#but tell him he makes a smacking fried rice and he’s on the floor melting

[pixiesnooze]

kageyama blushes with his whole face, ears and all when he gets complimented on anything other than his volleyball skills

[brockadoodles]

Gumbo, Football Sundays, and Christmas - q. hughes

AN: this was totally named something else before, but honestly I like this name better. So here’s holiday Quinn floof to celebrate the return of my main squeeze, the quinn to my brock, the oh so wonderful, @pettypetey​ If any of you are mean to her, its on sight, ily kyn <3

Word Count: 3759

Warnings: None :)

You carefully walked over to the couch where Quinn was sitting on his phone with two hot bowls in your hand. You cleared your throat to grab his attention, handing him the steaming bowl of your favorite homemade potato soup, something that his trainer would absolutely kill him for eating, yet he did anyway because you made it and he openly admitted that it was one of his favorite things. Quinn couldn’t cook to save his life, something that you had attempted to remedy when you became friends and found out that he got most of his meals from the rink or the Tanev family. But after one night where he spilled an entire pot of gumbo on your kitchen floor, you settled for doing the cooking or letting him pay for takeout whenever he came over, sparing your poor floor from another huge mess and your own sanity over wasting that much time on food only to not be able to eat it. 

You sat down on the couch next to him, your thigh pressed up against him due to the nature of how small your old Ikea couch was. You set your bowl down on the coffee table and picked up the remote, scrolling through the various options on TV until you spotted a marathon of cheesy Christmas movies listed on the Hallmark channel. 

“I’m absolutely not watching a Christmas movie with you, it’s not even thanksgiving yet,” Quinn frowned as you moved through the various options on the tv, each movie title becoming a worse holiday-related pun as you scrolled further into the depths of the Hallmark channel. 

You glared at him and for a moment you contemplated why you were even such good friends with someone who clearly had no sense of what Christmas joy really meant. Obviously, you knew that he didn’t celebrate Christmas, but you also knew that he knew how much comfort these movies brought you. You used to spend hours watching them in November and December with your dad as a child, and when you moved to Vancouver, that quickly became one of the things you could do that reminded you of home.   

“Quinn I will absolutely kick you out of my apartment,” you warned, queuing up one of the movies whose premise was likely about some small-town person who needed to save their business and the way that happens was through a Christmas miracle. It didn’t matter how similar or terribly low quality these movies were, you loved them and happily watched them consistently as early as September each year. Quinn should have considered himself lucky that you waited until November before putting one on with him there. 

“You would never,” he smirked at you, wrapping an arm swiftly around your waist and pulling you into his chest. Quinn was always affectionate with you, something that you had found yourself readily falling into. You would never admit it to him but Quinn was your favorite person, and as the months had progressed his affections have sparked daydreams in your head of what it would be like if he took it one step farther with you. 

The two of you sat in silence next to each other as the opening credits of the movie began to play as you enjoyed the warm soup. It was what you considered the perfect November evening, your favorite movies, your favorite meal, and your favorite person all in one sitting as the rain fell outside of your apartment. 

You pulled the dark green throw blanket over both of your bodies as the movie continued to play, Quinn rolling his eyes and audibly groaning at the cheesy dialogue that was happening on screen. 

“Shhhh, I’m trying to distract myself from you,” you whacked him in the chest, feeling his body vibrate softly as he laughed at you. He grabbed your hand, focusing on playing with your fingers lightly, sometimes threading his own through them. His actions were causing a flutter in your stomach and a blush to rise on your cheeks each time he held your hand in his, and the movie was offering no distraction from him. 

Quinn was a constant for you, a presence that was always there whether that meant in your mind and heart as you thought of him, or physically there on your couch watching Christmas movies with you just because you asked. He had been your friend since he started playing in Vancouver, the two of you frequently running into each other at a hole in the wall Chinese place near your apartment. Somehow the chance run-ins had become Sunday nights in his apartment where he always had your favorite fried rice and football queued up for you provided he didn’t have a game of his own. 

Quinn fussed around with your fingers and hand for the entirety of the movie, if someone were to ask him to summarize anything that had occurred over the last two hours that you were nestled into his chest, he simply couldn’t do it. He couldn’t focus on the movie, or the white noise of cars passing by outside and the rain steadily pouring down, all he could focus on was your hands and your breathing as you watched the movie. Quinn hadn’t admitted it to anyone, probably not even fully to himself yet just how attached he was to you. You were his favorite person, by far. His quiet demeanor never seemed to bother you, and you had the ability to calm him down yet challenge him when he needed it. You never made him feel like he was Quinn Hughes of the Vancouver Canucks, instead, he felt like just Quinn with you, a feeling he only ever experienced when he was back home with his family in Michigan. It might not have been obvious to him, but everyone else knew he was as in love with you as someone could be with a person they weren’t actually with. Even his mom asked about you frequently, smiling as he would tell her whatever mundane thing about you that he had thought of that day. You were the only person he willingly let this close to him, and people noticed. 

“What time is it?” You groaned, moving from his lap. Your back was slightly stiff, and you were kind of warm as you peeled the blanket from both of your bodies. The tv was turned off, and the sky outside was pitch black. Quinn slowly opened his eyes, a soft and sleepy smile on his face as he pulled you back into his chest. 

“Sleep time.” He hummed. You laughed softly and pressed your hands into his chest. 

“Come on, let’s go to bed, q.” 

A few weeks later, after American Thanksgiving had come and gone, you found yourself surrounded at a small table with some of the other young Canucks at a holiday charity event. Quinn had practically begged you to go with him to the fundraiser, complaining that he had no idea how to decorate gingerbread houses, and if you weren’t there to help him then Brock and Petey would never let him hear the end of how ugly he ultimately would turn out. You agreed pretty quickly, rolling your eyes at his concern and reassuring him that he shouldn’t feel bad even if his was the ugliest gingerbread house of the entire group.

Quinn was entirely out of his element as the kids tossed around various candies and made a mess at the table you were all sitting at together. His eyes were wide and he was quietly focussed on his own tragic house. You watched him try to concentrate on building a roof, struggling to hold in your laughter, and Brock and Elias relentlessly teased his efforts. 

“Look Quinn, mistletoe!” Quinn shot a look to Brock instantly at his words, his eyes shooting daggers into his friend as he held mistletoe up above the two of you. You sat there in shock, silently hoping that Brock would simply let this whole thing go without a fight so that you wouldn’t end up embarrassed and hurt. Unfortunately for you and him, the kids instantly jumped at the chance of forcing you to kiss, almost all of them egging it on and making kissy faces at the two of you.  

Quinn swore he was going to force Brock and Petey to block 50 of his shots next practice for how they were acting. It was bad enough that the kids were hounding him to kiss you, but he didn’t need it from his friends who knew about his long harbored crush on you. You took it all in stride though, a slight blush to your cheeks that Quinn found himself melting even moreover. It also didn’t help that you were there, wearing one so his jerseys, his name on your back. He wanted to kiss you, but the last thing he wanted was for you to think that it was all the accumulation of these pesky kids bullying him into it. 

Quinn tried to brush off the attempts at pushing the two of you together. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to kiss you, he did, but he wanted it to be under his own terms and a moment that was more special than at a fundraiser event with a bunch of children and Brock watching. He shook his head at Brock, mouthing for him to cut it out. Brock was having none of it though, knowing that a kiss was a long time coming between you and if Quinn wasn’t going to make the move quickly, then he was going to take advantage of the situation and attempt to get things moving between you. About every guy on the Canucks roster had about had enough of Quinn talking about how much he liked you without doing anything about it, and Brock saw the opportunity and took it. 

“Pucker up kids, there’s mistletoe now. You can’t break the Christmas law that is mistletoe,” Brock smirked, hanging the mistletoe above both of your heads. He knew exactly what he was doing, and Quinn wanted to smack the not so subtle smirk off of his face.

You grabbed his arm, turning to face him with a soft smile on your face. You almost felt bad for him, sensing how uncomfortable he was at the situation, but something about the way he was carrying himself had you hoping that maybe he did want to kiss you and that had you fluttering with excitement as you leaned in. Quinn just looked at you nervously, unable to react as you quickly grabbed his face, and softly pressed his lips to yours. The kids cheering in the background, and Elias and Brock smirking at the success of their efforts. It was almost too much, but he found himself grabbing your cheek and kissing you back, his heart beating so fast and loud he was sure that you would hear it. 

You smiled into the kiss, pulling back with a bright crimson shade present on your cheeks, a wide-eyed Quinn in front of you. For a moment you thought maybe you had messed everything up, maybe Quinn had absolutely no feelings for you and that’s why he was looking at you like he looked at most other people who he didn’t know. But it didn’t take Quinn long to smile and grab your hand, lacing your fingers together and going back to decorating the tragic gingerbread houses sitting in front of you, a soft smile present on his face the rest of the afternoon. 

Quinn has debatably taken your ugly Christmas sweater idea a bit too seriously, so seriously in fact that you were genuinely impressed when he came to pick you up in a dark green holiday sweater, complete with a reindeer and light up antlers on his chest as you opened your front door. You laughed a bit, shaking your head as you took him in. You found it sweet that he made the extra effort, knowing that you were in a bad mood and probably just wanted to cheer you up. You wordlessly grabbed your bag and locked your door, following Quinn quietly out to his car. 

The drive to Bo and Holly’s was quiet, Quinn focused on the dark roads as he drove. You watched out the window, looking at the shiny pavement that was slick with the steady rain that Vancouver knew for the majority of the winter. Things with Quinn had felt weird since you kissed him under the mistletoe, you couldn’t explain the shift because as much as you hoped the kiss would show him your feelings for him, he never brought it up. You supposed that you were partially to blame, you could have put your heart out there with him, but you also felt like you had already done that by kissing him those weeks ago, and him not saying anything only sank your heart further. So instead of dwelling on it, you tried to enjoy your time with him as usual, pushing your feelings to the side in hopes that in time they would evaporate and you would be okay just being his friend again. 

You fumbled around in your bag as he parked outside of the Horvat’s house, flicking his light-up sweater on with a soft smile as he moved to unbuckle his seatbelt and get out of the car. 

“Quinn wait.” You started. You reached out and grabbed his thigh softly, pulling your hand back quickly when you realized what you were doing, your nerves bubbling up into your chest. You pulled a small wrapped box from your bag, fiddling with it in your hands as he watched you carefully. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as you handed him the present. 

“Happy first day of Hanukkah.” You smiled. Quinn grinned at you in response, his heart softening at you remembering. Not that he thought you forgot, but you were after all parked outside of his captain’s house, dressed in ugly Christmas sweaters, about to attend the annual Canucks Christmas party. So while he didn’t think you forgot, it meant a lot to him that you vocally remembered and thought of him enough to get a gift. 

Quinn carefully unwrapped the present and shook his head as he pulled the item from its box. He ran his hand over the keychain, the New Orleans Saints logo clear as day on the charm. 

“I should have known not to expect something serious.” He joked as he put the keychain on his keys, a small act that caused butterflies to rush into your stomach. 

“Yeah well, your taste in football sucks so I had to remind you who you should be cheering for.” You replied, smirking slightly at him. Quinn leaned over the center console, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek so quickly that you were sure you didn’t even have time to take one breath as he pulled away. Your eyes were wide and your mouth slightly parted at his outward display of affection, no sign of him thinking anything of it. You gulped a bit as you tried to hide the blush on your cheeks. Quinn didn’t say anything, instead, he smiled and climbed out of the car, waiting patiently for you to grab the punch you made and join him on the short walk to the front of the house, the moment between you quickly passing as you headed into the party. 

You walked into the home, smiling in awe at how beautiful the decorations were. Your eyes wandered around the room, stopping on the huge tree in the living room, covered with red and green ornaments and lights. The whole house smelled like fir, and it was warm and inviting as you starting noticing the various players and their families who were scattered throughout the room. 

Holly led you into their kitchen to help you get the punch set up for the rest of the guests. She took the large pitcher from your hands and set it on the counter. Quinn had been pulled another direction from you and was now talking with Elias in the living room as you were in the kitchen with Holly. You were a little nervous being alone with her, having only met her a handful of times at various events that you had gone to with Quinn. But she offered you a friendly smile and the first glass, which helped your nerves settle. 

“Ah, Mrs. Huggy! You’re here!” You heard from behind you, an audible gasp at the nickname escaping from your lips as Jake slid up behind you and hugged you. You quickly turned out of his grasp and shot him a glare, glancing past him in hopes that Quinn hadn’t heard his friend call you that. 

“Jake! Shut up!” You whispered harshly, whacking him lightly in the chest. He just laughed at you in return, leaving you alone in the kitchen with a now smirking Holly and a tint on your cheeks that you were hoping would go away before Quinn came back to find you. You took a long sip of your drink, resigning yourself to the fact that this night was probably going to be long, and you definitely needed the liquid courage to get yourself through it. 

About an hour and two drinking games later, you found yourself tipsy and less nervous around Quinn and your friends, them seemingly forgetting about your unrequited crush in favor of arguing who got to have him as their beer pong partner, something that Quinn was shockingly undefeated at. 

You walked into the kitchen, bypassing Brock who was leaning against the counter, typing away on his phone. He didn’t notice you as you walked by him and over toward the drinks that were on the counter, refilling yours and taking a moment to yourself. You didn’t notice that Quinn had followed you into the room, jumping slightly when you heard his voice coming from behind you. 

“Hey so remember when you kissed me?” You nearly choked on your drink, the contribution you had decided to bless the party with, a punch that only came out during the holidays, containing what you could only describe to people as 90% alcohol and a 10% chance of blacking out. You were only on your third cup, not near inebriated enough for this potential conversation with Quinn. The truth was that you of course remembered kissing him, the feeling of it had been cycling around your brain since the charity event last week, but he never brought it up with you, so you were forced to pack your feelings back up into a tightly taped box, hoping that one day you could pull said box out and give it to him properly. 

Quinn however had consumed almost four cups of your famous Christmas party punch, sending him well on his way passed tipsy and onto the train towards the loud drunk you rarely saw from him. He had wanted to kiss you again, a secret tucked deep in his chest that was bubbling up to the surface with the more drinks he had. He took in your appearance, your hair was down and you had a slight blush to your cheeks from your makeup, the Christmas sweater hanging from your body was stupid and endearing and all he could think about was tossing it onto the floor. 

“Mhm, yes I do remember something of that sorts happening, Quinn,” you said, smirking softly at him, a complete act to hide your growing nerves. Quinn smiled the widest drunk smile you’d ever seen, and you couldn’t help but appreciate how cute he was. 

“Can I kiss you this time?” He asked, loud enough that Brock turned his head from where he was standing, a few feet away in the kitchen as he was on his phone. He raised his eyebrows at you, smirking a bit before turning and walking out of the kitchen, leaving you and Quinn to yourselves as your heart beat faster in your chest. You gulped back the rest of your drink, setting it down and stepping toward him. Quinn’s hands instinctively went to your waist, pulling you in closer with a lazy smile on his face and a soft expression in his eyes. 

“You gonna kiss me or what, Quinn?” Your heart was pounding so loudly, you were thankful for the chatter coming from the kitchen, someone yelling about winning what must have been that round of beer pong. Quinn smiled at you and it only made things worse, the moment feeling like it was hanging in time as you waited not so patiently for him to press his lips to yours again. You almost thought you were imagining the entire thing as he grabbed your cheek, leaning in and closing his eyes. As soon as his lips touched yours you melted into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging softly on his dark hair. You smiled into the kiss, not caring who was watching because all that mattered was Quinn. 

Quinn pulled back and continued to hold you, a blush evident on both of your cheeks and smiles that were big and wide. You buried your head into his chest and he kissed your head, no words needing to be spoken between you, it was like you both knew exactly what the other person wanted to say. You knew how Quinn felt, and he knew how you felt, your hearts practically beating in each other’s ears as you shared a not so private moment in the kitchen, a cheesy Hallmark movie type ending that you loved. 

“In case it isn’t obvious, I really like you.” Quinn murmured, running his hand softly along your hip as he looked down for your reaction. You leaned up and kissed him once more, smiling into it and squeezing him gently. 

“I like you too, even if you hate Christmas movies and have terrible taste in football teams.” You said, earning a laugh out of your favorite person. The two of you spent the rest of the party stealing drunk kisses together, your minds fuzzy with the not new feelings but new ability to express them openly with each other, regardless of anyone else’s opinions or comments. Quinn was absolutely your favorite person, and you couldn’t believe you were finally getting to be with him in the way that you had wanted to for months, even with his stupid reindeer sweater on. 

[nose-bandaid]

stud.hui.o fanatic

hello!! i see that your requests are open so,,, could i request a non-romantic gender-neutral reader & hui scenario where the reader brings food to the studio late at night and convinces hui to eat and get some rest bc everyone is worried abt him? maybe with some platonic hand-holding.........? thank u so much 😖

Hui (Hwitaek) x (gender neutral) Reader - platonic fluff:D | 2.1k words

synopsis: late night phone calls weren’t uncommon when you’re lee hwitaek’s best friend, because more often than not, the man is sucked into the void known as his studio, and it’s your responsibility to drag him out of there.

a/n: hey there anon!! gosh when i say that i loved this prompt i really do mean it, so i hope that you enjoy this fic and that it’s what you were looking for:) apologies for the multitude of italicized words they just felt necessary.

=====

Your phone had to buzz endlessly for a second time to bring you to your senses. It was far too early in the morning for a phone call, and typically, you would’ve just ignored it and gone back to bed. But when you read the caller ID, you begrudgingly hit the answer button.

“Wooseok?” His name came out slurred as you tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes. “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“Hi y/n, sorry to call you at this time, but Hui’s been in the studio literally all day, plus for like, half of yesterday, and we can’t get him to go home and rest. Practice ended like an hour ago, but he’s still in there.” His reply came out in a tired rush, and his voice was hushed as if he was trying to hide from someone. That someone probably being Hwitaek himself.

You caught onto what Wooseok was asking of you. This wasn’t the first time you had to drag him out of the studio. Being his best friend had many perks, way more perks that outweighed the few downsides that came along with it, and one of them was that you now carried the responsibility of kicking some sense into his overworking butt when he fell into this overloaded phase.

“I’ll be there in 20 minutes.” You answered without asking for any more details and bid your brief goodbyes before hanging up. Then, you got changed into some comfier clothes to match the chillier weather outside and grabbed your car keys.

It was late, and the only restaurant still open on your way to the studio was a small shop next to a karaoke bar, and you stopped by to pick up some fried rice. It wasn’t the most exciting meal out there, but for a 2am dinner run — or rather, breakfast-lunch-dinner run, if you were Hwitaek — it seemed pretty fitting.

When you arrived at the building and made your way to the studio floor, you saw the tall boy sitting on one of the benches in the hallways. He was hunched over, scrolling mindlessly on his phone and you could tell he was trying his hardest to stay awake for his leader’s sake.

You said a soft greeting as you approached him and he sent you a smile before letting a worried expression wash over him again. The door to the studio slightly ajar and Wooseok gestured for you to take a peek into the small gap, placing a warm hand on your back as he stood behind you.

“Just look at him.” He whispered, and you stared at your best friend working away on his computer, seemingly without any breaks to even think about what to do next. He simply clicked a few times, played something, shook his head, and then repeated the process all over again.

You turned back to Wooseok and began ushering him away from the door. “I’ll take care of this. I’m also guessing he hasn’t eaten much—” He nodded in agreement when you said that. “—so I brought some food with me. Go home and get some rest, I know you’re tired, just tell the others that I’ll bring him home... eventually.” You smiled reassuringly, but had to add in that “eventually” because deep down, you knew how just stubborn Hwitaek could be, and getting him out of the studio was a hefty task. Add in the upcoming planned promotions, then you get an even more stubborn version of him to work with — one that doesn’t understand the boundaries between work and self care.

Wooseok nodded slowly and your heart melted at the exhausted expression on his face. They’ve all been working so hard recently, heck, their packed schedules were a constant these days, and you could sense that it was taking a toll on them. Though no matter how tired they were, they always made sure to look out for each other, and you wanted to do your best to help ease at least some of the stress off the group. With a little more convincing, you finally got Wooseok to leave, giving him a hug before he did, and then you turned towards the task at hand. Even though the door was already opened, you knocked once to grab Hwitaek’s attention.

No answer.

You knocked again, this time calling out his name a couple times.

When he still didn’t answer, you gently opened the door all the way and let out a sigh when you fully took in his appearance.

“Hey, Hui.”

Still no answer.

You walked closer to him and leaned over to get a better look at his face. His eyes looked like they were seconds away from slumber, and his head rested on his hand like a makeshift pillow. “Hui? Hwitaek? Hui? Pentagon of Leader? Huiiiiiii?”

You placed the takeout gently next to his keyboard and then slowly nudged it so that it touched his arms resting on the table. When he didn’t respond to that either  — and opted to mess around with the dynamics of the percussion in his composition instead — you stood straight up and let out a huff.

“Lee Hwitaek!” You called boldly and for the first time that day, he took notice of your presence.

“Oh, hey y/n. Could you check if this sounds okay?” He greeted you nonchalantly as if you hadn’t travelled all this way in the middle of the night to see him, and proceeded to play an excerpt of what he had splayed out on the screen. You stood there speechless until the music finished blasting from the speakers and then just stared at his expectant face.

“Hui you need to snap out of it! I know this comeback means a lot to you and you want to get the work done but you can’t do it like this.” You told him exasperatedly.

“What do you mean I can’t do it like this? I’ve always been doing it like this, and it works every time.” He defended, and he replayed the section for you to hear, but you still refused to pay attention to it.

“You do this every time only to have one of us literally drag you out of the studio! And then you face the consequences days later ‘cause your body’s exhausted, your mind’s exhausted — don’t you think you’ll work better if you were refreshed?” You moved his hand away from the mouse when he tried to go back to work and ignore you.

“I just have a little bit left to do and I’ll finish up soon, I promise.” He muttered. It was almost as if he was entranced by the idea of never ending work hours, and Lee Hwitaek was being sucked into the void of his monitor right before your eyes.

“I’ll finish it up soon, my ass. We’ve been best friends for what? 12 years now? I know you’re lying when you say that, and I know that you’ll be sick by the time you ‘finish’ this and then you’ll regret it later. It’s the same cycle over and over again and you need to stop, please I’m begging you, we’ve been through this so many times already.” You tried to calm yourself down. Getting frustrated over his stubbornness wasn’t going to do any good, if anything, it’ll only make the problem worse. He finally gave you his full attention when he noticed that you took a deep breath to collect yourself. Taking a deep breath has always been a sign that you meant business.

And yet he still replied to you blatantly. “If I don’t finish it up all at once, I’m going to forget about it later.”

You rubbed your forehead, trying to get rid of the annoyance that was building up within you. “And then you’re going to finish that part, only to think of another idea to work on right after that. Like I said, it’s a cycle and you need to realize that. Please, I’ll give you 30 minutes to finish what you’re doing and write your notes down, and then we’re going to take a walk, no matter what you say.”

He nodded at your firm tone and quietly got back to work after muttering a small “okay”. You spent the next 20 or so minutes watching him work, occasionally feeding him spoonfuls of the rice you brought, until he finally shut everything down and turned to you to scarf down what was left in the foam container. 

“I didn’t realize how hungry I was.” He pointed out the obvious when there was no rice left, and he stretched before getting up from his seat. You giggled when you heard his joints crack at the sudden movement.

“Geez, you really are getting old, huh? And that’s what happens when you get stuck in sitting in this chair for more than 24 hours.” You lightly smacked his head to get some sense into him. “You don’t take care of yourself and don’t realize that your body needs food.”

He rolled his eyes, giving in to your light scolding. “Okay, okay, you’re right.” 

“Sir, I am always right.”

-----

Not too long later, you were both taking a walk outside the building, entering the quiet night life of the city.

The winter air had a chill to it and you shivered a little, taking Hwitaek’s free hand into yours. He responded by squeezing it gently. 

Small physical affirmations like these have always got you through your friendships. As people who both relied on them as a source of comfort, it’s what allowed you to be as close as you were now. Though there were times where you’d have your disagreements — take the little argument you had earlier — holding hands especially, has always been what you used to remind yourselves that in the end, you still loved each other. That you were still best friends.

“I’m so proud of you, you know that?” You told him quietly.

He laughed. “What? Am I getting a pep talk now?”

Your cheeks heated at his words and you stopped walking, pulling him into a stop as well. “I’m being serious here!”

He gave you a teasing look. “I know you are, and I appreciate you always coming to take care of me. Even though I’m not in your shoes, I do know how stubborn I can get and how frustrating it must be for you guys to watch me make the same mistakes over and over again.” He let out a sigh and scratched the back of his head. “But some habits are hard to break, yeah?”

You let out a small hum in agreement. It was true, everyone had their own habits — some good, some bad — and while Hwitaek had a fair share of endearing habits, between you and the rest of the boys, his were also the most concerning. You’d all rather have him stay healthy than have him work his soul away on some songs that can ultimately, only do the group so much. And getting him to realize that was a challenge, but it was a challenge you were all willing to take.

Your walk didn’t have a set destination, and you crossed streets and changed directions on a whim, adding more thrill to your little adventure. At one point, you even stopped at one of the convenience stores still open so that he could buy himself a drink. Which ended up simply being a carton of milk after you insisted that no, coffee at 3 am is not going to help him rest at all. You allowed him to at least get chocolate milk though. And you spent your time talking about anything unrelated to his work, sharing stories that you’ve missed during your time apart.

The two of you pretended like it wasn’t the middle of the night and that you weren’t freezing in the cold because neither of you were responsible enough to have prepared layers for the weather. Because so what if it was pitch dark and the only sign of life were the lonely taxis that drove by? If the only sound joining the chirps of the crickets were your laughter and you couldn’t feel the tips of your ears anymore? Your best friend finally had the chance to rest and be himself once again, and you’d be there for him no matter what time of day it was. As long as you got to see his shoulders relax a little and his smile genuinely reach his eyes again. As long as you knew that he’d listen to you, as his best friend, and that he’d let you take care of him when you needed to. It didn’t matter how often that had to happen.

When you turned the corner back to the entrance of the entertainment building, you looked at Hwitaek and nodded your head towards the floors upon floors towering above. “You wanna go back to the studio and work for a little while longer to let me hear what you’ve got so far?”

Getting him to take a break was already a miracle, and as much as you wished he would at least spend the night resting, you felt bad for dragging him out like this. You understood that he probably worked best if he was allowed to follow his train of thoughts without disruption, as bad as that habit was.

Thinking that he would agree to your offer, you were already making your way towards the entrance. But to your surprise, he grabbed your wrist to stop you and instead gave you a relaxed smile.

“Nah.” He pulled you closer to him and slung an arm around your shoulder, leaning into it a little bit. His body was pleasantly warm against yours.

“Let’s just go home, work can wait.”

[applsauss]

Frustration

Series: Blink: The All-American Hero

Description: Katsuki takes himself too seriously and you make a joke out of everything, including him.

Quirk: Blink. (Y/N) can instantaneously teleport short-distances. She does not have to see her destination, however the matter she teleports cannot replace that which already exists (meaning she can cut herself in half by teleporting halfway through a wall).

Fandom: 
My Hero Academia

Pairing: 
Bakugou Katsuki/Reader

Word Count: 
2.6k+

Warning(s): 
None

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-


Bakugou: I’m coming over. 

(Read 7:43pm) 

      You don’t bother responding. It wouldn’t change anything, especially when he’s already made up his mind - but that’s besides the point because you’re glad that he’s coming over anyways. You’d been unnecessarily bothered by his appearance all day and you’re more than eager to make-out with him the way you usually end up doing when he stomps up to your room at this time of night.

He knocks on the door, and you hop over the mess on your floor to answer it. “(Y/N), we need to-” he starts spilling a speech that sounds weirdly prepared as soon as you swing the door open, but he doesn’t get very far in before you’re fisting the collar of his shirt and dragging him down so your lips meet. You’re not in the mood to listen to him complain about Midoriya, and usually he just needs to blow off steam rather than stew in malcontent anyways.

He grunts into your mouth, but relents and lets you pull him in your room. He kicks the door shut behind him so it slams with a wall-shaking bang, and then you’re not pulling so much as he’s pushing you towards your bed, whatever he was going to say forgotten for the moment as he squeezes your hips.

Your heels hit the frame of the bed, and you momentarily lose balance. It’s enough to make you wobble, then forcefully part from Bakugou as you fall back into a sitting position. 

Bakugou’s chest is rising and falling, lips open and spit-slick as he breathes heavily. His eyes are unfocused until he meets your gaze, and then he closes his mouth, and swallows. “... Listen-” He starts again.

He looks unreasonably attractive like this, and you can see all of his bare neck and the underside of his jaw. You jump up to smooth your hands across his muscular shoulders and press a wet kiss to the bottom of his jaw, urging him to continue with a quiet hmm to indicate you’re paying attention. 

His words stall and his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. 

You continue to lay kisses across his smooth skin, and he rests his hands on your shoulders by the base of your neck, touch feathery and light, squeezing every once in a while, like he can’t decide whether he wants to keep you where you are or push you away. 

You introduce your teeth to the mix with a teasing scrape and he pushes you away lightly. “... (Y/N)...” 

“What is it, Katsuki?” You drag your hands down his front, fingers pressing into his shirt until you reach his waist and are able to poke your fingers under the hem, ignoring the denim of his jeans to seek out soft skin. 

“I’m trying to…” He snaps his mouth shut when you dip your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, which are peeking up over his low-slung jeans. In a fit, Bakugou pulls his phone out of his front pocket so he can bend his knees, then forcefully guides you away from him and onto the bed. You try and scoot up so your head’s by your pillows, but he clambers onto the bed after you and hooks his hands behind your knees and yanks you back down so your hips meet his, snug. 

You let out an airy breath at his manhandling, and press up to kiss him again. “I’m…” he keeps trying to talk, “trying to…” You start playing with the hem of his shirt again. “... You…” It’s hard to kiss someone who’s rambling. 

You think distantly that he tastes like soy sauce. He must have just come up from the kitchen. You use enough force to push him off you, then sling a leg over his hips, effectively straddling him. “Mmm, stop talking…” you mumble into the kiss, your tone teasing, and that seems to be as much as Bakugou can take. 

He grunts, then pushes you off him by the hips and stands. “I’m leaving,” he says, and then he does, leaving you to stare at the door, confused at the turn of events that have suddenly left you alone on your bed. 

Maybe he forgot he had to do something? You huff, then throw yourself back so you’re laying on your bed, staring at the ceiling. Your head flops to the side, and you notice he left his phone on your nightstand. It’s hard to ignore the feeling that you’ve done something wrong, so you restlessly stare at some homework until you decide that it’s late enough to excuse going to bed. 

***

      You don’t think too hard about last night, even after Bakugou never showed up for breakfast. After all, he’s Bakugou; He has moods, he goes through phases, and if he has something to say, he’ll say it.

When you skip into the classroom, Bakugou is already at his seat, scowling the same as he always is, only today he isn’t blaring music in his headphones as he waits for class to start. With his phone in hand, you skip over to his desk and take a seat on the one in front of it. 

You wave his phone in front of him, but when he goes to grab it, you yank it back and hold it up by your smiling face. He directs his glare from the desk to you, lips pursed and eyebrows all scrunched up under his bangs.

“Good morning, Bakugou,” you beam down at him. 

“Good morning,” he grunts, more to placate you than anything else. 

You hold his phone out for him to take, then yank it back again when he tries to take it. This time, he grunts and drops his hands to the table. “… (Y/N).” His voice is a low warning. 

The rest of the class ignoring you as all of this plays out, and you’re barely able to keep your laughter and smile under wraps. 

You repeat the interaction a third time and Bakugou slams his hands on the table and stands up to face you, causing you burst out laughing. He lunges for you, his desk screeching across the floor, and you toss his phone at his chest and warp just out of reach, crouched on top of another desk, ready to leap away if necessary. 

Bakugou lets out a puff of angry air through his nose, like a bull staring down a red cape, and sits back down. When he shoves his phone in his pocket, you swing your legs out from underneath you and blink back to the original desk in front of him. “Tough time waking up this morning without your alarm?” 

His fists clench on the desk. “You’re making me mad.” 

“Not my fault you forgot it in my room.” you say back, hoping he’ll get that you’re teasing him. You still remember the way he kicked himself out of your dorm all huffy and upset, and this is all you got to try figure out what he’s so twisted up about.

He just grunts in acknowledgement, then sets his head heavily on his hand to stare straight ahead towards the blackboard. 

You reach over to flick his ear and he swats at your hand before you can touch him. “Fuck off. You’re too happy in the morning.” 

“Whaaat?” You ask, moving to flick him again and he smacks your hand away, this time giving you a hard glare. 

“Seriously. Cut it out.” 

“Okay,” you feign retreat, and he sets his arm back down on the desk when you leap up to flick his ear. He shoves his open palm towards you, a little explosion lighting it up and you’re caught halfway through a laugh before you warp to the complete opposite side of the room, an explosion sizzling in the space you’d just been occupying. 

Half the class jumps, woken up by the sudden loud noise, and the other half idly watches, used to your antics, but always happy to watch Bakugou have a melt down. 

You’re waiting for a further overreaction, some more back and forth, when Bakugou just sits in his seat and stares forward towards the whiteboard without so much as insulting you. 

You’re confused, and when he continues to ignore your existence for the rest of class, you begin to worry even more. 

***

      “Is Bakugou… mad at you?” Mina whispers to you when Bakugou sits at the far end of the table instead of right next to you, like he usually does. 

Kirishima stares after his friend, then shoots you a confused look, but you can only shrug, just as in the dark as he is, and so he turns back to Kaminari. 

“I… Don’t know,” you mumble, pushing your fried rice around in your bowl, eyes trained on Bakugou, who instead of eating, just scowls at his tray like it said something he didn’t like.

You don’t know what’s eating him, but you’re going to get to the bottom of it. Afterall, that’s what being in a relationship with Bakugou is all about, right? Poking and prodding at his sour moods until he breaks and you catch a glimpse of the real him, insecurities and all?

***

      Bakugou dodges you for the rest of the day, until finally, you spy him from the kitchen as he slips into the boys shower room. Naturally, you follow, intent on cornering him and twisting his arm until spills the beans and lets you pamper him until he feels better. 

You blink into the bathrooms behind him, just in front of the entrance. He doesn’t show any signs of hearing you enter, and is instead still stalking towards the showers in the back. 

“Bakugou…” you call out to get his attention, and he immediately stops, shoulders going tense and rising next to his ears, his shower bag clenched in a white-knuckled grip. You grow insecure, and lean back against the door. Maybe he really is sincere this time when he tells you to fuck off, but he can’t just avoid you. He’s obviously upset about something, and you’re going to help.

“This is the boys shower room.” he grunts in the same dismissive voice he’s been using with you all day.

“I know.”

“Then leave.” 

“Bakugou,” 

“Fuck off.” 

“No! I just want to know why you’re mad at me!” You say the words before you can think them through, and you cringe at how selfish it sounds. ‘I just want to know why you’re mad at me!’ not, ‘I want to know what’s got you so bent out of shape!’, not, ‘I want to know how I can help!”

He’s quiet and tense and you hear the familiar crackle of explosions nestled in the palm of his empty hand before he clenches his fists and the sparks go out. You catch a whiff of caramel. 

“Bakugou,”

“Fuck off.”

“Bakugou!”

“You know what? Fine!” Bakugou shouts as he wildly whips around to face you. “It’s because you were making me mad at you on purpose!” He’s shaking with barely concealed rage and glaring right at you as he continues. “I know I yell a lot at everyone, and I don’t give a shit about those extras, but I don’t want to actually be mad at you!”

“Oh..” You didn’t think… You never thought...

“OH? That’s all you have to say? Of course that’s all you have to say, you’re a fucking moron with the emotional intelligence of a fish.” 

You stare, stunned, at him. 

“I tried to have a real conversation with you last night and you wouldn’t even give me enough space to say what I wanted to say! I want to know where we stand after your stupid exchange ends. Graduation is only a semester away! Do you have plans? Are you staying in Japan? Are you leaving? If you’re leaving, are you ever coming back?”

You can’t say anything.

“You’re so fucking stupid, sometimes, YN!” he continues, “I love you! I want us to have a future!” 

“I didn’t…” 

“You didn’t what? Think I cared?” 

“Bakugou… You know that’s not”...

“No! That’s exactly what you think, isn’t it.” 

“Bakugou!” 

“Stop saying my name over and over and just answer me, god damn it!” 

“I... “ you gulp, “I wanna stay!” 

“Good!” He shouts, and then you’re both left in the deafening silence. He’s panting, seething, and you feel like you want to melt into the door behind you. 

“I want to stay, Bakugou,” you repeat, quieter, and suddenly you feel like you’re going to cry, the admission making you feel so brittle, and all you want is for him to hug you but he doesn’t want to hug you and it’s all your fault - because you couldn’t see that he was hurting, because you kept trying to fix things by being funny. 

He doesn’t say anything, and you both stand in the wet smelling bathroom, staring at each other’s feet until Bakugou lets out a short, hurt “Fuck!” He drops his shower supplies and takes a seat on the floor, back against the wall next to the sink. 

He bows over, cradling his head and you don’t know what to do, don’t know why your heart is pounding so hard. He forces his hands into his hair and pulls hard, then lets his arms drop loose over his knees. He turns his head sideways to peek at you, and for a brief flash, you catch the ashamed expression on his face before he turns away to look at the tile again. 

“Come here,” he demands without moving an inch, still staring down at his feet. 

You jump, but don’t move any closer. Mouth dry. 

He drags his forearm across his face, sniffs, then glares at the wall in front of him, not looking at you, but not hiding either. His eyes are red and his face is wet. He reaches his arm out towards you, and then you find yourself moving closer before you made the choice to.

You swiftly make your way farther into the bathroom, then drop into a sitting position next to Katsuki and shuffle yourself so his outstretched arm is over your shoulder and you’re turning your head to press the side of your face to his chest. 

Immediately, he wraps both arms around you and presses his nose to the top of your head. At first, you’re stiff and hurt, and then he sighs, body sagging, and you feel yourself relaxing into the overbearing heat and tight hold Katsuki has you caught in, like he’s desperate to keep you at his side, like he’d never let anything happen to you. His hands are burning hot.

The thought is nice. 

He’s sniffing, quietly quivering every once in a while, and you can feel the moment the stress from the situation undoes you. You swing your arm around to grip at his T-shirt as you start to cry earnestly. 

You didn’t realize you’d be this bothered by Katsuki ignoring you, being upset with you. It’s dumb to get so wrapped up in relationship squabbles, but it’s something that can’t be avoided, not when you care about the relationship as much as you do. 

“I’m sorry for shouting,” Katsuki mumbles into your hair, “and for getting mad-” his voice cracks and you hug him tighter to you, so your glasses are pressing painfully into the bridge of your nose. 

You remove a hand quickly to pull your glasses off and wipe some of your own tears away. “I know. This is dumb. I’m sorry, too.” 

He lets out a hot, pent-up breath and you return your hand to it’s place on his chest, over his heart and lose yourself to the rolling silence that settles in the wake of a fight.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-


Masterlist in desc.

[m0onbean]

No More Kisses

category: floOoOoOf

pairing: moonbin X reader

note: sorry for this delayed post! here ya go!

"Can we just stay home today?" Moonbin pleaded while hugging you from behind.

You were scrubbing the dishes in the sink and rinsing it off diligently. "Anything for you," you sarcastically said while finishing the last plate.

He kissed your neck and started to walk to the living room. "What should we do?"

"Sleep?" You suggested while following him to the couch. He scoffed and widened his arms for you. You went into his arms as he wrapped them around your body. The both of you snuggled for a bit.

"No, sleep is no fun." he pouted. It was your turn to scoff, "Well, what do you want to do? Play board games?"

"Ooo, not a bad idea!" Moonbin exclaimed while stretching his neck out to give you a "good idea!" stare.

"I was kidding," you groaned and nuzzled your face further in his chest.

Before you knew it, Moonbin had laid out Candyland on the rug and was already picking his character pawn. Without anything else to do, you sat in front of him and chose the blue gingerbread man. He furrowed his eyebrows and placed his fist to his chin, pondering deeply. You could tell that he was thinking carefully about which color to choose.

"It's just a character," you teased and handed him the red one.

"Hey! I was thinking!" he whined, but he didn't refuse your choice. After setting your pawns down on the first square, you started to shuffle the cards.

"How do we play again?" he shamefully asked, as if it was a sin not knowing how to play Candyland.

"The objective is to get to the end of the map. We take turns and pick up a card that'll either have one colored square or two colored squares on it. When we receive it, we are supposed to move our pawn to the nearest color they give us. Even if your nearest color is behind you, you still have to go back which is a disadvantage. You lose a turn if you land on those licorices and it's better to take shortcuts. It's a children's game, so it's very simple." you explained while placing the fresh new stack of cards next to the board.

"Wow, my girlfriend is so smart!" he praised while squeezing your cheeks and laughing at your stinkeye.

"Ladies first!" you called out. "So, you go!"

Moonbin playfully scowled at your joke but picked a card up anyways. There was one red square on it. He placed it to the nearest red which was only one block away.

After taking turns and hiking through the horrendous amounts of licorice squares and inconvenient colored squares, the two of you were in neck-on-neck competition. It all came up to when you had your pawn placed on the second to last square. Moonbin was right behind your square.

The last square was colored purple. It was your turn, and you NEEDED to get a purple square or else you would go backwards, giving Moonbin the lead.

Beads of sweat rolled down your forehead as you hesitantly reached for another card. You saw Moonbin in the corner of your eye, watching you intently, whispering some prayers to god. Your fingertips grasped on the edges of the delicate plastic card as you shut your eyes closed.

When you turned it around to look at it, you saw it. A huge, purple, square.

You shrieked out of victory and slammed the card down on the floor. Moonbin's eyes widened in disbelief and scrambled for your card to confirm it. When he saw the huge block of purple, he cussed freely and ruffled his hair out of exasperation. You cackled at him and slumped on the couch, inflated with joy.

Moonbin grabbed another card from the top of the deck and groaned loudly when he saw what was on it.

"Had I not lost a turn earlier, I would've won!" He faced the card to you and you saw that the next card was ALSO a purple square too.

"You earn a punishment!" you sang while skipping around the room.

Moonbin had an apron tied around his waist tightly with his sleeves pulled up. He dumped some rice onto the pan which made a sizzling sound. After mixing it around, he started adding the rest of his ingredients.

You watched him cook ardently, admiring how attractive he looked while focusing.

"Why is my boyfriend so handsome?" you adored with your face resting in your hands.

He chuckled at your comment while stirring the rice around. Upon winning Candyland, you ordered him to make you dinner. Although he was nervous about it at first since he didn't have much experience, you saw that he was actually skillful at it. It made your heart melt watching him work hard.

"Fried rice is almost done!" he announced while turning the stove down. When he looked up to catch you staring at him, he just smirked and waved his hand in front of your face.

"M'am, excuse me?"

"Huh?" you asked without budging.

"Would you like to try my fried rice?"

"Yes sir!"

Moonbin smiled and took a spoon of rice and fed it to you. You were surprised to find that it tasted a lot better than you had expected, and you had high expectations too. You raised a thumbs up at him.

"How does it taste?" He asked anxiously.

"Let me show you," you confidently said and leaned forward to peck him on the lips. When you pulled back, you had a sly smirk on your face. Moonbin looked at you and playfully gagged. You scowled at him and smacked his chest multiple times, "If you're going to be like that then no more kisses."

“No please (Y/N), I love your kisses I’m kidding!” he whined sadly.

“Then make me dessert, and I’ll take my rule back.”

“Ok!” he looked at you with determined eyes and saluted you. And just like that, he was off making another dish just for you.

[baby-you-are-just-write]

Love Written In Ink

Love Written In Ink: Regretting the Past (Chapter 7)

Link to Series

Summary: After breaking up with your boyfriend, you find yourself struggling to move on. But how can you, when both your lives are so intertwined? When a new captivating man enters your life, are the changes ahead for the better or worse?

Word Count: 5K

Rating: M (Smut)

(A few years ago)

Yongguk swung his head back, eyes closed, relishing the feeling of how the the cold amber liquid burned his throat as he swallowed. Before he even settled the glass back down on to the counter, Yongguk had signaled to the bartender for another round.

The bartender looked towards Yongguk with apprehension, but nevertheless fulfilled the order after they were done tending to the other patrons of the bar. What Yongguk didn’t notice though, too preoccupied with keeping himself steady on the bar stool as he swayed precariously back and forth with his new drink, the bartender had suspiciously turned their back to him and fished out their phone.

Almost half an hour had passed before you finally bursted through the door. You were panting, having to run the last leg of the way from Namdaemun to Hongdae when your taxi had hit a severe traffic jam. Your normally clean kept hairbun was in disarray and falling apart at your shoulders. You shuffled tiredly into the bar, not minding the eyes that followed you or the pleading security guard that was trying to no avail to drag you out of the establishment. You locked eyes with the bartender who shot you a business friendly smile as they waved off the the security guard.

“Sorry about that, he’s new.”  they apologized, gesturing to the sunken retreating form of the security guard as he trudged back to his post.  But you paid it no attention, your eyes were too busy scanning the bar, looking for him.

“Where’s-”

“Outback, throwing up.” The bartender interrupted you, sighing. They rubbed their temples with one hand while the other hand gestured with a thumb towards the door behind them.

You bowed your head to both thank them and to apologize on behalf of Yongguk. You made your way through the door behind the bar, the path down the hallway to the back door being unfortunately all too familiar.

The taste of acid filled Yongguk’s mouth as vomit spewed out hitting the wall of the other building in the dark and empty alleyway. He was only mildly aware when he felt the door to the bar behind him quietly open.  It was only when he suddenly felt warm hands rubbing small comforting circles on his back did he jump.

His body tensed but soon relaxed when his blurred vision was finally able to focus and see that it was just you.

“Let’s go home,” you told him. Your hands briefly leaving his back to fish out a water bottle from your backpack before handing it to him.

The way back was fortunately peaceful. Yongguk had passed out for most of the taxi ride back to his apartment. You found your hands curling around his larger one for most of the ride.

You were suddenly jostled awake, a high pitch squeak escaped your mouth as you tumbled face first on to the floor. You bolted up just as quickly, looking around your surroundings in confusion until your mind had fully woken up and registered the room. A large yawn erupted from your mouth as you tried to untangle yourself from the blanket. You cringed when you knees and back cracked loudly. The lumpy couch wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep in last night. You groaned, placing your hands on your lower back as you attempted to stretch out your tired and cramped muscles before walking over to Yongguk’s room to check on him.

You didn’t bother knocking and made your way inside. Yongguk laid curled in bed motionless, you weren’t sure how, but you knew he was already awake. You made your way over to him and slowly peeled the covers from his face. You were met with his tired bloodshot eyes and a groaned before he yanked the comforter back over his head.

“I feel like death…turn off the lights…why are they on…?” Yongguk’s dry, raspy voice croaked.

“That’s the sun.” You glanced over at his bedside alarm clock as you tugged against him for the blanket. “Yongguk, it’s almost noon.”

“Then tell the sun to shut up.” His voice cracked as he muttered pitifully. You sighed, giving up.

“I’ll be right back, I’m going to get you some water and an aspirin, ok? Don’t die before I come back,” You joked half halfheartedly. Yongguk peeked at you from under the covers, watching as you disappeared through his door and walked towards his kitchen.

Yongguk rubbed his eyes and wiped at his face as the steamy hot water pelted him with great force from above. He had been standing in the shower for what felt like a very long time, just letting the heat melt away his aching muscles.

When he finally stepped out from the bathroom, he was still attempting to dry his hair with the towel draped across his shoulders. Aside from that, he was only clad in his dark sweat pants.

You noticed him enter the kitchen as soon as you were done emptying the contents of the take out bag. “You feeling better? I got us some hangover soup,” you told him, trying not to stare too long at his body, as you peeled off the lids of the containers. A little bit of the hot stew had splashed on your hand, burning you. You yelped in pain, nursing your hand to your chest, when you suddenly felt a presence slightly pressed against your back. Heat began pooling around your face.

“Aish…what are you doing?” Yongguk spoke disapprovingly as he brought your hand to the sink, running cool water over the reddening skin. He lightly rubbed small comforting circles into your palm as he continued to hold it under the stream. You could feel your face getting warmer than before from his touch, but you tried to push your feelings to the side.

After a minute or two, Yongguk turned off the water, “I got this. You go sit and relax.” Yongguk gestured to you and to the food. It wasn’t long before the two of you happily and hungrily devoured the hearty and meaty stew with rice.

After the two of you were done eating, Yongguk began cleaning up while you were preparing to leave. Normally you’d offer to help, but you were already late to your job. As you finished lacing up your shoes, you yelled out a small, “see you later,” before swinging open the front door.

You walked smack dab into a large chest, the collision causing you to take a few steps back as you rubbed your nose.

You heard someone yell out your name before catching you in a tight bear hug that almost toppled you over. Yongnam smiled widely as he watched you flail and try to fight your way out of his grasp.

“You’re already leaving? But I just got here!” Yongnam whined as he kicked off his shoes before entering the apartment.

“I have work.” You stated matter-of-factly. You huffed as you tried to fix your hair and smooth down your clothes. You watched from the corner of your eyes as Yongnam studied you, fingers rubbing his chin, as you fussed with your appearance.

“What,” you asked belligerently.

“Hmmm…isn’t that the same outfit you wore yesterday?” Yongnam looked towards you and then shifted his focus on to Yongguk who was still in the kitchen, still half naked. A sleazy Cheshire-like grin spread its way across his face. Faster than you can blink, Yongnam dove for Yongguk, suddenly having his younger brother in a tight headlock.

“Ho ho ho…looks like the two of you were pretty busy last night? Eh?” Yongnam winked in your direction as you sputtered like a carp out of water. “S’bout time. Was wondering when the two of you would hook up!” He laughed as he messed with his younger brother’s hair. Yongguk, who was still a little hungover, was too weak to fight back.

“It’s NOT like that!” You exclaimed, a little too loudly, red faced. “I…Yongguk-oppa was just drunk again and I brought him home…and it was late so….I slept on the couch- stop giving me that look, Yongnam!” You screamed in embarrassment. “I gotta go, bye!” You huffed, practically running out the door. You were little less than half way down the hall before you heard a muffled voice yell out, “say hi to Ahjumma and Ahjussi for me!”

You sighed as you made your way through the large ancient pagoda-style gate that opened to Namdaemun Market. For tourists, the site was something to behold, Namdaemun was home to the oldest and largest open market in all of South Korea. It had existed for hundreds of years and still remained a bustling attraction for both locals and foreigners alike. But for you, this place was almost a tired sight. You literally grew up walking these streets, the appeal and charm of it all having faded by your early teenage years.

You groaned as you maneuvered your way through the throngs of people that lined the market place. Occasionally, you’d greet and quickly bow to some of the shop owners who cheerfully called you out by name.

Your shoulders slumped as you stood in front of your family’s shop. You honestly hated working here, but you didn’t have much choice. The flower shop had been in your family for generations, since the end of the Joseon Dynasty founded by your great great Grandfather. It also didn’t help that you were an only child, which means that you were the only one who stood to inherit the shop. You despised how your path had been set in stone without any of your say in the matter.

You smacked your cheeks with both palms as you braced yourself for the scolding you knew you were going to receive from your parents about being late.

The sun had just set when Charu had made his way through the shop lined streets. The market is just as busy and crowded at night as it is during the day, because just like the rest of Seoul, Namdaemun Market also doesn’t sleep. Charu rounded a corner, passing by a food cart selling fried mandu, the enticing smell causing his stomach to growl in hunger. He’d have to make a mental note to stop by after his errand.

An exhausted grunt left your mouth as you finished heaving the last of the large outdoor flower displays inside. You gingerly cradled your lower back as you silently cursed your parents for making you close up shop by yourself as punishment. As if practically getting your ass beat by both of them in front of all the regulars wasn’t enough. You suddenly cringed when you heard the dreaded bell chime of someone swinging open the shop’s front entrance.

“…the fuck,” you cursed under your breath. You mustered every strength left in you to not blow at whoever it was that was dumb enough to come in despite the “Sorry, We’re Closed,” sign plastered on the door.

“I am deeply sorry for the inconvenience, but our shop has closed now.,” You slipped into your customer service voice before you even saw the person through all the flower displays that your dad literally crammed into any available space; you were already dead inside. “If you’d like to come by tomorrow we’ll be open from- Charu-oppa!” Your character instantly broke as soon as you spotted the familiar face.

Charu laughed seeing you break out into a smile, “What the hell was that? You sounded like an automatic message,” he chuckled as he patted your head.

“What brings you here?” You asked as you struggled with untying your apron.

“I know you’re probably dead tired but I was wondering if I could get something for Natasha,” Charu began explaining, causing you to “awww.”

“Nope, don’t worry about it! I got you guys,” you assured him as Charu began sifting through some of the pre-made bouquets, not wanting to trouble you with making a custom one.

As Charu examined the flowers with his back towards you, he opened up again. “There’s also another reason why I’m here. I wanted to know if you had given it any more thought about what we talked about last time.”

Your shoulders slumped and your eyes fell to the floor. “My parents absolutely disagreed with the idea. They wouldn’t listen to me at all. My mom even started crying.” You explained, fidgeting with the apron as memories of last week’s fight began flooding into your head. “They said…they said that if I wanted to become a tattoo artist so badly, if I wanted to abandon the shop so much…that…I should leave home,” your voice grew weaker with each word.

“Shit, that’s rough.” Charu scratched at his nape, his other hand holding a colorful bouquet.

“It’s expected! My parents are pretty traditional after all,” you tried to brush it off with a laugh but it came out hallow. “But thank you for the opportunity.” You smiled at Charu sadly as you rung up the bouquet.

“But if you’re really serious about it, I think you should do it.” Charu spoke, furrowing his brows as he handed you the money.

“But my parents…”

“It’s not about them, it’s about you. It’s your life. If you’re worried about where to stay, I’m sure we can work something out together. Pretty sure Yongnam can use a roommate if you don’t mind the slob.” Charu suggested as you walked him out of the shop. “Anyways, the offer still stands. It’s up to you whether to do it or not but don’t let your parents be a reason not to take it!”

You watched as Charu left, his large figure getting smaller and smaller until he disappeared around a corner. His voice still ringing in your ears.

It was a few hours past midnight when you had gotten the text message. You groggily woke up, having just fallen asleep not too long ago after wracking your brain with what Charu had told you.

Your eyes quickly scanned the short message, you let out a muffled groan as you pressed your face into your pillow before rolling out of bed.

It was the same routine again and again. But tonight, it felt a bit different. When you picked Yongguk up from the bar and paid his tab, you noticed the total wasn’t as high as usual. The bartender even confirmed your suspicions. He still drank a lot for any given person, but it wasn’t his usual amount. It was strange. It wasn’t that you were unhappy that he was cutting back on his drinking, but something about him felt off. He was darker. He didn’t say a word to you when you arrived at the bar, barely even acknowledge your existence or anyone for that matter. You had caught a small glimpse of his eyes when you were walking him to the taxi and they looked empty which frightened you but you tried not to dwell on it.

The way up to his apartment was eerily quiet. You kept on glancing over at Yongguk wondering what had happened since you saw him this morning. The two of you made your way to his door. You began entering his key code when Yongguk finally spoke up for the first time all night.

“We…spoke with the lawyers,” He began, his words slow and careful. “they think…we’re going to lose the case.”

Click!

The door to his apartment unlocked, but the both of you stood frozen in place. Your eyes grew wide in horror. You didn’t know what to say, what could you say? Your heart sank, you were holding the door knob so tightly, your knuckles were turning white. You couldn’t help the flood of crippling guilt that washed over you. You had urged Yongguk to sign with TS Entertainment, you were their rooting for him, cheering for him, convincing him that it was an amazing opportunity, that he should go for it. That he should follow his dreams because you couldn’t follow yours.

It was all your fault.

The two of you stood there in silence for what felt like eons. Until finally, you mustered the strength to speak up, “Yongguk, I-”

You were cut off when Yongguk suddenly rushed towards you, his body smashing into yours. The force was so strong you almost toppled against his weight as the two of you crashed into his apartment. Yongguk wailed in your arms, gripping at your shirt so roughly, it could tear. Your body shook trying to hold him as tightly against you as you could. In all the years you’ve known him, you never saw him cry. Not even when he was injured or heartbroken. He always tried to remain calm and strong in front of others.

Oh god, how long has he been holding it all in, you thought to yourself.

“I’m here, I’m here,” the words began spilling from your mouth. “You’re not alone, I’m not gonna leave you.” You weren’t sure what to do or what to say, your mind just spewing any comforting words it could think.

Yongguk began choking on his own sobs, his words muffled between his own cries and your shirt. You slowly tried to pry face from your now dampen shirt. Your heart broke as you held his face between your fingers, his eyes were bloodshot and held so much pain.

“The other guys,” his voice was dry and raspy, “they don’t deserve this. I can’t protect them.” Yongguk began breaking down even more with each word that left his lips.

“I can’t protect anyone! Fuck, why am I like this!” He screamed, pulling at his hair. You held his wrist trying to get him to stop but you couldn’t make him let go, your own tears threatening to spill.

“They’re better off without me…” He began muttering. You violently shook his shoulders trying to get him snap out of it.

“Yongguk!” You screamed his name but it was like your words never reached him despite how close your bodies were. You used all your strength to pull him up, dragging him to his bedroom. You weren’t sure what to do but you somehow figured he might be able to calm down in his own room. You were desperate for anything.

You shut the door behind you as Yongguk sat up at the edge of his bed. His breathing was a wreck, but he stopped pulling at his hair. It was almost disturbing how quiet he’s being compared to just a few moments ago. You made your way over to him, sitting on the floor just in front of him. His eyes were still lost. You wordless gripped his larger hands in yours.

“Yongguk,” your voice was pleading as you looked down.

“D-don’t leave,” he stuttered. He flipped your hands, holding yours in his now. “I need you.”

You turned your head up to look at him. Before you knew it, you had suddenly felt his lips firmly press themselves against yours. Your head jerked back in surprise, breaking the kiss. But Yongguk chased after your lips, tumbling on top of you until he had you pinned underneath him.

“Yongguk, you’re drunk! Do you know what you’re doing?” You gasped, face flushed as your heart pounded in your chest.

“I’m not that drunk. And I know,” He said leaning his forehead against yours. You didn’t fully believe him. There was no way this was really happening. You were getting whiplash.

Yongguk was still eying your lips, when you asked him, “Then…do you know what doing this means?”

“Yeah.”

“For us?”

Your eyes instinctively shut as Yongguk closed the distance between the two of you again. He whispered your name against your own lips, ”I need you.”

Your mouth moved gently against his before becoming hungrier as the seconds ticked by. You squirmed as Yongguk’s hand found their way under your shirt. You loved Yongguk, you loved him for a very long time. There wasn’t an exact in moment in time you could pinpoint when it all started. One day or maybe it was gradually over time, you fell in love with his voice. That deep tone that spoke of passion and greater things in this world. His ambition for music and how far he’d go and how hard he’d work to achieve his dreams. You loved every bit of it, you loved every bit of him.

You moaned as Yongguk attacked your neck. You pushed him away briefly to remove your shirt, Yongguk followed suit. The two of you were moving incredibly fast, but you rationalised it having waited years for this moment while for Yongguk, he left his inhibition and all reasoning back at the bar.

You withered as he grabbed both your breast, squeezing and kneading them in his hands as he kissed the valley in between them. Calling out his name, you grabbed his face for another deep kiss. Shamelessly rutting yourself against his thigh as it brushed up against you. You felt one of his hands travel from your breast and slip into your pants. You gasped, breaking the sloppy kiss as his index finger rubbed at your clit through your panties. You cursed gripping his shoulders as the new sensation washed over your body. Yongguk whispered lowly in your ear, asking if you were ok. You nodded you head meekly. Yongguk continued his ministrations, kissing your lips as he did so, carefully watching your expressions. He slipped one finger in, you yelped, clenching instinctively at the unfamiliar intrusion. Yongguk didn’t move his finger, kissing your face until you got used to the feeling. When he saw you relax a bit more, he began pumping his finger in and out. You moaned in pleasure, calling out his name. He slipped in a second finger and groaned feeling you tighten yourself around him again, imagining how it’d truly feel to be inside of you. He bent down, pulling your pants and underwear off along the way,  until his face was hovering over your core, watching as you clawed at his rug in ecstasy. He curved his fingers, making them rub against your wet walls as he started licking and sucking on your clit. You screamed his name, your hands found themselves latching onto his scalp. You weren’t pulling his hair but gripping it tightly as he pleasured you.

Yongguk’s other hand was palming at his growing bulge, trying to ease himself a bit. Quickly, he was able to slip it out without any interruptions. He started pumped his length, getting off on seeing you squirm from his touch.

“You’re beautiful,” his eyes bulged when he realised he had said that out loud.

“Wha-what?” You looked down at him through cloudy, teary hooded eyes.

Yongguk shook his head as he sat up, “nevermind. Come here.” He grabbed your hand helping you up on his lap. He position his cock at your entrance, before he slowly had you sit down. You squeezed your eye shut, biting your lip and squeezing Yongguk’s shoulder in a death grip as he filled you up to the brim. Yongguk rubbed small soothing circles on your hips as he kissed you, waiting for you to take the lead. After a brief moment, you slowly began rocking yourself against him, pleasure shooting up your spine the faster you went.

“Shit, you’re so tight.” Yongguk cursed as he tried to gently match your rocking with his thrusting, not wanting to over do it too quickly for your first time. It was painfully too slow for him, but he didn’t want to hurt you.

Yongguk whipped his head back, bumping his head into his mattress as you started squeezing him. He let out a low guttural moan.

“Yongguk…can we…go r-rougher?” You asked though your heavy breathing.

Yongguk’s eyes shot open, his grip on your hips tightening almost painfully as he suddenly thrusted deeply into you with enough force it caused your breast to bounce. You gasped, electricity running through your veins as he pumped his throbbing member into your hole. Yongguk buried his face into the crook of your neck as his release was building in the pit of his stomach. You were coming undone at the seams, head thrown back as you screamed and cursed in pleasure. A few moments later and you came, eyes squeezed shut as the sensation flooded your senses causing you to shudder and moan in bliss. You heard Yongguk grunt a he released inside of you, feeling his goosebumps prickling your skin as he cummed. You hadn’t realised just how hard you were squeezing him when you climaxed.

The two of you collapsed beside his bed, too weak to move. Yongguk made the small motion of dragging the blanket on the bed down to cover the both of you. Yongguk watched as you passed out asleep right in front of him, he felt like he wasn’t too far behind. His hands formed a tight almost painful fist; regret was already seeping into his skin. He was finally coming back to his senses after the high began wearing off. He fucked up again. He knew he had to take full responsibility for all this once they both woke up in the morning. Even though he knew deep down, you deserved so much more than what he could ever offer you…

But that was all in the past now.

Yongguk sighed, placing the empty glass back on the counter. His fingers pinched and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he tried in vain to clear his head.

“Thanks.” Yongguk spoke after a long pause.

The bartender only hummed as they collected the glass for cleaning.

“You know…as much as we appreciate your business, you do know we don’t open for another half an hour?” The bartender remarked while still preparing their station.

“Yeah…” Yongguk smiled sheepishly, “sorry about that.”

“I don’t mind too much, you’re actually one of our better regulars who come through here after all…” The bartender admitted as they finished chopping up the lemons and putting them in the glass container behind the bar counter.  They dusted themselves off as they turned back to face the idol.

“So…I know it’s not my place to ask but did something happen recently?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Yongguk muttered, lying his head down on the cool polished wood surface. The bartender hummed, taking out a clean rag to wipe around the still pristine countertop again, hoping that by keeping busy, they could fight off the awkward atmosphere. The bartender knew not to pry too much into their guest’s lives, but Yongguk felt like a special case. They weren’t real friends by any means, however Yongguk has been a regular at this bar for years, even longer than she been working here. She met his old brother and ex on more than one occasion. The latter of the two, especially. You would come by so often when Yongguk spiraled down and drank himself senseless. It was almost like a twisted routine for all three of you.

Then the lawsuit happened.

And Yongguk spiralled even further down.

That lawsuit changed everything. Something had happened between Yongguk and you, she could tell. You both became a bit emptier on the inside each time she saw either of you. Then one day suddenly, you no longer came by no matter how many messages she sent you. It was so strange, but she didn’t dare to pry Yongguk about it even if it bothered her to no end. So she eventually gave up trying contact you all together.

Ever since you stopped coming, Yongguk began practically living at the bar. Only leaving when he got dragged out. Yongguk, even when drunk was never rowdy. And the two often spoke during his frequent visits. Nothing deeply personal but just amicable banter, a surface level friendship. But that didn’t mean she didn’t care completely about his well being.

Yongguk ended up leaving the bar earlier than he intended. Once it officially opened for the night and other patrons began filing in, he took off. They never bothered him before, but he was yearning for some seclusion.

He moved through the busy bustling streets of Hongdae’s nightlife, walking aimlessly through the small crowds until the people around him slowly began to dwindle to nothing and his surroundings melted into a small, quiet, dimly lit park. He silently moved to sit on one of the benches along the walkway. Yongguk slumped in his seat, taking in the cool night air as his head hung off the back of the bench, his arms stretching comfortably along the length.

He stayed there in silence for god knows how long. His only company was the loud buzzing of the the cicadas singing in the background. But despite all the deafening noise they were all making, it still wasn’t enough to block out the millions of thoughts that races through his mind. He had so much to make up for.

—

And done. Words can’t describe how great it feels to not only finish this chapter after months, but to just be able to update at all. Again, I’m so sorry for the long wait but better late than never as they say! This chapter is literally 2x as long as the last and I spent so much time researching things to build a better, more realistic and grounded story-verse in this chapter so I could give just a little bit more backstory and color and I could not be happier. I’m really proud with how this came out and I hope you guys enjoyed it just as much. lol It was definitely a labor of love.