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fairyysoup · 1 year

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western nights

♫︎ western nights - ethel cain ♫︎

pairing(s): eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: You're on a road trip to nowhere. Eddie wants to get the hell out of dodge. It's a match made in heaven- if only it were, actually, heaven.

words: 13k

cw: explicit, smut, piv sex, oral sex (f + m receiving), exhibitionism, light choking, spitting, eddie is 24, reader's age unspecified (over 21), illegal activities, theft, smoking, alcohol consumption, strangers to lovers, bonnie & clyde type dynamic, mechanic!eddie, eddie's trying hard to be a good boy he's just got issues, pining, perv!reader, some slight dubcon/somno for a sec if you squint, there was only one bed, graphic depictions of violence, a drunk guy being nasty to both eddie and reader, bar fight, blood, arguments, angst, hurt/comfort, panic attacks, an overall janky relationship here, inspired by the song western nights by ethel cain

a/n: *slaps fic* this bad boy can be written with so many cold medicines in my head <3 ethel cain if you see this do NOT interact i have done zero justice to your song and also completely disregarded some key aspects of the themes of it lol this is loosely based at best

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

He’s never looked more beautiful on his Harley in the parking lot, breaking into the ATMs, sleeping naked when it gets too hot…

You’ve become something of a connoisseur of gas station coffee.

You know which chains have the best. Love’s always has the best and freshest, with the most options of flavors. Pilot is usually a crapshoot, depending on what area of the country you’re in. Occasionally, if you can find it, Bodega doesn’t disappoint. And the worst, by far, is always Shell. Shell coffee, you think, must come directly from the sewers of whatever backwater town you’re trundling through.

You’re somewhere in Indiana, you guess, judging by the state-shaped keychains on the rotating rack next to the cash register. You grab a state map from a magazine stand and toss it in with the rest of your purchase. You were lucky to have found a Love’s so you could finally afford yourself some proper dark roast coffee; all the watered down arabica stuff you’ve been getting since Cleveland has only been making your head ache.

“What’s the quickest way to Indianapolis?” You ask the dead-eyed attendant ringing you up, a 20-something year old guy with bags under his eyes and bad skin.

He chews his licorice like a camel chews straw, staring up at you blankly. “I dunno. Never been.”

You look from him, to the map, and back. “Cool. What town is this?”

“Hawkins.” His bored-by-you attitude is overwhelming.

“Thanks so much for the help.” You afford the attendant a tight smile as you grab your bag of snacks and head out. It’s going to be a long night.

The air outside is stifling, summer heat hanging in the muggy air like a fog. The humidity makes your hair stick uncomfortably to the back of your neck as you peel off your old green hunting jacket and tie it around your waist. You’ve parked your van under the fluorescent-lit gas pump overhang, providing the proper lighting for you to spread the map of Indiana across the hood and bend over it, using your full coffee as a paperweight. You rip open the singular Slim-Jim you could afford for dinner, and pore over it.

There’s commotion across the parking lot, which stirs you from your rumination over the map. You glance up; there are two guys loitering by a telephone booth in one corner of the lot, sharing a cigarette. Teenagers who have nowhere else to be on a Friday night, you suppose. Five yards away from them, a third crouches in front of a badly vandalized ATM, the cause of the commotion. He seems to be hacking at the wiring with a pocket knife.

You ignore it. So far, on this trip, you’ve seen far worse than a guy stealing petty cash from a gas station ATM. Tracing your fingers across the paper, it looks like if you take state route 13 to I-69, you’ll be in Indianapolis by midnight. Shouldn’t be too difficult, as long as you can find the 13, and then you can find a place to crash in the city.

Grabbing an old highlighter from your pocket, you mark your route in bright pink. The guy from the ATM seems to have gotten what he wanted, moving quickly across the parking lot with his head held high, like he has every right to be there. He approaches a motorcycle parked on the opposite side of the pump from you, and begins feeding dollar bills into the machine.

“Hey, do you know how to get to the 13 from here?” You can’t see much more than his leather-clad shoulder and hip jutting out from around the pump, the front tire of his Harley sticking out from behind his leg.

There’s a pause, and then his head pops out from around the pump. A curtain of unruly dark hair frames a long neck, big doe-like eyes and flushed lips pouting at you in confusion. It makes you freeze. “Sorry?”

“I, uh-” What were you trying to do? Get on the right course. Right. Of course. “State- uh- state route 13? I’m trying to get to, um, Indianapolis?” You cringe at your own stuttering, nails digging into the paper before you.

The man stares at you for a long time, dark eyes framed by thick, curling lashes sizing you up slowly. Then, he rounds the pump. “The highway’s just down the road- keep going west and you won’t miss it.”

“Great, thanks.” You grab up your coffee and the map, crunching it between your tense fingers. He hasn’t moved, still leaning against the gas pump, arms crossed, staring at you. It makes you nervous, in more ways than one.

“You won’t get far in that heap, though.”

You pause. Your knees threaten to wobble under you as you look up at him. Your hand is on the door, you could simply ignore him and get in, but something in his gaze makes you stop. Is that… genuine concern? Or is he just putting on a show for you?

“What do you mean?” The heat of the coffee burns through the paper cup and torches your fingers.

“Well, your fender’s bashed in and, I dunno if you noticed, but you have a crack in your windshield,” he gestures at the long crack running horizontally across the glass, just above where your line of sight usually is. “Probably got a lot more shit wrong with it, too, I could hear you coming a mile up the road. Junkyard find?”

“Something like that.” More like, sat in your parents’ garage for so long that you took a chance on the fucked up radiator and bailed. “She’s good, though. She’ll get me another 80 miles, easy.”

“Are you only going 80 miles?” The guy questions, “Or are you going way past that and only doing the 80 miles tonight?”

If he wasn’t so pretty, with a note of flirtation in his voice, you’d be hesitant as hell to tell him. “The second one.”

ATM guy sucks on his teeth, rocking back on heels that creak with the movement. Rubber soled work boots flash at you from beneath torn blue denim. “Dunno if I should let you go alone, then. You might bust your carburetor halfway there and be stranded.”

That puts alarm sirens in your head. You’d back away if your car wasn’t situated between the two of you. “Thanks, but, uh… I think I can handle myself.”

The teasing smile drops off his face quickly, replaced by a look of subtle desperation. “No, don’t get me wrong, I’m not- I’m not saying you can’t handle yourself. Obviously. Or you wouldn’t be trucking along by yourself through Nowheresville, Indiana,” he chuckles. “I just, ah… let me level with you?”

Your face screws up, but you lean your hip against the fender nearest you- the one that isn’t fucked up. What is it with this guy?

“I’m trying to jump ship. Anywhere’s better than here, but I really want to get to the west coast. I don’t know where you’re headed, but I’ve got my sights on San Francisco. And, uh, I have experience fixing cars, working in a garage,” he confesses. “But I don’t have a ride of my own- this isn’t even my bike, really. So, if you’re heading to the city, and you could use someone to make sure your car doesn’t kick it going over 75, I’m your man. Besides,” he bats his pretty lashes at you, his fingers fiddling with the end of his long hair as he brandishes a wad of ATM-stolen cash, “I have gas money.”

“You want to hitch a ride with me?”

“If you’re okay with it. Otherwise, I bid you fair and safe travels.” He bows dramatically, throwing his hand in the direction of the highway you’d asked about. “But if you ask me, I think you’d be doing both of us a favor in the long run if you let me come with. Just for insurance, y’know.”

“Insurance?” You parrot incredulously.

“Yeah,” he grins. He has dimples, a wide smile that stretches across his face and makes him even prettier than you can stand to look at directly. “Just insurance. No other reason.”

“Mhm,” you grunt, going over the positives and negatives in your head.

Positives- your car is a piece of shit and you’re sure he’s right, you’re working on borrowed time and you’re less than halfway to your desired destination. Plus, he’s unfairly nice to look at.

Negatives- you don’t know shit for fuck about him, other than the fact that he’s apparently trying to leave town and makes a hobby of breaking into ATMs. And, hell, even Ted Bundy was supposed to be charming and cute, at first. This guy could be a crazy ax murderer, could be a rapist, could be a junkie who’ll steal your car and leave you stranded, could be, could be-

“MUNSON!”

“Fuck.” ATM guy glances over his shoulder, then ducks quickly around the side of the gas pump as the station attendant comes storming out of the store. He crouches, pressing his hands to the glass window of the passenger’s side and peers through the cab at you on the other side with pleading eyes. “Can you get me a couple miles down the road, at least?”

“What about your bike?”

“Not my bike,” he tells you for a second time. “My buddy’ll pick it up when he hears about this, please.”

The station attendant is making his way across the parking lot now, looking miffed. It’s clearly the most energy he’s put into anything today, but he isn’t moving very fast.

You’ve made worse decisions in your life. You sigh. “Shit. Get in.”

“Thank you, thank you.” He pops open the passengers door as you slide into the driver’s seat, tossing the crumpled up map in the back. You guess you’ve found a GPS, for the time being.

“Does my insurance have a name?” you ask as you peel out of the gas station. The attendant hovers by the pump you’d been occupying, looking lamely at the abandoned motorcycle in your rearview.

“Eddie,” ATM guy says. A ring-clad hand lifts between you, hovering over the gear shift and waiting for your own to settle into it for a shake, “Eddie Munson.”

You eye his outstretched hand, your stomach doing flips, but you’re unsure if it’s because of him or the very situation he’s just put you in. You lift your hand and bat his with your knuckles, a half-hearted acknowledgement without the formality. “Pleasure doing business with you, Eddie.”

Eddie coughs, shifting up in his seat to peer behind you at the station. “Fuckin’ Keith. You can just drop me off at the next exit, it’s no biggie.”

“Hm? I thought you were coming with me to Indianapolis, hot stuff.”

Eddie whips his head around to look at you. “Seriously? You don’t- you don’t have to, I know it’s a big ask-”

“You want me to change my mind?”

“Not particularly.” He sinks down in his seat again. “Guess I figured you think I’m more of a liability than anything.”

“I do, but I need all that cash you swiped from the ATM,” you hum with a snarky grin on your face.

Eddie chuckles, wringing his hands in his lap. His knuckles tighten and relax beneath heavy steel rings. “Yeah, better I do it than you, huh?” There’s an awkward pause, and then he blurts, “Do you have any road music in this thing?”

You reach forward and hit the volume button for the stereo. You’d been halfway through Danzig’s self titled album- Mother kicks in with the chorus. In the darkness, you don’t see the way Eddie’s eyes sparkle with adoration as he looks at you.

“I think you and I are gonna get along great, sweetheart.”

You ignore how your thighs press in on themselves while you sip your coffee, and you turn onto highway 13, headed for Indianapolis.

When you step out of the bathroom in the motel room in Indianapolis, you find Eddie hunched over by the window, wearing nothing but a pair of blue plaid boxers. The chain on his wrist jingles as he smacks at the A/C unit beneath the drawn curtains.

“Everything okay?” You ask, pretty much knowing what the answer is. Your hair drips water down your back, but you can still feel the muggy summer heat in the room practically smothering your pores.

“Damn Motel 6 A/C,” he grumbles as he gives it one last smack on the side, to no avail. “The unit’s broken, there’s gonna be no cool air in the room.”

“That’s okay, we can crack a window.”

“In this part of the city?” Eddie scoffs, looking over at you. “Believe me, princess, I applaud your optimism- I would have just driven away from me there at the gas station, given the chance. But if we crack that window, we’re gonna get fucking robbed, first thing. Believe me.”

“I believe you,” you huff, clutching the itchy motel towel to your wet skin. Usually you would just pull on a tank and a pair of panties and call it a night, but there’s no such luck for you here. You have a backpack full of old, dirty clothes, and no clean underwear to speak of- you’ve been washing them in public bathroom sinks since Columbus. “Well, I’m just gonna sleep naked, then. You do what you’ve gotta do.”

“What- you’re gonna- what?” Eddie blathers, sitting back on his heels. You stare at him for a second- he’s a vision of flushed skin and a cloud of brunette hair cascading over his shoulders. Knobbly knees stick up at awkward angles, hairy thighs disappear into the hem of his boxers drawn tight across his skin. Your eyes glance over the ominous bulge in the crotch of them, not willing to think about those parts of a man you barely know. “You really think- I mean- is that wise?”

“Are you gonna get frisky with me, Eddie?” You ask with a teasing voice. You’d learned enough about him on the way to the city- 24 years old, no prospects, big dreams, ran a D&D club in high school, worked in a garage to help pay the bills- that you’re fairly certain he’s a good enough guy to keep his hands to himself. You just enjoy watching his big eyes go rounder at the insinuation.

“No, of course not. Wouldn’t dream of it.” Eddie looks mortified. He backtracks, “Unless- unless you wanted me to, I mean-”

“Don’t overanalyze it,” you tell him mildly, turning your back to him to rifle through your bag. “We’re both adults, it’s hot, there’s one bed and we’re both paying for it. Something tells me you’ve done worse things than lay next to someone without clothes on.”

Eddie blows a long breath out of pursed lips, not moving from his seat on the floor. He doesn’t deny your accusation, just mutters, “You put so much faith in me, sweetheart.”

“Don’t make me regret it.”

You drop the wet towel on the floor and round the bed to turn down the sheets. Eddie’s eyes trail you; you can feel them burning into your skin, lit by the dim yellow light on the bedside table. It takes a moment for him to finally move, a single trembling hand reaching up to swipe a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the table.

“You gonna sit there on the floor all night?” You muse as you lay back on the bed. It’s too fucking hot. The dampness from the shower hasn’t dried, but now it’s simply growing with the rate your body is perspiring. Your hair and skin stick to the white sheets, which feel pasty each time you move.

“Just getting my bearings,” Eddie says, his voice tight and hollow. “You smoke?”

“Not especially, but I won’t stop you.”

The smell of tobacco hangs in the heavy air more potently than you expected. The humidity dampens the vapor, making it sting your nose and leech into your mouth, even though you’re not the one directly breathing it. It strikes you as devastatingly intimate- the thought that you might be breathing the smoke that’s already touched his lungs.

“Do you mind if I strip down, too?” Eddie asks after a long time of deliberating as he smoked. “Not that- I mean, I don’t have any pajamas, so…”

“Do what you need to do, honey,” you murmur, repeating what you’d told him before. “We can find a laundromat in the morning. Maybe get you a change of clothes somewhere.”

“Right.” He doesn’t say much after that, but you listen to him rustling around, stubbing out his cigarette in an ashtray and flicking off the bedside light.

He straightens up, silhouette looming in the blue-dark from the curtained window. You watch from the corner of your eye while his backlit form hooks its thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, and drops them.

He clambers onto the bed beside you, careful not to bump any part of you. You refuse to look at him, scanning the asbestos popcorn on the ceiling above you with an overabundance of scrutiny, willing yourself to focus on anything but Eddie’s beautiful body, especially what he has below the belt. It’s a bad idea, no go. You don’t want to see it, don’t even want to think about it- what it looks like, how big it is, how it curves, what kind of hair surrounds it, if any-

You’re thinking about it.

And you told him not to overanalyze it. To be calm about it. What a fucking joke.

“You know, I’m not as easy as I might seem,” you blurt out suddenly, unaware of why you even do. You mostly come off sounding like you’re trying to convince yourself of it.

Eddie’s head rustles against the pillow as he glances at you in the dark. “I don’t think you are.”

“Okay. Just- just making sure,” you stutter out. “All evidence to the contrary, and all.”

“I’m not expecting to get lucky with you,” he tells you honestly, a little flatly, like he’s afraid of any inflection in his voice betraying him. “You know, beyond the ride west.”

“Right.”

You both regress into silence. You think you’ve both said your piece on the matter. You might not trust Eddie, not entirely, but you at least know he’s not gonna try anything stupid if you let yourself fall asleep. You actually think that he’s asleep after so many minutes, until he opens his mouth again.

“It’s really fucking hot, isn’t it?” He croaks. His hands twitch by his sides, feet jammed under the downturned covers, but everything else bare to the open room, like you. His pinkie brushes yours, and he nearly smacks himself jerking his hand back toward his stomach.

“Yeah, it’s not… it’s not good.” You blink into the darkness. “Sorry, you must be regretting coming with me all this way.”

“Nah, not a chance.” He brushes it off, waving a hand in the air dismissively. “I’ve been itching to get out of there since I graduated. Feel kinda bad that I didn’t leave a note for my uncle, but it’s not the first time I’ve bailed on him. I can always call him from a pay phone. Kinda wish I had my guitar, though.”

“You play guitar?” you ask dazedly. You don’t have a hard time imagining it, now that you think about it. He has that rocker look about him, the kind that could grace magazines and be on posters on teenage girls’ walls, if he played his cards right. If he got his lucky break.

“Yeah. Pretty good, too, I guess.” He sighs. There’s a wistfulness in it, like he’s reminiscing on something from his past. “It’s okay. I can pick up another one once I get to California. Dropped a mint on the one I had back home, but I guess Wayne can always pawn it. Maybe get himself a nicer place.”

You chuckle. “And you think I’m the optimist here.”

“I never said it was a bad thing,” Eddie scoffs, then deepens his voice quite suddenly. “Two optimists, both alike in dignity-”

A burst of laughter bubbles from your chest, making Eddie grin as you gesture at your bodies. “Or lack, thereof.”

“In fair Indianapolis, where we lay our scene.” He ends his recitation giggling, the flimsy bed frame jolting with the shaking of his chest. “Radiant Juliet, you never did tell me where your chariot is taking me.”

“I’m not sure, really,” you admit, mellowing your laughter into a quiet giggle. “I just wanted to leave home. I was suffocating there, I needed to get out. See what’s out there for me, if anything.”

“And have you seen much?”

“Not much,” you tell him quietly. “Mostly truck stops and shitty roadside attractions. But we’re in the midwest, you know.”

“Don’t remind me.” He lays his hand back down on the mattress beside you.

You turn your body towards him, damp sheets clinging to your skin as you move. “California might not be such a bad idea.”

Eddie turns his head and glances at you, dark eyes finding you in the dim moonlight. “No? I’ll have to fix your car, then.”

“You do that, and I’ll make sure to get you where you’re going,” you whisper.

“Deal.” His eyes linger on your face, just inches away from his on the pillow. Flickering in the moonlight, two voids that hold all the stars in the night sky seem to take you in like you’re more beautiful than they could ever be.

This time, when your fingers brush, he doesn’t jerk away. This time, you don’t avert your eyes when you look down at his cock, but you sure do regret it when you don’t reach out to touch it.

He’s so pretty. You want to.

I watched him show his love through shades of black and blue, starting fights at the bar across the street like you do…

Your underwear and his come out of the dryer wrapped around each other. You spend a minute disentangling them, a small heap of clothes in a rolling laundry basket in front of you. The closest laundromat to the Motel 6 had been a five minute drive down the street.

You’d woken up with your head on his chest, your arm draped across his bare stomach, despite how you’d fallen asleep barely touching him. As if your unconscious body had known more about your wants than you. His hand had been tangled in your hair, palm cradling your cheek and a bit of your neck, like his own unconscious wanted to keep you against him, too.

The morning had been easy- the easiest it’s been since you hit the road. Eddie seems to have given you a sense of purpose you didn’t have before, driving around aimlessly, only stopping for fast food every once in a while when you remembered to eat something other than beef jerky and coffee. Once you had extracted yourself from his grip, you’d gone to buy him clothes from the resale store next to the motel. It wasn’t hard to find a plain black shirt and jeans, but used underwear was something you didn’t want to mess with. You’d brought it back to the motel, along with some food from the Waffle House across the way, and you ate cross legged on the bed while he showered and put on his new-ish clothes.

But now, you can’t stop feeling his hand cradling your head. His hot, sweaty skin against your arm. Your fingernails raking lightly through the trail of hair on his stomach, dragging through his pubic hair, your knuckles just barely brushing up the side of his length- thick, uncut, and so so pretty. Then, stopping nervously when you’d gotten too bold, fingers skimming over sensitive skin too close to his groin, and he’d twitched in his sleep.

You want him. You don’t even know him, and you want him so badly you can feel it even now, an aching blush between your legs turning into a dull throb when you so much as think about him.

You toss all the freshly washed clothes into a plastic bag that you’d grabbed by the door to the laundromat, and haul it out to your van. He’d told you to meet him at the bar across the street when you were done, since he needed to make a few calls on their payphone- he’d even given you his weathered denim vest before he left.

“For insurance,” he winked. “Uh, don’t wash it, though… I stitched it by hand, it’ll fall apart.”

You don’t put it in with the clean clothes. It smells like smoke and alcohol and him, the edges frayed and yellowing a bit. You hold it in your lap for a second, plucking at the stringy bits around the arm holes. Maybe you can convince him to let you soak it in a sink somewhere, hand washed and dried carefully over a working A/C unit, wherever you can find one. You don’t know when he last washed the damn thing, if ever.

When you pull into the parking lot of the dive bar, and you clutch the denim vest in your hand as you step out of your van, something sharp prods your thumb. You hiss, slamming the car door shut and examining what it was. The sharp point of a pin on the vest- which reads Motörhead- had come loose and pricked your skin, which now threatens to ooze blood all over the aged denim.

“Fuck,” you murmur, bringing your thumb to your mouth as you lock the car. You struggle with the vest while you walk towards the door to the dive, trying to resituate the pin so it doesn’t go missing.

You find him loitering beside a billiards table, pool stick in hand, a cigarette in his mouth. When he sees you walk in, his eyes light up, and he nearly drops the stick prancing over to you.

“Told ya I’d still be here- hey, you okay?” His grin turns very readily into a frown when he sees you sucking your thumb like a child.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” you mutter clumsily, “your pin just nicked me s’all.”

“Oh, shit,” he curses, reaching for your hand. “Lemme see- no, let me see.” He forces your hand open when you try to close it, and scrutinizes the little pin prick as if it’s the worst battle wound he’s ever seen. “Should’a checked to make sure all the pins were right, this happens all the time. I’m so sorry, baby, my fault.”

Baby. Your brain tries to process it. He called you baby.

He’s also kissing your thumb, cradling your hand with excessive care. He’s tasting your blood, sucking a little on the pin prick like you had been, so your skin is wet with a mix of his and your spit. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of the way he touches you. Fleeting as his touches have been, anyways. You melt a little under his gaze as his round eyes blink up at you innocently.

“S’okay,” you tell him with a wobbly smile. “Did you make your calls?”

He looks at you softly, a reserved smile on his face. “I did. Wayne’s miffed, but he’ll live. Told him I’d send him a postcard.”

You giggle at that, thinking you’d sign it along with him. Sorry for stealing away your nephew; it will happen again. “Good. Buy me a drink, handsome?”

Eddie beams at you, and his dimples crease his cheeks as he turns to the bartender. There’s a sweet, boyish manner in the way he puffs out his chest and orders you a drink, his arm circling your waist as he moves you smoothly toward the bar. As soon as a whisky sour has been placed in front of you, he turns and squeezes your arm.

“Hey, I gotta finish this game,” he nods at the pool table he’d been stationed at. “I got some money on it. Y’okay with hanging out for a minute?”

“Sure,” you chirp, sipping your drink. “Wipe the floor with ‘em for me?”

“It’s in the bag,” he whispers at you conspiratorially. You push his vest at him, imagining he wants to take his insurance back now that you know he’s not taking off on you, but he shakes his head. “No, you wear it. It’ll look good on you.”

His eyes light up when you shrug the vest over your worn out white t-shirt. As you lift your drink, and he turns back to his game, you think you’d do anything to keep him looking at you like that.

Eddie wins. You don’t know how much he bet on the game, but there seems to be hurt feelings when he collects the money that had been placed on the table. You’ve never been much of a gambler, and he hadn’t struck you as one- but what do you know? He certainly bet on you getting him out of Hawkins, and you certainly took a chance on him.

You don’t think much of it. It’s late afternoon- the sun’s going down, and you figure you’d better get going, but Eddie wraps his arms around you and says, “Dance with me.” And you do.

The jukebox in the corner only plays country classics. Patsy Cline croons over the speakers, taking you back to a time in your far off childhood. Eddie sways with you to the music, and even though there’s barely any rhythm to his dancing, you find yourself falling into it with him. Your head on his shoulder, his curly hair tickling the side of your face. His breath on your neck, cool on your heated skin.

That is, until a hand wraps around Eddie’s shoulder and jerks him away from you. A man with blond hair, clearly a few too many drinks in, snarls at him, “That game was bullshit and you know it.”

Eddie blinks at him. “If by ‘bullshit’ you mean I beat you, then sure.”

“You di’int beat me, you cheated,” the man sneers. “I want my money back.”

“Yeah, no.” Eddie claps the man on the shoulder, trying to push him away. “I won the game, I get the money. That’s how gambling works.”

You step back when the man’s beady eyes fall on you, peering at him over Eddie’s shoulder. “What’re you lookin’ at?”

“You leave her out of this, buddy,” Eddie growls dangerously, still forcing the man back with one strong hand on his shoulder. He’s trying to put himself between you and the man, you know. Still, you feel the need to fist your hand in the back of Eddie’s shirt and pull him away.

“I ain’t your buddy. Whatcha lookin’ at, bitch?” The man reaches out and yanks roughly on your arm, making you yelp in alarm.

And that’s when Eddie’s fist connects with the man’s jaw.

There’s a sickening crack. In the chaos, it somehow occurs to you that Eddie’s wearing all those chunky rings. You wonder if they could be considered a deadly weapon, in the same vein as brass knuckles.

It takes you a second to get through the initial shock, finding it hard to focus on who’s doing what. Eddie and the man have barrelled through a couple of tables, knocking over chairs. Eddie has the man pinned to the edge of the pool table, a flurry of fists moving from all sides.

“You don’t touch my girl!” Eddie shouts at the man. “You don’t fuckin’ touch my girl!”

His girl.

They tumble to the floor. The man curses and spits blood at him from a cut lip. A strong fist hits the side of Eddie’s face once, twice-

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” The words are shouted by the bartender, finally intervening, pulling the blond man off of Eddie. As the bartender restrains the unruly man, a second pulls an equally enraged Eddie away from him, separating the two.

By the time you collect a bruised and bloodied Eddie into your arms, you’ve already tuned out the rest of the ruckus going on around you. Someone suggests that you should leave, but the words only barely register. You’re already pulling Eddie out the door and to the car.

You don’t even remember if you closed the tab.

Trouble’s always gonna find you, baby, but so will I. Crying only because I’m happy, hold me across every state line…

You don’t know when you started crying. Maybe it was around the time that Eddie fell unconscious.

Tears burn in your eyes like you’ve poured gasoline in them, but no matter how badly it stings you just keep sniffling and driving, tearing down the interstate away from Indianapolis, toward St. Louis. You hopped on I-70 as quickly as you could, and from there you’ve been lost in a world of your own.

He’d almost look peaceful, if it wasn’t for the blood on his jaw and the nasty shiner on his cheekbone. You keep telling yourself it’s not bad enough for him to need to be taken to a hospital. You can’t afford to go to a hospital, and even if you could, you’d have to explain how he got in this condition. It’s a recipe for jail time. You know that. You know.

You just want to keep him safe, that’s all.

He hadn’t instigated the fight, not really. He’d just swung first. He was just defending you.

His girl.

When it gets to be too much, you pull over. Headlights gleam bright and then pass by in the dark with a whoosh of air. You think you must have crossed over into Illinois by now, or you’re getting close to it. The traffic has lightened considerably.

You rest your head against the steering wheel, taking deep breaths, but the tears keep coming in streams. A while ago, you had a mattress in the back of this van. That was before it started having problems, and it sat in your family’s garage for a year and a half. You should have put a mattress in it when you took off, but you weren’t thinking that far ahead. You were having a breakdown, something like you’re having now, only worse. It was a manic, get-away-or-die-there kind of breakdown.

Breathe in. You’re not gonna die. Breathe out. He’s breathing.

Once Eddie cracks his eyes open, he flexes his jaw with a groan. You can tell he’s confused by the inquisitive noise he makes, but when he looks at you, all that disappears in a heartbeat.

“Hey, what’re you- oh, god. Sweetheart, don’t cry.”

As if that doesn’t make you want to cry harder. His hand lands tentatively on your shoulder, stiff fingered but light in touch. He shuffles closer to you, pulling you against him to sob into his secondhand shirt.

It’s pathetic, you’re sure of it. You feel pathetic, twisting the cheap cotton of his shirt in your hands and saturating it with tears, as he shushes you and soothes a hand over your hair.

“It’s okay, baby,” he whispers into your hair, pressing his aching lips to your scalp in an attempt to calm you down. “We’ll be okay. I’m right here. What can I do?”

For some reason, the question makes you mad. “You don’t fucking fight,” you sob at him, the anger in your voice making him freeze. “You don’t- you don’t get into fights. I can deal with a lot of shit, Eddie Munson, but I can’t deal with that.”

“Okay, honey. Okay.”

“No fighting.”

“No fighting,” he repeats affirmatively, petting your head. Then he adds, “No gambling.”

“No bars.”

“Well-”

“No bars.”

“All right,” Eddie resigns, resting his chin on top of your head. Once you’ve stopped crying, from what he can feel, he tells you softly, “I’m not… I’m not like that, you know. I want you to know. I don’t fight, not usually.”

“You did.”

“I did,” he agrees. “I just don’t like… I didn’t like him touching you. Disrespecting you like that- did he hurt you?”

“No,” you lie. The guy had yanked your arm a little too hard, your wrist still smarting a bit. Nothing near what Eddie had taken. “He hurt you, though.”

“I’ve had worse, trust me.” His tone is ominous, like you don’t really want to know the heavy details of it. “I’m not a fighter. Used to be if I saw danger, I’d just turn tail and run. I usually just take shit on the chin. But I never had anything to fight for before, really.”

You sniffle loudly, grossly. “I don’t want you to fight for me.”

“I’m gonna protect you, sweetheart. No matter what,” he insists. “Long as we’re together, I’m gonna do everything I can to protect you. Okay?”

Long as we’re together. Like you’re a couple, like you didn’t just meet by chance at a gas station a little more than 24 hours ago. Like you’re in love.

His girl.

“My dad’s in prison,” Eddie blurts out, raking a shaky hand through your hair. “He, uh… he was a fighter. And a thief. And a gambler. And a liar. He tried his best to make me be like him, but I don’t- I don’t wanna be like him.” Eddie sighs, a sad sound that rips through your already bleeding heart. “I thought maybe getting out of Hawkins would set me straight. Finally give me a chance to make something better of myself, prove I’m not like my old man. I tried, but after high school I got in some trouble, and Wayne had to sell my old van to pay for my bail. Now I’m here, and… Guess you just take yourself wherever you go, huh?”

“Yeah,” you agree. Your fingers curve against his hip, squeezing the skin there. “So we have to try to change ourselves in the meantime, while we get where we’re going.”

Eddie breathes in, and it sounds an awful lot like a sniffle.

“Eddie. Are you crying?”

“No.” He is.

You lift your head with a wet, coughing chuckle at his futile attempt to hide it. You look up at him, your fingers tucking a lock of unruly, dark hair behind his ear. He’s staring back at you with glassy eyes, the tip of his nose gone red with the tears he’s holding back. He just barely flinches when your knuckles brush the bruise on his cheekbone.

“Hey, handsome,” you coo at him softly, your touch featherlight on his skin. He blinks, a tear dropping from his lashes. “I’m gonna get you cleaned up, okay?”

“Okay.” His lip wobbles. “Let me hold you a little longer, first?”

“Of course, Eddie.” You fall into his grasping hands, yanking you to him like a child searching for the comfort of his favorite teddy bear. You’d let him hold you as long as he liked.

You wash his face in a dirty rest area just west of Terre Haute. In the middle of the night, no one is around to tell you not to, so you follow him into the men’s room and take your time wiping the blood from his jaw and his hands. You gingerly apply a bandage from your car’s console to his bruised cheek, while he sits in the front seat and brackets your hips with his knees.

He gazes up at you like a man seeing God.

The neighbors beat on the walls, while I'm face first in the bed. Show me how much I mean to you while I’m lying in these sheets undressed…

You sleep in the rest area that night, in the back of your van. No mattress, just your backs to the hard floor of the cab. With no A/C again, you shuck your clothes and spread a single white blanket over your bodies, more for modesty’s sake than anything else. Even though it’s unlikely that a cop is going to run you down in the middle of nowhere, you’d rather not get cited for public indecency.

He holds you all night long, his arms around you and his chest against your back giving you peace, but he doesn’t touch you in any of the ways that you desperately want him to.

It takes the better part of a day to drive to St. Louis. Eddie swallows a couple tylenol for his face with his truck stop coffee and eggs, smiling softly at you from across a bright yellow plywood table in a cafeteria. From the look on his face, you doubt that he regrets the fight that gave him his wounds.

By the time your old van rattles up to another Motel 6 at the outskirts of the city, Eddie’s shaking his head. “The car’s not gonna take much more than this. I need to give it a good look, maybe borrow a tool kit and give it a tune up.”

“Whatever you say, magic man,” you muse at him. “Let’s just sleep in a real bed tonight, huh?”

His head tilted back, he looks at you sideways with a lopsided smile. You can tell his face is still hurting, but he puts on a brave face and bats his eyelashes at you. “Sounds good to me, princess.”

His touch lingers on you more, now, than it did yesterday. His fingers grazing your forearm as you open the glass door to the motel office, his hand hovering over your lower back as you sign for the room. His arm slung over your shoulder as he follows you down to the room, twirling the key around his finger.

“You think the A/C will work this time?” He asks you lightheartedly as he turns the key in the lock.

“Only one way to find out,” you return with the same warmth in your voice. If you from two days ago could hear yourself, and that ooey-gooey note of lovesickness in your voice, your past self might keel over and die. When did this happen?

You drop your bag of clothes on the bench by the bathroom door. Eddie bangs around the A/C unit a bit, until something starts whirring, and he makes a gleeful noise.

“It’s aliiiiive!” He announces dramatically, emulating Dr. Frankenstein. You giggle as he leaps toward you, practically throwing you onto the bed in excitement. “We have cool air. We can actually wear clothes to bed tonight.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, not even trying to hide your disappointment at the thought. The best part of your last two mornings has been waking up to his naked body beside yours, warm and soft and littered with tattoos that you just can’t stop looking at.

You mean, I won’t get to wake up to your skin on mine tomorrow? I won’t be able to pretend like I’m not staring at your dick and imagining all the things I want to do to it? How will I be able to admire you for my own perverted gain?

You don’t even realize that you’re stroking your fingers across his bruised cheek until he leans into your touch. Then you take inventory of your current position- your back to the mattress, his body hovering over you, half covering you. Caging you in with his arms. His long hair creates a veil around your faces.

When he blinks his eyes open at you, you can tell where his mind is before he opens his mouth. “Did we have our first fight yesterday?”

You frown, a puff of air exiting your nose. “No, I think I’d call it laying ground rules.”

“Ground rules,” Eddie nods, his sore cheek rubbing against your hand. You’re starting to wonder if he likes the pain, since he won’t stop pushing into it. “I’m not great at remembering rules. What were they, again?”

“No fighting.”

“Right, and no gambling.”

“No bars.”

He squints. “Is that one still up for negotiation, or…?” He trails off, giggling as you smack your hand lightly against his shoulder. “Kidding! I’m kidding. No bars. Got it.”

“And that was it,” you tell him sweetly. “Unless there was another one you wanted to add?”

He stares at you for a long moment, his fingers twirling in the hair right beside your ear as he gets lost in thought. Say what you’re thinking, your mind practically screams at him. Please, god, say what we’re both thinking…

Eddie licks his lips and finally says, “No sleeping with clothes on?”

Gotcha. A creeping smile stretches your face, trying to play coy even when your heart’s beating a mile a minute. Eddie’s eyebrows raise at you, waiting for an answer.

“I’m not easy, Eddie.”

“I know,” he tells you, mirroring your smile. “I don’t expect to get lucky with you.”

“I know,” you hum. Your hand drifts up the side of his torso, a more firm and languorous touch than you’d previously been brave enough to give him. “But do you want to?”

Eddie shudders, and it’s the first honest to god evidence you have that you turn him on as much as he does you. The realization feels rapturous.

“God, yes.”

He kisses you then, open-mouthed and passionate, his hand cupping your jaw to keep you where he wants you. Your nails scratch up his back with a loud tearing sound against his shirt, and he chuckles as you frantically clutch at him with all your strength.

“I know, pretty girl,” he murmurs, pecking your lips briefly before descending to bite at your jaw. “You’ve been wanting this since that first night. Feelin’ me up in the morning, like I wouldn’t notice…”

“I didn’t wanna wake you,” you hiccup as his hand cups the crotch of your jeans, rocking the meat of his palm firmly where you’re dying for friction. “Oh, ffffuck Eddie, m’sorry…”

“And here you were, thinking I was the pervert,” he grunts. “‘Least I can keep my hands to myself, hm?”

“I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry,” you babble at him, hands shaking as they grip onto his shoulders. Now that the aching throb between your legs is back, and he’s finally giving it attention, you can’t seem to come up with a more coherent sentence. Your face grows hot, but not at the fact that you’d been caught in your lechery- just because he turns you on more than you can think to admit.

“Don’t be sorry, sweet thing,” Eddie whispers. His dark eyes are lined up with yours, the curtain of his hair shielding them from reflecting any of the light from the desk lamp- it’s just you and the starry voids of space, locked in your own little world. He rubs his hand back and forth with practiced pressure against the front of your jeans, your hips kicking up against him. “I want you to touch me. Want you to do whatever you want with me, baby.”

“Whatever I want?” Your fingers dragging up his lower back, under his shirt to feel the heat of his skin.

“Anything,” he insists, kissing you again. Wet and sloppy, teeth clacking as you grind up into his palm. Your thick denim jeans are about the most abominable things that have ever existed.

You feel like your head’s on sideways with how pent up you already are. “I want you to fuck me Eddie- jesus chr- can we do that? Right now? Please?”

Eddie laughs. A happy, whole-hearted, almost disbelieving laugh. “Thought I was gonna be the one begging you, after all this…” His breath hitches, the touch of his hand leaving you so that he can push himself back. “Lemme get you out of these clothes, yeah?”

You nod quickly, earning a pleased hum from him. The way he undresses you is touched by reverence; his fingers slow as they drag the cotton of your shirt over your head, grazing your skin all the way. His lips dancing across your collarbone as he undoes the front of your stupid fucking jeans. You just want them off, done with and laying in a pile to be forgotten about by the motel room door, but Eddie has other plans.

“Slow.” He grabs your hip to stop your wiggling, fingers curled around the back of the waistband of them as he pulls the denim down your thighs. “We’ve got all night, baby. I’m not leaving. Not going anywhere.”

“I want you,” you insist desperately, sounding like a broken record. Your distress is evident on your face, in the way you clench your thighs together to hide the obnoxious wet spot growing on your cotton panties. You wonder if he’d felt it when he was touching you over your jeans, if the heat and dampness had soaked through the denim as well. You wouldn’t be surprised.

“You have me, sweetheart,” Eddie ensures. “Don’t… I don’t want you to worry about it. M’gonna make sure there are no worries in that pretty head.”

He yanks his t-shirt off, the one you’d bought him from the resale store. A cloud of frizzy, dark hair obscures his pretty face for half a second, the shirt landing on the floor somewhere off to the side, and then Eddie’s eyes find you again, grinning at you widely with pointed teeth.

You grab for him, your fingers looping around the chain that hangs from his neck. Tugging him down, you press a gentle kiss to his lips. Then to his sore jaw, where a tiny scab has formed on the right side of his chin. Then to his bruised cheek, where he flutters his eyes shut and groans softly at the brush of your lips.

“My boy,” you whisper to him, and you don’t even know if he understands the significance of it to you. His girl. Your boy.

Eddie smiles against your skin. He peppers kisses everywhere he can reach, down onto your chest, dragging his sharp teeth every once in a while just to hear you keen. You’re certain you’ve ruined your underwear now, feeling the wetness grow cool against your skin.

What a fucking concept. Cool air.

Eddie seems to have the same thought as you, as he slips his fingers beneath the white cotton and peels them down your legs. Strings of your arousal stick to the wet fabric, dropping off in thick tendrils onto the sheets below you as he groans lowly.

“Fuck,” Eddie curses, shaking his head in chastisement as he settles between your legs at the end of the bed. He tsks, “Just look at you, poor thing. Should’a said something to me, can’t have you going around like this.”

You shiver as he trails his mouth up the inside of your thigh. His day-old stubble scrapes your sensitive skin, making you break out in a cold sweat. “M’not- I didn’t want you to think-”

“That you’re easy?” He coos with a condescending smile. “No, honey. I know, you’re a good girl.” He nips at the widest part of your thigh, plush flesh indenting with the imprint of his teeth. “But I’m no good. You should know that, better than anyone. No good for you.”

Eddie’s tongue burns and soothes at the same time, leaving your brain a scrambled mess on the mattress beneath you. He gathers all of your collected arousal into his mouth, groaning like he’s been desperate to taste it all this time. “Been dreaming of this since I saw you, pretty girl.”

Pulling your leg over his bare shoulder, he all but crushes you against his face, his sturdy hands wrapped around your hips to hold you still. Your back arched, your hips fully off the bed as he lifts your lower half into the air.

You choke out the first part of his name, your hands fisting in the comforter next to your head. There’s a twist of pleasure deep in your core that makes you whine far louder than necessary, a waterfall of words spilling from you before you can stop them, “Oh shit- Ed- I don’t- s’too good-”

“Too good?” Eddie snickers, eyes bright as he watches you from between your thighs. “Nothing's too good for you.”

Then he spits onto your already soaked and swollen pussy. You sob, positively crying from the feeling of it, drenched and dripping along your sensitive flesh. Eddie spreads the wetness around with his tongue, and your cunt clamps down hard at the lewd squelch of it, the mortifying slurp of his lips closing down and sucking on your labia.

“Oh fuck, what the fuck-” you whimper high to the ceiling, mouth hanging open in shock.

You could have been doing this for days. He could have fucked you like this the first night, when you lay next to him, naked in the dark. Your body aches at the thought of being deprived of this longer than necessary.

“That’s it, baby, just stay still. Let me ruin you, huh?” Eddie murmurs, letting your thigh rest heavy on his shoulder so that he can move one hand, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit in front of his face. He watches your cunt glisten and throb for him, listening to your desperate sobs echo through the otherwise silent room, and whispers, “Shit. Like my own little fuckin’ pornstar, sweetheart.”

Normally, you wouldn’t exactly take that as a compliment- but with the way he says it, with his voice thick and dark like that, and with the way the hot, slick velvet of his tongue dips into your channel and shoots electricity along your skin, you figure he must have meant it like one.

He goes slow, thrusting into you gently, taking his time to get familiar between your legs. Still, it doesn’t stop you from positively shrieking toward the ceiling when he licks you from hole to clit, the entire expanse of his tongue sweeping along nerve endings that are charged like live wires.

Eddie chuckles, hot breath spilling out over your feverish skin, and he pauses there. Lets you feel the warm press of his flattened tongue before he just barely rubs it back and forth, back and forth-

“Eddie-!?” You gasp, an erotically loud moan spilling out of your mouth right before you come all over his. You crumble, your hips threatening to buck out of his steady grip as searing euphoria rips through you. He scrambles, ringed fingers locking tight enough on your waist to bruise, keeping you against him as you thrash wildly.

He keeps you like that for a long time, purring into your spasming pussy while an array of unhinged noises pour from your body- your mouth, your hands tearing at the sheets and at your head, your cunt and all its wet filth drenching Eddie’s bruised face.

If it hurts him, he doesn’t let on. He just keeps going, and going.

Until something pounds against the wall behind your head. You hiccup, your dazed, post-orgasm brain unable to comprehend where the sound is coming from. That wasn’t- couldn’t have been me…

“Pretty sounds,” Eddie giggles as he finally pulls his mouth away from you. “Guess the neighbors agree.”

“Oh, god.” Your hands cover your face, hot and sticky with sweat. Your eyes feel heavy, fuck-drunk, your heart still pounding in your chest from the adrenaline of the orgasm Eddie gave you. You feel embarrassed, like you ought to be going over to apologize to whatever sorry person happens to be sharing a wall with you, now.

Eddie has other plans. “Think we should give the audience a good show, huh?”

It’s merely a suggestion- you know that you could always find a way to quiet yourself, stuff your mouth with cotton and stifle your moans- but the implication of it makes your toes curl. Your breath rattles in your chest when you inhale. “You… you want everyone in the building to hear you fucking me?”

Eddie crowds you on the bed, your legs still slung over his shoulders so that you’re bent nearly in half. He’s still too fucking clothed for your liking- his leather belt digs into the back of your thighs as he presses a sloppy kiss to your dry lips. “I want everyone here to know you’re mine, sweetheart.”

Your hands cradle his face, pulling him in for a deeper kiss as he slowly lowers your legs from his shoulders. Your over extended legs flop down onto the mattress, and you whine into his mouth as he massages his tongue with yours.

“I’m yours, Eddie,�� you moan against his damp skin. “Oh god, I want it- want everyone to know.”

You take the initiative, with one last kiss turning in his grip. His hand slips, catching himself from toppling off the bed as you scoot onto your stomach, your knees planting on the mattress so that you can wiggle your hips up at him.

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, smoothing a gentle palm over your ass before he kisses your lower back. He pauses, drawing soft kisses up your spine until his breath sweeps your shoulder blade. “You’re so beautiful. How’d I get so fucking lucky?”

A quiet keen is the only answer you give him, shoving your hips backward to get him to just fucking touch you, but he pulls away too quickly. There’s the clink of a belt buckle, a zipper being pulled, and you tense, your hand closing into a fist around the pillow at the head of the bed. Following the rustle of clothes, you hear the crinkle of a condom wrapper- you hadn’t even realized he had one. It didn’t even occur to you, in your dizzying need to fuck him, like some loveblind idiot.

You almost berate yourself for it, but then you feel his cock press against your entrance, and all those thoughts die away. He rolls his hips, and every single muscle in you tightens.

Eddie chokes on air as pleasure positively tears through you. Your eyes roll back, your mouth wide open and threatening to drool onto the pillow you’ve been shoved face-first into.

“F-fuck, you’re so big.” It’s the only thing you can choke out around moans. He splits you so wide, dragging through your slick walls that are still so sensitive from your first orgasm.

“Holy shi- oh my god-” he gasps behind you. “M’so sorry- I can’t- Feels so fucking good-”

You groan, unable to form words to adequately answer him. All you can manage to do is jam your hips backward in an attempt to get him deeper, as far as he can fucking go inside you. Your body blazes, everything coming up smelling of sex and sweat as you wail hopelessly into the pillow.

Eddie snarls, a deep and dangerous noise in the back of his throat as he draws his hips back and presses into you again. There’s no time for you to adjust, each thrust a little more forceful than the last. His cock hits sharp heaven deep inside you, punching loud and guttural moans from you each time his hips impact your ass.

“That’s a good girl- so ffffucking wet, goddamnit,” Eddie praises you through clenched teeth, ringed fingers and bruised knuckles wrapping loosely around your neck to lift your head from the pillow. “Let them hear all those pretty noises for me, baby.”

“Eddie…” You hiccup, your voice kicked up into a shrill whine. You swallow against the press of his fingers on your throat, holding your jaw into the air so there’s no place for your sounds to go but to the wall and through it.

Above your head, the banging on the wall starts back up. Eddie drops your chin and slams his hand on top of the headboard, gripping tightly at plywood that threatens to hit the wall as he ruts into you. Your face hits the pillow again, but your sobbing moans still come out loud and disruptive as Eddie speeds up his hips in retaliation.

“Doing so good f’me. Feel me, princess? So fucking deep,” Eddie groans. His cock licks up a sweet heat inside of you, and you know you’re going to come. He curses lowly, his hips pistoning into yours hard enough that you have to smack your hand into the headboard to keep from knocking into it. “Taking me so well. So perfect- s’like you were made for me, I know it, I just fucking know it…”

Eddie’s arm wraps around your waist from behind, and he hauls your back into his sweat-slick chest. You almost feel weightless, for a moment, before you’re settled back into his lap, your thighs bracketing his as he kneels beneath you, clutching you against him.

A gasp tears from your mouth with a loud, “Shit!” His cock hits a different spot inside you, bursting color behind your closed eyelids as you throw your head back against his shoulder.

Eddie’s breath fans across your neck, sweat-damp hair tickling the side of your face. His hand greedily palms at your breasts, bouncing you in his lap as his tongue traces a wet line along your shoulder.

“Just know you were made for me,” Eddie repeats quietly in your ear, his breath feeling like flames on your neck. “That’s why you found me, baby. You were meant to be mine, my girl.”

His girl.

“Yours, Eddie,” you blubber, reaching back to dig a fist into his hair as his hands squeeze your breasts. “M’all yours.”

“Yeah?” Eddie murmurs, his voice saccharine and velvety. He moans in your ear when your cunt clenches down, a threatening throb at the outskirts of your orgasm. “Say it again.”

A whimper, high and needy in your throat. “I’m yours. Your girl- oh, f-fuck, Eddie- I’m gonna-”

“That’s right. My good girl. Only easy when it comes to me, right?”

Eddie’s hand drags purposefully down, fingernails dragging just through your pubic hair, just barely grazing where you want him- just like you did to him, that first morning. The realization makes you seize up, all tense from head to toe.

“What’s it like, when I do it to you? You like it?” He whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. You suck in a sharp breath, a hiss through your teeth as you nod. His laugh is barely a ghost of a breath on your skin. “Yeah. I did, too.”

Eddie’s voice in your ear says, “Come for me,” and not even a fraction of you would deny him that.

His finger drags slowly your clit, calloused skin catching on the swollen bud, and you come. Your body slumps against him, and you’re so grateful for his arms around you to hold you through it. You’d swear he was splitting you in half with the sounds coming from your mouth. Your head tilted back on his shoulder, every breath is punctuated by a hoarse cry that breaks in your throat. Your hand clamps around his arm, which is still cradling you close to his chest as his own moans ring in your ear, his hips driving up into you as your cunt pulses around his cock. You know that he comes when his teeth wrap around the muscle of your shoulder and bite down.

Silence settles over your sweaty bodies, but thunderous banging is still furiously happening on the other side of the wall. You hear voices, words too muffled by the drywall to be intelligible, but they still sound angry.

Eddie won’t let you go, not yet. He’s clutching you, his mouth still wrapped around your shoulder, even though his teeth aren’t biting anymore. You pet his forearm, and lean forward just enough to knock lightly on the wall.

“We’re done!” Your voice cracks with the effort it takes to call out to the people on the other side.

“Fantastic show, my love. I think we deserve five stars.” Eddie laughs, nuzzling his face into your neck as he finally releases your shoulder from the trappings of his jaw. “I think I’m corrupting you, sweetheart.”

You hum, still petting his arm. “I think you already have, teddy.”

Eddie freezes, his grip on your waist tightening just a little. “No one’s called me that since I was a kid.”

“What, teddy?” He nods. Your fingernails drag dully down his arm, tracing over a tattoo of a swarm of bats, which breaks out in goosebumps under your touch. “Is that… Can I call you that?”

“Yeah,” he rasps. “Yeah, you can- you can call me teddy.”

It’s quiet after that. He rocks you in his arms until you kiss his knuckles and lift yourself gingerly from his lap, earning a pacified grunt from him as his softened cock slides out of you. You watch him as he ties off the condom and tosses it in the wastebasket a few feet away, then flops backward onto the bed so that his head hits the pillows.

You chuckle, sliding forward to run your hands along his stomach. “Honey, you still have your pants on.”

He hadn’t taken them completely off, only pushed them down far enough to free his cock and have at you. What’s more, he still has his boots on, too- big, black motorcycle things that nearly hang off the end of the bed.

Eddie grunts dismissively. “C’n deal with it in the morning.”

“No sleeping with clothes on.”

He huffs petulantly, but the scowl he tries to give you turns into a lovesick grin pretty quick. He tucks his hand behind his head in mock-nonchalance. “Hey, pretty lady. You come here often?”

“Once or twice, so far.” You grin at him as he laughs, rolling your eyes as you move down the bed to finish undressing him. You untie his boots and let them fall with his jeans and boxers onto the floor at the end of the bed, glancing up at him once you’re finished.

His eyes are closed. You don’t think he’s sleeping yet, but he’s flushed, covered in sweat. He’s still so much of an enigma to you, but you adore him. You’re enamored with him.

You crawl slowly up the length of his body, feline-like in your movements. You appraise his tattoos, smoothing your hands over them as you go. You lean down and press featherlight kisses across his beautiful, bruised face.

Eddie cracks his eyes open at you with an inquisitive smirk, just barely puckering his lips to kiss you back when you land one on them. “Feeling me up again, sweetheart?”

You hum, kissing his chest. “You’re hot.” It’s the only explanation you afford him. And once he’s shut his eyes again, you carefully move down his body, peppering kisses across his naked torso.

“What’re you-?” He twitches when you drag your tongue over his cock, still wet and salty with his cum. He groans as you slowly lift it, suckling on the head gently. “Oh… Sweetheart, m’not… I don’t think I can-”

“I’m just cleaning you up, teddy,” you tell him gently. “S’okay. You can go to sleep.”

He hums tiredly, his hand lifting to run through your hair, stroking tenderly against the back of your head. “My girl just can’t keep her hands off, huh?”

“Not a chance,” you tell him, giving him another slow lick. “You’re just too fucking pretty, Eds.”

“And you’re too fuckin’ perfect.” Eddie only really falls asleep after he comes again.

I’m never gonna leave you, baby, even if you lose what’s left of your mind…

A few days later, the car breaks down in Colorado Springs.

It had been acting up for a while, of course. Even though you enjoyed watching Eddie when he was bent over the open hood, bare arms sweaty and streaked with grease in the afternoon heat, you knew it ultimately wasn’t going to end well.

Each time Eddie tinkered with it, more and more concerning things came to light. “One of your cylinders misfired,” he said one time, shaking his head. He’d insisted on driving it from that point on. Another, “The fucking spark plug has gone out. We have to get a new one.” That was $75 you didn’t have to spare.

You guess the car had just fucking had it when you got to Colorado. You went to start it up at a truck stop, and the whole thing just sputtered and coughed at you, and then you didn’t have an engine anymore.

After Eddie paced around and cursed about it for a couple minutes, you both crawled into the back of the van and locked the door. And now you sit cross-legged across from each other, with everything of value that you have to your name in a little pile in front of you.

When you left home, you’d saved up a couple thousand to live off of until you got somewhere you felt comfortable working and living in. Since then, you’ve squandered it on food and motels and gas, never staying put and now rambling along with Eddie.

From the ATM, Eddie had stolen around two thousand dollars. He’s in the same boat as you, now looking at only a couple hundred in between the two of you. Hardly enough to afford a hotel room or bus fare for the both of you. Certainly not enough to get you a new car, or even rent one.

He scrubs his hands down his face, dirty fingernails pressing into his skin. “You should take it.”

“What?” You squint at him.

“There’s enough here for bus fare for you, at least,” Eddie murmurs, his fingers poking at the pile and scooting it toward you. “Getcha where you want to go. Get a nice job at a tourist shop in Vegas or Santa Monica or something.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Eddie?” you snap. You swat his hand away from the pile, looking affronted. “I’m not taking the money, so cut it out. We’ll figure something else out.”

Eddie shakes his head, like he’s already made up his mind. “We had a deal. I fix your car, you take me with you. And I didn’t fix your car.”

“Yeah, but that was before…” you trail off, scrutinizing his expression. He won’t meet your gaze. He won’t look at you.

Eddie’s mouth opens and closes like he’s a fish out of water. Then, he says bitingly, “Before we fucked?”

You can feel all the emotion drain from your face, leaving you a blank, hollow screen with dead eyes just staring at him. It’s your best defense against bursting into tears at the very tone of his voice.

When he glances at you, you can tell that he wants to take it back immediately. His teeth worry his bottom lip, ripping at chapped shreds of skin. “Don’t do me any favors, sweetheart.”

“It’s not a fucking favor- I thought we were doing this together.”

Eddie talks over you. “You don’t need to keep dragging me around with you, okay? You’re off the hook.”

“Eddie, you’re being mean,” you croak at him. Not exactly the quick, biting wit that you can usually whip out- he’s shocked you.

He drops his eyes, his hands squeezing his knees. “Yeeeah,” he grumbles, his fingers tapping sporadically against his denim jeans. “Well, I told you, I’m no good for you. You didn’t listen.”

You told me that while your tongue was in my pussy. The words are balanced on the edge of your teeth, but they won’t fall out. Your hands itch to reach out for him, grab his chin and force him to look at you, somehow.

Instead, they snatch up the little bit of cash from your side of the pile in between you. You crumple it in your hand and shove the wad into your jacket pocket before you grab the strap of your weather-beaten backpack full of the last things you have to your name, and kick open the back door of the van.

It’s summer, but it’s windy in Colorado. It must be something about the mountains, you guess, and it being early morning. Condensation hangs in the air, making the air both heavy and cool as you breathe. Funny- if you slept naked, you’d probably have to curl up into each other for warmth, for a change.

You’re either vibrating from rage or from the abnormal chill in the air. Standing on the street corner with the gas station sign lit up in neon behind you, you kick the crosswalk pole with your dirty converse. You’re still arguing with him, in your head. We were in this together, motherfucker. I told you, I’m your girl. I put all my eggs in your basket. Whatever fucking martyr complex this is, you can shove it right up your stupid-

“I know.” Eddie’s tattooed arms wrap around your waist and pull you into his chest, his face buried in your hair as he whispers urgently into it. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

So, you weren’t arguing with him in your head. You were actually yelling everything you were thinking, and he chased you as you stormed off. Seems about par for the course.

“Fuck you, Eddie, did it even mean anything to you?” you blather at him, your voice thick with impending tears. “‘Cause it meant something to me.”

“Course it did,” he rasps at you, his arms squeezing you to him so tight that you’re running out of air to breathe. “I didn’t- I was being shitty. I’m sorry. Please, don’t leave.”

“Then don’t push me away.” The tears collect in your lashes, finally dripping down your cheeks. You turn in his arms and whack your hand flat against his chest. “Don’t treat me like some slut, don’t- I didn’t sleep with you just because I wanted you to fix my fucking car, you jerk.”

“I don’t think that,” Eddie insists quietly, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. “C’mon, now.”

“You said-”

“I know what I said,” he cuts you off. “And I didn’t mean it. I have a bad habit of throwing away the good things in my life, ‘cause… ‘cause of that martyr complex, you said-” He jams his tongue against the roof of his mouth when you hiccup, staring up at him with a wobbly lip. “Don’t let me throw you away. You’re the best thing I’ve ever had, ‘n I don’t wanna lose you just because I’m an idiot.”

You sigh, your head falling neatly into the crook of his neck like it’s meant to be there. He’s too quiet, holding you against him at the street corner. Eddie breathes in deep and kisses the side of your head longingly.

“I can get us a car.”

You lift your head to look at him. He wears a disappointed expression. “But we don’t have any money.”

“It won’t take money,” Eddie mumbles as he strokes your back. “I, uh… I didn’t want to end up like my old man, but…” he shrugs, his eyes cast away from you. He chuckles sadly. “Nothin’ I can do about that, now, I guess. I mean, look how you met me.”

Oh. You can infer what he means by the far-off look on his face, like he’s resigned himself to his fate. You lift your hands to cradle his face; the bruise on his cheekbone has faded to yellow, the scab on his chin almost healed. He’s never looked more beautiful to you.

“You’re a good man, Eddie,” you tell him sternly.

Eddie’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t be too sure of that. You might change your mind.”

‘Cause you know I’ll be right there beside you, riding through all these western nights…

The sedan isn’t exactly flashy, or new. It’s a tin can on wheels that’ll crumble into bits if you so much as side-swipe a trash can. You keep a lookout as Eddie jimmies an unwound wire coat hanger between the glass window and the door, and a second later the door is unlocked.

You’re unnervingly calm. How did you get to be so calm about all this? Stealing money, driving getaway cars, stealing other cars when those ones don’t work. Suddenly an accomplice to whatever illegal shit has to happen for you to get where you’re going.

What’s worse, you think, is how badly the sight of him hotwiring the car turns you on. It’s practically horrifying the way your skin crawls and your core burns as you watch his hands fiddle with the wires beneath the console, so quick that your mind can barely process it. You’re not sure if the adrenaline in your veins is from looking to see if anyone’s coming, or if it’s because you want to jump his bones.

"I swear to you," he's saying as he swipes at frayed wires, "I swear, when we get to San Francisco, I'll never- I'm gonna get an honest, real fuckin' job, I'm not gonna do anything to hurt yo-"

The car starts, and you leap into the front seat without giving it any more thought. “Eddie?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He looks up at you, his brows tilted up expectantly. He’s still tucking wires back under the dashboard, preparing to take off once he gets the door shut.

“I slept with you because I’m falling in love with you.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide as moons, glittering in the light of a fluorescent floodlight at the corner of the dark parking lot.

“You don’t have to love me back,” you tell him honestly. “I just wanted you to know. I’m with you. And I’m not gonna leave.”

You don’t know if he loves you back- not yet, anyways. He doesn’t say it to you. But he kisses you like he does.

I'll be screaming your name past the gas stations, trailing down the interstate. Please don’t love how I need you, and know that one day, you and I could be okay.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #roses*

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kriimhild · 2 months

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Moon helps the city under cover, just like a real superhero should! And Sun is Joker&Dr.Horrible as Moon's nemesis! It's an enemies to lovers :D

Details: Moon bears resemblance to Batman, but not as gloomy. He goes by the name Drop as a superhero, and has an adopted daughter named Amy. Moon often visits the police station due to his work, having a direct business relationship with the police chief, Eclipse. Amy frequently accompanies her father to the police and usually just hangs out with the other colleagues while her father and the police chief converse.

Moon is a great father, but inept in romantic relationships, and has never been able to keep anyone for long. Having had no luck so far, he has given up on having someone else in his life. He used to be an assassin, but when he amassed enough money, he quit. He hates crime, but blood on his hands even more. When he adopted Amy, he swore to himself that he wouldn't kill anyone else.

Dr. Sun, or as the world knows him, Dr. Rise, is a graduated genius. Sun grew tired of humanity being trapped in the clutches of capitalism while slowly destroying the forests around it. Sun wants to create creatures by crossbreeding humans and plants that will find a balance between the two species. He was once very passionate about his work, but the truth is, he is incredibly burnt out and only does what he does for the sake of attention. He's incredibly lonely, avoided by everyone because of his bad reputation. The only entertaining thing in his life is Moon, who prevents him from hitting rock bottom. After every battle, he becomes so angry that he comes up with new ideas. His plan is to save humanity and defeat Drop.

At least, that's the current concept. To be honest, I was afraid to post this idea because lately I've seen a lot of similar designs to Sun's, and I didn't want any trouble from it. I'm not sure if there's still a superhero AU in the DCA fandom, but if there is, please let me know or reach out if your a creator :D Sorry if there's already a similar concept; I've been thinking about this AU for a few months ^^ it's not going to be a long story as i plan

#fnaf superhero au #fnafmoondrop #fnafsundrop #fnaf

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the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 8 months

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#379

“Hey Ryan. I’m hearing all over town that your Pa found out that you are a faggot…. Don’t walk away from me boy! This ain’t some trap. I have no problem with you being a sperm burper. Look, your Pa was going to throw you out of your house. He was going to come by to pick you up from work and take you to the bus station and leave you with a hundred bucks. I talked him out of that. Now get your ass over here.

“Do you recognize me?... Kinda? I work for the same company as your Pa. We don’t interact with each other too much in what we do, maybe once or twice a month. But today at lunch he was asked by John Gilbert about you, and he got pissed. He was telling everyone there that he found you giving head to a guy from out of town, and that he was going to kick you out.

“When everyone sympathized with him and went on their way, I went up to him and told him that I can take help him with his problem. He looked at me funny… kinda how you are looking at me now.

“Faggot, we may not have interacted other than a glance or two in town or when you would drop in to see your Pa. I’ve known that you have been sucking dick for a few years now.

“Oh yeah. You know that man you were blowing when your Pa saw you? He’s a good bud of mine. When Russ comes through town, we usually hang together. I know he connects with you and has been for a few years. He tells me all about how he’ll tie you up, sit on your face, and smack you around before pile driving into your cunt. This visit, he barely had time to say hi to me and to get that infamous blow job from you.

“So yeah, I know about you and your predicament. Russ was telling me you are a major horndog. I can easily tell that by the sizeable bulge in your pants, your mouth hanging open, and you can’t stop staring at my chest. So you like what you see?...

“Of course, you do. I like that you instinctively address me as ‘Sir.’ Russ also mentioned your natural propensity to submitting to assertive men. Get closer. Go on, if you want to touch my chest go ahead.

“Atta boy. You are going to see a lot of my chest. Lick my nipples. You will find out that my tits are hard wired to my cock. Oh yeah! That feels good. I’m going to train you on how to worship my tits to give me the most pleasure.

“But first, get out of your work clothes. I want to see my new toys. Don’t fucking hesitate. I waited for everyone to leave; so no one is around. Don’t make me repeat myself…. Good. You can expect to be naked back at my farm all the time.

“Damn, you are big. Great muscles. You are definitely one of the cornfed beefy boys around here, not like the nelly fag property I get in Denver or Dallas. How tall are you? 6’3” and 275 pounds? Damn boy, how big is that dick? Eight inches? Thought so. Turn around and grab your ankles…. Oooh beautiful beefy ass. And look at that cunt. That cunt gets used doesn’t it?

“Besides Russ, who has been in here?...

“Russ can’t be the only one. There have to be other men to make those lips that puffy.… You use dildoes?... I knew it! You fucking horn dog. It’s hard to believe that this ass hasn’t been taken by other men, but then again we are six hours from Denver and six from Kansas City and you don’t have a vehicle.

“Stand up. When I heard your Pa talking shit about you today, I knew I had to own you thinking that you would require a lot of training. But you seem to have what I’ve been looking for, for a long time.

“I told your Pa that I would take you off his hands. As I said, he looked at me kinda strange. I told him that I would take you to my ranch and he won’t see you again, other than some casual passing by in town. He was going to tell me to fuck off, until I offered him some cash. If he took it, he knows he can’t make any waves. He thought about it and took the money. I told him that he needs to be gone from his home tomorrow, so we’ll get your shit out of his place.

“Yeah, I bought you. I don’t have boyfriends or lovers, I have property—always have. It makes ending the relationship easier when I get bored. But I think with you, you are going to last a while. I haven’t had a big beefy bitch boy before.

“Russ was right, I am going to enjoy using you. I did talk with him earlier today and asked if I could take you on. It didn’t feel right not to ask him as he found you first. He was fine with that as long as he gets to use you when he comes through town. That’s fine with me. He told me that you love to eat his ass once he showed you how to do it, that you beg him every time to tongue fuck him. That’s good because every morning, I set up my morning coffee on my deck. My property crawls underneath my custom-made rim chair and slurps on my shithole while I begin my day. And it is a full rimjob, not just licking on the surface.

“Look at your dick, you are leaking more than I have ever seen before by a faggot…. That’s a fucking beautiful sight. You want all this from me, don’t you?... Of course you do. Russ wasn’t giving me the full picture of you. He says you are a multiple cummer. I’d like to see that. In fact, get up in the bed of my truck.

“Damn, you look good up there. Step forward. I want to inspect that cock…. It’s like steel. This pre-cum of yours is amazing. Damn! I completely missed the size of your balls. They are huge…. You are every inch the bull Russ described. Let’s get these things drained.

“Over there under that tarp you will find my portable rimseat. You should also see some wrist and ankle cuffs. Put the cuffs on first. You will be secured on the drive home. All property is treated as cargo….

“Lie down with your head under the rim seat and start jacking off. Extend your legs to the corners…. A couple D clips and your legs are secure to the truck.

“I see you jack off left-handed. Give me your right…. That’s secured too. After you shoot, I’ll take care of the left.

“OK faggot. You are the first property I have encountered who hasn’t put up much resistance to becoming owned. I find that very intriguing.

“Cum for me. Shoot it all over your chest. I want to see the size of your load. I usually lock up my property’s peckers, but not yours. I have no desire to do that. I want that thing used often. The thing is that I want to know now how fast you recover.

“You are really going to town. Those balls are flopping all over the place. Here. Look up at me. You look natural under that rim seat. Normally I prefer property lying behind me for the ass eating, but for now, I want to watch you cum.

“Here comes my shithole. It is always to be referred to as such. Sticking your tongue deep inside. Oh fuck! Does that feel wonderful.

“Jesus! You are going to cum already? Go for it! Shoot that fucking load!... Holy shit!... That’s fucking amazing…. Oh shit, it keeps on cumming.

“Keep eating my shithole with the same energy you had a minute ago. Don’t stop eating it until I tell you. Give me your left hand. Gonna finish securing you to the truck.

“Your dick is still dribbling out cum. When was the last time you came? …This morning? And you produced that load. Jesus Christ. Normally I put a cock cage on my property, but there is no way I’m going to, or want to, restrain that beast.

“And those balls! I also castrate my property and replace what they had with fake balls twice the original size. Even those fake ones don’t compare to yours. I may check into augmenting your dick to keep it perpetually hard. I liked that idea. I will turn you into a mindless bull. I’ll take you to Denver or Dallas and watch you destroy fag after fag.

“The one thing I don’t like are your pubes. You are mostly smooth. You will look even bigger without that hair. I’ll have it removed. Until then…. Pubes yank out so nicely…. Faggot this isn’t going to be all fucking and jacking off for me. Property needs to know pain.

“It’s been a long time since I have done something new. When we get home, I’m going to fuck you good. But that’s after I see your next load and see if it matches this one in size. That’ll be the lube I use. After I dump in you, I’ll install you on the dildo machine.

“Oooh. Your tongue likes the thought of that. Do that again. Oh man! I’m going to give you an hour to continue to worship my shithole before we head home. When we get there, I’ll untie you from the truck’s bed.

“But until then, it’s going to be a nice day. I’m getting my shithole eaten by my newest property. I have a fresh bush to yank out one tuft after another to pass the time. Life doesn’t get any better than this.”

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reputationmunson · 1 year

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Crossing Lines | S.H x fem!reader

part one | part two | part 3 | part 4

series summary: Steve isn’t your biggest fan, so why does he ask you to be his date to a wedding? | enemies to lovers, fake dating

chapter summary: time to meet the family!

content: you and steve go shopping, meeting his family, mentions of drinking, food mention, swearing, she/her pronouns, use of y/n, a little surprise at the end ;)

word count: 4.7k

The piercing ring of the phone wakes Steve from his deep sleep and putting a pillow over his head doesn’t drown out the sound even a little bit. He begrudgingly throws his blanket and grumbles obscenities until he reaches the phone.

“Hello?” he answers with an abrasive tone. “Good morning to you too, sunshine” your voice sounds way too happy for someone who’s awake this early. “y/n? Why the hell are you calling me this early?”

“Do you always talk to your girlfriends like this? No wonder you’re still single.’’ you tease and he lets out an overdramatic, loud sigh. “Get to the point it’s too early for this”

“It’s almost ten in the morning that isn’t exactly the break of dawn, but anyways, I need to know if you work today”

“Yeah, I do” he lies. “Liar! I already asked Robin and she told me that you’re off today” he can practically hear your ‘know-it-all-’ smirk over the phone. “I’m five seconds away from hanging up”

“Okay, okay, don’t get your panties in a twist. We need to go shopping today” you tell him and he scoffs at your words “We? Why do I need to go?”

“You said all expenses paid and I need new clothes for our couples getaway, therefore, you’re going shopping with me”

“It’s not a couple’s gateway” is all he says. “That’s all semantics, Stevie”

“Do you even know what semantics means?” he asks “do you?” you reply, turning the tables. His lips purse while he tries to thinks of an answer. He’s got nothing. “Whatever. I’ll pick you up in an hour” he hands up before giving you a chance to gloat.

Steve shows up to your house an hour and a half later and he expects nothing less than you reprimanding him for it. You walk outside wearing a dress that might be a bad idea for a breezy day like today, but it’s still a pretty dress. He tells himself that only the dress looks pretty, not the person wearing it. Your sparkly lip gloss that anyone from a mile away can see, looks pretty too, but not because it’s on your lips. He can just appreciate a nice gloss, that’s it.

“Thirty minutes late, mister. That isn’t very ‘boyfriend’ of you” you say as soon as you get into the car. “How about a ‘thank you’ for picking you up? That isn’t very ‘girlfriend’ of you” he rebuttals.

“Hush, I’m the perfect girlfriend. Can I play some music?” you ask and he turns the radio on. “Oh, I love this song!” you cheer when you change the station and ‘We Belong’ by Pat Benatar comes on. “Of course you do” he says and you roll your eyes at him while turning up the radio. In all honesty, he likes this song, but he’ll never admit that out loud.

You sing every word, not too loudly, but loud enough that Steve can hear. Your singing isn’t horrible, but he knows every time he hears this song he’s going to associate it with you. “Why are you always so grouchy? You constantly have a look on your face like someone put salt in your sugar shaker”

“Thanks for putting off your concert long enough to ask me that” he turns the radio down until there's almost no music and you turn it back up a smidge. “See! You’re a total butthead” you argue. “Butthead? Are we five?”

“That’s such a butthead response”

“Then how about we don’t talk for the rest of the car ride? Kay?” he impolitely suggests and you cross your arms. “Fine”

“Fine”

So you sit in silence for the rest of the time you’re in the car, aside from your soft singing. It drives Steve insane.

The mall was quite busy for a Tuesday and it takes Steve three loops around the parking lot to find a decent spot.

“I told you to just park in the back. We could’ve saved so much time”

“What did I say about not talking while we’re in the car?” he asks, rhetorically. You quickly step out of the car and repeat yourself “I told you to just park in the back. We could’ve saved so much time. I’m not in the car, so you can’t get mad at me! C’mon, let's go!”

Steve sighs before taking the keys out of the ignition and following behind you. Once you reach the entrance you hold your hand out to him. He looks down at your hand and back up at you “What’s that?”

“It’s a hand, Steve. Ya know, most people have one attached to the end of their arm and-”

“What do you want me to do with your hand, smartass’’ he cuts you off. “We’re supposed to be getting used to acting like a couple, so hold my hand” your hand is still held out and you shake it in front of him. “Nope. No way” he pushes your hand but you reach it out again. “Stop being a butthead, yes I said it again because you’re acting like a five year old”

He reluctantly takes your hand and your fingers lace together. “Wow, look at that. You didn’t even burst into flames” you taunt. He doesn’t hate it as much as he thought it would. Your hands are soft and he notices that your nails match the color of your dress. It’s kind of cute.

Steve tries to shield his face with his hand and you laugh at him. “That’s not gonna work. People come from all over to see that head of hair, so they’ll be able to tell that it’s you holding my hand. I hope you’ll be able to survive this tragic event”

He removes his hand from his face “People do not come from all over just to see my hair.” he grumbles. “It’s called a joke, Steve. Since I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile whenever I’m around then I shouldn’t be surprised you didn’t know that”

“Let’s just get this over with. Where are we going first?” you drag him to the first store and Steve is convinced everyone is staring at him while he holds your hand. (literally no one is giving either of you a second glance).

“Hold this for me, baby” you hand him a sundress and he grimaces at the nickname “Is holding hands not enough? You gotta call me ‘baby’ too?” he complains. “Get used to it, baby”

After only ten minutes in the store, Steve has a stack of clothes piled in his arms. “Are you really buying all of this?” he asks. “I’m not buying anything, you are, but I have to try it on first and you have to give me your opinion”

“My opinion is that you’re going to look horrible in all of it”

“You say that now, but you’ve never seen me in this shade of pink” you point to one of the dresses in his hand that isn’t holding yours. “I’ve seen you in every shade of every color. Your closet looks like a box of crayons exploded”

“You remember what colors I have in my wardrobe? Sounds like you’re a bit obsessed with me”

“In your dreams…babe? Ugh that sounded weird. Can you try this shit on now? My arm is about to fall off” He whines. “Yeah, I wouldn't want you to break a nail. Wait outside the dressing room so I can show you how it looks” you tell him. “Can’t wait” he replies, sarcasm dripping from his tongue.

Steve checks his watch every thirty seconds because how long does it take to try on one dress?

“Spend your whole life waitin’ on your woman, don’t ya?” an older gentleman asks him. “Uh, yeah. I guess so” chuckles. “My wife, Ethel, over there” he points in the direction of where his wife stands “always takes her sweet time. After forty years of marriage I’m still always waitin’ on her, but she still looks so damn beautiful that it’s worth it”

“Harold, leave the poor boy alone, honey” His wife says when she wanders over to her husband. “No, I don’t mind. I’m just waiting for my girl to show me her new dress” Steve says. He said ‘my girl’ so naturally he didn’t even realize it until he finished his sentence.

“Steve, what do you think- oh, hi!” you greet the couple and introduce yourself. “That’s a beautiful dress, don’t ya think Steve?” Harold asks him. “y-yeah. You look great, sweetheart” he smiles. You do look great. The color of the dress compliments your skin tone perfectly and makes your eyes pop.

“How long have you two been together?” Ethel asks. “Five months” you both say at the same time. “Oh, young love. It’s truly a wonderful thing. I feel like I’m looking in a mirror from forty years ago” She expresses and puts her hand over her heart. “We’ll let you kids get back to it. Enjoy the rest of your day” Harold says. “Thank you, you too!” you respond before they walk away.

“So, um, tell me what you really thing about this dress”

“I think it looks great” he replies. “Really? No snarky comment? Did that old couple make you go all soft on me, Harrington?”

“Not in a million years. Go try the other shit on I don’t wanna be here all day” he carps. “Okay, I’m going, but don’t fall in love with me after seeing how good I look in this next one!” yeah, right he thinks.

After a fashion show and a dent in his bank account, you finally leave the store. Most of your outfits were casual, but cute and preppy enough to impress his family. You even found a dress to wear to the wedding. “I have to get a new bathing suit. Or three new bathing suits” you announce as you walk past a store with all the summer essentials. “Three? For what reason?”

“You said your family members are all staying in lake houses and I need to be prepared. I’m also assuming this fancy hotel we’re staying in has a pool” you explain. “Oh, and how come we aren’t staying in a lake house?” you wonder. “My parents weren’t gonna rent a house for just me. I even told them I was bringing my “girlfriend”, but we’re still staying in a hotel twenty minutes away from everyone” he answers. “Oh no, we’re staying in an expensive hotel with all the amenities we could ever need. Should I bring a survival kit?” you gibe.

“Just go get your swimsuits and don’t make me watch you model them” he pleads. “Why? Scared you’ll like what you see?” Yes, he thinks to himself. “Nope. Just starving. I’m gonna go grab something from the food court” he says before scurrying off.

“Hey, can I get two soft pretzels and two lemonades, please?”

“Steve Harrington?” He hears a woman's voice and turns around. “It’s me! Beth!”

“Beth, hi!” He greets. Steve went on a date with Beth a few months ago and she never called him back. He actually really liked her, too. Until she ditched him for her new boyfriend.

“How are you? Hungry?” She asks when she she's the two pretzels and drinks in his hand. “Oh, um, ones for me and ones for my… girlfriend. She’s shopping right now- oh look, there she is! Baby, I’m over here!” he waves to get your attention.

“Aw, you got me something? You’re so sweet, Stevie” you kiss his cheek and it takes everything in him to not act weirded out. “Babe, this is Beth. Beth this is my girl, y/n”

“Nice to meet you, y/n. It was good to see you, Steve” she says and saunters off. “Did you really have to kiss my cheek?” he wipes your lipgloss off of his face. “Give me a soft pretzel and I’ll do just about anything”

“Gross” he mutters, “Are you done shopping yet?” he groans. “Yes, I’m done. Thanks again for the pretzel. That was actually really nice” you smile at him. “Don’t thank me yet. I poisoned it” he jokes and you chuckle. “Thank god. Then I wouldn’t have to spend three whole days with you”

“Well, actually, we have to go up thursday” he tells you and you stop in your tracks. “Thursday? That's in two days and I have so much to do!” you exclaim. “You’ll just have to get it done a day early. It’s the least you can do after I bought you this pretzel”

“You’re impossible”

“And you’re welcome for the delicious treat and all the clothes”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just take me home, please”

“Gladly”

By the time Thursday rolls around, you’re already exhausted from this weekend before it’s even started. You spent your entire day yesterday doing laundry, going to the store for travel things, packing, and mentally preparing yourself for being Steve’s “girlfriend”.

It wasn’t that pretending to be his significant other was going to be the worst thing in the world. He’s attractive and you’ve heard his personality is alright, you’ve just yet to meet that version of Steve, but you worried it would be awkward.

There’s no way you have any amount of chemistry with Steve that makes it convincing that you two are in love. He scowls at any pet name you give him, he practically freezes any time you touch him, and you’re pretty sure he’d slip into a coma if he was actually nice to you.

The sound of Steve honking his horn pulls you from your anxious thoughts. He can’t even come up and knock on your door. God forbid he helps you carry any of your luggage. He did pop the trunk for you, though, so that’s something at least.

“Is your arm broken?” you ask, sitting down in the passenger seat. “No?” he replies, confused. “I just figured since you didn’t help me carry a single thing that-”

“You’re bitching already? It hasn’t even been five minutes that must be a new record”

“your hair looks flat today” you insult and he glares at you “you do know i have traits other than my hair, right?”

“yeah, I know. just don’t care enough, is all” you state, looking at your manicure like his existence is irrelevant to you. “Right, okay. Let’s just not kill each other until we get there”

“Only if you promise to buy me snacks at the gas station” you bargain “Fine. Whatever you want”

You fell asleep halfway through the car ride and have woken up once. For some reason, Steve can’t stop himself from glancing over you. Your head is resting on the window, your lips are slightly parted, and if he didn’t already know you, he’d think you actually look kind of sweet.

“Hey” he whispers and gently shakes your shoulder to wake you up. You grunt in response and he shakes your shoulder a little more. “Wake up, we’re almost at my parents lake house” he says and you jolt awake. “We’re stopping there first? I’m not prepared for that!” you exclaim and flip down the visor mirror to make yourself look presentable.

“They said they have a surprise for us and they’re looking forward to meeting you. It’ll be fine” he puts his hand on your thigh for a split second then quickly pulls it back. “And here we are” he announces when he pulls into the driveway. It’s more of a lake mansion than a lake house, but you didn’t expect anything less. Steve opens the passenger side door for you just in case anyone is watching. He can tell you’re nervous about meeting his parents. You’ve been fiddling with the hem of your top and the look on your face isn’t exactly hiding any of your emotions.

Steve grabs your hand and you’re taken by surprise. He’s touching you without acting like there’s a gun to his head. “Ready to meet the parents?” he asks, giving your hand a squeeze “As ready as I’ll ever be”

He knocks on the door and your leg bounces, anxiously. “Hey, stop worrying. They’ll love you. Most people think you’re great. Apart from me, obviously” he jests and you snicker. You know it isn’t a big deal if his parents don’t like you. You two aren’t actually together and there's a high chance you’ll never see them again, but you have this irritating need for people’s approval. Which is a bit ironic considering your hand is currently being held by the one person who has a huge issue with you.

“Steve, honey! We’re so glad you’re here!” his mom exclaims before hugging him. “You must be y/n! It’s so nice to meet you!” she hugs you next. “It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Harrington”

“Oh, please, call me Joanne. Come in, I’ll get your father. George, Steve and his girlfriend are here!” she shouts when you all walk inside.

Steves’ father emerges from the back porch of the house and it’s like Steve twenty-five years from now walked in from the future. “Now, what’s someone as pretty as you doing with my son? Did you pay her Steve?” he jokes, but he has no idea how close he is to being correct. “Thanks, dad, good to see you too.” Steve grumbles. “Don’t get too upset, I know how sensitive you can be. I’m George, it’s a pleasure to meet you” he extends his hand and you shake it. “It’s great to meet you. I’m y/n”

“You’re much nicer than most girls my son dates. There was one girl-”

“Anyways, mom said you had a surprise for us” Steve interrupts his dad. “Yes, we do!” his mom says and hands Steve a key. “What’s this?” he asks as he holds the key. “Well, your father and I thought it might be romantic if you two had your own house and you’d be much closer to the family. It’s just right up the road and we cancelled your hotel reservation.”

“That’s so kind of you, Mrs. Harr- Joanne. You didn’t have to do that” you thank her and she beams at your appreciation. “Honey, we’re just so grateful that Steve has found someone that he clearly loves. You should’ve heard how he spoke about you on the phone” She tells you and Steve’s face turns beet red when you turn to look at him. “Uh, yeah, thank you. We should probably go check this out, yeah?’’ he asks and you nod.

“Once you freshen up, don’t forget we’re having dinner here tonight!” Joanne reminds the both of you before saying your goodbyes. Your nerves come back when you think about meeting the rest of his family.

“So… what did you say about me on the phone?” you ask once you both step outside. “I don’t even remember. I didn’t really say much” he lies, but he doesn’t want you to know just in case you get the wrong impression that he might not dislike you as much as you think he does. “Keep your secrets, then. Let's go check out our house!” you squeal and run to the car.

“Oh my gosh, it’s so cute!” you say as you pull into the driveway. The house is smaller than the others, but the ideal size for two people. There’s a porch that overlooks the lake with two rocking chairs and a coffee table. It’s perfect for watching the sun rise and set.

It does make you a little sad that if you weren’t here, Steve would be all alone in a hotel while the rest of his family was within walking distance. Why wouldn’t he stay with his parents? or another family member? “Did you hear me?” he asks, bringing you back from all the questioning going on in your mind.“No, sorry. What did ya say?”

“I asked if you’re ready to go inside. I’ll help you with your bags this time”

“Yeah, thanks.” you grin and get out of the car.

The inside of the house is as beautiful as the outside. It’s cozy and inviting. If Steve was your boyfriend, it would be very romantic. “So, only one bedroom I suppose,” Steve speaks up. “I’ll take the couch” he volunteers.

“Steve, I can already tell you’re too tall for that couch. I’ll take it”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind”

“Or we could be adults and share the bed? It’s big enough that you won’t even come close to touching me” you assure him. “If you wanted to sleep next to me, all you had to do was ask” he smirks and your nose scrunches in disgust. “Shut up, I’m trying to be nice to you”

“Let’s unpack before we have to go to dinner. Are you nervous about meeting everyone else?” he asks as you throw your luggage on the bed so you can unpack your bags. “Yeah, I guess. Is there anything I should know?” you question. “Not really. My parents seemed to like you, so they’ve probably already put in a good word.”

The rest of the time you spend unpacking and getting ready is spent in silence. It isn’t either an awkward or comfortable silence. It’s like neither of you are there, not acknowledging each other unless absolutely necessary.

You and Steve decide to walk to his parents since it’s such a pleasant evening. The sound of the lake is peaceful and the moonlight illuminates your surroundings so perfectly that it makes the street lamps needless. “It really is lovely out here” you say and Steve hums in agreement. “Are you nervous, Steve? About seeing your family? You ask and he lets out a sigh that he’s been holding in for a while. “Kind of, but they’re probably gonna be more focused on you”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you offer and he shakes his head. “Nah, that’s alright. We’re almost there anyway” When you walk through the door of the house, Steve places his hand on the small of your back. Only for appearances, clearly. “We’re here” he announces and his family comes over to greet you.

“You must be y/n! I’m Linda, Steve’s aunt. We’ve heard many great things about you!” You make your way through all introductions followed by a million it’s nice to meet you too’s. His family is bigger than you expected and you can definitely tell that they have money just by looking at them.

You’re finally offered a glass of wine and happily accept. “Here, Steve, it’s an old-fashioned. The real man's drink” His father hands him a glass and he has to stop himself from chugging it.

“We are all dying to know how you two met” Steve’s aunt says to you once you and Steve are in the kitchen. It seems like everyone is gathered in the kitchen to hear the story. Steve looks a little lost so you decide you’ll take the lead on this one.

“Well, we met through mutual friends and Steve was terrible at attempting to flirt with me. I thought he was just so cute and one night I got stood up on a blind date and Steve came to my rescue and the rest is history” you wrap your arm around his back and his arm wraps around your shoulder. He can’t believe how quickly you came up with that. Your story is met with many ‘aws’ and Steve mouths a ‘thank you’ when no one is looking.

“I like your dress’’ you hear a small voice come from behind you and you turn around to see the most adorable toddler with pigtails. “Thank you, sweetie. I like your hair” you bend down to eye level with her. “I’m y/n. What’s your name?”. “Penelope. I’m this many” She holds up three fingers and you smile. “Do y’wanna color with me?” she asks and you follow her to the table she was coloring at.

“Are you married to Steve?”

“Nope, not married, but I am his girlfriend” it still feels weird to say that. “Okay. You can use my crayons”

Steve watched this interaction from the kitchen. He thinks the drink is already starting to go to his head because he thinks it's absolutely adorable. You’re a natural with kids and with his family. He can’t tell if it’s all part of the act or if you are actually this amazing.

Dinner goes smoothly with the help of several alcoholic beverages. Steve’s hand has been on your thigh throughout the entire meal and he didn’t act bothered by it at all. Maybe his acting skills aren’t so abysmal after all.

“Can I help you wash up?” you ask his mom as she cleans up the kitchen. “That would be wonderful, dear.”

“Penelope adores you, by the way. She’s always been a little shy and she warmed up to you just like that.” She tells you. “She’s a sweet kid. I was like that when I was younger. Shy, I mean. Guess I still am” a small chuckle escapes your throat. “Well, no worries about that. The family loves you” She assures you and you give her a kind smile.

“Ready to go, babe?” Steve asks you. “Go on, I’ll make George help with cleanup” His mom hugs you both and his hand holds yours as you say your goodbyes to everyone.

“That wine got to me, I think. I feel all warm and fuzzy” you say with a giggle. Steve still hasn’t let go of your hand even though you're halfway back to the house by now. “I know what you mean. You were great, by the way. Pretty sure they’re convinced we’re in love.”

“Wow, you’re complimenting me? You must definitely be tipsy” you laugh. “And you’re still holding my hand so you’re absolutely toasted” he quips. “m’not. I just might fall over if you let go” so he doesn’t let go, not until you’re both inside the bedroom.

Once you both climb into bed, there’s more than a respectable distance between you and Steve. For some reason, a strange thought crosses your mind and you have the biggest urge to bring it up. “Hey, Steve?”

“Hm?”

“I thought of something we haven’t practiced yet and it’s kinda weird, but hear me out”

“Okay…I’m listening” he says, sounding a little suspicious. “Do you think it’ll be weird if we don’t kiss? Nothing crazy just a couple pecks here and there” he sits up and turns on the bedside table lamp. “You wanna makeout in front of my family?”

“No! Of course not. I said peck” he doesn’t respond and you’ve never felt more embarrassed in your life.

“Okay. Yeah, we probably should practice it. Ya know, just to be convincing” he finally speaks up. “Yeah. Just to be convincing.” you both sit up and scoot closer to each other. “Wait! Can you turn off the light?” you request and he quickly turns off the light.

You feel Steve’s hand resting on your cheek and your heart thumps in your chest out of nerves, not anything else, that’s for sure. “Ready?” he asks “Ready”

His lips brush yours and linger for a few seconds before he places his lips on yours in a proper kiss. It’s a simple kiss. There’s no tongue, obviously, and it feels like it’s over before it's even started.

“Wait, sorry. Let me try again” he says. He kisses you again and it’s still simple, but this time your lips move together in a harmonious agreement. His body moves closer to yours and you feel yourself slipping away, like you’ve forgotten that you’re kissing Steve Harrington. Someone that you aren’t supposed to be kissing.

He pulls back as he feels that the kiss might grow more intense. You’re left breathless and stunned, but Steve doesn’t seem to be as affected as you are, but he is. His palms are sweaty and his heart feels like it might jump out of his throat. He nonchalantly rolls over back to his side while you stay in the same position, staring at his silhouette.

“Goodnight, y/n”

“y-yeah, goodnight”

a/n: IT’LL GET JUCIER SOON I PROMISE

taglist: @freezaz123 @lovelyimpossibleobservation @johnricharddeacy @mjtalksaboutanything @nix-rose-q @eternallyvenus (i hope i didn't miss anyone!)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington series #steve harrington enemies to lovers #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things fic

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sungbeam · 4 months

Text

nonidol!kim younghoon x f!reader

neither you nor younghoon were party people, but you did find love in the convenience store down the block.

▷ genre, warnings. friends 2 lovers, mutual pining, college au, swearing, fluff, humor, comfort, reader has crowd anxiety, reader has a lot of siblings lol, mentions of math/physics/chemistry/etc sorry it was necessary for the character, kissing, puns and pick-up lines, mentions of academic stress, lots of carbs haha, drinking, guys younghoon was my first bias and im remembering why

▷ total wc. 29.3k (TUMBLR MADE ME CUT OUT SO MUCH I FKN HATE THIS HELLSITE)

this is the seventh installment of the love in unity series! this should be fine as a standalone, but there are multiple references to party people & i highly encourage u to read it!; all other yns will be referred to as _!yn. (ayc occurs DURING party people)

a/n: in an alternate world, i would still be obsessed w kim younghoon, isn't that crazy. anyways, enjoy + reblog!

EPISODE ONE (PILOT): OF ALL THE COSMIC COINCIDENCES

KIM Jungwoo's message materialized on your lock screen in a bombardment of photons: Hey, you sure you don't wanna come with us tonight? Feel free to still join :')

You slung the strap of your bag over your head and shoulders before shooting him a reply. No thanks Woo :') Appreciate it though! Have fun tonight <3.

Some of the people in the social circle you orbited were heading to the bay tonight for a bonfire rager to celebrate (read: mourning) the beginning of the new university term. Though you hadn’t seen many of the people attending tonight in a couple months, you were never much for big crowds. Plus, the start of the school year brought a whole dumpster fire of things to worry about, so taking a quiet evening with yourself would be well worth it to keep your head on straight.

With the message sent, you hauled your apartment door open and headed out into the late evening. There was a convenient store at the end of the street a couple blocks over that you had been frequenting since freshman year, and you could taste the sweet brioche buns as the store’s fluorescent lights entered your view. It was a small corner store that reminded you much of a traditional 7/11, except there was a corner inside the store where patrons could eat and chill, and the food, arguably, tasted better than alright.

(The seating area inside this place had definitely seen many of your midterm and finals grind nights. And tears. There were lots of tear stains on those tables.)

Your roommate and good friend Miyawaki Sakura often accompanied you here whenever you came to do some studying, shopping, or recreational snacking. Tonight, she was holed up in her room video chatting with some of her cousins in Japan, but most other nights she would be online playing some kind of first person shooter game.

The walk to the nearby convenience store was a short, yet familiar one. You played a song at a faded volume in your earbuds, your hands tucked into the safety of your pockets. It was a warm night out, as late summer clung onto the coattails of early autumn, leaving a strange mixture of green, red, and yellow in the trees. The streets weren’t barren—plenty of people were out and about on a Saturday night—and still, you tilted your head up to the sky to appreciate the beauty of the obsidian sky.

When you reached the end of the block, you entered into the comfortable embrace of the convenience store. It was quiet, as expected, with only the muffled sound of jazz acoustics from the overhead speakers as white noise. The latter combined with the noise from your own device made it all the easier for you to be unaware of the other people here with you.

Your mouth was already watering from the mental image of brioche, and you made a sharp swerve into the familiar bread aisle when you realized—oh, you weren’t alone.

Standing exactly where you knew the brioche buns were stationed was a tall, lanky man with a pair of earbuds hanging from his own ears, one hand examining one of the bread packages while the other was tucked away in his pocket. His dark colored bangs were shaggy and hung in his eyes, but you could’ve recognized that side profile from a mile away. You’d spent nearly half a quarter staring at it, after all—the other half was looking at his front profile and forehead, but those were just as identifiable.

For a moment you stood at the mouth of the aisle weighing your options. Did you say hello, or did you walk away and pretend you didn’t see him?

He decided for you.

Kim Younghoon glanced up from the bread after feeling your eyes on him for a considerable beat of time. He blinked once before you saw the sharp surprise in his expression melt away into soft fondness. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckled, tugging his earbuds out with a charming smile. “Long time no see, Yn.”

You mirrored his actions and slipped the wires into your pocket. “Long time no see,” you agreed, returning his pleasant expression.

You met Younghoon just last year when he stumbled into the math tutoring center with his head held high and a notebook full of question marks. While your friends on shift at that time (Chanhee coaching someone through their linear algebra worksheet; Jungwoo yanking his hair follicles out with a group of freshmen over trigonometry) were busy, it was you who ultimately became Younghoon’s go-to calculus tutor. For the quarter that he took calculus, you helped the drama major through it.

Of course, finding a drama major in a calculus class was a rare occasion, but you both blamed the university’s awful general education requirement. Either way, you’d both found a friend and good company in one another. It didn’t help that he was terribly charismatic, and often filled the spaces in between long text messages about how to calculate the cross-section area of a vase with “good morning”s, “good luck on your midterm!”s, and corny STEM-themed one-liners.

Younghoon was the kind of guy people took home to meet their parents. Not… not that you ever thought about him like that. It was just what you overheard from this group of girls in the tutoring center once—

“I guess we both had the same idea tonight then,” he chuckled as you came to stand beside him to scour the shelf for your victim tonight.

You hummed. “I guess so,” you said. “I usually don’t see you in this area of the district though.” Because you definitely would have seen him. You lived around here, after all.

“Oh,” he grabbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “it’s a funny story actually. I dropped my friends off at a party and I went to the store near them and they had no good selection of bread.” He made a helpless gesture. “So I couldn’t just accept defeat, and now I’ve ended up here.”

You plucked a package of soft brioche from the shelf, then passed him an amused look. There was something unfair about how the harsh LED lights fell so lightly over his facial features. “I guess some form of cosmic coincidence brought us bread-lovers here.”

Younghoon knocked his bread package against yours like he was cheering a glass of champagne. “And might I say what excellent taste you have.”

That drew a laugh from you. “Ditto.”

He pursed his lips then, considering you. “So what social event are you dodging tonight, Miss Mastermind?” Younghoon’s eyebrows arched upwards at you, and you suddenly took on the sheepishness he had before. Though, you definitely noted that familiar nickname that followed his question. You wondered if that was still the name your contact was saved under in his phone. (If he even still had your contact information saved.)

You raised the palm of your hand up to hide half of your face from comical shame. “Now why would you just assume that I’m here because I’m avoiding a social call?”

“Yah,” he chided jokingly, “because I know you.” His eyes turned up to the ceiling for a moment before he added, “And you’re friends with Kim Jungwoo.”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

He laughed. “Gotcha.”

“And you say I'm the mastermind?” You quipped back at him, all light-hearted. When he first dubbed you with the nickname, you hadn't known what to do about it. He claimed it was because you somehow made learning calculus fun for him—some “sorcery,” as he accused back then.

“You are!” He exclaimed with excited, wide eyes. “You've hexed me with a love for math puns and acute angles,” he groaned melodramatically, clutching his chest like his heart was about to burst for added effect.

You clicked your tongue, unable to hide your amusement. “Acute angles is a new one.”

“'Cause they remind me of a-cute-ies like you,” he said with his hand shaped into a finger gun, tongue between his teeth.

Your hand went over your face again. “I forgot that you did that.”

“You missed it!”

The smile on your face couldn't even be fully covered with your hand. Maybe you did miss it—or maybe it was just him. When the quarter had wrapped up last year and Younghoon was no longer taking calculus, neither of you had any “excuse” to be around each other anymore. Though you still had his number, you always chickened out of texting him to see how he was doing or if he wanted to hang out.

In your mind, Younghoon was always too cool for you. You didn't feel like you fit into his world.

Younghoon took your hand and drew it away from your face, a slow smile filling his lips. “There she is. You missed me.”

“If you stop asking, I will pay for your bread.”

“As if I'm going to let you do that,” he shook his head. “I'll take that as a yes.”

You both began making your way over to the counter to purchase your individual pastries. You always knew Younghoon liked bread, and you shouldn't be so surprised that he drove halfway down the district just to find a specific brioche bun. It was funny and strange how the universe worked. At times you wondered if the probability of fate could be calculated—

“So it's just you tonight?” You asked him as the two of you lingered just outside the convenience store with your freshly purchased breads in hand. You had both immediately torn into your brioche as soon as you cleared the threshold, and the fluffy pastry filled your mouth and stomach with utter joy. It was buttery and sweet and soft… perfection.

Younghoon shoved the piece in his mouth into his cheek. “For the most part, yeah,” he replied, his shoulder lifting in a half shrug. “You?”

“Yeah, Kkura's at home, but she's on call with someone. Jungwoo did invite me out to that big bonfire at the bay tonight, but…” You shook your head.

His head tilted slightly. “Oh yeah I heard about that.” For a second, he didn't say anything, and then he murmured, “Crowd anxiety.”

You hummed, eyes shooting over to his. “Hm?”

“Crowd anxiety, right?” He asked with more confidence. “I—you can correct me if I'm wrong—but I just remember you mentioning something about crowd anxiety last year.”

Your chewing slowed for a moment, and a small smile curled onto your lips. “No, you got it right.” He remembered. Of course, he remembered. A warm feeling made itself comfortable in your chest.

Younghoon seemed to brighten. “Good, I'm glad I remembered correctly,” he said while leaning his shoulder against the wall of the convenience store. “I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Did you ever happen to watch that performance of 12 Angry Jurors I recommended?”

Uh oh. You could physically feel your neurons spark at the familiar title. It was the equivalent to a bell—no, alarm—rattling around inside your noggin.

Younghoon threw his head back in a laugh at how your face rearranged into an expression of pure mortification. "You look like I just caught you with a hand in the canary cage—oh my god, you should see your face!"

You were helpless at this point, and no words were coming to your tongue to rescue you. Screw all the differential calculus—where was language ability when you needed it? “I can explain myself,” was all you came up with.

He crossed his arms over his chest, fixing you with a pointed look, albeit still amused. "I'd love to hear this."

“You know that some things just slip my mind—”

“Yes, and that's why I watched you put it into your calendar.”

“And you know that the school has a bad habit of scheduling big events on the same night—”

He cocked a brow at you, leaning forward slightly. “I don't like where this is going, you workaholic.”

You gestured at him with the piece of bread in between your fingers, and he had to cover his mouth to keep from snorting. “I am not a workaholic,” you said firmly.

“Sure you aren't,” he replied back in a tone that indicated he thought the exact opposite.

“Anyways, they put the research symposium on the same night as the last showing—”

“Ah-ha!” He cried with a triumphant finger pointed at the sky. You were convinced that any second now, he was going to start twiddling an immaculately curled mustache. “So you did procrastinate!”

You pressed your lips together as you crumpled your empty packaging, then raised a finger up to scratch your head sheepishly. “Maybe I did.”

Younghoon drew out an exhale. “Aye, I knew it. You know, I think you're just about married to your work, Yn-ah.” His mouth quirked to the side and he scratched the underside of his jaw. “But I guess that's not a bad thing.”

You gave a small wince. “You're not mad I missed the play?”

“Mad? No, of course not. It wasn't my play,” he joked. “I know you have priorities, and me being mad would just be silly.”

“But you are disappointed,” you countered pointedly.

“Disappointed for you,” he countered. “That was a pretty good performance of 12 Angry Jurors. Though… there is one part that I would have chosen to represent differently, but…” He shrugged, letting the thought float out into the ether.

“What is it?” You prompted.

His lip curled upward and he let out a little chuckle. “I'm not telling you; it'll spoil the ending!”

You were unconvinced. “I'm never gonna see the play, Hoon.”

“Not with that attitude,” he shot back.

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of you from his sass that came out of left field for you. The sound of your joy made his smile widen and his eyes narrow into pretty, upturned crescent moons. The warmth all around you wasn't just from the evening's temperature. You'd forgotten just how easy it was to talk to Younghoon, and you decided that yes, you definitely missed him. But with all good things, it was written with a curtain call.

Younghoon seemed reluctant to push off of the wall and away from you. “Well, I shouldn't keep you any longer,” he said. There was a down turned angle to the corners of his smile now. “I do need to go re-find parking for when I have to go hunt my drunk friends down.”

Your laugh was small. “Good luck with that. And… don't worry about keeping me anywhere too long.”

“Thanks, and I'll keep that in mind.” His tongue stuck out between his teeth for a second, his head ducking down to shake his hair out of his eyes. “Hey, you still have my phone number, right?”

“I do.”

Whether harsh or dim lighting, it highlighted his features beautifully regardless. His eyes twinkled. “Now I know you won't ignore me if I send you another calc pun.”

“I'll look forward to it,” you promised.

The two of you were beginning to step toward your opposite directions, but failed to make your legs move any further. “Get home safe, Yn,” he murmured in goodbye. The possibility of him never reaching out crossed your mind. It wasn't like you didn't have faith that he would; rather, it was your own thoughts creeping into your head that you two came from different worlds. Despite the friendliness between you, that was the whole reason you shied away from ever reaching out. It was nothing personal against him.

EPISODE TWO: PASS GO & COLLECT TWO HUNDRED

GRAVITY reminded you of its existence when a bundle of fabric hit you square in the head. (Then again, you were always reminded of gravity’s existence when you thought about it…) “Yah—hey!” You clawed the article of fabric off your head and whirled around in your desk chair with a scowl. “Kkura!”

Sakura blinked innocently from where she stood at your closet, hand on her hip. “Put it on.”

You made a face as you straightened out the garment in your hands, the frown deepening when you realized which top it was. Or rather, which dress it was. “I haven’t seen this since I unpacked my clothes from boxes two years ago,” you whistled lowly. It was a black satin piece, something you brought along with you from home in case you ever decided to go to an event that called for a cocktail dress. Most of the formal events you attended though usually allowed you to get away with dress pants and a blouse. This poor piece of fabric had been relegated to the back of your closet since.

Your friend resumed sorting through your clothes for any alternatives or more of that kind. “I didn’t even know you owned something like that. I thought all your bottoms clung to your ankles unless they were shorts.”

“I have variety,” you sniffed and draped the dress over the back of your chair. “And what's wrong with bottoms going to my ankles? I like when they get to be warm.”

“That's what socks and shoes are for.”

“Says the girl who wears jeans that pretty much cover her shoes.”

Sakura shot you a look that reminded you of when your mother was exasperated, but she didn't want to admit that you were right. “Okay, so maybe we both have problems. But that's besides the point!” She walked away from your closet to sit herself on the edge of your bed, her hand dragging the arm of your desk chair to roll you over away from your desk. “We're going to a party tonight!”

She beamed, waving her hands around. When you only gave her a blank stare, she cleared her throat. “Ahem, I said, we're going to a party tonight! Woo!”

You pursed your lips. “Not very woo, to be honest.”

“You're not very woo,” she quipped in a deadpan.

“No, no, no!” You cut in, waving your finger back and forth. “Don't pretend like you wouldn't rather stay home than party either. And besides, you know that I don't do crowds.” You gazed off into space as if recalling the Great War with glazed-over eyes, already smelling the sweat and booze, and feeling the suffocating pressure in your chest as people squished up against you, and as you lost sight of your friend or anyone you knew for that matter, in the sea of—

“I know,” Sakura pushed out an exhale, and your eyes shuddered as you came out of that headspace. “But I think it'll be good for us. I mean, you need to get your eyes away from that grant application for one second, and I—”

“Need to stop playing League?” You suggested cheekily.

Your friend's scowl coaxed a high pitched wheezing sound out of you. She pursed her lips. “I was going to offer to hold your hand while we were in the house, but I guess not—”

“Okay, now let's not get ahead of ourselves!” You countered. The glint in Sakura's eyes when you interrupted her told you all you needed to know. Damn her cleverness; she'd got you once again.

Maybe she was the real mastermind.

Two hours later—the both of you dolled up and willpower strong (ish)—you clung to Sakura's hand as you and she slipped into the lively host house for tonight's festivities. Sweat already dampened the lines in your palm, and you moved your grip on your friend to hold onto her arm instead. You hadn't been to a house party or a frat party in a while, the last one being a birthday party for one of your friends from differential calculus turning twenty-one.

This instance was different. For one, there were far too many people packed together per square inch. And second, who thought turning down the lights was a good idea? You were already half blind as it was…

“I think we should get a drink!” Sakura shouted as she sent you an encouraging smile.

Your eyes widened as you narrowly missed getting someone's shoulder shoved into your face. “Yes, a drink sounds great!”

It was a war zone as the two of you maneuvered yourselves through the crowded living room space. The only reason people seemed to converge in that room in particular was because it had been turned into a makeshift dance floor. There were also people seated on the stairs, leaning over the upstairs landing, and meandering around in the halls.

You could feel your head begin to fog up as you unconsciously shifted closer to Sakura's side. Your friend curled her arm around your shoulders, deftly guiding you through the fray to the light at the end of the tunnel—the kitchen. There was a distinct lightening of your chest as you stepped foot into the less crowded space. The kitchen was still only dimly lit with the most minimal of light switches flipped on, but it was still enough where you could at least see your hand in front of your face and the light layer of sweat on Sakura’s brow. You made a swift scan of the area and spotted three people over by the kitchen counter, one of whom was slumped over the countertop, dozing off.

Oh, to be him right now.

“Oh, hello,” greeted one of the trio. He was stationed behind the counter like a bartender, his purple bangs brushed out of his face. The girl with him lifted her hand in a friendly wave.

“Hi, we’re not—uh, interrupting or anything?” Sakura said as your hold on her arm loosened considerably now that you were in an area that was much less crowded.

The two of them shook their heads with too much enthusiasm. “No, no! Definitely not.”

You and Sakura exchanged glances of incredulity, but didn’t push the topic any further. With pleasantries aside, the two of you excused yourselves to peruse the display of alcoholic beverages on the island space. You knew Sakura could hold her alcohol a decent amount, and so could you, so you both looked around for bottles of flavored soju to hold you over for the evening.

You dug around in one of the coolers and withdrew twin bottles of strawberry-flavored ones. “Kkura!”

Her blue-colored head perked up and she brightened as you waved your treasures around in the air. “Ooh, yay! You know, I think we should restock our stash of melon soju at home,” she mused and came over to where you were.

With your drinks secured, you each took the first sip like a shot, then linked arms to face the crowd again.

Drinking either made your anxiety rocket or relax—it depended on the beverage and the kind of day you’d had, but as you nursed your bottle for moments longer, the heaviness in your chest began to gradually recede.

The crowd anxiety you harbored was a byproduct of being the middle child of five siblings. You loved your family to bits, but sometimes home life was overwhelming. It wasn't that you got nervous around people, but more so in large bodies of people. The first year or so of your university life spent in large undergraduate lectures were absolute hell; there was an appeal to the upper division classes besides specialized interests.

But your friends were all aware and took good care of you, which you were more than grateful for.

“Is it just me—” Sakura said to you loudly with blue and purple lights painting her features, “—or does this soju taste really good tonight?”

You smacked your lips together as you savored the sweet taste. “You're definitely right,” you said. “We might have to go back for more.”

“If we can remember how to get there,” she giggled.

“Wait, what's in here?” You steered the two of you into a doorway to your left.

From the looks of the massive table stretching from one end to the next, you had stumbled upon the dining room. The room was large enough for there to be a few different groups of people occupying sections, but the largest one took reign over the farthest end. Your eyes widened in delight when you recognized two people in particular. “Oh wow.”

“Yn?” Chanhee exclaimed in disbelief. He was partly hunched over what looked like a board game as his deft fingers counted out paper money. “You're here?”

Everyone—well, almost everyone—turned their heads to see who Chanhee was talking about. Nonetheless, there were still quite the amount of eyes looking at you and you felt your palms begin to get sweaty around your bottle neck.

Younghoon gasped. “YN!” He grinned, lumbering over with his jelly-like limbs, tripping over people's legs and chairs. You could see the alcohol in his expression before you smelled it, but you couldn't just not hug him when he wrapped his arms around you in greeting. You hadn't seen him since last week at the convenience store but even then, the surprise had yet to escape you. What a cosmic coincidence.

“Hey, Hoon,” you chuckled in amusement, patting his back affectionately. You didn't know he would be so affectionate when drunk, but then again, this was the first time you were experiencing him like this.

“Big guy's a little drunk,” Sakura observed, then lifted her bottle to her lips. “Are you guys playing Monopoly?”

One of the guys, who looked the most of sound mind and state, nodded. “Yeah. D'you guys wanna play?”

Younghoon placed his hands on your shoulders with a goofy grin slipping onto his face as he pulled away. “You should play with us! Guys—” he announced to his friends, “—this is my bestest friend, Yn!”

“And her friend, Sakura,” you cut in, gesturing to Sakura with jazz hands.

“And we would love to play,” Sakura added.

You passed her a glance. There was mischief dancing in her eyes. You supposed at least you knew what you were getting into before jumping into any game with the Miyawaki Sakura. These poor chumps never stood a chance.

“Okay, but Chanhee's the iron,” remarked one of the other boys while you, Sakura, and Younghoon made your way over to where they all were gathered.

You snorted at Chanhee's less than pleased expression. “Why does he insist that you be the flat iron?” You nudged your friend. You met Chanhee and Jungwoo in a shared freshman differential calculus class where the three of you weathered the war together.

Chanhee sighed, his tongue poking his cheek. “Because apparently I have no ass.”

“BECAUSE YOU DON'T!”

“NEITHER DO YOU!”

With none of that settled, a good majority of the people present gathered around the Monopoly board on the table to play. You, Sakura, and Chanhee all clambered onto the dining table to sit while the others rounded the end of the table. It also gave you a little room to breathe while playing with such a large group.

“Ladies first,” declared one of the boys, who's name you learned was Sunwoo, his eyes at half mast and cheeks flushed like red grapefruit.

“If you insist,” Sakura sang and did a little dance as she swiped the dice up to roll.

You placed a hand over your eyes jokingly. “Look away!”

Haknyeon blinked with his eyes wide. “Why?”

“Because she's about to win faster than you can say pass go and collect two hundred.”

In retrospect, you saw this coming. Even if the universe could construct more possible futures than you had atoms on the tip of your pinky finger, you definitely could have seen this coming.

The aftermath immediately following Sakura's utter domination of the Monopoly board left all of her opponents in a sputtering mess. Your friend dusted her fingers off as if there were crumbs on them, a very satisfied Cheshire's cat grin crawling onto her lips. “You can fight it or just accept it,” she shrugged, taking the last swing of her soju.

Eric stared up at her from where he knelt in front of the table, gripping the edge with his palms. He was all wide-eyed and full of wonder. “Teach me your ways.”

“If you get me another soju,” she offered, gesturing with her empty bottle. She probably didn’t expect him to take her up on the offer, because her eyes widened a comical amount when the kid rocketed up to his feet and darted out of the room, faster than she could blink.

“Is he usually like that, so hyper?” You jested to Chanhee as you and he began reorganizing the paper money.

Your pink-haired friend laughed. “Kind of. Youngjae's cute.”

“And what am I, Channieeee?” Came an inebriated Changmin. He teetered over to where you and Chanhee were, then unceremoniously draped himself over the latter's back.

“Ahhhhhh,” Chanhee groaned, “Ji Changmin!”

“Answer my question!” His friend slurred. “I think Yn thinks I'm cute. D'you think I'm cute?” He asked, gazing up with you in a deep pout and puppy dog eyes.

“Don't answer that question, Yn. It's like making a deal with the Devil.”

Changmin scoffed, straightening to a surprisingly perfect posture. He slapped a hand to his chest in offense. “How could you! Chanhee-ssi! We're supposed to be friends!”

You chuckled, leaning out of that dumpster fire of a conversation, and finding yourself in the company of one very loopy bread enthusiast. Younghoon had slipped back from watching the game about three quarters of the way through and slumped into a chair with a can of beer and his phone. At some point, you had given up on Monopoly, too, and considered joining him. Now, you really did move over to join him.

His head perked up when you leaned over and poked his shoulder, a smile coming to his face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you smiled back. “Tired?”

He gave a slow, drawn-out nod. “Mhm,” he hummed. He lifted the can of beer to his lips and finished it off, then dropped his phone into his lap so he could rest his face between his hands. “I'm kind of hungry.”

You laughed. “I bet. How much did you drink, Hoon?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged.

“Long week?”

“Veeeery long week,” he nodded. “Like…” He spread his arms to his full wingspan, “this much.”

A giggle bubbled out of your mouth at how adorable he was when he was drunk.

Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. “Oh my gosh, Yn! I never sent you the joke I found,” he frowned. “I found it and thought about sending it to you, but then…”

“You forgot?” You offered.

“I just didn't wanna bother you, to be honest.”

Oh. Something in you softened a great deal at the confession. You were always so sure that you would have been the bother, because it was difficult to imagine that someone who seemed so sure of himself like Younghoon might also feel the same. You mimicked his position with your hands holding up your face. “You're never a bother, Younghoon.”

“Even when I ask dumb questions about factoring?”

“There is no such thing as a dumb question.”

He pursed his lips into a line, unconvinced. “You're too nice. No wonder I liked doing math homework.”

You laughed again at the unexpected compliment, and Younghoon smiled to himself. “I'm glad you enjoyed doing your calc homework.”

He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, then snapped it shut with wide, doe-like eyes. “I was going to say a joke, but I realized that I probably shouldn't say that one in particular.”

“Wow, you have a filter when you're drunk?” You teased.

“Hey!” He pretended to sulk. “I'm not that drunk!”

A beat passed, and then he said, “I am still hungry though.” Yeah, definitely drunk.

Within fifteen minutes, you convinced Sakura to accompany you and Younghoon to the convenience store a couple blocks from your apartment. The three of you together managed to snag Chanhee to drive you all, as well as Changmin as an accessory since he and Chanhee lived together. Younghoon had once again insisted on this place in particular because he thoroughly enjoyed the brioche bun from the other day and had been missing it since. You and he settled down at the seating area in the corner of the store with your freshly-purchased bread, while the others traipsed around in search of other sustenance.

Younghoon's cheeks were full of brioche as he muttered a muffled, “You know why I like—calculus jokes?” He swallowed his bite, his eyebrows braiding together as he stared at his now empty package.

You quietly plucked the empty bag out of his hands and replaced it with yours.

He melted at the action. “I do.”

You bursted into a fit of giggles and Younghoon followed straight after you. Your face filled with fire and his bloomed like a blood red rose. The alcohol was slowly settling in. You were a lot more refreshed now that you were outside of the crowd setting, and your chest felt much lighter. “You do?”

“I do,” he reaffirmed, tearing the last bit of bread apart for you both to share instead. “You know why I like—” he hiccupped with the bread half in his mouth. His face morphed into one of confusion, then utter disdain.

You stifled a laugh with your bite of carbs. “Why do you like calculus jokes, Younghoon?” You asked to help him out.

He swallowed his bite. “Because—trig jokes are too graphic and algebra ones are too for—” He hiccupped again, his eyes shooting up toward the ceiling in exasperation.

“Formulaic?” You offered.

Younghoon frowned. “You know this one?”

“I enjoy guessing.”

“Hm,” he grunted, unconvinced. “There is one outlier though.” When he hiccupped for the third time, you patiently waited for him to fill in the blank. “Statistics.”

A small smile wormed its way onto your face. “I have to say, that was very subtle but very good.”

Younghoon beamed with pride. “I knew you would get i—” Another hiccup. He deadpanned. “I hate this.”

You stood up with a chuckle. “Let me get you some water.”

“Thanks,” he pouted. You felt his eyes on you the whole time you went over to the free water cooler over at the counter, and even as you brought him back the little paper cup of liquid.

As he drained the cup, you lingered next to where he sat rather than sitting back down. “Better?” You asked, then held your hand out to take the cup back if he wanted more.

He shook his head though, and he raised it up to his eyes while squinting one of them to aim it at the trash can behind your seat. “How do I get this exactly inside the trash?”

You blinked, eyeballing the distance between his seat and the trash can. The paper cup wasn't going to have a lot of weight while it was empty, but if he threw it with the opening facing him instead…

Younghoon made a noise that sounded a lot like a child's giggle. “Hehe, you're actually doing the math in your head.”

“You don't know that,” you muttered.

“Of course I know that.” He shucked the paper cup and it landed in the trash can with a clean swish sound. He threw his hands in the air. “Woo! Crowd goes wild.”

You laughed and slid back into your seat. “See, you didn't need math to get the cup into the trash can. Nice throw, Hoon.”

He grinned at you. “Thanks. You know how I knew you were doing the math in your head?”

“How?” You humored him amiably.

“Because you get this cute little wrinkle between your eyes, riiiight there—” He leaned forward and booped the place between your eyes, making you go cross-eyed for a split second. “—when you're processing info.”

“Processing info makes me sound like a computer,” you joked.

“Too bad you're not a keyboard,” he said with a sigh, “you'd be just my type.”

An unnaturally loud guffaw came out of your mouth and you slapped your hand over it. There was far too much mirth between the two of you right now. “You're telling me you're good at this drunk, too?” You shook your head, the laugh lingering on your tongue, “Y'know what? I shouldn't be surprised.”

If Younghoon could come up with pick-up lines to remember how to do calculus sober, then you should not have underestimated him drunk.

“Changmin, can you put the plunger down before we get kicked out?” Your head turned toward the sound of Chanhee's pure exhaustion as the three others rounded the corner. You imagined Chanhee dealt with drunk Changmin more than a few times to sound so exasperated. You didn't even want to know what Changmin was doing with the plunger.

Sakura, Chanhee, and Changmin bumbled over to where you and Younghoon sat, the supposed plunger nowhere to be seen. Chanhee brushed a lock of pink out of his eyes with a deep sigh. “Alright; shall we?”

EPISODE THREE: DO AS THE PHYSICISTS DO

THE hungrier Younghoon woke up, the more he likely had to drink the night prior. His stomach growled something horrific and he groaned, rolling his body over to squish his face into his pillow. There were no trains of thought running through his mind at the moment; there was only blissful quiet. And hunger. Goddamn it, he was hungry.

With a huff, he dragged himself upright as if he were rising from the dead. He gave his head a rough shake, eyes bleary as he blinked once… then twice… Oh, yuck. Sticky eyelashes.

There was something white on his desk that caught his eye. There was a yellow sticky note marked with Chanhee's chicken scratch beside it: Yn sent you home with this bottle of painkillers. In case you don't remember, lol.

Dear god, it was coming back to him now.

Younghoon lowered himself down onto the edge of his bed and dragged a hand down his face. Had he been weird? Did you think he was weird now?

His phone was buried somewhere beneath his mess of sheets, and he pulled up your contact that he still had saved from last year. The last message sent was from a brief conversation you both had after his calculus final about what you were both doing when you went home for the winter break. He could feel the warmth creeping up to his cheeks from his neck as he typed out the first message to you since: heyy… about last night…

It was a bit of a surprise when he saw your reply come in nearly straight away.

miss mastermind: LOL good morning, did u sleep okay? younghoon's phone: decently ig 😅 thanks for the painkillers btw i will def take a couple of those miss mastermind: yeah no worries younghoon's phone: how bad was i last night, yn 😭 u can tell me miss mastermind: 😭 u weren't that bad… okay maybe u started singing the calculus parody of bohemian rhapsody on the way to my apartment…

Younghoon snickered into his palm as he stared at the messages on the screen. That memory was definitely rolling back into his head now. It was that, along with the Monopoly game, then the convenience store, and finally, the walk to yours and Sakura's apartment before Chanhee dropped him off here.

miss mastermind: i can't say im too surprised u remembered it tho 😭 sometimes i forget that ur trained to remember things younghoon's phone: that's a funny way to describe being an actor LMAO younghoon's phone: but also i'd be lying if i didn't admit that im so embarrassed abt last night miss mastermind: nooo don't be!! it's all good, i thought u were a very cute drunk

He smiled against his hand. He typed: Well now I just have to make it up to you.

miss mastermind: u absolutely do not younghoon's phone: actually i do younghoon's phone: if i recall correctly, u gave me the rest of ur BREAD. that's like…|

He paused, having nearly written “marriage proposal.” Quickly backspacing, he replaced it with “donating an organ.” Maybe he was a little delusional, but he could've sworn he heard your laugh echoing in his head after he sent it and saw the indicator appear that you were typing. He reached over to grab the bottle of painkillers as he monitored your texts coming in.

miss mastermind: DONATING AN ORGAN… miss mastermind: yk, i knew u liked bread, but not THIS much younghoon's phone: but ofc :0 she's my first love miss mastermind: understood o7 now ik how to sway ur judgment ☝️ younghoon's phone: le gasp younghoon's phone: truly evil mastermind things only miss mastermind: the le gasp is taking me out 😭 younghoon's phone: how abt /i/ take u out instead 😗

As soon as he sent it, he grimaced. Oh no, this was going to be taken out of context. You were going to go through the whole “sorry, I'm not really interested in you” talk, and he would have to sit through it pretending like it didn't hurt—he didn't mean for it to sound like that. You were just friends after all.

younghoon's phone: I MEAN LIKE younghoon's phone: for watching over me and humoring me last night yk! it doesn't have to be something fancy either, just something that we can do as friends! and to say thanks

His grimace deepened. Those clarification texts did nothing to help his case. It also did not calm his nerves when you failed to respond immediately like you had been for the past few minutes. “Well, you've done it now,” he muttered to himself as he frowned down at the screen.

For a couple minutes, there was nothing from your end and he forced himself to drag his ass off the bed in search of sustenance. Hyunjae's door was closed, so the rest of the apartment was quiet as he bounded out of his room toward the kitchen. Periodically (read: every couple seconds), Younghoon would glance at his phone screen waiting for your reply. “What are you scared of?” He said to himself as he opened the fridge and scratched his jaw. “You literally came up with pick-up lines for calculus terms with her.”

There were leftovers from a couple nights ago, and Younghoon grabbed those to heat up. He closed the refrigerator with his hip, eyes darting to his phone, only to see his screen light up. He dropped the leftover container on the counter and scooped the device up.

miss mastermind: i really don't think it's necessary to pay it back or anything, but we can def hang out! miss mastermind: also sorry my sister stole my phone TT but i got it back haha It was sad how fast relief flushed through him at that moment. younghoon's phone: oh no dw abt it lol ur with family rn? miss mastermind: i am! my aunt's in town and so i was summoned home for brunch 🤧 younghoon's phone: …is there :’)) uhm french toast :’)) miss mastermind: *sent a photo* younghoon's phone: that was cruel. miss mastermind: HAHAHA SORRY 😭

Younghoon stuck his leftovers into the microwave to heat up, but was suddenly craving French toast. He knew for certain he didn't have everything to make it right this second though. Maybe he would wake Hyunjae up to go impromptu grocery shopping.

younghoon's phone: i don't wanna keep u away from ur family any longer, but lmk if u have any preferences for what we should do together miss mastermind: no prefs in particular and dw, talking to u helps distract me from the amount of chaos happening in this house :’) miss mastermind: i do have to go now tho unfortunately :l my sister looks like she's abt to snatch my phone again 😭 younghoon's phone: LOL 😭 okay i'll talk to u soon then younghoon's phone: enjoy ur toast :/ miss mastermind: HAHA i'll save u a slice hoon 😋

The microwave beeped its conclusion, and Younghoon pulled the piping hot bowl of leftover food out. As he took a stab at it with his fork, he came to the swift conclusion that he was not going to be full on this. As he shoveled the food into his mouth, he started toward Hyunjae's room to give his friend a very rude awakening. “HYUNJAE! WE NEED FRENCH TOAST!”

There was no better place than the convenience store at the ripe timestamp of ten o'clock to meet with a friend. You'd gotten back from your house at around four o'clock in the afternoon, so you weren't too tired, though the cleanup and all the social interaction was threatening to take you out. Any school work or grant application work would have to wait until tomorrow.

Nonetheless, you felt a giddy sort of excitement bubble up in you as you hustled yourself down the street to the convenience store to meet Younghoon. In your hands, you clutched a small, sandwich-sized Tupperware container with a slice of holy French toast within. It was your older brother's favorite thing to make when he had to contribute to a brunch (or, let's face it, any meal) spread.

Younghoon had never been tardy to your tutoring sessions last year, so you weren't surprised when you saw him seated at your usual table in the corner. He glanced up from his phone as you walked in, waving. There was a blue colored beanie over his head and a brown corduroy jacket draped over his shoulders.

He noted the container in your hands and his eyes widened like saucers. “You did not.”

“I told you I would save you a piece,” you said sheepishly as you set the container down in front of him and took a seat.

“You—” His bottom lip jutted out. “I can't accept this.”

“You have to. It has your name on it,” you insisted, pointing out the little “Younghoon” scrawled on the side in Sharpie with a smiley face. It was customary in your household to write names on containers if they weren't already color coded or marked with a label. Label makers cost more than Sharpies did, and most of the time, your family didn't mind scrubbing the ink off if needed.

Younghoon's smile was sweet like the pastry sitting in the Tupperware. “I literally made French toast as soon as we stopped texting.”

You laughed. “No way.”

“Yes way! I dragged Hyunjae's ass out of bed,” he told you with great energy, eyes alight as he recalled his late morning antics to you. “I really didn't expect that you would bring me a slice, Yn, you sweetheart.”

“We had lots of leftovers and I just knew the most enthusiastic bread fanatic I knew had to try some of my big brother's toast,” you told him, pleased with his reaction.

He seemed at a loss for words; he just kept looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and you wondered how you could replicate this reaction over and over again. “Thank you,” was what he settled on. “I—” He gestured to the container, to you, to the container, “It means a lot.”

“You're welcome,” you said simply.

Younghoon heaved a great sigh and stood up. “Now I have to buy you some snacks—no. Yn, sit your ass down.”

Your eyes widened a comical amount and you plopped yourself back onto the chair.

His lips wiggled as he held back a smile. “Don't move.”

“You don't have to do this, Hoon,” you shook your head as he began making his way over to the aisles.

“What's that rule in chemistry? Energy can neither be created nor destroyed?” He queried from within the drinks aisle.

“The first law of thermodynamics,” you supplied. “It's not just chemistry though. It's relevant in all the sciences.” You weren't sure where he was going with this.

“Yeah, well—” He paused. You couldn't see him from where you were, but even the rustling noises stopped. “Shit, that's not the right rule.”

You bit back a laugh. Oh, he was too adorable.

“What's the one where equal and opposite and…?”

Your brain tripped. “Uh, the—the 'for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction’ one?”

More crinkling. “Aha! That's the one. Yeah, so for your actions, I must do as the physicists do, and react accordingly.”

Younghoon returned to you with an entire treasure trove of goodies that you swore amounted to more than what was due. (That number to you was technically zero, but for Younghoon's insistence, it was slightly over zero… maybe one one-thousandth.) It was a smorgasbord of peach drinks with lychee jelly, potato chips, daifuku mochi, and of course, bread buns. It was a feast in its own right. You both dove straight into the snacks before you. When life gave one lemons, one was to make lemonade.

Younghoon popped a chip into his mouth. “Do you come here often? Is this your hangout spot?” He suddenly asked, then dipped his hand into the bag and waved a chip around in the air, a quizzical kink in his brow. “I mean, you do live close by and you seem to be very familiar with the place.”

You screwed the cap of your bottle of juice back on and wiggled your fingers as you surveyed what snack to eat next. “I do hang out here often—you’re right,” you replied. The daifuku looked very appetizing right about now. “I've been coming by since school started to knock out my grant app.”

He perked up curiously. “Grant app?”

“It's for the Space Grant.” In partnership with the national space organization, your university offered something called the Space Grant, which would grant three applicants with a monetary award that could be used toward their education in aerospace. You'd had your eye on it even before you began attending this school, and you were determined to be one of the three who won it this year.

After you briefed him on the cause of much of your recent stress, Younghoon gave an indulging nod. “Mmmmh, I see. You're still aerospace engineering then, right?”

“Yep,” you chirped. “me and propulsion theory to the end. I guess I'm an airplane kid.” At the latter, you made a face. You were the space version of an airplane kid… the alternate of train kids and car kids…

“Don't think about it too much,” he said with corners of his smile peeking out on either side of where he pressed his fist against his lips.

You tried not to. “How about you? What have you been up to?”

He breathed out an exhale. “Hm? Oh, like, with drama?”

“Sure, anything and everything about you.” You leaned your cheek against your fist and peered over at him. “We've been talking about me too much.”

“Nonsense,” he tsked. “You already know I recite lines, dabble in the hilariously good pun on occasion, and am incredibly obsessed with carbohydrates.”

“What more could I possibly wanna know?” You played along.

“Exactly.” He chuckled then, tongue darting out for a second to wet his lips. “Jokes aside, nothing too much. Hyunjae's best friend, HJ!Yn—she’s a director and writer, and she's putting on her own play in the spring that I'll be auditioning for.”

Your eyebrows arched in interest. “Oh? What's it about?”

“No clue.”

You nodded. “Ah, well, good luck—or, break a leg. People say that, right? It's not just in movies?”

“People do say that, yes,” he affirmed. “And thank you. I'm gonna start a part-time teaching job at a school nearby for their theater program, which I think will be fun.”

“That does sound fun,” you agreed. Because you had two younger siblings yourself, you knew that taking care of young ones was a lot, but if anyone could do it, you knew Younghoon could. You imagined he would do quite well with them. “Let me know when they have a performance!”

His eyes twinkled in the fluorescent lights; you were beginning to grow more accustomed to the way the harsh brightness painted his features softer. “You have to promise to come though. This is more important than 12 Angry Jurors.”

You placed a hand against your heart in playful solemnity. “I, Yn Ln, do solemnly swear that I will try my very best to make it to see their performance.”

He cleared his throat, his expression falling into an expertly grave facade. “I accept your promise,” he said and extended his hand out to you across the table, “shake my hand, and may the deal never be broken.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from breaking out of character as you shook his hand. When you'd both withdrawn your hands, you watched him, fascinated, as he exited out of character. It was like a switch had been flicked off behind his eyes. Crazy.

Satisfied, Younghoon laced his fingers beneath his chin with a giddy, little smile on his face. “I'll save you an aisle seat.”

“I appreciate that,” you said. You really did—and he really remembered.

“And I'll make silly faces at you from the curtain wings.”

You laughed, telling him you couldn't wait.

EPISODE FOUR: TRAINS GO BOOM?

THERE were too many fires to put out at once. You were becoming the humanoid version of that dog in a burning house meme, and you didn't like it. It was not fine.

“Girl, I wish you'd told me, like, three weeks ago—”

You tasted the rejection a mile out.

“—I already committed to this robotics thing that night,” Jungwoo cried in anguish as he threw his head back. “I could've gone to the Space Gala! Instead, I'm watching people play with robots.”

You passed him a sympathetic look. “Robots are cool.”

“But I don't even get to do anything! I can only spectate!” You both stopped in the middle of your walk as he made unintelligible noises and gesticulations. Jungwoo grabbed your shoulders and shook them. “YN! WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE? I have to pay to watch people have fun.”

Your head was wobbling back and forth like a bobble head. Thank god for spines. “Woo—I’m gonna be honest—”

He stopped shaking you.

“I have no idea,” you said to him. “But we are in the same boat.”

The two of you were currently situated on the engineering side of campus. Most of the buildings around you were geared toward the great spectrum of engineering students—from electrical and computer, to aerospace and nautical. You just got out of a numericals simulation course and caught up with Jungwoo coming out of the engineering library to present to him your newest dilemma.

Jungwoo's posture sank. “I only have regrets after pursuing MechE.”

You pursed your lips, lamely patting him on the shoulder. “I told you aero is cooler.”

“I won't dignify that with an answer,” he sulked. Jungwoo picked himself up, however, as he always did. He carded a hand through his floppy brown bangs, eyes flickering down to his phone screen before his eyeballs nearly fell out of his socket. “Oh shit—I’m gonna be late to advanced mathematics. Chanhee is gonna murder me.”

He bumped your shoulder with the back of his hand. “Good luck on finding a plus one, Yn-ie!”

“Good luck getting there before Chanhee,” you hollered back.

Jungwoo threw you an expression that needed no subtitles, but fitting ones would read, That was so unnecessary!

As your friend sprinted in one direction, you began walking in the opposite direction. You had a little more than a couple hours before your next lecture, so you could probably either walk around and enjoy the day's nice weather or find a place to work. All bets were off when you felt your phone buzz from your pocket, and you saw the message on the screen. It was a text from your older sister: hey mom's asking if u have something to wear to the wedding lol.

The “LOL” at the end really downplayed how much stress this was going to give you. The entire event of The Wedding had slipped from your mind over the past week—actually, you were pretty sure you forgot the moment you got back into your car to drive home from brunch last weekend.

If you thought you had a large immediate family, your extended one would silence all thoughts instantly. One of your cousins-in-law was getting married in December, which meant you needed to find an outfit and mentally prepare yourself for the amount of people there were going to be in one room.

The Wedding made you anxious.

You shot your sister a frazzled text back. It was something along the lines of: maybe… lemme check the back of my closet… or pray I have funds in my bank account.

You somehow made your way to one of the green spaces on campus. It wasn't the main lawn that people picnicked or hung out on, but it was still just as beautiful as the main one. It also sat right by the café located down here in the engineering corner; you and your friends liked to loiter around here when the weather was nice.

It was exactly why you thought you were hallucinating when you saw Younghoon walking toward you.

“Younghoon?” You voice incredulously. “What're you doing here?”

He beamed at you, reaching a hand up to cup the back of his neck. “Oh, you know, just taking a walk and enjoying this nice, autumn weather…”

“Down in the engineering buildings?”

He sniffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I wasn't purposely trying to look for you or anything,” he said and rocked back and forth on his heels.

You didn't need to know rocket science to read him. “Okay,” you drawled. “Say I believe you.”

“Divine coincidence,” he shrugged helplessly, jovially, even. His eyes were upturned in cute crescent moons. “Oh! And would you look at that—” He swung his backpack around to the front of his body and withdrew your plastic container from its depths, empty and clean, with even his sharpied name scrubbed off. “I just happened to have this on me.”

You sputtered out a laugh and accepted the container from him. “How funny that this pattern of events keeps happening.”

“Pfft, I know, right?” He brushed a hand through his hair. “So, uh, what're you up to?”

“What am I up to?” You parroted. “Not sure, to be honest. I've got a couple hours to kill. What about you?”

Younghoon gestured to the walkway that bordered the perimeter of the engineering lawn. You fell into step beside one another. “Nothing much, too. I kind of just needed a little walk outside to clear my head.”

You sighed, nodding. “I get that.”

“That sounded… very heavy,” he said, passing you a glance. “Something on your mind, Mastermind?”

“Oh, well,” you trailed off, uncertain of where to begin or how to begin. It seemed like Younghoon had something on his mind, too, and you didn't want to give him something else to hold onto. But when you looked over at him, there was a concentrated, concerned furrow in his brow; he was nowhere else but present with you.

You clasped the back of your neck and felt the knot in your muscles. “There's this thing.”

“Mhm.”

“Colloquially, it's referred to as the Space Gala, but it's kind of just an evening prepared by the Space Grant Consortium with a bunch of booths and a Q&A panel—things like that.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Wow, a whole consortium?”

“Yup.” You'd been a member of the student club associated with the consortium since freshman year, not just to keep up to date with information about the space grant, but because you enjoyed attending the events and learning about new innovations related to your desired field. “And it's a little formal where everyone dresses nicely to a degree, and each member can bring a plus one. Usually, Sakura comes with me, but something just came up for her that she can't avoid so—” You made a helpless gesture with your hands.

It was no fault of her own that she couldn't avoid the personal matter that came for her. You just needed to find someone to go with you now, but finding someone on such short notice was proving to be less than swift.

“Ah,” Younghoon said in understanding. “You'd like to attend with someone you're comfortable with because it's a large gathering of people, and—when is it?”

“Next Friday,” you grimaced.

He blinked. “Oh, wow.”

“Yeah.”

Younghoon pressed his lips together. “Hey, I mean, if you're looking for someone to go with—I dunno if you're comfortable with me compared to your closer friends—and I don't want to seem as if I'm inviting myself, but—”

“Younghoon,” you cut in with the knots in your neck and shoulders suddenly dissipating. You pressed your hands together, touching them to your lips. “Would you like to go to the Space Gala with me?”

The most beautiful smile blossomed onto his face then, and you swore to go it was warmer than the sun's beams. For a second, his cheekbones darkened with something bashful, but it was hidden in the blink of an eye, and you were met again with the charming Younghoon you knew well. “Why, there's nothing I would love to do more.”

“You are a lifesaver.”

“Aw, don’t worry about it,” he laughed. “I'm happy to go with you, Yn. I mean, what does Sakura usually do to help you when you're in crowded places?”

Hold my hand. That thought was immediately cast aside. That was probably far too much. You coughed, “Uhm, just—you know—stick around me. I get kind of overwhelmed when there are a lot of people around.”

“Overstimulation?” He offered sympathetically.

“I suppose that's the word I'm looking for.”

Younghoon nodded. “Okay. Hey, that's okay. You just tell me what I need to do to make you feel safe and I'll do it.”

Your heart pounded in your chest and you couldn't figure out the right words to express your gratitude. It was hard not to downplay your own misgivings; it took time to practice being patient with yourself. “Thanks, Hoon. I don't really�� know what to say, but I really do appreciate it.”

“You don't have to say anything,” he said easily. “And I think, personally, I'm a great plus one.”

If only all of your troubles in life could be fixed so simply by Kim Younghoon being your plus one.

Your stroll together took you down toward the environmental science building. It was a path through a heavily forested area, though a little strange even being located somewhere south of the main campus. The paved sidewalk faded into a worn dirt path, and sunlight filtered in through the layers of leaves crisscrossing overhead.

“I've spilled my guts,” you piped up, “now what's on your mind?” You added swiftly, “If you're comfortable with sharing.”

Younghoon blew out an exhale from his mouth. “You know that job I mentioned? The one where I'm working with a youth theater program nearby?”

You nodded. “Yeah, how's that going, by the way?”

“I'm not sure,” he admitted with his mouth shifted to the side. “I had my first day with them on Wednesday, and I'm seeing them again today. I think I'm just nervous that they'll get bored of me.”

Ah, you could understand that. Surely your years helping out with your younger siblings could lend some use. It was rare to see Younghoon in this state of unease, and it was even more rare to think of someone who wouldn't like him. Seeing him troubled even a little made your stomach churn, and you wanted to help find a solution. “How old are they?”

“They’re all older primary school kids,” he said. “Young enough to not be scary middle schoolers and old enough to have some kind of attention span.”

You smiled to yourself. “Oh, I know exactly what you're talking about.”

“I knew you would.” He brightened. “You have younger siblings, don't you? Any chance one of them wants to become an actor?”

“Oh, hm,” you murmured, “Sadie's got her eyes set on ballet right now and I think Quincey's really only fascinated about his trains. They can be swayed though, I'm sure.”

“How do I keep a kid's interest though?”

You wish you had a formula for that. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth. “To be so honest with you, kids just like learning about dangerous shit.”

Younghoon wheezed. “What?”

You grabbed his shoulder as you both stopped in the walkway so he would face you. “Listen—no, I'm being serious, Younghoon!” You were trying to get a hold of this man as if you weren't gradually losing it, too. “Do you know how many times my little brother has made his trains go boom?”

“Yn.”

“He has problems, I know; he's like, four and a half or something.”

Younghoon's eyes were filled with mirth as he pressed his knuckles against his mouth. “Yn, do you know how insane that sounds?”

Your eyes shuddered in a blink. “Huh?”

He grappled onto your shoulders with another wheeze, eyes moist with laughter and a twinge of something else you couldn't process. “Yn, are you free next Friday at three?”

“Yeah?”

“Come with me to see the kids?”

“Okay.”

His tongue ran over his teeth as he grinned. Younghoon's head dipped in a nod, and he dropped his hands to the side. You didn't know what the hell just happened, but you had a feeling a solution was very much found.

EPISODE FIVE: TO INFINITY & BEYOND

“PLEASE tell me you're leaving the medieval torture devices out of the discussion.”

You passed him a look from the passenger's side of Younghoon's Prius. (It was objectively hilarious to watch this man fold his long limbs up to get in and out of this car; you didn’t know how the laws of nature even allowed a human with his height to own and drive one of these things.) “You say that like you were sure I wasn't.”

It was currently the Friday following, and the day you and Younghoon would both be each other's plus ones. Presently, you were in his car as he drove you both over to the elementary school where he was part-timing. Once this class was over, you would split off to prepare for tonight's Space Gala before meeting again at the venue on campus.

He turned his signal on as he pulled into the parking lot. “I'm just making sure.” He glanced over at you. “Are you excited?”

“To have about two dozen pairs of eyes on me?” You had faced crowds before and they weren't your forte, but you supposed if they were all bite-sized people this time, it wouldn't be so bad. Plus, Younghoon said they would be sitting down and working in groups most of the time anyways. The appeal of this crowd was that you didn't have to worry about getting swept up.

“They're all nice kids,” he said as if consoling you. “It'll be fun!”

“But I can talk about the trebuchet, right?” You asked after he parked and you were clambering out of the car. That one time you went down a fascinating rabbithole of medieval machinery was about to come in handy.

Younghoon paused with his hand on the top of his door. “That wasn't the one with the horse-pulling, was it?”

“Oh, definitely not.”

He locked the door and the two of you began walking side by side to cross the parking lot. There was a plastic clipboard in his hand made of a material in a shade of translucent neon green, something you expected a PE teacher would carry around, except this clipboard was armed with scripts and instructor notes. The little drama program at this school was currently only an after-school occurrence, but if this all went well, they might be granted permission from the school to start integrating it into everyday classes. It was exciting—you could remember your first years of exposure to things like liquid nitrogen ice cream, egg drop competitions, and the National Geographic issue called Astronauts. Perhaps in another life you would've been an astronaut, rather than the engineer who designed the vessel that would take them into space.

Needless to say, these were some of their most impressionable years, and Younghoon was going to be a big part of these kids’. It made you warm and fuzzy inside.

Sometime between today and last week, Younghoon brought you up to speed on what the kids were currently working on. The head instructor picked out something from an adapted version of How to Train Your Dragon, which in all honesty, was cool as fuck. Immediately, thoughts about how to build a harness apparatus for an actual dragon model came to your mind, but you would need to take a look at the dimensions of the stage and preferably leave flamethrowers out of the end result. That was if you were allowed to or even had the time to.

It would be fun though. Of course it was going to be fun.

Younghoon was the first one to enter the auditorium room. It was a multipurpose building with a large, open concept space lined in carpet with a stage at the furthest end and the doors to the library across the way. With the impending introduction, you stuck behind your friend as he poked his head in. Instant squeals of delight erupted at the sight of him. (He was kidding when he said he was worried about the kids ever getting bored of him, right?) “Younghoon!”

Younghoon’s smile was so big that you could see it even when his face was half turned. “Hi everyone—I brought a friend today. Let’s give her a nice, warm welcome, hm?” Younghoon stepped completely into the room now, his hand coming over to gently sweep you in with him by your shoulder. “This is Yn.”

You raised your hand in a small, awkward wave, a greeting somehow managing to come out of your mouth. There were so many little ones present and they were all sitting in a misshapen blob in the middle of the carpet, their backpacks lined up against one of the side walls. Interacting with children who weren’t your siblings or relatives was a lot different.

“Oh my gosh,” you heard one of them gasp. “Is she his partner?”

“No, she is not my partner—she’s a friend,” Younghoon replied pointedly. “Boys and girls can be friends, Roni.”

There was a boy with a gray colored Lightning McQueen jacket on who said, “That’s exactly what my brother said before he asked his best friend to be boyfriend-girlfriend.”

Well. You angled your head toward your counterpart and murmured to him, “How old did you say these kids were?”

“Now you know why I needed your help,” he joked. “Their brains run too fast.”

“And you think the two of ours can measure up?”

Another small one—she had her dark hair in twin pigtails, knotted off with bows—raised her hand. “Are you an actor like Younghoon?”

“Me?” You pointed at yourself as if there was someone else she could’ve been asking. “Oh, no, I don’t have the skillset to be an actor,” you mused. “I basically make airplanes and rockets.” Basically.

A flurry of excitement kicked up like a snowstorm, and you could feel your skin warm at the sudden increase in energy. Perhaps you should have led with that..? But even so, it was abrupt, and you didn’t quite know what to do with yourself—

Younghoon cleared his throat, “Hey guys, let’s keep our noise level down, please.”

In response to his request, the kids miraculously managed to quiet themselves down to a buzzing chatter. It hit you at that moment; Younghoon wasn’t just good with kids—he was incredible. Why did he ever think he needed your help when you could barely stutter out a sentence about what you did instead of acting?

“I told Yn about the show we’re putting on,” he said with everyone’s attention now settled on him, including yours, “and she was very excited about seeing it.”

“Is she gonna make us fly?” Someone asked with their eyes wide and big, and you swore you could fit the whole Milky Way within the awe that was in their irises. Kids, man.

“Only if you guys do good today,” Younghoon said. “Why don’t we break off into groups and show Miss Yn what we’ve been practicing, hm?”

You managed to pick out the Star Trek theme over the volume of your hair dryer, and swore loudly as you cut the device off and scurried into your room to find your phone. “Hello?” You answered as you brought your phone back with you into the bathroom.

“Hey,” answered Younghoon, “I was thinking of just picking you up to go to the thing tonight instead of just meeting there.”

It was approximately two hours since you and Younghoon departed from the elementary school. You were back at your apartment now, attempting to get your bearings and clean yourself up for the evening's festivities.

You could feel the gears turning in your head as you weighed your options. “I mean—only if it’s convenient.”

“Okay, I’ll be by at say… 7?”

“Sounds good,” you replied as you finished up styling your hair. Though nicknamed the Space Gala, it wasn’t meant to be incredibly formal like dinner jackets and evening gowns—nice shirts, ironed pants and skirts, and non-sneakers or non-sandals would do fine. “Thanks, Hoon.”

“Mhm!” He chirped to the accompaniment of rustling in the background.

“Also—” You grabbed your phone and flicked the bathroom light off. As you were making your way back into your bedroom, you saw Sakura peer out through her open doorway with curious eyes like that of a cat. She wagged her eyebrows at you knowingly and you shooed at her playfully. “Kim Younghoon, you are such a liar!”

His laugh was sincere and bright. “Technically, I never lied.”

“You are great with kids.”

“Being good with kids is a subjective quality, my friend,” he replied, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Besides, you did great with them, too. They loved you.”

You pursed your lips in a sad, silly attempt to stay petty, but you couldn’t deny that you had a nice time with him and his students this afternoon. Once the initial jitters subsided, you loosened up a considerable amount. Adults oftentimes underestimated how perceptive kids were, but you had a feeling that they caught onto what made you feel overwhelmed pretty quickly. At least, most of the groups you were working with did.

But… you had fun. That was all that mattered in the end. You would enjoy going back to see them again. You kicked your door closed with your foot. “I had a good time,” you replied at last. “Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“Yeah, of course. It was really fun having you there with me—us.”

You both paused on either end of the phone as the conversation reached a natural lull point. As you fitted on the freshly-steamed blouse you planned to wear tonight, you caught the time at the top of your phone screen. “Uh… so I’ll see you in about twenty minutes then?”

Shuffling from his end, and then, “Yep—twenty minutes! See you in a bit, Yn-ah.”

“Bye, Hoon!”

Twenty minutes flew by faster than 299,000,000 meters per second—at least, to you. One moment, you were ducking into the passenger side seat of Younghoon’s Prius, and the next, the two of you were being admitted in through the doors of the annual Space Gala. The usual “venue” that the consortium booked for this event was one of the campus’s main buildings that housed three large lecture rooms on the first floor, as well as two lecture halls on the second floor across from another large event space.

The lobby was filled with a crush of people, with some faces you recognized and others that you didn't. There were tables draped over with black cloth that hosted educational mini games where one could win free button pins and stickers, booths with companies associated with the consortium present to pitch potential internships, and everything in between. Younghoon stuck to your side like glue. You felt the warmth of his hand either between your shoulder blades or on one of your shoulders as the two of you maneuvered your way through the crowd.

It wasn’t until you hit the farther end of the lobby where there was a clearing of people that you felt the pressure in your sternum alleviate. You imagined your gaze appeared a little empty, glassy even, but it was all just an overwhelming wave of sensations on all ends.

“How’re you feeling?” You heard Younghoon’s voice close to your ear so you could hear him but anyone else around you couldn’t.

You focused on that—his voice. “I’m fine,” you assured him with a small smile. “I’m excited to be here and it’s just a lot.”

Younghoon smiled back at you and you felt his palm warm little circles on your back. “Take your time. The guy at the front says it’ll be another half hour until we can expect the panel to start.”

“Kkura and I—we, uh, usually go in a little earlier than everyone else.” Depending on the year, you and Sakura either occupied seats in the front couple of rows or one of the balcony seats. The former was to distract you from the idea of several hundred other people being in the room behind you, whereas the latter was so you had a large space between you and the crowd. Both were methods that you and your friend deduced were the best at soothing any feelings of overwhelm.

He nodded. “Okay, yeah, we can still do that. Are there any tables you wanna visit before we go in?”

“Actually,” you said, and your heart leapt at the memory of one booth you visited every year, “I have to show you this one thing—it’s so neat. It might be on the other side of the lobby, but we can cut upstairs and get to it that way.” Where there was a will, there was most definitely a way.

Younghoon’s expression mirrored the excitement in yours. “Lead on, Yn-ah,” he chuckled and let you grab his hand to show him why you loved what you did.

This year was dubbed a balcony year.

From yours and Younghoon’s perch up in the balcony rows, you could peer down at the hundreds of heads below, as well as the presentations given onstage. You were always blown away by the new information and possibilities brought up during the year’s presentations, as well as during the question and answer section where audience members could either line up to ask the panelists their queries directly or send them anonymously to an online platform.

Your preferred method was most definitely the latter because public speaking was not your forte, even though it meant you would have less probability for your questions to be answered. One year, Kkura had practically escorted you up to a panelist when everyone was leaving because you had a burning question.

But this year was different. All of your awe was coupled with the amount of marvel expressed by your partner for the evening. If you were fascinated by what was being discussed below, then Younghoon just entered a whole new galaxy.

You found yourself glancing over at him the whole night to watch his reaction. Periodically, your eyes would meet, and you might have been embarrassed to be caught looking at him, but it was completely dashed away by the pure reverence that was stark on his face.

At some point, the evening did have to come to an end, and you and Younghoon lingered up in the balcony to let everyone else below you trickle out first.

“That,” Younghoon whistled low, “was incredible. I’m so—” He made unintelligible hand gestures before coming up with a word, “—bedazzled. I’m positively bedazzled.”

You grinned. “I’m very pleased to hear that you’re bedazzled.”

“I mean, why don’t we hear about this on the news?” He queried, eyebrows knitted together in disbelief. He reached up to adjust the wiggly star headband on top of his head that he won from a spin-the-wheel stall earlier. “If they talked about finding organic chemicals on faraway planets on the evening news, viewership from my devices would skyrocket for them.”

“Don’t we all wish they talked about space on the news,” you sighed as you leaned your cheek against your fist. “But also, as Dr. Cho mentioned, we can’t get too excited yet. Organic chemicals for us might not mean organic chemicals for an alien species.”

Younghoon nodded slowly. “Right,” he drawled. “That’s so interesting to think about… that we’re possibly not alone and that they could either be very similar to us or very different, or maybe even somewhere in between.”

“Isn’t it crazy?” You couldn’t count the amount of times you got lost in a rabbithole of research when you were supposed to be working on assignments instead. Your eyes darted down to the lower levels to check the population density, and garnered that you could still wait at least a couple minutes more. “Hey, you know, if you're interested in this stuff, then you should come to some of the planetarium’s presentation nights sometime.”

Your counterpart’s eyes widened like the lens of a telescope. “We have a planetarium?”

You giggled. “Yeah, silly. What did you think the astronomy tower was for?”

“We have an astronomy tower?”

You smiled wide against your knuckles as you nodded. “Maybe you should wander down by the engineering buildings more often.”

Younghoon made an incredulous face. “Maybe I should.” He considered something for a moment and you watched the smile blossom onto his face again. “Though, I have a feeling that if I looked into a telescope, I'd only see you—’cause you're a star.”

“That was awful,” you snorted into your hand, shaking your head.

“Not my best work,” he admitted. He could admit defeat when he was met by it, but he wouldn't let it hinder his efforts. “You know, I think Galileo was wrong.”

“How so?” You asked as you motioned for the two of you to start gathering your things.

“You're the center of my universe.”

You were pretty sure the lower levels could hear your laugh echo against the walls. “Oh my god.”

“Or maybe that just makes you the sun,” he said to you in a singsong tone while trailing after you.

“I’m walking home, Younghoon.”

“You can try, sunshine.”

EPISODE SIX: THE ONE WHERE IT GETS WORSE

MURPHY'S Law stated that “anything that can go wrong will go wrong,” with an adage of “at the worst possible time.” You needed to have words with this Murphy.

You were now in the thralls of midterm season. It was common knowledge and experience among STEM students that once midterm season began, it didn't stop until finals hit. You hadn't even realized how fast midterms had arrived until it was pouncing on you like a predator in the brush. You were currently being torn apart by the jaws of a hungry lion called Life.

“I haven't finished the grant app, Kkura.” You stared at the white wall behind your desk with a blank glaze over your eyeballs. There were sticky notes and pieces of paper tacked there with reminders and diagrams like they were makeshift whiteboards, but you weren't looking at them.

“My aerothermo exam is in two days,” you continued on in a droning voice, “and the internship interview is the day after.”

You spun around in your chair to face where Sakura was perched crisscrossed on your bed with a sympathetic frown. The internship addition was a new one. You had sent in your application a couple months ago, and results of applicants who had passed to the interview phase were only recently released. While you were relieved beyond measure that you made it, the interview couldn't have come at a worse time.

“Well,” she began, “we already decided that I'm going to help you prepare for the interview, Yn. The grant app isn't due for another month. All you need to worry about right now is the aerothermo exam, right?”

When she put it that way… “You're right,” you sighed and lifted your hands up to dig the heels of your palm into your eyes. Sometimes it just took an outside perspective to knock a little logic into you.

The Star Trek theme song blared from your phone, and you both startled at the abruptness. You fumbled for the device, then quickly picked up the phone call when you saw that it was from your mom. “Hi, mom. Everything okay?”

“Your brother can't make it to the wedding.”

You made a face. “I'm guessing you don't mean Quincey…”

You could imagine the exasperation on your mom's face from the other side of the phone. “Yn, I call you because you're the logical one in the family.”

If only she knew what pain you were putting yourself through because of your current lack of sense. You leaned back in your chair, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Why can't Justin make it?” Justin was your eldest brother who had the divine French toast recipe.

“He's flying to Paris for his culinary school interview. You know I always tell that boy to double check his schedules—he never listens,” your mom exhaled sharply. You could hear the loud clatter of the dryer in the background; she must be doing laundry.

“Sounds like Justin,” you murmured. “So what's the problem? Can't we just go sans Justin?”

“We already RSVP'd with the seven of us, and your cousin already paid for the reception meal in full. We can't have an empty, wasted seat, Yn-ah.”

You frowned. You supposed that would be a problem then. “Why don't we just find someone to bring along as a plus-one?”

“That's what I was thinking,” she replied. “I was going to invite Rian, you know, the boy from next door.”

Somehow, your mood managed to sour further. You and Sakura made eye contact, and she tilted her head to the side in question. You gave her an emphatic thumb's down before replying to your mom, “Wait—can we—mom, can we not invite Rian?” You dragged your free hand down the side of your face, and you saw Sakura grimace when you said that guy's name.

“Why not?”

“Be… because,” you stammered, pushing out a sigh when you weren't sure how to describe your incredible disdain for your childhood next-door neighbor. He was your age, and fortunately, you were never matchmade with him. Unfortunately, he was a jerk with inferiority issues and delighted in competing with you in everything. “He wouldn't want to come with,” you said lamely. His presence would do the exact opposite of soothing your anxiety.

Sakura gestured with her hands. Tell her he's full of shit!

Oh, you wished.

“Yn.” Your mother could smell lies, even through the phone. “I wouldn't know who else to invite.”

“Daphne's partner!” You exclaimed desperately. Daphne was your older sister who attended another college on the other side of the city getting her master's degree. “Can't we invite Sam?”

“Sam's in Vietnam in December.”

“Goddamn it.”

“Yn.”

“Sorry.” Dear fuck, you were slipping. You needed a solution—anything at all. Something to put out one fire, even temporarily. “What if I came up with a plus one?” You regretted it immediately.

“Oh, like Sakura? I wouldn't mind if you brought her.”

Anyone but Rian, anyone but Rian. “Yeah,” you drawled. “That's who I had in mind.” You lifted your head to meet your friend's eyes again, and she knitted her brows in confusion. You mouthed that you would tell her in a moment.

When you and your mom hung up, you deflated in your chair, dropping your phone onto your chest. “I'm fucked.”

“Hit me with it.”

“I told her I would bring you to the wedding with us.”

Sakura sat there for a moment to process the information. “Yn, honey, I'm going to be in Japan in December.”

“I know,” you cried.

“Who are you bringing then?”

“I don't know.”

Murphy of Murphy's Law had better sleep with one eye open.

It was likely in your worst interest to be at the convenience store at midnight rather than in your bed asleep, attempting to let your brain process the concepts from your aerothermodynamics course. Against your better judgment, though, you were here, slumped over your usual table and seat as you watched YouTube and sipped on a box of chocolate milk.

In the distance, the door opened and closed, but the sound was muffled through your earbuds. Out of your peripherals, someone materialized next to you. You peered up at the tall man beside you now, blocking out the fluorescent LEDs from burning your eyes. “Hey,” you said quietly.

Younghoon took in your state with sad eyes. “I got your text.”

“I didn't think you'd be awake.” Didn't he have a rehearsal tomorrow morning? Or rather, later this morning.

“Well, I'm glad I was awake, for starters.” He frowned and then leaned over you to gently wrap you up in his arms. “Rough night?”

Your face was buried in the fabric of his hoodie. This was nice. “Rough everything.”

“Ah, one of those,” he sympathized. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not really. Thank you for coming though.” You leaned back and patted the empty seat next to you. “Wanna watch squirrels with me?”

You watched his expression falter and fill with surprised amusement with a pinch of confusion. “Did you—you just said squirrels, right?”

“Yeah, they're competing in a backyard Olympics for this trophy of walnuts.”

He sat down with you to watch the squirrels. In your free time, you liked watching engineering or science-type videos on the internet. Most of them were as educational as they were entertaining, like the backyard squirrel series, where this man used his mechanical engineering degree to build advanced obstacles to test and observe the vast capabilities of the squirrel.

You shared your earbud with Younghoon so he could listen, and you were now connected by a wire. He mimicked your position, too, with his chin nestled onto his folded arms over the tabletop.

You weren't sure what possessed him to drive all the way over here at such an ungodly hour of night, but you were grateful for his company, nonetheless. Even if it felt like the sky was falling, you could let this moment in time exist outside the conventional timeline. It could be its own singular moment, just you and Younghoon.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered how it all came back to this. You'd never thought you were meant to see him again after tutoring him, let alone having spent so much time with him again these past few weeks. If you didn't belong in his world, and vice versa, then what was this?

You swore the monotonous buzzing from the lights above was making your eyelids slowly fall with the weight of lead.

Younghoon's eyes fluttered over to you just as you were about to doze off. He sat up and turned the video off. “Hey,” he whispered, gently shaking your arm.

You hummed, the bags under your eyes becoming worse by the second. “Huh?”

He chuckled under his breath as you put your head back down. “We can watch this another day,” he promised, patting your head. “We should get you home though so you can sleep.”

“Oh my gosh,” you groaned and picked yourself up, “you have rehearsal tomorrow morning—what time is it?”

“Hey, don't worry about it, love.” He was wrapping your earbud wire around his fingers into a neat, little bundle. “I'll be fine. Let's go home, though, yeah?”

You pressed your palms to your eyes in a desperate attempt to rehydrate them. “Okay, yeah. Sorry, Hoon.”

“Don't say sorry,” he cooed, pressing your earbuds into the palm of your hand and tucking your phone into your pocket. “I felt a lot better meeting you here. Do you feel a little better?”

You gave a small nod. Your brain was too muddled, too exhausted, to really comprehend what was being expressed as plain as the sun at high noon on his face.

“Then that's all that matters.” There was a pause. Your vision was blurry for the second that his eyes wandered somewhere else. You didn't know if you just didn't see it or if you just chose to not acknowledge it.

Then the moment passed, as all things did in the flow of nature, and he walked you home.

EPISODE SEVEN: PARTY PEOPLE (BBANGNYU'S VERSION)

“CHANHEE?”

Choi Chanhee swirled the straw of his melted iced americano around in its cup. “Yup.”

“Who would you invite to a wedding?” You posed, twirling around the mechanical pencil in your hand between your fingers. You didn't even know why you still had the writing utensil out—everyone had pretty much gone home for the evening.

He released a sigh indicative of a very tired data science major, who doubled-majored in math. “The person I'm marrying? I dunno.”

You and Chanhee were stuck with the late shift at the math tutoring center on a Monday night. The crowd usually cleared out by nine o'clock, but the two of you weren't technically allowed to leave until nine-thirty. Most nights when you were stuck with this shift, you and he didn't mind the quiet in order to finish assignments of your own.

Jungwoo would have been here to suffer with you, too, but he had an excuse tonight. Something about an emergency at the NCT fraternity house.

You blew a puff of air through your mouth. “Not your wedding; just a wedding. One that you're invited to.”

“You're not inviting me, are you?”

“You don't wanna be my plus one for a wedding?” You grinned.

“Depends…” He hummed pleasantly, “what're they serving?” That was a valid question that you lacked an answer to.

In front of you on your laptop screen sat your incomplete space grant application. After the hell that was last week, you somehow survived it by the seat of your pants. Now, you needed to focus on your two other exams for this week, the wedding debacle, this grant app, and praying that the interview had gone as well as you thought it had.

So many things to think about, so little brain cells.

You glanced over at the corner of your laptop screen to see how much time you had left to try and be productive. From the corner of your eye, you saw the swift movements of Chanhee's thumbs flying over his phone keyboard.

You turned to your application to read over your responses for the ten thousandth time. “Who've you been texting all night, Chanhee?”

“Huh? Oh, my best friend.”

You hummed. “The one that goes to the uni across the country, right?”

His response was cut off by the sound of the tutoring center doors opening. Both of you looked up in tandem, mentally bracing yourselves for—

“Younghoon?”

There was a weird fluttery feeling in your chest as he beamed at the both of you and bounded over from the front doors. “Hey guys! I was just walking past and thought I would swing by.”

Chanhee's eyebrows flew all the way up to his pink hairline. “Yes, because it makes complete sense why you would be meandering around south campus at nine o'clock at night,” he quipped.

Younghoon seemed, to his credit, unbothered by Chanhee pointing out the obvious. He stole one of the chairs from another table and sat down across from you and Chanhee. “You guys don't play any music when everyone's gone?”

“Sometimes we do,” you replied, glancing up from your computer screen before replacing your word choice somewhere.

Chanhee nodded his agreement as he set his phone down on the table and laced his fingers under his chin. “Oh, Younghoon-ah, I've been meaning to discuss something with you.”

Younghoon perked up. “What's up?”

“What're we gonna do about your friend and my friend?”

You figured out pretty quickly that you had no idea what they were talking about. Even after having played Monopoly with some of them a few weeks ago, it still hadn't hit you as to the full-scale of these two guys’ shared social circles. Sure, you orbited some friend groups of a decent size, but it felt like they all hung out with each other at least once a week.

“Ah,” Younghoon drawled with a knowing sparkle in his eyes, “Jacob and JC!Yn, right? I don't know; I find it kind of amusing.”

Chanhee frowned. A furrow had formed between his brows. “If amusing means to the extent where I'd like to rip my hair out, that is. Did you know that Jacob sent me to go intervene when Jaehyun was talking to JC!Yn at the hot tub?”

“Wait, really?”

“Mhm.” Chanhee made a vague flourish with his wrist in the air. “And did you see how they were at the movie night on Saturday?”

Younghoon pressed his lips together. “I did see that. He kept looking over when Juyeon was braiding her hair,” he chuckled.

“I am at odds, Younghoon-ah!” Chanhee groaned into his palms. “I just need them to kiss already and get it over with.”

“So you wanna meddle?”

“I'm not saying we should meddle, but…” He drawled with cheeky, puckered lips and his palms open upward. His gaze went to you on his right side, and he knocked the back of his knuckles against your arm. “Oy, Yn-ah. What do you think?”

You hummed and drew your eyes up from your laptop screen, meeting Younghoon's gaze first. Glancing over to the friend who addressed you, you said, “What are we talking about?”

“Girl, you need to get off that grant app.”

“This grant app needs to get off me,” you shot back. “I need it to be perfect, Chanhee.”

“Nothing is perfect, Yn,” he told you. “You know what you should do? You should ask JC!Yn to look over it. That might ease your mind.”

“I'll think about it,” you said at last in order to appease him. The smart thing would've been to heed his advice and ask his friend to proofread it. Perhaps you would later this week.

“Good. Anyways, I was asking you what you thought about how to matchmake our two friends,” resumed Chanhee. He tucked his limbs inward as he spun around in his chair.

“You’re going to have to give me more context than that.” Besides that, were you really the best option to ask for advice? You weren't in a relationship, and now that you thought about it, neither were the two of them.

You saw Chanhee and Younghoon exchange glances and there seemed to be a silent conversation taking place between the two of them. At last, Younghoon gave his counterpart a flourishing gesture with his hand as if saying 'all yours.’ Chanhee cleared his throat. “So Younghoon's friend Kevin, who is Jacob's best friend, introduced JC!Yn to Jacob.”

“And we're pretty sure they like each other,” Younghoon added on. “There was this pool party a couple weekends ago, and they came to the party together. This past weekend, they looked pretty cozy at the movie night that Jacob and Kevin hosted at their apartment, too.”

You had only ever met JC!Yn once in passing, and it was because Chanhee forgot his calculator at the library right before an exam, and she had been the champion to deliver it to him in the examination hall lobby. She was a real one, that was for sure.

You pursed your lips and rested your chin on your fist. “Aren't all of you guys single?” Was what you led with.

Chanhee deadpanned. “That's not the point…”

“I do have to point that out though because you ask me like I would know what to do,” you laughed, vaguely gesturing back to yourself. “I'm just as single as the rest of you.”

The two boys’ eyes whipped back to one another for a millisecond, before looking away.

You nearly leapt to your feet, exclaiming, “I saw that! What was that?”

“Nothing,” they answered at once. They did realize it made them look all the more conspicuous, right?

“We just realized that not all of us are single,” Younghoon raced to smooth over his and Chanhee's fib. “My friend Sangyeon—”

Chanhee snorted, “Hyunjae told me he doesn't believe him.”

“And you believe Hyunjae?”

“Touché.”

You unconsciously began spinning your pencil around your fingers again. “Wait, so Sangyeon is cuffed?”

Younghoon turned to you to explain. Apparently, his original group of friends that didn't include Chanhee's extension, kept a running joke that Sangyeon was either making up his girlfriend or was keeping her stashed on a secret island in the Bahamas. None of them had seen any evidence that she truly existed, but Younghoon wasn't convinced that Sangyeon was the type of person to go through all of this strife just to prove a point.

After all of that, you were more confused than before. “But why wouldn't he just show you a picture of her and prove that he met this girl?”

“That's what I'm saying,” Chanhee interjected, flinging his arms up in the air. “It would be so easy to just silence us with a little picture!”

Younghoon, clearly amused by the discourse taking place, leaned back in his chair with a shrug. “Beats me. I personally think it's because she works for a secret government agency, which is why she can't exist online.”

Chanhee's expression flattened. “Uh-huh.”

“But Juyeon says that it's probably because if he only shows a picture, we might accuse him of Photoshop,” Younghoon continued. “Which, in retrospect, says a lot about his faith in us.”

You made a face, your eyebrows arching high. “Oh, for sure.”

Debating on conspiracy theories about mystery girlfriends made the last thirty minutes of yours and Chanhee's shift fly by fast. Suffice to say, you hadn’t worked on your application nearly as much as you wanted to, but you were entertained for thirty minutes, which was just as well. Didn’t doctors say that it was good to laugh at least three times a day…? Good thing you weren’t going into medicine.

The three of you started packing everything up at exactly nine-thirty. There was no reason to stay any longer when there was literally no one else here anyway.

As you shoved your laptop into your backpack, Younghoon knocked on the table in front of you. “Wanna grab dinner after this?”

You opened your mouth to reply when Chanhee beat you to it. He hadn’t seen Younghoon grab your attention, and didn’t know who he was addressing. “Oh, that’s nice of you to as—”

“I meant Yn.”

You closed your eyes and sank your teeth into your bottom lip to have some dignity left (read: not start wheezing). Chanhee’s eyes had gone wide, eyebrows rocketing back up to his hairline. He scoffed, “Wow.”

Younghoon grinned cheekily. “Sorry, Chanhee. We have a routine.”

With Chanhee now thoroughly offended, your little trio filed out of the tutoring center. You locked the doors up behind you once you flicked off all the lights in the room. The walk down in south campus was arguably nicer than north campus, even if you were a little biased because this was where you considered your “turf” to be. South campus was much better illuminated than north campus with pretty, little lamp posts and five different styles of architecture from building to building. You were sure it was an eyesore to any of the architecture majors here, but they were interesting to look at when you were suffering in the engineering library. (And at least they had windows.)

You took up the position in between Younghoon and Chanhee, the latter of whom seemed to let his pettiness about the rejected dinner date go.

“Guys,” Younghoon suddenly said. The corner of his lips were turned upward in a degree you could only define as mischievous. “What is the most terrifying word in physics?”

You scrunched your brows together. There was no way you should get this wrong, but then again, physics wasn't exactly a subject where anyone got everything right—

“Oops.”

You snorted, and beside you, Chanhee's lip wobbled as he desperately held in a reaction. You couldn't believe you didn't see this coming and tried to think about it logically.

Younghoon shoved his hands in his pockets and swiped his tongue over his lower lip through a smile. “Aw, come on! I cracked up when I heard that one in a TikTok for the first time.”

“I've just heard some of your better ones,” you confessed. “Chanhee, did I tell you that Younghoon used to wax poetic to study for calc?”

Chanhee's mouth curled up into an amused little smile. “You did! I think it's cute.”

“You know, I think it's cute, too.”

In the dim lighting from the nearby lamp posts, Younghoon's cheekbones flushed something rosy. “You flatter me.”

As the three of you climbed up the stairs that would bring you to main campus, Chanhee piped up, “What if we just slipped Jacob and JC!Yn notes from the other person?”

You shook your head. “Not this again.”

“I'm serious!” He said in earnest. “It would just be innocent, little pick-up lines or something. Nothing like a whole ass confession.”

“We're reading Much Ado About Nothing in my Shakespeare lecture right now,” said Younghoon, “and the cast does something similar to one of the couples they're trying to get together. Sounds kind of fun, to be honest.”

“Not you, too!”

Younghoon slung an arm around your shoulders and flourished his free arm out toward the heavens. There was a pleasant feeling attached to the weight of his arm around you. “C’mon, use that mastermind brain of yours and imagine! Jacob's would just say something like—I dunno—if I whispered in thine ear that thou hast a body of beauty, wouldst thou hold it against me?”

“Wow,” you marveled, ignoring the amount of fluttering happening in your stomach, “that was pretty good.”

He flashed you a boyish smile. ��Thank you.”

“But you're not doing it.”

The boys on either side of you released twin groans of anguish into the night, as if their mother had just denied them access to their Xbox for the evening. You rolled your eyes lightly. “I feel like relationships are like spontaneous processes—they’ll get to the right configuration eventually, organically. In other words, we should leave them be and let them figure it out for themselves.” You walked in front and turned around to face them so you could pin them both down with a firm look.

Younghoon raised his arms up in playful surrender. “Promise we won't meddle.”

“I hate when you use entropy statistics against me.” Chanhee gave a reluctant nod, sighing once again, “But I agree. We won’t meddle.”

EPISODE EIGHT: DON'T ASK ME THE COLOR OF ANYTHING

IT was the Star Trek theme song that blasted you out of your study bubble. In retrospect, the theme song was quite a subdued piece compared to something like the Star Wars theme, but for some reason you thought it was a good idea to turn the volume all the way up for your ringer whenever you were home. (God forbid you accidentally left it on when you were in class…) From your desk, you scooted over to grab your phone from where it was on your bed. Younghoon's caller ID beamed its cute smile up at you—the picture you'd set was of him and his dog from home, Bori. You had yet to meet Bori, but when you asked him for a picture for his contact photo, he sent this one.

You accepted the call. “Hello?”

“I just realized I pressed Call instead of Facetime. Please accept the Facetime thingy.”

Why did he sound so cute? You lifted the phone away from your ear and saw the request on the screen. While pressing the green accept button, you said to him, “What if I said no?”

“Then it must be Opposite Day,” he sang from the other side of the screen, his face manifesting before you. He was holding his phone up above him so you could see he was lying down in bed, his dark hair strewn over the pillow beneath his head. His initial smile widened to reach his eyes when your side of the screen loaded and he could see you. “There she is.”

“Hi Hoon,” you greeted with a small chuckle. You looked around your cluttered workspace for a place to prop your phone up against.

“What're you up to?” He asked while he adjusted himself to sit up against his headboard.

“I—” you made a sound of accomplishment as your phone stayed upright in the space between your desk lamp and a pebble paperweight painted like a rocket that your little sister made you, “—am brushing up on fluid mechanics.”

“Aah… fluid mechanics.” You could hear the slight intonation in his words.

“Don't say the joke.”

“I wasn't gonna say the joke!” He giggled. When he calmed, he pressed his mouth in a smile and made his cheeks look as squishy as a loaf of bread. “Is this a bad time though?”

You shook your head, slipping your pencil behind your ear so you could lace your fingers beneath your chin. “No, it’s not a bad time. This isn’t super important; I just didn’t want old material to jumpscare me when I go into our quiz this week.”

Younghoon nodded in understanding. “I see, I see. That means it’s good that I interrupted your workaholic tendencies.”

You glanced away with your hand half covering your face, and it coaxed a laugh from him that seemed to warm the room. You sputtered, “In my defense—” you paused, your lips parted; it hit you then that you had no defense.

His eyes were the shapes of upturned crescent moons, like shallow bowls filled with mirth. “It’s cute when you try to deny it.”

“It’s not denial—I didn’t deny it,” you pointed out.

“Uh-huh,” he snorted, completely unconvinced, “whatever you say, Miss Mastermind. I should call you Miss Workaholic instead.”

“Aish,” you chided weakly. You glanced down at the old notes that were splayed out before you on your desk. All of the concepts were relatively familiar to you; it was just to refresh yourself. To be frank, though, it wasn’t like you’d spent all evening reviewing old material. Every thirty minutes or so, you could spend another half hour on your phone, getting lost in the entertainment there. You weren’t that much of a workaholic.

You realized that there had been a pregnant moment of silence just then, and when you looked back over at the phone screen, found him watching you with a certain look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. You cleared your throat, reaching up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear and to take the pencil there down. “So, uhm, any reason in particular for calling?”

His eyelashes fluttered as he blinked, as if snapping out of a daze. “Hm? Oh, not really. I just wanted to see what you were up to.” He cocked his head to the side in thought. “Random question, but are you doing anything for Halloween?”

Ah, you nearly forgot that was coming up. With all of the chaos happening in your life at the moment, Halloween was the last thing on your mind.

“Not at the moment,” you told him. You mused, “I don’t think I’ve done anything proper for Halloween since I moved out of my childhood house.” Going Trick-or-Treating as an adolescent was definitely a core memory for you, and was still a prevalent tradition in your household because of the little ones, Sadie and Quincey. As you got older, however, you usually opted to stay at home and answer the door to hand out candy. You still dressed up for the fun of it, and decorating the house was always half the joy of the holiday. You always considered trying to build some kind of candy contraption or maybe setting up a haunted maze in the front lawn, but alas, maybe in the future. “What about you?”

“Well, there’s that party that Changmin and Chanhee are hosting at their place.”

That rang a bell. “Ohh, shit. I totally forgot about that.” Chanhee had mentioned something about that the other night at the tutoring center, but you didn’t make any promises about attending—he knew your crowd preferences, so he didn’t push it. You were sure his and his friend’s parties were a blast though.

Younghoon shifted his lounging position, so now he was laying on his stomach with his legs kicking up from behind him. “Would you wanna come with? I remember that you went to that party with Sakura in September, but I wasn’t sure if you were going to come to this one.”

You tapped the end of your pencil against the pages of your notebook. “I’m not really sure,” you confessed. “I think I originally didn’t plan on going.”

“Ah.”

Guilt swirled around in the pit of your stomach at the disappointment in his voice. “I’m sorry; I probably sound like such a party pooper.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” he rushed to assure you. “I get that it might not be something you’re into, and that’s completely fine, you know? I think it would be fun to go with you, but not if you wouldn’t have fun there.”

You inhaled deeply. “I mean… it’s not that I don’t think I would have fun once I—y’know, drank something—but yeah, I think a night of just horror movies or something will do me better.”

He nodded and carded a hand through his hair. “Of course; I understand. And your schedule’s been pretty packed lately, so it’ll be like a little break for you,” he offered.

“Yeah, thanks, Hoon.” You shot him a small smile. It was really cool that he was being so understanding, but you shouldn’t have anticipated anything less from Kim Younghoon. He’d always been this cool.

You learned to read the room, and the energy definitely was lower than before. “Do you know what you’re gonna go dressed as?” You asked in hopes of bringing that energy back up.

He perked up a bit at the question. “I—actually, I have no idea,” he chuckled. “I was thinking a vampire, but I feel like that should just be saved as my backup. That idea’s a little tired.”

Younghoon as a vampire—? Wake up, Yn. You laughed to yourself as a thought popped into your head. “It would be so funny if you showed up as Bill Nye the Science Guy.”

He snorted. “That's not a bad idea. I'm not a science guy, but I am an actor.”

“Hey, there you go,” you said. You pursed your lips. “Hm… I feel like your face is too pretty to fuck up—”

“Thanks?” He guffawed, hand propping his head up. “I'm scared to ask you what that even means.” You didn’t want to tell him exactly what you had in mind, but it seemed that he beat you to a punchline. “To be honest, I'd so let you fuck up my face.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Hyunjae? Hyunjae, is that you?” Younghoon called out behind him toward his closed bedroom door. His ears were rosy as blood, and he was biting his lip through a grin. “I've gotta go, Yn-ie. Byeee!”

“Younghoon, hey! Don't hang—”

He hung up. You took a moment to collect yourself after what he said, as if you could even begin to unpack its meaning.

You could hear the partygoers even from the relative serenity of the back corner of the convenience store. It was Halloween night, and when the sun sank down into the horizon to signal the coming of night, so too did it mark the beginning of the Hallow's Eve festivities.

You had just dropped Sakura off at one of her friends’ house for a party, and she would text you later when she was done. The plan tonight was originally to chill at home and watch scary movies, but you instead found yourself at your second home with your laptop playing The Nightmare Before Christmas. On your head sat a deep purple colored witch's hat on a headband, with glittery black tulle creating a skirt at its base. Even if you didn't dress up completely, you would still pop on a bit of holiday spirit.

With you was a 6-pack of Halloween themed mini cupcakes and a carton of strawberry milk. They would function as your popcorn for the movie and your candy for the night.

From beside you on the table, your phone buzzed. You could see the words diffuse rapidly onto your screen, your eyes snagging on the parts where your older sister was asking about Sakura coming to the wedding even though she was supposed to be in Japan. Your eyes widened as you scrambled to text back. Fuck, the wedding. You texted back a very fast, ‘uhm abt that.’

daphne: ykw don't tell me anything ignorance is bliss daphne: okay what i came here to do originally… daphne: *sent images* your phone: awwwh how cute!! wait wtf since when was quincey into power rangers 😭😭 daphne: dear god don't get me started

You laughed and sent her a final text back commenting about the pictures she sent of her, Sam, Sadie, and Quincey all dressed up to go Trick-or-Treating tonight. As usual, your family extended an invitation to you, but you declined for this year.

“Damn, I should've dressed up like the power rangers.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sudden voice right by your ear, and you ripped your earbud out, whipping around to see who it was. There was Younghoon, laughing at your expense with a very amused smile flitting over his face from your reaction.

About five different emotions passed over you at once, preventing you from coming up with an adequate response to his sudden appearance. Your mouth, frankly, had gone dry. His hair was colored and highlighted with strands of platinum silver, artfully arranged around a pair of black sunglasses atop his head. He was clad in all black—the leather jacket seated on his shoulders embellished with white detailing, and his skin glimmering with silver chains. He had on a pair of motorcycle gloves that he was now shucking off, and you realized his lips were a shade darker than they usually were—wait… were they moving?

“—Yn. Yn-iee—”

You blinked long and hard. “Yeah. I'm here.”

The corner of his lips curled upward. “I just said I was sorry for sneaking up on you.”

“Oh.” Wait, he smelled so good right now… Not that he didn't smell good every other day, but…

“Oh,” he parroted with a cock of his eyebrow. “So, what do you think?” He asked the question you didn't even realize you would fear him to ask, and gestured down to the outfit. Younghoon sighed and it sounded half like a laugh. “I feel ridiculous actually. Hyunjae was like—you should do the biker thing with me. And I was like, what do you mean 'biker thing?’ Apparently this is the biker thing.”

You were slapping yourself across the face internally to say something. “You went from Prius driver to motorcycle rider.”

Younghoon nearly keeled over and had to turn to the side to laugh. “I still am a Prius driver,” he said sheepishly.

Your eyes flickered up and down his form again, unable to string together words once more. “Uhm, your hair is silver.”

“Excellent observation.” He reached over and poked the little witch hat on top of your head. “This is cute, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you said with a smile, reaching up to touch either side of the headband. “I'm just here waiting for Kkura.”

“Oh, are you guys watching something together?”

You shook your head and turned back to your computer screen to wake it up. “No, I volunteered to be her chauffeur tonight. She's at a party right now, but I figured since I had time to kill, I could chill here.”

“It feels like a crime for you to be here all alone,” he said with one of his hands braced against the back of your chair and the other on the table next to your laptop. He was leaning over you now to peer at your screen because the brightness of the store lights made it difficult to see from where he stood, but it made him all the more apparent to your senses.

Goddamn, he was everywhere. “Well, I should be asking you as to why you're here,” you said with a cough. “Don't you have a party to go to, Biker Boy?”

He chuckled at the nickname and stood back up. “I do, but Chanhee and Changmin forgot to get triple A batteries for their battery-operated creepy candy bowl,” he said. “But I'm glad I was sent out to run an errand now.”

You shifted your mouth to the side in a sorry attempt to hide your contentment with that answer. “I'm glad, too. You—the costume looks good, by the way.”

Younghoon sat down in his usual seat across from you. “Thank you,” he replied, pleased. “I almost went out as a loaf of bread. Did you know Party City has these bread loaf costumes that you can wear around your head?”

“I'm not surprised at all,” you said, shaking your head in amusement.

You found yourself unhappy with the idea of Younghoon leaving after this. Once your conversation was over, you would go back to your movie and he would go back to his party. Before, you didn't mind the idea of having an evening to yourself, but with him right here in front of you, it was difficult to go back.

Him being here with you felt right. You couldn't explain why you felt that way. He looked like he was about to say something, and you rushed to beat him to it. “Want a cupcake?” You blurted. Before you could go back on your words, you gently pried a miniature cupcake out from its containment and offered it to him.

Younghoon lit up, delicately transferring the treat to his own hands. “I wasn't going to ask, but don't mind if I do. Thanks, Yn.”

You hummed happily as he peeled off the cupcake wrapper and took a generous bite. He did a little happy dance in his seat, and you smiled half into your fist as you leaned part of your cheek onto it.

“That's actually so good,” he said with wide, confused eyes as he reached toward the furthest end of the table for a napkin in the aluminum canister. “Why haven't I tried those before? I think I'm gonna have to take some back.”

“I don't have them often, but they are quite the guilty pleasure,” you agreed. “I would totally sponsor a couple packs for you to take to the party.”

Younghoon made a nodding motion with his head as he dabbed the napkin over his lips. He pulled the napkin away to inspect it, frowning. “Shit, I need to reapply,” he murmured and fished around in his jacket pocket for a tube of the shade that he had wiped off his lips.

Some force from the universe compelled you to do something fucking stupid. “I can help.” No, you can't! Why would you say that, why would you say—

Surprise flickered across his face. “Oh? Sure, I'd appreciate it,” he said, and held the lip gloss out to you. It was a muted brown-ish pink color that would leave a stain of itself upon the wearer's lips, but also had an initial glossy appearance.

With no room for backpedaling, you stood up and took the lip product from him. You stood before him now, between his legs with his hands resting on his knees.

He peered up at you through his dark lashes, lips parted gently.

You wiped the excess product off the doe foot applicator against the rim of the packaging, and then smeared the product over his bottom lip. You took your finger to smudge the color around, making quick work with a second layer for shine. When you were done, you hadn't even realized you'd been holding your breath the whole time. You passed the lip product back to him quietly. “All done,” you whispered.

He didn't even look at your handiwork—he didn't need to. He smiled; you thought you saw him steal a glance at some place other than your eyes. “Thanks, love.”

You were right before when you thought you would dread him leaving. He did go, at some point, after retrieving what he had come here for along with at least three half-dozen containers of cupcakes. He sent you a wave from the door, and then he was gone into the night.

You sat there without doing much or thinking anything for a moment or two, your fingertips stained with the color of his lips.

Regret wormed a hole through your stomach, and it felt like it was gaping wide open. Maybe you should've gone to the party, or maybe you should have asked him to stay. Maybe you should have said something different, and maybe… maybe you should have…

Kissed him?

Your eyes stared unblinkingly at the seat across the table from you, and you arrived at a truth you could no longer ignore.

your phone: how do u know u like a guy

kkuramon <3 : IM LEAVING THIS PARTY RIGHT NOW.

EPISODE NINE: ARE YOU A CHICKEN, YN? I DIDN'T THINK SO!

“I'M not going to tell him.”

“Yn,” Sakura said gravely with a deep inhale, “for the last time, are you a chicken?”

You blinked. “I'm sorry, wha—”

“Bawk bawk. Are you a chicken?”

You narrowed your eyes slightly at her. It was a crazy image, this view of your best friend, as she stood in front of you with her futuristic spacecore outfit from the Halloween party she left early, squawking like a chicken. “I think you are drunk.”

Sakura deadpanned. “I'm not drunk.”

“And I'm in denial.”

“Oh, good. So you admit it.”

After rapid discourse in your texts, you went to pick Sakura up from her party, then brought her straight home so you could both deconstruct what exactly you concluded while at the convenience store. You recalled everything that happened while Younghoon was there with you, reliving that exact moment it hit you square in the face like an oncoming train.

And now you were here, being asked if you were a chicken and being accused of denial.

You huffed. “I can't just tell him that I like him! It's not—it’s not that big of a deal. It's not like I'm in love with him or anything!” You… you weren't in love, were you…?

Sakura braced both hands on her hips. “You say it's not a big deal, but here we are,” she said with a vague gesture to your bedroom. “Honey,” she continued, but softer, “whether you're in love with him or you just like him more than a friend, it's something. It's different. Are you sure you never felt anything for him before? Not even unconsciously?”

“I mean—” you started, “—I might have. I probably have,” you corrected, cradling your chin in your palm. “I thought he was really cool when I met him last year, but I think that was just one of those silly crushes, y'know? Like the ones you get on people you pass by and know you probably won't meet again?”

She hummed and lowered herself onto the edge of your bed. “Yeah, I get that.”

You scooted your desk chair over to where she was and flopped face first over your bed with a groan. You felt her hand gently smooth down the back of your head. “I dunno, Kkura. Maybe I've always felt something different about him.”

“That could be it,” she said. “And you just didn't realize until it was in your face. Sometimes it sneaks up on you.”

If that wasn't the understatement of the century.

“Why are you so scared of telling him, Yn-ie? From everything I've seen and heard from you, it feels like he probably feels the same way.”

“I'm biased.”

Sakura exhaled. “Logic your way out of this one.”

“Okay, if I logic my way out of this one, I could still get rejected.”

You could feel her eyes roll, even with your face smooshed into the sheets. “I know the prospect of all this is scary, but it's meant to be. That means you care, Yn. That means you care about your friendship with Younghoon, and that's inherently a good thing.”

When you didn't say anything else in response, she added, “You know your feelings will intensify if you leave them unaddressed. Murphy's Law.”

You hated when she was right.

You didn't see Younghoon for at least another week. Once Halloween had gone and passed, November hit everyone in one big fell swoop. Midterms the Sequel was abound, and it did not choose mercy. But amongst the abundance of fires cropping up, you managed to spray some water on a couple to keep the flames tame. (Do not do this to real fires; it won't help.)

It was the middle of the week when you and Younghoon agreed to meet back at the convenience store to hang out. Over the past few days, you kept your interactions with him over text and call as normal as possible, even though you felt like your newly realized feelings were glaringly obvious. If Younghoon thought you were being awkward though, he didn't say.

You and Sakura were in the kitchen right before you were about to take off to head to the convenience store. She was busy making a late lunch (read: dinner); you were busy worrying about everything.

“I've got an idea,” she said, raising the spatula in her hand into the air. “You should bring Younghoon to the wedding.”

You nearly choked on air. “I'm sorry? Say that again.”

With her back turned to you, she gave an emphasized shrug. “If you insist. I was suggesting that you bring Younghoon to the wedding instead of me. It would be killing two birds with one stone.”

“How in the world is that killing two birds with one stone?”

“Well, when you inevitably confess your feelings to him, and he confesses that he reciprocates, you will then have a date for the wedding.” She turned the stove off before twirling around on her slippered-heel, a proud smile on her face. “Ta-da!”

“I just think that if—and big emphasis on if—we do end up together, a wedding would be a lot as an outing.” You imagined how horrific and intimidating that would be, meeting your entire family and extended family after only just deciding to try out dating someone. Even thinking about it sounded overwhelming beyond means, and you couldn't do that to Younghoon.

She angled her head to the side. “But this is Younghoon we're talking about. He literally went to the Space Gala with you on short notice and made you feel safe and comfortable the whole time.”

You sent her a pointed look. “That's not the same thing and you know it.”

She sighed. “Alright. Then what about driving over to meet you at the convenience store at midnight when he had an early rehearsal the next day? He calls you and texts you day and night; he drops by the tutoring center on your shifts to keep you company… I don't know what else you need to convince you.”

You didn't like the spark of hope she was lighting up in your chest. You didn't want to lose a good friend if you were reading him wrong. Was he not charismatic to everyone he met though?

At some point, you got your ass up and down the street. There was a soft tune playing in the background as you wandered through the aisles in search of something to distract you from the anxious racing of your heartbeat. Younghoon had sent you a heads up about an hour ago that he was going to be late because he was coming from an outing, so you had a little more time to mentally prepare. Maybe you would chalk up the courage to tell him. Maybe you really could do it. If you just ripped off the bandaid, whether it be for better or for worse, you could at least say you tried.

You made up your mind then, somewhere in the bread aisle between the wheat and rye.

By the time Younghoon arrived, out of breath and grinning from ear to ear, you managed to hype yourself up to tell him.

“Sorry I'm late,” he said between breaths as he claimed the seat across from you. He paused, sniffing, then grimacing. “And also for the fact that I reek of barbeque.”

“Don't worry about it,” you assured him, teasingly, “the only thing you should be sorry about is not inviting me.”

Younghoon laughed. “You're very right, as always. My friends and I were having an emergency meeting about Jacob and JC!Yn.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh? Any updates?”

He groaned then, burying his face into the palms of his hands. Uh oh. “They almost kissed until Eric interrupted them.”

“No,” you gasped.

“Yes!” He wailed in agony, eyes screwed closed with imaginary tears running down his cheeks. “It was painful to hear but it was also painful watching those two idiots interact at the table. My friends and I, minus JC!Yn and Jacob—we met a little beforehand to talk about what went down when Eric interrupted, and the lovebirds just came in later.” Younghoon huffed a rough sigh from his lips, partnered with a shake of his head. Then he broke into a smile, the corners of the expression soft, as he looked at you from across the table. He rested his cheek against his hand, chin inclining toward you, “So what's going on with you, hm? I feel like we haven't seen each other in ages.”

“We did call on Tuesday,” you pointed out.

He wrinkled his nose with a frown and shrugged. “It's not the same. I missed you.”

Your heart was beating so loud that you could count them out—thump, thump, thump— “I—missed you, too,” you said in earnest. Tell him, Yn. Tell him.

“You know, I think it's funny how we lost touch for so long, but we eventually came back together,” he murmured as he absentmindedly traced out shapes along the table top. “I guess if it's meant to be, then it'll be.”

The way he worded it… you were spinning yourselves in circles in your head trying to define it, to crack it open and solve it like you could a word problem. If the rotator wheel spins at a velocity of—but at this point, you were certain that you could figure out one of those much faster than this. “Yeah,” you agreed quietly.

“Something on your mind, Yn?” He asked you then. His eyes returned to you and you were suddenly stuck. The earth stopped spinning for this single moment in time, all because of the way this man looked at you.

You swallowed. “I…” The words dissipated in your throat. You couldn't do it.

Younghoon waited patiently, though. He considered you and your wide eyes filled with something he didn't know how to label, and maybe a dash of another thing he hoped to find. “Why don't we take a walk?”

With no reason to refuse, you stood up from your seat with him. He smiled at you as he brushed his hand over your back to guide you to the door, then retracted it to tuck his hand into his pocket.

November had so far shown the city a brisk, deep autumn. The trees were already close to completely shedding their leaves for the oncoming winter, and they were often swept away by a cool draft. You zipped up your jacket as the two of you began walking in the direction opposite to your apartment. Whichever way the wind took you both, you supposed.

For the first time in a long time, you and Younghoon were quiet. You were trapped in your own head with the courage you had earlier having mysteriously disappeared. He seemed content enough to let you ponder on it and to speak whenever you were ready.

“My cousin is getting married,” you found yourself saying.

That didn't seem to be the thing he expected to come from your mouth. Surprise flashed across his features and he clambered for a response. “Oh, well, congratulations. When's the wedding?”

“Thanks.” You said, “It’s in December. I… you know I have a big family.”

“Right.” His gaze softened considerably. “I imagine it must be a lot for you then—a family event of that size.”

You realized that you didn't convey exactly what you wanted to get across, and yet, you were reminded again how much he cared. “Yeah,” you murmured. “My brother Justin isn't gonna be able to make it after we already RSVP'd under my immediate family of seven people, and so my mom and I are trying to find someone to fill that space. She wanted to invite this one guy—he was my next-door neighbor for some time. Not my favorite person in the world because he's kind of got it out for me,” you said next.

You were rounding the corner again to loop back down the street toward your apartment. The organ in your chest was flying against your ribcage now; there wasn't much time left to tell him. You could see the metaphorical sand in the glass draining.

“So you're not going to invite this guy then, right?”

You nodded. “And I offered up Sakura just to appease her for the time being, but Sakura's gonna be in Japan in December.”

Younghoon trapped his bottom lip between his teeth. “I see.”

“That's my… that's my dilemma.” No, that isn't your only dilemma, Yn! Tell him! But the apartment was coming up in view, and you would be at the entrance in just a few more minutes.

You and Younghoon slowed your pace as you rounded the block again to cross the street. When you glanced over at him, you swore you could see the conflict warring across his face. If he saw gears turn in your head, you could see a battle scene in his eyes.

“Is this all that's been bothering you?” He asked at last, and you didn't know what to do about the slight intonation in his voice, like he was hoping for something. “I'm not invalidating your stress or anything, I was just—you know, if you had anything else you needed to get off your chest—”

“No, it's just that.” You could practically hear Sakura clucking like a chicken from wherever she was. You quickly added as the apartment door came into view, “It's—it’s not a big deal—finding a plus one, I mean. I'll figure it out.”

Plus one. He'd been your plus one to the Space Gala, but this was different. This was so much more different than that.

But maybe your words sounded like a dismissal or he was thrown off today. He cupped the back of his neck with a small nod. “Okay. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thanks, Hoon.”

He smiled then, the same soft-cornered one that reached his eyes, and that you'd come to be familiar with. You couldn't imagine seeing that face reject your feelings even if you knew he would probably let you down easily.

EPISODE TEN: YOU SPELL PARALLELISM WITH THREE L'S BECAUSE THERE ARE THREE LOSERS

THE engineering library at nine o'clock at night was a familiar environment for you, Chanhee, and Jungwoo. Dead week—the week before finals—meant that it saw the three of you twice as much, even on the weekend before Dead week began. It didn't mean you got studying done though. Sometimes you were just there.

“You guys are so fake! How could I not be updated on every single microevent in your lives?” Jungwoo cried, gesticulating his hands around far too fast for your brain to comprehend. He was about three shots of espresso and five hours in, if that explained things. You were all aware that your habits were not healthy, but no college kid was. “And you call me your friend?”

The thing that had triggered this reaction from Jungwoo had been Chanhee's fault. Or maybe that was your fault. Either way, the topic somehow had gone from calculating your respective grades with probable curves (calculating failure, at this rate) to you and Younghoon.

You liked to argue there was no you and Younghoon—it was just you-comma-Younghoon. Chanhee had sassed back at you with a swift, “Oh, so she's an English major now?” As if English majors were the only ones who could understand grammar and punctuation.

Jungwoo, having had no context given whatsoever, realized quickly that he was out of the loop. Now, you were here.

“I demand the tea!” He screeched, hitting the palm of his hand against the table. Thank god there was no one else here to listen in or shush you and your friends. If there was one thing about the engineering library, it was how out of the way it was from the main campus.

“I really don't think you should have anything else caffeinated—”

Jungwoo's head whipped toward you and his nostrils were flared. “You must think you're so funny,” he said with narrowed eyes and a saccharine smile. You would have been scared had you not seen this man once blow a massive snot bubble all over his differential calculus homework. (If anyone found out about that, it most definitely didn’t come from your lips…)

Your eyes shuddered, an innocent smile coming to your lips. “I was just saying.”

“Shuuush!” He stopped, thought about it, then retracted. “Actually, don't shush. Tell me what you and Chanhee know, but I don't.”

Chanhee snorted from his side of the table. “That's a long list.”

Jungwoo cut a glare toward Chanhee. “I despise you both,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay, but all jokes aside,” Chanhee said as he tucked his tablet stylus behind his ear. He cocked a high-arched brow your way. “What is going on, Yn? Do update us. Or for Jungwoo’s sake, start from the beginning.”

Your eyes widened like a deer in headlights. You hadn’t expected Chanhee to turn on you, too, but perhaps you should have seen this coming. A generous amount of time had passed since you last failed to confess your feelings to one Kim Younghoon. Between that day and today, you had managed to finally submit your space grant application and passed your second round of midterms by the seat of your pants (hip, hip, hooray). Since that day, you and Younghoon would continue to interact as normal, except for the fact that you were practically walking on eggshells around him.

Just the other day, you both fell asleep while on-call with each other. When you’d woken up the morning afterward, you discovered that, one, it was a good thing you plugged your phone into its charging cord; and two, that Younghoon was just as pretty asleep as he was awake.

To this news, Chanhee merely fluttered his lengthy lashes, unimpressed. “And you’re telling me you don’t think he feels the same way?” He asked.

At some point, Jungwoo had broken out a half-eaten granola bar from his bag to munch on as a replacement for popcorn. “I can’t believe I’ve missed so much,” he said, shoving the bite into his cheek so he could speak. “And Kim Younghoon, Yn? Wooooow, I see you girl. That guy was insane as Charles Bingley in freshman year.”

“You’re so right,” Chanhee chimed in with an indulgent nod, pointing his stylus at Jungwoo. “I don’t know if insane was the right word, but he encapsulated the Bingley gent essence quite nicely.”

“I never saw that one,” you confessed.

Jungwoo’s face scrunched up on one side. “Clearly. At least he knows that you’re not just in it for his celebrity status.”

You leaned back in your chair and dragged your hands down the length of your face with an embarrassed groan. Only your guy friends; Chanhee and Jungwoo, as expected, gave a light laugh at your expense. “I don't like you guys.”

“C’mon Yn-ie,” Chanhee teased and reached over to poke your arm with the butt of his stylus pen. When you peeked one eye out between your fingers, he puckered his lips at you like a penguin. “Love you.”

You reluctantly slid your hands down. “If I'm gonna be clowned for my feelings, I'd rather be in bed!” You declared, taking your phone from the pile at the center of the table to check the time. It was nearly ten o'clock at this rate. Ah, and had anything productive been done? Absolutely none. Perfectly on track for the three of you.

“Nooo, don't go, Yn! You're too sexy,” Jungwoo whined.

“I think you should tell Younghoon your feelings,” said Chanhee. He hiked his feet onto the chair, hugging his knees to his chest. “You need to razz him up.”

You frowned. “I thought it was ‘rizz.’”

“You don't have rizz, though, so I thought razz would be the next best thing,” he said flippantly.

“Burn!” Jungwoo exclaimed with his hand cupped around his mouth, and you were suddenly reminded that he was in a frat.

You leaned your cheek against the palm of your hand with a dramatic sigh. “You're right; I do not have rizz.”

Chanhee's brows scrunched together in concern. “Oh my god, I thought you would fight back—of course, you have rizz, Yn! You snagged Kim Younghoon!”

Before you could tell him you’d given up on fighting back or before Jungwoo could give up on his sanity, Chanhee's phone buzzed from where it was sitting at the center of the table. You expected it to be Chanhee's friend, CH!Yn, since she was the most probable person texting at this hour; instead, Chanhee let out a delighted gasp, slapping his hand to his mouth at whatever notification he found waiting for him.

Both you and Jungwoo leapt to your feet and scrambled to peer over his shoulders. “What? Who is it?”

“It's JC!Yn,” he shrieked. “She's asking about flower shops.”

You and Jungwoo stayed perched over either of Chanhee's shoulders to see what would transpire. It was a brief exchange within the group chat of three people that included JC!Yn, Changmin, and Chanhee. Chanhee somehow knew about a flower shop in the university district that was open until eleven o'clock. After all your years of attending this school, you had no idea it even existed.

But once JC!Yn was off on her way, Chanhee turned his phone off with a prediction that he would not be hearing from her until at least tomorrow morning. “Looks like someone's getting confessed to tonight,” he snickered to himself.

Jungwoo was back in his original seat—a generous wording, since he leaned a good eighty percent of his body over the table with his knees braced on the chair, legs kicking up behind him. “You know what you should do, Yn? You should sweep Younghoon off his feet just like that. I'm sure he adores receiving flowers.”

“Would it not be as special though if he gets flowers after every show?” You asked genuinely, pressing the butt of your pen between your lips. “I'm not against getting him flowers.” Flowers would be a good idea… you'd seen plenty of movies that had romanticized the idea of giving and receiving flowers in your mind, and it would be an obvious gesture. At the very least, you could pull a Younghoon and tell him the flowers reminded you of him because they were gorgeous—or something to that effect. Maybe you really didn't have rizz…

Jungwoo shrugged with one of his shoulders. “I'm sure it would be special coming from you. I dunno. It's just something to think about.”

“So,” Juyeon drawled with his head lolling over the back of the couch to look over at Younghoon, “now that Jacob's situation is solved, what about you?”

Younghoon glanced up from his phone. “What about me?”

There were five of them holed up in Sangyeon's apartment presently, and four of them had invaded the eldest friend's abode to hoard his TV and play Super Smash Brothers. He was the only one with a working TV and decent WiFi to game on that wasn't Jacob and Kevin's apartment. Only, a couple hours in, Juyeon received a text message from Eric with a live update that JC!Yn was going to confess to Jacob.

Eric had ended his update with an ominous: Tell Kevin hyung he shouldn't go home tonight 🤣. That definitely livened up the place.

Kevin sat up from where he had been lying on the floor. “Oh, yo, you're so right. What's going on with you and Yn?”

Younghoon's eyes widened. “Nothing.”

“Don't give us that bullshit,” Hyunjae clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Didn't you say that you liked her?” He teased with a glint in his eyes as he wiggled his fingers Younghoon's way.

The man at the heart of the interrogation rolled his eyes and smacked Hyunjae's hand away. “I will not object to having said that I liked her, if that's what you're getting at.” Frankly, he would own up to having admitted that was how he felt about you. So what, he liked you? He wasn't embarrassed by it. The only problem was living with this knowledge and not telling you.

Sangyeon came over from the kitchen to lean against the back of the couch. He had a drink in hand, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “Do you have a plan or are you gonna pull a Jacob and be a chicken?”

Kevin arched a high brow. “Only I can call Cobie a chicken, thank you very much.” He turned on Younghoon next with an accusing finger. “And you—I can't even go home right now, so let's get down to business.”

Younghoon blinked. “What business—”

“Order in the court!” Juyeon interjected. He grinned like a bunny. “Sorry, I know I have to wait until I'm a lawyer first, but it's just so fun to say.”

Sangyeon sputtered a laugh against the rim of his drink, blindly patting Juyeon on the head. “It's cool, man. Very appropriate timing.”

“We should play Marvin Gaye,” said Hyunjae. “It'll get us in the mood to tell Younghoon how to properly woo somebody.”

Younghoon swore his face was probably the shade of a ripe tomato. This was in no way how he thought his evening would go. And to be honest, he never ever expected having this conversation with his friends, ever. The last thing he wanted to do was to make his feelings all the more forward in his mind, and he was already having trouble whenever he was around you, and all you did was remind him of all the reasons why he wanted to be with you.

The thing was that he couldn't tell if you reciprocated his feelings. Sure, he could flirt and insert himself into your life all he wanted. But you could just be playing nice!

…actually, you probably were just playing nice. Dear god, he was back at square one.

He simply didn't want to lose your friendship, at the very least. Even if you didn't want to be with him in that way, he would pull up his big boy pants and be a friend to you instead. Then he wouldn't have to live without seeing you smile or listening to you work out problems aloud while he did mundane things in the background—

“And we lost him.”

Younghoon cleared his throat, raising a hand up to scratch his jawline. “You did not lose me,” he protested. The amount of attention on him right now was uncanny. Of course, he could go up onstage and be a character—but reality was different. He couldn't put on a mask or another personality; these people knew him… wasn't that scary? And yet, somehow freeing, at the same time.

Kevin inclined his chin to him with a little smirk. “You did have hearts in your eyes, my dude.”

“Aww, he's in love,” Sangyeon gushed while standing up to go refill his drink.

“I'm not in love!” He said with his index finger pointed at the sky. (He was in love. Of course, he knew he was in love. Because when all he did for the past three months of his life besides school was be around you and think about you and you you you… how could he not? Younghoon could fake any emotion in the world in front of an audience of people, but your eyes alone would devastate him.)

The entire apartment, sans Younghoon, chorused altogether now, “Yes, you are.”

Younghoon balked, rocketing upright. “There is no way all of you agreed on something for the first time and it was this.”

Hyunjae patted his friend's thigh from his position on the floor. “Believe it, Lover Boy. So what're you gonna do about it?”

“I wouldn't even know how to tell her,” Younghoon huffed, leaning back against the couch cushion with his arms crossed over his chest in thought.

That day when you'd told him about the wedding, he had been so hopeful that you were going to say something about feelings. He was so certain that he read you right, but you said nothing else afterward. He would totally go to that wedding with you, though; he just figured you might not want him to go, considering you'd dismissed it so quickly afterward.

Sangyeon came back to the couch and perched himself onto the arm of the sectional next to Juyeon. “It doesn't have to be fancy—you just need to be clear and straightforward.”

“Flowers could soften the blow,” suggested Juyeon.

Kevin chuckled. “For him or for Yn?”

Younghoon clicked his tongue at him with a playful scowl. “Quiet, you. But thanks, guys. I guess I just want to do this right. I don't wanna ruin what we already have.”

Juyeon pursed his lips and reached over to clasp his hand on his friend's shoulder. “You won't, man. I guarantee you that.”

“So if I get my heart broken, I can sue you for false advertisement?” Younghoon asked with his lips stretched in a grin, eyelashes fluttering innocently.

“Pssh,” Juyeon laughed, “try me.”

EPISODE ELEVEN: THE USUAL TIME & PLACE

IT was a frightening sequence of events when you texted Younghoon and he texted you at the same time. The Monday after Chanhee and Jungwoo had hyped you up to confess, you went around different items of furniture in your apartment with your phone in hand, pencil behind your ear, trying to work up the courage again to send the text.

And you did… eventually.

The usual time and place was decided upon, and it had snuck up on you as the day went on. You tied your shoes on and slipped out the door, making sure to pat your pocket down for where you had tucked your secret weapon for the night. As soon as you and Younghoon had confirmed a meeting for today, you ran to your (favorite) grad student, Seulgi, and asked very nicely for her set of keys into the planetarium, promising to treat her to brunch if she did.

The walk over to the convenience store was a jitter-filled one. Your stomach was doing cartwheels alongside the flips your heart performed in your chest. There was still activity on the streets, even at nine o’clock on a Dead week evening. You jumbled through the routine you had in mind over and over, a broken record of hopes and wants. The plan was to take a walk to the planetarium and use said walk to work up the courage to tell him. If anything went wrong, then you could cover it up with a cool presentation of stars overhead.

This isn’t lame, is it? You thought to yourself as you let yourself into the store. You were so in your head, you nearly didn’t notice that Younghoon was standing right in front of you, having just walked out of one of the aisles. You startled, breath hitching in your throat.

He smiled, the expression soft. “Hey,” he said to you and had to clear his throat, a hand brushing through his hair. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“All good; guess my head was just somewhere else,” you laughed nervously. You gripped the key in your pocket until you were sure your skin would smell like metal by the time you got to the planetarium. The two of you had met and hung out here a bundle of times before this, but this time in particular was different. The energy shifted in a way you couldn’t foretell if it was good or bad. For your sake, you hoped it was the former.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked and took a step toward you.

You inhaled, nodding. “I do,” you said. “I—actually, uhm, do you want to go to the planetarium with me?” From your pocket, you withdrew the keys Seulgi gave you and wiggled them around by the keyring. “I bribed one of my seniors for the keys.”

Younghoon brightened, a laugh falling out of his mouth, and now he was standing right next to you. “Oh my god, you evil genius… my beloved mastermind, are we about to break some rules?” He teasingly bumped your arm with his, his eyebrows wagging up and down.

“Only if you’ll break them with me,” you beamed and reached for the door to the front door.

“But of course,” he played along with a giddiness shining through his expression. “Anything with you. Though, I’d like to stop somewhere on the way first.”

Without even visiting your table in the back of the shop, you and Younghoon took off into the night together. You couldn’t imagine where Younghoon wanted to stop by on the way, but you thought it was probably to run an errand of sorts. But for the moment, it was at the back of your mind as you tried to keep this as normal as possible. “Different” was so intimidating—you wanted to sink into the comfort that was whatever you and Younghoon had.

It wasn’t difficult to slip into that normalcy, though. He always made it so easy.

“—and they did so well, Yn-ah. You need to come back and see them in person; they’re always asking me where you are,” he told you with an invigorated passion. He gave a feigned sniffle. “Pretty sure they like you more than me.”

You shook your head, laughing, “You’re so dramatic. They love you, Hoon. I mean, I can’t even believe that they would remember me after having met them only once!”

“Well,” he drawled, glancing away for a spell, “that might be my doing.” He confessed sheepishly, “I do talk about you a lot—but hey! You can’t blame me! I like talking about subjects that mean a lot to me.”

Your heart made a full stop in your chest, and you nearly physically halted in the middle of the walkway. The gears in your head could barely process what he had just said without going into a spiral. It was a reminder of what this night was originally about. You sputtered out a reply, “You’re too sweet, you know that?”

“I try,” he jested.

“I do finish all my finals next week by Tuesday,” you told him. “I can totally come by that Wednesday and Friday for a little wing fitting. When’d you say the show was?”

He squinted one of his eyes in thought. “Err… it should be the Friday night after next, but if you do come through with those props, that should still give them enough time to get used to them before the performance.”

You nodded, mentally mapping out your schedule. Once your finals were through, you would have plenty of time to tinker with the props and have some proper fun after such a long quarter. “Sounds like a plan.”

“I appreciate it a lot, Yn,” he said, ducking his head as he nudged you with his elbow, “thank you in advance. I call you a workaholic, but here I am encouraging it.”

You chuckled. “It’s no trouble, Younghoon. Seriously. I like doing crafty things, and it’ll be a nice project. I promise.” To the end of that, you stressed further, “And if you think about it like you’re encouraging my hobbies and passions, then it feels a lot less like work.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose you’re right.” His head perked up when his eyes caught onto something in the near distance. His fingers unconsciously caught onto your wrist. “Here it is.”

Wherever you expected to find yourself, it was not a flower shop. There was no shop name or title anywhere that you could see, just the sketched posters and advertisements in the windows of chrysanthemums and hydrangeas. Troughs of vivid blooms lined the front windows like testaments to the plants one might expect to find within. Hanging planters dangled from the overhang, vines and foliage spilling over in an elegant mess.

There was one other sign posted in the window of the door that read its opening hours from 8am to 11pm.

Younghoon's cheekbones seemed to flush in the light streaming out from the inside of the shop. “Shall we?” He asked shyly and grabbed the door handle to open it for you.

You stepped inside before him with the door closing behind the two of you softly. You weren't sure where to go first—the room was constructed with two long tables in the center to hold smaller planters, then the perimeter was covered nearly from floor to ceiling with the larger plants, as well as the hanging garden pots like the ones outside hung from the ceilings by the lights.

There was someone to the right side of the room with a large, green watering can in hand. She glanced up when she heard the two of you come in. “Hi! How can I help you two?” She asked, reaching up to take out one of the earbuds she had in.

Younghoon placed one of his hands on your shoulder. “Would you mind if we took a look around?”

“No, not at all. Help yourselves; if you need anything, don't hesitate to holler.”

He smiled, “Sounds good, thank you!”

Did he know what he was here for? You followed him toward the leftmost table, unsure of where to wander yourself since there was so much stimuli. He stopped at one of the pots and you stood beside him. Leaning closer, you whispered, “I don't really know what we're looking at.”

“Me neither,” he admitted with an embarrassed grin, but then he pulled out a planter tag at the front of the pot he was examining. “But these might help.”

“You're probably right,” you mused, patting him on the arm.

“Look, these are carnations.” He scooted over to the next one over. There were an array of different colors of them, ranging from white to the deepest red. He placed a finger against his lips, then pointed at the white ones. “Those mean innocence, and those—” these were directed toward the blush pink ones, “—something along the lines of 'I'll never forget you.’”

You still stood close to him, and you reached over to gently warm the velvety petals between your fingertips. “I hope it's okay to touch them,” you suddenly said, swiftly retracing your fingers and peering over your shoulder at the worker.

“I'm sure it's okay,” he chuckled. He pointed out a buttery yellow set of petals a few pots down. “Aren't these gorgeous?” He breathed in awe.

When you arrived at the petal of choice, you raised the tag to see its name—daffodils. They were beautiful indeed, with pristine petals and tall stems, the color of them a rich yellow as if it had been painted rather than grown.

“What do these mean?” You asked.

“Unrivaled love? I think,” he answered with a slight tilt of his head.

You considered him for a moment with lips parted. “You're incredible, you know that? How do you know all this?”

His smile sweetened into something that made your chest feel warm. “You say that as if you're not the incredible one. But, Google. Don't look at my search history,” he muttered sheepishly.

It made you smile anyway.

You turned your head to scan the rows upon rows of diversity in one room. You were never quite the foliage fiend, but you could appreciate nature's beauty as much as nature's laws. Even if you might never be able to grow flowers of your own (because trust that you'd tried), as long as these places still existed, you could still admire and appreciate them.

Your eyes snagged onto a bundle of tulips at the front of the shop and you wandered over to take a look. Younghoon trailed after you to see what you wanted to look at, and stopped with you to admire the tulips. Their buds were near perfect, and they varied in so many colors—all soft purples, reds, yellows, pinks.

“Wow,” you said.

“Wow,” he agreed. He caressed the outside petals of one of the bulbs, then took the individual flower by the stem. He took yet another in his opposite hand and faced you. “What did the tulip say to the other tulip?”

You blinked. “Do indulge me.”

“We should put our tulips together and kiss,” he answered, and he pressed his own lips together in a barely contained smile.

You covered your mouth with one hand, a smile of your own blossoming under your palm. “I don't know about that one…”

“I don't be-leaf you when you say you're not a fan of that one.”

At this point, you could feel your face heat up and you could no longer hide your smile. “You're incorrigible.”

“It made you smile,” he quipped back with a smirk. He placed the tulips in his hands gently back into their pot, then swiveled on the balls of his feet. “They’re beautiful.”

“They are,” you agreed.

“Like you.”

Your eyes snapped up to his, but he already had his back turned to you as he surveyed the shop for the person who was on shift. Yet, you still spied the bit of red creeping up the back of his neck, and found yourself content.

“Hi, excuse me!” He caught the worker's attention. “Could we get just a little bundle of these tulips, please? Thank you so much.”

Your eyes widened and you tugged on the sleeve of his jacket. “Younghoon, what're you—”

He had a satisfied smile on his face. “Getting you flowers.”

“You don't need to get me flowers.”

“I’d like to,” he said simply, and that was the end of the conversation.

Less than ten minutes later, you and Younghoon were back out on the sidewalk with a new addition to the group. You cradled a small bouquet of tulips in the crook of your arm. The girl working there tonight had told you that being open so late caught a lot of last minute gift-givers as she wrapped your flowers in a tan colored butcher paper. She seemed to be an expert at tying ribbon bows that were just as beautiful as the flowers she tended, too.

You were already spinning far from your original intentions. You hadn't accounted for Younghoon making this gesture, and you wondered if he planned something for tonight.

Your counterpart suddenly cleared his throat while the two of you resumed your journey to the planetarium. You were only a few minutes away from the planetarium now. “I know I asked earlier if there was something you wanted to talk about,” he said, “but there is something I wanted to also talk about.”

Your heart fumbled over itself. “Uhm, yeah—yes, what's on your mind?”

From where you were on the street, you could see the broad dome of your target building just across the street. There was a rapid leap in your heart rate as he faced you beneath the street light shining over your heads like some kind of strangely timed, solo spotlight. The crosswalk turned green, but you stayed rooted to your place.

“I've been trying to figure out how to tell you this,” he began. He sucked in a deep breath and swallowed. You could only imagine how long he spent training himself to hold a poker face, but it was the liminal spaces where you could see right through him. “I like you a lot, Yn. It's—it’s an overwhelming amount, what I feel about you.”

You peered over at him wordlessly and hung onto every syllable coming from his mouth.

He wrung his hands out; this perhaps wasn't a script he was prepared for. But who ever came prepared for something like this? “And I think it's pretty obvious what I was hoping for tonight to be like from the flowers and all, and I was hoping that I was being just as obvious with how I felt about you, and… I don't know. I just… I had to tell you.” His lips pressed together so that the small divot in the side of his cheek appeared.

You didn't know how to describe the wave of emotion that washed over you. There was the rapid heart beat thundering in your ears, the tingle of relief in your shoulders, the happiness taking flight in your stomach.

“I have to be honest, I—I feel the exact same way you do.” You ducked your head, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “And I didn't know how to tell you either because I was really scared.” Your voice tripped, and you picked yourself back up. He waited for you, as always, patiently letting you say your piece. “I didn't want to lose you as a friend, at the very least, because you've come to mean so much to me over these past few months.”

Younghoon's smile widened and the amber color from the streetlight above haloed around his head for one dizzying second. “I didn't want to lose you either. I'm literally head over heels for you; you're every… you're everything.”

You didn't know how else to express your feelings through words, and you wrapped your arms around his middle, the flowers coming around his back to avoid being crushed. “Not good at words, sorry,” you mumbled into the fabric of his jacket.

You could feel the vibrations of his warm chuckle as he slowly wrapped his arms around you, his lips pressing against the side of your head. Message received.

Not everything went to plan, and it was important to exercise flexibility in such times. You still snuck (broke) into the planetarium with Younghoon, hand-in-hand, but all feelings were already known and laid sprawled on the table.

There was a center platform in the main showcase hall that was carpeted in a layer of fake grass that you and Younghoon gladly lounged upon to watch the universe. The image projected above your heads now of faraway solar systems and galaxies was unfortunately not real—they were produced by a specific software rather than the lens of a telescope. It was breathtaking, nonetheless.

You laid with your back against the fake grass next to Younghoon, your arms pressed against one another. The light projecting onto the dome above filtered down and painted you both in colors of stars and dark matter, all of those swirls of oranges and purples and blues and white.

“There is one thing that's still on my mind.”

He hummed. “What's that?”

“I was wondering—and you can totally say no—but the wedding…” You glanced over at him, and you wondered if he could understand what you were probing at. “I was wondering if you'd be comfortable going as my plus one. It's just the reception, but I understand if it's a lot.”

He smiled at you, big and bright, “I'd love to go as your plus one.”

Relief and joy fluttered in your chest now. It was a miracle your heart didn't grow wings and fly out then. “Thank you, really.”

His fingers inched over yours until they intertwined as a silent acknowledgement. He knew. He always knew somehow.

In the silence, you returned your gaze up to the night sky. It was crazy how vast the universe was and how small you were in relation to it. When put into perspective, your problems here on Earth were so much smaller than the world—and yet, they were still important.

“When I was a kid,” you started to say, and heard a small sound from your right as he looked back over at you, “I wanted to touch the stars.” You turned your head to look back at him.

His lip quirked upward fondly. “Something of yours will touch the stars one day.”

“I hope so,” you mused back. That was the dream.

His eyes dropped down to your mouth now, and everything quieted, as if you were in a vacuum with only the two of you. In this reality, no one and nothing else existed.

You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin as he leaned toward you and pressed his lips against yours. His body rolled half over yours, one hand cupping your jaw with a tenderness you were certain to become addicted to. It was your chest against his, your nose slotting beside his, your cheek beneath his thumb. His lips were a perfect marriage of pressure and softness at once.

When he pulled away, he didn't go far. “I think I just touched a star,” he murmured.

The breath in your throat hitched. “You're too good with words, Kim Younghoon.”

His eyes crinkled. “We can do something more your speed and study the space between us instead.”

You had to turn away to laugh, the sound of his own joining yours.

“Hey, it's a yes or no question,” he giggled, turning your chin back toward him. He bit his lip through a grin. “Can I kiss you again?”

You would be a fool to refuse him. In an instant, he lowered his lips over yours again, enveloped you in his embrace. And with every moment passed, you sank further and further into him. Maybe the universe was uncharted and alluring, but the universe could wait.

You had all the world right here.

a/n: tumblr fcking hates me and my dialogue, confirmed. anyways, pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed! for now, i'll see u in hot commodity!

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producedbyhanjisung · 7 months

Text

⎯ ALL MINE. christopher bahng chan

🎧 : christopher bahng x female reader

TROPE. alien chan au, friends to lovers au, eventual smut, minors dni

WORD COUNT. 5.9k

WARNINGS. mentions of war, mentions of aliens

SYNOPSIS. when chan crash-lands on earth after running headfirst into the international space station, he has no choice but to follow the mysterious girl from earth who offers him exactly what he needs - a place to sleep, food to eat, and a pair lips that were practically a dream on their own. chan finds that he is fantasizing about you more and more, until finally, he snaps.

SMUT WARNINGS. nipple play (female receiving), hickeys, making out, tentacle play, corruption kink, spit kink, blindfolding, dom!chan, sub!reader, bulge kink, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex

If you were anything, you were smart. Street smart, book smart - a combination of the two.

Any smart person knows not to run towards an explosion. Any smart person knows not to run toward an explosion that came from a ship. Any smart person knows not to run towards an explosion that came from a ship that came from the sky.

And yet, that's exactly what you were doing.

What if someone was hurt? What if there weren't even people on board?

Thoughts ricocheted through your head as you ran, but you didn't react to any of them. The only thing in your mind was getting to that sleek silver work of aerospace art that had collapsed onto the property of you and your college roommate’s newly purchased farmhouse.

When you arrived at the crash site, it was burning. But not regular flames - these were purple. Tendrils of violet and lavender reached up to the sky, grasping for the sky, never to reach.

You froze, watching someone stumble out of the wreck, coughing and dusted in a layer of dark ash. "Fuck!" They yelled, turning and kicking the ship, not minding the fire. "Fucking fuckity fuck!"

You weren't sure what to do. Should you approach the guy, or should you hide and watch from a distance, until you knew he wasn't a threat? What would a smart person do . . .

Thankfully, you didn't have to think that hard. The person turned, catching a glimpse of you through the trees.

"Hello?" he called - you could see he looked more masculine now, but you couldn't make out the details of his face or clothes.

"Is that yours?" you ask, dumbfounded.

"What do you think?" he snapped. He had an accent - vaguely Australian sounding, but not quite. His voice was deep and full, and sent a corkscrew of warmth down your spine.

"Well I'd assume so, but people out here have been getting wild lately."

The man shook his head, groaning and pressing his face into his hands.

"What's your name?" you call after a moment of watching him mentally decompose.

He doesn't answer for a minute. Then, "Chan." It's muffled through his fingers, but you hear it. "Bang Chan." Then he looks up, eyes meeting yours. "Yours?"

"Y/N."

"Pretty."

Silence again.

"How'd your ship crash anyways?"

Chan shakes his head. "Your fucking International Space Station."

You pause. "What?"

"The International Space Station - you know what that is right?"

"Obviously. You said your. As if it's not yours too. It's international." You suppose a smart person would have caught on by now, and you slowly were. But you don't want to admit it - it's impossible, isn't it?

"Y/N, darling, I'm not from Earth so therefore the word 'international' does not apply to me, so yes, I meant your stupid fucking space station took out my stupid fucking spaceship."

You stare at him, mouth hanging open. It's only when a little bit of drool threatened to slip out that you close it. "You mean you're-"

"An alien~ wooooooo." He turned towards me on the "woo", half-heartedly making an impression of a ghost from a shitty 80s horror movie. "Scared?"

You just blink. "Not scared . . . maybe a little confused?"

"Why?"

"If you wanted to hurt me you would have done it already."

Chan is crossing to you now, tilting his head as he stops a few feet from you. "How do you know I won't hurt you? My species loves feasting on humans. How do you know I'm not saving you for later?"

"Maybe you are. Later is later, whatever. I have so many questions."

Chan pretends to pout. "I don't really wanna answer them."

"Can I have three?" You pretend to pout back, rolling your eyes.

He nods, waving me on.

"Why Earth?"

"Just what I was passing by."

"Where are you from?"

"A planet called Levanter. On the planet, I'm from District 9."

You take in the information, calculating your final question. "Are you really gonna eat me?"

Chan laughs. "No, of course not. That would be bad etiquette."

You smile a little as he turns away. "Levanter is where you're from?"

He hums in response, nodding. "Levanter is an ugly planet. You wouldn't like it."

"What makes you think that?"

"It's dying. All black rocks and lava and women with no teeth."

"What?"

He frowns. "Levanter's dying, and its people are too. Everyone is as ugly as the planet."

Before you can bite your tongue, you blurt out, "You're not ugly."

Chan scoffs. "Please. By standards on Levanter, I'm purely average. I have this friend named Hyunjin-" He pauses, as if checking the amount of information he gives you. "Anyway. I have to fix my ship now. So if you could-"

"I have space. Where you could fix it. And tools." You can't help but want to know more about this mysterious world of Levanter, and Chan's home of District 9. You also don't want to leave the strange alien-man wandering around in the woods near your house - you'd rather be able to keep an eye on him, especially since your new neighbors are nosy. You're sure that the people of your town wouldn't take Chan's arrival on Earth as well as you had. "And food," you add. "You eat, right?"

"Everything eats, Y/N."

"So will you come with me? It's getting late." You motion at the sinking sun, which has just begun to dip below the horizon, casting a beautiful light show of crimson, gold, and vermillion across the atmosphere. "We can leave your ship here, if it makes you feel better. We can get it tomorrow morning. No one ever comes out here."

"You came out here."

I sigh. "I saw your ship crash. Seeing as no one else is here, I'm assuming I was the only one. Plus, you need to get your wounds treated. That doesn't look too good." You motion to a gash on his shoulder, exposed where his suit had torn. It looks fresh, and you gather that it was from the crash.

Chan pauses, thinking for a minute, then nods. "We'll leave the ship here, and bring it to your safe place tomorrow. Right?"

"Right. Is that okay?"

He nods again, starting to follow you as you turn on your heels.

It's a fifteen minute walk back to your small farmhouse, shared with Mina, your roommate, who texted you the day before that she was staying in the city with her boyfriend for the week.

"No one else is home," you explain to him as you push open the door. The city you attended college was only an hour from the seemingly-middle-of-nowhere location you and Mina had chosen to stay over the summer, which meant she could visit her boyfriend, who had bought an apartment on campus.

"You live with someone else?"

You nod. "Her name's Mina. She won't be home for a few days though. How long will it take for you to get your ship back up and running?"

"A week, maybe two?"

You cough. "Two weeks?"

He shrugs. "I didn't look at the damage at all. I just followed you. I won't really have a good idea until I look tomorrow."

You stare out the window, eyes focused on your old Land Rover in the driveway. "Okay."

"Do you have anything to eat? I'm really hungry," Chan says, laughing a little. "I had plenty of food on the ship, but I'm guessing it might be a little burnt right now."

“Maybe just a little,” you agree. “What kind of food do people on Levanter eat?”

He shrugs. “I like Nilla wafers.”

“What?”

“Those come from Earth, don’t they? Nilla wafers. Do you have any?”

You shake your head slowly. “I could run out and get some, if you’d like.” You’re baffled. Here’s this strange alien-man with an Australianish and who you can see has at least three knives on him currently, and here he is asking for Nilla wafers. “You’re a silly dude, Chan.”

He shrugs.

“Do you really want Nilla wafers?”

Another shrug.

“Do you want me to go get you some? It’ll probably take me around a half an hour.”

Yet another shrug. You glare at Chan, who gives you a half-hearted thumbs up.

“You’re so . . .”

“Infuriating?”

“Human,” you finish, staring at him.

“Humans descend from people on Levanter. We migrated here long ago - when we first found out our planet was dying. The lucky ones escaped to here - paradise. The unfortunate were left to die on Levanter.”

You stare at him. “Then how come people don’t know about Levanter here? Or that there are other beings in space?”

Chan sighs. “They wanted a fresh start here. The ships dropped them off ass naked and freezing to the bone. That’s what you call Neanderthals, right? Memories fade over time, and over millennia, I guess it’s easy to forget about what you don’t want to remember.”

You stare at him. “So Earth has this big crazy lore and no one even knows about it? What the fuck?”

Chan nods. “I know it sounds crazy. You don’t have to believe me.”

And yet, you trust him. You believe that Chan is telling the truth.

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, letting the new world of information sink into your mind. It’s hard to wrap your head around, and even harder to realize that you’re probably the only Earth-born person alive to know about the existence of Levanter and entities beyond Earth. And here, one of them is sitting in your kitchen, drinking chocolate milk out of a bright blue sippy cup.

Finally, you clap your hands together, startling Chan. “Okay. Should we go to the store?”

“Like a grocery store? For what?”

“Nilla wafers, dummy.”

—————————————————————————

Eight days after Chan landed on Earth, it feels like you’ve lived together for an eternity. Like he’s a regular human guy, who goes to college with you - maybe he majors in something dumb like English.

He works on his ship during the day, and you visit him, working on summer homework in the back corner of the barn, listening to him tell stories about Levanter and his family, and his dog Berry (dogs were also apparently Levanter-delivered to Earth, because humans were too incompetent to survive on their own).

He’s moved on from his short-lived obsession with Nilla wafers, moving onto the strange discovery of sprinkles, which he now keeps a tin of in his back pocket. The first day he was here, you went out and thrifted a bunch of clothes for him that weren’t a space suit, since most of his burnt up in the crash. He liked the baggy jeans and knit sweaters you brought back for him, saying that if you ever needed to borrow one, he'd be happy to lend it to you.

You're curled up in one of his sweatshirts currently, sitting on a hay bale in the barn, watching Chan as he works on his ship. The night breeze tickles what little skin you have exposed, and you shiver under the mint-green layer. It smells like him, you note. Something homely but unfamiliar to you, although it felt like you should know it. The scent gives you heavy eyelids.

"'S fucking hot in here," Chan mutters, turning around to look at you.

You shiver in response, shaking your head. "I don't know how you're hot."

"Are you cold? Come here." Chan opens his arms as he waddles toward you, wrapping his body around yours in a warm hug. He looks down at you. "Should we call it a night? I need to let a few things sit in there."

You nod sleepily, letting him gently tug you to your feet.

"Tired too?" Chan asks. He tsks. "Y/N, why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I wanted to sit with you. I like your stories," you mumble.

"Of Levanter?"

"Your sister, your dog. Your music."

In the short while you've known Chan, you've discovered lots about him. He produces music on Levanter, and was a part of a music group before he and the rest of his band enlisted in the military. He has a dog, a sister, a brother, and two great parents. He and his friend Felix were both pilots in the military of District 9, which was at war with District 16. He and Felix had been on a deep space mission when they were struck by a meteor storm, and Chan was blown off course. He ran straight into Earth's International Space Station, and landed in your backyard.

And that's how he ended up here, with you peacefully sleeping beside him on the couch of your living room. He couldn't help but watch you. Your lips were parted slightly, eyes flitting back and forth beneath your lids, chest rising and falling with your gentle breathing.

How can someone be so beautiful? he thought. Sure, women on Levanter were usually not too pretty - but even compared to the other Earth-born women he had seen on TV and such, you were like a goddess. Chan found himself wanting to drop to his knees every time you entered the room, and treat you exactly how a goddess should be treated.

Yesterday, he had awoken in a cold sweat after having a dream exactly like that. He was on his knees in front of you, lips trailing up and down the insides of your thighs while you fell apart above him. Such pretty sounds dream you had made.

Chan shakes off the memory. He's only known you for eight days, how is he having thoughts like this? And yet he can't shake the image of your pretty eyes watching him, hooded, and your lips parted for a completely different reason. He wondered what you taste like. Sweet, he finally decides. Like raspberries.

He watches you for a while longer, ignoring the quiet noise of the television in the background. Finally, when he decides you won't be waking up any time soon, he walks quietly over to you and scoops you into his arms, bridal style.

You stir a little as he lifts you, and mumble into his chest, "Fucking chinchillas." He wonders what you could possibly be dreaming about that you're having an argument with chinchillas.

Chan's careful as he goes up the stairs, making sure not to trip over the crooked sixth step. When he gets to your room, he carefully lies you in your bed, pulling your blanket up over you after he did so.

He turns toward your closet, where his small repertoire of Earthy clothes are sitting on one of your abandoned shelves. Softly, he changes his clothes into pajamas, opting to put on a pair of black and white plaid pajama pants and leaving his shirt off. When he steps out of your closet, you're still fast asleep, facing the opposite wall.

He leaves your room quietly, making his way down the hall to your roommate, Mina's room. You told him a few days ago that Mina was staying with her boyfriend in the city nearby for a little bit, so he didn't have to worry about sleeping in her bed or intruding on her space. You assured him that he should make himself at home, but he still got a little nervous every time he walked in the room, feeling out of place.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, sighing, and tapping his intercom face. Though the screen was damaged, he had kept it on his wrist since he had arrived on Earth. The screen remained dark, and he tapped it again, twice this time.

Suddenly, there was a holographic image of Felix standing in front of him. The hologram was shaky and out of focus, but it was definitely Felix - what other soldier with an intercom had bright blue hair and wore a sweater vest?

"Chan?" Felix asked. "Where . . . disappeared . . . went home . . . sorry . . . are you?"

"You're cutting out," Chan said, standing. "Felix, wait, say that again, you're-"

"Come . . . invasion . . . soldiers . . . pick up . . . weeks . . ."

"You keep cutting out." Chan's voice was raising. Stupid fucking broken intercom. Suddenly, the communication cut out entirely, and Chan was once again left in silence in the strange room.

—————————————————————————

You were screaming. That's all you could register as you sat up straight in your bed, breathing heavily.

Chan's in your room in a heartbeat. He's shirtless, wearing a pair of pajama pants you remember buying for him. "Y/N? Y/N! Hey, what happened?" He's in front of you now, hands on your shoulders and face inches from yours, searching your features in a frenzy.

And now you're crying. You can't even remember what you were dreaming about anymore. Just the fact that Chan had sprinted from his room to yours in a matter of seconds just to make sure you were okay is enough to make you cry. You're so cool, Y/N. You roll your eyes at yourself mentally.

Chan pauses awkwardly in front of you as you bury your face in your plush blanket. "What the fuck?" you manage to say, wiping your tears as you look back up at him.

"Are you okay?" he asks gently.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay."

"Okay. Breathe with me, okay? In . . . eight, seven six . . . out . . . four, five, six . . ."

You realize he's doing Box Breathing with you, a military technique for staying calm. Moments like this, seeing him so humanly, you forget he's a soldier - and one not even of this world. You forget he's killed, and injured, and committed heinous crimes against other beings.

"See? Everything's fine." Chan reaches out, taking your hand in his. You look down, caught off guard, and take in how veiny his hands are, how nimble and long his pretty fingers look. "Just breathing. Yeah?"

You look back up at his face. "Thank you."

"Yeah, of course."

The two of you sit in silence for a moment.

"Can you stay with me?" you ask quietly. "In case that . . . happens again."

Chan nods. "Do you want me on the floor?"

You shake your head. "You can stay in my bed. It's the least I can do, if you're gonna stay in here."

He gives you a small smile, dimples extra deep-looking in the moonlight.

You move over, closer to the wall your bed is pushed against, and let Chan get in next to you.

He slides softly under the covers, and you feel his arm touching yours as the two of you look up at the ceiling.

"Do you miss Levanter?" you ask him quietly.

Chan is silent for a minute. Then, "No."

"No?" You turn over to face him, propping your head up on your elbow and curling your knees to your chest. The room is dark, but you catch a glimpse of his eyes raking up and down your legs.

He turns too. "Y/N, you don't know what it's like to be a soldier on a dying planet. Riots, homicides, bombings . . . they're everyday things no matter where you are on the planet. Here it's . . ." he pauses, looking for the word. "This is the safest I've ever felt, actually."

You stare at him, overcome with emotion. You can't even begin to imagine the traumatic events he's witnessed, the countless lives he himself has had to take, the amount of people he's watched the life seep away from.

"Look." Chan sits up, turning away from you so that his bare back is in front of you. You try to ignore the way his muscles ripple as he moves, the way they flex tenderly beneath the skin. "Can you see?" You nod, taking in what's on top of the muscles. Scars. Tons of them, big and small, twisting across the canvas of flesh on his back.

"You have so many scars," you murmur, slowly reaching out to touch one right below his left shoulder blade.

He hisses quietly, wincing away gingerly. It's an inhumane sound, one that a snake might produce, and you're reminded that Chan isn't actually a human. Humans may have evolved from his species, but you have no idea of his anatomy and physiology - you can only assume it's similar to yours. "That's war, love."

Love. You try not to shiver at the unexpected pet name. "I'm sorry."

He looks at you over his shoulder. "Why are you sorry?"

"That this happened. That your planet is like this. That-"

"Stop." Chan's hand is covering your mouth. "You shouldn't be sorry. Let's not talk about this any more."

You nod.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?" You glance over at him.

"Is it weird if I ask to kiss you?"

Your heart is pounding out of your chest, threatening to jump out and give Chan a big old smooch itself.

"I-no. It's not weird. Why though?"

He shrugs. "Wanna see if Earth people do it differently."

You stare at him. "Do you think we do?"

"There's only one way to find out." His lips are on yours. They're big, plush, soft against yours, groping desperately for a hold on your mouth. He's a fantastic kisser, pausing to bite your lip gently and pull it towards him. He lets go, and his lips are back on you in a moment, soothing the pain.

When he pulls away, he swears he's never seen a prettier sight. The neck of your sweater is pulled down, exposing your bare shoulder, and your lips are swollen and red. You're looking up at Chan through hooded eyes, trying to guess his next move.

Chan moves closer to you, gently pushing you down against the pillows. Not with either of his hands, you realize as he hovers over you, because they're both supporting his weight on either side of your head. You look down, seeing a flash of purple disappear behind Chan's back.

"What was that?" you ask him.

"What was what?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." You jerk your head at his hands.

Chan sighs. "I thought you might get scared, but I got carried away. I won't bring it out again. I'm sorry."

"Don't fucking apologize. Can I see it?"

"What?"

"Can I see your weird tentacle thing?"

His weird tentacle thing pokes up over his shoulder, slithering through the air towards you. You reach out, brushing your nails over it, and Chan shivers, grabbing your wrist. "Don't."

"Why not?"

"Please don't."

"Why?"

"It . . ." Chan pauses. "It feels good."

You raise your eyebrows. "What do you mean?" You reach for it again, this time with your other hand, but his other hand shoots out to grab you.

"Y/N." His eyes are dark, watching you carefully. "Don't."

"What'll happen if I do?"

"God, Y/N." Chan is standing now, pacing around the room, his tentacle trailing in a wave pattern behind him.

"What's the big deal?" you ask. "If it feels good, why can't I touch it?"

"Because," Chan says, "once it starts I don't know if I'll be able to stop." He kneels next to your bed, looking up at you pleadingly. "I don't want to hurt you."

You bring your face closer to his, tilting your head and breathing in his sweet scent. "What if I don't want you to be able to stop? Who says people from Levanter don't fuck the same way people from Earth do?"

Chan snaps. In one motion, he's pulled you from your bed, tangled in blankets, and has you pressed into the fluffy fabric of your rug. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into," he says softly, voice deep.

"I have a pretty good idea. Plus, it's good experimentation, right?"

Chan grins, face moving closer to yours. You lean up to kiss him, but you feel something pinning you down - his tentacle, you realize.

"Not so quick, pretty."

You barely register the fact that his tentacle is taking off your shirt. All you can think of is that Chan called you pretty.

"Take your time," he chides, tracing his fingers slowly, teasingly up your bare abdomen.

"Are you kidding?"

His lips move down to yours, smile pressing against your mouth. "I'm dead serious."

You giggle a little, but are quieted quickly when his tentacle taps lightly against your hip, then traces itself towards your core. Chan leans back to look at you - half dressed, lips puffy, eyes lidded, chest heaving already. "You're perfect," he mumbles, leaning down to kiss right under your bra. He slides the fingers of his right hand up to your bra as well, sneaking them under your bra to roll your nipple between them. You gasp a little at the contact, and he looks up at you, grinning. "You like that?"

You nod quickly, and he squeezes your nipple a little, pushing your bra up at the same time so he can watch it. He stares, almost fascinated, as he tweaks and pulls and rubs your nipple. At one particularly harsh tug, you moan out quietly.

"That's so fuckin' hot," Chan mumbles, moving up so that he can lick your nipple. He runs his tongue harshly around it, seemingly trying to bury itself in the little hole in the center. Then he wraps his beautiful lips around it and sucks in, breathing in deeply as though it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. "You're divine, love," he mumbles around your tit.

You feel his tentacle tracing your neck, slowly wrapping around it. "Chan," you say quickly, a little panicked.

"Sh, sh." His hand reaches up to cover your mouth, his own lips still hanging loosely on your nipple. "It's okay." As if reading your fears straight out of your mind, he adds, "I have complete control over it. It's not trying to kill you. Is this okay, or do you want me to stop?"

"Don't you fucking dare stop."

He chuckles against your skin, letting his tentacle fully wrap around your throat. It squeezes a tiny bit, and you gasp at the feeling, your hips bucking up towards Chan. He tsks, tilting his head up at you and unlatching his mouth from your tit.

"Chan," you mumble, "Need more."

"More? More how? Show me."

You take his hand, watching him with hooded eyes, and pull it down to your core. The moment he comes in contact with you over your shorts you shiver.

"You're so sensitive," Chan says, lips turned up in a half smile as he watches you.

"Are you not?" You wrap your hands around part of the tentacle around your throat, testing the waters by stroking it a little, and his eyes roll back in his head, his entire body convulsing over you.

"Holy fuck," you say. "Chan, did you just-"

"No! No. No. I'm not- no."

You sit up, eyes widening. "Channie, did you really-"

His hand covers your mouth. "I didn't cum if that's what you're asking. I just wasn't expecting it."

"Are you sure? 'Cause you look like you just descended into heaven and came back down a changed man."

Chan scoffs. "I did not descend into heaven."

You pump his tentacle again, and he doubles over, face pressed into your neck, a low groan tearing from his throat. "That's so fuckin' hot," you mumble.

Then, Chan is up again, pushing you once again back down into your pillows, this time using his tentacle to pin both hands above your head. "No touching, now," he says lowly.

You bite your tongue as he takes hold of your chin, turning your head so he can examine you. "Such a pretty little thing. I wanna ruin you."

You've never been more turned on in your entire life.

"Open," he says, one finger tapping your lips twice. You open your mouth obediently, and Chan leans forward. He opens his mouth, and a glowing blue liquid drips from his mouth into yours. He just spit in my mouth, you realize.

"Now you're mine." Chan watches as you swirl the spit around in your mouth. "All mine."

You hardly have time to ask what he means before his lips are on you again. You break the kiss away, looking up at Chan. "Fuck me. Rail me. Whatever you wanna fucking do- I need more."

He smiles. "Your wish is my command. But first . . ." He stands up next to your bed, his tentacle still holding your arms in place over your head, and pulls off his pajama pants, leaving him bare except for a pair of Calvin Klein boxers. He pauses in front of you, lips parted. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." It's the fastest you've ever answered a question, you think.

He nods, taking his pant leg and draping it over your eyes. "Lift your head," he says. You do as he says, and feel him tie it in the back. You're blindfolded, your sense of sight blocked by a pair of black and white pajama pants. The pants smell good, you realize. Like rosewater.

Meanwhile, Chan pauses above you, one leg on either side of your hips. He looks down at your still form, arms draped above your head, eyes covered, stomach inflating and deflating with every breath you take. "Let's get rid of these first," he mumbles, pulling off your shorts. He watches as goosebumps spread along your body, the act foreign to him.

He runs his finger over your panties experimentally, and your hips jerk up into his palm, searching for friction. "Woah, woah. Needy, needy."

"Wasn't expecting it," you say softly.

Chan moves down so that his face is level with your core, pressing a gentle kiss over the fabric of your underwear. You squirm a little, and he moves his palm to press flat against your pelvis, holding you in place.

Gently, he hooks one finger under your panties and pulls them down off you. His eyes stay completely attached to your glistening cunt, watching for any little movement you make. Then, slowly, he leans forward to kiss it.

You moan the moment his lips touch you, wrapping around your clit. "Fuck," you breathe out, hands grasping tightly onto each other, still rendered useless by Chan's tentacle.

Chan looks up, gouging your reaction to his movements. You cum once, twice, three times on his tongue before you're using your legs to shove him away, the alien completely pussy-drunk.

His boxers are off and he's inside you before you can even ask him for it. Chan knows he's purely average-sized on Levanter, but here, on Earth, he has a monster cock. When he bottoms out inside you, listening to your pretty sounds and the way your face contorts so delightfully, he can already see the shadow of his cock bulging through your stomach. He runs his hand over it, pressing a little where it's most prominent, and you throw your head back. "Look at this, pretty girl." Chan reaches up to take your chin again, tilting your head so you can see the bulge. "So beautiful," he mumbles to himself, shallowly thrusting.

As his thrusts get faster, deeper, harder, he leans forward, kissing you, but in the overwhelming pleasure neither Chan nor you can keep your lips attached, mouths parted open instead as you near your highs.

"Chan, Chan, I'm gonna cum," you say. "Chan-" Then you're shaking violently, entire body tensed and head thrown back as an almost animalistic noise rips out of your throat.

Your walls squeeze tight around Chan, and his lips drop to press against your shoulder, muffling his groans as he thrusts one last time, much harder into you, and cum spurts out of him, coating the inside of you.

The two of you lie in silence for a few minutes, before Chan rolls off you and gets out of bed. "Where are you going?" you call after him, but he doesn't respond.

You sulk back into your sheets, annoyed. Twenty minutes later, the pretty alien returns wearing a new pair of pajama pants, and carrying with him a wet washcloth, bowl of ramen, and bottle of water.

"Chan . . ." you say quietly.

He sits down next to you, surveying your body. His cum is dripping out of you - shimmering blue. "Are you tired?" he asks.

You shake your head. "Wanna talk to you."

He smiles. "You eat and drink. I'll clean you up, and then we can talk, okay?"

You stare at him for a moment as he hands you the bowl of ramen and water, wondering how he could possibly be real. That pretty smile with those gorgeous dimples, on the same body as those perfect abs and massive dick - not to mention the fact that twenty minutes ago, he was railing you into your next life, and now he's sitting in front of you like he's your babysitter.

"I looked up a phrase, while I was making this," Chan mumbles as he runs the washcloth of your center, wiping up his cum off you and cleaning you up. "A word, actually." He folds the washcloth over so his cum is stuck inside and deposits it gently by your door, then returns to hand you what you can only imagine is one of the sweaters you got for him, since it's not one of yours. He goes to your closet, and gets out a fresh pair of panties. You reach to take them from him, but he shakes his head, sliding them onto your legs and up until your thighs. "Hips up, sweetheart," he says, concentrated. You do as he asks, and he finishes putting your panties back on.

"What word?" you ask, watching him crawl back over you to get into bed.

"L-O-V-E. How do you say it?"

"Love." You look over at him. "You don't know that word?"

He shakes his head. "It's not something we have a name for on Levanter. I guess people there tend to not care as much. I like the word though."

"Why did you want to know it?"

"Because I think it applies here. To me, at least. For you."

You turn over to face Chan. "What do you mean?"

"I love you." You can tell he's blushing, and you giggle when he asks, "That's how you say it, right?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Okay. Yeah. Good. I mean, Y/N, I know I've only been here for, what, two weeks? But, I don't know. Everyday I just . . . I want to spend more time with you. And get to know you, and make you food, and give you kisses, and, I don't know, raise kids with you, and buy a house together. Never go back to Levanter. I want to just . . . stay here."

You want to cry, all of a sudden. "You wanna stay here? On Earth?"

Chan takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and rubbing his thumb over your own. "Yeah. If you'd have me, I think."

"Chan, what about your parents, your sister? Your friends? Felix?."

He looks down. "Felix is coming to find me. I'll have a chance to say goodbye. Y/N, nothing is honestly that important to me but you right now."

You quiet your voice, and ask again, "You really want to stay on Earth?"

"Yes. But, look, that doesn't mean we have to stay. There's a whole world out there, love. We could always visit Levanter - or if you didn't want to go I could go by myself."

"Your ship is still broken though."

Chan's eyes are glued to your wall.

"Right?"

"My ship has been fixed for three days," he mumbles. "I just . . . didn't want to leave. Like I said, I think I'm in love with you."

"I love you too, Chan."

The two of you sit in silence for a little longer, and you nestle close to Chan, tucking yourself into his chest as his arms wrap around you.

"So," you ask, looking up at him. "Do people on Earth kiss differently than people on Levanter?"

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1dcommunityficrecs · 1 month

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Exes To Lovers Rec List!

It is no longer Gonna Be May, it in fact is May, and with it another community-recommended theme list. We have, for your perusal and pleasure, 11 exes-to-lovers fics. We've got short and sweet, we've got long and complicated, we've got angsty working through their problems and we've got comfortably rediscovering the new versions each other years later.

I am so excited to dig into these, and I hope you are too! As always, show your love to these awesome authors by dropping a kudos, leaving a comment, and reblogging the fic posts. I'll be announcing the next category as soon as I decide what it is!

Empty Skies by Green_feelings (134048, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

Harry and Louis fell in love as teenagers. Then Louis left and became a pop star...

Reccer says: Greenfeelings has a golden pen. She knows how to handle pining and emotions... And she always comes up with sublime stories...

And What If I Were You by jacaranda_bloom (109959, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

For Louis, will losing his sight give him the clarity to realise what is right in front of him? For Harry, will losing the love of his life give him the strength to finally open his heart?

Reccer says: This fic had moments of such devastation that I cried, and moments of humor that had me laughing. So much emotion packed into this fic! An all time favorite and a must read!

Bitter Ends Turn Sweet by allwaswell16 (30000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

It had been four years since Harry first heard the song his ex wrote about him and far longer since they broke up. He forgave Louis long ago, and now his life was focused on his career, his family, and especially his son, Max. But Louis was back in Chicago, after all this time, and he’s not an easy man to ignore.

Reccer says: Every time I hear the song Chicago I think of this fic. They are inextricably linked forever for me. The fic is that memorable.

Pathema Proteleia by persephoneflouwers (53399, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post Warnings: Graphic Despictions of Violence

A few years ago, Omega Prince Harry left his husband and mate Alpha Louis without any apparent reason. When enemies of the Royalty make an attempt on his life and threaten to hurt Omegas, Louis has to ask the Prince for help.

Reccer says: I love the author's writing, their rather baroque style, the way they set the scene for their story and build their characters.

Halfway Home by Itsmotivatingcara (100000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: Blood, murder, violence, animal death, violence

Harry and Louis were childhood friends.They used to hang out at Louis' grandpa's ranch in South Dakota every summer. As they got older, their friendship turned into something more. But life happened, and they went their separate ways. Fast forward ten years, Louis now runs a wildlife refuge, and Harry comes back since louis’ grand dad included him in his will. ButThere's a mysterious hunter lurking around, making things way more intense than just old flames reigniting.

Reccer says: Not only it is basically enemies to friends to exes to lovers while it has mystery, thriller and crime theme as well. Literally everything a good fic should have

Mine Would Be You by crinkle-eyed-boo (KimmieRocks) (114698, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

Louis returns to New York City 5 years after leaving the love of his life behind.

Reccer says: The flashback scenes showing how their relationship originally dissolved are absolutely gut-wrenching. Beautiful writing, made me cry like twice?? There’s also art in each chapter!

i was yours (i wish you were mine) by staybeautiful (56000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post Warnings: alcohol/recreational drug use, implied/referenced underage sex

Ten years ago Harry dropped his best friend and high school boyfriend off at the train station and never saw him again. A chance meeting outside a bar has them tumbling head first into a summer of music, milkshakes, and maybe each other.

Reccer says: It’s precious, so well written!!! Heartbreaking, heartwarming, heart-mending. I loved how easily they fall back into love, their past closeness is so potent upon running into each other again. it’s so clear how well they knew each other.

I Still Think About You All the Time by NoLogicOnlyStyles (47000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson ) – fic post

Eight months after their devastating breakup, a series of unfortunate events force Harry and Louis back into each other's orbit again. But can you be just friends with someone you've never not loved?

I Can Build Your Heart A Home by LiveLaughLoveLarry (10252, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

Two years after (kinda) breaking up, Harry and Louis are both back in town for Christmas. Niall meddles a little, there's some awkwardness and a lot of Christmas fluff.

Reccer says: I loved the dynamic between Harry and Louis and how the context of their past relationship was explained. Also I love a good Exes to Lovers fic and a good Christmas fic and this was both combined.

Finally, You and I (Collide) by lululawrence (14455, Not Rated, Zayn Malik/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

Funny how Louis could sum up everything he’d had with Zayn so easily. Ex. Or the five times Louis was accidentally wooed by cookies and the one time he was purposefully wooed by brownies.

Reccer says: It is completely self indulgent as Sus wrote it for me, but it's perfectly angsty and gooey at the same time because of all the cookie recipes

The Falling Series by we_are_the_same (4053, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Louis and Harry divide their belongings after their breakup

Reccer says: It's very angsty but hopeful at the same time

#exes to lovers #category 8 #rec list #one direction #louis tomlinson #harry styles #zayn malik #liam payne #niall horan #ficsfor4am #tracksintheam #trackinghome #allwaswell16 #alwaysxlarrie #1d rare pairs #hlficlibrary #hlcreators #1dficvillage #1dsource

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writingmochi · 1 month

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i only said | a visualizer and a teaser

cast: soobin ✗ fem.reader

synopsis: as you stood on the crowded train while making eye contact with the boy from the neighboring school. light shines into the dim train car as it becomes empty and filled with sand. approaching you is a humanoid figure, who calls you the king and queen of viliya—the island kingdom that is plagued with nightmares that haunt its people which you and the boy are also not immune to

genre: two lost souls find comfort, silent lovers, magical realism, meet ugly, hurt/comfort, adventure, thriller, coming of age, romance, high school au (both are 19 and in senior year), late 2010s au, modern royalty au, angst, fluff, mature content (phobias, trauma, war, explicit smut)

inspired by: music my bloody valentine's "i only said" (1991), txt's 2019-2020 star seekers music videos ("nap of the star", "magic island", "eternally"), and movies bridge to terabithia (2007) and tigers are not afraid (2017)

word count: 361 (teaser)

release: will not write so i can shock you ;) but it's going to be in 2024

message from the moon: i've been noticing a drought of epic and fantastical txt fics lately. so, i'm gonna do it myself :]

p.s. yes, late 2010s are already nostalgic enough that it can be its own au with its own style and tech

part of the loveless anthology

you always experience something weird when the train is nearing cheongdam. it is as if your senses are being attacked in a sweep when goosebumps form in a wave before it calms down. then it starts again as the train approaches the outdoor part of its journey to cross the body of water. the lights inside start to flicker as you see outside to view the han river from under the bridge, yet sometimes, it's not a river, but a beach.

the sky is the clear turquoise blue that reflects the seawater. the view of the river bank turns into sand that's lining the barrier of land and sea. you could sometimes hear the sound of crashing waves from it even if you only see the setting sky as it changes from day to night. though now, that turquoise sky is getting darker and darker, even darker than the sunset you usually see when you cross on the hanging tracks from the cheongdam bridge to ttukseom park.

then you see it: the visions.

quick timelapse of the neon street, crumbling buildings crashing down as their support couldn't hold on, humanoid beings who can fly as they attacked something dark. only the color orange highlights everything before you see flickers of a woman with long platinum blonde locks and white dress, calling out your name as your eyes are trying to focus on her heterochromia ones.

you've always held onto the nearest surface as you glance at the dots turning red between cheongdam and ttukseom park stations, breathing in and out as you felt your palm getting sweatier when you felt the whole compartment seemed to shake more and more as you approached the bridge and let the light from outside coming in. recently, the shakiness is getting rougher and the vision more frequent. but, you've always try to comfort yourself and see the boy across from you if he is okay.

because it seems like you're not the only one to notice all the things you've experienced, especially when you see him mumbling whilst staring at the red dots lighting up on top of the door when the train approaches the bridge.

taglist: @raeyunshm @leilasmom @evidive @boba-beom @kwiwin @heesw1fe @aloverga @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @yeehawnana @beansworldsstuff @kimipxl @blurryriki @amazzwon @stayzentiny @rebsmoonn @angelbythewindow @ttyunz @itzzz-yerin @shinrjj

#k-labels #cultofdionysusnet #txt #txt smut #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt angst #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt x reader #soobin x reader #rsc: i only said #rsc: loveless #cr: soobin #cs: txt #sc: regina

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kooktrash · 2 years

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love and rivalry | kim taehyung

summary: kim taehyung is neither friend or foe, he’s more of an annoying fly always near creating chaos in your life. now he’s buzzing on about his new crush and begging for your help in exchange for his help with yours. like an idiot you agree though you signed up more than you can chew. just great.

warnings: 17.3k words. e2l but like, soft e2l. college. crack humor kinda. smut. fluff. mutual namecalling. frenemy taehyung. classmate taehyung. both highkey funny and sassy? a little jk x y/n but nothing serious. taehyung x oc. jealousy. y/n gets wasted. smutwise[protected. rough. quick. six-nine position. couch. fondling. make out. hatefuck but soft.] Idiots to lovers.

The moment was too intense. No, wrong word for it, awkward? Well, no, that still didn’t sound right. He’s not sure how to explain it but he just doesn’t like it right now. You aren’t friends but he knows you well enough to know that you’re holding back laughter. What makes that even worse is that he’s swallowing his pride to even talk to you. He looked down at his phone as if in a rush in hopes of getting you to just accept his damn offer.

Your eyes began to crinkle and he knew what was coming. First, the laugh came from your nose making your cheeks puff out as you fought the urge to laugh. It didn’t matter though because your laugh made it through your sealed lips that you’d clearly been trying to hold back. His eyes rolled clearly unamused by your laughter, arms crossed over his chest waiting for you to be done. You were wheezing now, a few heads turning your way to see what was so funny but they came up short when it was just you two. He sighed, “Are you done?”

“One sec,” you held up a finger giving one final ha ha shaking your hair back looking over to him with that same grin, “Yeah, my answer is no.”

“Why?” Taehyung groaned louder than he had intended and more heads turned making him glare at you, “Not even if I ask you nicely?”

“I don’t give two shits about how nice you are,” you laughed again poking around your rice to see what else you could eat. You shook your head returning the glare back to him, “And by the way, there’s not a single nice bone in your body.”

“Listen you—“ deep breath Taehyung. Ignore the smirk on your face and try and be charming. He took a deep breath, eyes closed as if meditating and it only made you more amused. He made a move to brush his hair back. A perfect smile appeared on his face turning back to look at you, “Oh come on Y/n, isn’t it about time we put the past behind us? No need to hold grudges, we’re adults we can work this out.”

“Work what out, exactly?” You stood suddenly, your tote bag hanging from your shoulders and tray in hand. His heart began to race, he hurried to gather his own things as you started leaving. His chair scraped along the linoleum floor but he was following after you. He moved too close, bumping your shoulder as you placed your trays in the washing station and you made an annoyed sound. He cleared his throat, “Well, you know… What happened last year—listen, I take full responsibility and I can tell you now I’ve grown since then. I am a new man, I—“

“Whatever cheater.”

“Okay, I did not cheat,” he argued pushing the door open for the two of you to leave the lunch room. You were walking ahead of him still and he was having to rush to catch up. Your legs were shorter than his but you were like a speed racer or something because he found himself out of breath. “I had a bad judgement call and in reality I was just thinking about what was best for us but clearly that didn’t work.”

“Clearly,” you said as the two kept walking toward the courtyard that connected pathways from different buildings. Taehyung hot on your trails, “Look, it’s not that I didn’t think you were smart, I was just super arrogant and I assumed you wouldn’t know anything since you were a first year. Not an excuse I know, I shouldn’t have changed the report without telling you. But don’t you think you’re being a little too petty to still be holding this grudge? I mean it was a year ago.”

“Oh I’m the petty one?” You scoffed in disbelief. He was not helping his case whatsoever. “Didn’t you cry about getting a lower score than me in the last exam?”

“I did not cry, I was simply distraught,” Taehyung said with exaggerated hand gestures. He had no clue where he was even going, he was just following you but he was desperate. He’s tried everything and nothing seems to be working so this is his last resort. Practically begging on his knees with his tail wagging behind him. He reached for your arm pulling you back. His other hand held the strap of his backpack stopping the two of you in the middle of the cement path. “I’m sorry okay? I’m immature I know but—“

“I’ve never seen you this desperate,” you said with a smile, “But I like it.” “So you’ll do it?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because, I know what kind of guy you are,” you said with a roll of your eyes beginning to walk to your next lecture again, “You have a new girlfriend every week. Clearly Soyoung knows this if she rejected you and what do you expect me to do about that? One, her and I are friends but we’re not close enough for me to introduce her to someone. Second, I don’t like you.”

“I don’t like you either,” he said before he realized he even said it. His eyes widened already regretting it when you simply rolled your eyes, “Who would’ve thunk.” Thought, he corrected but he knew better than to say that out loud especially when you were just being sarcastic. He could go without your attitude but whatever, he’s busy. He’s still trying to butter you up. He made himself smile again nudging your shoulder playfully, “Truce?”

“You know, if you wouldn’t have scored higher than I did on the midterm then I would’ve said sure, but since I’m a ‘sore loser’ in your own words, I’m gonna say fuck no, instead” you argued nudging him back as a warning that you don’t play. He groaned, “Why can’t you just help me? I’ll pay you.”

“You’re more desperate than I thought,” you laughed, “And do you plan on following me all the way to my next class?”

“I just mi—“ “Y/n!” The two of you turned to the source of noise and a smile spread across your face. Taehyung didn’t react in time to you leaving and before he knew it you were running off to the person, “Soyoung!”

“Aish,” he cursed watching you leave even swinging his arm out as if to have the last say but you were already too far gone. He looked around at all the passing students and made a quick move to head to his lecture that he’d definitely be late to. When he made it into the lecture hall his friends were already sitting with a seat saved for him. He dropped his backpack down on the desk and with a low grumble as he took his seat. His friends looked at him as he made another annoyed sound.

“Why is Y/n L/n so… infuriating!” Taehyung said with a groan in frustration as he angrily put his things down. Yoongi chuckled, “What did she do this time?”

“Well, you know how I asked Soyoung out just yesterday and she said no? First of all, why would she say no? I’m amazing, I’m literally the perfect man to date,” Taehyung said. Yoongi laughed even harder, Jimin right there next to him laughing at Taengung’s words. Taehyung looked between them clearly still irritated and now their laughing is even more mocking. Yoongi wiped away a fake tear, “You aren’t the perfect man to date but that’s a discussion for another day. What does Y/n have to do with this?”

“Oh, right,” Taehyung cleared his throat ready to tell his story, “So I found out Y/n and Soyoung are friends and you know, Y/n and I have had our… moments? But if you look at it from a different perspective you can say we’re frien—acquaintan—classmates? Yeah, we’re classmates. So, I figured I could go to her and seek out some friendly advice on how to get with Soyoung and she says no!” Taehyung looks evidently distraught by the face that you wouldn’t help him and it was clearly amusing. Jimin snickered, “Are we in high school? Why do you need someone to help you get with Soyoung?”

“Because she’s the love of my life.” “Since when?” “Yesterday?” “Yeah, I see where Y/n’s coming from. It’s very hard to take you seriously about relationships when all you think about is studying and going out. What’s the longest relationship you’ve had?”

“That’s not what’s important, what’s important is that if I convince Y/n to talk me up to Soyoung then she’ll start seeing me as a better guy, you know?”

“And you want Y/n to help you? Wow, how can you be so smart academically but also the biggest idiot I’ve ever met?” Yoongi asked Taehyung which only made him look even more confused by what he might be implying. He shook his head in disbelief looking to Taehyung, “You two have been at each other’s throat since last year. You don’t even have to be in the same classes to compete with grades. You don’t even like each other! Why would she offer you help? Is she gaining anything from it?”

“It’d be from the kindness of her heart, whatever she has left of it,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. He realized how ridiculous he sounded but he really thinks him and Soyoung would be good together. If she just wouldn’t have rejected him yesterday and seen for herself then he wouldn’t have had to embarrass himself by talking with you. His arch nemesis but not actually.

Listen, he didn’t dislike you in the beginning the two of you were just too opposite especially when it came to your studies. Last year you had been partnered for a research paper and he got annoyed with your procrastination and switched the paper to something he wrote. He thought you would’ve been happy when he slapped your name on it despite it being the copy only he wrote. Of course you were pissed off because you hadn’t been procrastinating and actually had your part done. Mistake on his end. Really sucked because he thought you were attractive but then you started hating him and next thing he knows, you’re competing for better grades. Jimin shrugged, “Soyoung doesn’t want you though.”

“It’s crazy, right?” Taehyung asked making the latter roll his eyes. Taehyung wasn’t a womanizer, or at least he didn’t consider himself one, no he was. He can’t even lie. He’s the annoying kind of womanizer too. The ones who are academically smart, charming, and calm but can wreak havoc whenever they felt like it. He’s the kind of guy girls date because he’s attractive and seems like a good guy—which he is—until he loses feelings and dumps the person then he’s a grade A asshole. But he swears he’s not a player he’s overly excited when he’s in his feels, especially if he’s got his eyes on someone. Currently that’s Theatre major Kim Soyoung, unfortunately a friend of yours.

He still can’t believe she rejected him, it’s not like he expected her to be in love with him but he put on his most charming smile. She told him she wasn’t looking for anything serious so it wasn’t a bad rejection or anything but he would’ve obviously preferred her to say yes. He thinks they’d be perfect together, they have very similar interests and she’s calm and quiet. Not that he is but he can be. They both like art and classical music so they would match well. He hates that he’s resorted to asking for your help.

You didn’t hate Taehyung, not really, he was just… annoying? You used to think he was all mysterious because he was the smart, quiet guy. After being partnered with him and the paper incident you were definitely pissed because that was just rude. Then you took it kind of personal because he clearly didn’t think you were smart and so yeah. Maybe you got petty and studied harder to score higher than him in most your shared courses. Then, because you were getting petty then Taehyung got the same way which meant he didn’t care anymore about what he did about the paper. This was personal now.

It was only a few hours after his bizarre favor and you had completely forgotten about it. It was a Friday and you were out with friends trying to get absolutely shitfaced so you could stop thinking about the midterms you all just finished. you had planned to just drink, not go through love at first sight. You’re pretty sure the craziest thing just happened to you as you arrived to a dark club. As if the universe was giving you a sign, a broad chest was in your face. The place was crowded with bodies upon bodies until a perfect one literally slapped you in the face and his drink spilled against your arm a little. The stranger had felt the nudge of someone pushing against him from behind and it had him stumbling forward into you. In order to soften the blow, his hand had managed to catch you by the waist making sure you didn’t stumble back.

When you looked up and found the face of a God, you wanted him to hold you tighter. He gave a shy smile once he realized how close you two were, lip ring moving when he bit his lip, “Are you alright?” Wow, an icon, a legend, he was perfection and you needed his name right now. You cleared your throat as you smiled, you couldn’t act nervous now that a hot stranger was in front of you. “Yeah.” He gave a smile back, doing a once over not shying away from his curious eyes before releasing you by the waist and heading in the direction of the bar. You stood there awestruck for a moment before shaking yourself back into reality and left with your drinks to the table your friends were at.

You would’ve noticed the unwanted presence the stranger talked to if you weren’t gushing about the love of your life. Despite being opposites, you and Taehyung are surprisingly both dramatic when it came to romance or even crushes. You came in hot and heavy sliding yourself onto the tall stool looking to the closest friend to you, “I just ran into the most attractive man I’ve ever seen in my life.” “How hot?” Was the first thing Jihyun asked and you had to think for a second. Well, he was tall, not too tall but also towered over you just enough. His hair was longer than average but it looked so good. His face was cute yet hot at the same time and his facial piercings? Yeah. When you looked down at the arm that had been holding you in place you saw it was covered in body art. “If 10’s the highest rate then I’d say 100, better yet 1000.”

“1000 out of 10? Where? I wanna see him,” she said and you turned quickly to where you’d once been to see if you’d find him again, all while the two other people at table talked about something else. You noticed right away when you found him smiling at one of the guys he was with who you couldn’t see clearly. Jihyun followed the point of your finger and she gasped, “Oh my god?”

“Yeah,” you nodded in complete understanding of her reaction. Yeah he was beautiful. You kept staring at your boyfriend [who didn’t know it] for the night thinking you were being slick. And you were because you noticed him first. The sneaky snakity snake, Kim Taehyung, dressed in black just like your boyfriend doing some dance together holding drinks. You didn’t mind seeing him on campus sometimes but you would’ve liked it if your social life wasn’t infiltrated by his obnoxious presence too. You understand you’re adults and you live in the same area so it’s understandable to show up to the same bars on a Friday night but come on. And he just happens to be friends with God himself? He should give you a break because there’s no way you’re shooting your shot while he’s around. What ended up happening was Taehyung caught you, gave you a bored look, and looked away and the two of you never went up to each other or anything.

You were quite literally swallowing your pride doing this. In your defense you’ve been single for a while now and though you have had short flings it wasn’t anything serious. Not that you’re looking for anything serious but it’s been a while since you last indulged in a crush and everyone knows having a crush is somewhat exciting. You wouldn’t even be going out of your way to do this if it wasn’t for Hoseok and Jihyun making fun of you for having a dry spell of like two months. Not your fault your friends are horny monsters. At the same time though, that man was so hot and Taehyung knows him so why shouldn’t you figure more out about the stranger? Exactly.

You were currently in the library pretending to look for some textbook when you know damn well you didn’t need to be. You saw Taehyung come in here earlier and you were so nosy, all you needed was the name of the stranger and your curiosity would be fed. You thought you were being slick, pulling out a book just to put it back as Taehyung stood in the next aisle over. You’re trying to talk yourself into shoving your pride aside to ask him even though he’ll probably make fun of you for it. You had just gone for the next book you were about to pretend to look at when you nearly screamed. Leaned down low enough to look through the shelf, Taehyung stood on the other side looking at you once the book was out of the way. He smiled noticing your clearly caught-off-guard expression and asked, “Are you stalking me?”

“Don’t you wish,” you scoffed putting the book back to block him but he just slid it to the side. He nodded, “Maybe I do. I’m still waiting for you to convince Soyoung to go on at least one date with me.”

“You’re still on that?” You rolled your eyes moving away from the shelf. Now he was annoying you and you had no intentions of asking him about anything or anyone. You turned to another shelf pretending to examine another book thinking Taehyung just dropped the topic but shortly after, a tall figure was blocking light. You refused to look up even as his arm rested on the shelf just above your head leaning into it as he stared down at you. You kept ignoring him studying the textbook in your hands until it was being yanked out. You turned, “I was looking at that.”

“I know,” he said reading over it, “This is a Chemistry book and I’m pretty sure you don’t know a thing about chemistry.” You snatched it back ignoring the way his bicep seemed to flex in the position it was in, “Hence why I’m looking at the book, dummy.”

“Dummy? What are we five?” He asked with an amused smirk. You rolled your eyes putting the textbook back, “Fine. Dumbass. Is that better?” He didn’t disagree as you leaned your back against the shelf he was leaning on making him basically tower over you with his arm over your head. He looked down at you, “I saw you on Friday.” “Yes unfortunately I saw you too,” you said making him roll his eyes. “Ha ha, why wasn’t Soyoung there?”

“Because she doesn’t go out with us. You seem to forget that even though we’re friends we’re not friends.” You told him and he sighed. “So be friends then.”

“You know, for a guy who prides himself on pulling women, you really are desperate. Is that how you get every girl?” You asked making him shake his head no. Suddenly, he flashed you a smile with low lid eyes, “Usually I just give them the look and boom, they’re sold.”

You made a disgusted face clutching a new textbook in your hands just to keep your hands busy, “So what you’re saying is you actually have no attractive quality about you other than a smile?” His eyes narrowed looking down at you, “Well you haven’t seen the smile. It’s a fan favorite. I’ve just got no reason to show it you when you’re a rodent.”

“Ah yes, a rodent in Kim Taehyung’s eyes, how will I ever redeem myself?” You asked sarcastically. He smirked, “By getting me a date with Soyoung. I just want to know why I’m not good enough for a date.” He watched you begin to walk away, “Figure it out yourself.”

You didn’t even make it five feet away when you froze. Oh right, you had an agenda. He looked as you turned around and walked back to him suddenly smiling nervously and he changed his position to meet you. You smiled sweetly now and it was actually pretty attractive if you weren’t such a little gremlin. His arms crossed over his chest when you came back, putting on the cutest act you can muster in hopes of swooning him, “So you know how we saw each other on Friday?”

He seemed to take a step back completely caught off by your cute behavior now, “Obviously?” He waited for a moment, “Listen you’re not my type so whatever you’re about to say it won’t change anything. You’re hot but it just won’t work out.” Your smile tightened as you fought the urge to roll your eyes and smack him, “Ha, not what I was going to talk about. I was actually, um, you know… You were with a guy on Saturday, tattoos, piercings, sound familiar?”

He stopped to think about it pretending to be in thought as he tried to read you. Slowly saying, “Sounds familiar.” Your smile widened even more, “What’s his name, by chance?” When realization dawned a smug smirk made its way into Taehyung’s expression, “Figure it out yourself.”

“Oh so that’s how it’s going to be?” You asked with a roll of your eyes and he nodded. “You started it, and if you ask nicely, I’ll tell you his name on one condition.”

You huffed, “I’m not as desperate as you that I have to ask for help.” You turned your back to him in thought and annoyance.

“Yet here we are,” he said spreading his fingers out as if inspecting them only to turn his hand and study his nails now as if waiting. He already knows what his condition is and if you’re extra nice to him he’ll even tell you his zodiac sign, “I’m just saying, we could really help each other out.”

“What’s the condition?” You turned back to look at him. He shrugged looking away from you trying to seem cool and aloof. Ugh, everyone thinks he’s so mysterious but then he acts like this. It was kind of funny that he was popular around campus for being mysterious and cold but he wasn’t, like at all unless you two were arguing over a lecture. Well, okay, he was kind of cold when you first met but after your friendly, academic rivalry, you brought out the pettiness in him and with that came a 4D personality you didn’t think he possessed. It was just annoying like right now when it took him seconds to finally speak, drawing out his silence for climax building. Taking a long deep and dramatic breath, waited, then, “Help me get a date with Soyoung and I’ll tell you his name.”

You audibly gasped, “Okay well that’s the shittiest deal I’ve ever heard. You’ll give me his name while I have to set you up with someone? You know how unlikable you are?” He rolled his eyes and made a move to speak when— “Can you move?” You both turned to stare at a short guy with thick rimmed glasses and a plaid shirt. He pointed to the shelf you were standing in front of and you both instantly backed away from each other in opposite ends.

Your eye contact didn’t waiver as the guy separated you and without another word Taehyung cut the space behind the guy to go to you and led you out the aisle. You began walking to your table and he followed, “And I’ll introduce you to him. What are you doing this weekend?”

Your brows furrowed as he took the seat in front of yours carrying the conversation, “I’m not doing anything but I don’t know if I’d want to meet him. What if I’m not his type?” He looked at you with curiosity, “You’re his type.”

You smiled a little but snapped out of it, “But what about the weekend?” “There’s a party this Saturday that a friend’s throwing. I’ll make sure he comes with, you bring Soyoung, and boom.”

“You’re sneaky,” you accused but still thought about what he was saying. He shook his head raising a finger and tapping his forehead, “Not sneaky, strategic. I’ve got it all planned out and it’d be a win-win for both of us.”

“Are we really this desperate?” You asked him and he shook his head, “I’d say ambitious.” Oh god, were you about to go along with each others shenanigans? You were clearly bullshitting each other, half serious, half joking and yet it was very tempting to see what would happen if you did do some chasing with a little play. It really was tempting. To be fair the last time you had a boyfriend was months ago and though you’ve gone on a couple dates they’ve been lacking. Plus, it’s not like you’re looking for anything serious so who’s to say you can’t have some fun while attracted to someone? It’s always nice to set your eyes on someone and then have them. Not in a bad way either, just if you thought this stranger was attractive and interesting, it’s nice to know they thought the same about you. Taehyung was paying close attention to the way your eyes narrowed with conflicted feelings before catching the subtle nod of your head, “Alright, fuck it, I’ll help you.” He smiled widely.

“Perfect, I’ll text you you all the info about this Saturday,” he said already moving to stand up finally ready to leave the library, he looked down at the books you had set out on it earlier, “I scored a 98 in the exam for cultural studies, what’d you get?”

You smirked, “99”. He didn’t hide his scowl. The two of you shared exactly three courses together and they were prerequisites and an elective that would be an easy grade. You hadn’t known this was his plan nor did he know it was yours. It just happened like that this semester so you’ve been competing grades in those classes for weeks now. He turned to leave before stopping in his tracks, leaning down close to your ear, “His name’s Jeon Jungkook.”

“There’s a lot more people than I thought. I don’t even know who they are.” Was the first thing Soyoung said when your group of friends arrived to the party Taehyung told you about. Everything had worked out perfectly tonight when Hobi told you that he knew about the party too. You didn’t even have to ask them all, Hobi did it for you and you’ve been pregaming at his place before you came. You were looking at the texts between you and Taehyung where he asked if you were here yet, “It’s a party Soyoung, obviously you’re not going to know everyone.”

Soyoung was a sweet person. She was soft spoken and sort of timid but once you got to know her she was more outgoing. You met her last semester so there’s still time for you to be closer friends but right now you like your relationship. You don’t hang out or talk every day but you know that if you ask her to hang out on the whim, she’ll say yes. That’s what happened tonight. You still can’t believe you and Taehyung are coming together for some stupid ass idea. You’re happy she actually came since usually she doesn’t like big social gatherings but she’s getting herself worked up, “I’m just saying, there’s a lot of people here.”

“I kinda like it, it’s not too crazy but I need to get drunk, like now,” Jihyun said cutting through the crowd behind you, Hoseok hot on your trail. As if to further state her point she tipped back the drink in her hand and chugged it. The four of you have been drinking a bit already but it was a Saturday and you were looking to get more than just tipsy. You took yours and did the same as you finally spotted Taehyung and his friends. Okay perfect. Hoseok cleared his throat, “Alright stop hassling me. I’ll go get more drinks.”

“Thanks for offering,” you teased as he voluntarily goes to get more drinks and you turned your focus to your friends. It was a big place and there were a lot of people here, very few you recognized but you knew they went to school with you. Some were clearly unfamiliar just like Jungkook. Jihyun looked around, unaware of your plan and gasped loudly, “Y/n, your boyfriend is here.”

“Wait you have a boyfriend?” Soyoung asked making you shake your head no as you turned to where Soyoung’s focus was and spotting the beauty of Jeon Jungkook. Jihyun clutched your hand, “Hobi is talking with Taehyung and he’s right next to him. Oh my god, let’s go.”

“What?” You turned quickly, so Taehyung was really making moves. When you looked over to where Hoseok had in fact been talking to Taehyung, he was now motioning for you all to come over since his hands were full with drinks. The three of you left in the direction trying not to stare at your future husband, looking to Taehyung instead as his eyes narrowed at you. Soyoung did seem a little awkward considering Taehyung had asked her out just days ago so she’s keeping her distance.

It’s not that she wasn’t attracted to Taehyung. Everyone’s attracted to him but that’s what makes her kind of worried. Even if she did go on a date with him she’d worry about his eyes wandering or someone approaching him. He’s very charming and he has no problem finding a girl to date so she just doesn’t get why it was her. In truth, for a while she thought there was something going on between you and Taehyung. She understood what started the distaste for each other but sometimes your arguing seems a little flirty and if she didn’t know any better it was like watching a bickering couple. She could see him with someone like you, equally as charming and honestly probably very similar. But whatever, neither one of you seem to actually like each other so maybe she was reading too into it.

“Y/n come here,” Taehyung pulled you suddenly forward and the cup you’d currently been drinking from spilled a little with your stumble. Okay, maybe you were tipsy but also why drink if you don’t get drunk? You let him pull you next to him directly across from God himself. “Be honest, what’s your essay topic for Professor Park’s class.”

You rolled your eyes at his voice forgetting for a moment the game plan, “Why would I tell you?” Your head was spinning a little bit, not to the point where you had a headache but enough to make you sway. You looked over at him for a quick moment before catching Soyoung awkwardly behind you so you pulled her forward between you and Taehyung. You took another chug of your drink thinking finally, if you’re going to go through all this trouble just to flirt with someone you’ve never met, might as well go through with it.

You put on your best smile as you stepped away from the other two toward the man of your dreams. You didn’t expect him to remember you from a night drink at a shitty bar. The only reason why you even kept him in your mind was because you saw him with Taehyung therefore meaning he was accessible. He only saw you in passing. And even with all that, he still looked at you with a hint of curiosity, “You look really familiar.”

You couldn’t help the small giggle, “Do I?” You were definitely starting to feel the weight of the alcohol. You knew for a fact you were all pretty drunk at the moment but you weren’t really focused on everyone else. He nodded biting his lip as he got a better look at you, “I’m Jeon Jungkook.”

“Y/n L/n.” He nodded bringing his drink to his mouth standing beside you now clearly interested in conversation, “How do you know Taehyung?” You swear it took you a second to know who he was talking about but you’re not sure if it’s because you’re drunk or because you’re only paying attention to his face. “You know uh, classmates.” Jungkook just smiled lazily, he was clearly a little interested so he didn’t mind seeing how this would go tonight. Your eyes met, both slightly dazed and it made you giggle a little, “How do you know him?”

He looked over to Taehyung for a moment as if that’d remind him before back down to you with a shrug, “We went to high school together but just recently started hanging around each other again.” You looked down at your cup, “I think I need a refill.”

He nodded, his hand just touching your back as he led you to the drinks. It was a subtle move but a clear indication that he was trying to stay with you at the moment.

“I didn’t expect to see you here Taehyung,” Soyoung said after some time. He really was attractive in her mind and she would love to go out with him if she found him genuine but so far no. She was only making small talk because it seemed like you were having a good talk with Taehyung’s friend since you were both smiling and swaying a little leaving. It felt like Soyoung was the only one not drinking heavy and she can’t take care of three drunks when Hobi and Jihyun were already shitfaced. “Hm? I don’t usually come out to these things but my friend invited me tonight,” it was kind of true. Jimin and Yoongi invited him out and he invited Jungkook then of course you and Soyoung.

Soyoung nodded looking away from him and around at everyone else. Taehyung was nervously drinking, he’s wanting to ask more about her but at the same time he doesn’t? It doesn’t make any sense but honestly, he’s also not able to pay that much attention to her. It’s not that he didn’t want to, he obviously did but there was just so much going on around them. Between Soyoung concerned with her drunk friends to the music and crowds. Then there was you and Jungkook who he clearly saw getting along very well and yet he found himself still focusing on how it was going. You also seemed slightly drunk so he’s paying attention to that too only because he’s the one who invited you out tonight, technically. He tried to focus on Soyoung looking back to her with a smile, “What are you drinking?” She looked to her drink, “I actually don’t know, Hobi just got us drinks.”

“Can I try?” He asked to which she nodded her head letting him take her cup and he took a small sip. His eyes glanced in the direction of the drinks table while his head was still tilted back.

From this distance he could see as you and Jungkook seemed to be laughing at something and your shoulders bumped.

Alright.

Seems like that ship is sailing. He handed Soyoung the drink clearing his throat with a smile, “I think mine’s better.”

You and Jungkook spent a lot of the time talking. You’re not sure if he was into you or if you only thought that because you were drunk but it was fun. He was absolutely gorgeous and seemed interested in you too. You weren’t sure how far the night would’ve gone though since his phone kept ringing. It was his roommate apparently he’d forgotten his keys and is locked out. You heard Jungkook on the phone telling this guy to stay at his girlfriend’s place only to be yelled back that he got dumped. You felt bad for the guy so when Jungkook, clearly annoyed by it, apologized and said he had to go you didn’t object. Of course that didn’t happen without asking for your number and giving you his, so everything was alright.

Jungkook looked down at you as you made a small pout waiting at the door. He couldn’t help but smile a little. He didn’t know anything about you other than what he learned tonight but he was attracted to you. He’ll have to ask Taehyung more about you but right now he just wants one thing. He bit his lip nervously, “Can I kiss you goodbye?” You gave a nod and that was all he needed to be tipping your chin up and connecting your lips. It was short and sweet leaving you both wanting more but with another ring of his phone he was reluctantly pulling back.

You were beyond words, extra giddy now when you were going back to your friends once Jungkook left. There was even a little jump in your step, alcohol fueled sensation of floating joining Soyoung now. You let yourself stumble into Soyoung clinging to her with a smile, “Hi.”

She gave you a sober smile, “Hi.” Taehyung stared down at you, rose colored face from the alcohol and eyes half shut yet you smiled with all purity. It was cute almost, a very different side than the cold Y/n he’s used to. Soyoung held you with a hand on your forearm to keep you stable, “How’s your night going? Have you been drinking a lot?” You took a step back almost too close to Taehyung as you found yourself between them and his hand flinched to either hold you or stop you from stumbling. You held up your index finger and thumb pinching the air to signify how much you’ve had to drink, but ignored her last question verbally.

“It’s going great, I just kiss—“ you were cut off with a small whine when your friend practically knocked you over. The only thing to keep you from falling yourself from your head spinning was the arm around your waist now keeping you secure against a broad chest. Hobi held onto Soyoung, “Mom, I wanna go home.” You laughed at his drunken state as Jihyun tried yanking him off and all Taehyung could see was that you were all hot messes but Soyoung. Yet here he was keeping a hold on you when you leaned back into him with a laugh.

“Okay well, let’s go then, I can’t deal with all you drunks in here,” Soyoung said in an authoritative voice that had Taehyung shuffling out with you all, his arm around your waist to help you walk only a few paces behind the others. He blamed it on the fact he couldn’t mind his business but he found himself asking a drunk You, “Who’d you kiss?” Obviously he knew but his mind was still wrapping around it. You looked at him practically letting him drag you to the elevator with the others. “Ju-Jeo—Ju—-“

“Jungkook?” He asked intently to which you nodded with a clap of your hands slurring, “Yeah! Him!” Taehyung just nodded releasing you for a moment so he could talk to Soyoung, “How are they all getting home? How’d you get here?” “The bus,” Soyoung said with a sigh as they started going down to the main floor. He clicked his tongue counting heads real quick, “I’ll take you all home. My car’s in the garage.”

So the five of you crammed into his car with Soyoung in the front and you between Jihyun and Hoseok in the back. Taehyung was so annoyed by the fact that anytime he looked through his back mirror, you were in the way. You stayed in the back almost half asleep out of the back and forth of going to Jihyun than Hoseok’s place, Soyoung having to help them to their floors too.

“Y/n lives right up here,” Soyoung said a few blocks after where you’d just dropped Hoseok off and Taehyung was pulling up to the duplex parking on the side. Soyoung looked back at you, “Key?” He turned the engine off turning to look at you half asleep with your face pressed into his window. You tossed it to her and with a huff in annoyance she was getting out first to unlock your front door.

He took a deep breath as he got out of the car. He made his way around to your door opening it nearly dropping you as you fell forward but he caught you in time helping you out. God, you were gonna owe him big time even if you brought him close to Soyoung. Though, if he’s being honest, the only reason why he volunteered to help everyone out is because he wanted to make sure you got home safely. The others he wasn’t close to enough but he knew you and he liked Soyoung. He’ll never tell you he did this for you, fuck no. Soyoung opened the door and Taehyung kept you steady as you went up.

He looked to her while holding you up in your entrance trying not to look around and get a peak at your apartment. Soyoung brushed her fingers through her hair going around turning on lights, “Let me go get her bed ready real quick.”

“Ta-hyung,” you fumbled his name as he looked down to you now that it was just you two. He lifted an unamused brow before softening when you laughed, “You’re so nice.” That made him smirk, “Am I?” , his hand loosely on your back keeping you close as you looked into each others eyes.

“Of courshe,” you pointed a finger into his firm chest giggling a little as you started to pull away from him feeling stronger to move now, “You’re taking care of me.” Taehyung just followed after a few paces letting you regain consciousness and waited just out the door of your bedroom not looking in. He didn’t even know what to respond with. He could hear the muffled sound of you and Soyoung talking and he went back to the front door for privacy and waited.

When Soyoung came back she was sighing in relief, making Taehyung clear his throat, “Where am I taking you?”

“I’m just gonna sleep over,” she said leading him out the door as they talked, “Thanks for helping me tonight. I know it was a lot.” Helping who? Oh yeah…

“No worries,” he scratched the back of his neck as he stood outside now walking backwards to his car, “I had fun tonight and do you mind telling Y—“

“So about what you asked me the other day,” Soyoung cut him off suddenly making him stop. Was she talking about the date? Had she really just changed her mind because he seemed to have helped her tonight? Taehyung was excited but not as much as he thought he’d be. He was already forgetting what he was going to say as he waited for her to keep going, “Is it too late to change my mind? I think I was too harsh and I really would like to get dinner together.”

“Really?” He asked with a clear of his throat, “I mean, yeah cool, I’ll uh, you know I’ll text you then? Get something set?” Soyoung smiled a little at what appeared to be Kim Taehyung flustered, was it because of her? “Goodnight Taehyung.”

He nodded thought she couldn’t tell from where he stood at his car, he said back, “Goodnight.” His eyes darted around in confusion at the lack of excitement he was feeling now. He’s been moping around hoping to get a chance with Soyoung again but now that he has it, it doesn’t make him feel any different. If anything he’s just happy to be in his car now and alone at that. He drove off after making sure Soyoung made it back inside and went home.

Taehyung should have it all planned already. He was a strategist, that’s what he told you and yet he has absolutely no clue what would be next. He scored the date which was the first part of his plan to date Soyoung and yet he’s got no clue where they should go and what they should do. He could ask you but how likely would you be able to help him? He can’t believe you kissed Jungkook already like damn, you must’ve really been feeling each other tonight and he’s curious to ask Jungkook how it felt. Would it be weird for him to ask if you were a good kisser? No, he’s got to think about what his date with Soyoung would be and how you’d help. He was in bed already when he finally decided to just send a text despite how late it was.

taehyung: you owe me big time :)

you: naur i sont

taehyung: yes you do

taehyung: now go to sleep

taehyung:drink water and try not to puke

taehyung: goodnight

you: ok dad. night nigkhskiolj

He rolled his eyes checking the time. He dropped you off with you barely talking but clearly now you’ve sobered up enough to be checking your phone. He’ll just wait till class to see if Soyoung filled you in on tonight then blackmail you into helping him plan a date out. Taehyung wonders if Jungkook would talk to him about you and if it’d be positive or negative. His friend had a tendency of being a player so he just wanted to make sure Jungkook wouldn’t say anything bad about you whether he disliked you or not. But for some reason he didn’t want to hear Jungkook go on and on about how great you are either and he doesn’t know why. He ended up falling asleep debating if he’d want to hear what Jungkook had to say about you at all.

Tuesday morning came, exactly two days after the drunk fest that was Saturday, and also the day Taehyung shared classes with you. Per usual, you paraded past him to an empty seat and before he knew it he was getting up from his seat to go next to you. You looked up in time to catch him sliding into the chair next to yours and immediately released a sigh, “What do you want?” And cold Y/n is back. He scrunched his nose making a mocking face at you, “I’ve gotta talk to you obviously. Do you think I’d go out of my way to talk to you without needing something?”

“I do think that,” you said looking back to your laptop as your phone lay face up giving him a perfect view of when it lit up, a text from ‘Jeon Jungkook’. His eyes didn’t peel away until you were grabbing your phone and glaring at him for eavesdropping. He rolled his eyes, “I told you, you were his type.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment as the professor came in and Taehyung released a huff, “You even kissed.” Your face flushed at the reminder and turned to look at him, “Barely remember anything. I was drunk, remember?” Hoping to get the spotlight off that specific topic you cleared your throat, “Thanks for taking us all home. I know Soyoung was really thankful for helping her deal with all of us.”

“Right,” he said opening a notes document to get down whatever the lecture was today, lip pulled between his teeth in thought, “Did she tell you she agreed on a date with me?” You gave him a shrug clearly unsure what she might’ve told you because you can’t remember. He looked at you waiting for a verbal response but when you didn’t give one he continued, “How about a double date? I was thinking about it over the weekend and I don’t know a thing about Soyoung and what she might like.”

“Double date with who?” You asked with furrowed brows that had him rolling his eyes, “You and Jungkook obviously.” You made a snickering sound laughing a little as you typed out what was on the board for the day before the professor excused himself out of the room. His brow raised in curiosity as you looked to him, “Wouldn’t Jungkook have to want to go on a date with me first?”

Taehyung huffed, eyes glancing away from you with a slight bitter taste in his mouth, “He’d want to. I’ll talk to him.” You shook your head waving him off, “It’s fine. I don’t really want to go on a date, especially when you’ll be there.”

“Fuck you? Plus you owe me a favor for the other night, remember?” He bumped his shoulder against yours, “You gotta do this—“ “Why should I? You didn’t do it for me,” you said with a shrug, “You did it to get on Soyoung’s good side. You’d never go out of your way to do something nice for me, we’re not even friends.”

“Oh really? We text, hang out outside of class, and you’re the one who said I was nice—“ “I would never!” “Oh but you did, touching up on my chest all giggly when you said it too,” he smirked now as he thought back to Saturday night at your place when Soyoung had gone off to get your bed ready, “Embarrassed? Don’t be, I had a feeling you liked m—“

“Do you guys mind shutting up and getting out of the room if you’re gonna flirt?”

You both whipped around to the same glasses guy who had cut between you two in the library last week. You raised a middle finger at him and Taehyung held your hand to stop you as the professor walked in. You looked up at him leaning toward him a little to whisper, “I swear that guy’s everywhere.”It took him a second to move his hand off yours even as you let it rest on the desk and had to pull it out from under his. He mumbled now, “Alright I’ll text you when, expect soon.”

“Jeez you must really want Soyoung. You’re impatient.” “I work fast,” he said with a shrug and looked to you waiting for an agreement. With a reluctant sigh you agreed, “Fine, but I don’t want Jungkook to think I’m desperate like you.”

He rolled his eyes, “I’m not desperate. I’m a go-getter unlike you who just waits around for things to fall into your lap.” “Keep telling yourself that sir. And I’ll have you know, things do fall into my lap pretty easily. ” “Alright… maam. I’m done talking to you.” “Perfect.” “Bitch.” “Ass.”

You didn’t tell anyone about the double date only because you didn’t see your friends. You hadn’t even talked to Soyoung today since Taehyung said he’d get it all set and god did he work fast. You got to the small Korean bbq place that you finally saw Soyoung and she seemed just as thrilled to see you. You took your seat, avoiding the other two for a moment as you got yourself situated glancing up at Jungkook with a shy smile, “Hi.”

He gave you a warm smile as he sat next to you at the small rounded table, “Hi.” You looked over to Taehyung, your sweet expression gone, “Hello.”

“Hello.”

“Want some?” Jungkook asked already grabbing the green bottle of alcohol and a small glass for you. You nodded your head holding it out to him for him to pour but before any liquid can stream down, a hand was reaching across the table and covering your glass. You turned to glare at Taehyung as he spoke, “Don’t drink too much unless you want to be carried home again.”

Jungkook chuckled as Taehyung moved his hand back, “I wouldn’t mind carrying you home.” It was flirty and had you smiling unaware of the way Taehyung’s eyes narrowed at his friend before rolling them back in annoyance. He almost had forgotten about Soyoung until she spoke, “Tae, once again thanks for your help on Saturday. I know Y/n and the rest of us were pretty grateful for it, right?”

You scoffed, “Yeah sure.” He glared at you, and you only met him back with an intense glare back practically arguing with each other in your heads.

You’re making me look bad Taehyung.

You’re doing it all on your own. You’re the one making me look bad.

Why? Cause I’m honest?

Cause you’re an asshole, Y/n.

Fuck you.

Fuck you. It went something like that.

Neither one of you seemed to notice the strange stares you received from the other two until Jungkook was cutting up some meat in your bowl practically snatching your attention back. You smiled sweetly, a huge contrast to how you looked at Taehyung. He rolled his eyes grabbing a pair of tongs and doing the same for Soyoung but they weren’t nearly as neat as Jungkook’s.

“So what do you do for work? Do you work Y/n? Part time or anything?” Jungkook asked after some time wanting to get to know you better. You shook your head almost embarrassed, “Not at the moment. I did do a lot of work over the summer and saved up enough to not work during school. I’m on a full ride scholarship so my money mostly goes to housing and food. Do you?”

He nodded, “I’m a mechanic part time, as you know I don’t go to school with you guys but my job’s pretty close to my campus and it’s easy cause it can be open late. The only downside is that I don’t have much free time.” He glanced your way again looking to your bowl reaching forward to cut more food for you. You shook your head urging him to focus on his own meal but it was still cute. Right next to you Taehyung and Soyoung were struggling to find something to talk about. He couldn’t stop looking over at you two and he couldn’t understand why and it was only annoying him even more especially with you.

“Have you been to the new illusion museum that just opened up downtown?” Soyoung asked Taehyung now trying to see if the conversation can shift from awkward to at least normal. She can’t tell if he’s just nervous or uninterested now. She thought he liked her if he’d been going for her for a couple weeks now but right now she can’t tell. She could say it’s nervousness because he did like her but would that be true? Would Kim Taehyung really be the type to get nervous when he’s had tons of girlfriends before? He just seems so stiff talking to her right now. He looked up at her.

“I haven’t but uh, maybe the four of us should go,” he said glancing over at you and Jungkook. You looked over at him before giving a small smirk, “Scared to be alone with Soyoung? She doesn’t bite y’know.”

He glared at you rolling his eyes before looking back to Soyoung, “It was just an idea but I think you and I should go. I love art.”

“I know you do, that’s why I want to go I think it’d be fun,” Soyoung said and that made him pay more attention to her. What was wrong with him? He had a huge thing for her just weeks ago. That’s why he kept going to you to help him to get with her. That’s why he offered to help you get at Jungkook which was clearly working better than him and Soyoung. He can’t even say she’s the one being stand offish now when it’s clearly him. He’s obviously the problem here. He literally asked you earlier today to help him set a date and what ended up happening? He made it a double date with the excuse that you’d make it less awkward between them. Now he’s finding himself trying to hear what you and Jungkook talked about instead of getting to know Soyoung.

Whatever he talked about Soyoung over dinner was practically forgotten by the end of the day. He stood outside with everyone else now and it seemed like everyone was suddenly awkward around each other. It wasn’t you, it seemed like you were the only one who wasn’t but even Jungkook seemed uncomfortable now. Soyoung next to him was a little ahead of him and you were just on your phone not even thinking about everyone else. Taehyung offered to give you two a ride but you wanted to take the bus instead and he ended up just saying goodbye to both then. Jungkook gave you a small hug and let you go. It wasn’t until Taehyung was leaving with Jungkook that he decided to talk about the dinner.

“So, you taking Y/n on a second date?” Taehyung asked driving Jungkook home too. He couldn’t see the amused smile that spread across Jungkook’s face as he stared out the window shaking his head no, “I don’t think so.”

Taehyung’s brows furrowed. Even if Taehyung isn’t into you he can’t see why Jungkook wouldn’t be. You’re annoying but you’re funny strangely enough. You’re pretty, like crazy attractive, and you’re smart. You act cute when you’re drunk and even he’ll admit it’s sweet, that’s why he kept thinking about your smiles the night of the party. But anyway, he doesn’t understand why Jungkook wouldn’t want to go on another date with you. He was clearly into you at the start of the date but why did he change his mind. “Why?”

“Are you kidding?” Jungkook scoffed as he chuckled looking over at Taehyung expressing himself with what he’d just asked. He wasn’t mad or anything it’s just like, bffr [be fucken for real]. He shook his head, “Because you’re into her, obviously. I swear I didn’t know, I just thought Y/n was cute at the party so we started texting and I thought maybe we were all just hanging out today.”

Taehyung blinked, he stared at the street blankly, “Huh?”

Jungkook sighed with a roll of his eyes mocking Taehyung’s ‘huh’ and slouching in his seat, “Yeah, we kissed last weekend and I feel so fucking bad about it now. I know you two have something going on but I didn’t know. Why would you let me bring her on a date—“

“—I don’t have a thing for Y/n. That’s weird, I—why, why would you even think—Y/n’s not my type.” Taehyung cut him if suddenly, way too eager to deny what Jungkook said, “She’s got too much attitude and honestly she’s infuriating. She’s always neck to neck with me in class. She’s rude and annoying and—“

“—And you like all of that, quit lying,” Jungkook said with an amused smile as he looked over to Taehyung. He shook his head no. He didn’t like you. What he felt toward you was like a ‘frenemies’ vibe y’know? Sure your conversations [though hostile] were probably one of his favorite things. It was a nonstop jab at each other but never to the point where it was actually rude. It was lighthearted even if some of the things you both said might push it. But no. “I like Soyoung.”

Jungkook chuckled, “What do you like about Soyoung then?” It caught Taehyung off guard. He’s not sure how to answer that. How do you respond to that? What do you say when someone asks that? “I—y’know she’s pretty? Um, quiet and uh, well, uh, kind?”

“Alright and what do you hate about Y/n?” He was ready to hear what ever Taehyung was going to bullshit him with. The night of the party Jungkook spent his time with you once he talked to you. The two of you separated yourselves from Taehyung and Soyoung yet even when they were all together, he would’ve never known Taehying liked you. It wasn’t until tonight that he saw it. Taehyung took a deep breath, not wasting a second to begin speaking unlike how he was with Soyoung, “Oh god she’s just awful, you just don’t know her like I do. She’ll ignore your texts, flaunt her grades in your face, argue with you over literally any—“

“You love to argue.”

“I know but like, she’s loud and she’s got this laugh that’s kind of annoying but also pretty entertaining if you’re the reason she’s laughing. And she always has to be right, even if she’s not, she’ll keep arguing. She gets drunk so fast that you basically need to take care of her because who else will,” Taehyung was speaking very emotionally now, similar to excited but something else.

“I’m sure Y/n’s friends will,” Jungkook wasn’t even pretending to be understanding of what Taehyung was telling him because he thought it was all bullshit. Taehyung liked you and Jungkook knew it so who was he kidding?

Taehyung laughed nervously, thankful that he’s only a few blocks away from Jungkook’s place, “I mean, maybe but sometimes they’re unreliable too so what ends up happening? I’m the one driving them all home because they’re all too drunk. To make it worse Y/n gets sleepy and touchy and sweet when she’s drunk so you’ve gotta really look after her to make sure nothing happens and it’s just so much work. I’m telling you, Y/n is fucking infuriating. Everything she does just grinds my gears, y’know?”

Jungkook just smirked, “If you’re still trying to get me to think you don’t have a thing for Y/n you’re failing. You’ve just gone on a rampage about all things Y/n, while all you said about Soyoung — who you’re apparently into, might I add — was that she was pretty and nice. Y/n is pretty too.”

Taehyung blurted out before he could even stop himself, “I mean yeah Y/n is so fucking attractive but that’s not all that matters… doesn’t mean I’m into her. I’m into Soyoung.”

Jungkook had to use a different tactic. He knows his friend well and he’s seen him be in relationships. He also knows that what he’s seen on how Taehyung treats someone who’s a frenemy to him, it’s way too interested. He’s way too interested in you and more than what he’s seen for Soyoung. He had to scheme, play matchmaker here for his friend, “Yeah alright man, I’ll tell you what. I’ll keep going for Y/n and you just let me know if I’m stepping on your toes.”

“You won’t be.” Taehyung argued though he immediately started thinking about what Jungkook would do. How he would get your attention and why he want to if he apparently thought Taehyung liked you. Taehyung doesn’t know if you’re crazy into Jungkook but he knows you’re attracted to him and you’re charming enough that anyone opens up to you.

“Alright, sure.”

“I’m serious. There’s not a single bone in my body that wants Y/n,” Taehyung kept going feeling the need to prove himself, Jungkook just nodded, “Okay.”

He’s not sure why it was hard to get it off his tongue but he managed to say, “And you should definitely go for her.”

“I will.”

“Alright.”

It was not alright. It was apparently not alright at all because right now he’s stuck watching you and Jungkook flirt across the room. He blames Jungkook full heartedly for making him think about you. He knew you were coming over to his place with some friends but he didn’t expect you to be so caught up on talking with Jungkook. It’s only been a few days since Jungkook started with this whole BS and Taehyung didn’t believe it. And yet, he’s awfully interested in you two right now. He can’t tell if you’re flirting or not but even that was making him a little annoyed. God, why did he tell Jungkook to go for it? Clearly there’s something going on with him that he hasn’t realized until now. Your relationship together was never even on the borders of friendship until recently and even then you’re both still very sarcastic with each other.

He thought Soyoung was his ideal type. The quiet and shy theatre student. He definitely did not expect it to be you, loud and arrogant. You always had something to say that went against what Taehyung said. Your relationship had started rocky from the get go, all the way back to the stupid research paper that brought you two together. He thought you were attractive then but he was soon blind to your looks when you became difficult so he hadn’t thought about you in this way. He’s not sure if he’s been feeling like this for a while now or he’s imagining it. All he’s sure about in this moment is that you looking so relaxed talking with Jungkook that was suddenly getting on his nerves when all you do is argue with him. Humph.

“What’s up with you?” Yoongi asked patting Taehyung’s knee as he followed his stare. You and Jungkook were currently in your own little world showing each other something on your phones. Unbeknownst to you or even himself, Taehyung had been staring that way with a clenched jaw. It wasn’t until Yoongi spoke to him that he realized he was staring, “What?”

Yoongi chuckled as he leaned back on the couch being as subtle as possible as he pointed to you and Jungkook in a low voice, “What’d Y/n do this time?” He’s used to Taehyung ranting about you and though entertaining sometimes it was annoying, like come on Taehyung, just say you’re into Y/n. Taehyung shook his head shifting his gaze away to the card game Hoseok was setting out. He was asked if he wanted to play but he said no, focusing instead on the music that had been playing in the background, occasionally shifting his eyes to you. Hah. Hah. This is fun. Taehyung wasn’t even sure what was going on in his head right now. All he knows is watching you lean forward and brush something off Jungkook’s face was annoying him. The way you smiled when you talked to him annoyed him. So much so that he did the unthinkable.

You were in the middle of telling Jungkook about some weird dream you had when suddenly you were being pushed to the side on the couch. Taehyung was sandwiching himself between you two not even looking at either one of you as he spoke, “Hey.” You turned in your spot to stare—no, glare—at him better but he didn’t meet your gaze turning to look at Jungkook instead he looked all the amused. Dare he say, Kim Taehyung was beginning to snap into realizations that he didn’t despise you, he desires you.

“Hey man,” Jungkook said lifting his cup up for a drink as Taehyung watched him closely, “What’s up?”

Jungkook just shrugged looking past him to you, “Nothing much. We’re just talking about the new restaurant that opened up just down the street from here. We were thinking about going.”

“Like a date?” Taehyung found himself asking and your eyes widened. You grabbed at his shirt sleeve to get him to stop talking. He let you grab him but he didn’t turn to you at all, staring at his own friend for reasons he can’t comprehend. You took a deep breath, “I need a drink.” You left before he even turned to look at you but just like that he was getting up to follow you into the kitchen. You sure know how to make yourself at home but he didn’t mind.

“So is it?” Was the first thing he said in the privacy of his kitchen. You were looking into his fridge, “Jeez aren’t you Mr.Doesn’t-Mind-His-Business today? What’s got you on edge? Soyoung realized you’re actually a loser?” You were laughing a little knowing it was all lighthearted and he’d probably just laugh and tell you to fuck off. Instead you were met with silence and you looked up clutching a water now, your brows furrowed. He looked so serious. Looking back down as you closed the fridge you shrugged, “Uh, I don’t know.”

“Do you want to?” Taehyung asked looking at you with almost a desperate expression that left you even more confused. What was up with him and why was he being so serious right now? Usually he’s only serious when you’re debating over something in class and even then it’s been a while since you’ve seen him like that. His eyes seemed to soften for a moment, “Do you want to go out with him?”

You took a step toward him, “I don’t know, why does it matter?” He shook his head, “It doesn’t.”

“Then stop cockblocking,” you were annoyed now brushing past his chest as you left. Jeez, what was up with him? Why is he asking that now as if earlier this week he wasn’t asking you to do a double date with Jungkook. You swear Taehyung’s for a few screws loose because he never makes any sense. First he’s begging to get with Soyoung. Then he offers to introduce you to Jungkook if you help him. He gets a date with her and what’s the first thing he tries to do? Get you to go on a double date as if you haven’t already gotten them on good terms by your drunken night? Like isn’t that what he wanted? He wanted to be with Soyoung and he wanted you with Jungkook. Do you feel that way about Jungkook still? Who knows, you don’t know that’s for sure. You like Jungkook as a person but you think once the initial love at first sight wore off you’re content just being friends.

So why was Taehyung asking you these questions and acting weird? Why does he wanna know so bad? He’s attracted to Soyoung, that’s how this all started and yet she doesn’t plan on going on another date with him and he didn’t even invite her over today. He likes Soyoung, you’ve gotta remind yourself that despite how sus he’s being. You walked past Jungkook though he didn’t seem to mind as you plopped down between Hobi and Jihyun. Taehyung came out a little after and went back to his spot next to Yoongi and Jimin. Neither one of you spoke to each other but their was a clear weight on both your presence and the others felt it more than usual.

Jungkook was the first to go for the evening. He made up some poor excuse about needing to pick up something from the store and left with a goodbye to everyone and a hug to you. Even that seemed to bother Taehyung and Jungkook knew it and that’s why he was smiling. And Taehyung said he didn’t feel anything for you.

When Hobi asked if you and Jihyun were ready to go you took him by surprise when you told him no, “You guys go, I’m just gonna get the bus later.” Though Hobi was ready to ask why Jihyun was hurrying him along then. Taehyung took note of the way you stayed and it had him urging the others to go too. He wasn’t even subtle with the way he started picking up trash and empty cups implying, ‘alright. leave’. Jimin shared a look with Yoongi, both clearly confused on why you were still here and why Taehyung was suddenly indirectly telling them the fun’s over. Eyes widening in realization they were practically tripping over themselves as they hurried, “Uh, I’ve gotta feed my leapo—lizard. Yoongi come with.”

Taehyung didn’t argue or react at all, leaning against his kitchen wall barely raising a brow as they hurried out the door. It was just you two now. “So what? Did Soyoung dump you or not.”

He scoffed pushing off the wall to keep cleaning up the coffee table. You rolled your eyes sitting on his couch watching him go back and forth from the living room to the kitchen, “Then why’d you ask if Jungkook and I were gonna go on a date? That was embarrassing.”

“Why isn’t Soyoung here anyway? Thought that was your perfectly girlfriend. Remember all the things we did for this.” He didn’t say anything and that seemed to annoy you a little. Usually he’s never quiet when you’re talking, always a playful argument between you two but right now he wasn’t even reacting to you. Did he actually want you to leave too or was it what you were saying? You huffed, “Fine, I’ll just leave then since you’re ignoring me now.”

“I’m not ignoring you Y/n I just don’t know what you want me to say,” Taehyung finally said stopping in his tracks to look at you. “Nothing happened with Soyoung, I already apologized for not being able to take her out anytime soon and we’re fine. I was out of line for asking earlier. You’re right. It’s not my business, you’re into Jungkook and he’s into you. Congrats.”

Your eyes narrowed moving to stand up to level out your conversation, “Are you being sarcastic? You literally drove me and all my friends home because you wanted to look good for Soyoung.“

He scoffed, “Maybe I did it for you, not Soyoung.” You rolled your eyes laughing a little now, “Yeah alright. Funny joke. And why are you saying congrats?”

“Because you found someone who you actually like,” Taehyung said walking past you to continue doing his task. You took a deep breath turning your back to him, “Fine. You clearly don’t want me here so I’ll just go. This conversation isn’t getting anywhere.”

“What conversation?” Taehyung asked now, “What conversation Y/n? What do you want to talk about?”

You don’t know. You actually don’t know why you stayed and now he’s calling you out on it and you’re silent. Usually you had something snarky to say and that was bothering him now that he was in your shoes. He released a sigh unable to stop himself from just letting you know how he feels right now. “You don’t even think of us as friends and I get it, we’re not. So what is it that you want to talk about?”

He should just let you go but he can’t. He wants to know why you stayed when you’re clearly not here for reasons he’d like. He ran his fingers through his messy hair waiting for you to say something and you didn’t making him scoff, “First time you don’t have anything to say. I’m not used to it.”

“You’re just in a mood because I actually pulled someone first try while it took you weeks.” He rolled his eyes at that. He shouldn’t be annoyed but he is. It’s not even about his previous crush on Soyoung, it’s about the fact that you did indeed get Jungkook and he’s the one who set it up. Now he’s here regretting it so much and can’t do anything about it but complain.

“You’re right, you’re so right Y/n, you always are. That’s one of the things that really gets me about you,” he was walking up to you now, unable to stop himself from speaking, “Wanna know what else?”

“Have at it.”

“You’re mean. You’re so mean sometimes and you don’t even care. You’re rude and you think you know everything,” Taehyung said practically chest to chest with you, “And you usually do because you’re crazy smart and I hate that you’re better than me. I hate that you’re charming and likable and funny. I hate that you hate me and that you think I’m an ass. I hate that even knowing that I can’t stay away from you.”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to process what he was saying because he was making no sense. One second he’s annoyed just being around you and the next he’s telling you this? Now that just wasn’t fair because what are you supposed to say? You’re used to being a little hostile toward him and you couldn’t help but still be that way, “Wow, this is just like you. I never know if you’re bashing on me or complimenting me. I feel the same, alright?”

“What are you even saying right now?” you told him watching his brows furrow in concentration, “Do you hate me or not?”

“I hate…” he took a deep breath, “I hate that I pushed you toward Jungkook and I regret it so fucking much and I can’t stand seeing you two together now.”

That made you laugh now, taking a step away from him suddenly a little nervous and hot, “Yeah alright, you’re crazy. You are actually insane because nothing that you’re saying is making any sense. What do you mean you regret? Don’t you think I’m annoying? Don’t you think I’m infuriating? You do, so I don’t know what game you’re playing but I don’t want any part of it. The only reason why you can’t stand it is because you don’t like losing and let’s admit that I won in our little game.”

“What game! This wasn’t a competition Y/n, this is real—“

“Yeah, and you wanted Soyoung! You begged and begged for me to help you with that and you’re trying to tell me what exactly? God this is just like you, I should’ve known,” you said in clear frustration, “You know you’re right. I do think you’re an ass. I think you’re arrogant and that you don’t think about anyone but yourself. I think that you didn’t realize how I’ve been right in front of you this whole t— oh fuck.”

Neither one of you said anything. Practically frozen in your spots, he stared at you as you looked off into the distance forcing yourself to zone out and not think about what you just said. Fuck, why would you say that? You never even—since when did you feel—no. You don’t feel that way. You’ve never thought about Taehyung like that so why would he even, no. This is embarrassing. “Y/n?”

“I’m gonna go,” you rushed out trying to move past him to get your things but he stopped right in front of you. “Let’s talk.”

“No, no, I’m leaving, I just, I don’t know why I said that, just pretend I didn’t say anything. Matter of fact just forget everything we just talked about,” you cleared your throat awkwardly pushing your hair behind your ears. He followed after you, “No, you don’t get to just… you can’t just say you’ve been in front of me all along without explaining. You—you can’t stand me, right? So what are you saying? What do you mea—Y/n!”

“I don’t know,” you covered your ears, extremely embarrassed unlike anything Taehyung has ever seen, “I don’t know why I said that. I—you know, we… you’ve got a thing for Soyoung and I, uh, Jungkook, um…”

“Jungkook, what? What about Jungkook?” Taehyung asked going to you again practically running circles in the living room after you, “Because I swear if you just, tell me why you said that, I’ll let it go. I won’t bother you.”

“Well it’s true,” you couldn’t bite your tongue anymore, you don’t know what’s going on. Since the moment you saw Jungkook you were attracted to him. Maybe not as much now as you used to be but you didn’t think about Taehyung like that at all. Right? You wouldn’t do all of this if you did, though, would you ever admit it if you did?

“I’ve been, you know, I’ve been, we’ve been going at it for a while now and you’ve never—I don’t know! I mean, I have been here but you kept pushing for Soyoung. You wanted Soyoung, you didn’t—don’t—want me so you’re just confusing me,” you said trying to add space between you but he didn’t let you, every step back you took, he took one forward. “I don’t want Soyoung.”

“Well you did you until two seconds ago.”

“No. Two seconds ago I was thinking about how badly I want to kiss you right now.”

“Oh god, shut up,” you laughed nervously, “You can’t stand me.”

“You’re right, I can’t stand how much I want you and it’s taken me this long to realize I’ve probably wanted you all along,” he said, chest to chest with you again and still towering over you, “And I can’t stand that I’m really the reason we never tried anything all because of a stupid paper. I can’t stand that I’ve wasted all this time playing those back-and-forth games just because I wanted an excuse to be around you. I hate that I just couldn’t realize that you were right in front of me and I want you to be. So tell me right now if you wanted me too because you wouldn’t have said that if you didn’t.” “I don’t.”

“You’re lying.” “I’m not,” you argued but your voice wasn’t strong enough to soon believable and he was just too close right now.”

“You are.” “I’m not—“ you would’ve fallen back if his hands were cupping your face now, head dipped down to stare into your eyes better. You didn’t say anything, his face just inches away from yours, “Everything you do drives me crazy, even right now when you’re lying to yourself and trying to believe that you don’t feel anything for me when you do. So just kiss me.”

And you did. As much as he drove you crazy, you crashed your lips onto his so suddenly that he was practically stumbling into it. His hands had your hair between his fingers, ruffling it and holding your head in place as he kissed you back in hunger for your lips on his. Your hands were on his biceps for stability, feeling the intensity of the desire with each turn of your heads to deepen the kiss. His lips parted with yours, taking your bottom lip between them and pulling, only to do it again and again and again. Swiping his tongue along it and letting yours meet his, all while walking you back with no direction. The back of your knees hit the couch and you were falling back but not once did his lips part from yours.

Instead, he just crashed over you, practically straddling your lap as he tipped your chin up to kiss you better. You were pulling yourself up from under his legs. Moving to your knees as your hands came up to cup his face and his moved to the back of the couch locking you in. You couldn’t breathe, it was getting harder to and yet you kissed him back feverishly like this was your only chance to do so. And oh, he was going to make sure this wasn’t the only chance. He pulled back with a soft smack of your lips and you sucked in a breath, immediately feeling his mouth attack your jaw, moving down to kiss your neck, just under your ear, his hands going over your clothes hips, sneaking under your shirt to feel bare skin.

Your lips parted in a silent gasp when his teeth began to nip at a spot on your neck, lips sucking gently and then harshly before letting his tongue run over the spot to soothe the pain. Your hands itched along his sides pulling his shirt up or at least at least attempting to and he was pulling it off without another thought in his head aside from kissing you again. You tugged on his hair for a breath and his eyes stared into yours, both panting. You groaned, “You’re so annoying,” and kissed him again, just as rough as before.

Taehyung let his hands slide under your shirt again, this time caressing up your sides pulling your shirt up as he did so and when you parted again, he spoke, “You’re infuriating, and so fucking pretty it hurts.” And kissed you again. He wasn’t even thinking about anyone else right now. What was between him and Soyoung never went anywhere. What he saw with Jungkook let him know that you weren’t anything more than friends even if it had driven him crazy just an hour ago. Right now he’s thinking about how bad he wants you.

You were both moving fast. If you could you’d skip past the foreplay but you wanted all of him right now. It’s why your hands found their way to the hem of his jeans so quickly, looking him in the eyes as his mouth drew open with a gasp as you snuck your hand between brief and jean. You felt his member harden under your touch, immediately reacting to your attention and you were able to feel his length better. He chuckled, “I knew you always wanted me—ahh.”

You smirked giving him a good little squeeze that had his body reacting and him voice shaking mid sentence. His brows furrowed in annoyance, “That’s how you wanna play?” You smiled, “Do I sense a competition brewing?” He laughed lightly immediately pulling back so he could strip himself of his jeans and boxers urging you to do the same and you did, tossing your panties at his face. This is exactly what he meant when he said you two had good banter. Even with the strong desire to fuck it’s becoming playful yet competitive—not something entirely new to you. It’s not like you’re suddenly different people now that you’re about to sleep together. You’re still the same competitive brats as always.

He immediately came back to you, kissing you hungrily as you pushed him down onto the couch. He let you crash over him, eyes going to your exposed breasts and the way you sat just under his belly button, bare pussy on him. Well, this is escalating quickly but the way Taehyung saw it was simple. His attraction toward you had been since the beginning from over a year ago. He was a bigger asshole back then and after the research paper incident he knew it wasn’t going to ever happen. So what’d he do? He forgot about the attraction until he’d be in front of you arguing about something and he’d think about it a little. Then obviously he’d have relationships and so would you, and then Jungkook and Soyoung came to the picture an—what he’s saying is that everyone knew this was a long time coming. Like he’ll be very soon… hopefully.

“Are you just gonna stare or do something?” You asked, hands pressed against his chest, back arched a little, hair to one side staring down at him with lovely eyes. He looked up at you so unbelievably turned on by your existence with his in this exact moment. His lips parted in awe when your eyes met and he was shooting up, and arm around your waist, and attacked your neck with affections.

You slipped to his lap when he sat up but he kept you stable, his member pressed against your heat. The hand that wasn’t around your waist moved to your breasts. He wasn’t shy with the way he groped the plump flesh, kneading it like dough while his kisses traveled down to your collarbone. You were withering in his lap and it only wanted him to grind against your cunt. He left wet, sloppy kisses down your boob as his hand groped the other one. Tongue lather your skin in spit until finally, he stopped at your nipple, mouth fully around it and kissing. Your hand gripped his hair while the other was on his arm for support. He looked up at you as his mouth opened, tongue poking out and swiping across your nipple immediately drawing a reaction from you. Your back arched into him with a shiver and he repeated the action again and again, quicker now.

“Oh my god,” you whined into him, feeling your slick just drip without any barrier to stop it from landing on Taehyung’s hard dick. His tongue licked along your areola before his eyes fell shut and closed his mouth around your nipple again. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. Why was he so good at that? In the middle of your own thoughts, he quickly switched to the next one and you moaned. You took a deep breath, “Okay, okay, stop.”

He did so rather quickly, more alert now. Lips swollen and red, parted and panting. His eyes looked innocent, worried but you just kissed him in response. He happily kissed back shifting you on his lap for friction and suddenly you were pressing him back again to lay down. His hair was messy across his forehead, shielding his eyes a little as his head hit the throw pillow. You took his arm off you and before he could protest you were up and turning on his abdomen. Taehyung couldn’t help but bite into his lip at the sight of your drenched pussy shimmying much closer to his face. Why didn’t he do this sooner? You’ve yet to actually do anything and he’s already more aroused than he’s been in a while.

When he got the hint his hands went to your thighs, helping you align yourself over his head made sure your feet were comfortable on the armrest behind his head. You were more confident in moving forward than he was and he loved it. You wasted no time leaning closer to his cock, reaching a hand around it and pointing it up. His breath hitched moving you closer but not yet on his face. You lifted Taehyung’s hard cock up to your mouth and without another moment of hesitation, engulf his thick head with your lips.

He released a groan staring up at your cunt that was in his face dripping. He licked his lips as your tongue began licking around his head in circles. Taehyung refocused, bringing your hips down further onto his face. His tongue flattened out, licking from your clit up to your entrance for a quick taste. You mewled a little around his cock at the feeling and he repeated it. You both were cramming into the couch but it was surprisingly comfortable even with your thighs around his head.

You take in more of his dick letting your tongue swirl around his engorged length before pulling back and returning to take even more in the next time. Taehyung could physically feel the way you constantly move your tongue and relax your jaw to take him further in and he was hungry for you. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love the rush of power you felt from having him below you even as you took in his cock. Taehyung gently tongued your sensitive flesh making you gasp. He licked around your clit focusing his attention around the sensitive hood as his nose hit your drenched entrance. He worked your clit with his tongue and harshly sucked on it like a nipple all while his hips began to buck into your mouth.

You turned your head to the side as best as you could popping his length out and letting your lips and the tip of your tongue glide along the side of thick cock. When your tongue ran out of sliding space you’d go back up and do it again, a hand sneaking over to his balls. It's not long before you had his entire cock soaked in your saliva and with every squeeze of your hand on his balls, his cock was twitching.

You took his cock back into your mouth when his nails dig into your soft thighs as if urging you for more. Slowly swallowing his length past the point of gagging, eyes blurring with water as you take a quick breath and Taehyung stopped what he was doing. His head fell back with a moan, “Y/n.”

A muffled giggle vibrates up the length of his cock, taking him further by abruptly pulling his dick out of your mouth fully, a line of spit and precum connecting you to it. His cock twitched at the abandon but before he could voice himself, you moved back only taking his tip in your mouth. Then, shoved yourself further down his lip harshly.

One of Taehyung’s hands leaves your hips flying to the back of your head as he tried going back to eating your pussy. It was so hard to focus on your cunt while having his dick sucked on the way you were doing it right. But fuck did it still look tempting to eat whole just staring back at them covered in slick.

You had your own rhythm set, alternating between taking a little bit of his length to the whole, your thumb running along his perineum. Even during sex were you unpredictable, forward and ambitious and he was simping so hard. Taehyung thinks he hears his own heart pounding all the way up into his head. His head was moving side to side, tongue sliding along your pussy, straight as it could be flicking your clit. His nose brushing over your folds obscenely and it’s clear he’s not just eating you out. No, he’s really fucking your pussy with his face like the nasty freak you knew he was all along.

“Tae,” you said breathlessly pulling away from his length letting it hit your face feeling it twitch. He ate your pussy without even a hint of understanding making you try and sit up but he growled making you lay back down. With a whine your hips swiveled against his tongue, hand still stroking his cock kissing the side, “Condom Taehyung. Do you have one?”

And he swears today was just overall a lucky day because lo and behold. He did have condoms. A brand new box he bought a few days ago that was shoved in the drawer of his coffee table when Yoongi let himself in the other day. Knowing he was listening now you moved off of him letting him sit up and reach for the drawer. He moved to sit back, condom ripped open as he began to slip it on. He turned his head to the side leaning toward you until your lips met with a messy kiss. Once he had it on he was pulling away, smiling against your lips, “Turn around for me.”

So you did, elbows on the arm rest as he guided you back to arch the way he wanted to and from behind, lined his member with your ass. It was wet like his lubed condom and he was sliding it down so that his cock would tilt down and tap your pussy before sliding it back up again teasingly, “I’m gonna fuck you so good Y/n, you want that?”

You couldn’t help the roll of your eyes, oh no he wasn’t about to make you sound desperate. You didn’t say anything making him glare at your back and with that he was laying over your back so his mouth was next to your ear, “I can’t hear you.” You rolled your eyes again, “Hurry up or I’ll do it myself.”

This time he rolled his eyes ready for an argument, “Do it yourself then.” And you did, reached a hand under your body to grasp at his cock. He gasped at the sudden action looking down to catch you move his tip to your entrance, lining him up and pushing back. He groaned, falling back over you resting on your back, “Always gotta beat me to everything even taking in my dick.”

A hand snuck under you, immediately going to your tits as he pinched your nipple turning his face into your hair, “You’re so fucking wet, listen.” It’s true, as he dragged his cock out a squelching sound was heard and when he rammed back into you it was louder mixed with both your moans. Your head dropped against the couch, “Fuck, you’re big.”

He smiled planting a kiss on your shoulder blade as he thrusted into you in a quick rhythm. His hand toying with your nipples as the other held your hips in place. If only you could see how indecent the two of you looked with Taehyung’s body completely draped over your backside. His hips thrusting his large cock between your folds, his lips parted with pants of air, and a look of concentration on his face. You didn’t look any better, mouth in an ‘o’ shape, head jostling with each pound of his dick into you, hair over your face.

With Taehyung’s rock hard dick pulsating in your pussy, you were in heaven and he was right there with you. You could feel him slamming into your cervix just about every two seconds. You were fucking yourself back into him with the very little room he gave you to do so. They were both well past the point of cumming and it was getting too messy. Taehyung slams his dick into you, “I’m close. Fuck, I’m close already.”

His rough hand on your breasts as fucked you hard had you moaning in agreement, “Me too. I’m gonna cum.”

His balls slapped against your cunt, hitting your clit with each thrust basically moving the couch with your rough movements. It was all so fast and intense when you opened your mouths it was incoherent moans and calls of his name. Taehyung was no better, grunting into the nape of your neck drenched in sweat.

Neither one of you said a thing and yet you both knew. His cock twitched as your walls tightened and his hips pressed against your ass rutting into you with all his strength before the dam broke. Just as intense as all the tension that has ever been between you, you orgasmed.

Your legs shook under his and he was releasing a string of moans into your ear, sweaty body over yours holding onto the body heat. You turned your head quickly, taking his mouth in yours as you both rode out your highs, cock still thrusting slowly inside you for stimulation. His tongue was out of his mouth along with yours, a nasty French kiss ensued as his body seemed to hold itself back, rising out the wave for only a moment more before he had to move. If he stayed any longer his dick would hurt from overstimulation and the couch wasn’t so comfortable after all. He lifted off of you, sliding back to release your legs from under him and waited for you to sit up.

Taehyung began rolling the used condom off as you flipped onto your back looking completely slumped and out of breath. “You did good,” was the first thing you said resting your feet over his lap as he discarded the condom over his clothes. He didn’t even hesitate over his words as he said, “Ah, you always have a way with words. Poetry honestly.”

“Yeah?” You smirked, “Since when did you come with that conclusion?”

“About two seconds ago,” he chuckled. You just laughed, both seeming a lot more relaxed than before you had sex. He sighed in content, “So, where do you wanna go for our first date.”

“That new restaurant that opened up—“ “The one you wanted to go to with Jungkook? Fat chance, I need to take you somewhere better.”

“You’re always competing over something,” you joked and he just smiled, hand over your legs, naked but comfortable as he leaned over you for a quick kiss. “And you like it.”

You couldn’t even stop the urge to smile. It was actually very funny because even you could admit this was pretty ridiculous. Taehyung hiding a smile behind your shoulder as you sat on his lap. The expression was rising to his eyes as his friends just glared back at him. He had that look that read, I know. You don’t have to say it. I know.

Yoongi was the first to speak, breaking the silence around everyone, “I thought you guys hated each other.”

“Oh thank god you said something first,” Jihyun said with a hand to her chest look absolutely distraught, “I thought you hated him.” Taehyung looked up at you with that, a small pout on his face, “You don’t though, right?”

You sighed with a shrug, “Things change.” Your arm on his shoulder as he held you by the way keeping you put on his lap. Hoseok looked at everyone waiting to see who would say something next and blurted out, “No shit things change.”

Just as he said that he had a scowl on his face reaching into his pocket for something. He pulled out some money and reached across Soyoung to hand Jungkook the money. Jungkook just smirked as he counted it, “I told you I’m always right.”

“You bet on if we’d get together?” Taehyung asked Jungkook who waved a hundred dollars at him. He had a mocking smile on his face, “Yup, but obviously I knew it already.”

“I thought Y/n hated you or something,” Hobi said sending you a glare, “I thought I was about to be making a hundred bucks.”

“Jesus Hobi, read the room!” Jihyun exclaimed, “Sexual tension was on a high when they’re around.”

“Shut up, why didn’t you speak up then until Yoongi said something first,” Hoseok argued with her making her roll her eyes. “Because I was assessing the situation thank you very much.”

“Assessing my ass.”

“Anyways! Yeah not even I’m surprised about this,” Soyoung said motioning around you two with her hands to get the other two to shut up or just date already too, “It all makes sense now.”

“What does?” You asked making them all roll their eyes in annoyance. Jimin groaned, “Why you two never shut the fuck up about each other!”

what the others have gone through because of you two:

“You think Y/n’s smarter than me?”

“Taehyung thinks he’s so hot but he isn’t, right? RIGHT??”

“Wait… why is Y/n being nice to him and not me? Oh she’s so fucking rude, can’t stand her. I’m gonna go tell her that.”

“I don’t get why so many girls go for Taehyung. He’s so annoying and like… not attractive?”

“If you think about it. Y/n’s nothing special. Sure, she’s gorg—I mean decent looking or whatever. Okay and she’s smart. You know uh, funny and she’s got a nice laugh but. She’s nothing special. Ha. HA.”

“I still can’t believe Taehyung switched the research paper. Fuck I’m gonna start an argument with him about it. I don’t care if it’s been eleven months. No, it’s not cause I want to text him.’

‘Y/n apparently fell in love at first sight with Jungkook. He’s not that attractive, I’m better looking right Jimin? Jimin tell me I’m hotter. Jimin! Why doesn’t Y/n think I’m hot? You know what? Fuck her, yeah I’m gonna text her how annoying she is.’

::.

She’s long. I know. A whole 17.3k words but anyway it was fun to right. also they’re both such childish characters :p but in a good way

I’ve never written a kinda funny fic and yall probs aren’t gonna think it’s funny while I’m cackling at some of these one-liners.

also not one person was hurt/offended [jk and Soyoung] by the outcome. they were fine being pawns in your game of love and rivalry if it meant y/n and Taehyung just stopped talking.

p.s: this Taehyung

#kpop #kim taehyung #taehyung smut #bts #bts smut #bts e2l #enemies to friends to lovers

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sugawhaaa · 12 days

Text

YEOSANG FANFIC

Dead city::chapter 1

✩°｡⋆⸜₊˚⊹Opened wound

Warnings:: being chained (?) Yeosang gets mad really quickly and yells a lot

Genre:: angst, slow burn,

Synopsis::when on a trip to an abandoned city to take photos you come across a strange man tied in mountains of chains. After conversing with him you become empathic and want to help this man.

A/N::this is my first time writing smth kind of angsty, not like a love story. Yeosang is just a random man and your just a random girl/person (it's never said the gender but it's implied a few times that it's a woman)

Story note!! This is a mixture of the halateez lore and my own ideas. It's not really a lovers type of thing yet it's just an imaginative story :3

An abandoned and decaying wasteland of a city surrounded you. The only thing you could see for miles was a gray sky and desolate buildings. You held your camera up, snapping photos of these abandoned buildings and old materials around. You then stumbled upon a hat, a fedora. It was in rather good condition in comparison to the dead city. You take a photo of it and squat down to get the perfect shot of it. You stand up and look at the clear image on your camera.

You continue to walk through the city as you look through the images on your camera before stumbling upon a strange building. There was a clear pathway to walk up to it so you decided to follow it. As you walk along the path you look around the city. Abandoned houses with the curtains still blowing in the wind, broken glass from the window. What appeared to be a gas station with wires hanging in the window, the white walls stained with dirt.

You finally got to the entryway of the strange building and after looking at it for a while you realized it was an old stadium. You climbed up the steps cautiously as you held your camera that was around your neck. Once you entered the stadium there was a blank area in the center, a large oval shape with thousands of seats surrounding it. You turned on your camera again and snapped a few shots. As you did so you couldn't help but sense someone's presence. You look around the abandoned stadium before turning back to your exploration.

As you climbed up the rows of seats you heard a strange sound. The sound of metal being dragged on the ground. You turn to look all around you but the sound stops. You tread carefully over to where you heard the sound. The sounds started again and you concluded that it was the sound of someone dragging chains on the ground. You turn one of the corners to see a man.

He was dressed in dark blacks and browns. His clothes ripped and his hair was damp. Your jaw drops in shock and horror as you see the chains wrapped around his body. On each of his hands was a thick metal clasp with thousands of chains on each clamp. He had two massive chains wrapped around either side of his chest creating an X shape. His ankles didn't have nearly as many chains, about three on each ankle.

You look up from the chains to his eyes. They're full of cold rage. He looks like a beast that's about to pounce at any moment. You don't know what to say to him. You'd never seen anyone in a situation like this before.

"C-Can I…" you try to come up with something to say but he just continues to analyze you in disgust. His eyes then land on the badge on your chest. He steps back and grits his teeth, his fists clenched. "I'm not here to hurt you," you warn him, extending a hand out to him before stopping. He steps back again and gets into a defensive position. He grunts in response, hearing your words but not trusting them. "I'm just a photographer," you explain as you hold up your camera with one hand. His eyes dart over to the camera then back to your face.

He continues to judge you, whether to think of you as prey or predator. "Do you have a name?" You ask before setting your camera down. The man turns his head confused as he glares at you.

"Yeosang," he states in one clean tone. He then slowly sits down, landing in a puddle of water from the constant rain in the gloomy city. Your expression softens as you squat down to his level.

"Yeosang," you repeat, trying the name on your own tongue. "How long have you been here, Yeosang?" You ask as you keep a good distance from him.

"Months…maybe years," he explains with hesitation in his voice. It seemed like he hadn't talked to someone in a while. It was like he had to think of how to make the words come out of his mouth. Your face contorts in confusion.

"If you've lived for so long all chained up you must be receiving help of sorts," you think to yourself and Yeosang doesn't speak. "Someone has to be giving you food and water or something," you look up at him, awaiting his response. He turns his head with a grunt.

"I hate…them," he says with weakened eyes. You move closer to him to comfort him but he just jumps back, kicking up his knee to his chest as he sits on the cold concrete.

"Sorry," you sigh before looking up at him again. "Who are they?" You ask genuinely and he takes a deep breath.

"Government," he replies with anger. "Government is all I know," he says with a slight shake to his voice. He seems to be frustrated with the amount of words he can say. He needs to tell you more but he can't. He hisses under his breath and grabs a fist full of his chains.

"That's okay, that's a good start," you reply, nodding your head. "Do you know why you're here?" You ask another question. He seems triggered by the question. It seemed you were poking at a mental scar that hadn't fully healed yet. He just grunted and turned away from your gaze.

"Hala," he replies coldly. Your eyes widen at his words. Hearts awaken, live alive. It was the quota of an underground organization that strived to overthrow the government.

You look at him surprised and his shell instantly hardens again. "Go away," he growls as he sees the hesitation in your eyes. "If you don't like Hala, leave," he hisses. "I don't want your help!" He stands back up again and you jump back in fear. He looks down at your expression, your eyes shaking and your body low to the ground, crying for help. Yeosang instantly softens again. You reminded him of his younger self, in a similar position, crying to the ground. His breaths increase and he turns away from you. His chains rattled as he moved.

You sit there, trying to process everything. You grab your camera and make sure it's unharmed.

"Were you part of Hala?" You ask softly as you hold the camera to your chest. You watch Yeosangs back rise and fall as he takes a deep breath.

"I am a part of Hala," he corrects you. He didn't want to think of Hala as something of the past. They were still living, he would find his members, they'd win in the end.

"Right," you nod your head and keep a safe distance from him. You watch as he sighs, his body relaxing. "Are you hurt?" You ask, nothing red marks on his bare arms and back.

"No," he responds quickly and you sigh. You know he's lying but you can't just hold him down as you inspect his wounds.

"Do you want to be…free?" You ask. It seemed like a pretty obvious question. Of course he wanted to be free. He was chained up for so long he forgot how to speak and interact with humans. But deep down you know he's thinking something else as well.

"I…" he pauses before turning back to look at you, sitting in front of you again as the two of you talk. "I want to get out of these," he holds up his chains. "I want to see my family again," he explains, referring to Halateez. "But, I don't know where to begin. If I get out, where do I go?" He looks down at the concrete beneath the two of you.

You nod as you listen to him. He definitely needed to vent a lot. He hadn't seen a human in potentially years and the mental toll this whole situation would've taken on him. He has been chained up, forced to watch the city of life in the distance while starved and alone."What would I eat? Who would I talk to? When you asked if I wanted to be free, you were talking about my chains. I don't want to just be free of these, I want to be free of this world. I want to escape," he explains with a determined look. You nod, understanding his predicament.

"I have only one more question," you look up at him with sympathy. He node gently, telling you to continue. "What did you do to get caught? How did it all happen?" You ask. You know you're pushing boundaries a little but you really wanted and frankly needed to know. He turns to look away from you again.

"It's complicated. Hala had enough of the government and started a serious rebellious act. We hacked into the government's programs, ambushed them, broke thousands to millions of laws and it started working. People started second-guessing the government and we were heading in the right direction. One kid escaped from one of the schools that the government-owned but once they found out he had left because of our influence, they went crazy," he begins to tell his story, your eyes watching him as he explains it. "Groups of officials were on our case before capturing us one by one. The first time one of the members of Hala was captured we promised him we'd come back for him," Yeosang then sighed looking up at the sky. "But he still waits for us," Yeosang then clenches his jaw and looks in the distance to the city. "He's so close. Right there. Tied up in cords in a lab but he's alive," Yeosangs eyes fill with rage and determination.

You have to sit and think for a moment, processing his story. "I know you don't understand but I need him. I need to fulfill my promise," Yeosang stood up, his back turned to you. You watch as he stares often in the distant city of life. You sigh. You want to free him but he was a criminal and you were a goody two-shoes who always followed commands without question but lately, you've been second-guessing the government and its system.

"I want to free you…I really do but I don't even know where to start and…I could die if I set you free and then go back to the city," you explain sincerely. He sighs as you stand to your feet again. "But I'll be back tomorrow. I need to know more," you explain as you walk to stand in front of him. "I'll be back," you smile and he huffs, turning his head.

"It makes no difference to me," he turns back to hide in the shadows. He sits in his pile of chains as he watches you walk off. You become one with the fog as you run back to your house. Once you're out of his view he yells and hits the bleachers next to him. He was so close to escape but so far.

#ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #halal #hala hala #halateez #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez #yeosang x y/n #kang yeosang #yeosang x reader #yeosang #ateez angst

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kpop---scenarios · 1 month

Text

Whiplash (4)

Pairing: Felix x Reader x Hyunjin

Genre: Street Racing, Gang, Friends to Lovers

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.3k

Taglist: @sheala--marie @kayleefriedchicken @chartrucewhore @cookiesnmilfx @thicccurls @aznstoner

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

“Someone help her! Please!"

Everyone stops. They all stare at your unconscious body. Felix turns his head to look at you, blood pooling around your head. Hyunjin rushes towards you, gently placing his hands on your face as he tries to wake you up.

“You motherfucker!” Felix snaps, pushing a shocked San away from him. San stumbles back, his eyes wide as he stares at you, laying there in your own blood. Felix rushes to you, trying to help Hyunjin help you.

“Call 119! Now!” Felix yells. He watches as almost everyone scatters, all that's left is an unconscious you, Hyunjin, Felix, Chan and San. They don't know what to do. Should they stop the bleeding? Will they hurt you more if they do?

They vaguely heard Chan on the phone, requesting an ambulance urgently. He hangs up the phone and kneels beside Felix and Hyunjin.

“Listen to me right fucking now.” Chan snaps, looking at the men. He can hear the ambulance racing down the highway towards them. “When we're questioned about this and we will be, we were listening to music, hanging out. Things got hectic and Y/N got in-between you two and got shoved by San. That's it. That's the story. Don't fucking stray.” He finishes. San looks at Chan shocked. “Don't fucking look at me like that, you did this.” Chan snaps.

The ambulance pulls up, a police car following closely.

The paramedics rush to you, quickly assessing the situation to figure out the best way to care for you.

“What happened?” The police officer asks, looking judgingly at each man.

“We were just hanging out here, listening to music, and relaxing. These two got into an argument.” Chan explains, pointing to San and Felix. “They started pushing and Y/N tried to get into the middle of it and she got pushed down and hit her head.” He finishes. The cop stares at the four of them as you're loaded up into the ambulance.

“Can I go with her?” Felix asks.

“Me too?” Hyunjin also asks.

“Only a relative or loved one.” The cop tells them.

“We're both her.. uh, boyfriends.” Felix admits, gesturing between him and Hyunjin. The cop stares at him and Hyunjin before waving them off to go into the ambulance.

“You two are coming down to the station.” He says to Chan and San, motioning them to his car.

As the ambulance arrives at the hospital, you're rushed in and immediately seen by doctors who start checking you out. Felix and Hyunjin are forced to wait in the waiting room, with no answers. After hours, the doctor finally came out to speak with the both of them.

“She fell pretty hard, and did a good amount of damage to her skull. But there was no sign of swelling in her brain so far, which is good. She's still unconscious so we're not sure about her memory but it's important to remain positive.” He explains. Both men stand there, feeling like they can breathe, just a little easier but they wouldn't be okay until you woke up.

“Can we see her?” Hyunjin asks. The doctor nods, leading both of them to your room.

Hours later you open your eyes, your vision blurry for a few seconds as you continue to blink to clear them. You had wanted to rub your eyes but there was a weight on both your arms and you couldn't move. You glanced down to see the figures of a man on your left arm and one on your right. You knew who it was in an instant.

“Hi.” You croaked. Your throat was so dry. Both men sat up quickly, staring at you.

“Y/N!” Felix yells. “How do you feel? Do you need anything?” He asks.

“Water.” You whisper. Hyunjin stands up, grabbing you a cup of water as Felix goes to the door, yelling for a nurse or doctor.

A few minutes later you're being checked out by the doctor, he's asking you about your memories, what day and year it was and how much pain you were in.

“I feel okay.” You say. “My head hurts but I assume that's to be expected.” You laugh. Neither Felix or Hyunjin laugh with you. You could see the guilt and worry on their faces and it made you feel bad. You didn't blame either of them for what happened, and if you were going to blame someone it would have been San for being so upset that you caught him cheating.

“That's good to hear.” The doctor smiles as he checks your chart. “We're still going to keep you overnight, and maybe for an extra day or two for observation, you can drink water and eat ice chips but you cannot eat anything else. Just in case.” He says, nodding towards the two men and you before walking out of the room. You were about to say something when Hyunjin's phone began to ring.

“Hey Chan.” He answers. “Yeah, she's okay. They're keeping her for observation though.” He explains. “Okay. Now? Alright we'll be right there.” He finishes, hanging up the phone.

“You guys gotta go?” You ask. Hyunjin nods his head.

“But we'll be back before you know it.” Felix smiles. They both give you a kiss before leaving. You hated this, you hated being injured. The three of you were finally starting your relationship and you were feeling desperate for both of them but now you were stuck in a fucking hospital bed.

As you continued to daydream about those two your head started pounding, worse than it had been. You started to feel like you couldn't breathe, your body began panicking. You were grasping at your neck, hoping you could try and help yourself breathe. The alarms from the machines you were hooked up to started going off.

Three nurses rushed into your room as you started to choke on your saliva.

“Her pressure is dropping! She can't breathe!” one yells, ripping the blankets from your body. You can feel your eyes roll back into your head as your body begins to shake.

“She's seizing!” another one yells as they turn your body to the side. “Call the doctor! Her head is bleeding again!”

Minutes later, you stop seizing. They immediately roll your bed out of your room, rushing you to the OR. One nurse stayed back, calling the two men who loved you and had no idea what was happening.

Felix's phone starts to ring as Hyunjin drives to the clubhouse. “Hello?” He answers.

“Is this Lee Felix?” The voice asks.

“Yes? Who is this?” He asks.

“I'm one of Y/N’s nurses.” She begins. “Something has happened..”

“What!?” He yells. “What happened to her?”

Hyunjin looks at Felix, panic spreads across his face.

“Her pressure dropped, her head started bleeding again and she seized. She's in the OR now, they said she had a brain bleed. Her brain started swelling.” The nurse finishes.

“Fuck. Turn around!” Felix screams, looking at Hyunjin, who has stopped the car and is staring at Felix. “She's in the OR. She has a brain bleed. We have to go back!” Felix yells, looking at Hyunjin.

He takes a deep breath, thinking about what to do. “There's nothing we can do there.” Hyunjin says. “She'll be in surgery for hours. We’ll just be sitting there for hours not able to do anything. Let's just go do the drop and then we'll go back.” Hyunjin says, now stopping at a red-light.

“Fuck this.” Felix yells. “She has no one there. She needs us, if you wanna do the drop, go for it. I'm going back to the hospital.” He finishes, getting out of the car, taking off towards the hospital.

Felix runs.

He runs as fast as his feet will take him towards the hospital, he just can't seem to get there fast enough. He can't breathe. He stops, hunched over with his hands on his legs as he tries to catch his breath, before going to sprint again. He feels so guilty that it's making him nauseous. He shouldn't have left you, he should have been by your side no matter what. As he stands up, he hears tires screeching from behind him. He looks over, seeing Hyunjin, waving for him to get in.

Felix gets in the car and Hyunjin peels off, towards the hospital. “I told Chan what was going on and that we couldn't do it.” He tells Felix. “I feel helpless. It's our fault and I don't know if I can face her man. We were supposed to protect her and we didn't and now look at her. We shouldn't have let her come.” He says, his voice quivering as he tries to hold back tears.

“This was San's fault. Not ours. We couldn't have known this is what was going to happen. You know Y/N, when has she ever listened when told no?” Felix chuckles. “And believe me, as for San, he'll get what's fucking coming to him. But for now, we need to be there for Y/N.” Felix says, thinking of all the ways he can fuck San up. If you don't make it, things are going to end up being much worse for him.

Both men sit in the waiting room of the hospital, nervously twiddling their thumbs. No one had come out to talk to them and it had been at least five hours. Periodically the other boys would call to check up and see if there were any updates but there weren't. The anxiety was eating them both alive.

Eight hours.

Eight hours later the doctor comes out, removing his scrub cap as he looks at both of them.

“It was touch and go for a while.” He sighs. “There was a massive bleed which caused the swelling. It must have formed after the tests which can happen.”

“Is she going to be okay?” Felix asks.

“She's in a medically induced coma right now. We need to give her brain time to heal on its own and this is the best way.” The doctor says.

“That doesn't answer my question.” Felix snaps.

“We're not sure at the moment. It depends if her brain will heal. Only time will tell. You can see her now if you want.” The doctor says, motioning for them to follow him.

They both enter your room, their hearts sink as they look at you with tubes coming out of your mouth, nose, needles in your arm, your head completely wrapped up. They wished there was something they could do for you. Either one of them would trade places with you in a heartbeat if it meant you would be okay.

“Hey, Chan.” Felix says, putting his phone to his ear. “Yeah, she's out of surgery now. She's in a medically induced coma to try and heal her brain.” He explains. “They don't know when or if she'll wake up. It depends on her brain..” he pauses, listening. “Yeah, you can tell Mingi or Hongjoong, any of them really that I'm coming after San and he better fucking watch out.” He snaps. “Yeah, I'll let you know. Bye.” He hangs up the phone. Neither he or Hyunjin speak. They each hold your hand, staring at you, wishing to hear your voice again, see your smile. They hated themselves for not being there for you tonight. They wondered If you were scared, being alone while it was happening? Did you wish they were there for you?

Felix and Hyunjin spent the night with you, both resting their heads on either side of your bed, neither of them really sleeping. Every single noise had them up and alert in hopes that it was you trying to wake up, even though they knew that wasn't going to happen.

“We're going to give it a few more days.” The doctor told them. “Then we'll slowly wake her up and see how she is. So if you boys need to get to work or anything, go. We can call you if there's a change.” He finishes, before leaving the room.

They did need to go. They had things to do, business to take care of but neither of them felt like they could both go. So they went one at a time. Each day, Felix left to do what he needed, doing drops, looking for San, updating the boys on what was going on and then he went back to the hospital and Hyunjin left to do what he needed to do.

Each day the boys returned hopeful. That something, even the smallest thing might have changed. But each day there was nothing, and each day they asked the doctor when they were going to try to wake her up and each day the doctor extended it to the next day.

Two weeks.

It took two weeks before the doctor had finally decided to try and wake her up, but he did it at a time when neither of the boys were there. They had both been called away by Chan, and when the doctor saw them walk out of the room and hospital, he decided that was the time he would reverse the coma. He waited for the drugs to wear off, it took a few hours but he watched as you squeezed your eyes, opening your left eye slightly and then your right. You look around the room taking everything in.

“We're going to remove the tube in your throat, okay?” He says quietly to you. You nod your head as they get to work, gently removing it to let you breathe on your own. You cough a few times, pointing to water which was given to you immediately.

“How do you feel?” he asks you.

“Okay, I think.. How did I get here?” You ask.

Before he can answer, the door swings open, revealing two extremely attractive men.

“Y/N! Oh my god, baby, You're awake.” One cries, rushing in.

“I knew you'd be okay. That's my girl.” The other one smiles. You look between them, then back to the doctor, then back to the men.

“I'm sorry.” You whisper. “Who are you?”

#lee felix #hwang hyunjin #stray kids #skz #skz felix #skz hyunjin #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz stay #felix #hyunjin #kpop fanfic #kpop writing #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop icons #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic

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hotchs-big-hands · 7 months

Text

The Slaughterhouse

Part 1|Part 2

Aaron Hotchner x plus-size!fem reader 7k words

Minors dni please

Warning(s): VERY DARK, graphic murder description, injury, gore, blood, fatphobia, extreme angst (with a happy ending), sort-of enemies to lovers, kidnapping, torture, references to SA, derogatory nsfw comments. Oh and I use the word fat because I personally reclaimed it to not rly insult me as it is merely a descriptive word. I do not use it in an insulting way even once in the series.

Please heed the warnings, this series is going to be dark asf. No smut in this series tho.

An escalating string of gruesomely murdered fat women begin to stack up with no end in sight. What started as an unfortunate routine case for the BAU team, takes a disturbing turn as you become entangled in the unsub's web, danger approaching closer and closer. It's only a matter of time before it's too late to bring the madness to an end.

Hello!!! It's been a bit since part 1 but here we are! My brain is fried but it is what it is. I hope you all enjoy this second part!!

The sounds of people talking outside nearby where a bar and restaurant was, was the only noise when you shut your mouth tight, apart from the pulsing of your heartbeat in your ears. Hotch was staring at you, processing your words. He blinked slowly.

"What do you mean?" He finally asked, his brows pulling together. You shifted around uncomfortably under his dark eyed gaze.

"I mean it's not on my person."

You skittered towards your bag and all but emptied it entirely, sifting through your belongings in an attempt to find the palm sized FBI badge. But aside from embarrassingly showing your undergarments you'd packed to your boss, there was no sign of it. You swallowed and glanced at him.

"I'll check the car you arrived in. Take your shower for now." He said.

With a hesitant nod, you watched him grab the car keys from his jacket pocket and rush out of the room. Exhaling, you returned to the shower room and decided to do as he said, undressing quickly and turning the water on. Upon the temperature reaching the level you preferred, you stepped under the spray and let it cascade down your form for a moment, tilting your head back and letting out a quiet groan. You hadn't realised how tense you'd become over the duration of the day. With your bottle of your favourite scented shower gel, you lathered up and began to massage your tight muscles gently. You didn't want to take too long as you were certain your roomie would no doubt want to take a shower of his own.

When you felt sufficiently clean you switched the water off and stepped out, grabbing your towel to begin drying yourself off. You dressed quickly, strongly regretting your choice of sleep attire even more so when you finally glanced at your reflection wearing it. Entirely inappropriate for your boss to see, you thought as your eyes trailed over the faded baggy crop top and tight pajama shorts that ended just below your rump. But there was nothing else you could do now, so with a sigh you grabbed your discarded clothes and wash bag after you'd hanged your towel up to dry and exited the shower room. Hotch had returned at some point looking frazzled as he paced the length of the room. He paused when you stepped out into the main space. He was frowning, only for him to raise a brow for a split moment when he took in your appearance..

"It's not in the car."

You felt your lower lip twitch.

"Oh. I'll have a look in the station tomorrow then." You mumbled, dipping your head slightly. “I’ll uhm, message the others and ask them if they’ve seen it too.”

Hotch puffed out air from his nostrils.

"Make sure you do, (L/n), this is highly irresponsible of you to lose it." He grunted in response. You blinked rapidly, you would not cry.

"Shower's all yours." You managed to choke out and you rushed towards your side of the bed. You heard him sigh.

"Thanks."

You dared not turn around until you heard the click of the shower room lock, to which you shakily exhaled and stuffed your dirty clothes into the bottom of your go bag. You were positively feeling like the biggest idiot right now, what the hell kind of FBI agent loses their credentials?! You hadn't heard of this happening before. Would you be reprimanded? Be forced to stay working in the office? What if you were deemed unsuitable for the job now and fired?? You hated the thought, a wave of nausea hitting you as coldness sunk deep into your stomach.

No. You wouldn't allow this to happen. You'd check the police precinct tomorrow, it would be okay.

With a resigned sigh, you decided to observe the room around you in an attempt to settle your mind.

As the vast majority of hotels you stayed in, it wasn’t overly decorated. The walls were a dull, pale grey which would give you a headache if you stared at them for too long under the pathetic excuse of a ceiling light. There were only a few canvases on the wall, the art uninspiring and forgettable as they hung slightly crooked. There was a single wooden table and uncomfortable chair towards the farside of the room, already occupied by your boss’ varying paperwork he never seemed to be without, no matter what. There was a simple flatscreen attached to the wall, usually unused by yourself and evidently by your temporary roommate as well. A small closet boasted nothing of interest, but the one thing that stood out was the floor length mirror, which stood near the bed. The placement was certainly… a choice.

You huffed out a breath as you settled down on the bed, laying down on your side facing away from the shower room and your eyes drifted towards the mirror again. You didn’t know why it took your brain so long to register what reflected for you to see until a moment too late; you had a perfect view of that door- and now it was open. Your eyes widened at the view of Aaron Hotchner towelling his short, dark hair dry and leaving it sticking up in odd directions. But that wasn’t the only thing your attention was drawn to.

The white tee shirt shaped around his arm muscles and his broad body, slightly damp from his dewy skin and revealing his, admittedly delicious, physique. You desperately wanted to- no, needed to- close your eyes right now and yet they remained open, drifting down the soft swell of his stomach until they met his underwear, tightly stretched around his strong thighs from the many years of running and cycling the man had partook in. He was certainly…endowed.

“I can see you too, you know.” Hotch’s slightly gruff, tired voice startled you and you met his eye in the mirror. Something flashed in those dark eyes and you felt your cheeks warm.

“Was thinking, sorry.”

“Mhm.”

The bed dipped under the man’s weight as he crawled onto the mattress, tucking under the covers with a quiet grunt. Your heart was pounding and you could only hope he wouldn’t be able to hear or feel it. There was quiet for a moment, then you cleared your throat.

“I… good night, sir.” you mumbled. You felt Hotch shift beside you as he strained to switch the light off.

“Good night.” you heard him respond quietly, and then you were plunged into darkness. You had no idea how the fuck you were meant to get some sleep now.

However, it wasn't until the racing of your heart awoke you that you realised you most certainly had managed to finally doze off. But that wasn't the only thing you realised, with the scenes of your dream seared into your mind causing your chest to heave.

Why, of all times, did your brain have to make you dream of that? How embarrassing, you thought, and attempted to shift to a different position. Which was when you realised your blanket was heavy and your pillow far too warm. Then you heard him.

“Nngh… What is it?” he murmured, voice heavy and deep with sleep. His arm draped over your back tightened a little, pulling you closer to rest your head more on his chest. Surely, he would feel your frantic heart rate. You had to respond quickly so as not to arouse suspicion.

“Everything’s f-fine. Just go back to sleep.”

He grumbled and the grip tightened a little more when you made a second attempt to move.

“No… comfy.” his words slurred as he drifted back to sleep. Oh fuck. Trying to calm your breathing, you embraced the notion you were unmoving from his embrace now.

“Alright, tell me everything.” Emily greeted you the following morning as you made your way to the SUVs in the hotel parking lot after awkwardly navigating around your boss that morning. You scowled.

“Well good morning to you too.”

The dark haired woman grinned at you.

“You’re dodging my question.”

“You didn’t ask me anything.” you said quickly. Emily lightly shoved you in the shoulder with her hand and pulled an exaggerated pout.

“You’re still avoiding answering me.”

A defeated sigh passed your lips.

“Nothing actually happened. Well, besides sharing a bed because our room only had one in it.” you spoke quickly and quietly so as to not garner attention from the others. “It’s a big bed to be fair but still…”

Excitement sparkled in Emily’s eyes, a glint that caused the hair on your arms to raise. You were grateful when you spotted the younger men of the team; Derek and Spencer, exit the lobby and rush towards you. With one final warning glance at your devious friend, you opened your car door when you heard the lock click and ultimately, the moment was over.

“Any luck finding your credentials?” You heard JJ ask you as she approached the car. It would seem the five of you were travelling together today. You shook your head.

“No. I’m gonna have to check at the station.”

“That’s too bad, we could help you if you’d like.” Spencer offered and you smiled slightly, but declined.

“It’s okay. We have more important things to be doing anyway.”

The drive was unmemorable but allowed you some reprieve from a difficult night trying to sleep. But now came the task of trying to find that damn FBI badge. Deep down you already knew it wasn’t in the station, but there were no other options other than to check anyway. It was humiliating, what FBI agent lost their badge? Certainly none you had ever heard about before. Whilst your teammates were in the other room setting up for the day and firing off ideas, here you were frantically searching around whilst police officers leered at you. Eventually, you had to give up. But… that meant you had to inform Hotch you couldn’t find it.

You felt slightly shaky as you entered the spacious office the others were in and it was as though immediately all eyes were on you; it made your heart rate spike uncomfortably. His presence was around you then as he crossed the room to stand before you and you swallowed. You dared not look up at him, but you knew what his expression would be right now as he folded his arms across his broad chest.

“I hope you’re about to tell me you found your badge and that it isn't missing, agent.” he said abruptly, making you clench your hands into fists.

“Sir, I have tried searching. I’ve asked people and tried my best to find it but-”

“-So you’ve lost it then.” Hotch cut you off. “In all my time working in the FBI, I have never encountered an agent who was incompetent enough to lose their badge.”

You let out a quiet gasp, a cold feeling dropping into the pit of your stomach. Around you, several of the others had risen from their seats to mitigate the situation.

“Hotch…” You absently heard from behind the man towering over you, but you couldn’t pay the speaker any mind.

“Sir, I-”

“I don’t think you understand the severity of this, agent.” He cut you off as he stepped closer, dark eyes boring down into yours, “I’m not sure if I can allow you to work on the case until it is found, (L/n). This is highly irrespo-”

This time, you spoke before he could finish you spoke desperately, heart pounding in your chest.

“-Sir! You can’t kick me off the case, I didn’t intentionally lose it! We need everyone working on this one.” you said, earning a disapproving furrow of Hotch’s brow. But just as the man opened his mouth to speak, a hand pressed against his chest and lightly pushed him back, and it was then you realised Rossi had rushed over to separate the both of you.

“Aaron, back off. You know she is still capable of doing her job, badge or no badge.”

Hotch turned his head in the direction of the older agent, his chest puffing as he drew in a sharp breath.

“Dave, this was highly irresponsible of her to lose it-”

“And we can deal with the repercussions of this later but right now we have a case to work on.” The man countered, his tone firm but uncruel. The unit chief exhaled, closing his eyes for a mere moment as he slightly nodded.

“Right,” he glanced at you, the frustrated furrow of his brow dissipating. “Excuse me.”

Without so much as barely brushing against you, Hotch left the room and you stumbled back, overwhelmed by the emotions crashing down on you. Rossi reached out to steady you, bringing you back to reality. And then the sudden flush of tears sprang up in your eyes, making them sting.

“I-I-”

“You’re alright,” Rossi said calmly, holding onto your arms as he pulled you further into the room. “Aaron has been stressed about the badge more than he’ll admit. I’ll handle him though.”

You barely comprehended the others moving around the room until a plastic cup of cold water was gently pushed into your hands and you met the slightly blurred face of JJ as she smiled hesitantly at you.

“Come on, sit over here.”

You sniffled and sipped on the water.

“I should clean up in the restroom.” you murmured. Emily strode towards you immediately.

“Want me to come along?”

You shook your head.

“It’s okay. You guys should focus on the work anyway. I’ll be quick.”

Finishing the cup of water quickly, you didn’t wait for an answer and instead turned away to head out of the room. Your mind swirled, however. Maybe you should have just agreed to stay at Hotch’s side on this one, then perhaps you wouldn’t have ended up doing something as stupid as losing your FBI badge. But now not only was it still missing but he was angry with you, too. You dreaded the following days sharing a hotel room with him for a whole other reason at this point. You sighed as you pushed the door to the restrooms open and trudged over to one of the sinks to splash some cool water onto your face. There was nothing else you could do about that for now.

Not really feeling much better, you exited the restroom and returned to the others. He had not returned. With a resigned sigh, you turned your attention to the boards covered in the stomach-churning photographs of the victims. Beside you, Rossi sidled up.

“Any thoughts?” he asked. You cleared your throat.

“Well… one thing in common these women have, apart from having a similar body type to one another, is their body language in photos.” You began, pointing at the images of the victims from when they were alive. “If you study how they pose, the position they take in groups, their general demeanour; they are very uncomfortable. They don’t enjoy being noticed or the centre of attention.”

The man beside you tilted his head slightly as he studied the images with you.

“Insecurity?”

“Yes.”

“The others never mentioned that.” Rossi countered and you exhaled through your nose sharply.

“I figured. But I mean… this helps us to figure out the profile, right?”

The both of you glanced at one another and he nodded slightly.

“I’ll call Aaron in, ask the others to gather the officers so we can deliver the profile.” he said with a final nod, then he pulled his phone from his pocket and stepped away. Behind you, the rest of the team were gathering and you turned to them with a shuddering breath.

“Figured out a profile.”

There were far too many pairs of eyes upon you now with the station of officers and chiefs gathering before you. But the one pair that unnerved you the most was in the far back, staring intensely in the dim corner of the open bullpen you all resided in. This was your one chance to prove to Hotch you were still highly capable of working, and right now you were unsure you felt entirely confident you could.

You cleared your throat and turned your head to Rossi, who was joining you with the task. He smiled faintly and you wrinkled your nose nervously as you returned to address the room.

“We believe we have an idea of the type of person we are looking for,” you said confidently, eyes drifting around the room. “The unsub is a white male in his late twenties to early thirties, of above slightly more average attractiveness but not too attractive.”

Rossi continued on from you with ease.

“This is important, our victims would not have had the best confidence and so they would not trust following or even talking to someone who appeared far more attractive than the average person.”

“Pfft, I wonder why that is.” One of the officers out front muttered, elbowing the man next to him. Your brows furrowed, and you noted Emily and Derek moving towards the pair- only to be surprised when Hotch beat them to it as he sneered down at the men.

“I would be quiet, if I were you.” he hissed, glaring darkly with those deep brown eyes of his.

“Y-yeah…” the one who had originally spoken shifted uncomfortably in his seat. You glanced up, realising Hotch was watching you carefully. You offered a slight nod and drew in a deep breath.

“The unsub has a clear and distinct dislike for fat women in particular, as evident with the brutality of the killing. The wounds and draining of blood suggests experience with such things, so it would be a good idea to check on facilities that require such skills.”

“Why would the victims go with him if they had such a low opinion of themselves?” the chief of police questioned you. You sighed.

“When you’re someone who has gone through a life of rejection, of no one showing interest in you it affects you greatly.” Your eyes flicked to Hotch, of whom was a little closer this time, but quickly looked away when you met his stare. “But if someone shows apparent genuine interest in you, much like I think this unsub does to lure the victims, you can’t help but let your guard down and let that person get closer to you. You trust them.”

“Sounds like victim blaming.”

You felt your lip twitch. “Actually, I speak from a place of experience.”

Fuck, you needed a moment of respite. Sensing your discomfort, Rossi continued and finished the profile, leaving you to thank the police department for sitting through the profile. Your tight-lipped smile faded as soon as people began to stand and walk away and you exhaled, shaking your head to yourself as you processed everything.

The others approached you, Emily reaching you first and she smiled kindly.

"Not bad. I think you did a good job there." She said.

With a shrug you adjusted your clothing and turned to the board.

"Did my best."

Derek approached now with a creased brow of concern.

“Is it true? Y’know, about knowing from experience.” He asked you softly. Your eyes darted around and your body tensed upon the sight of Hotch speaking just out of range to the police chief, only to lock eyes with you once more.

“I… Now isn’t really the time to talk about that, don’t you think?”

Following your line of sight, he quirked his head and blinked slowly.

“Fair enough, we’ve got your back though, sweets.”

A faint smile dusted your lips in appreciation before it fell and you exhaled. It was then your leader approached, his face stony. Embarrassingly, you busied yourself with grabbing your casefile and flicking it open, hoping to appear invisible to the man. But of course, the cards were against you.

“(L/n).” You heard Hotch call out. You lifted your head up, eyes widening a little.

“Yes, sir?”

His expression was unreadable, but he nodded once at you. “You did very well with the profile, even with interruptions.” he said.

Oh. In return you smiled shyly and shifted from one foot to the other.

“Thank you, sir.”

An unfamiliar emotion swept across his face, only for him to quickly turn his attention to the rest of the BAU. You couldn’t help but feel a dullness in your chest but you tried to ignore it. There was work to still be done.

Irritably, the unsub had been elusive; no evidence on the bodies or a location they possibly could have been murdered before being dumped around the area. Rossi and yourself had even visited the butcher’s shop in town for leads, given the skill suggested in the murders. But in the end they came back with nothing. With nothing else to go by, it came down to the one thing the team hated most: waiting for the killer to strike again. And strike they did two days later.

There was a tension rising terribly between yourself and Hotch at this point, it was clear he was very much thinking about the lost FBI badge understandably, but something else hung over you both, an undeniable looming feeling that made hotel room sharing an even more difficult affair. Every night you found yourself waking up and curled up to him, his arm laid over your plush waist and your head on his chest. He never mentioned it to you, in the morning he was already out of bed by the time you awoke, suit pristine and the man heading out the door to give you privacy to get ready for the day ahead.

But unlike the other days you awoke, your alarm hadn’t gone off and this time the room was empty. Hotch was nowhere to be seen, the room felt absent of his presence. It was… off. Instinctively, you grabbed your phone from the nightstand beside you and pulled up the group chat, feeling your heart sink immediately.

Shit, this was a few minutes ago. As you stumbled out of bed, the phone began to buzz with a phone call. Hotchner. You swiped to answer and you cradled it against your ear with your shoulder whilst you fumbled with your go-bag.

“Sir, I’m so sorry. My alarm didn’t go off-”

“(L/n). Listen to me. There has been another body found.” Hotch cut you off. You froze. The phone dropped from its place between your ear and shoulder and clattered to the ground. It was the only thing to bring you to the present when you heard a crack. Shakily, you crouched and grabbed it and pressed it to your ear.

“(L/n)? What was that?”

You let out a shuddering breath.

“Sorry, dropped my phone. I’ll- I’ll be there as soon as I can, sir.”

You ended the call quickly and scrambled to clean up and dress yourself before you were out the door in a panic. You felt a sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“(L/n), I need you at the crime scene with Reid and I.” Hotch said when you rushed over to the gathered group outside the precinct.

You nodded without question. “Of course.”

The drive was quiet on your end, only barely hearing the words “deceased for a few hours at most” at one point.

“Hey, are you alright?” You heard Reid ask you. You swallowed thickly.

“Sure, sure. I mean, I don’t think anyone really feels alright on the way to a new crime scene.” you uttered, then grimaced. “Sorry, that came out rude. I’ll be okay, Spencer.”

You looked into the side mirror and noted he was smiling softly at you in response.

“You said your alarm didn’t ring.” Hotch said. You shifted in your seat.

"It didn’t, no. I don’t know why though. I have it set for everyday.”

He said nothing else, but it mattered not anyway when the location of the crime scene came into view. Swallowing the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach, you exited the SUV when Hotch parked up and the three of you quickly pulled on hazmat gear on, something you didn’t often do given you were not the ones to visit a crime scene in which a body was still present. A group of forensic were near where you assumed the body to be, turning to your trio when they heard you approach. The way their faces changed when they noticed you though… You didn’t like it one bit.

“Uh… Is she okay being here?” One asked and Hotch stepped forth.

“Yes. She is a highly capable agent as any other.” He said. You blinked a few times, surprised by his words. You certainly didn’t expect the change of tone in regards to you from him.

Seemingly defeated, the figures parted the way and you were able to see the body.

It was as though your heart leaped into your throat.

There, laying splayed out and naked with her legs spread, as all the other victims were, was the body of someone you recognised. Well, as much as you could through the mutilations to her face. Immediately, Hotch and Reid could tell something was wrong.

“(Y/n)...” You heard the older of the two say in warning. You didn’t feel you were fully there.

“I… I knew her.” You managed to muster. “That’s Carla Reynolds; I spoke to her on the first day when Derek and I were talking to people at the bar the victim before her was last seen. I…”

Then you spotted it.

“(L/n).” Hotch said in warning as you knelt. One of the forensic team followed you down as you pointed at the mutilated space between the victim’s legs.

“Something’s there.” You whispered. The CSI carefully reached forward and grabbed the small, flat object that was lodged face upwards in the victim’s genitals. Before they had pulled it out the whole way you knew instantly what it was. You swallowed the urge to vomit. Covered in blood and other substances in their hand was your FBI badge. You barely managed to stand without stumbling, your companions grasping you to steady you when the badge was opened to reveal your photo within.

“Oh god…” You whispered. “I-I someone bumped into me in the bar- I-”

“You encountered our unsub without realising it.” Reid finished. Wordlessly, Hotch grasped your upper arm carefully and pulled you away from the scene, the young doctor following. Your eyes couldn’t leave Carla’s lifeless form, not until the broad form of Hotch blocked your way.

“(L/n). You are to stay with Reid, I’m calling the others and we are returning to the station immediately, are we clear?” His voice was gentle, but tinged with urgency as his dark brown eyes searched your face. You nodded numbly. He swallowed and gazed over your shoulder at the young man. “Reid, stay with her. We need to make a move, quickly.”

You felt the world spiralling around you, your feet not quite grounded, not the air upon your skin or the fabric on your skin. The unsub knew about you and now… Now he was toying with you.

Interrogation room chairs were never comfortable, but now the posture it forced you into was causing a dull ache in your back. It was decided you would try to talk it through, find out if you could remember whoever it was that had bumped into you that day. Your mind couldn’t stop replaying the crime scene. Carla’s body, the badge extraction… You didn’t feel on Earth right now.

The door behind you opened and you flinched violently, your chair squeaking on the shiny floor.

“Hey, it's okay. Just Reid and I.” You heard Derek’s voice. You cleared your throat as the two rounded the table to sit opposite you. This wasn’t a position you ever expected to be in. Your fingers picked at the hem of your shirt. There was silence for a moment as the two figures studied you.

“(Y/n), we don’t need to do this now.” Reid said cautiously. Your eyes finally lifted from where they had been staring at the table.

“We do. Carla was alive up until seven hours ago.” You abruptly responded then drew in a sharp sniff. Derek leaned forward in his chair.

“You better not be blaming yourself right now, sweets.”

“By being part of this investigation I’ve directly caused a woman to be murdered.” You scoffed. “Didn’t even fucking notice the bastard when he was there that day.”

Reid knitted his fingers together and laid them on the table, opening and closing his mouth a few times as he thought about what he wanted to say.

“Neither yourself or Morgan did, though. Our unsub is trying to get into your head right now, you know this.”

Swallowing thickly, you curled in on yourself in the chair.

“I wish I’d just lost my badge just because I’m a fucking idiot. Instead, I lost it because I was too stupid to consider that I would attract the unsub’s attention.” You said bitterly.

Derek frowned.

“You’re not stupid or an idiot. This is all on the unsub, not you.”

You let out a sharp, humourless laugh.

“Oh I am the biggest fucking idiot here, Morgan. And now Carla is dead.”

Another beat of silence, followed by a saddened sigh hung in the air.

“Alright… Let’s just try and help you think back to that day, see if you remember any faces at all.” Reid said after a moment in a slightly croaky voice.

Your eyes drifted shut. You had to remember for Carla, for all of them.

However, the next hour was aggravating and ultimately fruitless, much to your dismay. Why… Why couldn’t you remember? This was unfair, you felt ashamed. You didn’t know who had decided to call off the interrogation, only remarking on Emily and JJ coming to your side and leading you to an empty office so you could have some space for yourself. You ignored their expressions of concern when you declined their offer for a drink and instead settled onto the rather uncomfortable couch that was placed by the far wall. You hadn’t seen Hotch since returning to the station, not that you were in the right frame of mind to do so now. At this point you felt hollow, unconsolable. You had been dragged into this mess and now there was a young woman dead because of you. Your head was hanging low, staring at the carpeted floor of the office as you wondered what you could possibly do now.

It was only when you heard distant, distressed voices from outside the office that you raised your head and glanced out of the window to the rest of the precinct. Two figures, a man and a woman who both appeared to be in their mid to late fifties, were rapidly storming to your location after spotting you through the glass. But by the time you realised who they were it was too late, the man barging through the door and the both of them rushed inside.

“You!” The man shouted, pointing at you. This was the Reynolds, Carla’s parents. There was no other possibility.

You shot up from where you sat and held your hands open in surrender.

“Sir, I-”

“You’re the one from that picture!” The man was toe-to-toe with you, tears streaming down his red cheeks. His wife let out a sob as your eyes flicked between the two figures.

“Sir, please allow me to-”

Blinded by grief and anger, Mr Reynolds grasped the front of your shirt and pulled you towards him, shaking you slightly.

“Don’t fucking talk, you got our daughter killed!”

The wife stared at you, her eyes were filled with utter rage and heartbreak. Your chest felt tight.

“Why… Why did that bastard have your photo?” She spoke, her voice was thick with tears. Your heart rate quickened. “Why did you have to talk to our Carla?!”

Your mouth opened and closed, but you couldn’t speak. The room was becoming fuzzy. Suddenly, there were multiple people in the room ripping the father’s hands off you and pulling the couple away as they fought with them.

“It’s your fault our daughter is dead! You got our daughter fucking killed!” the father’s screech was fading in and out as the pulsing of your blood filled your ears. You were completely trapped in your mind, staring at the hatred in their eyes.

“Get them out of here!” One voice cut through the paralysis. Aaron Hotchner. You blinked, then stumbled backwards. Hands reached for you and you flailed.

“D–don’t touch me!” You stuttered, struggling with whoever was grabbing you.

“Hey, it's okay! It’s us!” You heard Emily call out to you, but it was too much. Your mind was fractured, too chaotic and overstimulated. The room was too busy. You choked out a whimper and pulled away.

“Alright, everyone out. And find out who let them in here and why.” Hotch snapped, his voice a beacon and grounding you a little. It was neither sharp, nor grating and as the crowd filtered out of the room you collapsed to your knees and your hands came to hide your face. The following silence throbbed in your ears, a roar which threatened to swallow you whole.

“Agent (L/n).”

You didn’t move.

“Why do you call me that?” You finally whispered. Hotch knelt down to sit opposite you, keeping a safe distance to not overwhelm you.

“I’m sorry, it’s a force of habit. I-”

“-I’m hardly much of an agent, sir.” You cut him off, missing the surprise that arose on his face.

“I’m sorry? I don’t understand what you mean.”

You wet your lip as your hands dropped from your face.

“Nevermind, it doesn’t matter.”

Dissatisfied, Hotch frowned and leaned forward slightly.

“No, tell me what you mean.” He demanded. You just couldn’t though.

“It really doesn’t matter, sir. Forget it.” You pushed up from the ground and smoothed out your clothes, although at this point you no longer cared for your appearance. “We should go, there’s no point sitting around.”

Without waiting for him to stand up or speak, you exited the room and through dull eyes you spotted the couple being ushered into a separate room. You were thankful they didn’t spot you, you supposed.

“(Y/n), what they said to you…” JJ trailed off when you returned to the group, noting the defeated slump of your shoulders.

“Don’t. I really don’t want to hear it.” You muttered.

Derek folded his arms and huffed slightly.

“They’re wrong. The only one to blame is the unsub.”

You had nothing more to say though, instead drifting your attention to the new photos on the board. You swallowed and glanced away from the photos of Carla from when she was alive. Bile bubbled in your stomach when you realised pictures of your FBI badge were on there too. It shouldn’t have turned out this way. Upon the board was a map of the area with pins showcasing the locations the victims were last seen and where their bodies showed up. It appeared random, or atleast at first it did. The butcher’s shop remained in the centre of it all, a street with many businesses including a grocer’s, a handiwork business, a pet groomer. But investigating this area had already brought nothing of note to the case. You sighed quietly and wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Maybe they work one or more part time jobs.” You finally suggested aloud.

“What?” Rossi joined you at the board. You shrugged.

“Well, it’s just an idea. But wasn’t there a handiwork van parked out front of the butcher’s shop we visited the other day?” You turned to him, your brows furrowing. “Same company branding as the handiwork shop on the same street.”

“There was, yes. I originally chalked it up to there being no space for the van to park that day. But perhaps it’s worth looking into.”

“We should check back at the butcher’s and visit the handiwork business as well.” Hotch said from behind you. You hummed and made a move to grab your jacket, only to have his hand take hold of your wrist gently. “I think you should stay back here.”

“But-” You wanted to protest, but the look in his eye silenced you.

“Please, just stay here for the rest of the day.”

Fuck it, you pulled your arm from his grip and settled down in one of the chairs.

“Fine.”

Through tired eyes you watched everyone besides Hotch and Rossi gather their jackets and rush out, leaving you with the eldest members of the team. It was nothing short of humiliating in your mind. But you had reached a point where you had no more fight left in you to argue.

The handiwork shop wasn’t open, you later found out. The butcher’s shop had two different workers in than when you were there last, neither fitted the profile, however. Some vital information had been found though, an employee who worked part time as a butcher in the back of the shop and a travelling handyman. Derek had called Penelope to find an address for the man; James Humphrey, and aside from you and Reid the team had stormed his unassuming home with the swat team. He wasn’t there, nor was there anything out of the ordinary there either. And now… Well, you were walking back to the hotel room finally.

You were just tired, not for sleep, just tired. Hotch didn’t try to force conversation with you, knowing you needed some quiet to process the events of the day. Upon opening the door you were faced with the frantic disarray of your clothes and unattended sheets, the memory of the morning feeling so distant now.

You settled down on the mattress, avoiding your discarded clothes for you were not quite feeling ready to move them just yet. Behind you, Hotch toed his shoes off and discarded his jacket on the chair before running his hands through his short hair, creating a “hedgehog effect”. He gazed over at you helplessly, his face slightly contorted in concern.

“(Y/n), would you like to take a shower first?” He offered gently, you craned your neck to glance at him and smiled weakly.

“It’s okay. You go first, sir.”

“You sure?”

You nodded and cleared your throat.

“Yeah. Thank you though.”

There was no movement at first, then you heard the rustling of Hotch moving behind you, then the door to the shower room clicking shut. You waited. The lock clicked, but you waited still. Only when there was the sound of the shower switching on did you cautiously rise to your feet, making sure the mattress didn’t creak. You checked your holster; gun still there. You eyed the closed shower room door. The sound of the water was different, telling of Hotch standing under the spray. Carefully, you made your way to the hotel room door, slipping the car keys from Hotch’s neatly discarded jacket and, with your room key, you let yourself out and locked it quietly behind you. The corridor was empty, hopefully the others wouldn’t catch you right now. Every step out of the hotel filled your stomach with anxiety, but you needed to move quickly before your hotel roommate would finish his shower.

When you were finally behind the wheel of the car you had previously travelled back to the hotel in a mere 10 minutes earlier, you exhaled and started the engine. You knew what you had to do now.

From bar-to-bar, you checked without any luck. By the time you decided to check your phone, standing in a crowded and noisy club, you panicked at the sight of 20+ messages and 12 voicemails and even more missed calls. At that point, the phone buzzed again. Hotchner’s name flashed on screen. You swallowed thickly and pressed it to your ear after swiping to answer, feeling a sense of deja vu from that same morning.

“S-sir.”

“Where the hell are you?!” He hissed frantically down the line. You grimaced and cleared your throat.

“I… I needed to clear my head.”

“Sounds extremely noisy wherever you are to be doing that. So I will ask you again, (L/n), Where are you?��

Before you could answer you felt something pointed press into your back, not enough to pierce through the fabric of your shirt, but enough to make itself known.

“I…”

“Careful now, agent (L/n). Choose your next words carefully.” An unfamiliar male voice sneered behind you. You felt nauseous as you reached for your gun. He chuckled when your hands brushed against the now empty holster. “Whoops.”

“I… I have to go.” You said, then ended the call and pocketed the device. There was a chuckle behind you.

“I suggest we go outside, don’t you think?” The unfamiliar voice said. The blade pressed in deeper, this time touching your skin. You swallowed.

“Fine.”

This really couldn’t be happening, surely not. But as you stepped outside again into the cool air of the night you felt the knife press into you still when you tried to stop walking.

“Turn left and keep going until we get to the end of the street.” The man said. You followed his instruction, forcing yourself to relax. As you turned down the street he had instructed you to do so you noted it was dimly lit. Fucking fantastic.

“Alright, now stop.” The man commanded you. You stood still. Your eyes widened as you realised what vehicle you had stopped beside. The handiwork business logo mocked you on the side of the van you’d seen days prior. “Mmhm, you’re very receptive to commands, good piggy.”

You wanted to turn around, but as you made the move to step and face the man he grabbed you roughly, and you felt a sharp sting in your neck. A needle. Your eyes widened and you struggled, attempting to open your mouth to scream but he had already covered your mouth with his palm to silence you. He was strong, very strong. The prickle of whatever he had injected into you spread through your body and the world around you started to blur. And then, you were lost to the world.

Dun dun dunnnnn omg I wonder what will happen next?? (Not good) thanks so much for reaching the end!! If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know!

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x plus size reader #criminal minds x reader #a writes

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