gone – but a small smile remained on Willam’s lips, and Courtney could feel her pulse speed up in response, butterflies swarming in her stomach briefly as she recognized the Willam she’d met at the start of the summer, the one she’d hated on sight and then quickly learned to love.  

—–

Courtney’s ideal afternoon wouldn’t have been spent getting poked and prodded, measured and sized – and it definitely wouldn’t have entailed being stuck in a room with Farrah, listening to her half-sister chatter endlessly about nothing in particular.

Courtney knew that she herself could be talkative at times, but it seemed that she had absolutely nothing on Farrah. In the day and a half that they’d spent together, Courtney had learned virtually all of her interests, as well as her whole life story, which wasn’t entirely uninteresting. Being born to a Las Vegas showgirl and raised by her and her coworkers, as it turned out, was an unconventional and exciting life.

However, despite all of that, Farrah had managed to turn out shallow, dense, and ditzy enough that Courtney was convinced she would set feminism back at least ten years in her lifetime.

“Are we almost done here, do you think?” Courtney said, struggling to keep her tone pleasant as she looked down at the seamstress currently toying with the hemline of her bridesmaid’s dress. She understood that last-minute alterations were necessary, but the amount of time they were taking seemed excessive.

The seamstress shot her a look in the full-length mirror propped against the wall in the guest bedroom, and Courtney sighed.

“Have you seen Willam’s dress yet?” Farrah asked off to her left.

“I was with her when she picked it out,” Courtney said wistfully, remembering the two of them pouring through wedding planning magazines at the bar until Willam had found the perfect dress.  

“I haven’t seen it either,” Farrah continued, ignoring Courtney’s response. “Oh my god, I bet she looks so pretty, we have to go see when we’re done. I heard it has diamonds on it.”

“It doesn’t have diamonds on it,” Courtney replied dryly.

“It must’ve been so expensive,” Farrah gushed. “Can you imagine, wearing a dress like that? This whole wedding is just, ugh, goals.”

“I guess,” Courtney sighed.

Farrah frowned. “What, you don’t think so?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” Courtney said after a moment. “I’m not the one getting married.”

“Aw, Courtney,” Farrah cooed. “It’s okay, you’ll find the perfect man someday. And it shouldn’t take too long, with how cute you are!”

Courtney stared at her own reflection in the mirror, blinking. It was truly stunning how completely Farrah had managed to miss the mark. She almost wanted to laugh.

“Thanks, Farrah,” she said finally.

There were a few moments of silence, and Courtney watched the seamstress working at the bottom of Farrah’s dress, trying to figure out what was taking her so long.

“So what’s the deal with you and Willam, anyway?” Farrah spoke up again.

Courtney’s stomach dropped, and she watched the color drain from her own face. Had she said something? Was the tension between them really still that obvious?

“Like, do you guys get along?” Farrah continued. “Do you think she’s a good fit for Dad?”

“Oh,” Courtney sighed, relieved. “Yeah, we… get along fine.”

“Huh, it doesn’t seem like it,” Farrah said. “You guys, like, never talk. Or look at each other, or anything.”

Courtney wanted to roll her eyes all the way into the back of her head. She didn’t owe Farrah an explanation, and she knew that – but it wasn’t as if Farrah would pick on up any subtext, and so Courtney figured there was no harm in giving her something.

“It’s just complicated,” Courtney said, choosing her words carefully. “I don’t think Dad is a good fit for her, actually. He’s not the nicest guy in the world, Farrah.”

Farrah looked at the ground, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I know,” she said finally, her tone surprisingly serious. “I’ve always known that.”

She glanced up, and Courtney met her gaze in the mirror, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

“It’s not just your mom he screwed over, Courtney,” Farrah said. “My mom got pregnant with me by accident, and then brought me up herself with no support from him at all till I was like, ten, and she doesn’t make that much money. And she sent him letters, too, like, every month, trying to remind him that I even existed.”

Courtney shook her head.

“I blamed you and your mom for my parents’ problems for a long time,” Courtney admitted. “You know, you were the evidence my mom needed to finally leave him, and I didn’t want to leave LA then.”

“I get it,” Farrah said, nodding. “I was jealous of you for most of my whole life. I wanted to be you, because I thought you had the perfect life, with a dad who loved you and stuff.”

“Dad’s never loved anyone,” Courtney murmured.  

“Really?”

“He never loved me, not really,” Courtney said. “Or my mom. And he’s not marrying Willam because he loves her, either.”

“Well, that’s sad,” Farrah pouted.

“I think she’s gonna end up hurt,” Courtney added quietly, closing her eyes momentarily. “And I don’t want that to happen, because I… I care about her, a lot. More than I probably should.”

Farrah looked over at her, as if she had more to say, but was interrupted by the seamstress getting to her feet with a smile.

“Alright, girls, we’re all done here!”

Courtney was thankful for the out, her pulse pounding in her ears as she hastily slid out of the gown and back into regular clothes before she said too much. She felt short of breath, suddenly desperate for a minute alone to collect herself and her thoughts.

She scurried out into the hallway, ignoring Farrah’s request to wait for her. Her intentions to retreat to her bedroom were derailed almost immediately, though, as she heard Willam’s voice coming from inside the master bedroom.

“You poked me, bitch, ow.”

Courtney felt herself gravitate toward the half-open door without thinking, stopping just beyond the threshold of the bedroom to look inside.

As she caught sight of Willam, everything stopped for a moment. She would’ve gasped, but it was as if she’d forgotten how, completely enamored by Willam’s silhouette in the mermaid cut gown, the sweetheart neckline that perfectly complemented the beading on the bodice. Her profile was striking as she looked downwards, lips parted and hair piled messily atop her head, arms lifted slightly away from her body as if touching the dress might damage it somehow.

She was the most beautiful woman that Courtney had ever seen.

The seamstress took a step back, as if to admire her handwork, drawing a circle in the air with her finger. Willam spun, the skirt flaring out below her knees, and her face opened up as she smiled, wide and genuine, a delighted laugh bubbling up in her chest. Courtney watched with her heart in her throat, unable to shake the feeling that the smile, the laughter, was meant for her.  

Farrah seemed to approve of the gown, too, appearing abruptly behind Courtney to express her praise.

“Oh my god,” Farrah squealed. “It’s perfect!”

Willam’s head lifted quickly in surprise. Her gaze passed right over Farrah, not even acknowledging her, settling on Courtney instead.

Courtney knew that her expression was probably as easy to read as an open book, and she didn’t care in the slightest. If anything, she hoped that Willam could feel the weight of her emotion, how much she cared, and wanted, and loved.

They stood there, eyes locked, for what felt like minutes, before Willam looked away, twisting her hands together in front of her.

The dismissal stung, but Courtney was still reluctant to give up. She was sure, now, that she couldn’t go back to the way things were before.

Even if there was no happy ending, Willam needed to know how she felt. Or else, Courtney thought that her chest might burst from keeping all of it inside.

[buckyscrystalqueen]

The First Mistress: Part 3

Pairings: Negan x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 5,903

Part 1 / Part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Michael, stop jumping on that seat.” You could feel the entire car rocking and your child’s peels of laughter were probably audible for at least a mile. You thanked God you were in a garage and not on the side of the road as you quickly tried to start the hunk of junk you were in.

“No!” You glanced up at him from where you were crammed under the steering wheel. He had a giant smile on his face as he held the head rest to keep him steady.

“Michael! Knock it off!” You wanted to reach out to grab him but getting this car started was slightly more important at that moment.

“No, mama!”

“I’m gunna count to three and then I’m strapping your ass into the chair.” You snapped as you finally got the two wires you needed stripped. “One.” You hit the wires together, flinching at the spark that hit the knuckle of your thumb as the car continued to rock. “TWO!” You hit the wires together again and the car roared to life with a squeal. You let out a sigh of relief as you pulled yourself up with the steering wheel. The gauge on the dash told you you had over 3/4 of a tank of gas; making this the biggest score you had ever found. The house in the woods had been essentially been untouched and was full of groceries and medications. Now, with a full tank of gas, you were going to be golden for a while. You glanced over at your boy, who was watching you with his father’s daring smirk as he continued to jump.

“Three.” You got in the car and grabbed your son, who immediately began pitchin’ a fit. You flopped him down in the front seat and yanked the seatbelt over his lap. You locked it in place as he hit you in the face with his tiny fists, his sharp, little thumb nails catching your skin perfectly to leave shallow cuts across your eye and cheek. You had to wonder where this sudden rage had come from because he had never been like this before.

“I warned you, you little butt.” You said as you tucked the top strap behind his back so he wouldn’t get choked. With a satisfied huff, you rolled down the driver’s side window so you wouldn’t get locked out of the car. You grabbed a two by four off the ground and headed back to the garage door. You hesitated for a moment to see if there were any walkers outside before pulling open the garage door and propping it open. You quickly ran back to the car, jumped in and pulled out of the garage, knowing full well that your screaming, currently bratty child was going to draw the attention of any of the walkers around you.

“Here, eat this and hush.” You said as you reached back into the back seat and grabbed a chocolate bar from one of the bags. You ripped it open, broke off a piece and handed it to your son. “See if that will shut you up.” Michael took the offered treat he had never really gotten to experience. He put the candy bar in his mouth and his fussing instantly stopped.

“That yummy?” You asked with a glance over at him as he devoured the most likely stale chocolate. He nodded his head with a hum as you picked up the map from the dash. “Yea, kid. I know it is. You’re lucky I love you. Not even daddy could get chocolate from mommy.”

“Dada.” You nodded as you glanced at the map you were holding on the steering wheel and turned down a side street that hopefully led back to the hotel.

“Yea, dada. A long, long time ago, he used to bring mommy chocolate all the time but no matter how much he tried, I wouldn’t give him any of the good stuff.” You glanced over at your boy, who had his hands out for more chocolate. “He got all the coconut ones.” You said as you broke off another small piece and put it in his hands. “And I would let him have some of the caramel ones, too even though I really liked those ones.” Michael hummed as he sucked on the candy in his hand and kicked his dirty legs on the seat. You knew he didn’t understand what you were saying but talking to him was better than staying silent. You pulled down another road, backtracking a bit and broke off a piece of chocolate for yourself.

“Your daddy is a good man, baby boy. Little angry right now, but he’s a good man.” You smiled as you glanced over at your son once more. “He loves you, baby boy. And he will do anything for you.” Your son’s response was simply reaching for more chocolate. The trip back to the motel took a little under an hour and you pulled into the parking lot just as Negan walked out of the room you were supposed to be in. He looked beyond livid for only a moment before he saw you.

“Where the fuck did you fucking go?” He shouted as you pulled in next to one of the trucks.

“Long fucking story. Come get your son, he’s driving me crazy.” Negan headed over to you and paused as he got a look at the side of your face. “Yea, Michael has entered into some sort of fucking combative stage. Probably from rough housing with you.”

“Well boys will be fucking boys.” You bobbed your eyebrows as you popped the hood of the car to cut off the battery.

“I found food and this thing has three quarters of a tank. And I also found another community.”

“You what?” You glanced over at your husband as he looked at you over the top of the car but you couldn’t read the look on his face.

“‘bout 5 miles that way…” He put his hand up to stop you.

“Dwight, come fucking get this shit out of my wife’s car and the shit in the room and load it the fuck up. Siphon the fucking gas, too. Simon…” He called his second in command over with his finger before doing the same to you. You sighed and headed around the car as Negan picked up his son from the front seat. “Will you fuckin’ look at you. Someone needs a fucking bath.” He told Arat to grab him a towel from the room as he walked a little ways away from the car and the group. “Alright, the fuck can you remember about it, baby girl?”

“Well first of all, the dude thinks he’s a king and he has a fucking tiger.” You watched both men’s eyebrows fly to their hair line and you nodded. “Yea, a mother fucking tiger. Scared the shit out of Michael and I. But I think they know who you are. The second I mentioned that I was your wife, the people that sat on ‘the court’ started acting funny. They would stare when Michael and I walked past and whisper behind out backs.

I stayed one night before I ran. As I was leaving, someone said to let me go because I was yours. Took me a couple days but I found a house that was decently stocked, and headed straight back here.” Negan nodded and glanced over at Simon while he wiped the chocolate off his son’s hands and face.

“Load ‘em up.” He said as he turned back to Michael. He looked back at you as Simon told the men to get ready to move out. “We’ll see about this…”

“Negan, they helped me…”

“And I fucking told you to fucking wait here no matter fucking what!” He shouted back as he picked up his son. “So get your fucking ass in the fucking truck so you can tell us how to fucking get there. Then, you’re gunna fucking stay in the Goddamn truck!” Tears welled in your eyes as you nearly ripped your now crying son out of his arms.

“I’m right fucking here.” You said where only he could hear you. You searched his hardened eyes as tears fell down your cheeks. You held your son’s face in your shoulder to muffle his cries and took a step closer. “I get that you’re mad but I didn’t put up with your yelling back then and I still won’t now. Treat me with some fucking respect or go back to your other fucking wives and say good bye to your kids.” His eyes narrowed as he took a step closer to you. He carefully swung Lucille right by your side and propped it on his shoulder but you refused to let the silent threat phase you.

“Sweetheart, I would fucking love to see you try.” You took another step closer, swallowing hard against your nerves.

“Don’t fucking try me, Negan. I am not Lucille, you understand me? I will not have my babies raised in a fucking anger based family. I fucking love you and I don’t want to take them away from you… but I will not go through this fucking shit again. You take your fucking anger out on other people, not on your Goddamn family. We clear?” He glared at you as his gloved fist tightened around the handle of his bat. You knew he was pissed but you also knew that you were the only person in the world that could stand up to him… at least you were before.

“Get in the fucking truck.” He growled lowly as he lowered the bat. “We’ll fucking discuss later.” You nodded and quickly scrubbed the tears off your cheeks. You turned on your heel and started soothing your son as you headed toward the truck Simon was in. You passed your son up to him so you could climb in with Negan right behind you. As you sat down and took Michael back, Negan passed you his jacket to calm your son down. You gave him half a nod as the two of you covered the boy with the jacket.

‘On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair. Warm smell of colitis, rising up through the air…’

You saw Negan glance over at you out of the corner of your eye as you sang softly to your son. You forced yourself not to look over as you pointed to the left at a restaurant and kept singing. After a right hand turn, you felt Negan’s arm fall softly on your shoulders. He pulled you into his side and gently kissed the top of your head.

“Sorry, baby girl.” He whispered as softly as he could. You nodded as you dropped one hand to his thigh. You looked over at him as you kept singing, soothing your son into a much needed nap. With a small nod, you pat his thigh and gave Simon one last direction.

“Take this instead.” Negan said as he pulled off his scarf. He helped you switch out the scarf for his jacket as the crew pulled up at the gate of the Kingdom. “You stay in the truck, hear me?”

“Be easy. They did us no harm.” You barely saw the dip of his head as he got out of the truck and waltz up to the opening gates. King Ezekiel and a few members of his court stepped out of the gate (without the tiger) to talk with Negan. You couldn’t hear the conversation through the closed truck windows and doors but you couldn’t miss the looks and gestures Negan and Ezekiel made about you.

After about twenty minutes, and a few silent, threatening swings of the bat in front of peoples faces later, the Saviors began loading up back in their trucks. Simon and Ezekiel shook hands; solidifying whatever deal Negan had just made as your husband headed back to the truck.

“Happy? I was fucking nice.” Negan said as he climbed into the truck next to you. You gave him a sweet smile and nodded as Ezekiel headed back into the Kingdom and Simon got in on your other side.

“Thank you, baby.” He rolled his eyes as he peeked under his scarf at his sleeping child.

“Don’t get fucking used to it.”

——

“So the door was still intact, so we’re just fuckin’ reusing it. Still no handle.” You nodded as Negan unlocked the playroom door and pulled it open by the key like usual. “But now, we have this.” You stepped into the room and set Michael down to play as he closed and locked the door behind you. “Ripped it off a fucking store.” You looked up as he pulled a roll cage down to the floor. He pulled four padlocks out of his jacket pocket and held them in his hand.

“You’ll have the only fucking keys. Window has two, as well.” He looked over at you and shook his head. “Shit goes fucking south, this is where you fucking go.” He unlocked the pad locks and showed you were they go. “No one fucking else in this room but you and our kids. You don’t open this Goddamn door until I get back here.” You watched as he locked the two locks at the bottom to eyed screws that had been screwed into the floor.

“We’re fuckin' looking for another lockable cabinet to stock with food and water. You’ll be fucking safe in here.” You nodded as he grabbed the handle in the middle of the gate and pulled on it, showing you it was secure. “I don’t want my fucking family out in that fucking hell hole of a fucking world again.” You shook your head and crouched down next to him.

“Hey, we figured this out. Day runs, we go with you and ‘stay in the fucking truck’.” He looked over at you with a deadpan expression at your mocking tone but you continued on before he could interrupt. “You go on longer runs, we stay here. We don’t go outside, stay locked in here during the day and the room at night. Problem arrises, we end up in here in total lock down. We stay in lock down until you come home.”

“Why you gotta be suck a fucking pain in my Goddamn ass, baby girl?” You shrugged as he unlocked the padlocks and raised the gate.

“Negan, I have been a pain in your ass for almost five years. I can’t just stop now that the world went to shit.” He rolled his eyes as he hung the two locks for the door on the roll cage, handed you all the keys before heading over to the window to hang those locks up as well.

“One of these fucking days baby girl, you’re gunna be the fucking death of me.” You smirked and nodded as he grabbed a movie from the cabinet and headed over to the TV.

“And you’ll still love me as a walker, too.”

~~~~~~7 months later~~~~~~~

“Alright. Mama’s officially overriding the ‘family attends day runs’ idea.” You groaned from the full size mattress in the trunk of a fancy Chevy Infiniti FX35. “This is getting ridiculous.”

“Yea well at first it was to fucking keep you safe, now it so I don’t fucking miss this birth, too.” Negan said as he ran his fingers through your hair from the seat in front of you. “So now it’s fuckin’ up to you. Deliver the fucking kid soon, then you won’t have to fucking travel.” You flipped him off as Simon chuckled from the drivers seat.

“This is cruel and unusual punishment and I’m an angel that deserves neither.” Your husband barked a laugh as he looked over the seat back.

“You’re a fucking monster, don’t try to lie.” You glared up at him and eventually stuck your tongue out.

“I hate you.” You mumbled as you wiggled on the mattress a bit more and curled yourself around Michael to take a nap. Like usual in the late stages of your second pregnancy, you didn’t remember falling asleep but a gentle tapping on your nose woke you up.

“Mama bad man.” Michael whispered softly as soundless tears rolled down his cheeks. Your brow furrowed as you tried to figure out what he was talking about. You looked up at Negan, who wasn’t there and your heart stopped. Your eyes flew back to Michael and you signaled for him to be quiet.

“Carl, where are you?” Someone growled over a radio in the front seat. You quickly reached up to find one of the two hand guns from under the seat in front of you.

“I’m back, dad, get the gate. You will never believe what I found!” Your fingers wrapped around the grip of one of the guns as the sound of a metal gate opening sent shivers up your spine. You hated yourself right now for sleeping so deeply on a run where you should have been alert at all times. Your heart hammered in your chest as you held your son as close to your body as your daughter growing in your stomach would allow. You felt the car come to a stop and you looked back down at your two year old as Carl got out of the car.

“If anyone tries to take you from mommy, you fight hard. You kick, scratch, and bite and you don’t stop.” He nodded as you pulled yourself into a seated position in the trunk. You cocked your gun as the sounds of voices got louder and headed toward the back of the truck. Michael scooted over and curled into your side.

“…he just left it, keys and all. I had to take it. It’s got a push button start!” Carl said.

“Rick, this is bad. This is very, very bad.” A woman said as the small group stopped right outside the trunk. You took a deep, studying breath as your stomach clenched painfully.

“Don’t you think I know that?!” The man from the walkie, who had to have been Rick snapped as he started to open the back hatch. You raised your gun and forced yourself to smirk as the three people in front of you froze.

“Yea, Rick… you really fucked up this time.” You watched the color drain behind the short, silver beard on his face as a younger boy with a gauze bandage over his eye, who had to have been Carl, slowly backed away. “You’re supposed to be finding supplies, not kidnapping Negan’s pregnant wife and son.” You tilted your head to the side, mockingly, forcing yourself to remain confident despite the fact that you were terrified.

“H-he didn’t mean it.” Rick stammered as he raised his hands in surrender and backed away from the trunk of the vehicle.

“Do you think I care?” You snapped back. “You’re putting me through unnecessary stress and depriving my son of his father.” You chuckled a dark laugh you picked up from your husband. “Your best bet right now is to just kill yourself. Because when he gets his hands on you now… Ooohoo! Is it gunna be a fucking blood bath.” You gestured to Carl with your gun.

“Give me the keys and your radio. NOW!” Carl scrambled to grab the keys from his pocket and tossed them onto the bed at your feet as Rick handed you his radio. “Close the door and back away. We’ll just wait for Negan.” The woman with dreads, whose name you didn’t catch, tried to protest as Rick shut the trunk. You quickly locked yourself in the truck and set the alarm as you flicked on the radio. You spun the dial to one of the channels you knew one of the satellite stations used and prayed you were close enough.

“Omega, Omega, Alpha Queen down. Switching to Beta channel.”

“Mommy?” Michael said softly as you set the gun down and turned the dial.

“Hold on, baby. I’m trying to find daddy.”

“Go ahead, Alpha Queen.” You turned down the volume of the radio and glanced out the car window as a cramp rolled through your stomach.

“I need a relay to Alpha. Send him to Gamma, code fire.” You didn’t wait for a response before turning the dial to the final radio channel. You leaned forward and looked around to give Negan some sort of description of where you were as the radio crackled in your hand.

“Alpha Queen, you read?” You smirked at your husband’s voice and nodded.

“Yea baby, you got me. Apparently, SOMEONE left the keys in the cup holder of the truck and a little pirate boy decided to go joy riding.” You took your finger off the button to let Negan talk as Michael scrambled to his feet next to you.

“Hi daddy!” He shouted into the radio in your hand. You smiled and held the button down again.

“Say it again.” You told your son as you held the radio a little closer. He smiled to himself as he held onto your knee for balance.

“Hi daddy!” You let go of the button and put your hand on his back as the radio crackled again.

“Hi buddy. Where are you, baby girl?” You glanced out the window and pulled the radio more towards you.

“Some kinda neighborhood looking place. All I can see is metal walls being held up with wood planks.” You let go of the button and waited, knowing that Negan was most likely rallying the crew and screaming about the situation. You felt a second cramp roll through your stomach, slightly stronger than the first and you sat up a bit straighter. “Negan… you need to hurry.”

“I’m coming, sweetheart, hang on. Stay on this fucking channel. If you need me and can’t fucking get me here, go to Gamma. And stay in the fucking truck!”

“We’re locked in. Just hurry, it’s happening.”

“…faster than this! Copy that, baby girl. Just hold on.” You heard the radio crackle for a moment before going silent as Negan switched to another channel. You sighed and set the radio on the bed next to you.

“Looks like we gotta just wait, buddy.” You leaned back against the seat and glanced over at your son as he walked over and grabbed his water cup.

“Ma’am?” You glanced up at Rick as he peeked into the slightly tinted back window with his hands raised. You slowly grabbed your gun as a contraction rolled through your stomach. “It’s really hot out and I don’t want you two overheating in the car. Can I please, at least, turn it on for you? I’ll lock it right back up.” You shook your head at him.

“No need.” He nodded against the glass as he mentally scrambled for a way to fix this.

“Can I at least bring you both some water or something?”

“You can get the fuck away from my car is what you can do. We have what we need in here.” You watched him slowly back up as his head bobbed up and down.

“OK. You got it.”

“You still with me, baby girl?” You nodded as you picked up the radio with your eyes still on Rick.

“Still here.”

“We’re an hour out. Hold on.” You nodded more to yourself.

“You’re fighting the clock with Miss Kate so I suggest you make it a little faster than an hour.” You looked over at Michael and sighed. “Baby, mommy needs you to go push the car button and turn on the air.” He looked over at you with a giggle and nodded.

“OK, mommy! Can I drive fast, too?” You sighed and wiped away the sweat forming on your forehead.

“Not today, baby.” He nodded as he climbed over the back seat and headed to the front. You watched him closely as he turned on the car on and told him how to turn on the air full blast. After he turned on the air, he climbed back to the mattress in the back.

“Why did we come here?” You shrugged as you put your hand on your lower back and rubbed at a tight spot.

“I don’t know baby.” He nodded as he walked around on the mattress in circles for something to do.

“Daddy’s coming, too?” You nodded as another contraction rolled through your stomach. You glanced back at the clock to start some semblance of timing them and looked back at Michael.

“Daddy’s coming soon.” He nodded as he watched someone walking past the car.

“Can I go play?” You shook your head as you watched the woman with dreads and a samurai sword stand against the wall to watch your car.

“No baby, we’re gunna stay in the car for a while and wait for daddy.” Your son continued to ask questions at a nearly rapid fire pace; making you more and more anxious with every passing second. Your contractions where getting closer and stronger with every passing minute. You grit your teeth through each one and tried to tell yourself Kate wasn’t coming a week early.

“Sweetheart, you with me?” Tears filled your eyes as Michael asked if he could talk to daddy, too.

“Shut up, Negan!” You screamed into the black box as your water broke. Your son’s eyes went wide and his jaw snapped closed as someone banged on the back window of the car.

“(Y/N)! Talk to me!”

“Mommy, are you OK?”

“Hey… we have a doctor here… She…”

“Every one just shut up!” You snapped to the three guys at the same time. “I fucking have this.”

“Sweetheart, listen to me. Let the prick help you until I fucking get there.”

“No.” You whined as you tried to shift to a slightly more comfortable position.

“Mommy….”

“Prick, if you can fucking hear me, just break the fucking window and fucking help her!” It was only a matter of seconds before the drivers side window was bashed out. Someone popped the hood, unlocked the car and disconnected the battery to stop the alarm as Rick and the woman pulled open the trunk.

“No, just leave me.” Rick grabbed the walkie off the bed as Michael lurched over to you.

“I’ve got her.” Rick radioed as the woman got into the car.

“No!” Michael shouted as he punched her hard in the cheek. She smarted and looked over at you.

“Don’t fucking try to go near my son. He hits. Just fuckin’ let him follow (Y/N).” You missed the look the woman gave to Rick as she rubbed her cheek.

“Now he tells us.”

“Michonne, we gotta get her to the infirmary.”

“No just go…” You sobbed as tried to scoot away despite the contraction that was hitting you like a freight train. You held Michael to your side and shook your head.

“Hon, we have to get you inside…”

“(Y/N), get your fucking ass out of the Goddamn car, now!”

“Alright!” You sobbed, not knowing if Negan heard your response or not. You let Michonne and Rick help you out of the trunk and Michael scooted out behind you as fast as he could. You whined as you were lifted into the air and carried toward a house down the block. You forced yourself to focus on your breathing as the sound of little footsteps followed you down the road and then a screech.

“Quit, kid. I’m just carrying ya.” You glanced over at Carl, who had Michael held out in front of him as far as he could get him as the two of them followed after you, Rick and Michonne. You didn’t even bother to tell your son to relax, figuring instead that him getting a few good kicks and punches in was good karma in this situation.

“What do you need from us?” Rick asked the doctor as he brought you into her house. You took one look at her nervous face as she shook her head and stared at you.

“I need the radio. Anyone that is not a mother that planned on stayin’, get out. Leave my son.” You watched a look of relief wash over the doc’s face as you were set down on the table. Rick handed you the radio as Carl put your son down gladly.

“Michonne, I got this.” You glanced up at a woman with shoulder length brown hair as she walked in while ripping off her jacket. “You deliver him before or after?” You glanced over at your startled son as she corralled everyone outside and closed the door.

“Alone after.” She nodded as she headed over to the sink and quickly washed her hands.

“My name’s Maggie. I’m not a doctor but my dad was. He taught me how to do this. I’ll be in the same boat in seven months and I helped deliver Judith.” You nodded as you stood up and leaned forward on the table where you wanted to be.

“(Y/N).” She nodded and glanced up at you with a small smile.

“Alright, (Y/N). You know as well as I do what to do. You tell me what you need.” Within in minutes, the two of you fell into a nearly silent routine of breathing through contractions and waiting. You only had to wait about five minutes before Negan finally showed up. The moment he walked into the room, your glared at him.

“How the fuck could you leave the fucking keys in the car?” You screamed as you punched him in the chest. “I hate you right now.” He nodded as he picked his son up and brought him over to Simon.

“I fucking know you do.” He closed and locked the main door behind him as he walked over and kissed your forehead. “What do you need?”

“For you to just shut the fuck up.” He nodded as you grabbed onto his arm, painfully. As if your baby girl was just waiting on her daddy, you finally got the need to push. “Now, Maggie.” Your forehead fell onto your husband’s chest and he held your upper arms tight.

You forced yourself to focus on anything but the pain; like the sweat-slick leather in your left hand, the soft, cotton scarf in your right and the agitating bite of the zipper teeth of Negan’s jacket on your forehead. The room was shockingly quiet, the only sounds made were Maggie’s occasional instruction and Negan’s whispered words of encouragement. What felt like hours but was realistically only a few minutes after he walked in the door, the love of your life got to be the first to hold his baby girl.

“I’ll leave you two alone for a minute.” Maggie said softly as she headed out the door. The second it closed behind her, Negan’s hard facade disappeared.

“Look at her.” He cooed with tears in his eyes. “Hi princess.” He looked down at you the exam table you had collapsed on with a smile. “She’s perfect.”

“She waited for you.” You said as you caught your breath. His smile got impossibly larger as he leaned against the exam table. You gently reached out and brushed the back of your finger across his cheek. “Be easy on them. The kid didn’t know we were in the car. Just thought it was a cool car and they did a good thing helping me.”

“Doesn’t fucking change anything.” You nodded as he gently passed you Kate.

“I know it doesn’t… but the punishment doesn’t warrant Lucille. Make your point, but make it fast.” His brown eyes studied yours for a moment as he slowly shook his head.

“What the fuck did I do to deserve your kind heart, baby girl?” A smile pulled at the corner of your lips and you shrugged.

“I mean, you fucked me like a porn star.” He smiled as he leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“I love you.” You looked up at him and smiled.

“I love you, too.”

——

“So here are your two fucking options.” Negan told the Alexandrian’s as Simon, Maggie and her husband, Glenn helped you and your kids over to the car to go home to the Sanctuary’s doctor a few hours after Kate was born.

“One, fucking pirate boy gets to meet Lucille for kidnapping my fucking wife and kids. Two, Pirate boy shoots someone of your fucking choosing for kidnapping my fucking wife and kids. One fucking way or another, someone is gunna fucking pay for this shit today.” You glanced up at Negan as you tried to roll yourself onto the new mattress Rick had provided you. You could hear Rick try to protest as Maggie kneeled in the car and passed you Kate.

“Stay here.” You said softly to her as you looked up at her. You shook your head as you glanced over at Negan. “I can’t stop him from what he does… but I can protect you for helping me.” You watched tears well in her eyes as Michael climbed into the car next to you.

“Glenn…” She tried, the name sticking in her throat. “Glenn, come help me with this.” You reached out and took her hand in silent apology. Her husband appeared beside her and kneeled in the trunk as Negan’s voice got a little louder.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered as she clutched her husband’s hand. “Thank you for helping me.” She gave you a weak smile and nodded as tears welled in her eyes.

“What…” Glenn’s words were cut off as a gun shot rang out.

“I’m sorry.” Maggie nodded as she pulled the blanket they had given you over your lap.

“It’s not you.” Her eyes met yours and you both exchanged a weak smile. “If you ever, ever feel unsafe, Alexandria’s doors are open to you and your kids.” You squeezed her hand and nodded as Glenn got out of the trunk.

“Thanks again, Maggie.” She gave you a teary eyed smile and backed out of the car as Negan walked over to ride in the back with you. “If you need anything for yours, please feel free to let me know; mother to mother.” She nodded as Negan looked at you with his eyebrow raised. You looked back at him with your own eyebrows raised, expectantly. “Negan.”

“Thanks for helping my wife.” He said as he got in the trunk and scooted back along the back rows of seats. He reached over and dropped Lucille on the back seat with a smile. He glanced back at Simon and pat the seat. “Let’s go.” You gave Maggie one last smile as one of the guys from the crew shut the trunk. She and Glenn immediately turned and ran off to help with whoever was killed.

“Mommy, I hold Katie cat now?” You smiled at your oldest and nodded. Negan picked up Michael and scooted to your side to help his oldest hold his youngest. You glanced over your shoulder at Simon as he pulled your car out of the walls of Alexandria.

“You ever fucking leave the Goddamn keys in the fucking car again and I will kill you with Lucille.” He glanced back over his shoulder at you with a smile and a nod.

“Yes ma’am.”

[hawaiianhalfwolf]

So what you're saying is, I'm your brand of heroin? | Noah & Reza

About three things Noah was absolutely positive.......

Toweling off his hair a little more Noah looked in the mirror for one last time checking to make sure he was presentable. If this was any normal night he’d be most likely be naked by now, obviously company warranted proper clothes. Or at least a pair of basketball shorts and a muscle tee. Hanging up his towel in his bathroom, Noah padded back across his room human ears pricked for the doorbell. He’d told Reza he could come over like an hour ago though maybe it took more time for the kid to get here than 30 minutes. Shrugging it off Noah went to scoop up the little foster pup from his position snoozing on his bed figuring it was best to just move everyone downstairs to wait. And of course it was only when he was halfway down the stairs did he hear it the faint chime of the doorbell that was only installed for Noah’s benefit, the little pup tucked under his arm starting to stir from all the noise. “Coming!” the boy called out as he ran down the last of the stairs Kea already beating him to the door “Back,” he commanded looking straight at her expecting her to do as she was told. And she did paws moving back a few steps, tail still wagging profusely. “Good girl” He praised before going for the door and opening it wide upon Reza. “Hello hello, long time no see.”

Reza would never admit to it but he'd shown up to Noah's house at the exact time given -- half an hour from their conversation-- and then proceeded to loiter around for another half hour. Mostly to avoid any unbearable situations, like accidentally disrupting Noah's shower early, but also because he didn't want to seem too eager. Which he was. Hanging around in that smelly hole of a basement he called home got lonely. Way lonely and cuddling it up with a dog was without a doubt the perfect solution. Talking to Noah didn't make things worse, either, since the older boy seemed to exist purely to spread positivity and kindness; something Reza really was lacking in his life at the moment. If only his traitorous thoughts would stop making him feel like hanging out with an admittedly handsome friend was in some way betrayal to a dead person. And really, person was a stretch. Jittery hands finally knocked on the door and Reza could immediately smell the mixed scent of dog, fresh shampoo and something his nose told him was Noah. "Hey," he greeted with a touch less enthusiasm, smile getting lost as his gaze quickly turned to the ground. "Thanks for letting me come over." Reza shifted on the doorstep, shrugging off his jacket as soon as he did to avoid it getting covered in dog hairs because no way was he not getting on his knees to pet the gorgeous dog wagging its tail, leaving him in the traditional black, skinny jeans and an even darker T-shirt (a personal favorite decorated with a sleeping cat and the words 'not today'). A sensation he knew by now, but was no less uncomfortable, told him that he couldn't pass the doorstep just yet. Noah hadn't explicitly invited him in which meant... yeah.

Moving away from the entrance so Reza could pass through Noah went to stand next to Kea happy she was waiting patiently. “It’s totally no problem dude.” He brushed off the gratitude smiling at the boy, because it really was no problem. “Plus you caught us on a quiet night, most of the time there’s at least 3 extra people milling about the kitchen eating our food, isn’t that right?” Noah cooed down at the little pup in his arms, his little snout giving a rather large yawn that made Noah’s heart practically melt in his chest. God he love puppies so much. Glancing back over at the kid he noticed he’s gotten rid of his jacket, a funny shirt and his general punk skinny jeans look underneath. And Noah would be lying if he didn’t feel that tingle, that small little wolf inside of him kinda wondering what all those clothes would look like on the floor. But he pushed that down. God. He really needed to get laid sometime soon so that shit stopped happening with his fucking friends. Shaking off the inner turmoil though Noah cocked his head at the boy outside. “So what are you a vampire now?” Noah teased looking at Reza standing stock still on the doorway. Most of his regular friends would have barged in by now, but then again Reza was not a normal friend, and maybe he just was super polite, yea maybe that was it. “Come on get in here before Kea explodes from excitement.” Noah said before turning and walking towards the couch making it plainly clear the Reza should come inside now. Oh and shut the door behind him too.

Reza quickly began to fidget, weighing the option of just turning on his heel and walking the other way because this was just... the worst. The puppy yawned with excitement and Reza decided to stay, if only for the dog. Something shifted in Noah's eyes for a second, pupils darkening and for a moment Reza wondered if it was realization dawning behind his eyes. Did Reza's reluctance -- or inability-- to enter somehow out him as a vampire? Holy... “So what are you a vampire now?” A... a joke? Noah was joking. Obviously. He didn't know, how could he. The offer to step inside was accepted without hesitation, Reza shuffling inside with an awkward laugh. "A vampire. Yeah, for sure. I'm the one creeping outside your window every night." Cringing at himself, Reza simply turned all his attention to the dog instead of trying to fix that mess of a sentence. He was greeted vigorously by the door, a genuine laugh slipping past his lips as paws scrabbled for Reza, tongue slobbering towards his face. "Hey, there, girl How are you? You are absolutely gorgeous," he cooed, the built up tension and nervousness easing slightly as his cold fingers wrapped into the soft fur.

“You know if you wanted to see me naked all you had to do was ask.” Noah quipped playfully over his shoulder as he walked over to the couch the little foster puppy in tow with him while Haukea stayed by the door. Blanching a little though at the realization of what he just said, to Reza, someone who thought he was weird for giving a compliment Noah instantly backtracked “And I swear that was totally a joke” He said turning around so Reza could see the seriousness in his eyes. Holding it for a moment Noah resumed his task, sitting down and making himself comfortable. That and reminding himself that Reza was not one of his bros. He didn’t get the humor and the subtle gay undertones that were a part of Noah’s everyday life with his friends. Looking over at Haukea though (as she totally ignored her training and jumped on Reza, hed had to go over that with her again) Noah realized again where he was failing  “Oh my god. You’ve never met Haukea have you.” Noah asked over the side of the couch practically face palming himself “Wow. My total bad dude. So yea that’s Haukea, she loves long walkies and taking up half of whatever you are sitting on. So don’t say you weren’t warned” Noah grinned over at the pair happy that Kea might have have a part in making the poor kid smile.

"That's not what I..." Reza started defensively, cutting himself off short as he remembered that Noah liked his jokes a bit underneath the belt. So this was a joke. Obviously. Noah quickly confirmed that he hadn't been serious but Reza was still rigid as a stick. Man, this was exhausting, wading through weird hoops of compliments and sexual jokes delivered so casually that they made him sort of choke on his own spit. His attention turned back to the dog, a much safer area than pretty much all conversation with Noah, a smile returning to Reza's face. "She can take up all the space she wants." Nuzzling her head with his forehead before the dog bounded back to Noah, Reza stood up and brushed off his jeans. He felt pretty exposed wearing nothing but a T-shirt but putting on his jacket would make it seem like he was itching to leave right away. Hands in his pockets, Reza loitered over to the couch, glancing to the puppy joining Noah on the couch. "And, uh, who's that then?"

Ignoring the slightly awkward atmosphere that came about with his joke Noah focused on making himself more comfortable on the couch.Turning his back toward the armrest Noah spread his legs slightly placing the small pup on the space between his chest and his knees. Yea that was a lot more comfortable, though that still left Reza over by the door while Noah was taking up half the couch.. “You shouldn’t say that.” Noah replied to Reza with a playful shake of his head hoping the kid would get the memo that he could come into the living room. “Because next thing you know she’ll be pushing you out of a queen sized bed. Huh you little bed stealer ” He gave Haukea a nice head scratch as she passed already jumping up into her usual spot at Noah’s feet. But that’s not what Noah wanted. “Down.” Noah commanded with a finger snap the second her paws touched the couch. “Reza gets to chose where he sits first then you can squeeze your ass in whatever space is available” He told her as if she understood, but he guessed that was less for her benefit and more for Reza’s. Because while there were few of fluffy pillows strewn about the floor (from the last pack meeting), and a rather large looking armchair tucked in the corner (Cahill’s chair) Noah kinda wished Reza would sit with him on the couch. You know. Like Friends did. Looking down at the speckled puppy trying to find a good sport on his chest Noah huffed a little, the pups name a sore spot in his eyes “Well technically his name at the barn was Granite, but I’m not sure if I like that for him.” He frowned at the puppy slightly “Though I probably shouldn’t rename him if I’m fostering, don’t want to become too attached you know”

"I don't need..." A bed? Sleep? Not things you can say, Reza, "...that much space, to be honest. Perks of being a skinny, small guy." Usually, he was more comfortable curled up on the edge of a mattress, anyway. As Haukea was commanded to the floor, Reza frowned, her big, sad dog eyes tugging at his sympathy. Noah's following statement made him shift awkwardly as he wondered if Mister Big and Burly wanted Reza to squeeze into the couch with him. That plan had so many flaws, including but not exclusive to Reza's cold skin, Reza being that close to someone with a beating heart (blood bag or no, his gums still itched at the thought) and Reza being mildly terrified of the thought of human contact since... Yeah, Reza on the couch wasn't happening. "Aw, I don't have the heart to leave her on the floor," he excused himself, taking a seat crosslegged on a pillow facing Noah. It felt instantly more comfortable, perhaps in part because this was the similar set up he'd had with Heath while watching TV and no, comparing Noah to him in any way or form was not an option. "What if I rename him?" he blurted out to escape from pit in his head that had slowly cracked open, "that way it's not exactly yours but you get to call it something else?"

Noah couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at Reza chalking up the small pause in between his phrases as just the punk teen being awkward again. “Well the concept of not needing much space that has become completely foreign to me since puberty,” He admitted with a shrug ruffling the fluffy ears of the puppy in his lap. Watching closely as Haukea used her eyes Reza though Noah opened his mouth to say something but instantly shut it, knowing that he probably had fucked on on this one.  Because offering couch space to Reza was too forward wasn’t it? It was too intimate and too. It was too much of what Noah liked and what Noah needed, and probably none what Reza needed. So taking the small sense of hurt and rejection and burying it deep down Noah just spread his legs out in front of him the pup in his lap nipping lightly at Noah’s leg as it moved. “Well your loss dude.” He joked out casually “Especially since she’s definitely manipulating you.” Noah looked over towards Haukea the lab smiling between both Noah and Reza almost happy she got her way. But he could never be mad at that face for long “Yea cuz you would have been just fine spread eagle over the top of us on the couch wouldn’t you?” He cooed as he gave her a couple good neck scratches with his outstretched hand. Feeling Granite start to puppy chew on his other hand Noah glanced over to Reza mulling his proposition over in his mind  “I mean if you want to? I mean. I guess. I don’t know.” Noah rambled knowing he was making no sense whatsoever, “But I guess what I mean to say is If you feel like you have a good one I’m definitely open to it.

Reza watched the dog for a moment as it made itself comfortable, wondering if he was really that easily manipulated that a canine could overpower his will. No, this had been a decision based purely on not having to plop onto the sofa next to Noah. Reza wasn't the pushover he'd been -- how could he be considering what he'd become? Besides, that big ball of fluff wasn't capable of real manipulation, anyway. Brushing off the cord the statement had struck within him, Reza focused on the name-giving instead. "Hey, woah, I never said I had a good one. Just trying to be a problem solver." Leaning back, palms flat against the floor, he thought it over. A lot of names he'd have given his own pets came to mind but this was Noah. Maybe it didn't need to be too complicated, though... "I think, and don't cite me on this, that in Hebrew, Caleb means like, wolf or dog or something. So it's like naming your cat Cat."

“Well you’re in the Kalani household now kid, we expect perfection” Noah teased out towards Reza a sly grin on his face. It was hopefully taken as the joke it was, mostly because he really did appreciate the help however small. And he was glad reza was starting to get comfortable with him enough to suggest things. Contemplating the suggestion though Noah bit his lip slightly “You know I never thought about Caleb. I mean I usually name my animals funny things in Hawaiian and not funny things in Hebrew.” Noah smiled looking down at Haukea (aka little miss Snow White) fondly. Well that was before Granite puppy chewed at his fingers again bringing the older boy’s attention back to him “But maybe you could be the one that breaks the mold huh buddy.” He cooed moving his hands a bit so the pup had to move some to pin them. “So hebrew huh? Do you actually know the language or are you like a name researcher” He asked glancing over at Reza.

Reza felt immensely relieved that Noah liked the name, feeling pretty happy to have put something nice into this household. Even though it wasn't permanent but maybe the name would stick. Eyeing the dog with envy, knowing that there was no way he could take care of a dog -- not to mention a puppy-- Reza ripped himself out of those thoughts. Yes, having something to cuddle in the damp hole of a basement would make everything tremendously improved but he couldn't do that to the poor thing, bringing it into those living conditions. He didn't want to think about what else could go wrong, having a live animal around him at all times. The blood bags weren't necessarily going to be a plan forever. "Uh, neither? I do know some Arabic and the two are pretty similiar in a lot of ways so... I mean, I have researched names but like... only pet names since that was kinda all I wanted when I was younger. And now, too, I guess." He smiled, eyes flicking back to the puppy trying to devour Noah's hand and failing completely.

Glancing over toward Reza Noah could see his eyes on the pup, the longing almost palpable and Noah knew what he had to do next. Lifting Granite/Caleb off of his chest the older boy placed him on the floor in a small unceremonious gesture scooting the pup toward the boy “Here go terrorize your sister and Uncle Reza for a change.” He mock whispered to the pup as Haukea lifted her head from her spot, tail thumping against the ground in anticipation for puppy play time with her new little foster brother. Settling back into his dog free zone on the couch Noah scooted forward his head now resting on a pillow against the headrest, his long ass legs dangling slightly from the other end.    “Thats pretty cool.” He commented though once Reza started talking about his language skills “I mean I’ve never tried Arabic, but I give you mad props for trying, cuz it looks hard as fuck.” Turning he resettled himself so he was facing Reza and not the ceiling “I do get the pet name thing though, cuz my dad was always asking me to name the strays left at his clinic. So I’d go online and take a few days to pick out like what I thought was the perfect name and he’d be like… you know you could have just picked something easy like Bob” Noah recalled with a smile, heart aching slightly at the fact that that was only a memory now.

Reza accepted the pup trotting over with welcoming arms, chuckling as it stumbled over his legs. "Hey," he whispered to Caleb, scratching his head. "Hmm? Oh, it's easier when your parents speak the language. I mean, I'm rusty as fuck these days but..." Shrugging, Reza saved his fingers from the relentless puppy's chewing to pull down the collar of his shirt. "I kid myself that I'm keeping the language alive by getting tattoos in urdu, like my mom's name here. I also have a quote on my ribs but, uhm..." Reza let his shirt fall back over his collarbone, clearing his throat. "Yeah, you can just imagine that one. So, uh, Bob the dog. Doesn't have as good of a ring to it as Caleb the dog." Smooth transition there, big guy. Reza really did like talking about his tattoos but he wasn't going to start... stripping for Noah to show them off.

Looking at Reza Noah smiled a little glad that the Caleb was having a good time with his guest. “Yea i’ll bet” Noah mumbled out into the couch a little sad that his dad didn’t speak more Hawaiian to him, or that his mom completely forgot her Turkish due to being adopted young. Eye tracking Reza though he stared at deft fingers pulling down his shirt collar to show him his urdu tattoo, that was actually quite beautiful. Trying not to stare to hard though Noah focused on the symbolism of the tattoo and not the pale skin underneath especially when Reza started blushing about the quote on his ribs.  “Dude don’t kid yourself.” Noah shook his head sitting up on the couch  “I mean first thing I’m doing when I get off of football this year is go and get my family’s tribal pattern on my chest and shoulder in honor of my dad. So like I get it.” He grinned at the other boy before the light bulb went off in his head “Which speaking of, do you know any good artists that know about polynesian tattoos?” He asked Reza ears perking up slightly at the sound of the door opening. It was Charlie one of the pack members coming through the door. “Looking for extra poker chips?” Noah called out to him pre-empting the mans questioning. It was poker night for Cahill and his male pack members, and of course the Alpha would send someone else to collect the things Noah told him he should bring in the first place. Typical. Standing there like the lumberjack wonder he was Charlie looked a little confused, hand rubbing in his beard, before he nodded, eyes never straying from Reza “Up the stairs in the hall closet” Noah pointed, as if this was the most casual thing in the world to him. Slowly Charlie climbed the stairs leaving Reza and Noah back to their talking “Don’t mind him, that’s just Charlie, a friend of my Uncles” Noah said waving it off as it if was nothing.

Reza perked up when Noah asked about a tattoo artist, the thought of actually being able to give someone good advice on something he knew and knew well filling him with a euphoric purpose. "Dude, yeah! I've seen so many great tattoos when I've been browsing and--" The door slammed and Reza's newly found energy escaped his body like a deflating balloon. Someone was home? Reza hadn't been prepared for anyone other than Noah and some dogs. The very tall, very burly man that appeared in the door caused every muscle in Reza's body to tense, his fingers wrapping up in Caleb's fur. The fact that this bearded man wasn't moving his eyes off Reza's face despite how uncomfortable the vampire clearly looked wasn't helping the situation. Even when the freezing stare left him, Reza still sat completely still, almost inhumanly so, only snapping back to reality when Caleb started to squirm. "Hmm? Yeah, it's... fine. Just... fine." Caleb starting licking at Reza's hand, clearly sensing the discomfort. With his brain slowly calming down after the disheartening staring contest, Reza became acutely aware of the smell in the room that seemed to have intensified with Charlie's arrival. It was the same smell Reza had subconsciously started connecting to Noah, only much stronger. Was this... were the both of them not... human? Did Reza's nose know more than he did?

Smiling at the boy Noah tried to keep the conversation going, mistaking Reza’s silence for the possibility that he was just uncomfortable. Which Noah thought was fair enough, not everyone lived with such an open door policy as the Kalani Pack did after all, and that could be startling at first. Just all the people coming and going. “That’s good though,” Noah commented after Charlie bounded up the stairs “I mean I want to make sure it’s done, well, respectfully and as authentically as possible though so it’s like.” Noah shrugged “I almost feel like i should fly to Hawai’i and get to done there just to be safe or something”

"Yeah, mhm," Reza replied with disinterest, ears now perked for any sound from the broody Charlie. Something in him was tingling, telling him to run, probably just his paranoia but he was definitely on edge. "Hawaii sounds fun and--" Footsteps thumped back down the stairs and Reza tensed, with Caleb cuddling into his lap, probably expecting something dangerous to happen just because of Reza's reaction. Charlie appeared back downstairs and Reza's eyes locked onto the dogs, in the hopes of avoiding another staring contest. As soon as Charlie left, Reza could politely excuse himself and bolt. Even though he could already imagine Noah's big, sad eyes reacting to that announcement.

Watching Reza tense again as Charlie came back down the stairs Noah couldn’t help but be concerned. He didn’t know much about Charlie only that the 30-something man had swept in from Montana 5 years ago after his wife left him. Apparently she wasn’t a fan of werewolves, which was sad, but luckily Charlie found the right man to bring his car into for repairs. Funnily enough the rest was history. But that didn’t mean Noah felt as at ease around Charlie as he did other members of the pack. Charlie was. Well he was just Charlie. Stoic and obedient. Didn’t talk much. Which was a shame because he always looked like he had something to say under that rugged beard. Like he did right now standing at the bottom of the stairs a troubled look on his face. “Hey before I go,” Charlie paused coming a bit closer “Um did you happen to tell Cahill about this?” He asked swinging a finger in both of their directions.  Glancing over the side of the couch to where Charlie was standing Noah gave a confused stare. “Tell Cahill what? About me having someone over?” He asked not really knowing what the big deal was about. He was 22 after all well past the age where he needed to tell Cahill about each and every one of his playdates “No I meant about you being here with” Charlie’s eyes flickered slightly toward Reza, giving Noah the all so subtle hint that it had something to do with the boy on the ground “I dont know what you’re-”” Noah until. Shit. Fuck. Did Charlie mean, no, he couldn’t be. Trying to stop his brain from exploding inside of his skull Noah stood hand in the air the a look of pure panic written all over his face  “we’re totally not like dating or fucking if that’s what you mean I swear we’re just friends I mean I’m not even g-” “Stop,” Charlie stopped him with his free hand eyes wide “I totally did not mean that,” He clarified before his face soften “though If you were to be dating men now I would be totally fi-” Noah could feel all of the blood rush out of his body at that exact second. “Do not finish that sentence for the love of all that is holy,” He blurted over the top of Charlie, the look of panic still caught in his eyes. Because nope he was not doing this here, like this, in front of Reza ok. I mean not that he minded coming out to Reza since it seemed like the boy wouldn’t judge but just. Yea no, Nope. Not the time not the place “Just tell me what you meant before and we’ll consider everything good.” Noah continued lips pursed in a line now. But it was Charlie who now  looked confused “You mean you can’t feel it?” Looking at Charlie and Noah couldn’t help but shake his head, an eyebrow raised to illustrate his own emotions on the subject “Feel what?” He asked turning to Reza wondering if the boy had any insight.

It was definitely time to freak out now, Reza decided, as Charlie asked his 'before I go' question. Really, it was some sort of miracle that Noah hadn't found him out yet, since Reza felt like he just radiated these awkward vibes of 'I'm not human.' Avoiding Charlie's accusing gaze, mind screaming fire and setting off every alarm, Reza couldn't help but wonder just how this very large man had deducted Reza's secret after being here for literally five minutes. It had to mean that he wasn't human and neither was Noah... Noah, who was now on his feet and Reza realized he hadn't been listening to what was transpiring, instead just preparing for imminent doom, but his friend (?) was blushing like crazy and maybe this wasn't about him being a vampire? Did Charlie think this was a... date? Noah was close to screaming now and Reza's muscles were all tensed for escape, his eyes starting to flit to the door. Charlie had made it clear that he wasn't showing an interest in Noah's love life. He was showing an interest in the vermin Noah had brought into their house. “Feel what?” Noah asked and as soon as his attention turned to Reza, the vampire was on the move, scrambling to his feet around the confused puppy and bolting to the door. He heard Charlie approaching before he saw him, barrelling into the muscular chest now blocking the door. His stance went defensive -- primal-- as Charlie growled deep from his throat. The other dogs whined at the sound and Reza could feel his eyes flashing red. Shit. “You let him invite you into his home. His den-” Charlie paused, taking a deep breath, his hackles coming down slightly. Reza didn't relax one bit. “You owe him an explanation. You owe him that much at least. And if you don’t tell him I will." Shoulders still hunched, eyes red and narrowed, Reza resisted the urge to hiss. He should just let him leave, this was completely unnecessary. "Just let me leave," he half-growled under his breath, for Charlie's ears only, voice almost pleading.

Watching it all unfold like a bad horror film, Reza must have been supernatural with the way he moved Noah’s eyes barely registering he’d left before he was clashing at the door with Charlie. And Noah was up in an instant mind going straight to how he could de escalate the situation instead of anything else. Or rather just get Reza to somewhere safe and not staring down the barrel of 250 pounds of angry werewolf. Wedging himself in between the two men Noah kept his eyes on Charlie, hands reaching out behind him to start pushing Reza’s torso, hoping the other boy would get the hint that he needed to back away and back away now. “Stand Down Charlie” Noah growled out a certain venom to his words. In purer werewolf terms he was outranked for sure. But this was still his house, and Noah was. Well Noah was the punk ass kid who challenged his Alpha all the time, so he wasn’t going to let some lowly pack member try to tell him what was best for his world. Not now, not ever. “Noah” Charlie growled out as if to test his resolve. But noah was not backing down No sir. “Do not fucking Noah me right now. This is my house. I outrank you by default.” He was staring straight at Charlie now as if daring him to challenge his authority in his own fucking house. Luckily for all of them though Charlie had enough sense to know when he was beaten and silently looked away waiting for Noah to clean up the mess he’d just made. Taking a deep breath Noah kept his eyes on Charlie but spoke for the boy behind him. “Reza, if you need to leave the back slider is open. You can go down the porch, and take a right around the struts, there’s a gate to the drive way in that general direction. If you just need somewhere safe my room is at the top of the stairs 2nd door on the left. No one but me is allowed to be in there.” The last part was emphasized not for Reza’s benefit but for Charlie’s, as they all knew the house rules. Noah’s bedroom was off limits unless invited. Even for Cahill the alpha.

Noah's hand on his torso made Reza cringe away, his body still pulled taut like a string waiting to snap. A part of him wanted a fight, convinced he could at least get a few good hits -- or bites-- in, but Noah being in the way stopped him. It took his panicked and anger-run brain a moment to realize that Noah wasn't trying to defend Charlie; he was defending Reza. Deflating like a popped balloon, Reza took a few steps back, eyes fading back to brown. The word 'leave' snapped his attention because yes, yes Reza needed to leave. The primal part of his brain was still lit up like a Christmas tree and that scared whatever logic was left in his brain; no way did he want this situation to escalate. He backtracked a few more steps, feeling Charlie's gaze burning his face. "I'm sorry," he muttered under his breath, turning on his heel and bolting for the back slider. As soon as he burst outside into the fresh air, his head cleared, managing to work through some of what he'd just witnessed. Charlie was an... animal. A werewolf. Which had to mean that Noah was one, too. And Charlie could have killed him. But he didn't. Because of Noah. Noah had protected him, even after most likely realizing that Reza wasn't human either; that Reza had lied. Realizing that he was still sprinting, Reza slowed down, finally slumping down to the ground. He could still see the barnhouse in the distance but he couldn't find the strength to get up, mind still reeling. His secret was out to Noah. And Reza had no idea what would happen now.

[thetravellingvagrant]

Day 1: Glasgow-London - In Which I Ride Three Too Many Buses

I was awake before my ludicrously early alarm even had a chance to punch my ears in all to buggery with its obnoxiously soothing little wake-up ditty. Sam had – rather selfishly I felt – had a flare up of hay fever symptoms in the night and subsequentially had honked both her and myself awake a fairly generous length of time before we were supposed to be.

Desperately trying not to go into a grump before even the Pre-Vagrancy had properly begun, I decided to think of my premature arousal as me having beaten my alarm by a clear twenty minutes (which is actually loads. Step you game up, alarm, you fucking loser) and hoisted myself into a no less bleary eyed but now substantially more vertical mess of hair and unhappiness.

Thanks to Sam's...enthusiasm for over-preparation (which some people more calloused than I might describe as withering anality, but not me, because I'm a good and supportive boyfriend and not one of you has the stones to say otherwise) we left her flat with an  unnecessarily long time buffer to play with before our Megabus to London was due to depart at 7:00am. At the very least it did seem that travelling with Sam would be a pretty effective prophylactic against the first-day-curse.

And so, after a quick detour to take some bin-bags out, we were officially ready for adventure

To Adventure! (Not pictured: Peru)

We made the brief journey to Hyndland train station, literally screaming with laughter over how much time we had to spare, though as we began our ascent to the platform, Sam stopped in her tracks. To be honest, I thought she was ironically killing time, because we had so much of it to spare that she felt entirely comfortable making a mockery of it on a conceptual level. I was, however, as the sharper readers out there may already have figured out, wrong about that.

“...I've forgotten my lunch”

I blinked and sighed. I slinked, or blighed- whichever one reads better in text (slinked I think...)- and, without speaking, spun on my heels and headed back flatwards, annoyed to have to backtrack carrying the heavy backpack that I was, but also quietly vindicated that we didn't get up early for no good reason and secretly overjoyed to have not been the first one of us to have fucked up in any sort of significant way.

Sam hopped back up to her flat to collect her food while I sat outside, pretending to be okay with the situation. A few minutes later, she reappeared, visibly distressed.

“I can't find it!”

...It was a bright orange Sainsbury's carrier bag, which- owing to the fact that she had definitely had it in her hands moments before leaving- would presumably have been placed in a very noticeable location. How on earth could she not find it? Slinking again, I stood up to venture inside for a poke around of my own. As I did, however, a thought hit me.

“Did you...” I mused, “Did you, uh...when we took the bins out...” I motioned to the trash can, by which I was sitting. A moment passed. Sam Slinked, except without the sighing part – if only they had a word for that – and without speaking, lifted the huge, perforated, leaking bag of trash from the bin into which she had placed it minutes earlier, rooted around a little and with an almost exactly equal mixture of triumph and defeat, which I have never seen before and venture that I never will again, hoisted her bright orange Sainsbury's bag full of food from its stinking tomb. It seemed that Sam would be instrumental in my avoiding the first day curse, after all. By transferring it all to herself instead. To be honest, I was still fine with that, being the supportive and good boyfriend that I absolutely am.

With one train now missed, but still ample(-ish) time, we boarded the next available one, trash meal in hand (Sam's hand, that is- I want to stress that my food did not go in a bin) and finally, were away, but like, for real this time.

We proceeded to Buchanan bus station with ease, being the seasoned travellers that we both undeniably are- and found ourselves eagerly awaiting out cramped, uncomfortable carriage to London a full 17 minutes before it was due to depart. Smashed it, lad.

It was hot. Even at 7am the heat was unpleasant and irritating. This, compounded by our lack of sleep, heavy bags and our being surrounded by irritating and unpleasant Megabus passengers meant that grumpiness was very much the order of the day.

We waited in as orderly a queue as I think it is possible to do while waiting for a Megabus as our poverty-chariot sat idling for 20 minutes beyond its scheduled departure time. While the rest of us witless dullards waited in what was very clearly the correct (and only) queue, however, a couple, who I can really only describe as fat Nikki Sixx (a phrase I have stolen wholesale, from a friend, but will not be crediting) and his child bride defied this most basic piece of bus-etiquette like the true mavericks they were and began a second, auxiliary queue, slightly round the corner from us, in which they were the premiere members.

The rest of us, being British and therefore spineless in the face of low-level conflict remained quiet and privately seethed over the sheer gall of this undeniably brazen act. Finally, however, we were allowed to board and Fat Nikki Sixx and his jailbait queen were summarily informed by the stout, smelly driver to join the very back of the actual queue. A hero's move and one that was met with an audible cheer from the crowd. Or rather, one person in the crowd. Sam. It was Sam. Boy she hated those people. With that little victory in our pockets, we took the available seats least likely to make Sam vomit into a carrier bag during the journey and were finally London-bound.

Our first bus journey of the day was remarkably uneventful- Aside from a young woman managing to lock herself in the bus toilet and screaming at the top of her lungs “HELP. HELP, I'M TRAPPED IN THE TOILET” before managing to unlock the door for herself, literally seconds later- an episode which I missed due to having headphones in, but am told by Sam, was very funny, not much of any note happened at all. No drunk Scottish person being ejected at Preston despite the fact it was still before 10am, no African woman who had booked a ticket for the wrong day, though still inexplicably expected to be allowed on board. Nothing. I listened to podcasts and watched films for the duration and Sam ate her bag of trash like a little raccoon and that was it.

We soon arrived in London and upon stepping foot of the bus, immediately realised how good its air conditioning had been. It was literally like opening an oven door. While on fire. That bit was a little less literal.  It was very hot though; something like 34 degrees, which, if you're interested was actually 3 degrees hotter than the Amazon rain-forest was, that day.

We lugged our shit from Victoria coach station to the nearby Sainsbury's for the evening's rations and a little ice-lolly and back to the station to catch our second bus of the day, to Gatwick Airport. This round-trip took less than twenty minutes, but was enough to reduce me to the most disgusting, sweatiest, unhappiest mess I have ever been (and people who know me will tell you, that is an incredibly low bar for me to have to limbo under). If I had even a little moisture left in my body, I would definitely have been weeping it out.

Pictured: A happy, dry man.

An agonisingly uncomfortable 25 minutes later, though, and we were aboard bus number 2, literally (not literally) flying towards Gatwick. The AC on this bus – and I know this is a boring thing to write about. Write your own sweet travel blog if you don't like it – was truly top notch,. I honestly felt the majority of the journey feeling a little chilly, if anything. I could probably quite comfortably  have put a hoodie on. I didn't; that would have been ludicrous, obviously, but I could have. I stress again, start your own travel blog if you don't like this bit.

After a lot longer than you would expect it would take to drive to an airport with the name of the city you are currently in, in its own name, we arrived; tired, bedraggled and in desperate need of dinner and a sleep. We stepped back into the unpleasant idiot-furnace that was the world outside and headed towards our final bus of the day: the airport shuttle to our travelodge.

We (I) found the right stop and waited in the blazing, horrible heat. After a brief interlude in which Sam, who can be...a bit stressy, insisted we get on the wrong bus because it was there and she didn't want to miss it, despite it going to the wrong Travelodge, we boarded the /correct/ bus  and undertook the arduous four minute journey which cost us both that many pounds per ticket, which obviously I was utterly thrilled over, because I hate money and always wish I had less of it,

Now, utterly befuckled on a frankly cosmic level, we dragged ourselves through the doors of the lodge, to the horrified gasps of the other guests. Fifteen hours after we had started and around a stone lighter each in sweat, we had arrived. I don't think anyone has ever been as pleased to step foot inside a travelodge as I was at that point and honestly? I don't think anyone ever will be, again. I was so happy that I nearly didn't even care about how much that fucking shuttle bus had cost and everything.

Any notion of pride or class entirely gone, now (a slightly bigger drop for Sam than for me), we did what apparently just comes naturally to vagrants and sat, in bed, in our pants, eating sandwiches in bed , while watching absolute garbage on a woefully underspecced laptop. At least it seemed like that bit would be the same as travelling alone.

[sage-nebula]

Mystic Messenger - Entry 10

After a brief hiatus, here we are once again with my Mystic Messenger playthrough. Of course, by this point I have finished the game (and then some), but since people seemed to be enjoying these liveblogs, I figured I’d go ahead and continue posting them anyway. Entry Nine is here, and as a quick recap---

Previously on Mystic Messenger:

Everyone is aware that the special security system in Rika’s apartment is a bomb, installed there by Seven on V’s and Rika’s orders.

We had a flashback sequence to the day Rika had Seven install the bomb, which included a lot of emotional abuse and manipulation on her part.

Seven is still ignoring me, and was doing a good job of it until MC decided to look at a book he had brought with him, which contained a floppy disc that he did not want MC to see. This led to an argument (at least in my rewrite of that scene), and so far, relations have not improved.

So with that little recap out of the way . . .

If you’ll remember, everyone is trying to get in touch with V at the moment, because V’s actions and motivations have become highly suspicious ever since the hacker broke into the apartment, the bomb was discovered, and Seven revealed that he installed the bomb on V’s and Rika’s orders. V, if you’ll recall, is off gallivanting who-knows-where, last we heard. Seven has left him messages, Jumin has left him messages, and now Jaehee is waiting for V’s phone call on Jumin’s orders, despite the late hour. As much as it sucks for Jaehee to have to wait for V’s phone call like this, I will say that the amount of trust and faith that Jumin places in her is sweet. He’s being sweet in his own way.

Although, at least she isn’t alone.

Poor Jaehee. Also poor sales department intern, because I’m sure that falling for Han Jumin can’t be easy due to the fact that he is ace af and doesn’t seem to develop romantic feelings for others very easily (if at all). 

Anyway, Jumin obviously turned down Jaehee’s offer, because she’s the only one he trusts to take V’s call. It makes sense, honestly, since none of the other C&R employees are members of the RFA, as Jaehee is. Either way, Elizabeth the 3rd was there with him, much to Jaehee’s dismay since Elizabeth was shedding everywhere, and---

Jumin is a fucking furry, pt. 3.

V did finally end up calling at the end of this VNM segment, much to Jaehee’s relief. And after he finished talking with Jaehee and Jumin, V . . .

. . . decided to enter the chat at long last. Also, I found it funny how he added an exclamation mark after “you’re here” like he was super excited to see me. Like, are you, V? We’ve spoken a grand total of one (1) time. Are you really that excited to see me?

Someone else is just as eager to see V (and he seems excited to see Seven as well, but . . .), but . . . not quite in the happy way. I also love how Seven was so “!!” about V being in the chat that he typo’d at first. I like to think that he was over in his corner, doing his work and pretending like he wasn’t paying attention to MC (when he totally was), when he noticed her bolt upright on the couch, staring at her phone with wide-eyes as she quickly typed a response. Seeing as her reaction was strange (why would she react that strongly?), Seven decided to log into the chat to see what was going on . . . and then had a similar near heart attack when he saw that V was in the chat. That’s what I like to think happened, anyway.

This cracked me up, honestly. All of this shit is going down, Saeran keeps hacking the RFA chat and broke into the apartment, there is a bomb in the apartment, etc etc, and V just:

V: [walks in 15mins late with Starbucks] “Sorry, I was in the mountains taking photographs. What’d I miss?”

Iconic.

V said that he heard from Jumin that the special security system was hacked, and that he was glad that Seven was able to make it to the apartment on time. Seven was surprised that V heard about this from Jumin, and then got angry that V called Jumin first, demanding to know why V didn’t call him. V explained that---okay, I don’t remember if I mentioned this before, so apologies if I didn’t, but in a conversation that took place before V left on his mysterious trip, Seven talked about how he gave V a new phone that had a bug detector in it. Supposedly, if the call was being tapped, a red light would come on the phone. When Seven demanded to know why V didn’t call him, V explained that the red light kept coming on every single time he tried to call Seven, hence why he chose to contact him via the messenger instead. Seven was mollified . . . though only just.

Anyway, the conversation shifted then. V made it clear that he knew that Seven was staying in the apartment, and warned Seven not to open the drawer to the desk. At that point, Seven got High Key Offended™, demanding to know why V would bring that up out of the blue, if V didn’t trust him. V said that no, that wasn’t the case---the issue was not that he didn’t trust Seven, but rather that he just felt like it should be said. Apparently, according to V, the drawer holds love letters that he had once written to Rika. Hmmm.

Seven’s not having any of that bullshit, either.

I mean, I’m literally fine. I’m not in any more danger than you are, Seven. We’re in the same boat, here. The sooner you realize that, the easier this will be for all of us.

Mmmhm. Mmhm. See, V, that sounds a lot like the backtracking of someone who realizes he fucked up and is now trying to sloppily cover it up. Unfortunately, it won’t work . . .

. . . for me. MC is another story.

This was a part where I got hella frustrated, because I was following the guide to make sure I’d get the Good End, and honestly, it’s a good thing I did, because if I chose the answer choices that I wanted to during this segment, I would have ruined my file hardcore. I wanted to accuse V of being suspicious, and to point out the fact that his backtracking was sloppy. However, that would have led to a Bad End according to the guide I was following. Instead, I had to scold Seven and tell him to listen to V, which I just . . . why? Why is siding with V the correct answer here? WHY DOES THIS GAME MAKE NO SENSE SOMETIMES?!

Anyway, so I had to act like an idiot and side with V throughout this conversation. It’s fine. Whatever.

That aside, Seven was not about to give up. V kept trying to say that Seven was misunderstanding the situation and that he would explain when he returned, but Seven . . . Seven was not about to have that. If you’ll remember, the hacker turned out to be Saeran, who is Seven’s twin brother. Seven was stricken to see Saeran like that, insisting that Rika had said that he was fine, but Saeran views Seven as a traitor. And that . . . that led to this:

(I had to pick that dumbass option for the Good Ending, don’t judge me.)

As you can see, Seven just about has a total meltdown as he demands answers from V about Saeran, and V fakes having bad service so that he can duck out of the conversation. (I mean, he might genuinely have bad service, but let’s be real. He was totally faking it to get out of the confrontation.) I think the most powerful part of this to me was the bit where Seven said, “The filthy hacking jobs that I do, why is that boy, Why is that boy, why is he doing it,” because the repetition really makes it seem as if Seven is nearing hysterics. You can practically hear his hands shaking. People repeat themselves like that when they’re getting hysterical IRL, and while that’s harder to replicate in a chat room, the fact that Cheritz had Seven do it here really emphasized the fact that he is not calm about this, he is losing his shit, this is a very serious situation to him, and V is dodging his questions and making everything worse. 

There was another VNM after that chat in which it’s revealed that, in addition to the robot puppy, Seven also made a robot cat, just as Jumin had suggested before. (Of course this is the one he brought with him. When will the cat bias end? I mean, it’s sweet, but . . .) Whereas the robot puppy was meant for security and breathed fire in order to ward off foes, the robot cat seems to have been made for companionship, and . . .

. . . senses depression.

Of course, Seven is not in the mood to be cheered up by Meowy (which, as it turns out, is the robot cat’s name), so he tells it to shut up and go sit in a corner repeatedly. Meowy refuses to give up, though, until I tell it to be quiet, at which point:

It shut down because Seven programmed it to “absolutely obey” my voice. I’m guessing he must have recorded at least one of our phone conversations to make that happen. It’s kind of sweet. I’m touched.

Anyway, once Meowy quieted itself and goes to sit in the corner as requested, Seven said that he knew it was weird to say this after he told me to ignore him, but that I should absolutely not trust V under any circumstances. Like a decent person I asked if there was anything I could do to help, and he just

Tbh, Seven, I’m never going to stop worrying about you, and it’s clearly not “nothing”, so you really should just cut the nonsense, js.

Seven went on to say that he didn’t even know why he was blabbering, and that he feels “like [he] should shut down instead of that robot.” Seven, you’re a human, not a machine; don’t talk about yourself that way. He told me not to worry about the drawer, and because I was forced to in order to get the Good Ending, I had to say that I really think there might be love letters in there, even though the contents of that drawer are very clearly not love letters, but rather are materials that no doubt prove that Rika has been the Big Bad this entire time, just as I’ve known she is. Saying that the drawer was suspicious, though, leads to a Bad End, so . . . I was forced to act like an idiot. I was forced to be a dumbass. I hate this. I hate it so much.

I especially hate it because Seven responded by calling me “innocent and naive.” Specifically:

SEVEN: “Scrawlers, you’re very innocent and naive. In this situation, I only think that you’ll be very easy for others to manipulate and exploit.”

mfw:

I may be a lot of things, but “innocent and naive” and “easily manipulated and exploited” are not labels that apply. I mean, I know it seems that way because I was forced to pick the dumbass ditz answer choice for MC to get the Good Ending, but . . . asdghdsaghdsgdsdas. I can’t help but feel that the reason why you have to pick the dumbass answer is because Generic Shoujo Heroines are supposed to be naive and innocent, because that is moe~ and cute~, but god damn, do I hate it with a passion.

And unfortunately, things didn’t get better from there. Seven went on to say that MC should forget about the RFA and everything associated with it, including The Party™.

At that point, I was given two choices:

On the plus side, that terrible first choice led to a Bad End, so I didn’t have to pick it. But in all honesty, the second choice isn’t that much better. Seven did not order MC to leave the RFA; he asked her to. He asked her to please leave as soon as the situation was stabilized, and yes, look---he used the word please. He even emphasizes that this is a choice in the next set of dialogue, albeit in a mildly insulting way at the start:

I say “mildly insulting” because while “I know much more than you” is insulting, at the same time it’s kind of true in this situation. Seven does know more about Rika and V than MC does at this point. He has known them since he was a child, and has been used and manipulated by them for just as long (though he’s only just now starting to realize that). He has also been involved with the RFA since its creation. MC, by comparison, has only been involved for a couple of days. She doesn’t have nearly the same scope of information that he does. So he’s right---he does know more than she does---but he’s still being a bit insulting with how he says that, particularly since he’s not actually giving her the chance to learn what he knows, and thus make a more informed decision on her own.

But the rest of what he says isn’t out of line. Though he is a bit insulting at first, he goes on to say that of course he can’t make decisions for her, that it’s her choice whether she wants to stay or not. However, if she chooses to stay because she wants a relationship with him, that’s off the table. That is in his power to decide, and he has decided “no.” He is giving her a hard no. He still feels that what he does is too dangerous for MC to be involved in. And you know what? That is his choice to make. He’s not doing anything wrong here. He’s giving her advice on what he thinks she should do, he’s acknowledging that he can’t make her choices for her, but he’s also saying that he does not want a relationship with her, will not consent to one, that they’ll talk through the messenger from now on and that he wants to return to his work undisturbed. Yeah, it hurts to be rejected yet again, but he’s within his rights to say no. He has every right to say no. No one is obligated to give themselves to someone else. No one is entitled to another person’s time or company.

Unfortunately . . .

LITERALLY WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THESE ANSWER CHOICES?!

Good god, they’re BOTH horrible!! The second is the most obviously awful, for the most obvious reasons---seriously, what the fuck? What the actual---cheating is never acceptable, never. Granted, it wouldn’t really be cheating in this case given that Seven has said that we are not in a relationship, therefore it isn’t possible to cheat on him---but still. But still. Cheating is never, ever okay. If you want to be with someone else while you’re in a relationship, then break up with the person you’re with. End the relationship, but don’t ever cheat. The fact that “can I cheat on you” was even an answer choice is downright revolting.

But that said, the other answer choice isn’t much better. It’s whiny, entitled, and selfish. “What do I do about my feelings for you” --- bitch, that’s your own goddamn problem, not his! It’s not Seven’s fault if you have feelings for him, any more than it would be your fault if he had feelings for you that you didn’t reciprocate! And yes, Seven does reciprocate the feelings---but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because to him, the cons outweigh the pros when it comes to pursuing a relationship at this point in time. Trying to guilt trip him into changing his mind, accusing him of being “too one-sided” as if he’s obligated to be in a relationship just because you want it, is downright wrong. If someone says “I don’t want to be in a relationship with you”, they are not being “too one-sided.” They are doing what is best for their own comfort and feelings. It doesn’t matter how much the other person wants to be with them; both people have to equally consent to be in a relationship. Only one person needs to decide to end (or not begin) it. Acting as if Seven doesn’t have that right, or as if he’s in the wrong for saying “no” just because he’s a boy / the love interest, is fucking disgusting. I was so disgusted at this that I almost threw my phone.

Unfortunately, MC has to be a selfish bint here either way, and the “what about my feelings for you” is the one that leads to the Good End (I mean, I would hope to god that “can I cheat on you” doesn’t lead anywhere good, but this is honestly a “lesser of two evils” situation), and as such, MC got the chewing out that she tbh rightly deserved:

mfw:

I’ve seen a lot of people come down on Seven for this, saying how much it hurts to have him say “I don’t care about your feelings”, among other things. And yeah, that’s harsh. However, I maintain that Seven was not in the wrong here. He was perfectly polite with MC up to this point. He told her how he felt, he reiterated for the umpteenth time that he does not want a relationship, said he was going back to work and that he didn’t want to be bothered. And what did MC do? She bothered him. Specifically, she tried to guilt him into being in a relationship with her, at which point he snapped. And that’s a justified snap. If you can see that someone doesn’t want to talk to you, and you continue to push them---and, moreover, you push them with a guilt trip, then you deserve it when they snap at you. MC brought this on herself. She was the one who tried to guilt him into being in a relationship with her. This is on her and I am on his side.

(I understand I’m not having the intended reaction here. I don’t care.)

I’ve also seen people call Seven “tsundere” for this, but I disagree with that as well. He’s not being tsuntsun, he’s being genuinely upset that MC won’t respect his boundaries and listen to him when he tells her that he doesn’t want a relationship with her. That’s not tsun, that’s normal and justified.

Of course, it doesn’t end there:

mfw:

Again, I was forced to pick that for the Good End. I don’t remember what the other answer choice was, but I can only assume it wasn’t much better.

I mean, the first half is fine. Seven is very obviously worried and freaking out at the mere idea of something happening to MC, and calling him on it isn’t wrong. But “so don’t avoid me, please?” is just so goddamn whiny, and it isn’t being considerate of his feelings at all. He’s high-key stressed, he’s worried about MC and about his twin brother who is very clearly in a bad place, he’s not sleeping, he’s barely eating . . . Seven is going through a lot right now, and all MC can do is whine about how she feels lonely and sad that he’s not being nice to her. =( What a fucking joke, honestly. It’s disgusting. I’m disgusted by this behavior. I would never treat him like that, not ever. I may not be the best person in the world, but at least I’m considerate enough to see things from the perspective of someone I care about when they’re going through a hard time instead of making it all about Me, Me, Me.

Seven, understandably, doesn’t agree to stop avoiding her.

You deserve everything in the entire world, actually. You especially deserve to be with someone who isn’t an oblivious, selfish bint, but what can we do.

Of course, MC just continues to be Sad™ because he’s insisting that they’ll never see each other again after this, and while it’s totally fair for her to feel put out by that, I find it hard to sympathize given how horribly she’s handled this entire situation. And as you could expect, the conversation doesn’t end on a happy note . . .

. . . but instead ends with Seven leaving the apartment altogether because he can’t take being around MC like this anymore. (Presumably because MC is being sad and he’s feeling guilty about it, particularly because he does have feelings, he’s just repressing them because he feels like he has to.) 

Re-writing this scene so that it’s a bit more in-line with how I imagine MC (and contains less of the “wahhh pay attention to meeee” nonsense) was a bit difficult, but I did manage it, so . . . (reminder: My MC is MC 4, so---short hair, gold eyes, et cetera.)

MC let the hand holding her phone fall to her lap. The empty chat room (empty except for her, anyway) stared up at her, and despite how quiet and still it was, it felt like it echoed. V had---he had fled. Ran away. Avoided all accusations, but in so doing basically admitted to his own guilt. She couldn’t say she was surprised, really, except---except she was. It made sense---if Rika was suspicious, if she had been up to shady things, then it made sense that her boyfriend, V, had been, too. But the one time MC had spoken to V, back when she was first pulled into this whole mess, he had seemed so nice. Appearances could be deceiving, she guessed, especially in an online chat room, but she had just gotten this feeling---

“God Seven! God Seven! I sense you are depressed, meow.”

MC blinked, and pushed herself up on her knees so that she could see over the back of the couch. Seven was still in his corner, his elbows on his knees and his face in hands, his cell phone on the floor beside him. Standing next to the phone on four shiny, white paws was a little cat, whose tail waved slowly back and forth with a faint whirr noise on each wag.

It was a cat, she realized. A little robot cat.

“I automatically turn on when I sense that you are depressed, meow,” the cat went on. Its voice was high despite the obvious computerized tone, and far more emotive than MC would have expected from a robot. Then again, MC supposed she didn’t know very much about them. “The source of God Seven’s depression is bad service, meow. I analyzed, meow.”

Well, MC thought wryly, that’s close enough.

“Shut up,” Seven said. His voice was muffled by the hands he still had over his face. His glasses were pushed up to his hairline so that he could smash his palms into his eyes.

The robot cat was not deterred. “Cheer up, meow! I, Meowy, do not lose service, meow!”

“Be quiet,” Seven said, and he lifted his face at last to turn to the robot cat---Meowy---who gave a whirring purr in response. Seven picked it up with one hand and looked on its underside, scowling as Meowy waved its paws in response to being lifted up from the floor. “How do I turn this off? Damn . . .”

“Need explaining, meow?” Meowy asked.

“I said shut up!” Seven snapped, and dropped Meowy unceremoniously back on the floor.

True to the species it was designed on, Meowy landed on its feet, undeterred by the rough treatment. “Meowy wants to hear master, meow!”

Seven groaned and put his face in his hands again, and MC stood up from the couch. She had a feeling that Seven still wouldn’t want to talk to her (especially now, given what had happened with V), but it wasn’t as if she could be any more aggravating than Meowy was apparently being at the moment. She locked her phone and slipped it into her pocket as she looped around the couch, and when she was near enough, said, “That robot . . . you made it, then.”

Seven took a deep breath---slow inhale, slow exhale. He then dropped his hands back into his lap, his glasses slightly askew on the bridge of his nose, and said quietly, “Don’t worry about it.” He opened his eyes to glare at Meowy, who was still staring at him expectantly. “Hey, robot cat. Go away. I don’t want to talk to you, so just go to a corner.”

Meowy didn’t budge. “I can’t leave once I sense depression, meow! Cheer up, meow!”

Seven gritted his teeth, his hands balling into fists on his lap, and MC---sensing danger---bent down and scooped Meowy up off the floor.

“Meowy,” she said, “let’s stay quiet for now, okay?”

Meowy chirruped, not unlike a cat that had spotted a bird, and then purred again. “That’s a voice I have to absolutely obey due to my programming, meow. Shutting down, meow.”

MC stared at the robot in her arms as the purring whirred down into silence, and its blue eyes went dark. Once it was deactivated, MC looked back at Seven, feeling more than a little bewildered.

“You programmed it to obey my voice?”

It could have been her imagination, or maybe the lighting, or maybe both, but it looked like Seven’s cheeks tinted red. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter,” he muttered. He took another deep breath and released it, closing his eyes once more as he leaned his head back against the wall. “At least it’s finally quiet.”

It did matter, MC thought, whether Seven programmed a robot to respond to her voice (and how had he done that, anyway? Had he recorded some of their phone conversations?), but she supposed it wasn’t the most important thing to discuss right then. She sat Meowy on the floor behind the couch before she walked back over to Seven, and sat on the floor near enough so they could talk, but not so close that she’d be invading his space.

“Hey, so . . . that whole thing with V was kind of a mess,” she said. “Things didn’t go well at all. Want to talk about it?”

Seven huffed a humorless laugh, and without looking at her said, “Not really. But . . .”

MC raised her eyebrows. “But?”

Seven looked over at her at last, chewing the inside of his cheek a moment before he said, “I know it’s funny to say all this after I told you to stop paying attention to me, but whatever happens . . . don’t trust what V says.”

“Yeah, I kinda got the feeling that he was dodging stuff back there,” MC said. Seven nodded, and looked back at his laptop monitors. “God only knows why, but . . . anyway, it’s not like I talk to him a whole lot, anyway. I’ve only talked to him, what, once or twice before? So unless something big happens with RFA, it’s not like we’ll be chatting much anyway, probably.”

Seven snorted, and tugged on his headphone wire. “God,” he said. “RFA.” He was quiet a second before he said, “I think you shouldn’t be more involved with RFA.”

That came out of nowhere. “What? Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” Seven asked. He gestured vaguely with his hand. “Look at all of this. Look at the mess you’re in. You look at this, and then you still have to ask that?”

“This is because of Rika---and V, I guess,” MC said. “Jaehee, Jumin---the others have nothing to do with it. And neither do you, really.”

Seven gave her a dumbfounded look. “Have you forgotten who installed the bomb in the first place?”

“No. I also haven’t forgotten who saved me from its detonation,” MC shot back.

Seven shook his head and rolled his eyes, and looked straight ahead again. MC followed his gaze to a desk on the other side of the room.

“V told me not to open the drawer because there’s something in there,” he said. “An alarm will ring if someone like you opens the drawers or one of the cabinets.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“But I can control all the alarms, so if I want to, I can see everything. I’m sure he logged in because he heard that I’m here and got nervous about something.”

“Makes sense,” MC said. “So why don’t we open the drawers and take a look?”

Seven didn’t look at her. He kept his eyes trained on the desk, chewing the inside of his cheek. At length, he said, “I will someday . . . but not right now.”

“Why not?”

“I’m sure there’s something that an RFA member should never see . . . and it’s hard enough for me to keep sane right now given how my trust in V is shattered. I need time.”

“Understandable,” MC said. They were both quiet again, Seven still staring at the desk across the room, and after a moment MC asked quietly, “But, hey . . . are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help? Even if it’s just getting you a drink or something. You look like you could use one.”

Even before she finished speaking, Seven was shaking his head, and he closed his eyes. “It’s nothing,” he said, and that was one of the biggest lies MC thought she had ever heard. “God, I made you worry again . . .”

“Seven, I’ve been consistently worried about you for days now,” MC said. “This doesn’t change that.”

Seven gave her a sharp look. “You shouldn’t be. I’m not worth worrying about.”

“Agree to disagree,” MC said.

Seven gave her a frustrated look for only a moment before he tore his eyes away. Once more, he scrubbed his hands up his face. “God. I feel like I should shut down instead of that cat.”

“Sleep would be good,” MC said. “You really look like you could use it. Want to take the bed?”

“No. It’s late. You’ll need to go to sleep soon. You should probably already be in bed, actually.”

“Look who’s talking,” MC said, and Seven rolled his eyes. “I can sleep on the couch, I don’t mind. Or the bed’s big enough for both of us, if you won’t freak out about sharing.”

“I can sleep on the floor,” Seven said. “Right over there by Meowy.”

“If you want to sleep by Meowy so bad, I’ll put him in the bed,” MC said. “Then you two can snuggle and have a great slumber party.”

“Why are you being so difficult?” Seven snapped.

“Why are you?” MC snapped back.

They glared at each other for a few seconds, and only after Seven seemed to realize she wouldn’t back down did he look away, loosing another sigh before he opted to change the subject instead of continuing their argument.

“Whatever. Look, just . . . don’t worry about the drawer. I’ll take care of it.”

“I never had any doubt about that,” MC said. “It’s not the drawer I’m worried about. It’s you.”

Seven shot her a frustrated look. “Don’t worry about me. I already said---”

“I know what you said,” MC interrupted, “and I don’t care. You can control a lot of things, Seven, but how I feel is not one of them. I’m going to care and worry about you whether you like it or not.”

“So you care about me, yet somehow you don’t care when I’m telling you to stop?”

“I don’t care to buy into the lie that everything’s fine and you’re okay when you’re obviously not,” MC said, and Seven tossed up one hand before he let it fall back to his side. “You need help, Seven. I don’t know what kind of help you need, but you need something. I’m beginning to think everyone in RFA does, actually. This is one of the most drama-filled charity organizations I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Not that I’ve been involved with a lot of charity organizations before, but---”

“Why don’t you just forget the RFA?” Seven said. “Forget everything related to RFA. The members, the party---forget it all.”

“Uh, that’s going to be kind of hard considering I’ve been the one coordinating all these e-mails and party invites,” MC said. “Not to mention the fact that I’m pretty sure Yoosung might have a meltdown if I say the show’s over that suddenly, but---why?”

“You’ll only be in danger by staying in some place like this,” Seven said, and this time MC rolled her eyes. The danger again. Of course. “So as soon as the hacker issue is solved, please leave.”

“Believe it or not,” MC said dryly, “this apartment is probably safer than where I was staying before, bomb and all. It’s definitely a lot nicer. It has running water and everything.”

Seven furrowed his brow. “Where were you staying before?”

Fuck was what she wanted to say, because it was honest even if it wouldn’t answer his question. She cared about him---thought she loved him, probably, as much as she had ever loved anyone, anyway. But despite that, or maybe because of it, she still wasn’t ready to divulge her past with him. She still wasn’t ready to tell him where she had been before, or what she had been doing . . . why she had decided to take up residence in Rika’s apartment even though party planning wasn’t one of her life callings.

So instead of answering his question, she said, “Why don’t you tell me, Mr Genius Hacker?” She snorted. “I knew you didn’t really do a background check.”

Seven glared at her. “Don’t be so sure,” he said, and in truth she wasn’t, but she also knew that any background checks he did wouldn’t have turned up much of anything. “I just didn’t want to invade your privacy. I told you, I was only looking into you before to make sure you were safe, on V’s orders.”

“Well, no worries about that. I’m perfectly safe. Totally legit. On the up-and-up.” MC touched two fingers to her heart, and then held them up. “Scout’s honor.”

Seven eyed her for a second before he said, “You’re not a scout.”

“Guilty as charged,” she said, and grinned. His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “But seriously, this is a definite upgrade from where I was before, even if it’s not permanent. I’m safe enough right where I am, especially since you’re here. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Seven sucked in a breath, and looked down at his laptop again. He was quiet for a long moment, and just when MC thought that he was going to go back to ignoring her (which would be fine, in a sense, especially since this was the longest and most pleasant conversation they had had in the apartment yet), he said, “You’re free to do whatever you want. But my thoughts will not change.”

MC felt her heart pick up speed in her chest, but in the unpleasant way that came right before an unwarranted visit from the police or realizing that someone had just picked her pocket. “Meaning?”

“Meaning that even if you try to get involved with me, I’ll refuse,” he said. “This isn’t something a person like you should be involved in.”

Hearing that he didn’t want to be with her---again---hurt, even if it wasn’t surprising. Rejections worked that way, she guessed. No matter how many times you were rejected, it never took the sting off. But with the sting came a flash of annoyance, particularly since she felt she hadn’t done a single damn thing to warrant the rejection this time.

“If you don’t want to be with me, fine, I get it,” she snapped. “I never even said that I was doing this to be with you, so thanks for assuming. But if you could do me a favor and stop acting like I’m weak and helpless, that’d be great.”

Seven locked his jaw, and didn’t look at her. “I never said you were weak and helpless.”

“That’s how you’re acting,” she said. “‘This isn’t something for a person like you to be involved in’ --- a person like me? What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that you’re pure, and innocent, and naïve, and you don’t understa---”

“I don’t understand? You’re the one making a hell of a lot of assumptions about me with no basis to go on!” MC snapped, and once again they were glaring at each other. MC didn’t care. “Where the hell did you get the idea that I’m pure, innocent, or naïve?”

“You don’t know anything about this situation,” Seven said. “You don’t know the truth about V, or me, or---or any of it. That’s naivete---ignorance.”

“It’s ignorance that isn’t my fault. How am I supposed to know anything if I haven’t been told? And I know,” she said, holding up one hand as he opened his mouth to fire back, “that it’s none of my business, but I don’t think it’s fair for you to hold it against me, either.”

“I’m not holding anything against you,” Seven bit out. “I’m trying to protect---”

“Maybe I don’t need as much protection as you think I do,” MC said. “Maybe I can take care of myself. Maybe I’m not some braindead, helpless child that can’t understand things or handle tough situations. I don’t know a lot about you, Seven. You’re right. But you don’t know a lot about me, either, so maybe stop acting like you do.”

Heavy silence hung between them. She regretted what she said almost as soon as she said it; no doubt he was pissed, or hurt, or maybe rethinking whatever it was he felt about her, and not in a good way. But before she could try to smooth over what she had spat in anger, Seven looked back at his laptop.

“Let’s just stop talking about this,” he said. “From now on, if I have to tell you anything concerning your safety, I’ll do it through the messenger, so . . . that’s that.”

MC was filled with a heavy, hollow sort of defeat, and her shoulders sagged. “Yeah,” she said. “That’s that.”

“I’m going to get back to work,” he said. His voice was still even, but it somehow sounded just as empty as MC felt. “So don’t bother me.”

“Fine.”

Once again silence fell over them, though this time it was broken a few seconds later by the sound of Seven clicking his mouse, and then putting his fingers to the keys. He was a fast typist; he didn’t so much as glance at the keyboard, yet he typed so quickly it was as if his fingers were gliding over the keyboard instead of actually pressing the keys down. The sound of the keys clacking was like raindrops on a windowpane. It felt too awkward to go back to the couch, now, and the weight of what she had said before was still rooted in her gut. This conversation, like so many before it, had ended on a bad note. And that had been the norm for the past couple of days, and she knew that, but she still couldn’t let it go.

So after another couple seconds of silence punctuated only by swift typing, MC said, “Just so you know, this---this doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change how I feel. I still care about you, a lot. Regardless of anything that’s happened, or anything that could happen . . . you still mean a lot, and are still very important to me. I just want you to know that.”

Seven had stopped typing the second she had spoken up, and when she finished, he slammed his hands down at the base of his laptop. Despite herself, MC jumped.

“I told you not to bother me!” Seven snapped, and he looked up to glare fiercely at her. “What part of that didn’t you understand?!”

“I wasn’t---!” MC began, but as he raised his eyebrows, she felt her shoulders sag, giving him the point. “Okay, I’m sorry. I should have left you alone. But I just wanted to let you know how I feel, because---”

“I don’t care about your feelings!” Seven snapped. “And I never asked---”

“Well, I care about yours!” MC snapped back, and that brought him up short. He stared at her, eyes wide, and MC curled her fingers into fists. “You think I don’t get that you don’t care about my feelings, Seven? After how you’ve been the past few days, ever since you got here---after you didn’t so much as look happy even for a second once we finally met in person, you think I haven’t gotten the message that you don’t care yet? ‘Cause trust me, I’ve got it. Loud and clear. You care about my safety, yeah. You care about my body, my life, whether I’m breathing or not. But you don’t care about me.”

He looked stricken. “That’s---that’s not---!”

“And that’s fine,” she said, and she raised her voice a little speak over him. She was shaking so bad she could feel her teeth rattling, but that was the adrenaline. She wouldn’t let it stop her. “It’s fine, I---I don’t care if you don’t care about me, that’s fine, it’s whatever, I can live with it. But that’s not going to stop me from caring about you. I care about you. I---like you, a lot, a---a whole hell of a lot. And whether you like me back or whatever doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change how I feel. So I wanted you to know, not because I want or expect you to do anything about it, but just so you know that there’s someone, however unimportant, who cares about you. There’s a lot of people, actually, I think, given RFA, but---whatever. Point is, I care. And if you need me, I’m here for however long this lasts.”

MC stood up.

“I’m . . . I’m going to go lay down for a bit. Clear my head. That sort of thing,” she said. “But if you need anything, just . . . come get me.”

Seven said nothing. The conversation was over, and MC couldn’t decide whether she was relieved for that or not.

But when she went back to the bedroom, she only just made it inside the door before she heard the sound of shuffling equipment. Quietly, so as not to let him know that she had noticed, MC looked around the doorway to the bedroom in time to see him gathering his laptop and other equipment in his arms. He didn’t so much as glance in her direction, nor was he very careful with the equipment he was moving. Instead, he piled cords and his wireless mouse on top of his laptop keyboard, balanced that on the crook of his arm, and then headed to the front door.

He stepped aside, and let the door shut behind him, without looking back once.

MC sighed heavily, and walked back to the bed, flopping back on it as she had told him she would. She didn’t expect him to go far; whatever she had snapped about him not caring about her (which wasn’t really true, she knew, and she felt bad, but she was hurt and angry and---), she knew he did. Probably he was sitting just outside the door, in the hallway, regretting his choice to go out since the wifi was worse in the hall than it was in the apartment. Then again, maybe he had his laptop rigged to get choice signal wherever he was. It wouldn’t surprise her.

She didn’t know what to do. When this was over---she had figured the party would be pretty basic, and that she’d be let go once it was done. She’d be free to return to that little studio apartment she had been squatting in, provided it wasn’t already taken by some other drifter, or rented out by the landlord. Or maybe RFA would have wanted to keep her as a party coordinator, and maybe she could have found a way to help one of them get her a job and an apartment. Jumin would probably hire her. She didn’t know what she could do, but maybe Elizabeth the 3rd could use a more dedicated pet-sitter. It’d probably make Seven happy, if his girlfriend was cat-sitting Elly. Then again, dating Seven would probably disqualify her.

Not that they were dating. They weren’t. They never would, unless Seven’s mind changed, and she doubted that was going to happen any time soon. She rolled over on her side, glaring at the wall.

It was fine, she didn’t care---well, she did care, but she wasn’t---she didn’t need him to like her back. She had been on her own for long enough before this, and she could continue on this way. But everything felt like it was spinning out of control, and she wanted to help. She wanted to be there for him. And though she had always been alone before, it was different now. It wasn’t just that she was alone; it was that she was now aware of a space beside her that should have been filled, but wasn’t, and now that she was aware of the empty space, she couldn’t ignore it.

Her phone beeped. She shifted just enough so that she could pull it free from her pocket, and when she unlocked the screen, she saw that Jaehee and Yoosung were in the chat. No doubt Yoosung would have more than a few words to say about what V had done, and none of them nice. For once, MC didn’t think she could be very annoyed by whatever tantrum she was about to walk into.

She sighed, and tapped her screen to open the chat.

[poketin]

That’s Why I’m Not Alone

For Asagao’s 1 year anniversary, I decided to write a little thing about Mimi and her thoughts after she’s been “reformed” so to speak by Hana, Mai, and Kakusu. The four of them becoming an unstoppable team of superb friendship and how Mimi feels about these changes. It’s Mimi and Mai talking in what I hope is an interesting and maybe even thought provoking way.

Thank you, Asagao, for once again inspiring me and helping me through tough times. (Also I put a read more because it’s a teeny bit long!)

The melancholy mood over the school grounds would take a bit to dissipate at this rate, thought Mimi as she stood over the hill trying to ignore the evening chill.

There had been tears at the ceremony as expected, none from her of course, but her friends had had enough for the whole lot of them. It twisted her heart in ways that she would have never thought to be thankful for only a year ago. The fact that other people had this hold over her, that they could influence her and elevate her into someone new…

It felt right.

Wind blew through Mimi’s perfectly sculpted locks, and anyone standing near her would have ducked for cover from her rage had she not been alone. Normally she would be pissed, swearing audibly as her hard hours-long work in front of the mirror was ruined by the archnemesis of fabulousness…nature.

But, for some reason, she didn’t feel like it.

She stood looking at the melting sunset of reds and oranges and pinks, her lip curling and gut churning at some unwelcome thought that she couldn’t really place where or why it had come.

Stupid graduation.

She didn’t understand why she was so upset, it’s not like anyone super close to her had graduated or anything. But seeing Hana’s face as she watched some of the Normal Boots guys get their names called…

At least she had proved to herself she wasn’t heartless at that point, which was enough.

“What’s going on up here, Santos?”

Mimi turned her head slightly to look at the redhead standing behind her clad in an admittedly stunning emerald cocktail dress.

It wasn’t on par with Mimi’s own ivory snow sheath dress, but she looked good. Second place to herself was no small feat after all.

As she was mentally preening, a buffet of wind tore through the girls and slapped them both in the face with their hair. Mimi hissed and swiftly slapped back at the offender, her face reddening as she heard her companion giggle. She looked up with an acid quip dying on her tongue as she took in Mai extending a comb to her, her eyes twinkling.

“Thanks,” Mimi mumbled as she snatched it and hurriedly fixed everything up as Mai stared out at their shared sunset.

There was a pause as they soaked in the silence, Mimi clutching the comb close to her beating heart and scavenging for words that wouldn’t be immediately suffocated under the current atmosphere.

“You’ve changed.”

Mimi shifted to look at her friend as Mai grinned lopsidedly. “As a person, I mean.”

“I don’t think pink is the color of the devil anymore.” She backtracked at Mimi’s smirk. “Not Hana-pink. I meant your pink, like your eyes. Can’t even try to be all poetic and shit around Santos the snooty-pants.” She huffed through a smile and walked over so she could throw an arm around Mimi’s shoulder.

“You’re different than before, like even before when we were friends for a time. Unless my bullshit radar is off or you’re the best actress in the world, you don’t fake everything like you used to.”

They leaned into each other and Mimi felt another lurch in her chest as she listened to Mai breathe. It’s not like I was ALWAYS fake before… But Mai wasn’t entirely wrong and it didn’t matter too much now.

It was in the past.

“I really think you’ve become a better person, Mimi. And we all know who we can thank for that.”

Mimi felt eyes burning in the side of her head. “I mean it wasn’t just her…” She looked away and sighed. “I know, I know. I’ll make sure to buy her a car or something as a thank you.”

Mai mock gasped and aimed a slap at her arm. “And let you one-up my gift giving skills? Fuck that. But seriously, just talk to her okay? I know you’ve apologized and all and have probably had a couple 3 am heart-to-hearts but…”

It was Mai’s turn to avoid a probing gaze.

“Don’t let Hana doubt this, okay?”

Mimi snorted. “I’ve learned my lesson like three times over.” She winced at the slight hitch in her voice and cleared her throat, deciding to confront these feelings she had been so keen on avoiding.

“Mai…”

The aforementioned girl laced their fingers together, prompting Mimi to continue.

“You really meant what you said? About how I’ve changed?” Her voice trembled ever so slightly but she barreled on. The sooner it was out, the better.

“I know I’ve been a…a pretty big bitch. I thought it was safer, that it was easier that way.” She hiccuped and wiped at her itchy nose. Since when had she been crying? Mai pulled her into a hug and the tension in Mimi’s shoulders disappeared almost immediately as she leaned into it.

“And this friendship thing hurts, a lot. Almost as much as the biting loneliness at times.” She giggled through her tears. “I mean my chest has been hurting like all day and I don’t even know why. But…I don’t mind this pain. I’m feeling something and something’s like, affecting me. I care about something…about a few someones so much that the thought of them brightens my world. And the thought of them leaving almost kills me.”

Mai’s grip tightened even and Mimi didn’t feel so unsure anymore.

“I’m not going to screw this up, Mai. You girls are honestly the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’ve even helped me get closer to Kakusu, the only friend that I’ve ever truly had before this if I’m being honest. And I can’t thank you all enough for how you’ve helped me.”

She smiled sincerely but then pulled back to point at Mai’s face. “But listen to me, Sasaki, this doesn’t mean I’m going to be all smiles and sugar. I’m more of a sour type of girl and sass is my middle name. Remember that.”

They unattached from each other completely and looked around at the inky blue that had crept up on them. The days were really flying by.

“Why don’t we head back to the party? I’m sure the guys have no doubt roped Hana into some kind of mischief.”

“The bathroom first,” Mimi sniffed as she floofed up her hair. “My beauty takes effort, you know.”

“Yeah a whole lot, I bet.” Mai sprinted down the hill as her cheeky laughter reverberated around them, Mimi rolling her eyes with a smile and following at a much more reasonable pace. She couldn’t wait for what the next year would bring.

There was time before their own walk on the stage after all.

[i-write-shakespeare-not-disney]

Warm Me Up pt 26

Click Here for Ch. 1

Click Here for Ch. 25

I figured since I got 100 notes on the last chapter it was fine to upload a new one :3 Please give feedback guys, I want your thoughts on this too <3

It was a bad day again. Nico had been waiting for it. While being with Will kept his spirits up, he felt complacent and uncertain when he was alone. He had been waiting for that rise or fall of emotions and now it was there.

This time it seemed to mock him though. While he just wanted to appreciate having Will back in his life and spending time with him, whether for a few moments while getting coffee or for a few hours as they walked around the campus and talked, his mind immediately darkened it all. Instead of the joy, the murkier, painful thoughts began to rise.

He thought back to those first months, when every night had been filled with Will’s warmth or kisses shared under covers and in the confines of his car or the times when Nico felt like he was falling apart and Will had held him together. He thought of all of those moments and felt reminded of the fact that he was so screwed up he couldn’t hold on to it. He had messed up and now they weren’t there anymore. Now they had to start over and it was all his fault.

Instead of looking back on those moments with fondness, he was looking back on them with bitterness. Why weren’t they happening anymore? Why did he have to be so fucked up that he hurt the one person he ever truly trusted and loved? And how long would he have to fight?

Not only that, but if those frustrating, self deprecating thoughts were running through his head again, who was to say Will wasn’t right and he’d just go and do it again when he was given a chance? What if he was unfixable?

The thoughts, the questions, the frustration all stirred in his brain until he felt he was going to explode. He left the dorm, cigarettes and journal in hand, and raced to the seating area in front of the café. The smell of smoke was strong despite the late hour, and the soft light that had been added gave Nico enough to pour over his lyrics. He lit a cigarette and tried to either muffle his thoughts with song or at least pour them all out onto paper.

His writing was messy, frantic even. He just wanted the thoughts gone. In the back of his head, he knew the gas station was across the street. He knew he wouldn’t be asked for an ID. He knew there was an easy way to shut the voices up, a simple way to just stop thinking.

He was rooted to the chair, debating with himself. Did he want to backtrack so quickly? No. But he wanted the rush of thoughts to stop and he wanted to stop tearing himself down when he was already trying so hard to fix himself. He flinched as the ash from his cigarette fell against his arm, scorching the skin.

“Shit,” he muttered.

“Nico?” He looked up and felt his cheeks warm almost immediately. “You okay? You look stressed.” Just like that, the frustrated rush of thoughts stopped. All he could think of now were those pretty blue eyes and the splatter of cinnamon colored freckles and the gentle reflection of light at the ends of his golden hair.

“I’m okay,” he said in a voice very much not okay. He cleared his throat and frowned. “I’m okay,” he repeated with a more convincing voice. He put out his cigarette and stood. “Sorry. I know you don’t like the smell.”

Will smiled and shook his head. “It’s okay. I was heading over to the library actually. I have a project I need to do.”

“Oh,” he said with a tinge of disappointment. “Well, have fun,” he offered feebly.

Will furrowed his eyebrows and set his stuff down on the table. “What’s wrong?” Nico tried to say nothing, but the word caught in his throat. Instead, he shrugged and shook his head. “Nico, remember friends help each other. Can you let me help you?”

“You’re always helping me. That’s what got us into this mess in the first place,” he muttered. Will’s eyes widened and Nico’s lips parted as he tried to figure out a way to take it back. “Uh, no, I mean…. I didn’t mean it like…. He pressed his hands to the sides of his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “Shit I’m doing it again.”

“Nico?”

“I have to go. I should go. I’ll be okay. I’m sorry.” He turned away and started running for his room.

The expression on his face worried Will and part of him wanted to run after Nico. But he also knew him well enough to know Nico wouldn’t tell Will what was happening. So instead he sent him a message.

Let me know if you need anything. I’ll check on you if you don’t get back to me.

Before turning away, he saw that Nico had left his journal on the table. He took it and placed it carefully with his own books. He started to walk back to the library, but then he heard his name get called out. When he turned he saw Leo with Piper and Jason, leaving the café. He broke away from them and walked over to Will with an expression that was oddly serious. “Hey. What’s up?” he asked Will.

“Uh, not much. I’m going to the library to do a project. I ran into Nico just now, and he seemed upset.”

“Speaking of Nico,” he said, immediately latching onto that. Will groaned internally, but only raised an eyebrow. “What’s… what’s going on there? He said something about you guys being friends now.”

“Yeah, we are,” he said with a smile.

“Okay. But… I mean…. Are you guys supposed to get back together? Is there like an allotted time or a build up or-?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” he answered, feeling uncomfortable with the amount of questions. He could barely keep track of what was happening between Nico and himself, there was no way he would be able to answer the questions Leo was throwing at him.

Leo frowned and began cracking his knuckles absentmindedly. “I’m just trying to…. Okay look, to Nico, this his second shot at dating you. A redo. I’m just asking if that’s how you see it too, or if you plan on seeing other people…?”

It felt like a bucket of ice water had been doused over his head, soaking him completely and chilling him to his core. The blood drained from his face as he stared at Leo warily. “Um…. Well, I mean I hang out with Nico a lot. It’s not as often, but I mean I guess the option is there…. It just really I guess sort of depends on how this all goes, you know? There’s a lot that happened and a lot to sort of w-”

“Will, I saw you at the theater with some guy and it wasn’t Nico and there was kissing and I don’t know what to do with this information!” Will’s eyes widened and his cheeks flared while his mind raced with profanities. Leo seemed to deflate and he ran his hand through his curls. “Look man, Nico is my friend. We’re not super tight, but he is my friend, and I really-”

“Leo stop,” he begged. He glanced over his shoulder where Jason and Piper were looking over at them curiously. Then he pulled Leo aside and rubbed his face. “Leo, please don’t say anything about that. Like ever. I didn’t tell anyone that was even happening. That wasn’t going anywhere.” He sighed and sat down on a bench. “Leo, I really, really care about Nico. I… I don’t know how it happened, but I did fall for him, and I fell hard.” He looked at Leo helplessly. “Please, Nico can’t find out about that. At least not yet. Not when things are finally getting better between the two of us. That guy just kept bugging me about a date so I went to get him to stop, I wasn’t expecting a kiss and I… I didn’t like it.”

“Bad kisser?” he asked sympathetically.

Will stared at him and shook his head. “Oh God,” he muttered. “No. I mean, I don’t know. It’s just…. I couldn’t stop thinking about Nico. Leo, I don’t know where this is going any more than you do, but I would like to find out. So please, can you just keep it quiet?”

Leo sighed and kicked at the ground. “Okay. Yeah, I can do that. I’m sorry if I… cornered you or something.” Will waved the comment away and took a relieved breath. “I’ll let you study. And… I’m rooting for you guys. If that means anything. I think we all are. We never saw Nico as happy as the way he was when he was with you.”

“Thanks,” he said softly. Leo walked away and Will continued to the library, hoping to forget the awkwardness of the entire encounter.

When he arrived, he found a table on the second floor, hidden behind bookcases where few people ventured. He sat there and pulled out Nico’s journal. He didn’t want to read through it. He knew every lyric was personal to him. Even when they were dating Nico hadn’t let him see the songs.

But there was one song he wanted to see. He hadn’t heard it in a long time; he at least wanted to read it. He was careful to keep his eyes on the titles, his curiosity peaking when he saw more intriguing ones. But he waited until he got to that familiar song and smiled to himself as he looked at the scribbled words.

For a few moments, he was back in the café with Nico singing in front of him, smiling at him, looking at him like he was the most important person in the world. The memories made his heart warm and he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He missed Nico.

Ignoring the project that was looming over him, he put the journal back with his books and left the library. He went to Nico’s dorm and knocked on the door of his room. There was no answer. He knocked again and waited but there was still no answer.

Before he could knock again, the door across from Nico’s opened. “Are you knocking on my door?” a girl asked.

“Oh, no. Sorry. I’m knocking on this one….”

She frowned and pointed at the door. “You’re looking for the shaggy haired dude? He’s not in there. When I came up to my room, I saw him leaving, taking the stairs like two at a time.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you,” he said. The girl nodded and went back into her room. He turned away and went out to the parking lot. Nico’s motorcycle was missing.

Knowing the way Nico could act when he was upset, Will felt more than a little worried. Nico had said time and time again that it was no longer Will’s job to worry, but Will couldn’t help it any more than he could help how in love with Nico he was.

He got in his car and drove over to the dirt road Nico seemed to love so much. He parked and walked slowly toward the clearing where he saw Nico walking back and forth… with a clear bottle in one hand.

The thoughts wouldn’t stop. They were overlapping, screaming, jumbling together, one angry thought after the other. The weight of the vodka bottle was the only thing anchoring him to where he was.

He hadn’t opened it. Hell he could barely bring himself to look at it.

Part of him wanted to drink it just to slow the thoughts racing through his mind. He wanted to prove to himself how pointless his attempt at getting better was. He wanted to prove to himself how pathetic and useless he was, and how much better Will was without him because he was such a mess of a person.

But the other part wouldn’t let him. He didn’t want to backtrack. He didn’t want to be right. He wanted to get better and he wanted to be better for Will. He wanted to stop doing all of the things that reminded him how much he could hate himself.

He’d bought the stupid thing, but he hadn’t opened it. He kept going back and forth, testing his own strength, seeing how far he could stretch himself before he succumbed.

“Nico?” He froze and looked up, seeing Will, looking crestfallen as he walked nearer. “What are you doing?”

Nico couldn’t talk. He didn’t trust himself. He felt that if he opened his mouth, he would start screaming. Instead, he kept his eyes on Will.

“Nico, give me the bottle.” He didn’t move. He just stood there, trying to breathe, trying to stop thinking, trying not to scream. “Nico,” he said softly, reaching forward. Nico didn’t move. He felt the warmth of Will’s hand slide around his own, prying the bottle from his palm.

It felt like strings had been cut. His shoulders slumped and he ducked his head in shame.

“You didn’t open it,” he said with heavy relief. Nico glanced up and furrowed his eyebrows. He placed the bottle by a tree and tugged Nico by his arm to another where he had him sit. Without saying a word, he sat down beside him.

Will’s warmth beside him was calming. Knowing that he knew him well enough to find him, knowing that he cared enough to sit beside him without even knowing what was wrong exactly made Nico’s heart swell. It made him love him even more.

He wanted to rest his head against Will’s shoulder. He wanted the warmth of Will’s freckled hand in his own. He wanted to climb into his lap and have Will wrap his arms around him. He wanted to lean his head in the crook of his neck, rest his hand over his chest until Will’s steady heartbeat steadied his own. He wanted to kiss him until every other thought was gone and all he could think of was the taste of his lips.

But he couldn’t do that anymore.

Instead, he tried to allow himself to be comforted by the pressure of Will’s shoulders against his, by the soft sounds of his breaths.

For a while, they just sat there in silence. Slowly, Nico’s mind quieted. The rush was over. Now he felt ridiculous. For buying the vodka, for pacing, for panicking, for having Will come all the way out here. He leaned forward and put his head in his hands.

“Do you want to go get some coffee? Starbucks, not the rip off crap from campus,” Will said, breaking the silence. Nico glanced over at him and Will tilted his head. “As friends.”

Still not trusting his voice, he nodded slowly and stood as Will did. He hesitated by his motorcycle and scratched his head. “You should take that back to campus. I’ll follow and then we can carpool,” he offered.

Nico nodded and climbed onto his bike, starting the engine. Will grabbed the bottle and nodded at Nico as he went back to his car.

A few minutes later, after Nico pulled into the parking lot and parked his motorcycle, Will’s car pulled up. Nico slid into the passenger seat without talking, vaguely wondering what Will did with the vodka. Soft classic love ballads played while Will drove.

Nico took a breath as Will parked and looked over at him as he turned off the engine. “Thank you,” he said.

“He speaks,” Will said with a smile. Then the smile melted away. “Why’d you buy the bottle?”

He shrugged and frowned at the dashboard. “I was debating whether or not it was worth it. I don’t know what I would’ve ended up deciding if you hadn’t arrived.” He took a breath and looked at shook his head. “It’s just one of those bad days.”

Will nodded and reached for the backseat, fumbling for a while before he sat back. Then he handed Nico a journal and he realized it was his song book. “You left this when you left earlier. I didn’t read anything in it.”

“Really?” he asked.

His face colored slightly and he cleared his throat. “Well, I mean, I just… I read one.” Nico looked at him, but he was looking away. “The song from the café. The… one you wrote for me.”

“Oh,” he said. “That’s okay,” he assured. “Thank you for keeping it safe for me.” Will nodded and began chewing on his thumb. Nico pulled his hand away by his wrist and scoffed. “You don’t have to get nervous,” he murmured.

Bright blue eyes settled on him, causing his breath to hitch. “I’m not,” he answered softly. “It’s just… memories.”

Nico furrowed his eyebrows and slid his fingers from Will’s wrist to his knuckles. “I know. Me too.” Will’s eyes flitted to their hands and he blinked rapidly as he pulled his hand away. “Will…”

“No, it’s okay.” He looked at Nico and smiled. “Really. It’s alright. Let’s not get into this right now. Come on, I’ll pay.” Will took another look at Nico before getting out of the car. It took Nico a second to process, but he eventually got out of the car as well, figuring it best to drop it and not have the same conversation again.

It was awkward for a few moments as they walked. When they got inside and ordered, Will sat across from him at a small table and interlocked his hands. “Have you been able to catch up with school?”

Nico stared at him and smiled as he looked down at the table.

As if by magic, the pain and stress of the day melted away and he was okay. He talked leisurely with Will about unimportant things, marveled at his ability to keep Nico from sinking into the depths of his mind, and felt his affection increase more with each passing moment.

Somehow it felt more real. Without being able to simply lean forward and kiss him as he pleased, every moment mattered. Every moment was cherished.

There was so much to work on. Nico had to work on himself. Will had to be able to trust Nico with his feelings. They had to learn to be with each other again. And it would take time. Nico didn’t know how much time, but if it meant he’d have Will in his arms again one day, he didn’t care. He would try.

Slowly but surely, Will saw the change in Nico’s eyes. The pained, guarded expression slowly melted into those warm brown eyes he loved so much, brighter as he smiled and began speaking with his hands. A million butterflies erupted in his stomach each time Nico smiled or laughed. He had a habit of pushing his tongue behind his teeth and Will found it endearing. He also kept his hand busy by folding the straw paper over and over then unfolding it.

After another hour of talking, the two of them returned to the car and drove back to campus. Will parked in the main garage since the lot near his dorm was full. Together, they walked along the sidewalk, hands in their pockets.

Before having to split ways, Nico turned to Will and smiled. “Thank you. It’s not up to you to be sure I’m okay. But I’m thankful you still do.”

Will shook his head and smiled. “You do realize how much I care about you, right? It doesn’t matter if it’s not my responsibility.” Nico took a deep breath and slight blush filled his cheeks, much to Will’s delight. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Yeah. And… I’m sorry I bought that… vodka…. I promise I’m trying-”

“Nico, relax,” Will said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Things don’t change from one day to the next. You didn’t drink. That was a step. Stop being so hard on yourself.” Nico nodded and hesitated. “What?”

“I just….” He bit his lip and ran his hand through his hair. “Would a hug be okay?” he asked softly.

Will raised his eyebrows and smiled as his cheeks warmed. Without another word, he wrapped his arms around Nico and Nico’s came up, his hands resting on his shoulders. Nico’s head leaned into the crook of his neck, facing away. He felt familiar. Will didn’t want to let go.

He held him tightly, feeling as Nico took a deep breath. He began to pull away and Will allowed his arms to loosen and fall back to his sides. “I’ll see you later,” he whispered. He turned away and began to walk while Will simply stared after him.

Click Here for Ch. 27

[sending-the-message]

Meatbots (part 3) by molotok_c_518

(WARNING: The "series" flair doesn't allow for any other warnings, so be advised... there is graphic violence and harsh language present. If this bothers you, look away.)

Part 2.

Right now, I'm standing on the roof of the lab building, smoking my way through a stale pack of Camels I found in the cardiologist's old desk.

A thin trickle of black smoke curls into the sky about a quarter-mile out, right about where I saw the family saying "grace" before they ate one of their own kids. I was stupid enough to be curious, so I grabbed a pair of binoculars and looked.

At the spot, a pile of ash and bones sits in the center of a clearing, where the last surviving member of that family stacked the remains of his family, poured fuel oil on it, and lit it up. I got to watch as he then doused himself, then threw himself on the top of the pile.

At this point, the fact that I'm not as horrified as I should be horrifies me... I've gone numb, I've overdosed on terror and disgust... if I don't start processing what I've seen, what I've learned, I'll be next with a can of gasoline and a Zippo.

I've learned a lot in the past 24 hours. I know how this is happening, who did it, and why.

The worst part of it is, it wasn't one person.

And all of the perpetrators were working at cross purposes.

I crush out a cigarette, light another one, and take a deep drag. I haven't smoked in almost 18 years, since my sister's diagnosis, and the harsh smoke rasps against a throat that's not as inured to is as it used to be. I can almost feel the lung cancer start, creep slowly across alveoli, the very beginning of a slow and painful death.

It doesn't matter. I doubt I'll survive this siege, dead either by infestation of "friendly fire."

The How:

I read through several modules of code, attempting to find where the tampering had occurred.

To best understand what I found, I'm going to back up a bit and describe how the meatbots work, and how we got there.

There are at least a dozen types of bots., and each works on a different system of the body. One class works on musculature, one works on bones, etc.

Those classes of bots communicate with the other bots in a host via electrochemical processes. I've read the docs several times and still don't fully grasp what they do... I just know it works.

This helps vector the bots to the places they are needed most: a neurological-specialized bit will "see" a damaged bone, and via relay, it will notify all of the osteological-class bots to swarm the area and knit the damage, for example.

I hate to hand-wave a lot of details away, but there was much I didn't understand on the biological and mechanical side of the process, so I just took it on faith that it worked well enough to do the job.

What I do know, and know very well, is the programming side.

Once we had discovered how to "code" the DNA in the bots, I took several months to create a compiler that would translate "MoveTo" into GATACA. The fact that there are only 4 nucleobases in DNA (G, C, T, and A), and that they followed strict rules and patterns which I studied thoroughly before proceeding, accelerated the process.

Once I had it in place, I was given chunks of DNA coding that were used as functions in the bots. For example, "AGGTACCTGGGAGGTC" (not a real sequence) in section 4 of chromosome 4a might direct the bot to "move to lungs." I would take that function and add it to our library of functions, and an auto-complete in the IDE would be created.

That coding would be compiled into genetic sequences, "knit" into place in what we referred to as a "gene-forge." Again, this was on the mechanical side, and I hate to hand-wave it, but I just never understood it.

It works. That's... yeah, that's it.

With that compiler came a decompiler. I could take failed bots, break them down, read the DNA coding, and find out how they were knit to see if the forge somehow got it wrong. There were a lot of early errors, and tracking them down and solving them was a major priority.

One time. we had a serious syntax error that restructured a rat's intestinal tract into a pretzel. The poor thing was in agony, and euthanizing and dissecting it showed that we had majorly fucked up. Decompilation showed a GATACA sequence that was supposed to repair tears, but actually rebuilt the entire digestive system into a Celtic knot.

This was worse. Far worse.

I found absolute spaghetti code in the neuro-bots' programming, which essentially removed the "impulse control" section of the brain and replaced it with... something.

If my neurology isn't horrifying, I was looking at someone with no compunctions against killing or maiming someone to feed their hunger.

Speaking of which... another chink of cobbled-together nonsense in the endocrine-bots hammered on the ghrelin production.

A third one boosted replication of bots to be priority 2 rather than last priority.

SO... the bots are introduced. They swarm to knit the "damaged" sections, rewire the brain to lose inhibitions, rework the glands to produce more hunger hormones, and use the resulting protein to boost meatbot replication.

Fuck. Me.

They didn't even hide themselves in the code, either.

Another backtrack:

When we assembled the team, we looked for the best available people to fill the slots: doctors, engineers, biologists, chemists, etc. When we finished, we had a few dozen people working in small clusters, mapping the human body, working on preparing maps of rats and mice for testing purposes, building up the infrastructure to produce small quantities of bots, etc.

The problem was, we didn't necessarily get the best of the best. We couldn't pay enough to lure the most talented out of the private sector; instead, we got idealists and people just good enough not to get fired, but not good enough to maintain a steady job at a Fortune 500.

As such, we didn't do a lot of screening to ensure we had compatible personalities. This led to some very nasty conflicts in personality, and led to conflicting long-term goals.

One doctor, our neurologist (Dr. A), wanted to use the bots long-term to make humanity "better." Can you say "eugenicist?"

Another one, our orthopedic surgeon (Dr. B), wanted to leverage our discovery and hard work into political power. Can you say "opportunist?"

Finally, we had... oh, shit, they're not going to...

Gotta go. I think these assholes just launched a Hellfire missile into the center of the city.