#when a just dance fan and a drag race fan share ideas

[surr3al1sm]

Dear Just Dance community,

Today I present to you: a drawing that started out 100% as a joke but I feel would be greatly appreciated here.

Enjoy.

[enchantestuff]

rekindle - rbr sebastian vettel

in which after a long time apart, you and Sebastian rekindle your love for one another in the least romantic place you could think of - a sweaty, packed nightclub

NOT MY GIF!!

warnings: public sex (ofc), fingering, teasing, lowkey angst at the start, nicknames, uncomfy ex, sebastain Vettel deserves a warning himself, happy sinning

taglist: @theringers​ @forestviper201 @icemanhoneybadger​ @formulamei @findthelightinyourlife

3.1k words

You smirked as your eyes met from across the club for what felt like the hundredth time that night. You hadn't seen him in over a year, the last time you were even in the same country as him had ended up with you climbing into a taxi, speeding away to the airport and him standing half naked in his driveway, wishing for the car to turn around and end his worst nightmare.

The relationship between you and Sebastsian was a complicated one to say the least. You had grown up with each other, your families vacationed together every second summer and you spent many christmases together. It was only when you got older that you started to really appreciate Sebastian.

Daydreams of what it would be like to spend a night in bed with him began to fill your free moments. Images of the two of you tangled in bed was once something that you could only dream about, but that dream certainly became a reality one unforgettable night in Italy.

It was during a celebratory dinner after yet another win that he had leaned over to talk to you. His lips brushed against the side of your neck and goosebumps had risen all over your skin, you cursed yourself for your reaction but soon began praising your childish antics once Sebastian finally caught onto how you felt about him.

The few words of “do i make you nervous, liebe?” led to the two of you making out in the corridor. That celebratory dinner escalated to a friends with benefits situation which set off a more than complicated relationship between the two of you where feelings were of course present, but stubbornness from both sides refused to let them be out in the open.

Your feelings for one another eventually escaped when he got into a nasty crash in the middle of a race. You ran up to him the minute he stormed into the garage, tears welling in your eyes as you crushed into a hug. He held you with just as much force and whispered into your ear what you had been waiting for months to hear.

He told you that you had been the only thing on his mind when he crashed into the wall and he didn't want to go a minute longer without telling you how he really felt about you

As much as you wanted things to be great with Sebastain, your relationship was unfortunately not plain sailing from there and the media had a bring role to play in your downfall. They wouldn't leave him or you alone, constantly following the two of you wherever you went and even going as far as sending mail to your shared home. It was the media that drove you to leave the man you adored and move to another country in search for a new career and a new life away from the public eye.

You stared at him now, unable to tear your eyes away from his beautiful frame. He looked as good as ever and you knew deep down that you would probably never see him again. So against your brain telling you not to, you engraved every detail of his face into your memory, not wanting to let him go just yet.

You felt horrible for leaving him and strongly believed that he hated you for abandoning him. You wouldn't have blamed him if he did, you sometimes hated yourself for that decision. So you kept your distance from him all night, repeatedly telling yourself that if he did not harbor any bad emotions towards you, then he would approach you himself.

To tell the truth, you were too embarrassed to go up to him yourself, too full of guilt to face him after what you had done. But when he made eye contact with you as he pulled a girl into his body, something inside you snapped and you found yourself being dragged into an all too familiar game of cat and mouse with him.

Your night of teasing had officially begun the minute he kissed the brunette's neck, refusing to break your stare as his hands ran up and down her hips. You decided it was your turn to reciprocate the teasing and pulled a random, but still handsome, man towards you to dance. Holding your gaze with him, you allowed the man to grip onto your hips and sway from side to side. Your ass pressing against him with every beat of the music.

You maintained eye contact with him as he chatted with multiple women, his hands resting dangerously low on their backs as he smirked in your direction, you hated how much you loved his little games.

You decided to take a dance break and stepped away from the claustrophobic dance floor. Moving towards the less packed bar, you leaned against the contour top as you ordered yet another drink. The feeling of hands wrapping around your hips didn’t surprise you, nor did the hot breath fanning across the back of your neck. You were used to the warmth of Seb’s body by now and after so much time apart, you still recognized his touch.

“Quite a show you put on back there,” he muttered, gesturing to the bartender for another drink before turning his attention back towards you. You kept your face forward, staring at the variety of liquor stacked on the shelves as Sebastian flirted with you in your ear. He was still positioned behind you, which you saw as the perfect opportunity to press your ass against his crotch.

The tightening of his grip only fueled you to press yourself further into him in hopes that you would emit an even stronger reaction from him, and boy did you get what you wanted. One of his hands rested underneath your breast and as he emitting a small amount of pressure against you, he forced you into him.

No longer leaning against the counter, you could now feel the entirety of his body pressed against you. Every vein and muscle. Every curve and dent of his body, Still, that didn't stop you from wiggling your bum against him.

“Are you trying to turn me on right now, love, or are you really that fucking oblivous?”

You twisted your head to finally look at him, momentarily taken aback by his pure beauty before regaining your confidence again. “That depends,” you hummed, purposely brushing your lips against his neck as you spoke, “Is it working?”

His hold on you tightened and somehow he pulled you even closer to him, allowing you to feel every inch and vein of his hardened cock. “Someones excited,” you smiled, immediately freezing up when you caught sight of your ex boyfriend standing next to you.

He was the man you had been with before Seb and it was safe to say he had completely broken your heart.

Confusion immediately filled Sebs body at your reaction, fearful he had done something wrong he moved to stand beside you, holding onto your bicep as he looked you in your eyes. “Are you alright, darling?” he questioned, his eyes bouncing back and forth as he searched your face for any indication of pain.

“Yeah its - “

“Y/N! Great to see you.” Dread immediately filled your body at the infamous voice, you felt yourself go rigid in Sebastian's grip and desperately wished for your ex to leave the two of you alone.

“Who's this douche?” Seb whispered in your ear, trying to relive some of your tension and comfort you in what seemed to be a terribly uncomfortable situation.

“Brad, hey,” you muttered, you grabbed hold of Sebastian's hand that was previously sprawled on the bar countertop, using the warmth of his touch as a confidence booster to finally turn around and face the brutal ex.

“How have you been?” he asked, refusing to even glance at the Redbull driver next to you, focusing his hungry gaze on you and you only.

You sighed deeply at his attempt of small talk. Could he not just say hello and move on? Did he really need to interrupt your night.

Sebastian kept a close eye on you throughout your short conversation. A sense of protectiveness filled him at your rigid stance, he knew you could handle the situation yourself but he couldn't help but want to aid you. He felt the need to get involved. So he did.

He didn’t let you answer the man's next question of what you had recently been up to, instead he grabbed hold of the side of your face, his fingers dipping into the nape of your neck as he pulled you into him. He grinned smugly at the worried glance you threw his way before connecting your lips together.

The kiss was hesitant at first.

Taking into account this was your first shared kiss together since the breakup, it felt both natural and unusual to be kissing him again, but as the seconds passed you found yourself relaxing in his hold and began kissing him back with much more force.

You lost yourself in the moment, the idea of your ex boyfriend watching you make out with your other ex boyfriend didn't even cross your mind. You solely focused on the way Sebastian’s lips felt against yours after such a long time apart. He was addicting.

Your eyes fluttered open when he pulled away, blushing slightly at the sheepish look he threw your exes way. “What were you saying, mate?” he confidently asked.

The feeling of his palm burned against your cheek and you couldn't even bring yourself to look at Brad, but you didn't need to as he just stumbled away, clearly intimidated by Sebastian.

There was no need for you to say anything to Seb - if the way you were teasing him earlier on in the evening was of no indication to how you felt about him - then the lustful look you were giving him now certainly was.

He immediately pulled you back into him, your lips reconnecting in a lustful kiss. With no more awkwardness surrounding the two of you, you found yourself enjoying it even more.

Moving one of his hands down your body, Sebastian forcefully squeezed your bum which emitted a gasp from you, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth, further deepening the kiss. He pressed his body against yours and your hands raked across it, feeling his muscles flex against your hands.

You moaned into his mouth the minute he dug his hips into you, the feeling of his body so close to you bringing you back to when the two of you dated. Confusion filled you when he pulled away, ending your lovely make out session and disappointing you tremendously. “Don't start what you can't finish, love” he warned, leaning down to scatter kisses across your chest, nipping and licking at every exposed area.

“Who says I can't finish this?” you remarked, grinning at the way his eyebrows rose at your statement.

“Look around us, darling” he stood up straighter, craning his neck to glance from side to side, taking into account the multiple people surrounding the two of you. Hundreds of people filled the room, hundreds of eyes that could possibly witness something. Hundreds of reasons why the two of you shouldn't get ahead of yourselves. But then again, when he looked back at you and the playful pout that crossed your features - he found himself making up a hundred different reasons as to why it was such a brilliant idea.

“But then again,” he continued, leaning closer to you in order to whisper in your ear, “that's never stopped us before.”

A shiver ran up your spine at his words, images flashing through your mind of previous encounters the two of you had in the most inappropriate areas. Cutting your daydream short, Sebastian grabbed hold of your hand and guided you up the stairs to the more secluded vip area.

The bouncer merily glanced at Sebastian before lifting the red velvet rope and letting the two of you in. Nodding a small thanks to the man, he continued his journey into the dimly lit area, a content hum leaving his lips at the sight of a small booth in the corner.

He sat down on the plush seats and you fell down to sit on top of him, the lower half of your body covered by the wooden table in front of you. Sebastian wasted no time in kissing your neck, unable to detach himself from your skin for more than a few moments.

Your head fell back onto his shoulder, watching the small group of people ahead of you dancing and laughing at each other caused a blush to quickly creep up your cheeks. The thought if anyone witnessing your antics both embarrassing and exciting you.

“Are you sure you want to do this, liebe?” Seb questioned, he placed his finger on your cheek and forced you to look at him as he spoke. “Because once we start, I won't be able to stop.”

“And why would I ever want you to stop?” you shot back, pressing your bum further into him to prove your point. Sebs eyes scanned the area, having seemingly decided the risk of getting caught was worth it, he ran his fingers up your thigh, under your skirt and into your underwear.

His other hand trailed the opposite direction, moving up your body to gently squeeze your breast. You arched your back at the sensation, your ass moving further into him and a harsh squeeze being delivered as a result.

Slipping a finger into you, his hand flew away from your breast to clamp over your mouth, muffling the sudden moan that escaped you. “You have to be quiet, sweetheart. There's people around us,” he reminded.

He littered gentle kisses up your neck and you could feel his smirk against your skin at the shaky breath you let out the minute he slipped a second finger into you. “I don't think anyone else deserves to hear your moans, darling.”

You hummed against his hand, wetness pooling at his words and your eyes fluttering closed as his thumb began to circle your clit. “Move up for a second, liebe,” he demanded once he removed his fingers from you. Having no other option but to comply, you braced your hands against the table and stood up on shaky legs. You patiently waited as Sebastain undid his belt, the sound of the metal coming undone bringing a newfound wetness to your core.

“Ready?” he questioned, moving his hand up and down your thigh to comfort you. You nodded your head, biting harshly on your lip, you quickly glanced behind you and yet another shaky breath tumbled from your lips at the sight you beheld.

Sebastain was sprawled across the couch with his dick barely covered by your body. The sight of him shamelessly sitting there did something to you and before you lost your confidence, you slowly lowered yourself down onto him.

“Keep quiet now,” he reminded once you took all of him in. Your hands gripped onto the table in front of you, your knuckles quickie turning white as you used it as leverage to start moving.

The sound of your skin hitting against sebastians was muffled by the laughter of the crowd and the loudness of the msic booming across the grand club. “I'm trying,” you grunted.

You slowly bounced on him, trying to keep your movements small and inconspicuous to the people around you. But Sebastian could only last so long without needing to take over. A moan accidentally escaped you once he began thrusting his own hips upwards to meet yours. In response to your foolishness, he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking not so gently on it as a warning and forcing you to look at the dim lights hanging above you instead of the people ahead of you.

Holding onto your body he quickly steadied you, forcing you to halt your movements as a random man walked up to the two of you. You shifted in his hold and attempted to reposition yourself to look more natural towards the stranger. You just wanted it to seem like you were cuddling the driver, not bouncing on his dick.

One of your arms wrapped around his neck while the other laid on his chest. You spared a quick glance downwards, making sure your skirt covered everything before looking back up at the man. Sebastian greeted him, admittedly not poilelty, but he greeted him nevertheless. It only took a few seconds for the two of you to realise he was a fan and by the looks of it, would do anything to hold a conversation with the Sebastian Vettel.

You couldn't help but move on his lap, the need for friction overwhelming you after staying put for several minutes. You slowly began rolling your hips, your heart racing at the sudden release of pressure and also at the fact you were grinding on him with a fan of his only a few feet away.

Sebastian cleared his throat, trying desperately to pay attention to the man in front of him and not on how good you felt clenching around him. His hips unintentionally runted up into you, muttering a quick curse under his breath he grimaced at the man, cutting his sentence short as he gestured towards you. “If you wouldn't mind,” he sympathetically commented.

“Right, right sorry,” he mumbled, “Enjoy your night.”

He soon scrambled away from view and Sebastian began carelessly thrusting into you again. You returned to your original position, now resting your head against the table, thankful for the pleasure filling your whole body. You could feel a bead of sweat forming on the nape of your neck and were almost certain you looked a mess but you couldn't have cared as you got nearer and nearer to your peak.

This new angle allowed Sebastian to take control of your activities. He guided your hips back and forth, not paying attention to the movement of the table nor the attention that the two of you could possibly bring your way. All he wanted was to bring you to your release. “Are you going to cum for me, darling?” he whispered. You nodded against the table, the coolness of the wood reliving your flushed cheeks as you felt the knot begin to release in your stomach.

You moved your hand to grip onto his thigh, “I'm gonna-” you mumbled, unable to finish your sentence as he gripped onto the back of your neck and forced you to sit up straight. His fingers immediately fell down your throat in a poor attempt to muffle your moans. You whimpered loudly at his show of dominance, your attempts to keep quiet failing profusely as he hurried his movements.

His fingers moved further down your throat as your walls clenched around him. Before you knew it you were spilling yourself against Sebastain. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head and heat filling your body as he followed in your actions.

[goshdangronpa]

DANGANRONPA DRAG RACE

May the best drag queen survive!

(I initially called this Dragonronpa, but another Tumblr user called dibs on the name for their own AU - sorry for any confusion!)

This is a stupid idea, with an unspeakable amount of time and thought put into it, conceived solely by combining two things I like (Danganronpa and RuPaul's Drag Race). Obviously, I must share it!

--

Obviously, the host is a gender-swapped Junko Enoshima. The Ultimate Fashionista terrifies the contestants slightly more than RuPaul does, and she lives for juicy drama.

Judges and cast include:

Miu Iruma: the token aggressively heterosexual woman on the panel. Like Michelle Visage, she can dish. Unlike Michelle Visage, she can't take.

Teruteru Hanamura: his time to shine! The one place where the wannabe sophisticate's double entendres can be endearing rather than creepy.

Nekomaru Nidai: one of the speedo-clad assistants? The choreographer for any dance challenges? Why not both?

Guest judges include:

Sayaka Maizono: she's only here to cynically take advantage of her queer fanbase, but she enjoys seeing everyone dress up and the racers go crazy for her.

Tsumugi Shirogane: a huge fan of the show and she won't shut up! The Ultimate Cosplayer oversees a challenge where racers create outfits inspired by anime and fandom culture at large.

Contestants include:

Kokichi Ouma: a comedy queen who gags everyone every time. Strives for the villain edit because she knows who the audience will really remember after the winner is crowned, she knows who gets into All-Stars. The season really starts to drag once she's eliminated.

Gundham Tanaka: intimidating on the outset with impeccable gothic style, though secretly a sweetie. She's too unique to get far, but she parlays her newfound fame into a better turn on Dragula. Better yet, the mainstream exposure helps the freaks who'd love her style find her.

Hifumi Yamada: can't have Drag Race without a big girl strutting her stuff. Hifumi takes inspiration from her beloved magical girls, which may get notes for not branching out more but dazzle nonetheless.

Ultimate Impostor: when commanded to give a stage name after initially giving no name at all, they gag everyone and steal the name of previous winner Byakuya Togami. Guess who absolutely nails Snatch Game.

Korekiyo Shinguji: impressive fashion, impeccable make-up, imaginative results. A little unhinged, but witty and determined. A real contender for the crown. Let's just say the backstory from V3 isn't in this AU.

Chihiro Fujisaki: whether they see her as someone to protect or an easy target to knock out, every competitor thinks she's adorable. Like so many Drag Race contestants, she eventually identifies as trans.

... I talk about the post-show futures of these contestants, but I also enjoy the idea that instead of merely sashaying away, losers get Punishment Time. They literally need to lip-sync for their lives.

Alright, artists, there's your prompt

[sugar-petals]

can you give us more thoughts about domestic yoongles? the taemin's one (wich I love) just made me miss the cat boy so much ;o;

i have a phd in househusband yoongi so let me fire out some ideas for ya.

myg at home headcanon

🐱 word count. 1.9k | fluff, slice of life, slight nsfw mentions, x reader, bullet points

The doorbell sound is a recording of Yoongi imitating a doorbell. He’s such a meme. Ceci n'est pas une pipe.

Seemingly, he teaches himself a new recipe every week. To perfection. Yoongi is very particular about sticking to the recipe and wielding his kitchen tools in the right way. He collects knives, olive oil, and still hates cutting onions.

He separates sleep time, work time, and couple time as the holy trinity. For each, he switches his mood.

Blushes easily no matter for how long you’ve been together.

Establishes his own radio show where he DJs at one point.

Yoongi keeps an extreme track on the garbage schedule. He knows exactly what is due when. Separating the trash is a must. That includes sorting out fake friends trying to get between your relationship. Your social circle as a couple is extremely deliberate.

Yoongi deems himself a terrible host for guests. Unless Hoseok is there to drag him out, it's true he rather stays in the kitchen or at the barbecue preparing the menu courses rather than making small talk. He leaves the hospitality bits to you, however you want to go about it.

What he lacks in conversing with guests, he makes up in bed, God is absolutely fair.

He sings and hums pretty often and has his own vernacular of extraterrestrial uwu noises. It's an alphabet that you have to yet decipher but it's incredibly cute.

Self-made paintings everywhere around his house. 

Yoongi hasn't gone clubbing since grammar school. The most he does is going to a restaurant at lunch with very close friends. And always in a work context. His private life is so secluded from everything else and paparazzi just don't spot him anywhere, Dispatch thinks he must live abroad.

Very well, he does consider his big ole house a separate country. It's a living organism with a studio, gym, trophy room, small-size basketball court, and vastly equipped kitchen. A home theater as well, he likes American movies (like Inception) and Korean action genres, and you can stream whatever you fancy in there whenever you like. 

Yes, he has underwear with cute little bears on.

There's even a little pond in the backyard. Yoongi, Pisces he is, likes fishes after all. Sometimes he sits at the edge of the 'Little Ole Min Lake (LOML)' and stares into the water for literal hours with his chin parked on his palm.

His fridge is so high-tech and futuristic, even Yoongi is rendered clueless by its AI sometimes. The washing machine, too.

Yoongi watches RuPaul’s drag race. What did you expect? He finds it so humorous.

Owns lord knows how many comic collections.

Favorite holiday destination: New York.

Christmas is basically 50% you unveiling new music equipment to him in the garage and Yoongi almost fainting at the sexiness of it. The other 50% is spent holding hands and orgasm after orgasm until the new year since you loose track of time.

Goes on long rants why he’d marry you again every weekend.

Making you presents is his specialty. Always accompanied with a hand-written note. He writes a lot of things by hand for you in general. Texting, basically never. Always on paper.

No sex without a blanket and socks on. Yoongi gets cold very very easily and just doesn’t like showing skin. You buy him a heated blanket for his birthday, he even uses it in his studio chair.

Chronically addicted to making out.

Matching black outfits and glasses.

Laughs at even your worst jokes or phrases you didn’t expect you even uttered.

Yoongi owns the phoniest, most secretive-looking black car ever and nobody knows about it. Even he forgets he owns it, in fact he genuinely acts like it just doesn’t exist. Hilarious. And that guy has a level 1 Korean driver's license. Which allows him to drive trailers and busses and fucking trucks, and construction machines, let that sink in.

It's really a genius curse. Yoongi being put to the test will always deliver but he won't choose to execute his full skillset if he doesn't have to. Well, pragmatic. He's not as phony as he thinks he is, which is even more hilarious.

He uses that behemoth of a car so scarcely because he'd rather have things delivered to his doorstep and he's stingy with gas. Also, he doesn't like traffic and driving because of the traumatic shoulder accident and his tendency to space out. Translation: You drive that thing... that monster... it really is an impressive, fast, and scary machine. 

If someone devious ever even remotely manages to invade his privacy and get past the doubly-installed security system, he has enough money to deal with it no matter what.

If it concerns your privacy, he's a red belt. And owns Jin's number if a taekwondo master is required. Jimin's if it needs someone with kendo skills.

If Yoongi needs someone to go on a complete rampage, Jungkook lives just down the block. He can sprint to Yoongi's bunker I mean mansion within 45 seconds. 30 if it's very urgent. 20 if the reward is an instant ramen splurge with Yoongi's black card.

He has a sexy, glamorous sword collection hanging on the living room wall anyways, so. Who the hell is dumb enough to mess with him and his expensive lawyer in the first place.

But just in case, who knows... Yoongi settles matters shruggingly, anonymously, and with cash and he's too exhausted for violence, but don't underestimate his deter-min-ation and network for emergencies. Also, he is Agust D after all.

He will bonk a naughty burglar or kidnapper across the head with a wooden cooking spoon or take him down by throwing a basketball if the situation requires it. Damn, his reflexes are so fast, a feral cat in motion. So, lean back and sip on your drink of choice. Things are cared for.

If Yoongi is the one being kidnapped or a highly skilled stalker invades the property at night when he's fast asleep (nothing can wake this man during certain hours, strong REM right here): Don't forget that honeyboy is a Dodgers fan. There are signed baseball bats everywhere in this damn house.

In that sense, your parents visiting you here for the first time thought you were an undercover thug couple. Not to worry mom and dad, you both just like sports very much okay.

Yoongi walks around in all black clothes and the rooms are all seemingly dark. Even if you live together, you don't know his skin care routine. It's clear to you he's some sort of vampire.

Since Yoongi always forgets to remove his makeup, you made it a habit to wipe it down when he's about to pass out. He won't lie, he enjoys that kind of affection.

Holly is your resident child. You're essentially a family.

He insists to tackle this by himself, Yoongi sees his therapist monthly. Not shifting responsibility is something he's stubborn about and he pours his emotions into writing. You will do conversation about deeper stuff, but he says it's mostly up to him and his own mind. He dislikes burdening you or opening up too much and it's something to respect rather than force him about. If he wants to share a thought, he will. It doesn’t mean he can’t trust you or sucks at communicating (we know that he’s direct). Yoongi simply can’t put that much pain in such few words nor should you alleviate it for him.

Calls from the manager faze Yoongi as much as Jimin is bothered by gravity. If he’s busy kissing your body slow mo, who the hell dares to disturb his worship. 

This man had so many let-downs and interpersonal catastrophes in his life, he's super discerning with people. Because he rolls that way, during their first meeting Yoongi uses his psychology certificate on your friends. You see him squint at them, he listens very closely. After they pass the vibe check aka meow radar, he befriends them, too.

Yoongi doodles Grammy trophies everywhere to manifest them.

Yoongi shaves his legs.

All the sex toys he’s ever bought are black. Gotta vibe in style.

He spends ridiculous amounts of time in the studio but he's yours for the remainder of the night, breakfast, and he makes a lavish lunch and dinner.

Um, consider his head parked between your legs. The Hongkong line was not a joke.

Doesn’t mind you squishing his cheeks whenever and for how long you like. 

Every other weekend he gets flowers, vouchers, and gifts — not because of fans, they don’t know where his house is, but because he donates so much.

Namjoon often drops by and cleanses the area with his crystals.

Yoongi is a photography major so you can ask him to take professional, ceiling-high black and white shots of you.

Feeding each other food lovingly. Man, this guy got lips.

He set up a library just for you, in the exact historical aesthetic you like the most. Send him the link to any book you want, it's basically in the online shopping cart already. As I said, he wants to make you presents like every week.

Sometimes he sits on the other end studying English videos and vocab while you read. And yes, he's already 95% fluent but pretends being merely intermediate. He knows technical terms even native speakers have never heard of.

He collects pajamas and earrings.

Swears on the phone.

Namjoon being the horniest member is a cover-up story. Yoongi masturbates almost unreasonable amounts of times, by himself and in your arms when going to bed. Not gonna lie, it’s a sight to see his hands at work. He’s almost equally obsessed with fingering you once you ask him.

Yoongi was the one asking you to move in and almost had a nervous meltdown before meeting up with you to tell you just that. 

He’s the little spoon and of course a sleeping burrito to hold tight.

Finds you equally attractive in any state or styling. Yoongi practices what he preaches, he always reacts the same and says the same. 

Jams out to outrageous beats Namjoon sends him by dancing in the studio. You walk in on him every time. Was embarrassed at first, now you dance along.

Has bought you a life-sized Yoongi pillow and customized you a giant Shooky to hug when he’s not at home over night.

Owned a wine cellar until he quit drinking. Turned it into a piano room instead.

Only you know Yoongi has a serpent and dagger tattoo.

Scrubs the bathroom religiously.

The house smells like restaurant food and his extravagant perfumes half of the time.

Sometimes he has to remind himself he’s married to you and not his coffee machine. He shall be forgiven. You can’t complain that he doesn’t love you enough, nor is he ever not adorable when drinking his latte.

Never wears short sleeves. It can be scorching and he’ll wear a jacket. 

Tell him and the cap stays on during sex.

He grows his hair out and puts it in a low bun. The bangs remain.

Yoongi has installed the most fire-proof building in the entire city it seems. That he wanted to be a firefighter when he was young definitely shows. Figures the house has to be protected from heat: His blasting studio music and Yoongi himself are just way too sizzling.

Still melts into a puddle when you kiss his nose.

Couple sunrise watching. 

© submissive-bangtan 2017-2021. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate. all depictions fictional.

[byorder-fanfic]

Red Eyed Anger

Summary: There are two things your brothers hate the most: the cavalry, and the idea of you, their youngest sister, dating. When they decide to piss you off at Tommy’s wedding, you think it’s a good idea to hit two birds with one stone. Or, more likely, give John an aneurysm.

Word count: 2234

Warnings: Swearing, overprotective brothers and mentions of drugs

Authors Note: This is my first Peaky Blinders x reader imagine, so I hope you enjoy. Thanks for all the support and kind comments from my first post, it really gave me the confidence to carry on! xx

When Finn had grabbed your wrist and told you Tommy wanted to see you, this wasn't exactly what you expected. Walking into his needlessly large kitchen, you dodged a few busy waiters hurrying around (and maybe grabbing a snack off one of the plates), as you perched on the side. Looking around, the family was all there. Well, nearly. It was all the men and boys, in their dark suits that made your dark green dress stand out more. It was long sleeved and baggy, just as all your clothes were, lest you wanted to give Arthur a heart attack. Tommy was looking as disgruntled as always as he lit a cigarette, eyebrows furrowed as he watched Arthur and Michael clamber down the stairs, saying something about needing a map. It was true, you thought, as you compared the mansion you were sat in to the little house in Watery Lane.

"Tom, why the hell have you invited me to your boys club?" You snapped, only to be ignored, as usual.

"Alright boys, you're all here," he muttered as he raised his arms to look at you all. You tried to ignore the 'boys' comment, but you still felt yourself glaring at him as he started his speech. "Today it's my fucking wedding day."

"And you said there'd be no uniforms," John pointed out with a snarl. Upstairs, the red uniforms overwhelmed every corridor and floor.

"Nevertheless John, despite the bad blood, I'll have none of it on my carpet." Everyone shared disappointed glances. "Now, for Grace's sake, those bastard's out there are her family, and if any of you fuckers do anything to embarrass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids, do anything to-"

He was almost shouting, you didn't hear Isaiah suddenly piping in, until Tommy suddenly turned to him to yell "What?"

"What about snow?" You raised your eyebrows over your brother's shoulder, causing Isaiah to return a little smirk, as John grabbed him in headlock.

"No cocaine," he pointed his finger in front of Isaiah. "No sports," directed at John. "No races, no fucking sucking the petrol out of their cars." He grabbed onto Finn's face, and this time you couldn't hide a laugh. Then Tommy turned to you, his blue eyes unusually angry. "As always Y/N, no drinking, smoking, and no dancing with any man not in this room."

Your mouth dropped in offence, as you looked round to your other brothers, all looking at you with teasing grins.

"Tom, this is a party! I thought I could have fun!" You tried your best to look angry at him too, only to get John snorting out a laugh.

"C'mon, Y/N, you're just a kid, have fun with Katie and my lot," he suggested with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Yeah, I'm sure Charlie's got some orange juice you can have," Arthur joined in with a gruff laugh. In a second, your fists were clenched as you moved up to hit them, only to have Tommy's grip on your shoulder, pushing you down.

"I'm the same age as Finn, you promised you'd let me have a bit of freedom!" 

"Well, we lied," Tommy said simply as he turned over to your Uncle Charlie, who was watching this with an interested cock of his eyebrows. "And, you, Charlie, stop spinning fucking yards about me, hey?" He turned around, letting out another huff of smoke.

"I'm just trying to sell you to them, Tom," Charlie protested as he too raised a cigarette in his hand. 

"And for the love of God, no fighting," Tommy was yelling again. You wondered if Grace could hear this. "NO FUCKING FIGHTING!"

You rolled your eyes as you quickly walked out, trying to ignore your Uncle's sympathetic pat on the shoulder as you marched past, a fury in your eyes and fists curled.

"I'm not a child, Esme," you groaned as you slumped next to your sister-in-law. She was giving a grin, evidently being told what Tommy's meeting was all about. "When will they start to treat me like Finn?"

"When you don't have tits," she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Fucking sexists," you said under your breath, yet Isaiah still heard. He was by your side, eyes glazing over the woman on the dancefloor, yet commanded by Finn to play bodyguard. His laugh shook the cavalry shoulders standing behind you to jump suddenly, as they surveyed the three of you with curious eyes. You recognised one of them from the ceremony. He was younger than the two men, about your age, but still donned the same robin-red uniform. He was handsome, you thought, and had been giving you less than discreet looks as you stood opposite in the pews. Now, it was your turn to give him a grin. Luckily, neither Isaiah or Esme noticed your sudden change of attention. 

"I'm going to get some air," you said, and they both nodded as they watched you go, green dress standing out in the sea of red. As you'd hoped, there were a pair of footsteps behind you as you made it into one of the many corridors of Arrow House. 

"Miss Shelby," his accent was distinctly Irish and brought another smile on your face as you spun on your heels to turn to the cavalry soldier. 

"It's Y/N," you held out your hand, which he quickly took in his own, bringing himself closer to you. "And you are?"

"Conor Burgess." He let go of your hand, but he was still very close to you, his breath fanning on your skin.

"You're related to Grace?" Despite yourself, you took a step closer, your chest brushing against his.

"She's my dad's cousin."

You brought your hands up to smooth down the edges of the bright uniform he donned. Red, like the bad blood between them and your brothers. Red, like the anger you felt at them. Red, like the lipstick on your smile as an idea came to mind.

"You're a little young to be a soldier," you whispered, fingers brushing the golden button at his throat.

"It's a family thing," Conor had an exhausted sigh. "I kinda have to be."

"I know what that's like," you nodded as you thought of the ways your brothers had bent over backwards to keep you the child you no longer were. Shaking off the sadness, you gave him another mischievous grin. "How about we go disappoint both our families, Conor?"

"Sounds good to me, Y/N." He let you take your hand and drag him up the stairs.

There were a lot of guest bedrooms in Arrow House, so surely it was a good idea to hide in one. If anyone noticed you’d gone, they’d need a map to find you. When you took off Conor's scarlet uniform coat, removing all responsibilities of a soldier, you'd made it explicitly clear that that was the only piece of clothing being removed tonight. He'd agreed to it, eagerly, as he discarded the jacket with very little thought. In his undershirt, he sat next to you on the end of the bed, looking at each other awkwardly.

"Y'know, I've been watching you all day," he whispered as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. The action made your face burn up, as you became all too conscious of the feeling of his knee against yours. 

"I've noticed," you tried to keep your confidence, despite a bashfulness at the thought of what was coming next. 

"You are the prettiest girl in the room, Y/N," he kept a hand against your neck, the other one on your hand. Conor held an intense look as he forced you to keep eye contact. "Can I kiss you?"

You didn't answer, just dove in to press your lips against his. It wasn't a smart idea, you realised a little too late, as you had no clue what to do next. Luckily, Conor did. He held onto your neck, keeping you close as he kissed you softly. It wasn't like the ways you'd seen Esme and John make out, or as disgusting as it looked when you saw Isaiah or Finn snogging girls in the Garrison. It was a nice, warm feeling that exhilarated you, although the sensation of his tongue in your mouth wasn't one you were used to. Suddenly, you grabbed onto his shoulders as you shifted yourself to sit on his lap, knees by his hips. In a second, he readjusted his grip to hold onto your own hips. You pulled away when you ran out of air, uncomfortably aware of the saliva at the corner of your lip. With a chuckle, Conor reached up to brush it away with his thumb, beaming up at you without a hint of disgust. His hands stayed on your hips, your dress was still on and he seemed contented by that. A softness in your heart suddenly formed for this boy you knew next to nothing about.

"That was nice," you whispered. 

"Your first time?" He asked with a smile that assured you he knew the answer.

"My brothers always told me boys only wanted one thing from me." You bit your lip as you looked into the empathetic look in his eyes. "But you're...different."

"Good different?"

"Very good different." You leaned down to place a chaste kiss on his lips. "Maybe we should do this again some time?"

His eyes lit up.

"I'd like that," he ascertained, but the sudden reminder of his accent made you frown.

"When are you going back to Galway?"

"I've got some soldier training in London, which I can probably extend to a year."

This time, it was your eyes that widened. A year? To go from a first kiss to get at your brothers, to a year with the kind, reluctant cavalry boy you were currently straddling. 

"Well then, I guess I'm going to be going up to see my sister a lot more." You smiled into another kiss. This time, he turned you to lie down on the bed as he rested on top, kissing you softly. As you heard the music blaring downstairs, you tried not to think how pissed your brothers will be. 

Right now though, all you could think of was Conor, and the kiss on your lips and his warmth over your body. It made the music and the sound of approaching footsteps all blur into nothing. That was, until you heard Arthur's hoarse scream.

"GET OFF MY SISTER!"

With wide eyes and blushing faces, the two of you jumped up to look at your three eldest brothers, all donning similar wrathful faces, none more angry than John. His face was redder than the scarlet jacket in his hand, which he immediately threw into Conor's chest. Fumbling with the buttons, he immediately shrugged the damned thing back on, looking at each of your brothers with fear evident. The two of you shuffled to sitting down, looking at each other like naughty schoolchildren.

"What the hell, Y/N?" John was disappointed, it was obvious, but you couldn't care less.

"Nice to meet you Mr Shelby, I'm Con-" He didn't get a chance to finish his unusually cheerful introduction as Arthur thrusted a finger forward.

"Shut it, you," he said with his usually gruff tone.

"What happened to no fighting?" You said, far too snarky for the situation.

"What happened to no boys?" Tommy snapped back, looking at you with pursed lips and an anger contained by icy blue eyes.

"Wasn't a rule," you said sweetly, as you began to mock his voice: "No drinking, smoking, and no dancing with any man not in this room, and NO FUCKING FIGHTING!"

Your giggle was met with three deadpan expressions. They weren't so easily amused, apparently.

"No boys is always a rule," Arthur seethed.

"And he's fucking cavalry," John immediately added on with as much venom as he could muster. You rolled your eyes, certain that even if he wasn't cavalry, your brother wouldn't be too happy about you sneaking off with a boy.

"Really?" You feigned innocence. "Couldn't tell- didn't have his coat on."

With a huff, John made a move forward, only for you to jump up to stand in front of him.

"No. Fucking. Fighting." You stressed each syllable, looking him down, confidence fuelled by rage. You weren't a baby, you weren't going to let your brothers rule your life.

"She didn't break any rules," Tommy conceded with a sigh, forcing the other two Shelby brothers to look at him with flabbergasted anger. But Tommy wasn't looking at them, just the red-faced boy you stood in front of, protectively. "Now, who the hell are you?"

"Conor Burgess," he said weakly. That seemed to please Tommy, as he perked up significantly, popping a new cigarette into his lips.

"Good, so I assume you're going back to Ireland with the rest of Grace's family next week, huh?" His eagerness relaxed the other two. Momentarily, of course.

With a smirk, you fell back onto the bed, giving a wink behind you. Conor was watching this all with wide eyes and the barest shadow of a smile.

"Actually, Conor's sticking around for a year." You shone your sunniest smile. "Cavalry training."

Like that, all hope and peace from your brother's eyes drained out of them like a light flickering off. You bit back a laugh, not fully trusting the still-raging look in Tommy's eye, nor Arthur's clenched fist.

"Fuckin' cavalry," John spat out under his breath.

Part 2 here

[1000fiction]

Day 10: Frottage ft. Brynjolf

Relationship:  Unspecified

Species: Unspecified

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Sexual Daydreams

Summary: Yet another cause for celebration has attracted quite the crowd to the Flagon, and whilst they’d rather be in each others company in private, a little party isn’t going to stop the Guildmaster from causing some mischief with their second in command. 

The Flagon was alive, truly alive. The alcoves were filled to the brim with trading merchandise, tables had been added to compensate for the sudden influx of patrons. Vekel’s bar had never been so busy, nor had his stocks been filled with such fine goods. The guild in every aspect had its soul back. Not a single member could’ve asked for more.

That was until the Guildmaster returned not a month later, a leather backpack stashing some of the rarest treasure few had laid their eyes upon.

With assistance from Vex, the legendary Crown of Barenziah had been reformed to its mythical glory, and now took pride of place amongst the guilds other keepsakes, right behind the Guildmaster’s desk.

What had once been a gloomy area due to Mercer's consistently foul mood, was now a reminder of what could be achieved. All thanks to the efforts of Brynjolf’s protégé.

The title of protégé had long been swept aside, however, as many would argue the new Guildmaster had far succeeded their second in command in skill - Brynjolf being one of few to disputed such a statement - but none could deny their shared title of lovers, for it seemed neither made an effort to disguise their relationship.

Not ones to miss a celebration down in the sewers, the thief of the hour and their second in command were in attendance at the central table, the Guildmaster nested in Brynjolf’s lap, bottle held loosely in their grip, and an easy smile upon their face as their free fingers stroked idly through fiery red hair.

“Never dared to dream the guild would come this far love,” he voiced, head rested against their shoulder as he sat in quiet contemplation, his slightly inebriated mind drifting through the feats and foes the pair had faced together “couldn’t have done any of this without you. Though I suppose I deserve some credit for finding you in the first place.” The Nord chuckled, hand idly running across his companion’s thigh.

“Very funny, lad.” They jested, poorly executing his accent as they ruffled his hair. “Though I suppose you’re right, I’d still be picking pockets and roaming free without you.” A pinch to their rear silenced them rather quickly. “Fine, fine, I’d be nothing without you, the guild would be nothing without you, you’re a hell of a man.”

“Oh, say that last part again, I think I like it.” He chuckled, nuzzling into the soft skin of their neck.

“You’re a hell of a man, Brynjolf, my man, to be exact.” Their tone dropped, sultry and smooth and their fingers trailed down to graze over the fine hairs at the back of his neck, using the leverage to pull themselves against him, strategically rubbing against his crotch.

His eyes widened as he looked them over incredulously, gaze flicking to the company they were surrounded by. He took note rather quickly that none were at all interested in the love birds, not when they had the choice to watch Delvin attempt to drag Vex onto a table for a dance. Though, perhaps they were all waiting for the fight that was likely to ensue.

The thoughts and fears of wondering eyes were swiftly cast aside, however, as his lover spun in his lap, resting their elbows on the table, thus slotting his already stiffening cock snugly between their buttocks.

He tested his grip and their hip, tugging and releasing in time with steady rocks back and forth. Attempting to look nonchalant, he looked towards Delvin’s drunken performance, though that was exceptionally difficult given the rising tightness in his leathers.

The Guildmaster on the other hand, seemed to be coping just fine – to his annoyance – as they had now begun conversing with Vipir and Cynric who neighboured them at the table. Though he barely registered what they said, his lover’s words must have been truly enthralling for neither of the lower members noticed the slow gyration of the Guildmaster’s hips, an action strikingly similar to ones performed between the lovers in the privacy of Honeyside. They had both been naked those times – he thought, bitterly – and as he recalled, his cock had also been buried in them, his name rolling off their tongue in amorous euphoria.

It was that moment he realised he would not be receiving such sounds. No words of praise, no unbridled cry of his name at their climax. It was torture.

Delicious, torture.

The groan he let out was intentional. Honest.

Vekel seemed to be the only one that noticed the strange occurrence, and in a shockingly quick moment of genius, Brynjolf snatched up his companion’s now empty bottle.

“Another round of your finest Vekel, for the finest thief in the guild, and for the finest thieves in all of Tamriel!” The flagon erupted in cheers, despite his hopes of distracting the revelers with alcohol, Brynjolf now felt far too many eyes on him.

“To the guild, to nocturnal, and most importantly, to getting drunk blind!” The Guildmaster leaned back into him, taking the new beverage from the passing barkeep, and raising it in toast, expertly covered his now prominent bulge with their rear in the process. All around took a swig of their drink before going back to enjoying the festivities.

Not long after did Delvin dive headfirst from his stage, giving the pair the perfect distraction, one the Guildmaster in its entirety.

Hands on his knees and feet firm to the ground, they bounced on the straining bulge of his cock, the contact sending torturous shockwaves through his aching shaft. He moaned again, though he was smart enough to muffle it, his face buried in their neck as stray strands of his hair tickled their cheek. They laughed merrily; any who happened to glance over would surely mistake their lustful disposition as an alcohol-fuelled daze. He felt them clench, his hands straying to their ass to feel the muscles tighten and release. By the nine he wished for nothing more than to take them there and then, bent face-first into the table, onlookers be damned.

They’d fucked several times in risky places, including the cistern, but never had he entertained the idea of having people intentionally see them. He surprised himself by finding the thought obnoxiously appealing.

He could imagine it now, his cock balls deep inside them, his hand at the back of their neck pressing them into their desk, their moans and gasps echoing around the cistern with each of his thrusts. Niruin would miss every shot at his target, Thrynn would miss every swing at the training dummy, and Cynric would no doubt break several lockpicks as he desperately tried to focus on his practice chests. All others that occupied the space would have to bury themselves in their beds, or watch.

It would certainly stop the lecherous gazes some of the newer recruits dared to throw at his lover, as all would finally be able to see how good he made them feel. And how no one would be able to stand up to such a performance.

Such thoughts swam in his mind for Gods only knew how long, and without his consent, his fingers dug harder into their hips, and he began rocking up into them. Thankfully, his conscious hadn’t left him entirely, for he didn’t move with the intensity he would usually use to chase his release. His lover helped him further – thank the Gods! – by clutching their stomach in theatrical laughter, the way their body rocked and quaked causing delicious friction against his oversensitive cock.

Brynjolf came hard.

Were it not for the quality of the Guildmaster uniform, he would’ve ripped holes where his fingers clung to them, their leathers bunched in his fingers as he slowly came down from his high, his mind still racing with unsavoury thoughts, and blood beading at his bottom lip from how hard he’d bit into it.

He felt them shift, felt his cum smearing against his softened cock within his own breeches, and felt the warmth of their side once again resting against his chest as it had been before this encounter.

“You’re lucky Vex finally decided to start a fight, otherwise someone surely would’ve noticed how dazed you’d become. I would’ve assumed you’d plain of existence, were it not for the way you desperately attempted to rut into me without someone noticing.” Their breath fanned his skin, cool against his burning cheeks. They lay a kiss to the flushed skin, gently smoothing back his stray hairs from his eyes. “What were you thinking about?”

“Can’t tell you I’m afraid, after the stunt you just pulled, I don’t want to go putting ideas in your head.” He chuckled, pulling them in for a sparingly chaste kiss.

With an arm wrapped securely around their waist, he was finally able to lurch forward and take his own renewed tankard from the table, clinking the metal gently against their bottle.

“But I do have a mind full of ways to punish you for all this. So long as you have a plan to get me out of here without everyone seeing I’ve soiled myself.”

[hxnmantii]

Happy Days

tw: fluff none

Pairings: Shigaraki x gn!reader

Ratings: PG

A/n: thank you for requesting a number @reds-side-biog !! (I didn’t know if you wanted to be tagged or not) But this is #69 in my drafts and at the bottom I have a screenshot of the idea itself! I cant tell if this ooc for him or not but I hope you enjoy it regardless!!

Request a number

Sunday was specifically for chores. It was ingrained into your head at a very young age; once the music started playing, it was time to start cleaning no matter what time it was. Now as a person who avidly played video games into the spawn of dawn, Shigaraki was not particularly a fan of this routine. Like clockwork, he would throw his covered hand over to the empty spot next to him, a deep sound of distraught leaving his lips as he forced himself to deal with the suddenly too big, too cold bed, eventually giving into the imaginary peer pressure and dragging his tired body from the comfortable mattress. He would be upset with you, a one sided arguement he never won as he trudged his lanky body through the hallway of your shared apartment because as soon as he set eyes on your dancing form, the villain always relaxed a bit more, smiled a bit more, and became a bit more vulnerable to your tactics.He would think to himself “maybe it’s not so bad”.

You would run into the villain’s hold, matching his equally tired smile before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips only for him to pull you back and give you a rare soft kiss that you greedily basked in before pulling away and out of his grasp, returning to your chore duty. Shigaraki, not without making a show of his irritation, would sit in a chair across from you, his eyes never leaving your form as you paraded across the apartment gracefully. Sometimes he would help with simple stuff like wiping down the counter or getting out the pans for breakfast but other than that he just sat. That was his routine every Sunday: you danced and cleaned while he watched.

Yet here you were, happily and confidently asking him to dance with you with the music as your backup. He would drag this city to the depths of hell if you uttered the words but this seemed like an impossible request of yours. So many could go wrong, he could accidentally decay something, he actually doesn’t know how to dance and worse of all he might hurt. That’s a consequence he couldn’t bear to handle so he’s hesitant, staring at your hand like a deer in headlights while his mind races a mile a minute.

As if you could read his mind, you place your soft palm on his cheek and stroke the rough flesh. “You’re not gonna hurt me Shiggy. Look see?” You say as you wind your hands through his. He looks down. Your hand is still in tack, you’re still here with him. He lets a small breath that gratefully unnoticed be you. “Now c’mon, can’t let the league know their big bad boss can’t dance now can we” a grin creeps along your face when he mumbles out a ‘shut up’ before sliding his other hand into yours. You take the opportunity to pull him closer, guiding his hands to the correct spots on your body.

He watches intently but his movements still lead with hesitation and confusion, causing him to stand stiff and awkward against you. You look him his eyes, a  mischievous glint in your eyes. “Do you trust me?”Your body is smushed together and he freezes. He knows that look well because that’s his look. He almost wants to laugh at the action, a look that he know you’re up to no good but he nods nonetheless, trusting you completely and fully. So as the next song rolls on, you swing him around the house, simplistic moves that he stumbles over making him flush in embarrassment and anger. Any type of laugher out of your mouth and he snapping his eyes to glare at you which only makes you laugh harder. But he doesn’t give up. Instead he concentrates hard enough to where he begins to lead you, a boasting smirk on his face.

And when the music comes to an end, you dip him, a puzzled looking appearing across his face as you only laugh and give him a fat kiss, slowly pulling him back up. He still trying to take in what just happened, his face tinted red, but in that moment as he watches you glow like an Angel, he decides he’s absolutely in love with you. He smiles back and for the first time in his life he lets out a genuine laugh.

[vostokovasmelina]

a whole night to ourselves.

for anonymous

pairing: tommy shelby x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

warning: i don’t think there’s any

request: Tommy Shelby x Reader; they are forced into an arranged marriage so the first months are really difficult but they learn to love each other

a/n: i really did try my best to develop their relationship in a one-shot only, let me know if it’s trash

Tommy knew he had to do it for the sake of his family and to restore peace between the two rival clans. He knew it was his duty to take you, the only unmarried daughter of the boss, as his wife. However, that did not mean he was a huge fan of the idea, since it wasn’t how he had planned it, how he imagined his life to be. Tommy had always thought he would marry for love, not for a cause and even though it was for the better for both parties, it still left a bittersweet feeling in his heart.

The same could’ve been said about you. You knew full well you had to do this for your family, but it didn’t stop you from getting deeply mad at your father for bringing you into his dirty business and using you as a tool to make up for his mistakes.

In all honesty, you dreaded getting married to Thomas Shelby. From what you’d heard of him, he seemed cold and distant, definitely not a joy to be around. So, how would he act towards a woman he knew nothing about and was forced to marry? You didn’t want to find out. This was definitely not what you had imagined every time you thought about married life- you had always pictured a loving husband and beautiful children, all of you living happily in peace, preferably far away from the dark Birmingham life. When you thought about life with Thomas Shelby, however, it was basically the opposite and you felt betrayed by your father and brothers.

Your wedding day must have been one of the hardest ones in your life. Your brand new husband didn’t even try to hide his lack of enthusiasm and once you were through with your first dance, Thomas quickly got rid of you and disappeared for the rest of the night. Little did you know, it would resemble your whole relationship. Or, more precisely, the first few months.

You knew full well that Thomas Shelby was not a talkative man. He wasn’t one for small talk, that was quite obvious from the start. You had never pushed it, never tried to force him into conversations he obviously didn’t want to be included in. You stayed patient, mostly waited for him to open up and finally start talking to you, the woman he was stuck with for the rest of his life. Most of the time, you got nothing from him. You only ever met him at the dinner table when he was in the mood to eat, but most nights, you had fallen asleep even before he got back from business. At first, you even soaked your pillow with tears shed for a life you were forced to give up to save your father and brothers’ ass, but Tommy knew nothing about that and you wanted to keep it that way.

However, the loneliness you had felt for so long because of your husband was soon getting the best of you, keeping you up all night, leaving you with all your thoughts. One night, you decided to light a cigarette and smoke your demons away in the hopes of calming your nerves and finally being able to go to bed. It definitely didn’t work out as planned. Tears had already started streaming down your cheeks by the second puff and you had no energy to stop them, so you just sat there on the king-sized bed you were supposed to share with Tommy, and let all your sadness and frustration leave your body with your salty tears. Just as you were putting out your cigarette in the ashtray, your husband stepped into the room, not even bothering to look at you, but once he heard your sniffling, he raised his eyes at you from under his eyelashes. You tried your best to act like nothing had happened, but you were late. Tommy had already stepped closer, looking you up and down with what seemed like concern in his pale blue eyes.

“Are you fine? Have you been crying?” He questioned, trying to catch your gaze but you refused to look up at him.

“I’m fine, it’s probably just allergies, I’ve been feeling a bit funny lately-,” you started, getting cut off by your husband the very next moment.

“Allergies don’t make people cry like that, Y/N. What is it that’s bothering you? You can tell me,” he said softly, sitting down at the edge of your bed. You could see he was contemplating whether or not to touch you, to put a hand on your knee but finally decided against it. You tried not to seem too disappointed.

“It’s fine, Tommy, really. Just a rough couple of days, this type of weather’s also getting me down,” you mumbled, your head still lowered in an attempt of avoiding your husband’s gaze. He was not a foolish man, though and he could easily see through you. However, he could also see you didn’t want to say any more, so after sitting there in complete silence for a few more minutes, Tommy eventually stood up and started undressing himself to get ready for bed. Even though you would have loved to watch him during the process, you decided to turn away and climb back under the blanket and put your mind to ease, getting at least a few hours of sleep before the first rays of the morning sun could hit your face. You didn’t expect to feel the weight of a strong arm on your waist and you definitely didn’t expect the effect it had on your mind and soul to finally fall asleep in your husband’s arms.

From that moment on, everything seemed to be improving. 

The very next morning, you woke up with Tommy’s bare chest still pressed against your back, his regulated exhales tickling your soft skin. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself at the sensation, carefully turning around so you wouldn’t wake him. You didn’t know the reason why Tommy was still in bed, since he’d always woken up in the early hours, much earlier than you. However, you didn’t mind to still find him in your bed, which actually felt shared now.

You had got lost in the sight of Tommy’s peaceful face and were only dragged back to the moment when you heard Tommy’s little groan as he was woken by the sunlight slipping through the crack between the heavy curtains. As he blinked his dreams away, his blue eyes met yours and for the first time in the long months of your marriage, they didn’t seem so cold anymore. You flashed a gentle smile at him, the gesture not being left unrequited as Tommy pulled you in to place a kiss on your forehead, and you really had to try your best not to seem way too astonished by the new found affection your husband seemed to have for you.

“How come you’re still in bed at this hour of the morning?” You asked curiously, placing an unsure hand on Tommy’s arm. You were quickly getting used to the changes in your relationship and you believed your husband didn’t mind them either.

“I needed a day off to finally spend some time with my wife. Thought that maybe we could take a walk in the gardens later today, if it’s alright with you,” he replied, looking deep in your E/C eyes, impatiently waiting for an answer. Your wide smile spoke for you.

“I would love that, Tommy Shelby.”

And oh how you loved it. As you were walking around in your own gardens, arm in arm with Tommy, you finally felt alive once again. You still couldn’t fully believe it was actually happening, it all felt like the most beautiful dream you could have ever had. You had even thought of pinching the skin on the back of your hand to see if you were actually awake.

That day had gone by way faster than you wanted it to, and you couldn’t help but feel disappointment as you saw the first stars on the clear night sky, indicating that it was time to head back to your house. You felt like a teenage girl when you felt your heart started racing faster as Tommy grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers and led you back to the gates of your mansion. As you stepped inside, you took your hat off and placed it on the drawer near you, getting yourself ready for the warm dinner that had already been waiting for you. However, once you tried to head towards the dining room, you could feel your husband’s long fingers wrap themselves around your wrist, pulling you back with such force that you fell right into Tommy’s chest. A shy laugh could still escape your lungs before he shut you up, using his own soft lips- the sun might have already set but you still had a whole night all to yourselves.

[tarantulas4davey]

Youtuber!Ralbert Au - Part Two

once again inspired by the wonderful and fabulous @we-are-inevitable and you can find her original concept here

part one to this series can be found here

and my valentine’s concept can be found here

i finally did it guys are you proud ✨

LETS DO THIS THING

now that we’re here, i realized i forgot some vital information last time (aka i hadn’t come up with it yet but ranting to jorja helped me solidify the world thank you mother goose)

so race’s online handle is radioactive racer, and albert’s is, as we know, chaotic red

both of these come from when they were in middle school and had just made vine accounts

albert’s entire account was just videos of race doing dumb shit while he cackled in the background

race’s was just memes

but because this was middle school, race looks WILDLY DIFFERENT compared to now

he was in his full dyed hair and guyliner phase, and before he grew 8 inches the summer before freshman year, so he’s fairly unrecognizable in the vines of him (plus,,,, they were dumb 13 year olds, only their friends saw their vines)

but there’s just,,,, an account full of very cringe videos of 7th grade racetrack higgins on the internet that nobody’s connected to them yet, so we’ll do something with that eventually

now back to your regularly scheduled programming ✨

so race and ‘red’ announced they were dating about a month ago, and it’s getting increasingly difficult to make sure al’s face isn’t visible in any clips

also both of their channels are gaining more traction, and race is getting recognized more in public (which he adores, i might add)

but it means that eventually someone’s going to make the connection between the redhead race is walking around with and chaotic red

so despite how anxious it makes him

how genuinely terrified he is that he won’t live up to expectations and everyone will be disappointed

he decides to post a Q&A video to his channel and reveal his identity

it starts with him adjusting the focus onto the couch in their living room, before his stocky frame, black sabbath shirt, jewelry and freckles walk on screen, and he sits down

if anybody had any idea what to expect, the crooked grin, lip ring and custom snapback probably weren’t terribly high on their list

he lets out a breath and his grin gets a bit wider, before he waves into the camera “hey guys! so,,,, this is probably a bit out of left field, but i wanted to properly introduce myself. i’m albert, nice to meet you, but please, call me red.”

his eyes flicker to behind the camera and he rolls his eyes slightly at race’s chuckling that barely audible to the audience

“don’t you dare laugh at me, i’ve never done this before!”

“you’re doing great babe, you’re just a massive dork.”

“stuff it, blondie.”

al can’t really hold back his laughter, not completely, so he huffs a bit before turning back to the camera and properly answer questions to “let the people get to know me”

the dynamic from race’s original video revealing their roommates is flipped

the audience finally getting to see that albert’s grin pulls up slightly farther on the left side than the right

or that he fidgets with his lip ring when he’s thinking through an answer

or the utterly s o f t look he has in his eyes when he looks at racer, one that seriously doesn’t match his mischievous expression or abrasive voice

he answers questions with more ease than he expected, excited to finally be sharing, but once it comes time to hit upload he freezes

“race i don’t think i can do this”

“of course you can sweetheart, everyone already loves you”

“but what if they’re disappointed? what if i’m not cool or interesting or attractive enough? what if-“

“al i k n o w you did not just look at me with t h a t face and claim to not be ‘attractive enough’. attractive enough for who, red? people that are gonna say mean shit anyway?”

al ends up hitting the upload button and promptly hitting his forehead on his desk in anguish cause holy shit what’d i just do

all his worrying ends up being for nothing because everyone absolutely adores him and won’t stop saying how p r o u d they are and how pretty he is

“i told you, dumbass. you’re the prettiest person i know.”

“stop it, you sap.”

he starts using face cams for his (and race’s, when he’s on the chaotic red channel) gameplays and his focused face is s o c u t e

race finally doesn’t have to be sneaky or beg him to take pictures anymore

race is also incredibly excited to not have to aggressively edit all his videos to make sure you can’t see al’s face/hear his name in any of them

race “accidentally” leaves the clip of them slow dancing in the kitchen to ed sheeran in the vlog right after the face reveal

when al next films a sit down video, race is behind the camera, and they’re going through old pictures of albert from childhood (most of them have race in them too, he might as well be there)

this is when the fans discover albert blushes when he’s embarrassed

this video is also how everyone connects the old chaotic red vine account to them and race is m o r t i f i e d

they make it to a picture of them just after they got together, race leaning into albert’s side loosing his shit at something jack is doing off camera, but in-the-picture albert is too busy looking completely head over heels for race to notice whatever they’re doing over there

al just grins and looks up at race with the same stupid mushy expression

“that’s when i knew i was really in love with you”

you can basically hear race m e l t behind the camera and he just tackles al into a hug on the couch and it’s SUCH a cute couple-y moment

“yeah, and you were calling m e the sap earlier. s u r e, whatever helps you sleep at night, albie.”

“it ain’t sappy if it’s true, tonio.”

and editing-al cuts it off, but race had untucked his face from al’s neck and dragged him into a kiss

when he finally got back to filming, al may or may not have had to use cover up on his neck to make it less conspicuous, but that’s neither here nor there to be honest

also this isn’t a necessary addition but every once in awhile race or al will forget to cover up marks on their necks before filming and get absolutely ROASTED on twitter

i have a thousand more ideas for this au so i promise i will be making more at some point but here’s ✨this✨ for now

lmk if you want me to add you to a tag list or whatever cause i’m down with that

ok fín

[sunflowersteves]

𝒇𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒃𝒇 ❅ 𝒃𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒔

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: you needed someone to be your partner to make the holidays with your parents bearable, and bucky was just the man for the job. 

author’s note: ssks im rlly don’t like this v much but i had no idea what else to write for fake dating au, i hope you all like it tho sjsjs

warnings: fluff, a little bit of angst, bad parents

holiday prompts m.list

Your leg bounced up and down, making soft noises against the padding of the passenger seat. Bucky let his eyes off the road for just a second, his eyes trailing up and down your nervous state. His attention goes back to the busy highway before speaking. 

“Hey, you’re going to be fine.”

You roll your eyes, “easy for you to say, you’ve never met my parents.”

He chuckles, the deep and low sound vibrating against his chest. You could’ve sworn your stomach did summer salts, your heart beating faster by the second. Despite being insanely nervous about Bucky meeting your parents and them finding out it is all a ruse, there was a large part of you that was scared beyond belief about him being your pretend partner. 

You had originally asked Sam to be your fake boyfriend instead, but he had to go back home to see his mom, and Bucky immediately offered his services. You knew he didn’t like you in the way you liked him, so the thought of being his girlfriend for a day terrified you. 

And so here you were, legs bouncing up and down, heart palpitating, sweat forming in the passenger seat of Bucky’s car. He looked over at you once again, his ocean eyes meeting yours for just a split second. There was a kind of look on his face that you couldn’t quite comprehend, a storm brewing in his head. 

“Are they really that bad, doll?”

Your heart fluttered at the little nickname, and you shifted in your seat, trying to ignore the way it made you feel. A sigh left your lips as your head turned to stare out the window, eyes following all of the places you would go to as a kid. 

“They had their whole life planned for me and would always tell me that if I didn’t follow their every footstep, I wouldn’t be allowed back home. There was always a joking hint to what they were saying, but I knew there was truth to what they were saying. I don’t even remember the last time they have talked to me without mentioning money, or even an ‘i love you.’”

Bucky’s hands gripped the steering wheel as he thought about the pressures that your family had put you through; all of your insecurities that you laid upon each other during long nights had all come together. 

Before you could say anything more, Bucky pulled up into your parent's driveway, “we’re here.”

He had given your thigh a small squeeze in support before the two of you got out of the car. You held in a deep breath as he softly knocked on the door, and a hand came to wrap itself around your waist. He felt you tense under his touch, and he gave your love handles a little squeeze.

He whispered into your ear, his breath fanning up against it, “we’ll be okay. I’ll be right beside you, okay?” 

You felt yourself slowly nod, and your eyes trialing up to look at him. Your mother opened the door and smiled, immediately ushering the two of you in. You took off your jackets and followed her into the living room where your father sat reading a newspaper. 

“Welcome home.” 

Her eyes snapped over towards Bucky beside you, a smirk rising as she saw the expensive suit. You all tried to spread out in the small space; your body was practically on top of Bucky on the sofa. A certain warmth spread through your body as Bucky took his hand in yours; the pads of his fingers skating onto your hand made you shiver.

“Who’s this?”

The air was thick with tension as the silence rose beneath the walls of the house. There wasn’t a single sense of warmth that you felt from your parents, just a cold welcome home. Every single time you had come home for the holidays, it was always the same.

They would ask you how your job was, and if you were following the path they set for you, they would cook dinner and eat in silence, prompting them to pat you on the back and sending you away again. The Avengers felt more like your family than your own family ever did. 

Your father didn’t even look up from reading when he spoke; you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Bucky could sense your discomfort and squeezed your hand, his thumb swiping back and forth in support. 

“This is my boyfriend, Bucky.”

You could see from the corner of your eyes that your mother tensed; it was quite visible. Your hand subconsciously squeezed Bucky’s; your eyes danced in between your parents as they shared a look.

“What an odd name.”

He just chuckled beside you, and you were about to open your mouth, but he beat you to it. 

“It’s a nickname, miss. My first name is James.”

She pursed her lips in disapproval still, your eyebrow-raising slightly at her behavior. You haven’t been here for five minutes, and you already wanted to dart out the door. If you were being honest, you would have been perfectly content spending the holidays with just Bucky and Bucky alone. 

“What do you do for a living, Bucky? I noticed your exquisite tailored suit. Maybe a CEO perhaps?”

There was another beat of silence as you wanted to roll your eyes again. You leaned against the coffee table to grab a glass of eggnog, taking a few large sips. This was going to be a long night. 

“I’m a part of the Avengers, I work to protect global stability and peace.”

Your father almost choked on her vodka, the name Bucky Barnes now popped into frame. He knew that name was familiar and he finally understood why. He set his drink down and gently wiped his lips with a napkin. 

“Really? That’s not what the news said, isn’t that right, dear?”

He turned towards your mother, a slight gleam in his eye that was set with a hard look. 

She nodded, “You’ve been on the news for terrorism. That doesn’t sound like global stability to me.”

You felt Bucky go still next to you, his face falling in despair. You felt your blood boil and your heart race against your chest in such ire. But before you could say anything, your mother spoke up again. 

“Sounds like you are nothing but trouble to me. How do we know you’re not here to kill our daughter? You’re a murderer, and yet you think you’re good enough to date my daughter?”

“Enough!” 

Your parents stare at you wide-eyed at your outburst. Your hand that wasn’t intertwined with bucky’s had tightened into a fist. 

“If you had paid attention, mother, you would’ve found out that he was being controlled by Hydra. Bucky is the sweetest—nicest person that I have ever met. He is such a goofball, but he’s the smartest person I know. He’s attentive and sweet; he takes care of me when I’m sick and a coughing mess. He stays up late when I can’t sleep, trying to entertain me,” you pause, your face turning towards his for just a second, his eyes wide and searching your face for any lie. He found none. 

“He’s more family to me than you two will ever be. Now if you’ll excuse us, we’ll be leaving now.”

You don’t waste a single moment before dragging Bucky out of there and trying to gather your things as quickly as possible. Before getting into the car, you stop him by gripping his wrist. Your eyes well with tears as you thought about what your parents had said to him. 

“I’m so sorry, Buck. I should’ve never brought—”

Your eyes widened in surprise as you felt a pair of soft lips on yours, large hands cupping the apples of your cheeks. Your lips melded with his, and you started to relax, letting out a whine at the fiery sensation. Your hands move down his chest, nails dragging against the coarse material of his dress suit. His tongue is devouring your mouth, his heart pounding against yours in a loving embrace. 

“I’m never letting you go, sugar.”

marvel: @harrysthiccthighss @fandomsandxfiles @rebekahdawkins @purselover23

bucky: @harrysthiccthighss @rebekahdawkins @marvelous-capsicle @purselover23

permanent: @captainchrisstan @angstysebfan @teenagereadersciencenerd @rebekahdawkins @hailmary-yramliah​ @stardust-galaxies @wiccanmetallicrose @keithseabrook27

[justcourttee]

So you are one of my favorite writers for the Maribat Fandom and this is litterally like just on the edge getting ready to dive into barely there territory. . . but imagine Chloe "Queen B" Bourgeois deciding that Roy Harper is her future husband because he is the only one her age with the potential to even hyphenate Queen. She /will/ get her title in her civilian life if she has to drag Roy to the courthouse herself. Cue shenanigans and chaos friends to lovers lol

You’re so sweet and I hope I did your prompt justice. I love the Roy X Chloe energy and this is just something I could picture cannon Chloe trying. I hope you enjoy! @risaxtitan

The Future Mrs. Queen

The day Oliver Queen announced to the world in that fated press conference that he was adopting Roy Harper, the younger boy had no idea how much his life was about to change.

He was still floating on Cloud 9 as he stepped off of the stage and into the crowd where his friends awaited him.

“Dude, congrats! It’s like all official now!” Adrien clapped him on the back, causing him to stumble forward a little.

“It still feels unreal.”

“Tt, it’s not like your his blood son, but I suppose this will be a good opportunity for you.”

Roy cocked his head to the side as he tried to debate if Damian was congratulating him or not. A small smack echoed following an ‘oof’ as Marinette’s bright smile entered his view.

“I’m so happy for you Roy! Conner, Jon, and Wally wanted to come with us, but you know how it goes. Always a mission somewhere.”

Roy shook his head, the smile still plastered across his face.

“It’s fine Mari, it’s not like today was the real thing. This was just a press conference. They were there when we officially signed the papers and that’s what matters in my book.”

“So, like, is your last name officially Queen now?”

Roy’s attention snapped to his left where a familiar blonde stepped out from behind Adrien. She fiddled with the ends of her curled hair, her mischievous blue eyes locked onto his. Certainly if a beautiful girl like her had told him her name, he wouldn’t have forgotten it.

“I suppose so. It’s officially Roy William Harper-Queen.”

Her smile was blinding as he nervously reached back to rub the back of his very warm neck.

“Oh Gods, we are so dense! I’m sorry Roy! This is my friend Chloe Bourgeois! Adrien was supposed to introduce you two earlier, but we all got separated in the crowd. She’s a big fan of Oliver Queen, so when she heard my dear friend was getting adopted by him-”

“I just had to come.” She stepped in front of Marinette, reaching forward to grab his hand. “Did you know that I tried to legally change my name to Queen? But my mother wouldn’t let me! She’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. Something about it wouldn’t be good for my modeling career or whatever. But now, you can help me with that! Can’t be bad if it’s my husband’s last name.”

Roy stumbled out of her grasps, his entire face matching the red on his head.

“Hu-husband? Girl, we just met. You can’t go around saying things like that!”

Chloe waved off his embarrassment as her blinding smile pulled into a mischievous smirk.

“Like it or not Roy Harper-Queen, you will be my husband, even if I have to drag you to the courthouse myself!”

“Yeah right blondie.” He couldn’t help the stutter in his voice as he hid behind Damian’s chuckling figure.

There was no denying how attractive she was, but he would be damned if he let a pretty blonde step in and seal his fate.

“Maybe not today, but you’re going to love me Roy Harper-Queen, just you wait.”

The flip of her hair felt like a slap across his face as he watched her retreating figure dragging Marinette with her.

“So like, Can I be your best man? I know that you’ve known the other’s longer and all, but like we are always hanging out together! That has to count for something.”

Adrien’s wide eyes and pout earned a slight chuckle from the redhead as his eyes trailed back to where his friends stood.

“Sure Agreste, I’m sure everyone won’t mind one bit. You might have to fight Tim-”

“Tt, is that supposed to be a threat?”

Adrien and Roy shared a look before bursting into laughter. Roy slung his arms around the two boys as they headed off into the crowd. He wouldn’t see Chloe for another couple of weeks, but that didn’t stop the blonde from monopolizing his every thought.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“C’mon Arsenal, you really going to let your ass get beat by a little girl?”

Roy sneered as he pushed himself off the matt for the third time that day.

When Dick asked if he wanted to train with the Batclan, Roy was over the moon. Batman hardly let anyone into his special training spot without him being there. He didn’t think twice when he put the motorcycle in park outside of Wayne Manor. He already knew what to expect, Dick’s flexibility, Stephanie’s strategy, Damian’s rage. What he wasn’t expecting was to see a certain blonde and his two friends.

“She’s not beating my ass Stephanie, I just don’t want to hurt her.”

Dick had a hard time holding back his laugh as he leaned on Marinette for support. A hand shot into his line of view as he accepted Chloe’s helping pull him the rest of the way to his feet.

“C’mon mon chéri, your face is pretty too, but it’s not going to make me pull my punches. Give it to me, cherry.” She sent a wink in his direction as she set up for another spar.

If you asked Roy later, the red in his cheeks was from the anger at being called a cherry, but anyone could see the blush betraying him.

Chloe darted forward, dodging his first swing before smacking his butt.

“HEY!”

Roy pushed himself out of her reach as Stephanie and her shared a fist bump. There was no way he was getting out of training alive. He needed a way to finish this as quickly as possible.

“Blondie, what if we make a bet?”

Chloe raised her eyebrow at him, encouraging him to continue as she set herself back up in the circle.

“The next one of us to pin the other gets to pick the next hang out spot. I know it’s your turn in the rotation, so if you win, nobody will put a restriction on your choice.”

Her eyes glistened dangerously as a collective gasp sounded behind them.

“Hey, Roy, are you sure you want to do that? She-”

“Shut it Agreste. The boy has named his terms, no restrictions for me, or he gets to steal my turn. I’ll gladly accept Ginger.”

A sudden shift in the atmosphere was easily noticeable. Inadvertently, a shiver went down his back as every hair on his body stood in high alert. Her first strike was quick, he barely lifted his arms up in time to block it before she had hopped backwards, ready to hit again.

He thought he was the one holding back before, but clearly he was underestimating. Here she was, no longer holding back, toying with him as if he was nothing more than her prey. It was a bit terrifying.

Just as he extended his arm to try and make contact, Roy suddenly found himself on his back, her knee at his throat.

“God, when did you even knock my feet out?”

Her eyes were dancing with humor as she slowly stood, offering her hand to the boy below.

“We tried to warn you, my friend. Chloe doesn’t do competition, she destroys them.”

Adrien offered his hand as well and together the two blondes heaved him to his feet. Marnette shook her head solemnly as she and Dick mock prayed for Roy’s fate.

“So, no restrictions huh? That means overseas is fair game.” Chloe placed a hand gently on Roy’s shoulder sending a chill down his spine. “Guess tomorrow, we are going to Paris, France. Richard, is there a Zeta-Tube that does overseas?”

Dick finished his mock prayer before sending a nod in her direction.

“Perfect. Marinette, tell your little gloomy boyfriend and Timothy that we will be taking a day trip tomorrow, to the city of love.”

She sent a wink to Roy as she stepped out of the rink to grab her towel. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t ignore the racing in his heart all from one little comment.

“You are falling so hard, my friend!” Roy flinched as Dick threw his arm over his shoulder, sharing a fist bump with Adrien.

“I am not! I barely know her! We’re like acquaintances, at most she’s just a friend.”

Adrien stiffened as he bit back his laughter.

“Just you wait, after tomorrow, you’ll be questioning everything you know.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Roy was indeed questioning everything, like his sanity, as he stepped out of the tube and onto the tallest platform of the Eiffel Tower. Taking a quick step back from the edge, he found himself pressed against the cool metal.

“Isn’t it like illegal to be this high up?”

Chloe’s giggle filled the air as she smacked his arm lightly.

“Of course it is, for normal people that is. We can’t just have everyone using the Zeta tubes ginger.” Her fingers curled into his hair as she gave it a light ruffle.

“Tt, man up Harper. Even if you fall, it’s not like you’d hit the ground before someone here saved your sorry ass.”

A small ‘oof’ echoed from where Damian stood as Marinette stepped out of the tube.

“You didn’t even hear what I said!”

“True,” she shrugged, a smug smile pulling at her lips. “But I assume you were making fun of Roy.”

Damian huffed under his breath as he snaked his arm around her waist, drawing her into his side. Roy was never sure how someone like Damian could have landed a sweet angel like Marinette, but if it meant he had a constant guardian angel, he could care less.

“Where’s Adrikins?”

“He said, and I quote, ‘I don’t want to be a third wheel and neither does Tim.’”

Chloe rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide the sparkle from the new information.

“Looks like it’s a double date!” She gripped Roy’s arm pulling him from his safety. “You wouldn’t leave me alone to those two annoying lovebirds would you Harper?”

Roy gulped nervously as his eyes darted between the couple and the blonde hanging off of him. With a sigh of defeat, he nodded, allowing her to pull him closer to the edge.

“I hope you’re ready Harper because if you survive today, there’s no way you won’t fall for me.”

Without warning, Chloe used all her strength to push him off the platform. The scream caught in his throat as the wind rushed past him. Some first date! Here she was trying to kill him within the first five minutes!

A flash of yellow flew past him, catching his attention briefly before an arm yanked him out of midair. This time, the scream managed to slip out, but instead of fear, he felt instant relief as he flew through the air pinned to Queen Bee’s side.

“There was an easier way of doing this Chloe!” He tried to shout over the wind but it felt useless. The only indication that she might have heard his pleas came from the sideways smile she flashed him as the came to a halt in an alleyway.

As his feet touched to ground, his legs instantly gave out. On his hands and knees, Roy reassured himself that this was safe, in solid ground. Moments later, a flash of pink blinded him as Marinette and Damian landed in front of him.

“What’s wrong Harper? You look a little green. I thought that was Oliver’s color.”

Roy’s middle finger only seemed to fuel the egotistical smirk Damian bestowed on him.

“If that was too much, I can’t wait to see how you handle the rest of the day.”

His eyes widened as he tried to imagine what could be worse than freefalling a few hundred feet from the highest structure in Paris. Little did he know, he would soon get his answer.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Bourgeois.” He tried to keep his voice steady as he offered his hand to her, but the condescending stare made him want to crumble.

“What do you expect me to do? Shake your hand? Honey, you may have been adopted into money, but you are not money. I do not touch any person that is worth less than I am.”

She turned her back briskly as Roy slowly dropped his hand, unsure of whether to be insulted or not.

“Mom, Roy is my friend, can’t you be nice?”

Her mother’s cold glare rested on Chloe. Roy had no idea how she managed to stand her ground. He wanted to crumble for her.

“You are lucky I let you into my workshop after you have missed the past three fittings. When I said you could move to America with the Marianne kid, I expected you to still make time for the business. Should I begin looking for your replacement?”

The tension between the two of them was deadly. Roy wanted to step in, tell her mother to back off, that Chloe was a hero who didn’t always have time for fashion, but somehow, he figured it would only make it worse.

“No mother, I am here now am I not? Let us work quickly so that I can return home.”

Her tone was icy as she stepped forward, holding out her arms for her mother to remeasure. Roy shifted from foot to foot as he held back his tongue. Her mother commented on her weight gain, complained that she was going to begin to fat to be her model anymore. She commented on her studies, or lack of, and on her being a class d hero compared to Superman.

It was to quietest he had ever seen Chloe Bourgeois.

“If that will be all mother, Roy and I have to meet up with Damian and Marinette.”

Her mother waved her off. Not a single love you, not even a real goodbye. Roy was sure his face matched his hair by the time they had set foot back into the streets.

“So, Mari’s parent's house isn’t too far from here. Wanna swing over?”

It was as if a switch flipped. Back was the flirty social butterfly that he had gotten to know over the past couple of weeks.

“Chloe.”

“C’mon carrot top, swinging really isn’t a bad way to transport. It’s quick and effective.”

“Chloe.”

“Don’t be a chicke-”

“Chloe.”

He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but he knew what she was trying to do.

“Chloe, why do you let her treat you like that?”

Her lips were pressed into a tight line as she turned, taking a step away from the building.

“Chloe, you don’t have to pretend that it didn’t happen. I’m not going to tell anyone, it’s just, the Chloe I saw in there is nothing like the one I’ve come to know.”

“Well, maybe all you know is a lie.”

Her voice was quiet as she took off at a brisk pace down the street. It took Roy a second to process before he took off after her. Gently, he pulled her arm until she came to a stop once more.

“Then let me get to know the real Chloe. After all, I can’t marry someone I don’t know!”

She laughed half-heartedly at his joke, her smile weak.

“She isn’t very good with her emotions and neither am I. I know that she cares, hell, she wouldn’t let me explore this hero side of me if she didn’t think I had potential. But she always puts business first. I never wanted to go into business with her because she can’t separate family and employees. But I need the money. Daddy won’t let me touch my trust fund until I am secure on my own.”

Roy nodded, a number of things falling into place.

“Why don’t you work for Oliver or Bruce like the rest of us?”

Chloe shrugged, her fingers absentmindedly reaching for his.

“They have offered before, but I really feel like the way to her heart is through the family business. I know she wants to leave it to me one day and if I abandon it now, she might reconsider, and honestly, that would hurt her more than me. She’ll never say it to my face, but it would mean the world to me if I could be her legacy.”

A moment of silence passed, and then two as Roy admired the determination that crossed her face. Somehow, it made her more beautiful than she already was. He hadn’t even noticed how close they had gotten until a soft cough snapped him back to reality.

“Well, we only left you for like two hours. Is this a new development?”

Marinette and Damian shared a smirk as Chloe dropped his hand as if it was burning her. She tried to pull up her scarf, but it was too late. The red on her cheeks were burning, matching his he was sure.

“I don’t know what you are referring to Dupain-Cheng. Let’s head back to the tower. A certain blonde must feel my wrath.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

As Roy laid in bed that night, his thoughts kept wandering back to that moment.

She was so close, her lips were so close, so full, so red. They were drawing him in and if Marinette hadn’t stopped them..

“Ughh,” he buried his red face into his pillow, willing his pounding heart to still.

He rolled over to where his phone sat, the dark screen bugging him. Not a single text from her after they returned, not even one from Marinette or Damian teasing him. Reaching out, he lifted the phone toward his face.

Clicking on his photos, the most recent one lit up his entire screen, sending his heart into another fury. Chloe had borrowed his phone, leaving several adorable selfies that he only found a couple hours later.

Not that he wanted to admit it to anyone, but maybe he could admit to himself that just maybe, he was already head over heels for Chloe Bourgeois.

Just as he moved to place it back onto his charger, a text message pinged.

‘Still awake carrot top?’

Roy couldn’t help the smile that tore across his face.

‘Depends. Whose asking blondie?’

‘You’re ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. Now open your window, my arm is getting tired.’

Instantly, Roy shot up as he opened his window. Looking around, he couldn’t find her. He was ready to close it when his instinct told him to look up. Sure enough, Queen Bee sat dangling, motioning for him to move out her way.

With one great heave, Chloe swung into his room, dropping her transformation before her feet even touched the ground.

“Miss me that much?”

The sound of his own voice was foreign as his wide smile was certain to leave his cheeks sore in the morning.

“Oh don’t get full of yourself Harper. I just wanted to thank you for today.”

“Mhmm, this seems mighty personal for a thank you.” He took a step forward, his stomach flipping multiple times.

“I may have also wanted to see you. After all, no text, no call. How is a girl supposed to feel after you almost kiss her?”

She stepped forward closing the gap between them, the smirk on her face as graceful as ever.

“I could say the same thing about you. Running off to another man after spending a day in the city of love with me?”

Hestitanly, he raised his hand to cup her cheek, basking in the feeling of how soft her skin felt against his palm.

“Harper, I want to be to future Mrs.Queen, so what do you say? The courthouse is still open in Paris, we can go right now.”

Roy couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. Gently, he stroked the side of her cheek, admiring her every feature. Leaning forward, he heard her breath hitch in her throat right as their lips were a mere inch apart.

“How about we start with a first date? A real date?”

Chloe’s warm breath tickled his lips as his pounding heart awaited her answer.

“I suppose Mrs. Queen will have to wait, I’ll pick you up, tomorrow Harper. Be ready.”

Just as quickly as he leaned in, she lept back, already calling her transformation. Racing to the window, she looked over her shoulder, blowing him a kiss before slinging away. Hesitantly, he approached the window, watching her retreating figure, his heart still racing a million miles a minute.

It started off a soft chuckle, but it soon grew. With a grand smile, Roy returned to his bed, his thoughts all centered around one blonde. Marriage was sounding less and less like the scary thought he had when he first met her. He wasn’t sure the exact moment that it sounded so good, but he didn’t care.

After all, Chloe Harper-Queen had a nice ring to it.

Permanent Tag List:

@ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava @iamablinkmarvelarmy @seraphkitty @clumsy-owl-4178 @pawsitivelymiraculous @mialuvscats @leagrey @smolplantmum @animegirlweeb

[def-initely-soul]

house rules {1}

pairing: jimin x reader (f.)

genre: fluff; angst; roommates au; kinda new girl au; smut; f2l au

rating: explicit

warnings: sexual content; mention of emotional abuse; mention of manipulative relationship; mention of body issues; explicit smut

words: 26.3k

summary:

↠ {living with two guys has always its pros and cons. Pros being someone will always get you popcorn for your midnight cravings. Cons being you might like one of them…?} ↞

or alternatively, the shenanigans of five friends, where two of them are in a loving relationship, one is Kim Seokjin and the other two don’t know what the fuck they’re doing

.

.

The clock on the other side of the wall keeps ticking, each second driving you closer to madness over the insistent sound.

You click your pen open and closed. Open and closed. Open and closed.

And yet you still have no freaking clue on how to begin this godawful novel.

Godawful as in the mere effort it takes for it to come to life is starting to make you want to flick yourself off from a window.

Like, god, you’ve been staring at an empty piece of paper for almost two hours now, your coffee’s gone cold.

And yeah you write in paper. No laptop, no typewriter, just you, your pen and a currently empty piece of paper. It seems more direct, more intimate this way. Put you in front of a blank screen and your brain will surely follow it.

Although, today it doesn’t seem like you have much luck with paper either.

With a tired sigh, you rest your mighty pen on your desk, taking out your noise-cancelling earbuds and stand up from your chair.

You stretch out your limbs, your back already killing you from hunching over your desk for two hours now and you trudge over to the living room where the rest of your friends are having a movie night.

“Guys, the old crone decided to join us…” Hoseok comments from his side of the small couch as you drag your feet to your designated spot beside Jimin on the big couch.

“Quick, hide your popcorn, and hide your jelly beans!” Seokjin joins in on the mocking as Jimin scans through Netflix for a decent movie none of you has seen yet.

You know you’ll end up watching Dirty Dancing again because the chances of finding a movie none of you has seen yet are nearly non-existent.

 “Ha, ha, your superior sense of humour is astounding…” you mumble as you sit cross-legged on the couch and Ana turns to you from her spot next to Hoseok.

“No luck with the novel still huh?” her eyes are looking at you sympathetically and you grumble a response, crossing your arms on your chest.

“Don’t worry, Y/N, it’ll come to you eventually,” Seokjin says, stretching his hand from his armchair to your right to nudge your knee and you let a deep breath infiltrate your lungs once he retracts it.

Jimin gives you a side glance before his eyes return to the screen. “Yeah, until she gets a different idea and the cycle repeats itself.”

“Hey!” you lightly punch your best friend in the ribs, earning a groan from him, “I just have to find a way to start this bloody thing and then it’ll turn out to be the greatest book in the century, you’ll see!” you defend your cause, eyes wide and challenging on Jimin who simply smiles at you with a winning smirk.

“That’s more like it…” he replies, the glint in his eyes your only hint giving away the intention behind his words and again you groan. Refusing to let the smile on your lips appear.

“I hate you when you do that…” you mumble, a small note of fondness only Jimin can distinguish, hiding in your voice as he finally picks his choice of a film with a smile hanging from his lips.

“Shh, the movie’s starting!” Ana interrupts everyone when -surprise surprise- Dirty Dancing starts playing. All of you have a certain liking towards the movie- I mean what’s not to like? Summer romance? Patrick Swayze with half-open shirts? Heated dancing? With Patrick Swayze?- but you can say for certain Ana takes the cake as a Dirty Dancing fan.

“How can you still be this much excited for this movie?” Hoseok comments from beside her and even though he sounds judgey there’s only lovesick fondness in his eyes when he looks at Ana.

Although when Ana turns to look at her boyfriend, she looks completely serious. “Keep this up and no sex for a month. We don’t condone this kind of behaviour in this house.”

You and Jimin try to suppress your giggles as Hoseok’s eyes widen in fear. “You can’t do that, what about you?!”

Ana simply smiles back with too much sweetness. “My hands aren’t just good for making you cum, babe.”

Disgusted protests come from the rest of the group as you’re sure you won’t ever be able to unhear this.

“Why, why did we have to hear that?” Jimin complains as Seokjin makes a gagging sound next to him.

Hoseok just smiles. “Oh, come on Jimin, don’t act like you didn’t enjoy tapping this hot piece of ass!” and another round of puking sounds emerges in the room.

Truth is Ana didn’t date Hoseok in the beginning. In reality, she got added to your group only after she started going out with Jimin in the second year of college. And even though she and Jimin didn’t work out in the end, she had already become an essential part of your group and they even remained great friends after the breakup.

Not long after that Hoseok asked her out. And you swear no couple ever made more sense than those two. Although you really hate when they get down and dirty in Hoseok’s room which is right next to yours.

You first started living with Hoseok and Jimin in the first year of college, five years ago. Jimin was a guy you barely knew from high school but he was the greatest of options you had when looking to share an apartment with someone. You didn’t want to live in a dorm but it wasn’t like your parents were rich or something, so there was no way for them to afford an apartment just for you. So looking for a roommate was the best solution.

Hoseok came a little bit afterwards. You and he shared a class and you became friends fairly quickly. So when he told you the situation at his dorm was unbearable, you couldn’t help but think of the empty bedroom in your apartment. And the rest is history.

Seokjin became a part of your group only months before Ana did. He and Jimin worked at the same part-time job as waiters in a local restaurant. And while Seokjin went forward to run his own restaurant and Jimin followed his passion as a dance instructor their friendship persevered. So it wasn’t long before he joined your group.

And it wasn’t long before you got this stupid crush on him.

Not that it matters anyway. He doesn’t know and you don’t plan on ever telling him to be honest. You know how easily things could go wrong and you’re fine with simply being his friend.

“Okay, babe, that’s enough for now…” Ana quiets down her boyfriend with a small kiss on his lips and finally pipes down to focus on Patrick Swayze’s biceps.

Your eyes rest on the screen as another exhausted sigh escapes you. This novel is your chance of having something of yours published. What if you can’t make it in time? What if it’s shit? What if you finally realize after all this time that being a writer was never what you were supposed to be and all those years believing that were in vain? What if-?

Your thoughts get interrupted when you feel a palm laying across your knee and squeezing it gently.

The fog in your head clears a bit when you find Jimin looking at you with a soft smile. One that tells you not to worry. Jimin could always read you like a book so it’s no surprise he could sense you spiralling.

And it’s not a surprise that with a single look he can calm down your racing thoughts.

He’s one of your closest friends after all.

.

.

“Hoseok you can’t keep using Ana’s departure as an excuse to not help with cleaning up!” you yell towards the couple saying goodbye at the front door, while Seokjin giggles as he dries out some of your plates.

“Shut up, you heathen, this is true love we’re talking about! Also, I can and I will!” your roommate yells back and you roll your eyes. On the other side of the room, Jimin picks up several empty beer cans as Ana kisses her boyfriend.

“Go on, babe, before they drive a stick through your ass,” she chuckles.

Hoseok pouts, the gesture almost etched to his features by now. “Oh, and you haven’t even done it that thing you wanted yet!”

“Again keep your weird sexual life out of this god-respected household,” Jimin comments and at once everyone turns to stare at him confused.

He stares back before, “Okay, yeah, I just heard it…” then he proceeds to take the trash out.

Ana chuckles before pressing another kiss on Hoseok’s lips. “Okay, I’m off. Bye guys!” to which you all respond with a chorus of “byes”.

Hoseok closes the door with a dreamy sigh before trekking over to the kitchen island to watch as you and Seokjin clean up. “Is it weird that I miss her already?”

Seokjin coos at the same time you react too. Although your reaction comes closer to a gagging sound and now both of them look at you like you just kicked a puppy.

You clear your throat, “oh, I- I meant… ''awww”...” you reply quickly, avoiding their stares to clean up the rest of the plates.

“Don’t mind her Hobi, she's just jealous,” Seokjin comments as he rests his towel on his shoulder.

At that, you scoff. You’re not jealous! You just hate corny things!

“Jealous? Pff. Who says they miss someone right after they leave? That’s just cheesy! I mean, yeah, you and Ana are perfect for each other, you’re cute together and you complete each other, and there’s intimacy and feelings and mutual respect…” your voice becomes sadder at the end and ultimately fades out, leaving you staring at the floor.

Where were you going with this?

The guys look at you with knowing glances and you groan out loud.

“Oh, shut your faces. I’m not jealous!” “Who’s not jealous?” Jimin asks once he’s back into the apartment.

“Y/N, of our relationship,” Hoseok’s quick to respond.

“Yours and mine?” Jimin queries.

Hoseok rolls his eyes but he responds in all seriousness “No, Ana’s and mine.”

Jimin just shrugs. “Makes more sense.”

Your eyes narrow and you scoff. “No, it doesn’t because I’m not jealous!”

Seokjin places his palm on your shoulder. “It’s okay, Y/N, I’m sure you’ll find someone someday to be grumpy with.”

You pick his hand and drop it off your shoulder. “Thanks, but I’m fine. Besides I got my novel to write, I don’t have time for a boyfriend.”

“Oh, I’d marry rich if I was expecting anything of that novel!” Hoseok comments with a laugh but everyone freezes, including you. Is that what he really thinks? That you’re not gonna make it?

All of you turn to look at him, but Hoseok remains oblivious of your stares for a few moments. But when he realizes you’re all looking at him, he looks confused.

“What?” he asks, visibly perplexed.

Jimin’s eyes widen, disbelief in his voice. “Dude!”

Hoseok shrugs though his eyes widen in almost fear. “It was a joke!” his voice is one pitch higher as slight traces of panic are evident in his words. When no one responds, he turns to you, desperation and honesty in his eyes. “Y/N, really, it was just a joke.”

You stare for a moment too long, before you nod, giving him a smile to spare him from his misery, deciding to not let such a simple comment affect you. “Yeah, yeah, I know, of course!”

“I didn’t mean any of that okay? It was a stupid joke!” Hoseok nearly screeches, regret in his words as he doesn’t seem at all convinced by your answer.

You force a laugh to calm him down.

“Hobi, I’m fine! Don’t worry too much,” you smile at him, patting him on the back and moving to put the plates Seokjin dried out to their respective cabinets.

He still doesn’t seem convinced and he’s ready to pester you some more before Seokjin intervenes, sensing you’re starting to feel uncomfortable with all the attention. “Anyways, Hoseok you said you wanted my opinion on something?”

Hoseok’s attention turns to Seokjin once he speaks up. “Ah yeah! Actually, my three-year anniversary with Ana is coming up and I’m all out of ideas,” he responds sheepishly as he rubs the base of his neck.

“Ehm, hello? I’m her best friend, why don’t you ask me?” you complain, putting your hands on your waist with one eyebrow cocked up.

“Y/N your most serious relationship lasted two months and it ended because you fought over which peanut butter spread is the best,” Hoseok raises an eyebrow at you as he and Seokjin walk over to the couch, trying to brainstorm ideas.

“I’m sorry but whoever thinks smooth is better than crunchy is simply not human,” the memory sends a shudder through you and you look at Jimin for confirmation and he’s quick to nod his head and agree.

“Oh, yeah, that relationship had no future after that,” he washes his hands at the sink as he looks over to Hoseok who simply giggles.

“Okay, yeah, I can give you that one. But you really have no idea of relationships, so I’m sorry but I’m not taking any suggestions,” he softens the blow with a flying kiss in your direction.

You scoff, indignant. “Rude. True but rude!” you admit as you finally place the last of the plates in its place. Hoseok and Seokjin are now deep in conversation, throwing one idea after the other and if he decides to go with any of these, you’re sure Ana will dump him before he gets the chance to utter “break up sex”.

Seeing as there’s nothing else left for you to do, you decide to head off to sleep, making a mental note to talk to Hoseok about his date ideas and salvage whatever you can.

“Okay, I’m going to bed, goodnight guys!” you wave them goodnight before turning to the hallway when Jimin comes towards you.

“I’ll walk with you,” he says, following you into the corridor.

You walk in silence, not that it’s weird or anything. You and Jimin have reached that point in a friendship where you don’t have to fill the silence to be comfortable around each other. You could be in the same room, doing completely different things, not talking at all, and still, you wouldn’t feel the need to fill the silence.

Once you reach both of your rooms, as they are right across from one another, you ready to say goodnight when Jimin interrupts you.

“Ah, wait…” he stops you just as you reach for your doorknob and you turn around. “What is it?”

He sighs before, “look, I know you know Hoseok didn’t mean any of that but I also know words tend to get into your head…” he begins, voice gentle and eyes cautious on you as you fidget on your spot uncomfortably.

“And I just want to say-”

“What?” you cut him off with a tired sigh, “everything will turn out okay? That suddenly I’m gonna be blessed with divine inspiration when I least expect it?” you give him a weak smile, crossing your hands on your chest.

What you don’t expect is Jimin to laugh. “No, no, all of that is just a pile of crap!” he chuckles and you can’t help but laugh along with him.

“I wanted to say that whatever goes through that little mind of yours shouldn’t keep you from writing. That’s what you do, you write! And, yeah, some of it may come out as complete bullshit, but that’s just how it has to go before you get better,” he says simply, voice filled to the brim with honesty and you rest your eyes at your feet, suddenly feeling very self-aware.

“Because I know you’re gonna get better. You just need a push,” he finally smiles softly at you, warmness spreading through your heart as if his smile is a portable heater, radiating warmth to the people closest to it.

“Thanks…” you mumble back, letting your eyes find him to truly express how thankful you are.

You aren’t good with expressing your feelings, not when it’s not on top of a piece of paper. Everyone knows this, Jimin even more so. You know you don’t have to say anything for him to understand how you truly feel.

And so he smiles back and nods as if to say “you’re welcome”.

And for a few moments, you stay like that. Both of you leaning on your doors, staring at each other as another silence fills the corridor.

But this one is different. Still comfortable but there’s something else hanging in the air. It’s the way you look at each other, basking in each other’s presence, comfortable and not ready to say goodnight yet.

It’s the way Jimin’s looking at you. Smile slightly fading as his eyes remain on your face, ever serious, ever intense as if they’re saying something his lips can’t, something you can’t quite understand, something that makes you feel-

Jimin breaks the stuffed silence with a shake of his head. “Anyways, um… goodnight, Y/N…” he says, voice thick with something and his words seem to revive you as well as he opens the door to quickly go into his room.

“Ah, yeah, goodnight, Jimin,” you reply casually before you enter your bedroom and close the door behind you.

That felt… weird.

As much as you try to put a name to what you felt out there, you can’t. The situation felt too foreign, too much for your drunk mind to comprehend.

You shake your head, passing it off to the many beers you had and without giving it much of another thought you go to sleep.

.

.

Although, three weeks pass after that talk and you still can’t get it out of your mind.

You figured you would’ve forgotten about it by now, blaming it on the amount of alcohol you had consumed that night but no. Those last few moments before you parted in the middle of your hallway still linger in the crevices of your mind, not unlike a bunch of vultures scavenging for prey.

Even now, at Seokjin’s birthday party, it’s all you can think about instead of paying attention to the birthday boy himself and the subject of your affections. If he even knew you weren’t focusing on him on his own birthday party he would flip.

Did Jimin want to say something to you? It seemed so but since then he’s made no indication as to show he wants to talk to you. It’s been three weeks and there was no other talk of that weird conversation outside your bedrooms. No sign that it ever happened. You wonder what was going through his mind at that time. You wonder what he’s thinking about it now, if he even thinks about it still like you.

“Earth to Y/N! Hello?” a floating hand breaks your inner monologue, Ana looking at you with scrunched eyebrows and a glare to match. The two of you are currently alone amidst the crowd of partygoers as Ana dragged you aside to excitedly tell you about the amazing anniversary Hoseok had planned for them, last Saturday. You guess you lost focus somewhere in the middle.

“What?” your voice gets defensive and Ana’s glare seems more intimidating as seconds pass by.

“You stopped listening!” she slaps you lightly on the arm and a yelp comes out of your lips as a form of protest.

“I didn’t!” you try to defend your guilty self as you rub the afflicted spot.

“Yeah, no, I thought so at first “Y/N would never just stop listening” so I started casually throwing Seokjin’s name into the conversation, that always worked like a charm to get you to focus, but you still didn’t listen!” she retaliates and you shrink back in shame.

“Sorry…” you mumble in all honesty, biting your lip in embarrassment. “But I heard the most important parts!” you perk up, “And the whole concert then cooking at home date idea was really insightful and cute! And full disclosure, if I hadn’t interfered and let Hoseok listen to Seokjin, you would’ve ended up at a screening of cats!” you shake your finger at her and she giggles out loud.

“Although I gotta admit, Hoseok cleaned up really well on its own…” you smile at her and she nods with a dreamy sigh before taking a sip of her drink.

“Oh, and you have to thank me for stopping Hoseok from using his “free Hoseok love” coupon as a gift.”

Ana’s eyes widen in grave seriousness. “Oh, he did use that…”

You wince at that. “Oh god, I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t fret too much about it, he also bought me that cute pair of boots I wanted!” she pats you on the back before she bites her lip as a child that’s about to get scolded, “~and… I also kind of enjoyed it…” she says with a wink and you roll your eyes at your friend.

“The leather ones that were really expensive?” she had rumbled over the course of a week about how she fell in love with those boots but their relationship would’ve never worked (in simpler words she couldn’t afford them).

She nods at you. “Marry him,” you respond with urgency and Ana laughs at you.

But as her giggles die down her face turns solemn once more.

“Are you okay though? It’s not like you to not pay attention, even more so when it’s about Seokjin…” she says with a chuckle at the end, yet her eyes remain cautious and you sigh.

“Yeah, it’s just that Jimin-”

“Y/N, wait… I’m sorry but you do realise that I was talking about Seokjin, right?” her stare is a bit weirded out, “and that we’re currently at his birthday party and you choose to hang out with me instead of talking to him?” she skillfully observes, making you feel uncomfortable at how her words trigger something you haven’t acknowledged before and you’re certainly not ready to do so now.

You shrug. “I guess I don’t know what to say…” you choose to say instead, hoping it’s enough of an excuse to get out of this conversation.

“What do you mean? You never had a problem with that before…” she counters, genuinely confused at your bizarre behaviour and you press your lips in a tight line as you shrug once more, not really knowing how to address that.

At your hesitation to breach the subject, something seems to click in Ana’s mind and she sighs in realization.

“Can I tell you what I think without you getting all grumpy and defensive?” she asks, eyes careful and hands in the air as if to pacify you. You shrug again, albeit a bit curious about what she has to say.

“I don’t think you really like Seokjin- ah, ah! Let me finish!” she shushes you when you begin protesting, “I mean not anymore, it was pretty obvious you were crazy into him when I first met you but now…” she takes a breath, eyes looking at you wearily as she prepares for the finishing blow, “now I think you cling into the idea of liking him because it’s comfortable. Because it’s easier to fall back into the safety net of liking someone and not doing anything about it than making yourself deal with the fear and uncertainty that comes with meeting someone new.”

Your cheeks flush as you stare at her, feeling vulnerable as if someone cut you open and went through your most inner thoughts, even when you feel like there’s something else that neither you nor she hasn’t been able to pinpoint.

Ana’s observation finally put what you’ve been feeling for a while into words. You haven’t realized it but the more you think about it, the more sense it makes.

And yet you still stubbornly act like it’s not the case at all.

“I… I’m not afraid to meet new people…” your protest is as weak as your voice and Ana looks at you unimpressed and thoroughly unconvinced.

“Really? Then you’ll have no problem talking to Seokjin’s friend from high school,” she points at the tall, blond hunk with the glasses and the cute dimples currently chatting with Seokjin.

“Namjoon?! Are you nuts?! He’s way out of my league!” you screech in panic. Namjoon is a sight to be held and in your opinion, people should pay to see him up close. Would that be considered a fucked up way of prostitution? You’re not sure.

Ana rolls her eyes. “First of all, “leagues” aren’t a thing and second of all, you’re totally scared boo!” she says plainly with a victorious grin and you flinch instinctively.

“I’m not! I just don’t have time for a relationship!” you say, still trying to get out of this conversation even though Ana doesn’t seem at all deterred.

“No one talked about a relationship, you baboon, it could be just sex. But, out of simple curiosity, how long has it been since you had sex? Seven, eight months?” she retaliates, in all ways but physical backing you up into a corner.

You groan, hiding your flaming face behind your hands.

“This is the perfect opportunity to hook up with someone and never having to talk to them again for the rest of your life. No strings attached, no awkward first dates, no phone calls. Just one night of drunken sex to get you to relax a bit and who knows? Maybe it’ll help you get your inspiration back,” she concludes with a tilt of her head. And the more you think about it, the more you realize she’s right about everything. About Seokjin, about using him as a distraction, about needing to relax and this being the perfect opportunity for it. It’s been a while since you’ve felt any sort of attraction for Seokjin. No excitement or accelerated heartbeat, no sweaty hands, no unbearable giddiness when he decides to throw a visit.

You guess somewhere along the way those feelings faded out, giving place to the love and comfort that comes out of a years-long friendship. You’re not attracted to him anymore.

And Ana’s suggestion does seem kind of appealing. You suppose some sex would help you get rid of all the nerves that come with writing a book.

And Namjoon is kinda hot. Okay, scratch “kinda”, “unbearably hot” is more fitting.

You just worry if he’ll able to surpass the last time you had sex. For some reason, you’re almost convinced he won’t.

“Okay, you’re right, I’ll do it,” at that Ana squeals and claps her hands happily.

“But I have to talk to Seokjin first,” you continue, resulting in a confused expression masking Ana’s face.

“What? Why?”

You shrug. “I spent those four years crushing on him, I feel like I need some kind of closure,” you chuckle and Ana stares at you dumbfounded before she shakes her head.

“Fine, do what you have to, but don’t take too long! Namjoon is like a walking modelling billboard, most of the people in this party have their eyes on him. Boy, if I wasn’t dating Hoseok would we be doing things right now…” she reveals as she stares at the man in question while biting her lip and you stare at her disapprovingly.

“What? I said if,” she says as if abdicating all blame and you shake your head at her with a laugh. Hoseok wouldn’t mind and to be honest they’d probably be talking about how to convince Namjoon for a threesome.

“Okay, I’m going, wish me luck,” you announce as you begin making your way towards Seokjin.

“What you need is alcohol, not luck,” Ana yells at you as she goes to find her boyfriend and you give her one last smile before turning your attention to the birthday boy.

Only now realizing what you’re about to do and, great, your hands are trembling. Maybe you did need some alcohol.

But it’s too late to make a run for it when Seokjin spots you and a smile graces his lips.

“Y/N! Come over here! You know Namjoon right?” he rushes to include you into the conversation, eyes wide with hidden meaning as he nudges you towards Namjoon and the man with the dimples smiles at you.

“Ah, yeah, we’ve met before. How are you?” you smile back at him and the longer he smiles, the deeper his dimples become and the more adorable he is.

“Can’t complain. How about you?” he chuckles, the sound almost illegal, as he pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Oh, right, he also has a deep and mellifluous voice. How is this man not famous for something?

“Pretty well I’d say. Um, do you mind if I steal the birthday boy for a bit? There’s something I need to talk to him about…” your hand is already dragging a confused Seokjin away, even if you’d rather be doing that to the other boy.

Namjoon blinks at you, as perplexed as Seokjin before “Ah, yeah, sure…”

“Thanks!” you yell over the music, although you’re sure the man mustn’t have heard you as you’re already making your way down the corridor towards the back of Seokjin’s apartment.

“Ugh, Y/N? What’s going on?” Seokjin’s voice is beyond weirded out as you finally reach his bedroom, that’s off-limits for the party. You push him in and close the door behind you.

“Sorry, I just needed some privacy for what I’m about to do…” you admit with shaking hands as Seokjin’s eyes widen in fear and confusion.

You take a breath before fixing your posture and stare bravely at the man in front of you. “This may come as a shock to you but I…” you take one final breath, “I used to like you-” you begin, dreading the moment Seokjin decides this is too odd for him.

“I know.”

Seokjin’s voice takes you by surprise as your mind processes the words that just left his mouth, a different kind of dread overwhelming you.

He knows?

“What? What do you mean you know?” your voice comes out offended, as Seokjin puts down his drink with a sigh and turns to look at you.

“I mean I know. You weren’t exactly subtle with the stares and all…” he comments calmly although your mouth falls open to join your feet at the ground at the absurdity of the situation.

He knows. All this time, he knew?!

“Well, why didn’t you say something?” you throw the words at him accusingly and he rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t want to embarrass you! I figured since you hadn’t said anything that you didn’t want to act on it so I never said anything either!” he defends himself, voice high-pitched in true Seokjin fashion.

“Oh my god, that’s so embarras- Wait,” you cut yourself when his words strike you as odd and another thought makes itself known in your mind. “You mean that if I had said something…?” you look at him weirdly and Seokjin sighs, eyes already confirming your suspicions.

“I might… not have said no to a date…” he admits, scratching his ears and your mouth drops open.

You could have dated the Kim Seokjin and you didn’t because you were too scared to make a move?

Wow, your past-self would be seriously pissed at you.

Seokjin rushed to explain. “But that was back then when I didn’t know you that well!”

You gasp at the offence, crossing your arms on your chest. “You mean now that you do know me, I'm not that dateable, Kim Seokjin?!”

He groans, rubbing a palm over his face. “I just meant that back then I was willing to risk our friendship because we weren’t that close in the first place! But now we’ve been friends for almost half a decade and even though you are extremely dateable” he says with a roll of his eyes but you’re still satisfied, “I just can’t see you in that way. And even if I did I wouldn’t be willing to risk our friendship over something like that,” he concludes with a sigh.

“Oh,” you reply simply, satisfied with his answer before you continue.

“Well, that’s good actually, because I just wanted to tell you that whatever those feelings were… they’re gone now. So I just… wanted to come clean I guess…” you admit softly, finally feeling like a weight has been lifted off your chest.

“So, we’re okay?” Seokjin asks with hope and you smile, lightly punching his arm. You find yourself relieved after Seokjin’s confession and you know you’ll be fine.

“We’re okay,” you nod and Seokjin smiles back.

“That punch was lame,” he retorts and you gasp. “Do you want me to punch you for real, you masochist?”

His smile widens. “No, you freak of nature, I want a hug!”

Immediately, you begin protesting. “No, no, no, no, no. No hugs, you know this!” you begin moving away from him as he comes closer with a predatory grin. You absolutely hate hugs. They’re unnecessary long and intimate, you never know where to put your hands and you always end up having someone’s hair in your mouth.

Seokjin pouts as he nearly chases you into the hallway. “Come on, I just found out I’m not your crush anymore! Do you know how much of a hit is that to my ego!?” he says, standing in front of you, effectively blocking your way to freedom.

You sigh, already regretting, the words you’re about to say but seeing no other way out.

“Fine, but you have to promise me to not tell anyone! I have a reputation to upkeep!” you yield, shaking a threatening finger at him but his grin only grows bigger.

“Deal!” he squeals, eager to grasp this rare chance of affection from you, seeing as he has tried numerous times to get a hug from you but being unsuccessful. Till now that is.

His hands wrap around you in a soul and bone-crushing hug as your arms end up being squished between your bodies. You try to control the smile on your lips as you struggle to break your arms free and wrap them around his impossibly wide shoulders. Actually, this doesn’t feel so bad. It feels like being enveloped in a giant, fuzzy blanket. If that blanket had an unquenchable thirst for strawberry shortcakes.

A few moments pass before you begin to pull back. “Okay, you giant carebear, that’s enough,” you giggle as Seokjin retracts his hands.

“Now, wasn’t that refreshing?”

“If I let you know, I’ll have to kill you,” you mumble fixing your clothes and Seokjin’s trademark laugh echoes throughout the corridor, making your smile grow.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he throws you a cheeky wink.

You shake your head at him with a laugh before another thought crosses your mind and you bite your lip. “So… about Namjoon…”

Seokjin’s mind instantly follows your train of thought but he lets out a surprising -to say the least- groan. “Seriously?”

You find his reaction a bit too odd for your liking. “Why?”

“Uhm, you dragged me away to my bedroom at my own birthday party. He probably thinks we jumping uglies right now,” he fixes you with a disappointed stare. Fuck, you didn’t think of that.

You grunt in frustration. “Great, now what?”

Seokjin’s eyes glint when he comes up with yet another brilliant idea. “If we split we’ll find him faster!” he exclaims enthusiastically and your eyes widen.

“Genius thinking!” you declare before you sprint down the hallway, the both of you looking for Namjoon.

.

.

You would think it would be easy finding Namjoon in an apartment as small as Seokjin’s. But it’s not. It’s anything but.

When you finally do find him after almost 40 minutes looking for his perfect ass, it’s with his mouth stuck against another person’s neck so any hopes for a one-night-stand are going down the drain. So instead you resort to drinking the rest of Seokjin’s sparkling rosé collection until you have to pee your weight in alcohol.

You abandon the living room where the party is still going strong, in search of the holy grail that is Seokjin’s bathroom right now, hoping you get to relieve your misery.

But as you approach the door, you fail to register the voices coming from inside. Maybe then you wouldn’t have to live through the impending embarrassment.

Instead, you bust the door open in your haste to pee, but all of that goes to shit once you see Jimin inside the bathroom. Or, more precisely, Jimin’s mouth sucking on the pulse of some blonde’s girl neck -who feels oddly familiar- like he’s a fucking vampire.

Your eyes widen, meeting with fear Jimin’s livid ones before “OhmygodImsorrypretendthisneverhappened!” you yell in one breath, anxious to get out of there as fast as possible and before Jimin gets the chance to curse at you, you close the door and disappear down the hallway.

Ugh, oh my god, why are you so awkward?

You rub your hands on your face as you walk down the corridor, wondering where you’re supposed to pee now. Couldn’t they bone at Seokjin’s room? 

Though, among your thoughts emerges one particular one that makes you stop dead in your tracks as you finally realize why that girl seemed familiar.

She wasn’t just some random girl. No, she was a very specific blonde girl, one that happens to be the pure personification of evil on the face of the earth, one that you’re sure hides horns beneath that perfect hair.

Jimin’s ex, the girl who manipulated and abused him repeatedly, the girl who broke up with him nearly a year ago to be with someone else, after he caught her cheating. The girl who broke his heart.

Dinah.

Fuck.

.

.

You remember the first time you met Dinah, although she hadn’t left any particular impression on you. She was a high school friend of Taehyung, with whom Seokjin shared some classes with and were kinda close. It was your fourth year in college when Taehyung was still hanging with you guys before he found a job opportunity overseas and left. Now he texts every now and then or visits even more rarely.

Seokjin’s birthday party is one of those rare visits, hence why Dinah was also present last night.

The first time you met her, almost two years ago, was in a scheduled study group in one of the local cafes. It was you, Seokjin, Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok and Dinah, most of the guys, studying to prepare for their last year through college and Ana couldn’t make it so honestly, you were relieved you had another girl to go through together the boys’ antics.

Although if Ana was there, she would’ve probably spent all of her time being coupley with Hoseok and that kinda defeats the purpose.

Dinah was studying for a math exam and Jimin had offered to help her since she wasn’t very good at it. You didn’t think much of it, mind already going haywire over your new novel idea so you didn’t really pay much attention to anyone.

It had been when Jimin left for the bathroom when you saw her scrolling through her phone that you decided to help her with a problem even Jimin couldn’t quite get.

Only her reaction was a tad bit different then what you’d expected. She had interrupted you even before you got to tell her you wanted to help, with a kinda sharp tone saying she didn’t need your help. You had backed off then, kinda bummed out about it but you could already tell she was into Jimin and wanted his help specifically.

But as you had turned to pay attention back to your novel, your gaze couldn’t help but fall on her open notebook. And there it was, in a hidden corner of the page in messy scribblings the solution to the problem. Her handwriting.

You didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t your cup of tea to hide your intellect to raise the ego of the boy you were into and besides feeling a bit sad for her, you didn’t do anything else. Who were you to judge?

It wasn’t until the two of them started going out that you started feeling some sort of dislike towards her. And not just you, the rest of the group as well.

It was obvious to everyone how shitty she treated Jimin. At first, of course, there were no signs as if to warn you of Dinah's manipulative nature, they were still in the lovey-dovey, honeymoon phase. But as time passed, Dinah’s facade began to crumble. Jimin’s interaction with the opposite sex were limited due to Dinah’s extreme jealousy, which meant you and Ana barely got to be around him, let alone talk to him. Her snide comments and judgey behaviour made him feel inadequate over everything. How he got her the wrong gift, how the movie he chose was stupid, how the restaurant he picked was disgusting, and the list goes on and on.

At first, Jimin tried to talk to her about those things, certain she would understand what she was doing once he’d brought it up. But when you’re in love it’s easier to ignore all the red flags. It’s easier to blame yourself for everything when you can see no fault in the person you’re in love with.

Soon the relationship turned toxic. Dinah became similar to a parasite, sucking the life and happiness out of Jimin, as he fell prey to her every whim. Making him even more insecure in himself when she knew he already had some issues he was trying to work on. But that didn’t deter her. Instead, it gave her leverage, to use all the ugly, little things Jimin thought of himself against him.

At some point, it had gotten so bad Jimin refused to eat.

It was then that all of you tried to intervene.

Unsuccessfully that is.

It had gotten pretty ugly in the span of a few minutes with how angry you and Hoseok were at Dinah and at Jimin’s unwavering loyalty to her. Soon it had become a yelling match between the three of you as Seokjin and Ana had tried to bring some sense to all of you. In retrospect, none of you handled the delicate situation well.

In the end, Jimin had stormed out of the apartment, furious at all four of you, to go to Dinah or to the only one that got him as he had put it.

Only to find her in bed with someone else.

He had come home hours later, stinking of alcohol, telling you what had happened through red eyes, tear-stained cheeks and hiccups.

You had put him to sleep and the next morning Dinah was breaking up with him over the phone.

The next few months were awful. But he survived them. He survived and realised he deserved better, not this hell Dinah made him go through. That wasn’t love.

After all of you encouraged him to talk to someone about everything, Jimin went to a therapist and he came out stronger. Sure, some of the issues were still there but so were the rest of you. He knew you’d be there for him if he ever needed you.

That’s why you’re so pissed this morning.

Ana and Hoseok look at you like you’re a ticking bomb about to explode at any minute from the other side of the kitchen island as you munch on your cereal and send death glares at Dinah, currently sitting on Jimin’s lap on the dining table.

If only “death glare” was a bit more literal.

You can’t understand Jimin. He was supposed to be over this. Doesn’t he remember what she did to him, how miserable he was?

“I haven’t seen you staring so long at something since that time you tried to microwave popcorn with your mind,” Ana’s hushed whispers reach you as not to alert the couple and Hoseok almost sputters out his milk.

“Did it work, though?” Hoseok’s eyes stare at her expectantly and you roll your eyes.

“Not gonna dignify that with a response,” is her cryptic answer.

“Seriously, am I the only one who’s pissed over this?” you say through gritted teeth, the happy couple wholly oblivious to your little conversation. Ana and Hoseok seem too calm, given you have a fucking demon at your dining table.

Ana sighs. “We are too, Y/N, but let’s face it, what can we do about it?”

You look at her in disbelief. “Talk to him?!”

“Yeah, and look at how that worked out last time…”

“They broke up.”

“After he caught her cheating…” her words are slow as if talking to a child, “and it wasn’t even him who initiated the break-up! If Jimin wants to be with her we just have to accept it and be there for him if something happens again,” she concludes, taking a sip of her coffee and you can’t believe your ears. She can’t be serious.

“Hoseok, what’s your say in this?” you ask, rather loudly might you add, so you steal a glance making sure Jimin hasn’t heard.

Hoseok shrugs in answer to your question. “We all know she was the devil incarnate. But maybe she changed. Let’s give her a chance.”

Your mouth hangs open when your last possible ally walks over to enemy territory. “Give her a chance? She’s not Andrew Garfield in the Amazing Spiderman!”

Ana’s expression gives away her utter bafflement. “I have so many questions…”

You shrug. “Everyone hates him but I think he was a great Spiderman.”

Hoseok’s incredulous stare doesn’t last for long. “Anyways, all I’m saying is Jimin went through a lot…”

“So he should know better!” you retort.

Hoseok doesn’t seem amused, “So there must be something that changed his mind! He’s a big boy, he can take care of himself. If he gave her a second chance, so should we.”

Ana nods at her boyfriend’s words and they both return their eyes on you, waiting for confirmation of your part that you’re gonna be nice.

You regard them with an ominous glare, “Traitors…” you mumble before you groan. “Fine. But I’m gonna be watching her every move. Like an owl!”

“I’m fairly positive it’s supposed to be “like a hawk”...?” a confused pout takes over Hoseok’s lips.

Ana chuckles, “It is “like a hawk”.”

Your confusion is evident. “Really? But owls are nocturnal animals, therefore have better eyesight!”

Ana rolls her eyes at you, tired of all the bird talk. “Even so! Please promise you’ll behave!”

You take a deep breath when a shrill laugh echoes throughout the apartment and you can already feel yourself fuming.

“I promise.”

.

.

After the two “lovebirds” have left your apartment for an impromptu date, which the declaration of had you nearly barfing on sight, you crawled back into your room, in search of inspiration, daring to take another shot at your mostly unfinished novel.

You gather your hair up in a messy bun, glasses on top of your nose, iced coffee next to your papers, preparations all ready to freely embark on the raging seas of creativity.

If writing a novel was that easy.

After writing another three chapters, well after the sun has settled in the horizon and your eyes are barely keeping themselves open, a knock thrums against your door. But before you get to reply, the door creaks open and Ana pops up behind it, walking in with observing eyes and a bag of cheddar-flavoured chips.

“Why do you even bother knocking?” you sigh, taking off your glasses to rub your exhausted eyes.

“The knock is a warning, not a request for entry,” she plops on your bed with a smile, crossing her legs on your duvet and pats the space next to her. 

It’s not uncommon to have Ana spending the entire day here, after all, she is one of your closest friends, an elementary part of your group and Hoseok’s girlfriend.

You get up from your desk, limbs aching for the various positions your body has been in the midst of writing, and with a tired smile you sit down next to her.

“No luck with the book still?” she asks, passing you the chips and you hum appreciatively, your tongue already tasting the divine taste of those chips.

“Well, I’ve written some stuff… just not any particularly good stuff,” you munch through the snack with a grubbled noise of satisfaction and Ana nods in understanding at your words, “and honestly that whole “Dinah” thing is infuriatingly distracting! I’m still pissed and I can’t even stop thinking about it.”

“Wait…” Ana interrupts you and if her face says anything is that she just came to a sudden realization. One she doesn’t seem to particularly enjoy.

“Are you sure this isn’t because of…?” her words hang in the air as she regards you with careful eyes, waiting for you to grasp the meaning between her words.

Though you’re none the wiser. “Because of…?” your utter obliviousness is infuriating and Ana groans, rubbing her palms on her face, pinning you with a ridiculous look.

Right then, it’s as if a moment of clarity strikes you and you finally understand what she means.

Your eyes widen in horror.

“What? Ew, no! Why would you even think that?!” you immediately protest, entirely disgusted by the mere notion of what Ana is implying.

She doesn’t seem at all bothered by your extreme reaction. “I’m just saying, it happened!”

“Yeah, eight months ago!” she can’t be serious. There’s no way she actually believes that.

She cocks an eyebrow. “It was also the last time you had sex.”

You let an exhale drop from your lips, as you take a trip down memory lane, all the way back to eight months ago.

It was April, four months or so after Dinah had broken up with Jimin, leaving him a complete wreckage in her absence. It became a group activity, trying to get Jimin back on his feet. Making sure he ate, taking him outside for some fresh air, helping him get out of his funk.

One night, you took him out for drinks in a bar close to home, to help him get over her through alcohol and hopefully some meaningless sex with a stranger. And Although both of those things happened, it wasn’t a stranger lending him a helping hand that night. Or a helping mouth if you want to be accurate.

You had woken up the next morning in his bed due to the unsettling feeling of dread curling in the pit of your stomach. What the hell were you thinking? What if this changed everything? You were best friends and roommates, what now?

But when Jimin woke up, everything seemed to be back to normal. You were relieved things didn’t become weird, his words immediately putting a rest to your worries over your possibly ruined friendship, joking lightly about the whole thing and how the others might react to the whole incident. It wasn’t a big deal because you never let it become one. It was but one night of mindless sex, one that left you both satiated and you could both agree it meant nothing. Jimin just needed some rebound sex and you… well, it had been a while. And you had needs.

Although you did get a lot of teasing from the rest of the group for the next few weeks. That wasn’t anything fond to remember, especially when you were still thinking you were into Seokjin and he had a large part in said teasing.

But that was in the past. You never felt anything for Jimin in the first place.

“It’s not that, okay? She’s just an awful person and I don’t want to even think about the consequences of her doing Jimin dirty again,” your calm voice and demeanour finally convince Ana as she lets out a relieved breath.

“Okay, good. Got scared there for a second, things could get really messy,” she admits with a small smile.

“You don’t have to worry about that. If anything that’s the least of your worries right now,” you say munching on some more chips as you eye the clock on your wall.

Ana looks at you perplexed. “What do you mean?”

You press your lips together. “Hoseok is alone in his room right?”

Ana looks even more baffled now, not sure where you’re going with this. “Yeah…?”

You press your lips in a tight line. “It’s 10 o’clock…” you relay, a sense of urgency in your voice.

Ana’s eyes widen. Hoseok’s latest obsession is watching Glee reruns on TV, which wouldn’t be that bad if he didn’t insist on singing every episode’s songs for the remainder of the week.

‘You can still stop him if you run…” you offer and Ana is immediately off your bed.

“Hoseok put down the remote!” she yells, running out of your room, down into the living room as you giggle and munch on the chips she left behind.

Your mind travels back to Ana’s worries about your feelings but you laugh them off.

You and Jimin? The entire idea is utterly ridiculous. He’s your best friend, you could never look at him that way.

Although, you too can admit he can be a sexy piece of ass when he wants to.

With a sigh, you throw the empty bag of chips on the floor and get under your covers, your mind too tired out to continue writing.

You just hope this thing with Dinah is only temporary. How long can a fling last when you already know the bad side of your lover?

.

.

When another week passes and they’re still going strong with no prospects of a breakup anywhere on the horizon, you realize it can be long.

Very long.

You wake up each day to giggles, picking thrown out clothes off the couch, listening to their yucky canoodling as they insist on making out on every surface of the apartment like a bunch of delinquents. While the rest of you are still present!

You swear if you hear another one of her obnoxious laughs you’re gonna drive a glass dildo through your ear canals to stop yourself from hearing altogether.

“I can’t take this anymooooore…” Hoseok whines quietly as you, he and Seokjin are crammed in the two-seat couch, while the lovebirds currently occupy the entirety of the big sofa.

It’s not that there’s no space for you to sit there as well. More like their insistent snogging effectively grosses the rest of you away.

“Me neither, but what can we do?” Seokjin whispers back while shuffling on the sofa, trying to find a more comfortable position and instead, managing to elbow both you and Hoseok in the process as an episode of Brooklyn 99 plays on the TV.

At the other side of the coffee table, Ana smiles triumphantly at you as she crosses her legs on top of the only armchair in the room. She was faster than the rest of you, that mean son of a bitch.

Hoseok squints at her with hatred before leaning in to whisper. “Is it wrong that I’m turned on by how mean she looks?”

Both yours and Seokjin’s protests of disgust are immediate.

“Lower the tent you perv,” Seokjin makes a face.

“Too late, this tent is the sturdiest thing ever built. I mean it’s so strong, so efficient, this stick is never gonna go down-”

“Okay, we have to do something or else I’m gonna finally kill Hoseok. After all those years of putting up with his weird sexual energy… this is gonna be the last straw,” your serious eyes turn to Seokjin to stress out the gravity of the situation.

Hoseok giggles mischievously and Seokjin sighs almost like he’s on auto-pilot. “Okay, okay, what do you propose?”

Hoseok pulls a face. “Really? That’s what convinces you? I’m hurt and as your friend of nearly four years I won’t stand for this kind of dishonour of my name!”

You both stare at Hoseok for a minute, no reaction whatsoever.

“Okay, I have a plan,” you ignore Hoseok in favour of turning to Seokjin and Hoseok groans, mumbling a grumpy “fake friends”.

“For the last time, Y/N, I refuse to be involved in your -honestly frightening- lust for murder,” Seokjin gives you the stink eye.

You gasp, offended. “I never said anything about murder!” you exclaim and Seokjin’s shoulders drop, looking somewhat remorseful.

You bite your lip though, knowing full well he’s not gonna like this suggestion either. “I just said we could sedate her and put her in Jimin's room.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes, entirely disappointed but not surprised. “No.”

“Why? It’s a win-win situation! We don’t get to hear her and the couch is free!” you protest but Seokjin’s eyebrow raises.

“How’s that a win-win situation?”

“It’s a win-win situation for us! None of the wins is for her,” you shrug before Seokjin flicks you in the forehead and you yelp in pain.

The sound somehow alerts the couple and they both stop kissing to look over to the three of you weirdly. You and the boys immediately stop talking, trying to look as inconspicuous as ever. Which only makes you look even more suspicious.

“You guys okay there?” Jimin asks, voice questioning and wary.

All three of you smile at the same time, which honestly gives you a creepy “Stepford Wives” vibe, and you speak up when an idea pops into your head.

“Yeah, it’s just that this couch is kinda um… small for the three of us. But we’re fine!” you feel Seokjin staring at you wildly and you discreetly nudge him to play along.

Jimin’s face falls. “Oh, I didn’t realize! Some of you can come sit here.”

“Oh, no!” Seokjin waves his hands dismissively, “You guys seem really cosy there, we don’t want to ruin that!” he says, finally following your line of thought and you nod quickly as if to agree with him.

“Ah…” Jimin replies, voice soft and a second passes where his face hardens. But then it’s gone and he taps his finger on his chin as he thinks it through before-, “Well, you three can sit here and we can sit on the smaller couch if you’d like.”

The three of you are already standing up, ignoring the pout and slightly sharp glare Dinah is giving you.

Suck it up, demoness.

“Well, if you’re sure-”

“We’d really appreciate it-”

“Aren’t you two the sweetest-”

Jimin smiles at you, probably already knowing what’s going on and yet he says nothing, urging Dinah to stand up and follow him on the smaller sofa.

You and the boys fall to the bigger sofa with moans of appreciation, finally free to spread out your limbs without touching each other.

“Oh, yeah… that’s the stuff…” you moan as your arms lie limblessly to your side, not touching Hoseok’s or Seokjin’s for just a few centimetres but even those little centimetres of distance come as a blessing.

Ana chuckles at your antics and Seokjin sends her a glare.

“You don’t have laughing-at-the-rest-of-us rights, anymore, Brutus!” he shakes a finger at her but Ana’s smile doesn’t deteriorate.

“I’d let that Brutus impale me with her blade anytime…” Hoseok adds unnecessarily and you groan.

Jimin takes a pause for having his soul sucked from his mouth from the dementor next to him, to look mildly curious. “How would that even work?” he asks and Dinah looks less than thrilled to not have his whole attention anymore, making you feel somewhat in the mood to gloat.

Ana rushes to explain. “Well, you see it can happen when you have purchased a specific type of-”

Seokjin immediately shuts Ana with his palm over her mouth. “Did you have to ask?!”

Jimin giggles. “I just wanted to know!”

“Yeah, and I wanted to not be traumatized by that image at 8 o’clock on a Thursday night but here we are!” Seokjin interjects and an involuntary laugh escapes your lips before Hoseok joins you.

And then Ana and Jimin do too before Seokjin relents as well at the sound of your laughter and you all end up cackling like maniacs in the middle of your living room.

Well, all except one.

Dinah sighs a little too loud when your giggles don’t seem to die down and she slowly gets off the couch. Her sullen face, an indication she visualised this whole evening to play out a little differently.

“I think I’m gonna head home…” She addresses Jimin and he stands up too.

“Oh, no, so soon?” your sarcasm can’t be helped. Hoseok elbows you in the ribs in return and you just barely conceal your groan.

“Why? Stay a little while longer…” Jimin pouts at her, that one specific pout that makes him seem like a kicked puppy, therefore makes him irresistible to refuse. You purse your lips as you guide your attention to the latest adventures of Jake Peralta but your treacherous ears can’t help but follow the rest of the conversation.

“I can’t. I have to be at the office early tomorrow…” she sounds remorseful as her hands rest on Jimin’s chest. But as said before you’re definitely not looking at them, so you can only guess.

“I’m sure those kids can wait a little- You know what, I felt bad for saying that, so forget I ever did,” Jimin says quickly as he circles his hands around her waist. Again you guess.

Ah, yeah, you forgot to mention. Dinah is a damn paediatrician. How could a person as evil as herself be something in such close proximity to children will forever escape you.

She smiles at him before- “Buut… you can come over instead if you’d like…” she says in a low voice and your eyes widen. You drag them away before Jimin’s surprised ones find you.

He can’t do that! Well, obviously, he can but Jimin wouldn’t do that to you-.

“Actually I promised Y/N we’d watch Space Jam tonight…” he tells her somewhat apologetically but still you feel relieved. Watching Space Jam is kind of a tradition between the two of you. It was a favourite movie of both, a feel-good movie if you will and long ago you’d promised each other that when things got rough for one or the other and you needed a little pick-me-up, you’d watch the movie together. You didn’t have to say anything else, just ask if the other one wanted to see the movie. And whatever the two of you had planned instead didn’t matter, you were always there when the other needed you.

You asked him this time. Your novel wasn’t going that well and some serious doubts over your writing skills had plagued your mind. You needed a getaway. And you weren’t about to let her get that away from you.

“Oh… okay…” she responds, face crestfallen and sad eyes looking at her feet and you almost scowl. She’s doing this on purpose! She knows it’s a tradition between the two of you and by acting like this she hopes Jimin will bail out on you.

Well, joke’s on her, because that won’t work on-.

“But, I’m sure Y/N won’t mind if we do that some other time!”

You freeze. Did he just-? No, Jimin wouldn’t. But the smile on his lips, so hopeful, says otherwise.

You can feel everyone staring at you, waiting for an answer. Do they seriously expect you to be fine with this?! Jimin knows how much this means to you, what it exactly means about your state of mind right now! Is he seriously about to blow you off?!

Ana is staring at you with alarm, sensing you’re about to explode, warning you against it. She knows it’ll just hurt Jimin and you know that too, but what about you?

You ignore her stare, opening your mouth to give a piece of your mind when you meet Jimin’s eyes.

There’s no sign of ulterior motives in their familiar brown, just expectation as your best friend waits for the answer. You forget what you wanted to say and you just stare back. Why is it so damn difficult to say no to him?

A few seconds pass and Jimin, having sensed your hesitation, opens his mouth with a sigh. “Nevermind, we can just-”

“It’s fine! You can go!” you exclaim surprising everyone including yourself. Jimin turns to look at you flabbergasted but you just smile at him. You don’t know what drove you to do that. You just couldn’t bear to hear the disappointment in his voice while knowing you’re the one causing it.

“Are you sure…?” his voice is cautious, not wanting to go if it means it’ll get you even a little bit uncomfortable. Sweet Jimin, always thinking about others’ feelings. You smile again to spare his feelings, disregarding completely your own.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you reply and the sweetest smile takes over his lips, making all of this seem worth it.

“Great! Thank you!” he says, rushing to press a quick kiss to your forehead, taking you by surprise before turning to Dinah, “Just lemme grab some stuff,” he disappears down the hall into his room.

He reappears a few minutes later with a small bag over his shoulders, the smile still present on his lips.

“Ready to go?” Dinah asks as Jimin gives her a peck on the cheek and nods.

“See you tomorrow, guys. Y/N, again thank you,” he waves at all of you and flashes you a smile. You smile back, waving as well as he exits the apartment first.

Dinah though stops before walking out the door and then she turns to you with a grateful smile.

“Y/N, thanks for that, I knew he wasn’t gonna come if you weren’t okay with it. And I’m sorry for stealing him away. Have a good night,” she addresses you before moving to exit the apartment.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome…” you reply and as soon as the door closes behind her you continue, “...you little bitch!” you move wildly to get out of the couch after her at that blatant display of her having Jimin wrapped around her little finger, while Hoseok and Seokjin are immediately trying to hold you back.

She did that on purpose! She knew what that movie represented, she just wanted to spite you! You don’t care how sincere she looked, she did that on purpose!

“Hey, hey, calm down, they’re gone!” Ana steps in front of you to calm you down and slowly your breaths even out. Your tired limbs fall lifelessly on the couch, not anymore resisting Hoseok’s and Seokjin’s hold.

Once you’ve calmed down, all of them stare at you cautiously. You hate that. You hate the pity in their eyes, you hate how they know exactly how much this hurts you, you hate feeling like you need their help.

You hate feeling vulnerable.

“I’m fine,” you snap, shaking their arms off, even if your own still have a slight tremble and you stand up.

They exchange stares and you press your lips together as you stare at the ceiling. Taking a deliberately slow breath to control your trembling.

“I’m going to bed,” you announce, your tone final, not waiting to hear their responses before you leave the living room for the safety of your own room.

None of them makes an attempt to follow you and you’re grateful for that at least.

You stomp into your room, closing the door loudly before grabbing your laptop and sit on your bed with a huff.

You don’t need Jimin to watch Space Jam and feel good afterwards! It’s the movie that makes you feel okay, not the person you’re watching it with. That’s what you try to convince yourself as you search for the movie on Netflix.

But as you sit there fuming through the first few minutes of the film, you can’t concentrate. You feel pushed aside as if you don’t matter, from none other than your best friend.

You press pause and with a sigh, you push the laptop aside. Tonight wasn’t supposed to go like this. You were supposed to watch your favourite movie with your best friend, to make jokes and laugh with Bugs Bunny, to feel better for once in the entirety of the last month. To feel comforted and safe in the presence of your best friend instead of moping miserably on top of your bed and feeling worse than before.

Instead, you grab your phone from your nightstand, scrolling through media in a poor attempt to distract yourself.

That’s how you spend your Thursday night and before you realize it you fall asleep with your phone still on your hands.

.

.

“Y/N. Y/N, wake up…” a soft voice brings you back from your slumber and you sleepily open your eyes to see Jimin hunched over you with a small, tender smile.

“What… What time is it?” you mumble, rubbing at your eyes and Jimin’s smile widens ever so slightly.

“It’s twelve past one. Come on get up, you’ll be dying in the morning if you sleep like this…” he responds quietly, urging you to abandon your current sleeping position for one that is more comfortable under the warmth of your covers. You’ve been curled up like a cat next to your laptop that’s still paused on Space Jam.

Jimin’s careful eyes flee to the screen, only for a second before they return to you, ever so gentle.

“Oh, okay then…” you mumble kinda dumbly in your sleep-infused haze and Jimin looks at you expectantly for a moment too long before he pushes you further across the mattress, to leave what you belatedly realize is more space for him.

“Scout over…” he whines, voice still quiet and you look at him perplexed. Why does he wanna sleep here, he has his own bed.

“Why?” you ask, purely confused and not at all hurt by the previous incident as Jimin expected but nonetheless his smile saddens before he stares shyly at your duvet.

“I was thinking, perhaps, we could still see the movie if you’re not too tired…” he mumbles, eyes wide effectively nailing the “puppy stare” he’s infamous for and naturally you find resolve crumbling. The previous anger is long gone when you stare at him so you smile back as you move aside and draw the covers for him to get under.

“Get here, you rascal,” you whisper back and his smile matches yours when he obeys and climbs in, dragging the laptop forward to restart the movie.

The both of you get comfortable against your headboard, Jimin’s arm hanging loosely around your shoulders as you watch Michael Jordan get sucked down a golf hole to the Looney Tune’s world.

The truth is you’re extremely tired and you most probably will fall asleep during the movie but you don’t mind sitting next to Jimin as the movie plays in the background and you bask in his warmth. Because at last, you feel the raging sea of your thoughts subside. Your mind is once again calm and serene, all your worries thrown aside in the favor of this one moment that makes you feel content. 

Ana’s warning faintly echoes through your head but the words are not enough to dampen your mood or make you spend a little more of your focus on them, even though Jimin’s arms feel safe. Feel like home.

A small smile stretches your lips. Even when you feel your eyes heavy with sleep, you still snuggle closer to your best friend.

.

.

{Jimin’s POV}

He’s a terrible, terrible friend.

The thought repeats inside the crevices of Jimin’s mind like mockery as he drives. His fingers tap against the leather of the steering wheel impatiently, matching his haywire of thoughts in a weird kind of fucked up way.

He shouldn’t have left. He shouldn’t have made the subtle request in the first place. He knew you needed him, how could he not? It was stupid and selfish of him to leave you behind when you needed him.

But when Dinah gave him a distraction, a way to keep himself occupied… that’s what he wanted. Right? A distraction from everything, something to keep his mind off of things, to keep him from making any mistakes.

But even as he was lying on Dinah’s couch he couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how he left you behind in a time he knew was difficult for you just so he can finally breathe freely, focus on something else other than-.

Dinah was good at that. Making him forget.

But as awful of a friend he was, he’s apparently an even worse boyfriend.

When his thoughts got too much to handle, too much for him to ignore and pretend he didn’t feel any remorse for abandoning you, he left Dinah’s with an excuse. It was a stupid one, he knew, she knew but still, she let him go. Because, as much as she made Jimin go through before, she changed. Jimin could recognize that in the way she acted, the way she talked, even the way she kissed him. That’s why he gave her a second chance in the first place.

And then he goes and probably ruins it by being the worst boyfriend. A stupid decision really.

He parks his car in front of their building and he locks with a sigh.

It’s late, too late for you to still be awake. And if you are awake at such an hour, it’ll probably be because you’re writing and you most likely won’t want to be disturbed.

But Jimin can’t help it. His guilt is killing him, eating him up from the inside so he has to at least check.

When he softly taps on your door and gets no reply, he pushes it open.

He finds you fast asleep, curled up on top of your covers, phone still on your hands and laptop still open next to your form.

He smiles softly at the image before he approaches you quietly, taking the phone from your hands to place on your nightstand before he wakes you up.

“Y/N. Y/N, wake up…” he whispers softly, unable to keep the smile away from his lips at your adorable sleeping form. Waking you up is a necessary evil; otherwise, the next morning will consist of your sore muscles and your grumpy behaviour in all its glory.

“What… What time is it?” you ask quite drowsily and Jimin is relieved to see no sign of hurt in your voice. Nothing that exposes any malice or grudge hold against him.

“It’s twelve past one. Come on, get up, you’ll be dying in the morning if you sleep like that…” Jimin pushes you softly to move under the covers when his eyes find the screen of your laptop.

Paused in the first few minutes of Space Jam.

His chest constricts uncomfortably and he moves his eyes away in shame. The pain in his chest can only feel like a blade has impaled him with all the implications of how much of an awful friend he is. God, great job, Jimin.

But as you move over your mattress and under the covers, completely serene and calm, Jimin decides to make it up to you.

Towards the end of the movie Jimin realizes you’ve fallen asleep.

You’ve been quiet for a while now but it isn’t until he turns to point something out that he realises your eyes are closed.

You’re breathing slowly, snuggled up next to him, face pressed into the pillow as your chest rises and falls ever so gently.

His lips stretch into a smile, pushing a stray hair out of your face. He picks up the duvet to properly cover you and the movement makes you shift closer to him, to press your face on his side as if searching for him even in your sleep.

His smile widens. And then it falls.

God, he wants to-.

He stops the thought before it emerges.

His movements are deliberately slow and as quiet as they can be as he gets out of bed. He closes your laptop, leaving it on top of your desk before he walks to the door.

He stops then. He turns to take one last look at you and then he leaves.

.

.

{Y/N’s POV}

Next morning you wake up feeling fully rested.

You rub the sleepiness off your eyes before sitting up, hands landing on your soft covers, toes on the cold floor and you wiggle them back to life as you stretch your back with an appreciative moan.

You check your phone for the time, shocked when you find it’s too early for anyone to be awake on a Friday morning and you contemplate diving back into the haven of your covers. But the truth is you don't feel sleepy anymore and you were never the person to loll around in bed either.

So with one last yawn, you put on your slippers and make way to your kitchen. Since you’re the first one up, you could cook breakfast for the boys, reminding them of how much of a good roommate you are and riding them with guilt about the fact both of them haven’t bought any popcorn this last week.

Oh, maybe eggs and bacon? They’d love that! And plus, the tastier the recipe, the more prominent the guilt. You’ll have popcorn to spare for the rest of the year.

But as you make the turn for the kitchen, someone else is already banging pots and whisks in their attempt to concoct a delicious breakfast.

Jimin’s humming some song, whisking some batter as a pan rests on top of the stove, eggs already crackling on top of the boiling oil and the smell fills your nostrils as you get closer. 

Dammit, no free popcorn for you. But at least you won’t have to cook.

“God, that smells amazing…” you comment as you take a seat on the kitchen island and Jimin turns around, eyes wide in reaction to the sudden noise but quickly smirks once it realizes it’s just you.

“Morning to you too,” he chuckles with a roll of his eyes as the whisk never stops moving in his hands. He quickly looks back on the stove when the crackling gets louder and he puts aside the batter with a curse to inspect the eggs.

“Want some help?” you can’t help the soft smile on your face, surprisingly ready to step up and aid his ministrations despite feeling relieved earlier of not having to cook.

He blows a stray hair out of his eyes before he relents. “Please.”

With a giggle, you abandon your spot to help the poor man as Jimin finally finds some time to drink some water. “Where do you want me, chief?” you ask with your hands on your waist.

Jimin chokes on his water, coughing uncontrollably and worry fills you as you’re quick to pat him on the back.

“Hey, easy with the water bud!” you joke and once his coughing stops he gives you a weak smile.

“Got it. Um, you could whisk the batter as I fry the bacon. It needs some more stirring…” he turns to take the done eggs out of the pan, face red from the coughing fit and you mumble a quick confirmation before taking a hold of the whisk.

The kitchen is then filled with the sounds of your whisking and the crackling of the oil in the pan, as Jimin continues humming that unfamiliar song. You gather your hair up in a ponytail to get them out of the way as you continue whisking next to Jimin. It’s been a long time since the two of you have been like this; cooking together, spending time next to one another and still feel close even when you say nothing. The comfortable silence stretches around you as sun rays lighten up the space, hitting at all the right spots to illuminate the two of you.

Your eyes move on their own accord, fleeting to Jimin’s concentrated face as he adds another bacon strip. His brown eyes are focused on the task ahead, eyebrows scrunching whenever a particularly loud crackling sound emerges and your lips move into shaping an involuntarily smile. The sun streams run through his hair, flecks of dust floating in the air around him, almost like a halo, bathing him in an almost ethereal glow. As if you’re his lover and he makes you breakfast after spending the night together, tangled between the sheets.

Your mind short-circuits and you blink when the thought catches up with your reason.

What the fuck was that?

At that moment Jimin leans almost too close to your face, as he ducks to avoid some oil spitting out of the pan.

Your eyes widen at the close proximity and you suck in a breath, realising your mistake as soon as his natural scent infiltrates your lungs.

God, he smells so good. It reminds you of the fresh scent of rain and flowers and something so obviously him.

Jimin leans away immediately and you almost lean forward.

Y/N, what the fuck?

His smile is blinding. “Sorry…” he says before taking out the bacon strips, and you shake your head to get the weird thoughts out of your mind.

“It’s fine…” you mutter, returning your eyes to the batter.

Suddenly very aware of Jimin next to you.

.

.

After you’re done with cooking and putting some aside for Hoseok when he wakes up, the two of you sit down on the kitchen island to finally eat.

“So how did you sleep, Y/N?” Jimin’s voice is coloured with a teasing timbre as he regards you with wiggling eyebrows.

You groan out loud. You remember falling asleep during the movie very clearly and he’s never gonna let you live that down. But you’ll be damned if you let yourself go down without a fight. Or at least bringing him down with you.

“It happened once! Plus I wasn’t the one ditching my best friend to go get laid!” you tease him back, although a bit of your bitterness over last night’s debacle slips through your words, the jab at him a little more serious than you intended at first.

Although your pettiness quickly ebbs away once Jimin’s smile falls and he looks at his plate with a downtrodden face. You suddenly regret saying anything, realising how much of a jerk you’ve been to bring it up when you already decided it wasn’t worth to keep a grudge over. You don’t want to be the reason he looks like this.

“I was just joking, Jimin, I’m not really mad,” you rush to comfort him, placing a tentative hand on top of his palm.

You feel at ease when you don’t feel him pull back. Though a grim sigh rolls off his lips.

“Maybe you aren’t, but that does not make the way I acted last night okay…” he admits, voice low as he rubs the base of his neck with his other hand. He bites his lip in thought and your eyes stick there for a moment before you shake your head back into reasoning.

Thankfully Jimin doesn’t seem to catch up on that. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I was a terrible friend. I knew you needed me and I decided to leave. Please forgive me?” he begs with a pleading smile and damn it, it’s difficult to refuse anything to these eyes.

You sigh dramatically, tapping a finger on your chin as you pretend to ponder on it. “Say I do forgive you. How do you plan on replenishing those hours of agony I was forced to spend due to your absence?” you say with a mock-strict voice and Jimin smiles, already knowing you forgave him.

“I’ll do anything you want. Consider me your personal Genie,” he jokes, jutting his chin out and puffing up his chest.

“Does that mean I get three wishes and a spectacular musical number?”

He’s quick to glare at you. “Let’s not stretch this too much, okay?”

You chuckle when an idea pops into your mind. Oh, he’s gonna hate this, perfect.

The smirk that graces your lips can’t mean anything good, Jimin realises with a sigh.

“How about a little competition…?”

Jimin’s eyes widen in fear. “You don’t mean-?”

“A Just Dance Competition!” you announce loudly, grin threatening to split your lips as Jimin stares at you with a fond smile.

“Oh, god, I should’ve expected that…” he chuckles, the sound resigning as he shakes his head.

In your first years of college, competing on Just Dance choreographies was almost an everyday thing. You and Jimin would give your best dancing moves and Hoseok would judge. Although after many times cheating and being overly competitive to the point of threatening the poor judge, you decided to leave the activity behind.

“Come on, just this once…” you hold up one finger and bring out your best puppy stare to sway him. Jimin just stares at you with crossed hands on his chest.

“You said anything…” your voice visibly loses its excitement as your face turns a bit crest-fallen.

He doesn’t last for long.

“Fine. We can do this, I guess…” he relents.

“Yes!” you do a little victory dance at Jimin’s answer.

“But just this once! And no one else can see but Hoseok!” he protests, shaking a finger scarily at you and you groan but agree nonetheless.

“Okay! It’ll just be the three of us. Partners in crime!” you declare, enthusiasm ruling over your body, standing proudly with your hands on your hips.

Jimin shakes his head. “Sometimes I wonder why I’m your friend…”

You stick your tongue out to him. “Because you looove me,” you sing-song, pecking him on the cheek, with a loud smack.

Jimin’s frame remains still for a moment. Staring at you as you climb out of your stool to wake up Hoseok and share the news before he reaches out.

“Wait…” his hand grasps your arm, halting your steps as you turn around to him with a questioning look.

He takes a deep breath before a smile befalls his lips. “I just… I never got to thank you.”

You stare back, confused, trying to think of what he wants to thank you for, but as time passes and you come by with nothing, you get more and more perplexed.

“About what?” you sit down again, kinda curious of what is so important to him that he wants to thank you.

His smile is grateful. “You know, for being so considerate with this whole situation. I mean, we all know Dinah… And I appreciate you being so cool about it,” he says calmly, thankfully as he takes your empty plates to put them on the sink.

His words send a fresh wave of guilt through you and you bite your lip. You need to tell him the truth.

“Actually about that…” you turn to look at him, trailing off and unsure of how to tell him you actually, kinda, sorta hate his girlfriend with a burning passion.

“Yeah?” Jimin’s unaware eyes and sweet smile meet your shameful and guilty ones. He looks so oblivious and so happy. You can see he likes her, you can see he wants to make this work and even you can admit Dinah’s behaviour has changed. Maybe this is it for them. Maybe all that shit had to happen so the second time around they’d know better of each other and themselves.

Maybe they were meant to make it work from the beginning.

A lump gets stuck in your throat.

“... Of course,” you smile through the sickening feeling in your chest, one you choose to ignore, despite its magnitude, “I’ll always be there to support you no matter what.”

Jimin’s smile turns wider, radiant and you feel like it swallows you.

Like it’s the only thing you see.

.

.

It’s the next evening that you put on your dancing gear and get ready to beat Jimin’s ass. 

Saturday is one of the few really free days you have. Jimin has no classes scheduled to teach today, Hoseok’s radio show isn’t scheduled for Saturdays and you’re just a writer with time to spare.

True to your words, you haven’t said anything to the other two friends of your group, keeping this little event strictly between the residents of this house. Although to be fair, there was another reason for the missed invite.

It’s not the first time during those two days that Ana’s words came to haunt you. To nag at your mind, making you wonder if there’s any truth to the accusations. Those accompanied with your behaviour around Jimin yesterday can only spell trouble for you and your dynamics.

No, there’s no way you feel anything else for Jimin besides cordial friendship. Ana just messed with your head, putting all those silly ideas in it to confuse you, hence why you can’t stop thinking about him naked.

Oops, did you say naked? You meant “in all those domestic scenarios where he’s your lover”.

You sigh. That doesn’t sound any better.

Okay, focus. You don’t like him. There’s no way.

Making your way into the living room, you find your roommates already in the area. Hoseok searches for Just Dance videos on youtube while Jimin stretches on the floor, leaning forward to touch his toes while granting you a perfect view of his plumpy behind.

God, what did I just say?!

You shake your head. That doesn’t count! You can still be attracted to someone and regard them only as a friend. Right?

Bottom line is you don’t like Jimin.

“Are we ready gentlemen?” you shot them a confident smile, already pumped up for this.

Jimin regards you with self-assurance colouring his features. “Ready for you to eat my dust? You bet I am,” he boasts, a sly smirk gracing his lips and you snort out loud.

“We’ll see about that…” is your collected comeback, not really worried about the outcome of this competition. You know you’re about to serve him his ass on a platter.

“Your trash talk sucks dick. Thank god I’m not the judge of that, both of you would be slammed to the ground right now…” Hoseok retorts with impassiveness as he puts a video on queue.

“You’re not here to roast us, you’re here to judge buttercup, so shut your hole and judge,” you bite back, the rush of the impending competition already getting you lightheaded, as you stare Hoseok down.

His eyebrow twitches in return. “Do you want me to change the song?” he challenges you.

At that, you and Jimin turn around immediately to see Twice’s Feel Special tutorial staring back at you from the screen and you realise that no. You don't.

“You’re fucking kidding me…” is Jimin’s less than excited response at having to dance the one song you’re a thousand times better than him.

This is gonna be a piece of cake.

.

.

“No, I’m done! You clearly cannot appreciate my natural charisma, which is simply a blasphemy! A blasphemy, I tell you! People would beg to be judged by me, you degenerates!” Hoseok bursts out of the couch, the dancing tutorial still echoing softly in the background.

“No, Hoseok, please! We promise we’ll be good!” you beg with not as much as a tiny speck of sympathy for your deteriorating dignity.

Jimin scoffs, crossing his hands on his chest. “We? I had no part in this disrespectful disruption and that should be duly noted!” he rushes to save face. Truth is you’ve gone a bit too far.

“Y/N, you threw your phone at me!” a sheepish smile takes over your lips as Hoseok’s eyes marvel at your completely nonchalant behaviour.

“I didn’t… throw my phone at you per se....” you struggle to find an excuse, “I… threw it to you!” you explain with a giggle once your words make somewhat sense.

“What?” Hoseok’s furrowed eyebrows are a clear indication he’s not buying your shit.

“I threw it to you, not at you! So you could... film us! And naturally, the competition would be fairer!” you say in explanation, making your story on the way though it seems none of your roommates believe you.

You suppose that’s fair.

“I would’ve believed you if you hadn’t screamed straight to my face, -and I quote-, “What do you know of judging you freaking cocksucker?”,” Jimin lets out a snort, one he’s quick to hide behind his lips once your ominous glare finds him.

“Well, that leaves us with no judge and we’re currently at a tie, so what will we do?”

Hoseok simply shrugs before heading off to the corridor. “Not my problem anymore, compadre!” he beams at you before disappearing into his room.

Another heavy sigh tumbles from your lips as the song in the background changes into a softer ballad and you turn around to Jimin.

“Well, I guess this was for nothing then…” you huff out but Jimin simply smiles.

“No, I don’t think so…” he responds cryptically and before you can question him about it, his hand grabs yours.

“Come on, let’s dance…” he mutters quietly as he drags you forward closer to him.

Your breath hitches as your palms rest on his chest, heart suddenly beating wildly out of rhythm. You try to chase away Ana’s suggestion, blaming these feelings only on the fact that he’s hot. That’s all. Nothing more.

“But it’s a ballad. It has no tutorial…” you sputter, panic lingering in your words in a futile attempt to get rid of that unexplainable warmth enveloping you as Jimin’s hands end up encasing you.

“So we’ll slow dance…” is his simple answer, clearly not at all as affected as you.

You don’t know why that drives something ugly through your chest.

There’s nothing else you can say to get out of this without making it weird, so you simply let him guide you.

It’s easy to fall into a routine, slowly swaying to the beat of the music as you rest your chin on Jimin’s shoulder. You let your hands find their way to Jimin’s back, sliding upwards to rest on his shoulder blades as his own spread comfortable warmth to the small of your back.

It’s easy to pretend like this. Easier to close your eyes and let the beat slowly fill your ears, as you bask in the safeness of Jimin’s embrace. Like it’s nothing but another normal Sunday night, and not a favour to you because he left you to go hang out with Dinah.

Dinah. The name brings a pang of dull ache in your sternum.

There’s a small lump in your throat that you swallow away.

You’re just worried for him.

A small voice wonders when you’ll grow tired of this.

Jimin’s audible sigh brings you back to reality. You lean back to find him staring at you. His eyes bore into yours and you can’t look away.

There’s something in them, something unreadable but it makes your cheeks scorch with the attention. Though you’re unable to avert your gaze from them. They remind you of that night, outside of your doors, when you were sure he was about to say something but ultimately choose not to.

Again, you wonder what that was. If he’s about to say it now.

But his lips remain pierced shut.

When the silence gets overwhelming you decide to break it.

You clear your throat. “So, uhm, have you done your christmas shopping yet?” you mumble, eyes zerowing on your feet that step side by side to Jimin’s.

His eyes still seek your own. “No, not yet…” he replies casually, hands soft upon your waist. “What about you?” he asks and you’re glad for the more than welcome distraction.

“Oh, yeah, I’m done with mine. Just haven’t figured what to get for Seokjin yet… You know how he gets about presents…” you mumble with a smile before you accidentally step on Jimin’s foot.

He hisses and your eyes widen as you rush to apologize.

“Shit, I’m sorry, maybe we should stop…”

Jimin shakes his head, “No, it’s fine…” he says, though his voice is a bit stiff and his eyes avert your own.

Nonetheless, he doesn’t stop dancing with you.

Again, there’s silence between you, only the sound of the song wafting through the living room. But this time it feels as if something else is floating through the air. Something tense.

You’re quick to fill the silence with a question that’s not easy to ask but it’s the only thing you can think of.

“So… you and Dinah, huh?” you just barely cover your shaky voice.

Jimin’s eyes find yours again. “Oh, uhm, yeah… I mean who would’ve thought, right?” he says with a surprised chuckle, “I mean after everything you’d think I would’ve stayed clear of her…” he says bewildered and an uneasy chuckle escapes you.

“Well, yeah, to be completely honest, we all were caught off guard…” you dare to say, remembering seeing him and Dinah in Seokjin’s bathroom that night. Only now thinking of his lips on her skin makes your stomach clench uncomfortably.

Jimin chuckles in response. “Yeah, I know. And I’m glad you are this civilized about it. I admit it wasn’t supposed to go this far, she was just there when I wasn’t okay and needed a distraction. She was familiar and comfortable. But then we ended up talking and… she’s really changed, Y/N. She kept apologizing for everything and I couldn’t help but think about how it would be if we tried again. I mean everyone deserves a second chance, right?” he concludes with such clarity and insight.

There’s a part of you that wants to say he’s stupid and naive for believing her. But the truth is he’s right. Everyone sane can see she has indeed changed and it reflects on their relationship as well. Jimin returns from their dates feeling happy and content.

You don’t know why that feels like a punch in the gut.

Your lips tug into a forced smile. “Right… wait, why weren’t you okay?” you ask, finally realizing you have no recollection of that. If he had been feeling less than okay at Seokjin's party, you can’t recall.

Jimin laughs your worries off, even though the nervousness in his features is obvious. “It was nothing. I just… saw something I shouldn’t have…” is his evasive answer. His eyes find yours again and they don’t dare to avoid you. Neither do you.

There’s something tense between you, something unspoken. You don’t think you can take any more of this without going mad.

But Jimin’s gaze doesn’t deter. It remains on you, as his hands tighten on your waist. The traitorous fluttering of your heart progresses and you mask your trembling inhale just barely. And suddenly an unexpected yearning blooms inside your lungs. One that’s swallowing you whole, threatening to take hold of your reasoning, threatening to push you forward and-.

Another Just dance tutorial comes into the screen and causes you both to jump in surprise and break apart.

Warmth spreads through your cheeks as you realize what you were about to do.

You were about to lean in.

Jimin clears his throat, eyes searching for his phone and he checks the time. “Oh, shit, I promised Dinah I’d go over there after we’re done…” he mumbles and you can’t help the slight sting that grows in your chest.

“Oh, yeah, go ahead…” you wind up saying, “I mean there’s no one to judge so technically there’s no competition anymore…” you try to get rid of the uneasiness with a chuckle.

Jimin looks at you with a carefree smile as if nothing happened. And you don’t know what hurts more, Jimin’s nonchalance about it or that nothing actually happened.

“Great, then I’m off. Bye, see you tomorrow!” he says, grabbing his phone and keys before stepping out of the apartment.

You stand there in the middle of the living room, eyes stuck on the closed front door. Knowing he went to find her and your chest constricts painfully.

You place your palm to steady your beating heart but it does not work. Not at all. Not when you keep wondering, wishing it was you in her place.

With terror, you realize you’re in deep shit.

.

.

You avoid Jimin as much as you can after that. December progresses, people flooding the streets to either buy presents, meet up with loved ones or visit the Christmas market at the centre, spreading love and warmth through an otherwise cold period.

Sadly that liberated flux of emotion cannot penetrate your tough walls of “perpetual desolation”, as you had once drunkenly described, and paired with the newly-realized feelings for Jimin, it renders you a real-life Scrooge.

That’s how Wednesday finds you with Ana and Seokjin, holed up in a cosy, little coffee house while trying to plan out this year’s New Year’s party.

It’s been a tradition of some sorts for you and your friends to host a New Year’s party at Ana’s apartment, given it’s the most spacious one, inviting all the people you know to celebrate the start of the new year in the best way possible.

You normally would be really pumped up about organizing the event, getting a small taste of the thrill the party would be weeks before. But today your mind isn’t at all able to focus on the preparations. Not that you could focus on anything else besides Jimin since Saturday.

“Okay, I’m sorry but we have to stop. Y/N clearly isn’t paying attention,” Seokjin acts out, his loud whining succeeds in startling you and you finally turn around to realize both of your friends stare suspiciously at you.

Seokjin is just confused, you can tell but Ana’s eyes tell a different story.

That night, after Jimin left for Dinah’s, you immediately called your friend, voice full to the brim with panic as you explained with a nervous stutter what happened. What you had realized and she tried to provide comfort in the best way that she could. She came over with a tub of ice cream, ready to talk it out with you and figure out what your plan was going to be. You also plead with her not to tell Hoseok, the boy couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

So you’re left sitting here, trying to plan out a party and instead wondering what your course of action should be.

And also wanting to tell Seokjin, hoping he’d have something different to say than Ana. Her suggestion was not what you wanted to hear. Not in the slightest.

“What’s going on?” the man in question asks once he deciphers the mild look of despair in your eyes, voice a tad more empathetic than before.

Your eyes find Ana’s.

She lets out a sigh, before closing her notebook. “Guess I’ll have to say it then…” she muses and a grateful smile masks over your lips. It’s still quite difficult for you to wrap your head around this sudden, inconceivable situation, let alone utter it out loud.

Seokjin’s confusion reflects in the state of his eyebrows; scrunched in, twitching upwards as his eyes zero in on Ana.

Ana rolls her eyes, takes a breath and then-.

“Y/N realized she’s in love with Jimin.”

“Ana!” you protest with wide eyes at her choice of words, feeling your cheeks redden as Seokjin gasps in astonishment.

“Okay, okay, “likes” Jimin,” she reformulates although she doesn’t have you convinced she believes this.

“Jimin?!” the man’s wide eyes are filled with disbelief, mirroring your own sentiments about the current turn of events.

You nod quickly yet somehow bashfully as another gasp falls from Seokjin’s lips and Ana mumbles a quiet “I know”.

“What? How? Who? No, wait, we know who,” he cuts off himself but not for long, “When? When did your feelings change? Was it after your one-night special of passionate love-making? God I have so many questions!” his whole form is trembling with excitement, giddiness over the newly discovered news that leaves you sort of confused.

“I don’t know actually…” you mumble, overly self-conscious and yet you push yourself to continue, to pour out everything that came rushing over you in the last couple of days. Maybe it’ll help. “It feels more as if… as if those feelings were always there? Only I hadn't realised them until recently…” you mutter, eyes on your cup as you stir the now-cold americano.

It still amazes you how much of those words are real. You like your best friend and in some way, you think you always did. Though you guess you were too dense to ever really pay attention to that bubbling feeling in your chest every time he was near.

Not until Ana pointed it out.

“How did you realize it then?” Seokjin’s query is deceptively calm and you figure from the insistent nail-biting, he’s holding back to not scare you off. An act you greatly appreciate.

“Well, Ana and I had a talk the other day which gave me a lot to think about… And after spending some time with Jimin alone and I started to observe myself and my behaviour around him… how he made me feel… I realized it for what it was. For what it is…” you stare at your cup while stealing careful glances at Seokjin, who looks ready to burst with whatever he wants to say but refrains from doing so.

You roll your eyes with a chuckle. “You can talk now.”

A loud gasp tears through his mouth before, “Oh my god, this is so exciting! I already ship it, you’re perfect for each other! If I’m being honest here I never made a move on you cause I also thought you had something going on with Jimin, oh sweet baby Jesus this ship is sailing itself. It’s canon! I-”

“Wait, Seokjin, I think you forget a very important detail,” Ana interrupts him, gaze stern as ever and Seokjin visibly hesitates.

“What?”

“Dinah,” Ana answers and Seokjin’s eyes glaze over with recognition before his shoulders drop.

“Oh, right…” he remembers solemnly and steals a glance at you full with guilt.

You smile although a bit saddened. “It’s okay…”

“But, Y/N… Are you actually in love with him? Or was this just something Ana said to tease you?” he regards you with wary eyes.

You rush to answer the question, minutes before so certain of your answer, only for your lips to remain shut with uncertainty. “I… I don’t know. I mean I thought it was just a crush but I’m not so sure anymore. He’s all I can think about, all I could think about even when I didn't know I liked him, something he said, or the way his voice changed, wondering what the cause of it was. I catch myself actively wishing to be in Dinah’s place, to be the one Jimin goes home to at the end of the day, the one to get to call him hers…” your feelings catch up with you and you find yourself needing a moment to breathe. A moment when you realize it’s not just some stupid crush.

You take a shaky breath. “Fuck, I’m screwed…” you say, the consequences of your breakthrough taking over you like a tidal wave, as you come to a startling conclusion. “I need to tell Jimin.”

Ana takes a tense breath. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

But you don’t listen, just like you didn’t after your talk. “I’m not expecting anything out of it so it’d be okay either way, then I can move on at last.”

She shakes her head disapprovingly. “Y/N, no, you don’t know how he’s gonna react! He’s not some rando you happen to stumble upon the same bar four nights a week. He’s your best friend with whom you live together. If things head south, it wouldn’t be as simple as just changing your hangout spot to avoid him! He’s always gonna be there.”

Her words sound ominous and, more frighteningly, reasonable, slightly wavering your resolve but you don’t back down just yet, turning a blind eye to the worst possible outcome even if the chances of that happening are so much more than the opposite. “It’s Jimin, no matter what happens between us, we always have managed to work through it.”

Ana sighs, eyes sad as she stares at you, once again having to fight her way through to make you see reason. “Honey, this is not as simple as him stealing your cereal…”

You swallow the lump in your throat, stubbornly refusing to let it go. “Yeah, but what if-”

“There’s no “what if” Y/N!” Ana lashes out, eyes wide half with irritation half with concern as both you and Seokjin are left to simply stare at her. “There’s no way to tell if he’s feeling the same and he’s currently dating Dinah, who he’s happy with! All you’re gonna achieve now is getting him all confused and uncertain. Do you realize how that may affect your friendship afterwards? Do you really wanna jeopardize what you have over a “what if”?” Ana’s rant is over and finally, you can’t hide behind your finger anymore as her words echo in your mind. Although there’s a large part of you that wishes to deny it, you admit with a heavy heart she is right.

You can’t tell Jimin. Not right now.

You bite your lip as you avert your eyes, trying to suppress your tears as you shake your head, to show you finally see reason. Even if it hurts like hell.

Ana sighs, regret filling her otherwise soft voice. “I’m sorry for being so blunt, if the situation was any different I would be right there with you, being the first to support you in your decision to tell him. But it’s not. And I just don’t want to see either of you getting hurt…” she confesses, as she reaches her hand out to tentatively cover your own.

You let her as you swallow the lump in your throat. The one that makes you feel like you’re drowning.

“I have to agree with Ana on this… I think it will be for the best if you didn’t tell him for now. But whatever you decide to do…. We’ll support you…” Seokjin adds with tender words, that Ana nods furiously to agree with, as he squeezes gently your other hand.

A sad smile manages to find its way onto your lips as you give them both a gentle and thankful glance.

“Thank you, guys…” your voice is barely audible. Then you shake your head, blinking the tears away and slap your cheeks to get rid of the choking in your throat.

“Okay, enough of this. Let’s go back to what we actually came here to do!” you exclaim with a smile and Ana and Seokjin smile back as they open their notebooks once more.

You might be going through a heartbreak but at least for now, you’ll be fine.

.

.

After that conversation, Ana and Seokjin took it upon themselves to help you find someone else, even if you told them a thousand times you weren’t interested.

Ana proposed Seokjin could give Namjoon your number but Seokjin was quick to inform you he was currently seeing someone. Ana tried to hook you up with a work friend but to be honest, there really was no spark with Youngjae so you gave up on that fairly easily. But there’s this guy you see a few times a week at your favourite coffee shop and just a few days ago he approached you asking for your number. At first, you were hesitant to give it but you knew Ana and Seokjin were right on the whole dating thing. If you want to get over Jimin, you need to give another person a chance. So you gave your number to Jaehyun and now, a week later after your talk with Ana and Seokjin, just two days before Christmas, you’re getting ready for your date. Seokjin had suggested you had the date at his restaurant and the probability of being somewhere familiar, somewhere comfortable was like music to your ears.

In the meantime, your avoidance of Jimin hasn’t subsided. There are moments when you think he’s on to you, or that he thinks something’s weird but whenever he tries to bring it up, Seokjin or Ana or your disappearance halt him.

The truth is you hate it. It feels awful to avoid your best friend, it’s horrible pretending as if you don’t see the hurt in his eyes when you dismiss him. But you don’t trust yourself enough to not spill anything to him yet. And Ana was right, you can’t afford to risk it.

So that’s your plan for as long as needed. Avoid, avoid, avoid.

Although when the front door closes with a loud bang, you have a feeling it’s not gonna be that easy today. Hoseok’s over at Ana’s as she promised to keep him there to give you and Jaehyun some privacy. So the only other possible explanation is Jimin returning earlier from his date.

You peak out of your bedroom to see him marching down the hall. His eyes stare stubbornly, intensely at the floor as if they try to burn holes through the carpet as his heavy steps boom through the apartment. That vein in his forehead is pulsing, threatening to burst at any moment, his lips pulled into an angry frown as he takes off his jacket. He tries to rip it off with hasty movements as if it’s something tangled to him, choking him.

“Jimin, is everything okay…?” you ask cautiously as he still struggles with his jacket in front of his bedroom.

He curses through clenched teeth, ripping the jacket off his hand with one sharp movement. “Yeap. Everything’s okay. More than okay! Perfect! Everything’s perfect!” he exclaims, even though the irony in his voice doesn’t do much to convince you.

“...Do… you wanna talk about it?” your voice is careful, wishing quite selfishly and guiltily he doesn’t, because you know if he does want, there’s no chance you’ll be able to deny him, date or no date. 

He huffs before searching for his phone. “What’s there to talk about? That my girlfriend is a successful doctor that apparently gets paged in the middle of our date? That children need her and I can't complain? That I’m searching for my phone and I can’t fucking find it?!” he bursts before taking a deep breath to calm himself.

Your stomach flips uncomfortably in response to the hurt hiding in Jimin's eyes. His face is filled with worries, marking the space between his eyebrows and you want to smooth your thumb over the lines. Your chest constricts in a bothersome matter when you spot his glassy eyes. It’s not an image you like to see on him.

So, against your better judgement, you do what you’ve tried so long not to.

You talk to him.

“You’re not a bad person for feeling angry. As long as you don’t put the blame on her you’re okay. It’s normal. You just want to spend some time with your girlfriend…” you respond, trying to hide the sadness colouring your voice at the word “girlfriend”, as you walk out of your room into the hallway to talk properly to your friend.

His eyes, filled with something akin to shame, find yours and you wanna wipe that frown from his lips with yours.

But you control yourself. You’re not an animal.

“Also, check your jacket…” you point at the article of clothing with a soft smile, and as he follows your advice, he gives you a small, closed-lip smile. But it’s still a smile.

With a tired chuckle, he finds his phone in one of the pockets and shakes his head before his eyes find yours. Although as they land on your form, the chuckle fades out, confusion written on his skin.

“Are you going somewhere?” he asks, pointing to the mini black dress you’re wearing and sudden heat scorches through your cheeks.

“I, uhm… Yeah, on a date…” you chuckle nervously, rubbing your arm, eyes on your feet. “Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m going, the guy’s too hot for me…” you try to joke but Jimin has none of it.

“Bullshit, you’re too hot for him! You always do that, you put yourself down, thinking you’re not good enough, but Y/N, they’re not good enough for you! You’re amazing, funny, smart, kind and, yeah, sometimes grumpy as hell, but you deserve more than feeling like one of someone’s many choices. You’re the only one. So treat yourself like one as well.” Jimin interjects, voice serious and kinda fed up but his last words soften. He looks at you with such tenderness you can almost pretend he feels the same. You can almost pretend he wants you too.

Almost.

You clear your throat. “Thanks, sport…” you respond with a chuckle, trying to chase the tension away, but Jimin’s eyes won’t budge. They seem uncertain as if he’s trying to figure out something, but their intensity only tortures you more and you have to say something to break free from them.

“Uhm, yeah so I have to go now…” you move back to your room to get your purse and coat and Jimin’s eyes finally move away from you with a cough.

“Yeah, uhm… Yeah, of course…” he rushes to say, eyes fidgeting anywhere but close to you as he struggles to open his door.

“...Unless you want me to cancel?” you propose, knowing full well if he says yes, there’s no way you can say no to him. And that Ana is probably gonna beat your ass.

Jimin almost chokes at that, face flushing, turning his body towards you yet his eyes look at the floor. “What? Why? Why would I want you to cancel?” he stutters, eyes fidgeting between you and his door.

“Well, I figured you’d want to talk some more about Dinah…” you say softly, thinking you must have hit a nerve on his pride but he visibly relaxes at your words.

“Oh, uhm, no, don't worry about it, I’ll be fine. Go enjoy your date, and say hi to Seokjin from me,” he responds with a smile, although it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

But before you get to ask him if he’s sure, or how he knows the date is at Seokjin’s restaurant, he’s already hiding in his room, behind his closed door.

You sigh. Maybe he wants to be alone. To be alone and think it over by himself. Yeah, he’ll be okay.

You don’t do a good job of convincing yourself as you put on your coat and walk to the front door.

He’ll be fine.

.

.

20 minutes later, you find your way back into the apartment, throwing your keys on the glass bowl next to the door, taking your shoes off in front of a very confused and suspicious Jimin who watches a movie on the couch.

You take off your coat and plop yourself down next to him, as he keeps on watching you weirdly.

You pick up some of his popcorn, before. “What are we watching?”

Jimin presses his lips together in a poor attempt to conceal the grin threatening to spill all over his lips before he schools his face into a strict expression. “I told you I’d be okay…”

Your eyes are glued to the TV as you feign ignorance. “I know. And I didn’t bail out on him. He did,” you said, sudden interest in the movie piqued.

Jimin’s eyes widen, shuffling on his spot with newly found vigour. “What? You want me to talk to him for you?”

That takes you by surprise. You turn to look at him only to see his eyes stuck to you, as serious as ever. Does he even know Jaehyun?

Oh god, he shouldn’t talk to him.

“Ah, no, no, he didn’t do it on purpose! He just… had somewhere to go. We’ll just reschedule,” you reply knowing full well you’re not gonna do that.

Even if Jaehyun was entirely too eager to do that when you told him you had a family emergency.

Truth is you didn’t drive too far before you yielded and texted Jaehyun to cancel. Thinking Jimin would’ve been stuck at home alone and sulking didn’t sit well with you.

Jimin’s suspiciousness doesn’t leave his eyes but he visibly relaxes. “Oh, if you’re okay then…” he simply says before his smile reappears. Then he goes on to answer your previous question, informing you about the movie playing in the background.

You rest your chin on your palm as you listen to him intently. Absorbed by the excitement in his voice, the glint in his eyes as he explains the plot to a movie he clearly enjoys. His cheeks are flushed, heated up by how quickly he’s talking, voice melodic and excited. His hair falls on top of his forehead, messy and shiny, moving slightly with every tilt of his head when he’s thinking over something. His lips form a pout when he’s uncertain over a specific detail but the truth is you don’t care.

Not about the movie.

.

.

It’s towards the end of the movie when you feel Jimin turning towards you.

You copy his actions, turning to face your best friend with a questioning glint in your eyes. “Spill it out, champ.”

Jimin smiles at your words, resting one arm at the back of the couch, behind you. “I just wanted to thank you for staying-”

You gasp, once again pretending you don’t know what he’s talking about. “I told you the date got cancelled, I had to come back! Didn’t you listen, you dingus?”

Jimin’s smile widens, looking away with a low chuckle. “Right…” he says, though not looking very much convinced. “Even so… you being here means a lot, so thank you…” he concludes with soft eyes, a kind of tenderness you’re not used to seeing reflecting in his gaze, at least not directed towards you. But it’s not foreign, not even one bit.

A gentle smile graces your lips as you answer. “Of course. You’re my best friend,” you respond in an as-a-matter-of-fact way while you give him a playful nudge on the ribs.

He chuckles, eyes falling to his lap. “You know, I might be joking about regretting being your friend when you annoy the shit out of me…” you both laugh at that, as you shuffle in your spot, “but if I’m grateful for anything in my life is the years you’ve been a part of it. I wouldn’t risk our friendship for anything. You’re the best friend I could ever have and I hope I’m at least half as good a friend to you,” he concludes, words filled with emotion, even though his voice is serene and soothing.

The display of emotion tugs at your heartstrings but when it’s your turn to return them words fail you. You can’t even begin to put what Jimin means to you into words, newly-discovered feelings put aside. What his friendship means to you, what those years spent together made you cope through and how they changed you, those things are bigger than the strict barrier of words.

So, you do what every self-respected awkward human being would do.

You joke about it.

“Did you swallow a Barbie DVD or something? Where did that come from?” you chuckle in borderline embarrassment, as you try to get off the couch.

“No, Y/N, I’m serious,” he reacts, voice stern as he rests his palm on your leg to stop you from leaving. 

Though both pairs of eyes widen at that.

Because you never changed out from the mini black dress and when you moved earlier the fabric had ridden up your thighs.

So now Jimin’s palm lays on the top part of your smooth, bare thigh.

Instant heat washes over you, as you barely manage to mask the gasp bubbling up in your throat. Your eyes fall to his fingers, not daring to meet his gaze as you feel the warmth of his skin spreading through to yours.

Your heart beats wildly inside your chest and there’s a certain, familiar discomfort in the pit of your stomach.

He doesn’t move his hand. You can feel his eyes on you and there are goosebumps where his gaze trails on your skin.

You let your eyes find his own.

You’re not at all ready.

Not for the darkness in them, not for the haziness and tension, certainly not for the dark part in you that tells you there’s more to them than those things. No, not for the intensity and lust hidden in their dark depths.

No, you’re not ready.

But their existence is as tangible as it could ever be.

You can’t move, not an inch and even if you could, you wouldn’t. You’d choose not to. The heat in his stare sends chills down your arms, your cheeks scorching and your gaze falls to his plump lips, a sharp yet quiet inhale escaping you at just a small peek of his tongue.

And then you swear you feel-.

“Sup, guys? How have you been?” Hoseok’s voice fills the apartment as he steps inside from the front door. The sound of his cheerful entrance has you both instantly jumping away from each other in panic.

“Uhm, fine, we’ve been fine!” you struggle to reply, voice an octave higher as Jimin looks away and nods with you.

Hoseok takes off his shoes nonchalantly, not having a single clue about the thick tension in the air when he notices your outfit. He scrunches his eyebrows in confusion. “Did you go somewhere?”

You swallow nervously, foot tapping the floor. “Ah, yeah, I had a date…”

Hoseok looks ever more confused now for some unknown reason. “You did?” he asks, eyes moving to Jimin.

Jimin rushes to explain. “It got cancelled.”

“Ah… I see,” Hoseok replies as if somehow this makes more sense.

But you’re too preoccupied with Jimin’s proximity to question Hoseok’s reaction, instead focusing on trying to appear calm and not at all flustered and worked up as you are. You stand up from the couch as calmly as you can. Though you admit it’s not very much calmly. “Uh, yeah, so anyways I should go change. Goodnight guys!” you mumble quickly, eager to escape and you run off to your room.

Hoseok’s confusion is back when you disappear into your room and he turns to Jimin who also gets up and discreetly readjusts his pants. “What’s up with her?”

“Wouldn’t know. Actually, I’m quite sleepy too, so goodnight!” Jimin rushes to exclaim and then he’s off, walking rushedly towards his room.

Leaving Hoseok alone in the living room and baffled as hell.

.

.

Your legs can’t take you into your bedroom any faster and you rush to close the door with a slight lightness of breath.

Oh, god.

What just happened?

Your knees still feel weak, legs trembling and you immediately sit on the floor. Not trusting your limbs to carry you as far as your bed is, eyes and mouth wide in shock as you bring your hands to cool your heated cheeks.

You’re not crazy, you couldn’t have imagined this. You swear it wasn’t just your wishful thinking. No matter how much you want this, there’s no way your mind could have imagined such an intense way of staring. His eyes seemed like black holes, swallowing you whole and you would’ve gladly let him if Hoseok hadn’t interrupted.

Which reminds you. Right before Hoseok walked in you’re certain you felt the edges of his fingertips moving. And not away, as if belatedly realizing of his slip up.

Moving upwards.

“Fuck…” is your breathless realization, biting your lip as heat pools between your thighs. Making you reminisce of your little rendez-vous eight months ago and all the ways he made you feel, of how he felt pressed against you, inside you, drawing moans out of your lips as if it was the last thing he’d ever do.

How his mouth felt against your skin.

You slap some sense into yourself.

No! What were you thinking?! What was he thinking?! He has a girlfriend! A girlfriend whose sudden departure had him feeling upset merely hours ago. Maybe this behaviour was just a cry for attention caused by this event and you shouldn’t encourage it.

There was attraction, that is true. If there wasn’t any attraction between the two of you, you wouldn’t have slept together all those months ago in the first place. But this is not the time, nor the place. Not when he has a girlfriend and not when your feelings are so much more than just that.

It’s bad news and you gotta do your best to nip it in the bud. Crush it before the frustration gets any stronger and threatens to take hold of your sanity.

You let a deep breath infiltrate your lungs. As if the fresh air could bring a new sense of logic, resolve and determination to help you get through this unscathed.

You get up off the floor to get ready for sleep.

.

.

Only, it’s close to 4 am and you still can’t sleep.

You fuss around in your bed, the rustling of the sheets the only sound breaking the otherwise calm serenity of your dark bedroom.

You huff in annoyance, throwing the covers off of you, suddenly too warm for your liking. You’ve been trying to sleep for three hours now, but instead of blissful numbness, when your eyes close your mind is filled with the look in Jimin’s eyes from this afternoon. Turning you on despite your best efforts.

You sit up, back on your headboard, hands crossing over your chest as you tap your fingers on your arm. The shorts you wear to sleep feel uncomfortably stifling with sweat and you shuffle quickly out of them.

Only a particular movement has you clenching your thighs from the pleasurable friction on your clit and you bite your lip to keep the moan from spilling out.

Jimin’s dark eyes come to mind once more.

You inhale deeply, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, now dressed in only that and your panties. You bite your lip once more in thought and concealed shame.

You shouldn’t.

But your inhibitions don’t stop you from recalling that night.

{{You throw another shot down with a blissful smile as you watch Jimin do the same, only with significantly less enthusiasm than you. It’s already been one hour since you’ve been here, drinking your guts to help him move on, and already two girls walked away from him. It might be the way he slouches on the bar, droopy face that screams “recently dumped and still in love” but you refuse to leave here tonight without Jimin getting laid. Or at least having some fun.

“Come on, I’m sure someone else will approach you!” you nudge him playfully and Jimin scoffs as he proceeds to order another drink.

“Yeah, right. If anything I’ll just make a fool of myself again…” he grumbles, eyes focused on the empty shot glasses on the bar.

You throw an arm around his shoulders, determined to cheer him up. “Well, it’s because you’ve gotten rusty, bud! Give it some time, you’ll get better!” you observe vigorously, poking his cheek but the gloom expression doesn’t abandon him.

“I don’t think I will…” he mutters, almost too quiet for you to hear, but you do.

“What? Why?” your perplexion is audible in your words and Jimin lets out a breath.

“I just… I don’t get why would anyone bother to approach me. What’s there to like anyway…?” he admits quietly. His eyes avoid yours but you can see the sorrow, the defeat lacing their edges. The response fills you with unbridled rage over how her insistent verbal abuse has seeped into his mind and made him question himself and his worth like this.}}

Even now, that rage hasn’t subsided completely, finding yourself getting pissed at how much his previous relationship with Dinah had ruined him.

{{“Follow me for a second,” you say through gritted teeth as you drag him out of his stool to a more quiet place of the bar.

You step into the hallway that leads to the rooftop with a pretty begrudging Jimin trailing after you. The corridor is currently devoid of people, hence rendering it the perfect spot for what you're about to say.

“Why are we here?” Jimin asks like a weary teenager, crossing his arms on his chest as he rests his body on the wall.

“We’re here because you’re a freaking idiot and people would’ve probably stared if I laid it on you back there! You seriously cannot believe there’s nothing likeable about you!” you scold him with your hands on your waist.

Jimin’s eyes fall to his shoes, a pout forming on his lips.

“Well, there isn’t…” he responds genuinely and you swear you’re gonna swat him with a broom.

“Well, better buckle up soldier ‘cause I’m about to send your princely ass to confidence town,” you declare with ferocity and Jimin regards you with a confused but amused smile.

“So am I a soldier or a prince, I’m confused.”

“You’re both, you’re a prince who served on the front line in the dragon war,” you respond, deciding to humour him, seeing at least that brings a smile back on his lips.

“Is that from your book?” he asks back, a very carefully-hidden smirk gracing his face.

“No, it’s not, I- Hey!” you stop once you realize what he’s been doing, “Stop distracting me! Now stop and listen to me you bastard!” you point your finger at him and his smile shows he’s not in the least sorry.

“People go crazy about you everywhere you go! Seriously you’re the most likeable person I know, I could see that even back in high school when we didn’t hang out as much! You’re just… You’re the most perfect human being ever!” you exclaim with zeal, desperate to make your best friend see himself as you do.

Jimin shakes his head even if a small blush starts to bloom on his cheeks. “Now you’re just messing with me…”

“No I’m not!” you interject, taking a step closer until you’re standing right in front of him. “You’re the kindest and smartest, I mean you passed your college exams with flying colours!” a shy smile graces his lips at that, “And on top of that, you’re so handsome! I mean look at your lips dude! People literally pay to get their lips like this!” an impromptu laugh escapes him and resonates in the empty hall, “And the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh is just plain adorable, but on the other hand girls - and guys - would kill to lick those abs, or have a grasp at your pecs,” you cite all of Jimin’s great characteristics, but in your desire to show him how perfect he is, a slight slip of the tongue happens.

“And your thighs-” you begin but instantly stop, regret filling your mind as soon as you realise what you were about to say.

Truth is you always had a weakness for his thighs. You admit, his body is pretty phenomenal as a whole but his thighs, in particular, are a certain weak spot for you. In shame, you admit you fantasized about them trapping you between them more than once.

But, alas, Jimin catches on that and he stands up straight, a questioning look in his eyes.

“What about my thighs…?” he asks curiously, eyes regarding you with interest as they dare you to continue. You swallow nervously and the movement has Jimin’s eyes glint with sudden realization. 

“Um, they… um,” you lose your train of thought as the look in his eyes changes to something darker and he takes a step closer.

“They are...um, toned!...” you say in relief at finding a pretty innocent word but Jimin doesn’t slow down. You take a step back.

“And…?” he demands, not at all satisfied by your explanation, unrelenting and asking for more. He takes another step forward to cover your own, diminishing the distance between you.

“And firm and… sturdy…” you mumble as if in a daze as the predatory glint in his eyes only grows.}}

In real-time, the look in Jimin’s eyes matches the one from earlier tonight and you rub your thighs together for some needed relief.

{{“And…?” he asks, voice low and commanding as he effectively traps you against the wall, palms resting on each side of your face, dark eyes pinning you in place.

You swallow the lump in your throat, feeling a sudden emptiness between your legs as your eyes fall to his plump lips.

“And... thick…” you finish softly, breathlessly as your chest moves quickly with each intake of breath, struggling to keep your head straight.}}

Your hands find their way down your body as if they have a mind of their own.

{{“So you like my thighs then…” he whispers, his breath fanning over your lips, a soft gasp rolling off your tongue.

“I- I don’t…” you don’t even manage to convince yourself and the predatory smile returns on his lips.}}

Your hand rests on the hem of your underwear.

{{“Really?... So…” he trails off, smirk ever-present as he slowly moves his right leg. “... it wouldn’t matter if I did this?....” he teases and presses his thigh against your clothed centre.}}

They move the article of clothing aside to press at your aching clit.

{{You don’t manage to conceal the gasp that trudges over to a moan, as his toned muscle presses against your panty-clad clit underneath your skirt. Your hands fly to grab at his biceps and a low chuckle falls from his lips as his face lowers towards your neck.

Your cunt clenches over nothing and your hips buck into his thigh desperately.

“Do you want more…?” he whispers with a tantalizing hum, intimately beneath your ear and a shiver runs down your spine.

You feel his thigh flexing against you as if teasing you about what’s to come if you say yes.

In your drunken and lust infused mind you can’t find a single reason to say no.}}

Your fingers move slowly, rolling the swollen nub between them as a quiet sigh breaks free from your lips, remembering the way his thigh felt against you. Your movements are soft, careful, not wanting to rush it as even more memories flood your mind.

{{It doesn’t take long for Jimin to take you home after you say yes. You drive back in his car, barely keeping your hands to yourself as he drives. It takes all your willpower not to make him stop the car and ride him in the middle of the street. Instead, you only let one hand palm him through his jeans and the other dive beneath your skirt to toy with your folds. Pleasuring both of you at the same time and having Jimin going completely mad with want, a promise hiding in his eyes as he drives.

Once you reach your building, you’re immediately on each other, not caring who might see. You climb up the old stairs in a haze, hands exploring each other’s bodies, grabbing at the tender part, lips tracing the exposed skin until you reach your apartment. Your back hits the front door, a moan rolling off your tongue and Jimin swallows it eagerly as his lips devour yours.

His hands are rough at your hips, grinding his crotch against you, your bare thighs rubbing against the roughness of his jeans as you blindly search for your keys.

“Could you- could you stop for a second and help me get the door…” you mumble against his mouth when your fingers finally grasp at the metallic key in your pocket.

Jimin doesn’t stop kissing you though. “Honestly, I don’t mind fucking you senseless against it,” he growls at you, biting your bottom lip as his fingers dig into your hips.

“Fuck…” the image his words paint arouse you a great deal more than what you’d like to admit. Your head hits the door as the image floods your mind.

“No, we can’t…” you say, still somehow self-conscious, “People might see…” you mumble with closed eyes as Jimin leaves open-mouthed kisses on your collar bones.

“Let them see then…” he responds with confidence as he grips at your chin and forces you to look at him.

His eyes are hooded, completely dark under his heavy gaze on you. He licks his lips as he stares at you like he wants to ravish you and you lean your head down to capture his thumb between your lips.

You stare at him innocently through your eyelashes, sucking the digit into your mouth. Jimin’s eyes widen even more. You roll your tongue teasingly around him, making sure your eyes remain on him, as he breathes heavily and then you let it go with a loud “pop”.

Jimin stares back at you. Tongue running across his bottom lip before-.

“Fuck, okay, okay. I changed my mind. I don’t want anyone seeing you like this but me.” he curses softly, before taking the keys from your hands to open the door.}}

Your fingers are faster now, soft whimpers falling from your lips. Too quiet for anyone to hear as your other hand travels beneath your T-shirt to grasp at your breast.

{{You’re a mess of limbs and kisses as you stumble towards Jimin’s room. Jackets have been discarded somewhere in the living room and you don’t even bother on closing the door. Hoseok’s is bound to spend the evening at Ana’s, so you don’t have to worry about being quiet either. You have the place to yourselves.

“I want to suck you off, can I suck you off?” you mumble between kisses, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. You can’t wait to feel the weight of his length on your tongue and judging by how he’s straining against his jeans you’d say he can’t wait either.

Another curse rolls from his tongue as he rushes to help you undo the last few buttons. “Yes. Fuck yes,” he grunts in anticipation once his shirt is off.

You push him to sit at the edge of his bed, too impatiently. You kneel between his legs, hands running up and down his thighs as he leans back, palms supporting his weight against the mattress as he stares at you lazily, biting his lip.

You let your eyes wander over the expanse of his smooth chest, taking in the sight of his sturdy muscles, his perked up nipples and his sculpted abs. A high pitched whine escapes you at how absolutely perfect he is. You want to ruin him.

Jimin smirks lazily at you. “Like what you see?”

You only nod, licking your lips and indulging yourself.

You move upwards carefully, placing a few butterfly kisses against his chest, letting your tongue roll over his nipples, which he greatly appreciates if his loud moans are anything to get by.}}

You roll one perked nipple beneath your fingertips. A quiet moan comes off your lips in response and you buck your hips into your hand, aching for something more.

{{You move lower, letting your tongue trail the edges of his abs. The warm muscle drives the man insane by the traitorous pace it takes as his chest rises and falls with every breath.

His hand winds up tangled in your hair, threading through the lock to tug softly at the roots and making you groan in arousal.

You’re quick in unbuttoning his jeans, pushing them downwards until they’re off. Anticipation rolls over you in waves as you move to the waistband of his boxers and Jimin tucks some strands away from your face.

You let his cock spring free and it taps against his stomach. Your mouth salivates at the sight. Pulsating veins run down its shaft, its head a pretty pink, tip glistening with precum and you lick your lips with wanton. He’s not very big, not in length, but the size of his girth seems to compensate for that more than enough. He’s thick, thicker than what you’re used to and even if you had some lengthier ones, you’re sure this one will put them all to shame.

Jimin’s patience runs low and a low whine echoes in his dulcet voice.

“Don’t just stare at it…” he mumbles and for the first time since the club, he sounds almost shy. Something which makes your stomach flip in arousal.

A smirk meets his eyes as you lower your head, his hand still in your locks and you take a tentative lick at the tip.

Jimin lets out a shuddering breath, eyes never abandoning you or your movements as you rest your hands at his thighs for leverage. You keep on teasing him, feeling his muscles tense beneath your palms and a crooked smile paints your lips.

You lower your mouth again, taking his head into your wet cavern and a soft moan breaks free from Jimin’s lips. His hand tightens its grip at your hair, nudging softly forward, not enough to be forceful but enough to clue you into what he wants.

Instead, you hollow your cheeks and a sharp gasp escapes him.}}

Finally, you move your underwear aside to tease your entrance and proceed to insert one finger into your throbbing cunt.

{{You begin moving your head up and down his length slowly, torturously and his eyes roll back into his head as it lols back. You don’t increase your pace, letting your jaw adjust to his wide girth, slowly letting each inch delve into your mouth. 

“Fuck…, you-” Jimin tries to talk only for another gasp to tear through his lips as you take him deeper. Coating him with your saliva and hollowing your cheeks again. He moans loudly, his hand rolling your hair into a fist, tugging at the roots as you take him fully, feeling him resting heavily on your tongue.

You pick up the pace steadily, bobbing your head and nails digging into the unmarred skin of his thighs. A hiss tumbles from his mouth in response.

You readjust your position to take off your shirt and bra. You then put more weight into your knees to give your full focus on sucking him off. You keep your cheeks hollowed, going faster and faster, a sturdy grip on Jimin’s bare thighs as your eyes remain stuck on his face.

You swear you’ve never seen anything more beautiful than Jimin’s face as he drowns in pleasure. His eyes are tightly shut, scrunched in concentration to not miss the feeling of your mouth on him. His mouth is agape as he struggles to breathe properly, soft gasps escaping his mouth instead.

It strikes you hard; how magnificently ruined he looks. How absolutely wrecked you have him, and the stickiness in your underwear grows knowing he looks like this because of you.

Then he opens his eyes lazily, orbs lost in desire and as they rest on your bare tits, his hips instinctively buck into your mouth with a cry before he stops himself.}}

You take a quick break to stop yourself from finishing too early and instead pay attention back to your clit.

{{“Fuck, stop for a second…” he breathes out harshly, pushing you away from his cock as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Why?” you say thoroughly confused and Jimin chuckles breathlessly at your puppy stare. He then moves forward to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“Cause I was about to cum on your tits and I’d rather do that inside you…” he whispers against your mouth and you find yourself biting your lip to suppress a moan.

“Now please let me taste you…” he mumbles seductively as he forces you up. You stand up in front of him, his head in level with your breasts. His eyes stare up at you, wide and deceptively innocent before he wraps his mouth around one nipple and rolls it with his tongue. You gasp out loud, arching your chest against him for more. His fingers graze your thighs in the meantime, moving upwards to wrap around your underwear and get rid of it, leaving you bare beneath your skirt.

“I don’t…” another gasp interrupts your words as he runs a finger through your folds. “I don’t think I have the patience for that…” you stutter, hips rolling over his fingers.

A harsh suck at your nipple has you crying out loud, grabbing at Jimin’s locks. While he drives two fingers in you, without warning.

“Fuck, Jimin!” your high pitched protest resonates around the apartment and Jimin curses, moving the two fingers slowly inside you.

“Fuck, you take my fingers so well, baby…” he murmurs against your chest, his low timbre sounding like heaven in your ears. His fingers move slowly against your walls, just barely find your g-spot that has you seeing stars.

“You’re so wet, look at you…” he brings the two fingers between you. They glisten in the soft light of his nightstand, strands of your arousal connecting the two digits as he moves them into a V shape. He stares at them, mesmerised before pushing one digit into his mouth. He moans at the taste, before pushing the other finger towards your lips.

Instead, you grasp at both fingers and suck at them obediently, making sure to suck all your slick from his fingers. Your eyes remain on Jimin, whose eyes almost roll in bliss.

“Okay. Fuck, okay. Get that skirt off and get on the bed,” comes his urgent reply as he all but throws you on the mattress after the skirt has joined the rest of your clothes on the floor.

You lay across his sheets, spreading your legs wide for him and Jimin all but falls on his face trying to take off his boxers, making you giggle in response.

Once they’re off, his movements are more smooth as he steps on to the bed. His eyes are dark, swimming in a pool of desire, never straying away from your face as he crawls towards you. His hands rest on each side of your head, hips pressing against your own as his eyes fall to your lips.

You’re breathing heavily underneath him, chest brushing against him with every breath and you arch your back to press closer against him.

“Do you have a condom…?” you say before biting softly at his earlobe, your hand wrapping sloppily around his thick length.

He bucks into your palm desperately before he nods. He reaches his hand on his nightstand, never leaving the warmth of your body, and grabs the foil package. You take it from him and rip it open with your teeth, too fucked out to wait and Jimin gapes at you as you pretend not to notice the twitch on his dick.

You roll it on him as he lets out a long breath and his grip on your hips tightens.

“Are you sure about this…?” he asks cautiously, giving you one last chance to step back.

You grab at his neck to push him downwards into a kiss. Your lips are rough against him and he presses further, letting his tongue dive into your mouth to find your own. Your kiss is sloppy, urgent, not caring for tenderness. Getting you even more aroused as Jimin instinctively rolls his hips against yours.

“Okay, got it,” is his answer to your kiss. His hand grasps at his cock and giving it a few pumps before sheathing inside you with one sharp thrust.}}

You let two of your fingers dive inside you at the memory, drawing a long moan, quiet enough to be heard only in the confinements of your own room.

{{Both of you moan loudly at the intrusion, feeling complete and utter fullness with the way Jimin is pulsating inside you. It takes a while to get used to him, breathing slowly to help yourself relax as Jimin presses soft kisses to the skin above your breasts.

Soon though his kisses turn hungrier, messier, bordering into bites and you can’t help but moan and clench at the sensation.

Jimin hisses and reacts with another sharp thrust, making your eyes roll to the back of your skull in pleasure.

He starts a brutal pace, slow but rough deliberate thrusts, moving you further into the bed.

He pushes your legs on your chest in a new position, as he leans on top of you and drives his cock even deeper into you. He hits your g-spot almost repeatedly, having you crying out and your eyes well up by how good it feels.

“Fuck, Jimin, fuck, don’t stop…” you cry breathlessly even though Jimin doesn’t seem like stopping anytime soon.}}

In real-time, you pick up the pace of your fingers, driving them deeper to press against your g-spot, as you keep panting upon your sheets.

{{“Fuck. You. Feel. So. Good.” he punctuates each word with a thrust, as they come out in loud, rough growls, eyebrows scrunched in concentration as precipitation gathers at his temples, wet hair hanging in front of his eyes.

You cry out in ecstasy with every rough snap of his hips, shifting your hips to feel more of him, desperate for as much as he can give.

Then Jimin stands upright, grabbing your legs to push them into his chest and away from your own, wrapping around them and using them as leverage. His movements don't stop and he grunts lowly with each thrust, making you see stars each time he hits your g-spot.

He pants above you, driving his hips deeper into you, his muscles taut as he flexes his thighs and his thrusts become even rougher.

“Shit, Jimin…” you plead yet you don’t know what for as his motions make your body move up and down against the mattress.

“What is it, baby? Tell me,” he hisses, eyes furrowed as he stares at your lips. “I’ll give it to you…” he grunts, his thrusts now matching his pants, hands getting tighter at the supple flesh of your hips.

“Jimin, please…” you whine, driving your hand to tap on your clit to clue him in.

He curses again, bating your hand away for one of his own to land against your nub and begin rubbing circles into it.}}

You remove your other hand from your chest to press at your clit as you drive two fingers harshly into your soaked pussy with the other. You feel your high approaching and you don’t dare stop.

{{You scream in pleasure at the added friction, legs moving as Jimin releases them to wrap around his waist. You drive your heels against his ass to press his cock further into you.

“How are you so fucking wet for me, huh? Did my thighs turn you on this much, baby?” he asks harshly as his fingers pick up their pace, sending you into a wholly new sensation.

You moan out loud at his words, nodding your head quickly as if you’ve gone mad. “Yes, fuck, Jimin. I love your thighs, love how thick they are. Wanna rub my cunt all over them, want my clit to go numb with how hard I rub it on them. Want my folds to leak on top of them and stain your jeans. Fuck!” you yelp when your words have Jimin giving a particularly rough thrust.

“Fuck, yeah baby that’s right. Those thighs are gonna make you cum so fucking hard, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” he hisses from above you, spreading your legs, the stretch burning delightful as another groan falls from your hips.

Finally, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming, high-pitched moans echoing inside the room and your cunt begins clenching uncontrollably.

Jimin realises this as his hips move even harder against yours and his fingers are relentless on your clit. “Are you gonna cum baby? Are you gonna cum like the dirty little slut you are?”

His words send you over the edge with a loud cry of his name.}}

You repeat the words over and over in your head until you’re a sobbing mess and come harder than you ever did before pressing your palm on your mouth to prevent any noise from getting out.

You lay on your bed spent and breathless, the memory ebbing away once you’re satisfied and your limbs are relaxed in a blissful numbness.

But, that soon also ebbs away, giving its spot to shame.

You just rubbed one off to Jimin.

And yeah okay you did sleep with him once, but you hadn’t used the memories to pleasure yourself before.

Oh god, this is getting out of hand.

You gotta end this crush of yours before it devours you.

[willowistic22]

Famous!newsies

Ok so here are my famous!newsies headcanons from an a modern au i thought of if newsies were celebrities/famous yknow bcs I couldn’t get this idea out of my head and idk what to do with it other than making a headcanon list nabsnzbsvsnsbz anyways hope yall validate me after not posting any original content for like…. awhile now hehe

btw it got longer than expected. And I mean r e a l l y long. So if yall wanna read this better sit down and buckle up! 

Jack

He’s an artist on youtube

Like a modern day bob ross ig??

If yall know zhc on youtube just imagine that but not so rich (I don’t watch zhc btw but i do know that he does custom art on iphones and stuff and that is definitely not jack kelly)

Anyways Jack simply goes by Jack Kelly.

So jack does art challenges. Like does the weirdest requests from his fans left in his comment section and stuff

Or maybe challenging himself to make art from a specific theme or a specific media

Sometimes he vlogs too but his art videos are what his fans like the most

His merch is amazing because he designed the pattern/drawing/whatever yknow. It’s printed/sewed/whatever on the clothing and it’s good quality. It’s pretty lowkey for a youtuber’s merch bcs jack doesn’t like those merch that just smacks his logo on a hoodie

Davey

He’s a fantasy, YA, romance writer (he mixes it wisely ok?)

And goes by David Jacobs

Listen he’s a hopeless romantic and i’m pretty sure yall agree too

He wanted to stick to YA romance. The classic high school lovers yknow

But he wanted to challenge himself since he’s been writing about high school lovers since he was in high school

Thus the fantasy genre came in mind

So yeah he likes creating love in his own universe

Whether it’d be different worlds, universe, species, time periods, whatever.

He wanted to direct the movies based on his books, but he’s actually lowkey terrible at leading on his own. But he did stick to being the script writer and co-director (look idk how it works in the film industry i’m just making shit up)

Crutchie

He’s a solo jazz singer

Crutchie gives off Michael Buble and Jason Mraz vibes tho

And maybe a bit of frank sinatra? Yknow ‘cause he sings jazz

Also he riffs thank you very much :)

He goes by Crutchie Morris to everyone

He usually plays the acoustic guitar or piano on stage

Ok but he’s like really good with the piano

Makes the best jokes on stage too. Some are just sarcastic comments.

Crutchie asking through the microphone : “Oh, straight?”

A fan he’s talking to from the crowd : “Uhh… no, gay”

Crutchie : “no not you, the vodka”

Everyone at the concert : *laughs*

Crutchie, jokingly : “Oh, you’re drinking vodka! Straight? No gay”

(yes that was indeed inspired by that one video of Harry Styles and a fan in one of his concerts yall can’t stop me)

Kathrine

She’s a crime mystery writer

Think like the modern day Agatha Christie

Okok but she goes by Kathrine Plumber on her books :D

She chooses that genre bcs she’s a huge fan of Agatha Christie

Her favorite book from Agatha is Murder on the Orient Express

Oh and her books are sometime very gruesome alkjsfhakjsfb

Nobody check her browsing history, she’ll look like a murderer

Ok but I feel like she also has a youtube channel about books and stuff and sometimes like to vlog

She also has a writing tips series on her channel where she shares tips on some of the frequently asked questions about writing or her fans leave a specific question in the comment section and thought she could expand more to it in a full length video

Also she likes to vlog while she’s in a book convention

Her books are also turned into movies and she has done a great job directing it

Race

Yall would be lying to me if you don’t think this kid would end up being a twitch streamer and youtuber (like vlogging yknow. I feel like his gaming stuff would strictly be on twitch)

And ik it’s widely agreed by everyone in the fandom that he’s a dancer of some sort so yeah he’s also simultaneously a dancer

I don’t think I need to explain any further bcs it’s just so in character

He goes by Racetrack Higgins

Ok so he likes to vlog on his youtube channel

Sometimes does stupid challenges

Maybe he’d drag Albert to do a challenge which he always says no

“I’ll just be your cameraman dude, dw”

Race : *angery*

Since Al and Smalls are the skateboard peeps™ race is the rollerblade dude™ bcs I say so

He has three cats named Racecat Higgins, Spot Clawlon, and Romeow (i’ve mentioned it before and I will mention it again hehe) and his fans loves them endlessly

Albert

You don’t think this kid would also end up being a twitch streamer and youtuber like his bestie up there?? Lmao you thought wrong (again, gaming is strictly on his twitch)

He just goes by Albert DaSilva on the internet

And yes he’s also a dancer because I say so

On his Youtube channel he also vlogs

Half of his vlogs starts with him riding his skateboard

“Hey, guys! Welcome back to another vlog-” *falls off his skateboard for not paying attention to a curb*

It happens way more often than he’d like to admit let’s be real. His fans make a compilation of it and memes on reddit

Always wear a snapback

Snapbacks are an important element to him so his merch store is really boosting his snapbacks

And just for the wormsie discord server he has one with the word ranga on it after it being born from a stupid inside joke he, race, and both of their fanbases combined share (@ my wormsie fam thank me later)

Oh yeah, his youtube besties are Race and Smalls just so we’re clear here :) (I’ll get to Smalls in a bit)

So I always headcanon Albert having two big dobermans. So his fans always want to see a doggy update because Zara and Zoey are everything to them.

Doggo vlogs are fun. It’s usually Albert taking the two good girls to Central Park for playtime or teaching them new tricks

Spot

He’s a solo rock singer

Is an amazing singer like wow none of the newsies expected him to have that sort of pipes to reach high notes

And he does it amazingly with no sweat

Also his instrument is the electric guitar to go with his amazing singing ajsfhasjfhajhf

Anyways he goes by Spot Conlon still

And his songs are very lyrical. Like very.

A lot of metaphors. No one knows what most of his songs means.

So basically Taylor Swift songs if it switched genres to rock. And not even like songs from speak now or red. But like if evermore and folklore songs were to turn into rock songs with a little bit of reputation vibes sprinkled on top. And his concerts has the reputation era vibes but make it spot conlon (hey non swiftie fans reading this i’m so sorry i’m pretty sure yall don’t understand wtf i’m talking abt)

That is also the only way i know to describe his vibe i’m sorry but i don’t really listen to a lot of rock alkjhfasjk

Anyways it’s a known fact that he wears tank tops daily that it becomes his signature look. And also an inside joke among his fanbase

Now just picture the merch booth from one of his shows and there’s like endless tank top designs for his fans to pick and choose

He’s also crowned to be the King of Brooklyn bcs of obvious reasons

But the joke is he’s a pretty tough hardcore guy that’s a cat person

Sarah

She’s a badass female solo singer

Mostly does pop but the badass type of pop

Yes, she does go by Sarah Jacobs

Fans were really surprised Davey and Sarah are related

Because one is a hopeless romantic while the other is a total badass

Anyways she gives off Little mix, Ariana Grande, Taylor Swift, and Selena Gomez vibes

That is literally the only way I can describe it

She’s very lyrical, with a lot of metaphors

When she dances on stage, she d a n c e s

All while holding a mic to sing. And she hits all those high notes like it’s no ones business (a literal queen i tell you)

She and Spot are besties and has been known to have done a few collabs together

Their fans were hesitant about their collabs since their genre is pretty different from the other but they make it work and it slAPS

And among all her boppy songs with full choreography and backup singers, she always have a few songs she sings while only being accompanied by piano or guitar (Either electric or acoustic) which she plays on her own

Finch

He’s an indie pop artist with his trusted acoustic guitar by his side

Just think of music by Wallows and Lewis Capaldi were to be blended in together and Conan Gray for the cherry on top

But it has a little bit of Ed sheeran, Lorde, and Lauv vibes to it too

His concerts are simple but his songs are mostly very boppy so his fans still have fun either way

And it’s usually in small venues but there are times where he had a concert in a huge stadium

He goes by FINCH (yeah all caps btw)

Finches are a very on brand thing for him obviously

Has been known to collab with Crutchie and they actually make a very good team

Somehow was able to combined both genres to produce a few boppy songs

Ok ok but Finch and Crutchie have made a collaborative album (and maybe they went on tour????)

Specs 

He’s a history fiction writer

Yes this is inspired by the fact that he’s 100% a history nerd (no one change my mind i love this headcanon aight)

And he explores a lot of different histories from different parts of the world

He actually helps a lot of students understand history even further for school through his novels

Anyways he goes by Specs because I say so

No one knows why that’s his pseudonym and Specs isn’t interested in explaining either. No one other than the newsies need to know it was born from a stupid nickname the newsies gave him :)

His research mostly comes from history books because of his genre which wouldn’t be a problem since he has loads and will voluntarily buy more if needed

Also yeah he makes a great director for the movies taken from his books

Mush

He’s a chef on youtube

Goes by Mush Meyers

So think if Gordon Ramsey and his youtube channel but make it mush

Yeah that’s it really

Ok but Mush is a jolly and friendly person

Other than just food vlogging he does cooking challenges and cooking tips too

Sometimes he does the cooking challenges with a friend (mostly henry but i’ll get to him later on in the list)

But he also vlogs his life

Which isn’t really often but he likes to sometimes

He’s that big of a foodie he has a food blog too

And also a seafood restaurant so that’s cool :D

Henry

Like Mush, he’s a chef on youtube

Goes by Henry on the internet and in general

Ajkfhajfjska I’m thinking about how ppl would address him as Chef Henry kajhfkjlashfjklasfjklsf

He mostly does the same thing like Mush actually

Food vlogging and cooking challenges (they do it together so) sometimes cooking tips

But Henry vlogs his life a lot

And instead of a food instagram he has a food blog

He has a sandwich restaurant

Yeah it is inspired by his pastrami on rye with a sour pickle line from KONY get mad about it why don’t ya (well if i’m not mistaken henry was the one that said it but idk i have horrible memory) 

Blink

He’s a youtuber

Ok so I have a specific headcanon that Blink majored in psychology but didn’t end up being a psychologist

So instead he becomes a psychologist on youtube

Who often vlogs jhgasjlfhs

The guy looks like he could cut you but his sense of humor once you get him talking is just *chef’s kiss* amazing

Which is why he also has a podcast because he’s also secretly great at talking

He just thinks mental health is very important, okay?

Romeo

He’s an actor

Mostly on Broadway but has worked with Hollywood before

He’s usually a supporting character but has been known to understudy for main characters

Ok ik these bullet points are getting shorter and shorter but these are mostly bcs some of these stuff are pretty self explanatory since it’s very in character

Like are you telling me a kid named Romeo isn’t gonna be in some way very dramatic and end up turning that personality trait into his career?? Plus he’s very good at that?

Yeah you’re lying to me

Also he’s a pretty frequent vlogger on youtube

Look he’s a fun guy, what did you expect?

Just goes by Romeo on youtube

Elmer

He’s an actor

Has done his fair share in Broadway and Hollywood but started in Broadway

He can dance but thinks he’s pretty average in it yknow

Which his fans has no idea what he’s talking about because on stage he can do flips and turns like it’s no ones business yknow

But he can sing really good and takes pride in it

Elmer would play characters that is really far off from his own personality that fans couldn’t believe that Elmer played that character

He has done his fair share in main characters and supporting characters on Broadway

In Hollywood he usually does indie and rom-com movies

Buttons

He’s a fashion youtuber and basically an influencer 

Let’s be real this boy is a fashion icon

He’s not really a model but more like a fashion influencer and also kind of a fashion designer

His clothing line is very *chefs kiss* amazing

He designed it all and sometimes likes to design for his friends as well

He also does fashion tips on his youtube channel

His instagram game is god tier level (along with Tommy Boy and Sniper I’ll get to them in a bit) 

But yeah he also vlogs

And goes by Buttons Davenport

Jojo

He’s an actor

Mostly on Broadway but has done a few movies in Hollywood

He radiates main character energy and he does become the main character most of the time (on hollywood at least)

On Broadway he mostly enjoys being apart of the ensemble because this boy loves dancing

But he does play a few supporting characters

He has released one or two albums too because his singing is top tier

But isn’t interested in doing a lot of live concerts with his albums

Since no one has the time to say Josephino Jorgelino De La Guerra he turned it into Jojo De La Guerra (so much for ‘a special nickname only for friends and family’)

Mike and Ike

They’re a pop boy band and bcs of my lack of creativity it’s called Mike and Ike

At the start of their career :

“My name goes first because I’m older than you!” - Mike

“You’re only older than me by 13 minutes, holy shit!” - Ike

But Ike slowly accepts the fact that it’ll be like this yknow

Anyways they’re pretty great singers

They have one direction and new hope club vibes

Tho unlike one direction they can dance (i love the boys alright but i really think it’s funny that they can’t dancelkhjjlh)

They like to switch from the guitar (electric and/or acoustic) to the piano

The amount of times their name is confused by the candy is too many 

But they like it like that lol

Anyways i’ve mentioned a headcanon where Mike has tattoos (not like from head to toe but it’s fairly noticeable to everyone) and Ike has piercings

So the only way their fans tell them apart is by that

But there are times where Mike has his tattoos covered or Ike took his piercings off in public alone. A fan mistakens them for the other twin but they still respond to the other name because they don’t feel like there’s a need to correct them since they’re mostly known by Mike and Ike anyways. When the fan posts it on instagram and tags the twin they thought it was the twin that was tagged would comment “wrong twin but nice pic you two”

Happens wayyyyy too many times. Their fans are officially scared to approach one of the two in public alone without their differentiating indicators on which is which

And yes it is widely known that they argue a lot when it comes to writing songs

Nothing out of the ordinary sibling squabble yknow but it’s a lot

But they do end up finding a solution to the topic of their argument and make a good team at the end of the day

Hotshot

He’s an actor

On Broadway, he’s one of those actor’s that is mostly good in just the acting and singing

He can’t dance to save his life sjdfghaf

So Jeremy Jordan yknow asj;oghajshf

No not really. He can dance a little bit

So he’s mostly the main character

But he’s widely known for his works in Hollywood

He does a lot of drama. Think stuff like Elite and Designated Survivor. Yeah those kinds of heavy drama (well idk i think those two are pretty heavy)

He wants to release his own music because he’s a pretty good singer but he can’t write songs to save his life either jgnjafjasf

And all the demo songs he was suggested by producers isn’t his cup of tea

So he’s no singer ladies and gents ://

The name Hotshot is used to name his social media platforms. He always adds a description in his bio’s that Hotshot is a nickname his friends and family use so his fans and the media refer to him with his name

I headcanon Hotshot’s real name is Tyler or some sort. No don’t ask me what’s his last name is because idk either lol

Sniper

She’s a model, beauty and fashion youtuber (I’m pretty sure those are two different things tho idk i don’t watch youtube religiously anymore), and just an influencer in general

Instagram game on p o i n t

I know most beauty youtubers go by their names but uhh… i don’t think i’ve ever thought of a first name for Sniper but I really think she really would just go by Sniper Wah on the internet (Idk she seems like an Ashley in my head but feel free to recommend headcanon names to me)

Anyways she’s very fashionable

Tommy Boy (i’ll get to him just wait aight?) and Buttons are her fashion besties

The three of them pretty much appear in each other’s Youtube video not Tommy’s tho bcs he doesn’t have one lol

Sniper’s brand are huge sun hats

I have no idea how or why but that girl has sun hats vibes I can’t explain any further I’m sorry

Doesn’t have a clothing line but does have a make up brand of her own. She calls it Sniper. Yeah that’s it akjfhjf

Smalls

She’s a twitch streamer and youtuber like race and albert

They’re a youtube trio everyone loves it

And yes she does go by Smalls

Oh and she also dances like her two stupid besties thanks for asking

Bubblegum is her brand (idk how to explain she just has the vibe)

She is skateboard chick

I’m imagining a video collab of her and Al on a skatepark doing stupid challenges

It’s her most viewed video

Tommy Boy

Ok ok he’s a model, influencer, and dancer

So think a male version of Gigi Hadid that dances

No he doesn’t have a youtube channel but frequently has made an appearance on Buttons’ and Sniper’s videos

Yes his instagram feed is also very amazing

He goes by Tommy Boy

People genuinely thinking ‘Boy’ is actually his last name and kinda think it’s strange but doesn’t complain

Tommy literally didn’t think people would think it was his last name. But they did anyways

Les

Let’s just get straight to the point : he’s a famous tiktoker 

And yes, ppl are surprised at the fact that him, Davey, and Sarah are related to each other 

To the people that made it through this entire list. Congratulations and thank you for your validation. Have a wonderful evening and stay hydrated 

i will write at least one oneshot out of this au i promise!!

[sams-sass]

Serenity

GIF not mine

Hello, I started this with one idea and it turned into something totally different. I hope you guys like it, thank you for all the love and continued support!

Summary: Sam gets hurt on a case and it’s up to you to save him.

Characters: You, Sam, Dean

Parings: Sam x Reader

Warnings: Language, drinking, angst, mentions of past, fluff.

---------------------------------------

You were laying on your bed, your eyes closed, your favorite song playing in the background. You heard footsteps outside your door and anticipated someone walking in before the knocks even sounded.

“Come in.” You called over the music, not even attempting to move.

“Hey.” Sam said, butterflies began to dance in your abdomen. You licked your lips and flipped yourself over on your stomach.

“Hey, what’s up?” You looked up at him and smiled, you were trying so hard to ignore the tingling building across your skin.

“Uh, we got a case.” He rubbed the back of his neck, he almost looked nervous…no distracted, maybe?

“Ok, I’ll get packed.” You slid off the bed, arching your back slightly and bending to get your duffel.

“Actually, this one requires a lot of research.” He was twitchy, like he was scared how you were going to react.

“So, I’m staying here.” You finished for him, nodding. “It’s no problem, Sam. I am kind of looking forward to some time by myself.” You said, dropping your duffel and crawling back onto your bed.

“Totally get it.” He smiled at you, placing his hands into his pockets, and tilting his head down.

“So, tell me about what you know so I can start looking things up.” You pulled your legs under yourself, fully facing him. He changed into serious Sam in front of you, talking business always made Sam hyper focused.

“Right, all we know is that each victim was completely drained of blood but had their throat intact. I don’t want to say it wasn’t a vamp, but the victims were all found in their homes and nothing else was out of place. Just seems weird.” He crossed his arms over his chest, highlighting his muscular arms.

“Hum.” You said, your eyebrows coming together and your lips pursing in thought. “Ok, I’ll get right to work and call you guys.” You smiled up at him, your eyes locking. He nodded and opened his mouth only to close it again, walking towards the door. He turned suddenly and looked directly at you, licking his lips before he spoke.

“I’ll miss you.” He practically mumbled on his way out the door, leaving you in a trance. Your lips parted and a small breath came out before a smile crept its way across your face.

“I’ll miss you too.” You whispered into your empty room, touching your chest.

“Y/N!” Deans voice rang throughout the bunker. You were still lost in the moment when his voice broke your trance. You took a large breath through your lungs, shaking your head and walked out into the war room.

“Hey, kid.” Dean said walking towards you. “We’ll be back soon.” He leaned towards you, touching your shoulder and kissing you on the cheek. He let you go and began walking up the stairs. Sam stepped towards you, there was a look of determination in his eyes as he ran his fingertips along your cheek. You and the boys shared a hug every once in a while, a kiss on the cheek sure, but this was new. Intimate. He leaned forward and kissed you tentatively on the forehead, his nose brushing along your hairline. His fingers twisted in your hair, his other hand sliding along your waist pulling you to him. Your breathing stopped, your heart slamming in your chest. You wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him tight, inhaling his scent deeply. He kissed the top of your head and pulled away.

“See you soon, Y/N.” He turned and followed his brother to the car. You loved the way Sam said your name, loved the way it rolled off his tongue with such ease. You heard the heavy door open and close before you were able to move, smiling like an idiot in the middle of the war room by yourself.

------------------------------------------

“When are you going to tell her?” Dean asked, turning down the music and looking sideways at his brother.

“Tell who what?” Sam asked, looking up from the map he was reading.

“Come on, man! Y/N, when are you going to tell her? This stumbling over each other chick flick stuff is making me sick.” Dean said, raising his eyebrows at Sam. There was a quiet exchange between them as Sam weighed his options. He could deny what Dean was saying and only annoy him more or he could tell him how he was actually feeling.

“I don’t know if she feels the same way and I don’t want to ruin my friendship with her.” Sam said, deciding to be completely upfront.

“Dude, if you can’t see how she feels about you, than you’re fucking blind.” Dean laughed and shook his head towards his brother. Sam looked at Dean for a moment, only to turn and look out the window. You were amazing and Sam couldn’t help the way you made him feel. Every time he was near you a warmth spread through his blood, fanning through his whole body. He could picture your beautiful face looking up at him from your bed, smiling widely. Just picturing you made his chest tighten and his breathing quicken.

----------------------------------

You were sitting at the library table, surrounded by books and random papers from files. Your hair was on top of your head with pieces falling around your face and neck. Coffee cups and plates littered the remaining area of the table, the boys had been on the road about a day and a half now and you had gotten maybe two hours of sleep since they left. You licked your lips and opened another book, scanning each page with precision. You jumped up and slapped the page, smiling in relief. You picked up your phone and dialed Sam instantly.

“Y/N?” He said, making you smile through your exhaustion.

“I got it, it’s a Dayan. A type of witch from India, they feed on the blood of their victims as their life force. They have to kill them in their homes in order to complete the transfer. Nasty bitches.” Your voice was light and clear, even though you felt anything but.

“Thank you, we really appreciate it.” Sam’s voice was like honey to you, making your tired eyes close.

“You’re welcome, you kill it with a knife dipped in ‘the blood of one of her victims’.” You said reading directly from the book. You were getting more and more tired now, you yawned into the phone. You heard Sam chuckle on the other end causing you to picture his smile, bringing a smile to your own face.

“Thanks again, Y/N, get some rest. We will be back soon.” You hummed your response, you could hardly keep your eyes open.

“Be careful.” You said, leaning your head against your arm.

“Always am.” Sam promised you, you could hear the smile in his voice. “Bye, Y/N.” He said before hanging up the phone. You stood and stumbled into your room, collapsing face first onto your bed and falling into a deep sleep.

--------------------------------------

Dean was grabbing the knifes out of the trunk as Sam was staking out the house. Dean slipped a gun into his boot before walking over to Sam. The two of them stepped into the house as lightly as they could, scanning their surroundings. Footsteps rang from above and Sam instantly took off, taking the stairs two at a time. Dean followed close behind him. Sam rounded the corner and the witch screamed in Latin, cackling. Sam instantly crumpled to the floor, his eyes falling shut and all color draining from his face. Dean stabbed the witch before she could get another word out. She fell to the floor and Dean stared for a beat, making sure she was dead. He ran to his brother, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him slightly. He placed his hands on either side of his face and screamed his name, desperate for Sam to move. Dean checked his pulse, closing his eyes in a moment of hope. He felt a faint flutter against his fingers, he let out a breath and lifted Sam with new found strength. He placed Sam in the backseat of the impala and climbed in the drivers side, racing back to the bunker. You would know what to do, you always knew what to do.

------------------------------

You had just gotten out of the shower and were slipping on your clothes when Dean’s voice broke through the stillness of the bunker.

“Y/N! Y/N!” He screamed your name with such agony in his voice it made your heart drop. Where was Sam’s voice? Why wasn’t Sam yelling too? You ran out of your room and found Dean dragging Sam down the stairs, his arms hooked under Sam’s shoulders. You gasped and felt all the air leave your lungs. Sam looked cold, unfeeling, unseeing. He looked gone. Dean got Sam to the bottom of the stairs and then you walked over to help, grabbing his feet. You were wide eyed and panicked as you two laid Sam out on the bed in the infirmary.

“What happened?” You asked checking Sam’s entire body for injuries and seeing none.

“The witch, Sammy rounded the corner and she screamed something and he just dropped. I thought he was dead.” Dean swallowed thickly, his eyes were wide as they looked between you and Sam.

“He’s not?” You almost fell to the floor with relief, you thought he was gone. Dean looked up at you and shook his head, his eyes filling with tears.

“Ok. Ok. We can fix this, what did the witch say?” You asked Dean, he was just staring at Sam not even registering your presence anymore, sorrow overtaking his entire face. You walked over to him and gently placed your hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look at you. His eyes connected with yours and his arms came around your waist. He practically collapsed into you, sobbing into your shoulder.

“Hey, Dean, I need you to focus. I know this is a lot, but I need to know what the witch said.” You pulled back slightly, finding his eyes again until he nodded. He wiped his eyes and then closed them in thought, trying to remember the exact words.

“occupavit animum tuum” He said with a questioning look. You quickly walked into the library, pulling out book after book. Your brow was furrowed in concentration, your eyes wide and frantic as you turned page after page. Finally you found it and your heart sank in your chest. You looked up at Dean who was staring at you from his own book. You let out a small breath and closed your eyes as the tears came. Dean stood up, stepping behind you reading the page for himself. He sank to his knees next to you, you turned and buried your face into his chest. The two of you cried together, letting out all the sadness and frustration. Sam was trapped, trapped inside his own mind. He was bound to be in there until the spell was broken or his body succumbed to thirst or starvation. You pulled away from Dean and once again grabbed his face.

“We’re going to figure this out, ok. We are going to help Sam, but first I need you to steal some fluids and medical supplies from the closest hospital.” You wiped your nose and stood up, looking through books again.

“Why?” Dean asked you, standing up himself.

“We need to keep him hydrated. I don’t know how much longer he has before he gets dehydrated, I don’t want him to die from that before we can save him.” Your speech was rushed and high pitched.

“Right, ok. Ill go now, do you know how to put an IV in?” He asked, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m going to learn now.” You said nodding, turning back to your books.

------------------------------

Sam was walking down a hallway he didn’t recognize, but it looked like a hospital. Everything was white and sterile looking. There were doors along the entire hallway, they all looked the same. How did he get here? Where was Dean? Where were you?

“Hello?” He called out, his voice echoing in the silence. He turned his head, squinting at the door in front of him. He turned the knob and stepped tentatively inside, looking around. A crib sat in the back of the room, pictures and other decorations were on the walls. Sam tried to look at them, but they were all blurry and out of focus. There were suddenly sounds of foot steps running, Sam turned to see his mom run around the corner to the nursery. Sam blinked and she was on the ceiling, her stomach cut. She took a large breath and then the flames erupted around her. Sam ran from the room and slammed the door, facing the silent hallway once again, his breath loud and heavy. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, taking a large gulp of air into his lungs to calm him. He rose again, blinking the tears out of his eyes and took a step. He needed to find a way out of here, to get back to home. When he thought of home your face flashed into his mind. He closed his eyes and pictured you, sitting on the library table surrounded by books. Your hair falling around your face as you read page after page. He loved watching you do research, the way your eyebrows came together and your nose scrunched. The way your fingers traced every page. The way you would stretch your neck and back out after sitting there for hours. He had to get back to you. You were his driving force as he pressed on.

------------------------------

You were holding the IV in one hand and pressing down on the crook of Sam’s arm with the other hand. You looked back over at the computer screen, reading the directions for the 80th time and took a deep breath. You held the needle against his skin and slowly sank it into the vein, blood squirted back into the IV meaning that you got it in. You let out the breath you had been holding and lowered your head, feeling some relief. You placed the medical tape over the IV and turned to look at Sam. You grabbed his hand in yours and placed it against your chest, letting him feel your heart beat. You kissed his fingers and went back to your books. You found a protection charm and decided to administer it to Sam, hoping to help him through whatever he was facing. You ground the herbs and oils together in the bowl, lavender, thyme, and frankincense. You then moved to Sam and opened his shirt so you could properly perform the charm. As many times as you had imagined removing his shirt from his body and running your fingers over his skin, this predicament never crossed your mind. You rubbed the mixture in the pattern shown in the book and spoke the words three times.

-----------------------------

Sam opened another door, fearing what he might find behind it or what might come charging out. He found himself, hiding behind a wall with a flask in his hand. He tipped the flask back and chugged, his breathing was heavy and frantic as he got more and more of the contents. He knew what this was, he knew what he was doing. He was drinking demon blood, hiding away in a corner behind a motel and devouring the blood he had left. His tongue ran over his lips, getting every last drop before he put the lid back on. Sam looked at his younger self, so full of hate and anger. Sam had released that a long time ago, he had moved on from the loathing and destructive behaviors. He moved on to you. You had no idea how much you helped him release everything he had kept built up inside of him. He closed the door and felt the shame gnawing away at him. That’s when he heard it, your voice echoed through the hallway. It was chanting almost, yes you were chanting in Latin. Sam closed his eyes and listened to you, letting the warmth spread within him. He felt a tingle along his chest, he looked down and saw a glowing light emitting from under his shirt. He opened the buttons to reveal a glowing pattern on his chest. Relief washed over his entire body as he realized that you were trying to help him. You were doing whatever you could. You were going to save him.

“Come back to me, Sam Winchester.” Your voice was a shaky whisper.

“I’m coming, Y/N.” He said to the empty hallway.

----------------------------

You were looking through the books still, you hadn’t moved since you put the protective charm over Sam. Your fingers scanned each page, looking for anything. It had been a day and a half since Dean had brought Sam back. A day and a half of no sleep, food, bathing, nothing but research. Your eyes had dark circles under them that aged you 10 years. Your stomach felt like it was in knots, your hair sat in a knot on top of your head. Dean sat across from you, dark circles sat under his eyes as well. He smelt like whiskey and sweat.

“Dean.” You broke the silence, causing Dean to jump a little. “Why don’t you go take a shower and I’ll keep looking. Then I’ll take one.” You could tell he wanted to argue, he wanted to say no and drink another bottle of whiskey. Instead, he looked at you and nodded his head. He stood and slowly walked into the bathroom. You read through more and more books until your eyes felt like sand. After your shower you felt a little better. You and Dean sat down again to research.

“Oh my, God!” You leapt out of your chair and clapped your hands. “I found it!” You said, your voice was breathy. Dean shot up from his chair and looked at the page. His eyes went wide and he smiled at you, wrapping you into his arms. He gathered some of the ingredients as you read them off. Shit. Your face fell when you got to the last ingredient.

“I need something of Sam’s, but the reversal spell also calls for a sacrifice from the caster. Not death, but something meaningful to the person.” Dean walked over to Sam and plucked a few hairs from his head laying them down on the table. He looked you in the eyes and let out a breath. The two of you set to work on perfecting the spell, making sure everything was perfect.

------------------------------

Sam opened a door closer to the end. It was the abandoned church. He once again saw himself, his skin was pale and sweaty. His eyes rimmed with dark, puffy circles. He looked beaten, broken, hurt. He often regretted this night, wished he had just slammed his hand against Crowley’s mouth and died. Wished he went down knowing that he had done the right thing. Then he had you. You came into his life and he no longer wanted to die. He needed to be with you. Needed to hold you. He wanted you by his side when the three of you saved the world together, but also when the world was calm. In those rare moments of peace, you were who he wanted to spend his time with. To laugh with. To watch stupid movies and eat junk food with. You were his everything, his serenity. The chanting started again all around him. The walls of the hallway began to shake, the doors rattling against their frames. Sam looked around for something to hold onto when he saw the light. He closed his eyes and let it take him.

------------------------------

You put all the ingredients in the bowl and touched your necklace. It was your mothers and the only thing you had left of your family. You were never seen without it and you never truly felt complete unless you had it on. You nodded and undid the clasp, placing it next to Sam’s hair in the bowl. You lit a match and chanted the words from the book, throwing the match into the bowl. It sparked back and all the ingredients lit up. Sam shot up from the bed, his eyes wide and mouth open. Dean ran to him, grabbing him into a hug. He held his face between his hands again and looked into his eyes.

“God, you must be starving. I know I am, I’ll make some burgers. Its good to have you back, Sammy.” Dean said, walking away without giving you or Sam time to answer. You both knew it was so he could process his emotions. You walked over to Sam, he looked at you from the bed and smiled.

“Thank y-.” Your lips cut off Sam’s words. He made a surprised sound against your mouth, his eyes open, eyebrows up to his hairline. You placed one hand on his cheek and you felt him relax under your touch his eyes closed and his eyebrows came together as his mouth opened to you. His one hand cupped your cheek, his other snaked around your hips, pulling you close to him. You moaned into him and wrapped both your hands around his neck, twisting your fingers into his hair. His hands slid under your shirt, caressing your skin. You pulled away slightly, letting a nervous laugh out of your mouth and biting your lip. Sam gently traced your cheek, you closed your eyes and rested your forehead against his.

“I missed you so much.” You whispered into the space between you.

“I missed you too.” He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. His fingertips trailed down your neck. He pulled away to look at you. “Where is your mom’s necklace?” He asked.

“The spell required a sacrifice of something meaningful. It was the only way to get you back.” You played with his shirt collar.

“You gave up the only thing you had left of your family for me?” He asked, he looked almost hurt.

“No, I used something from one family member to help another. You’re my family now, Sam. I can live without a necklace, I cant live without you.” You looked deep into his hazel eyes and held your breath for his answer.

“I don’t ever want to be without you again, Y/N.” He laid his head against your chest, holding you tightly against him. You kissed the top of his head and smiled, letting the tears fall. You stayed like that until Dean called the two of you for burgers.

You all sat at the table together, Dean making jokes about the two of you and you two being in such a high that you didn’t care. You ate, drank, and laughed until you couldn’t see straight anymore and retired to your rooms. You were putting your pajamas on when there was a knock on your door. You pulled down your shirt and called for them to come in, fixing your hair. Sam poked his head in and smiled at you.

“Mind if I sleep in here tonight?” He asked, he was nervous.

“I was actually going to suggest it.” You said, laying down in bed. Sam laid next to you, pulling you into him. You kissed him passionately and fully on the mouth before letting your head rest on his chest. He kissed the top of your head and let out a contented hum. You didn’t know how to bring up the topic, but you and Sam had always talked about everything. You lifted your head and propped yourself onto your elbow, looking into his face. “Do you want to talk about it?” You asked with genuine concern and curiosity in your voice. Sam took a big breath and turned his head toward you, smiling at you.

“I saw all my mistakes. It was a hallway and each door lead to another mistake I made. Ruby and the demon blood, not telling Jess about my dreams, the trials, Lucifer. It was all there. All the times I had failed were in this seemingly never ending hallway.” He looked defeated, like someone had just punched him in the stomach. You bit your lip and squinted your eyes at him, lifting your hand to run your fingers through his hair before speaking.

“Sam, every one makes mistakes. I do, Dean does, Cas does. Literally every one makes mistakes. In all those instances you were trying to do the right thing, you were desperate to take something that scared you and made you unique and turn it into something to help the greater good. I never once thought less of you when I learned all that stuff. I never thought you were someone who needed to be punished. You are a good man, Sam Winchester. A man who I deeply admire and respect.” Sam couldn’t look away from you, his eyes staring directly into yours. You thought you saw tears forming in his eyes, his lips curved up into a small smile.

“Thank you.” Was all he said back. He rolled over and turned off the lamp, casting the room in darkness. You snuggled back into his chest and closed your eyes.

“Y/N?” His voice whispered into the stillness of the room.

“Yeah?” You said, wiggling against him.

“I love you.” His voice was deep and heavy. You smiled against his chest, letting out a small laugh.

“I love you too, Sam.” You couldn’t see it in the darkness, but you knew he was smiling just as big and goofy as you. He flipped the two of you over and pressed his chest against your back, holding you close. The two of you fell into a restful sleep, waking still wrapped in each other. You found your serenity and he his. It was the two of you, forever.

[r2vi2]

Runaway

Mando x f!Reader

Chapter 1/?: Hauntings of a Runaway

Summary: Working here was never your long-term plan, and as time passes you realize you can’t afford to stay here any longer. As your past is fighting to make itself know a certain Mandalorian appears in town, becoming your only hope in making it off this planet before they find you.

Rating: SFW

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: No real warning I can think of for this chapter!! Added Character! Reader works as a bartender but get scheduled as a dancer for the night. Slightly alludes to some sexual or intimate situations and besides that canon type behaviour:) let me know if you see anything that I should add

A/N: This chapter is my first dabble into writing fan fiction, so it sets the stage for our favourite tin-can right before he meets the child, so it’s a lill over the place. A lot of the questions posed here will be answered in the following chapters such as their past, parents etc so a lill slow burn start. Hopefully, it’s okay, and I’ll be working on the next one very soon!!

It had been years since you’d looked in the mirror and had found a reflection that did not paint an expression of exhaustion. One would think that after so much time it would become easier, but leaning closer you can still see the same tired eyes that have haunted you for years. Quickly turning your gaze away from your reflection, before you linger on it to long.

At this point you're an expert at avoiding your reflection, only allowing yourself a quick glance when getting ready, never quite prepared to face the woman in the mirror staring back. No longer recognizing the young girl underneath, instead, opting to push down the memories of better times. You know it’s a weak attempt, but it has allowed you to move on from thinking about everything that could have been. Choosing instead to focus on the dance floor and bar that despite everything always seem to be covered by a layer of dust. Focusing on the countless bodies that come through the club for the same reason that you’d stay because it was all there was, for now.

Although it would be a lie to say that you didn't dream about the possibility of someone entering the bar and taking you away, someone to give you a reason to stop running away on your own. A second chance to explore the galaxy, perhaps even adventure or romance that didn’t end in bloodshed. That maybe this dread wouldn’t haunt you forever, weigh you down as you’re forced to watch the shadows. Never escaping the fear no matter how many times you’d try to bury it. 

You’re brought back to reality with the faint sound of water running through the pipes, reminded of the fact that as the years have continued to pass, nothing has changed. The idea of running away this time becoming laughable, as you don’t have a place to go to nor the credits needed to survive, either destroyed or depleted over the years. Instead, settling for the set routine that starts with the sunrise peeking through the window rails and ends with your ears humming from the music played throughout the night. Today not being any different, or at least, so you thought.

Turning back to the mirror you give your body one more glance, you note how the slip is slowly starting to fray at the hem, before bending down and slipping on your heels. Choosing to ignore the material for now as you let out a final sigh before making your way out of the fresher. You close the door behind you and glance down the dimly lit hallway, gathering your breath before navigating your way down the hall. Making your way towards your designated booth for the night, annoyed at the fact that you won’t be working the bar instead.

Tonight sent to the private booths instead, filling in due to a shortage of dancers available. A change from your usual routine where you’d entertain customers quiet conversations at the bar, before continuing to fuel their bad habits by the glass. Frowning as you’ll miss out on watching the familiar faces intertwine with new ones, sometimes seeing a glimpse of yourself in them. A glimpse of those same tired eyes you desperately try to avoid yourself staring right back at you in the face of a stranger.

Unlikely to the bar, the booths at the club feel far more intimate due to size. The small space decorated with black walls and a circle couch draped in a velvet like material. A raised stage with a stool in the centre of the room, leaving the dancers to be the centre of attention. While the red-toned lights that hang from above help to set the tone it’s all hidden from wandering eyes due to the heavy curtains blocking the entrance, forcing clients to pay before getting to view what was hidden behind them.

You can hear your heels click against the floor as you make your way to the stage to sit down, the music playing the only other noise accompanying you. Before lowering yourself on the cold metal of the classic black stool that has seen far too many days like these as it wobbles slightly due to a broken leg.

Caressing your hands down your body, you end up playing with the frayed hem of your borrowed slip. Studying the tattered material closer you catch sight of a few holes scattered along the bottom, accompanying a small rip that undoubtedly must’ve been from a previous customer. You pull a face at the thought, knowing how various clients tend to get dragged out due to their erratic behaviour towards the girls—before being banned from returning.

As you continue to caress your hands down your body you gloss across the room, noting soft chatter over the music before the curtains pull apart, revealing the first customer for the night. You try to even your breath as you ready yourself, sitting up straight on the stool before you flash him a smile.

-------

You leave your booth a few hours later, switching with one of the girls for the rest of the night. Deciding quickly that you’d scan the club to see if Kal was working at the bar, before you’d head to bed. All you had to do before going off to find him was hand over your boss' share of credits, after which you find Kal serving a customer a drink at the bar. As you walk up you note the people scattered across the club, all too engrossed in their conversations or company to bother you for favours.

Working here might not have been your ultimate dream job but some of the people who work here made for good company. From the girls and their endless banter backstage before opening to the guys at the bar that would drag out any customers if needed. It made the everyday routine slightly more exciting, it felt in a way like family. 

You turn to avoid bumping into a customer, before moving across the floor towards the bar a bit faster than before. Your eyes landing on an open spot in the far corner—closest to Kal— before you note a glimmer from your peripheral view. Too concerned with claiming the spot to take a closer look. The glimmer disappearing just as fast as it had appeared.

You plop yourself down on the spot with a melodramatic sigh and catch Kal shooting you a small smile before turning to you.

“Tough day?” he asks with a teasing tone, smiling at the pout you’re wearing across your face. Knowing just by your expression that you were in a dire need of food and company. Not even waiting for your answer as he turns to prepare a bowl of soup. Carefully filling the bowls with the hot contents for both of you, before making his way over with everything.

You straighten up at the sight of the hot bowl of soup as he sets it in front of you. “How’d you guess,” you chuckle, before swallowing down your first sip, humming at the warm feeling passing through you. Looking up when you hear Kal laughing at you, before digging in himself. 

You both sit in silence as you work on your bowls, looking around the club in-between sips as you study everyone, wondering if you should ask him if anyone interesting came by today. As you get the courage to ask him you catch the same glimpse from before in the corner of your eye, turning your head towards the source. You furrow your brows as you try to get a better view at the man in the armour. Struggling at first as he’s hidden partially by the shadows before you slowly start to recognize the armour, confusion set across your face as you wonder what a Mandalorian would be here for.

Intrigued by the presence of the Mandalorian you almost miss the way Kal tries to catch your attention, until the man in the armour whips his head around and meets your gaze. With a startle, you rip your gaze from his figure and turn to Kal with embarrassment, your cheeks flushed red by having been caught staring. Sucking in a breath you try to calm your racing heart as you feel the gaze of the warrior burning in your back, too afraid to return it. Instead, turning to gaze up at Kal when you hear his voice call out to you again.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice tinged with concern as he studies your face, before he sneaks a glance across your shoulder in search for whatever you were engrossed by just moments before, immediately recognizing the figure from the previous night. Furrowing his brows and straightening his back he returns his gaze to your flushed face. Watching your face as you collect yourself together with slow nod.

“Oh yeah… I-I just thought I saw something” You mumble quickly, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Interested in trying to hide your growing curiosity for the armoured figure. 

You'd never actually seen a Mandalorian before, having only heard of the legends concerning their line of work. Which only furthered your wonder on what a mercenary such as him was doing on a backwater planet like this? He clearly wasn’t indulging himself in any of the services of the club, let alone drowning his sorrows with drinks?

You quiet for a moment, wondering if perhaps Kal had spoken to him or disclosed any information over his plans here. 

“W-Who’s that?” you ask, turning to Kal with a hopeful look. Annoyed with the unusual stumble in your speech, hoping he won’t question you for it, before he returns your hopeful look with scrutiny.

“A Mandalorian,” he states matter-of-factly, “This is the second night he’s visited… “ He trails off, examining the man in the corner, wondering if he should continue his train of thought. The man in armour, still hidden by the shadows of the club before returning to face your curious eyes. “When he came by last night he was accompanied by someone else. I didn’t catch their entire conversation, but I overheard something about a bounty”, he continues as his eyes flicker between you and the warrior. Nervous that the warrior might hear the quiet conversation despite the distance.

Your breath hitching at Kal’s words “A bounty?” you whisper in disbelief as you subtly peer over your shoulder “Here?” The club seeming like an unlikely place for a criminal to hide, even in this corner of the galaxy. You feel a flood of panic at the acknowledgment of possible danger, before a thought crosses your mind as you slowly turn back towards Kal. 

Maybe, just maybe this could be your ticket out...

“Yea, I think it might have been a difficult one too” Kal confesses lowly before looking at your startled expression. The word -difficult- ringing through your mind, as you wonder who could possibly cause a warrior as such that much difficulty. 

Perhaps it’s why he had come here, to retrace the steps of his bounty.

Hope slowly growing stronger in your chest because what if you had seen the bounty come through the club! Or even spoken to them. That would be worth something, right? Could it be possible that if you’d offer your help to the Mandalorian, he would help you in return? Make a deal of some sorts.

Your thoughts quickly interrupted by Kal when he catches your expression. Knowing what the expression on your face truly means, worried that it might cause more bad than good.

“Don’t even think about it,” he exclaims before meeting your gaze with a serious expression. 

“I could help,” you counter without hesitation, trying to elaborate on your idea “I might’ve seen the bounty pass through the club-“

“I don’t think you understand the various ways that could go wrong,” he retaliates as he shakes his head. You can see concern rather than frustration written across his face as he folds his arms across his chest. You let out a small huff at his statement before he continues with an indifferent tone “besides, I’m pretty sure people like them work alone” before turning to put his focus on clearing the bowls from the bar. Stepping away to make his way to the back with the dirty dishes, swiftly disappearing around the corner.

When you see Kal fully gone you turn to steal a glance behind you in search for the Mandalorian, only to be disappointed when the corner is empty. His empty seat only furthering your frustration as it seems that the man in armour appears just as fast as he disappears, leaving you to wonder if he’d return here again tomorrow. Moving back to face the bar when you hear the faint sound of Kal’s footsteps returning from the back. Looking up to give him a small smile, clearing your throat awkwardly before standing up from your spot.

“I think I’m going to call it a night,” you say with a stiff nod towards where the girls quarters are. “I’ll see you tomorrow” you mumble as you feel your eyes starting to feel heavier. Glancing at Kal before turning around to walk away when you hear a low sigh escape his lips, making you hold your position. Looking back at his figure, you can see exhaustion set in his face as he rubs his hand across his face in worry.

“You’re going to do it aren’t you” he murmured, already knowing the answer. Putting his hands down on the bar before meeting your gaze. Feeling guilt slowly flood your system at his expression, clasping your hands together before you try to answer.

“Yes,” you reply weakly, aware of the way it causes Kal to stiffen his stance before turning his head to escape your gaze. “You know more than anyone else, that I have to at least try…right?” you practically plead, slowly stepping closer to the bar. Flickering your eyes across the club before settling them on him again “I’ve been here for far too long… I can’t— I need to keep moving.”

“You can stop—“

“No, I can’t… I don’t think I ever could” You say, slowly feeling the guilt over power you as your view becomes blurry. You bite your tongue to hold a sob threatening to escape before looking down at your feet. “I made a promise to-maybe we can find a way to both get out of here” catching your breath as you finish pleading your case, grabbing Kal’s hand before continuing “We could…w-we could find a new place to call home.”

A sympathetic chuckle escaping his lips before he turns his gaze back to your teary eyes, shaking his head in disbelief “I’m already home.” His eyes softening as he looks at you “This idea of yours— it’s your dream, not mine” he exclaims lowly, letting your hand go before cupping your cheek to wipe a stray tear away.

------

It isn’t until later when you finally make your way down the hallway that connects the club to the girls quarters. Slipping your shoes off as you go to open up the door to find the lights off and find some of the girls already sound asleep in their cots.

Walking in you can see the stars visible through the window rails beside your bed. They shine a soft light across the room as you go to pull back the covers to lay down, not bothering with changing. Too exhausted to focus on finding a clean shirt. Instead, pulling the covers over your bare legs, basking in the temporary comfort and silence. Trying to ignore the sob trying to make its way to the surface, as you allow yourself to take one last glance at the stars above you, before turning your back towards them.

Shutting your eyes tight you can’t stop the tear that manages to escape the corner of your eye at the idea of leaving. Letting the image of the man hidden in the shadows burn into your mind, so the next time you lay your eyes on him, you might never forget him. Promising to yourself that you will find a way too runaway, no matter the price.

------

You wake with a jolt, sitting up to see the sun shining brightly through the window rails. A low groan escaping your throat when you plop back down on your cot. Dust slowly drifting above you as you pass your hand through the air in boredom, knowing that if you don’t get up soon you’ll just fall back asleep again.

Dropping your hand back down you note the silence in the room, slowly realizing that you’re the only one left. A thought quickly discard when you hear loud shouting from outside the quarters, groaning when you recognize your boss’ voice.

Sitting up you can still hear chatter, not recognizing the voice accompanying your boss’. Passing one last glance across the room before reaching underneath the cot for your clothing. Settling for a pair of old pants and a cream button up that were left behind by a previous person, before silently making your way to the door. 

You put your ear to the door but can no longer hear the voices from before, frowning as you reach for the handle before turning it slowly. Peeking your head around the corner, disappointed when you see nothing, the hallway vacant from traffic as you take a step out. Turning back towards the room for your bag before heading towards the fresher.

Inside the fresher you do your best to avoid your reflection in the mirror while you work on making yourself presentable, blindly gathering your hair in a bun. A strand falling to frame your face making you glance towards yourself, gasping at the sight. Your eyes are red and puffy from the night before with exhaustion written across your face. Feeling your heart sting at the memory before you continue to navigate your way in the tight confines of the fresher to get dressed, bending down to slip on your shoes, you catch sight of a small hole forming around the heel and groan in frustration.

Great there goes another pair

Standing back up to grab your bag from the counter before laying it on your lap as you go to sit down. Letting out a breath when you finally spot the small pouch that contains your credits. You reach for it and dump its contents in your hand. Mumbling to yourself quietly as you count the number of credits available. Looking up from your hand with a sigh, before tipping your head back against the wall. Previous concerns returning as you realize you don’t even have enough credits to attempt to bribe the Mandalorian if needed. Closing your eyes you—

*BOOM BOOM BOOM*

The loud noise surprising you, causing you to loosen your grip on the credits, as they slip in-between your fingers before scattering across the floor. You let out a curse with a quick breath before you bend down to try and pack everything back into your bag as quickly as your shaky hands allow you too.

Trying to organize your thoughts before shouting “I’m sorry I-I’m going to— I just need a minute,”

Scanning your eyes across the floor to see if you missed anything, before you stand up from the floor. Dragging your sweaty palms across your pants before you take one more look across the fresher before you move to open the door. Coming face to face with an irritated scowl, recognizing your boss’ face before moving aside quickly as you can, shooting him an apologetic look for the hold-up.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were waiting” you say, as you fidget with your bag strap, before fully exiting the fresher. Allowing him to slip inside before you let out a breath, trying to calm your heart rate down before heading towards the exit, hoping that the market won’t be too packed for the day.

-----

You arrive around noon, the sun beating down on you as you try to make your way through the market. Occasionally, stopping at stands that pique your interest, before you continue your search for a stand that might sell you a new pair of shoes.

While walking a glimmer in the corner of your eye catches your attention, as you feel a shiver run across your body. You glance around for any signs of the Mandalorian, disappointed when you see nothing out of the ordinary, slowly returning your gaze to the stands in-front of you. Deciding that your heightened paranoia is playing a joke on you, making you believe in things that aren’t there--in people that aren’t there. A soft groan escaping your lips before you start moving along again, crossing your arms across your chest as you try to make your way through the marketplace.

After pacing the market for a while you strike a deal for a new pair of shoes, deciding you’ll try to avoid spending any more credits for the day, until you can’t help being distracted by a stand that is selling a handful of warm thermal sweaters. A simple black one catching your eye, as you make your way over.

Letting the material slip between your fingers you revel in the soft material. Wondering how the material would feel on the colder nights at the club, when covers aren’t enough. You let out a small sigh in defeat before you turn to flag down the seller. Startled when you catch sight of the Mandalorian a few feet away, purchasing the same item that you are holding, before tucking it away in his bag. You aren’t close enough to catch what his voice might sound like, but as you try to move closer you forget about the shirt in hand. Forced to quit your eavesdropping when you feel a heavyweight land against your arm.

“Ow kkriff wha—“ you groan clutching your arm in pain, before turning to face the vendor with a scowl across your face.

“Thief!! You need to pay for the goods!” the vendor shouts as he continues to hit your arm causing you to loosen your grip on the material until it drops out of your hand with a shriek.

Your cheeks tinted red as you snap back to the vendor before he can get another hit in “I wasn’t stealing anything!” Stepping away from the stall, appalled by the vendors' accusation, before you bend down to snatch the shirt from the ground and throw the material back in his face.

“You-“ he tries to snap back before you cut him off.

“I’m not a thief!” You say with a sharp tone, holding your breath as you wait for the vendor to challenge you. Instead, startled when the next voice you hear isn’t his, making you whip your head around as fast as possible, landing your gaze on the Mandalorian.

His stance calm as he tilts his helmet slightly. “Is there a problem” he asks in a challenging tone, as you observe his hand hovering over the blaster on his hip, his baritone voice sounding surprisingly husky due to the modulator in his helmet. Leaving you to stare straight into the blacked-out t-shaped visor of his helmet. Feeling his gaze burn as you finally let out a breath, before tearing your eyes from the man in-front of you to look back at the vendor.

Seeing him refold the material with a scowl on his face, unnerved by the warriors' proximity before answering “No, everything is fine.”

You can slowly feel your heartbeat start to return to normal, but struggle to regain your calm with the Mandalorian continuing to gaze at you. You close your eyes for a quick second before gathering the courage to face the warrior.

As you turn to stare at the Mandalorian you take a mental note of how broad his shoulders seem up close, the shadows from the club undoubtedly having hidden how significant he’d be in broad daylight. A shiver runs down your back as you continue to subtly scan your eyes across his armour, the scuffed up metal revealing some worn down areas affected by his line of work.

An exasperated sigh breaks you out of your trance, back to the marketplace and warrior in front of you. His stance highlighting his slight annoyance before he starts to move past you. Panic setting in as you realize that this might be your only opportunity to confront him, causing you to unceremoniously blurt out the first thing possible “I heard you were looking for a bounty.”  Holding your breath as you wait for an answer. Seeing the warrior freeze in his step before turning to look back at you. The tilt of his helmet revealing his travelling gaze across your figure, before straightening his back. The motion making a sliver of skin visible with his proximity, surprised as your eyes land on the tan skin.

Your question continues to linger in the air as his deafening silence engulfs you. Panic slowly starts to seep into your expression as you fear that perhaps he might have found the bounty already. Gathering a breath as you try to explain yourself “Right?—I-I heard you were,” stumbling over your words as you start to fidget with the strap of your bag, feeling yourself burn up under his gaze.

“Why do you care to know?” he questions after a moment, continuing to hold his stance your desperation slowly kicks in, as you try to answer in a convincing manner.

“I want to help… I could help. I actually saw you at the club and thought that—“

“You thought that you could help me?” he asks in a sceptic tone, wondering what the true intentions behind your offer is

“Well, I work at the club and— look, many strangers pass by, and I might have seen something. I can— or let you know if the bounty came through,” you continue as you glance down towards your feet, kicking up some dust from the ground before continuing softly. “I’ve heard of your kind, you tend to hold your promises when making a deal. So, that’s what I’m asking for… A deal, nothing more.” Slowly lifting your gaze to observe his reaction, disappointed when your confession is met with silence, once again.

So much for an escape.

A frustrated sigh escaping you as you question if you should continue. Your heart starting to thrum wildly when you see the warrior tilt his helmet in thought. Slowly raising his hands to his hips before letting out a modulated sigh “What kind of deal?” he asks with a low voice, taking one step closer to you, slowly closing the distance between you.

“The kind where I give you information, and you get me off this planet” you proclaim confidently, not sure where you found it but thankful nonetheless.

“I’m not a taxi service” he grumbles roughly, annoyed with your proposed offer. “Find someone else” he huffs as he tilts his helmet away from you before dropping his hands from his hips and turning to continue out of the marketplace. Leaving you behind with a confused expression, before an angered expression replaces it as you stalk after the masked warrior, refusing to let him go without a fight.

Taking a few quick strides you try to catch up with the Mandalorian, trailing behind him as he turns out of the marketplace into an empty alleyway. Refusing to acknowledge you as he continues to walk away, not bothering to slow down his pace for you.

Your frustration only growing when he decides to turn another corner, making you dash forward before trying to clasp a firm grasp around his arm. Your hopes that he’ll slow his pace for you answered when you feel the ground beneath your feet disappear.

Just not in the way…you’d hoped for.

You feel your breath knocked out of your lungs when he grasps you by your shirts collar and slams your back into the wall of the alleyway. Moving an arm across your chest as he presses you further into the wall, a pained whimper leaving you as he tightens his grasp on you. Your feet barely touching the floor with how high he’s lifted you against the wall. A jagged breath of his heard through the modulator, as you struggle against his arm, before you feel his hands tightening further around the material of your blouse as your wide eyes stare into his blacked out visor, trying to locate his own. Shock and fear written across your face as his physical response serves as a harsh reminder of whom you’re trying to strike a deal with, hearing Rex’s warning from the night before ringing through your mind.

“I. Don't. Want. To. Hurt. You” he seethes through his teeth, emphasizing every word as before releasing his grip on you, still hovering over your body as you try to focus on responding to his words. Feeling his chest heave up and own in anger as you feel your eyes drifting from his visor to the small sliver of skin visible, the scent of the Mandalorian slowly engulfing your senses as you feel your hands tremble. Wondering if you’re even allowed to see the tiny amount of skin shown, before tearing your eyes away, slowly feeling your eyes water before meeting his gaze, nodding slowly in understanding.

“O-Okay” you croak feeling your throat tighten up at his harsh voice. “I’m s-sorry—I just thought—“

“You weren’t thinking.” He scoffed, his anger clearly visible despite his layer of armour. Moving away from you in a fluid motion before shaking his head lightly, returning his gaze to your figure, noticing the slight tremble in your legs.

“I Just—” gathering a breath before continuing more clearly “Please let me help, it’s all I ask” you ask with a slight shake in your voice closing your eyes as you drop your head forward before continuing, “Please I’ll give you anything that I can, if you can get me out of here, anywhere. I don't care, you can drop me off wherever you’re going next” your eyes burning as you can feel them start to water, biting the inside of your cheek to keep it in. “Anything” you promise in a steady voice, swallowing the brick in your throat, before lifting your head back up to meet his gaze “Anything”.

Letting out a breath when you hear his answers coming out in a low voice through the modulator, “Tonight. I’ll meet you for information. If it’s worth something, I will help you.” Not bothering to elaborate any further as he turns to walk away, stopping for a split second in his tracks before continuing with a harsh growl “Do me a favour and try to not get yourself killed before then” before turning around the corner down the alleyway, as he disappears once again. 

Leaving you alone as you clutch your hands together against your chest, standing against the wall for a few second before your knees finally give out, letting yourself slide down to the ground.  

Maybe, just maybe you’ll find your way out

[hunnybby]

title: tally marks

pairing: yaku morisuke x fem reader

genre: general/fluff

word count: 3,200+

warnings: mentions of alcohol

a/n: happy late bday yaku! written for the HaikyuuCreations MPE August Event. prompt below:

2. International Hangover Day — August 8th is International Hangover Day, just a day after International Beer Day. The day previously was such a blast, though anyone can hardly remember it, but now your characters are suffering the consequences.

-

Time: August 7 on Friday, 20:17 PM Location: The bar, a few blocks down from the office Yaku’s Stats: Shots- 0, Beer- 0

“Just go inside, Yaku,” you plead, pushing your co-worker towards the door of the bar.

The bouncer eyes you both as you take Yaku’s wallet from his pants pocket, sliding out his ID and placing both yours and his in the palms of the man acting as a barrier between you and a few drinks and some dancing. With a nod, he hands the ID’s back, and moves a bit so that you could squeeze by, a passing “Happy birthday” coming from him. Yaku ignores it, thinking to himself that his birthday is the next day so he shouldn’t have to say thank you.

He hates his birthday. But every year since the year you met him, you’ve insisted on celebrating his birthday. And every year since the year you met him, he’s agreed (even if it was after hours of you whining that birthday’s only come once a year and you’ll only be this age once!).

But when you make your way towards the counter, and he hears you order two shots of vodka and a pineapple juice chaser for you to share, his eyes widen and he shakes his head abruptly. “Absolutely not,” he tells you, backing up slowly before bumping into a man dancing his butt off. “No shots. We have work tomorrow.”

You don’t look at him, but he sees you raise an eyebrow. “Oh? No work tomorrow?” you question, your tone dancing between curious and mock-disbelief.

His shoulder’s drop, he feels defeated. “Yes.”

You give a polite nod to the bartender and slide Yaku his shot, setting the pineapple chaser in between you two, “Tell me, Yaku, what day of the week is it today?”

The day dawns on him, and he runs his freehand down his features, “Friday.”

You give him a toothy smile, “Friday. Just this one shot, and a few beers and we can get out of here, yeah? It’s a double celebration- International Beer Day and Yaku Morisuke’s birthday!” you suggest, raising your glass to him, waiting for the clink. And when he taps his shot glass to yours, you cheer and the night finally begins.

Time: August 8 on Saturday, 11:27 AM Location: Your living room floor

Yaku jolts up from the sound of a toilet flushing, and he regrets this action immediately. He has a headache- the annoying kind. The one that he knows he will linger throughout most of the day. He has a funny feeling in his stomach- nausea. His entire body aches.

He’s thankful that the room is still dark, thankful that he decided to buy those blackout shades to keep the daylight out- wait.

He doesn’t have blackout sheets. And if his memories serve him right, he doesn’t remember getting an extra firm mattress.

“Hey, birthday boy,” you drone with a hoarse voice. He can tell that whatever he’s feeling, you’re feeling too. Your footsteps sound slow and methodical- you probably don’t have any contacts or glasses on. “Sorry my floors not too comfortable, but you wouldn’t let me take you to bed,” you say, handing him a glass of water.

He doesn’t have the energy to flush, but your words are embarrassing him. “Don’t say things like that.” He takes the water, and chugs it down immediately. And immediately, he regrets it. His stomach is telling him to drink things slower. “Thanks for letting me crash here.”

You sit on your couch and tuck your legs under you. You look down at Yaku, who has already positioned himself back comfortably on your floor. “Do you remember what happened last night?” you question him, a sly smile gracing your lips. “Or do you want me to tell you?”

Yaku makes a face, and looks up at the ceiling fan. What did he do last night? He doesn’t remember much- the last thing he really remembers is you challenging him, saying that you could match whatever he drinks.

Time: August 7 on Friday, 20:43 PM Location: The bar, a few blocks down from the office Yaku’s Stats: Shots- 1, Beers- 2

“It’s a marathon not a race, idiot,” Yaku scolds you, speech not yet slurred. But that red fanning his face is a dead giveaway that he’s about to have some fun real soon. “Besides, I’m bigger than you. I’d drink you under the table.”

You laugh and can’t help but agree with him, “I guess you’re right. But you aren’t that much bigger than me. I bet I could match you if I tried.”

The strawberry blond (in your head, you’re thinking ‘the cutest strawberry blond’) takes another swig of his beer of choice. “Don’t,” he sets his beer down. “I don’t wanna carry you out of here.”

He misses the way that your eyes travel to his beer. The smile on your face grows a bit wider, “How about we just drink like normal people do then? To you, Yaku!”

Time: August 8 on Saturday, 11:36 AM Location: Your living room floor

You push your glasses up the bridge of your nose. “You didn’t do anything embarrassing,” you admit, “but I wish you did!”

Yaku groans, and the small action is still enough to exacerbate the banging he’s feeling on his head. “So, we had a few beers- that’s it right? That doesn’t explain why I can’t remember anything.”

“I had a few beers. You had a few more than I did.” You gesture towards Yaku’s arm, and he has to bring his arm up to his face because he can’t bear to move his head right now.

“It was pretty impressive- the way you just put it all away so fast.”

Time: August 7 on Friday, 21:01 PM Location: The bar, a few blocks down from the office Yaku’s Stats: Shots- 1, Beers- 3

You watch Yaku finish his beer, chugging it down and taking his lips away with a satisfying ‘ah!’

Your eyes light up, and you take a sharpie out of your purse, “I have an idea.” Before Yaku can ask, you’re grabbing his arm and rolling up his sleeves, “Let’s see how much you can drink.” He feels the tingle of contact when you glide the sharpie on his skin, drawing four tick marks.

He’s at the stage of tipsy where he doesn’t mind that you’re in his personal bubble. “That’s a stupid idea,” he fights, but he doesn’t pull away. “You’ll forget to mark it. Probably be too busy dancing.”

“Not if you agree to dance with me,” you wink at him.

Time: August 8 on Saturday, 12:52 PM Location: Your kitchen

“Do you take your coffee with anything? Cream, sugar, or whatever?” you ask, shuffling through your pantry and fridge while the coffee brews. It probably has another minute or two before it’s ready.

The good thing is, Yaku has finally dragged himself up and to your kitchen. The brightness in your kitchen, however, is not doing him any favors. If anything, it makes the banging in his head louder, harder. He thinks that maybe sugar will make him feel sicker. “I’ll take it black.”

“Suit yourself, then.” You sneak some sugar and milk into your coffee cup before pouring the coffee in.

You settle the coffee in front of him, and he gladly takes it. The smell alone helps the drums diminuendo slightly. “That doesn’t sound bad, but I still can’t remember. Are these tally marks even accurate?”

You roll your eyes. “I may not work in the finance department, but I know how to count.”

Time: August 7 on Friday, 22:14 PM Location: The bar, a few blocks down from the office – the dance floor Yaku’s Stats: Shots- 1, Beers- 5

“Stop being so stiff!” you cackle, hunching over slightly to hold your sides. Everyone knows Yaku isn’t the best dancer, but you’ve never seen it in real time. “It looks like you’re doing the robot.”

You think he’s still okay but the droopiness of his eyelids and the slur in his speech tells you otherwise. “I don’t dance, Y/N,” he says again for what feels like the 30th time tonight.

He puts his hands on your hips in an attempt to steady you. “Let’s go sit back down, I feel goofy,” he replies into your ear. If it weren’t for the loud music and the way he breath smells like beer, you would have swoon. But your skin still feels hot under his touch. The bodies around you aren’t helping, either.

You think you want to run your hands through his hair, but instead your hands find his tie and you loosen it up for him. You hesitate for a split second before deciding to also unbutton the first button of his shirt. Your hands hover over the second button, but you push that option from your mind. He needs to relax, but you don’t think he’d be comfortable with an undone shirt.

“Just hang onto me,” you instruct next, bringing his hands slightly higher so they rest right above your hips. “And move!”

Time: August 8 on Saturday, 12:57 PM Location: Your kitchen

Of course, you leave out the part where his hands are on you. You can tell him that later, when he isn’t feeling like dying. But you make a theatrical reenactment to show his moves.

His eyes mimic saucers. “You got me to the dance floor?” He leans back on the chair, and uses one hand to cover his eyes. “Why? How?”

You shrug, hiding your coy smile behind your cup as you take another sip of coffee. “You seemed to enjoy it though.”

He’s shaking his head. “I rarely enjoy dancing.” He leans forward again, taking another gulp of coffee.

The caffeine seems to be helping, and he’s learned his lesson from the water that he shouldn’t be inhaling his drinks. It won’t do him any good. But, he feels less nauseous the more he drinks, and he’s grateful that he’s in your apartment and not in his. He knows he would have spent a little longer laying around moping.

“You really just danced,” you tap on your chin, thinking about the night and his actions, “and you were having a good time!” As an afterthought, you add, “We should’ve invited our coworkers.”

Time: August 7 on Friday, 22:30 PM Location: The bar, a few blocks down from the office – the dance floor Yaku’s Stats: Shots- 1, Beers- 5.5

Yakus’ tie is completely gone now, lost in the depths of your purse. The grip around your upper waist tightens just a bit, bringing you closer to him. You look up at him expectantly. And you think that maybe you’re too easy to read when you’ve also had a few drinks, because even inebriated Yaku can tell you’re thinking about something.

He looks around briefly, then settles his eyes on you once again. “People keep bumping into us. It’s better if we stay close,” and the Cheshire-like smile you sported when you took your first shot is now making an appearance on Yaku’s lips. “Is this okay?”

You nod dumbly, swallowing hard and clinging onto him even harder. The atmosphere takes another shift when you find yourself laughing again as he swings you both around in a clumsy stilled-tango, “Why’re you still so awkward?! Move your feet!”

He lets go of you then, then starts exaggerating his movements. “Like this?” He’s flailing his arms and flapping his feet. He whacks a guy behind him, but he’s probably as lost as Yaku and doesn’t react negatively in the slightest.

You grab his hands, holding them to his sides and dragging him away from the dance floor, “That was perfect! I have another idea now.”

He lets himself be led by you, freeing himself from your grasp to down the rest of his beer.

Time: August 8 on Saturday, 13:16 PM Location: Your kitchen

“You kinda looked like a chicken,” you point out, grabbing the empty cups and setting them in your sink, running the water to begin washing them right away. “It was cute.” Then, after a second to think about it, “It was like watching a toddler learn how to move their limbs for the first time.”

He pouts. This does nothing to help his case. Then, looks at his arm again. “So why does my arm have 8 marks?”

You rinse the dish soap off the last cup you are washing and roll your eyes in what you think is a playful manner. “Because we took one more shot. Duh.”

He raises an eyebrow, trying so hard to remember last night. “We did?”

The sound of dishes clicking together on the drying rack fill the air as you place them carefully next to each other. You grab the nearest kitchen towel to wipe down at your counter and your sink. “But just one more.”

Time: August 7 on Friday, 22:30 PM Location: The bar, a few blocks down from the office – the dance floor Yaku’s Stats: Shots- 1, Beers- 6

“Two birthday shots!” you shout out to the bartender, waving your arms to grab their attention. Yaku stands behind you, waving his arms in sync with you. His other hand somehow finds its way to your waist again, but you don’t mind. Your mind drifts to the thought of having his hand there forever, and you smile harder.

“Last one?” you ask, bringing your shot glass up to him as an offering.

“Last one,” he replies, bringing his glass up to yours before downing the shot in one go. It’s sweet, but Yaku still makes a face from the taste. “Remind me to never take that shot ever again,” he says, placing the glass on the table and leaving his hand there for support. “It’s too sweet.”

“You’re sweet,” you say as a way to insult him.

And when you’re stumbling out of the bar at 23:00 PM (too early, you think. But it’s been awhile since you’ve even been out), you have Yaku clinging to your arm as you squint your eyes to look out for your Lyft drive.

“You’re sweet, too, I guess,” he mumbles, more to the ground than to you. And it takes you a moment to realize that he was responding to your earlier comment.

The cool breeze of the night helped with the warmth you felt on your skin, but it’s all been for naught with his comment. Now, you feel the heat come back.

A quick glance at your phone shows you that your driver is 2 minutes away. This gives you enough time to position Yaku straight (or as straight as he could possibly stand).  “You don’t know what you’re saying right now, Yaku,” you grin at him. He still isn’t looking at you.

“You’re very pretty. Sometimes I go to the payroll office to see you. I know you hide by the printers there,” he admits.

You bite your lip. “That’s sweet, but please don’t tell anyone where I hide.”

“And I really…” he trails off, the sentence mixing with the breeze you feel.

This piques your interest, so you turn to him. And he’s finally looking at you again. “Really…” he continues.

But your Lyft arrives.

And Yaku upchucks on the ground.

Luckily, it doesn’t get on you. And luckily it doesn’t get in the Lyft either. It’s better he lets it out now. You wouldn’t want to ask him for $300 on his birthday.

Time: August 8 on Saturday, 13:24 PM Location: Your living room couch

Of course, you leave out where he compliments you before he blows chunks. That is also something you can tell him later on. But you don’t leave off the chunks part.

He’s groaning next to you, his left knee slightly brushing your right knee as you both sit cross-legged on the couch. “I threw up? In front of you?” He looks at his arm again, “I didn’t even have that much to drink.”

“You drank it so fast- guess you were sprinting, rather than marathon-ing,” you chuckle, repositioning and bringing your knees close to your chest. “But, you got it on the ground! I think I would’ve killed you if you threw up in the Lyft.”

And you both sit in silence for a bit, basking in it. Yaku especially, since his headache is finally going away completely. Something about your apartment is helping him through this hangover. He thinks that maybe it’s because of your blinds. He really needs to get some. Maybe he’ll ask you where you got yours later.

“So, what do you wanna do for your birthday?” you ask. Somewhere in the quiet, you’ve shifted your body, resting your back on the armrest of your couch with your feet at his thigh, pushing slightly to catch his attention. “We can get some brunch? Mimosas?” you joke, lips curling upwards when Yaku makes a disgusted face.

He can’t even think of alcohol right now. He might drink too fast again. “Absolutely not. We celebrated last night, didn’t we?”

“Stay then,” you offer sheepishly, “I’ll order food and we can watch a movie.”

Time: August 7 on Friday, 22:42 PM Location: The Lyft, on your way to your apartment Yaku’s Stats: Shots- 1, Beers- 6

Yaku fights, not wanting to crash at anyone else’s place. “I wanna go home. I want my bed,” he slurs, clinging to the passenger door and clicking the window button up and down. He doesn’t know if he wants cool, fresh air or warm, car air. Maybe he should ask you to ask the driver to turn on the AC.

“You can go home tomorrow. Crash at my place,” you tell him again for the 3rd time. “I live closer anyway. You don’t want to do a sleepover with me?”

He snorts, “Are we in middle school?”

You look out your window to keep yourself from smiling to hard at him. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this drunk; you also don’t think you’ve ever seen him drink so fast.

“It’ll be fun,” the car stops in front of your apartment building, “come on. You can take my bed.” You tug at Yaku’s arm and let him sling it over you.

“Will you be there, too?”

As appealing as that sounds, you shake your head. “I can take the couch.”

He visibly pouts, jutting his lips out to exaggerate his disappointment.

It’s a struggle to get the key into the door, but when you finally do, Yaku makes his way straight to your couch. He doesn’t land perfectly, because you see him slowly roll off to the ground. You have to stifle a laugh when he starts snoring immediately.

You stare at him a bit, deciding if you should wake him up, drag his limp body to the comfort of your bed, or just leave him there on your floor. Ultimately, it’s better to not touch someone who’s knocked out within seconds.

You open your mouth to say something, but shut it after. There’s no way he’d be able to hear you saying thank you. You’ll wait until the morning to bother him again.

-

tagging: @kingkags