#he stick and poked his god's name on himself but his handwriting is so bad it's unrecognizable and the signs he puts up have evil auras

[lazycranberrydoodles]

COME ON GUYS DON'T LET DIANXIA DOWN

[moldisgoodforyou]

no tattoos

wordcount: 1.7k

warnings: drunk sophie, hints of nsfw talk, etc

______

Rafe picked up Sophie’s facetime call to be greeted by his excited girlfriend and her talking conversationally in Spanish, albeit a little stilted as her drunk brain tried translating back and forth.

“Sophie -”

“Estoy bebiendo, hemos encontrado este vino por la sangria -” 

He laughed, shaking his head. “English, baby, please. Por favor.” 

“Oh! Fuck, sorry. I’m not sober.” She immediately switched back, bringing a nearly empty cup to her lips as she took him back into her room to momentarily escape the loud party. 

“I can tell. What’s up, just saying hi?” 

“Yeah!” She shut the door behind her and lifted up her shirt a little. ”Baby! Baby, look.” She angled the camera toward her leg, keeping it on selfie mode and hopped on one foot trying to show it correctly.

Rafe held back a smile. “Flip the camera, Soph.”

“No, no, I got it, look.” The camera finally focused in on the purple pen outlining the eventual tattoo, the initials R.C. done in her terrible drunken scrawl. (Her handwriting was pretty poor normally, but her drunk handwriting was much worse.) It was right above her hipbone and at least five inches tall, not at all what she would typically go for with a first tattoo.

He choked back a laugh, eyes wide in disbelief. “Oh my fucking god.”

She grinned and turned the camera back to her face. “What do you think?”

“That’s not - Sophie, you didn’t -” he fumbled with his words, feeling a weird mix of horror and also being turned on that she’d even consider tattooing his initials onto her forever, even if she was drunk.

“No, no, I’m next.” She nearly tripped as she walked back into the kitchen, showing a group of her friends crowded around a table, one of them giving stick and poke tattoos with a practiced ease. The phone was set down and abandoned for a few minutes, but he could hear Sophie accepting another shot with a giggle, her words taking on a pronounced slur.

Rafe waited patiently, straining a little to listen to the conversation.

“Were you talking to your boyfriend?”

“Wait, the one that gave you the ring?”

Sophie laughed and he could picture her grin. “Yeah, I was talking to Rafe. I’m gonna get his initials.” She pulled up her shirt a little to show off the sloppy outline and the girls squealed, both equally as drunk as her. “Oh my god, you can’t.”

“Why not!” Sophie exclaimed.

“What if you break up?”

“Oh, we won’t.” She replied, self-assured. He grinned at that.

“So do you think you’ll marry him?”

There was a brief silence and more giggles and Rafe desperately wished he could see her face. Unbeknownst to him, she nodded with a grin then picked the phone back up, her face tinged pink. 

“Hi! I forgot we were talking!” She took the phone back to her room to talk to him again. Sophie had a tendency of being spacey when she was drunk, often wandering off or just ending a conversation mid-sentence when she couldn’t remember the rest.

Rafe shook his head, trying his best not to laugh. “Sophie. Angel. Listen to me, very carefully, okay?”

She furrowed her brow. “Yes?”

“You cannot get that tattoo.”

She pouted, running her thumb over the ink and smearing it a little. “Why not?”

“Because, Soph. You’re hammered -”

“Am not! I can do a handstand, look, watch -”

“No no no, Soph, just listen to me, please -” he laughed, snapping to try and get her focus as she went to set the phone down and show off (he was a little concerned, especially because he wasn’t sure she could do a handstand sober). “Sophie Flint! Hey. Hey. Pay attention and listen. No tattoos.”

“You don’t like it.” She frowned, lip wobbling, and Rafe could feel the tears coming on. He paused, part endeared and part exasperated. “It’s - it’s not that, I just -”

“No, you hate it and you’re going to break up with me because you think I’m a bad artist and I could never open my own tattoo shop.” She sighed dramatically, a few stray tears spilling down her cheeks. 

“Jesus, what did you drink?” He muttered to himself, shaking his head. “I’m not breaking up with you, baby.” He couldn’t help but laugh, utterly confused. “Has this been some long standing dream I’ve never heard of?”

“You’re laughing at me!” She cried out, rubbing the heels of her hands hard against her eyes. “I’m a great artist.”

“Oh my god.” Rafe muttered, grinning. “Yes, you are. Hey, how about you wait, and - um -”

He grabbed a piece of paper from his desk and held it up. “Look, I’ll draw you the tattoo, but you have to wait until you get it in the mail. So you can copy it right.” He pretended to write his initials onto the paper, knowing he had zero intention of sending it to her.

“Oh. You mean it?” She sniffled, her tears long forgotten.

“I mean it. Nothing to cry over, baby.”

She nodded, swiping the back of her hand over her eyes to get rid of her tears. “You promise to send it? So I can have you with me forever?”

He swore he melted at that statement alone. “That’s why you wanted it?”

“Yeah. And ‘cause I miss you.” She paused. “I miss your dick too, but I’m not gonna get that tattooed on me.”

He laughed loudly at that, shaking his head. “I think that’s a solid plan. No tattoos tonight, okay?” 

“I’ll wait until you come out and we can both get each other’s. Oh!” Her face lit up and it was almost painful for him that she was so far away when she was in one of his favorite moods. “Yeah, Soph?” 

“You could get my signature, on your letters! The S and the halo!” 

He paused, thinking. “That’s not too bad.” 

“No, it’d be perfect. I want it over your heart. So everyone knows you’re mine.” She declared, tracing her idea over her own heart to demonstrate. 

“Okay. I’ll think about it. Go back to your party, angel, go have fun.” He urged, feeling better now that he’d talked her down from the tattoo ledge. 

“No, I miss you, I wanna talk.” She flopped down onto her bed and propped her phone up, then wrapped her arms around her pillow. “Last night one of my roommates brought some guy home from the bar and it’s not fair. You should be here so I don’t have to get off on my own.”

Rafe grinned, shaking his head. “You’re trouble.” 

“Am not.” She protested, then grinned. “Unless you want me to be. Then I can be trouble.”

“Keep your voice down, Soph.” He admonished, knowing she had a tendency of being loud when she was drunk. “Go drink some water for me.” 

“No. You know what’s bullshit?” She fished around in her nightstand drawer, looking for something. 

“What?” 

“Ah!” She held up a small drawstring bag. “My vibrator died last week -”

“Jesus Christ, woman -” 

“- and I can’t find a replacement anywhere online. The thing won’t charge here, I think I electrocuted it. Useless.” She tossed the bag across the bed, scowling. 

He was clearly strained, rubbing his temples. “Can we go back? Since when have you had a vibrator?” 

“Since, like, sophomore year.” 

“And I didn’t know about this, why?” 

She shrugged. “You never asked and I think I can probably count on my fingers how many times we had sex in my room last semester. What was I supposed to do, reach over and whip it out when we were fucking?” 

He laughed at her brash words and dropped his head in his hands, shifting in his seat. “You’re going to be the death of me, I swear.” 

Sophie waved her hand, ignoring his struggle. “Rafe, listen to me. That picture you posted with Colin, in the swim shorts, you’re holding the beer?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I’ve literally never wanted to get down on my knees more.” 

He about choked, eyes going wide. “You can’t just say things like that without a warning, angel.” 

“I’m serious -”

“I’m sure you are.” He laughed, trying his best to ignore her tank top slipping off her shoulder and the way she licked her lips. 

“And when you come visit and we travel, I want to have sex in every country. Just so we can say we did.” She declared. 

“We’re only going to be in three, Soph. Including Spain.” He countered, attempting to switch the conversation for his own sake. 

She yawned, stretching, and her shirt slipped a little lower. “Okay, so we’ll just have to travel more together later. Fuck, I miss you.” 

“You too, baby.” He heard her name being yelled out in the background and laughed, raising his eyebrows. “Do you need to go?” 

“Prob’ly. More shots, you know how it goes.” She dragged herself up out of bed and glanced down at her shirt, sighing dramatically. “I gotta change, don’t I?” 

“No, you look great. Go have fun, I love you.” 

“No, no, I gotta change.” She insisted, pulling off her shirt with no hesitation and Rafe sucked in a breath, watching her hunt around through her laundry basket of clean clothes waiting to be folded. “You’re teasing.” 

“I’m not teasing, I have a bra.” She snapped the strap for emphasis. 

“You are teasing. I can see your underwear when you bend over, your skirt is short.” He laughed when she turned a little red and tugged it down. “You’re lying.” 

“I’m not. They’re pink with little red hearts on them.” He grinned. “Adorable.” 

“I’m not going to waste my good underwear when you’re not here.” She defended, then found the shirt she wanted. It was one of his from intramurals, with Cameron written out on the back. He held back a smirk when she tugged it on and it went to her thighs, her skirt barely peeking out under the hem. “Is this better?” 

“Yeah, you look beautiful.” He smiled. “Go back to your party.” Rafe paused, adding, “Tell Mateo I said hi.” 

“That’s weird, but alright.” She shrugged. “You be good, okay?” 

“I don’t think you’re the one that should be telling me that.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Have fun. If you go out, text me when you’re home again.” 

“Deal.” She blew him a kiss before waving and hanging up. 

taglist: @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @sunshineitsfine44 @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @oopsiedoopsie23 @babygal-babygal @thecuthoney

[hilllsnholland]

Paper Airplanes

Pairing: College!Tom x College!Y/N

Wc: 2kish 

Warnings: swearing and tooth-rotting fluff :) 

Summary: You know all those cliches in movies? yeah well, this oneshot is full of them. So...check yes Juliet? 

There were many things on your to-do list today. Homework, filing papers, possibly getting lunch if you had time (which you did not). On your long list of things, getting hit in the eye with a paper airplane was not one of them. Your hand went up to feel the sensitive hit while the projectile fell into your lap. Luckily it didn’t hit your actual cornea, just the lid, but fuck that hurt. You looked around the office/lounge area to see who was the assailant, only to see Tom. 

“For fuck sakes Tom,” You whine and throw the plane back at him. 

“Sorry love, I just wanted your attention.” He laughs and picks the plane right out of the sky. “Need someone to keep your company?” 

He signaled to the very barren student lounge/event office space that you were currently in charge of. You had taken the job as a ‘student event assistant’ last semester, which basically meant you made posters for Uni events, in charge of student activity sign-ups, paperwork, and most important taking ID pictures. It was a very laidback job though, your desk sitting in the student lounge which was usually quiet. Most of your time was consumed getting homework done or watching Hulu. 

“As long as nothing else comes at my face,” 

“I can’t-“

“Holland, I swear to God.” You narrow your eyes and he laughs. 

“You know me too well Y/N,” 

Tom says as he knocks on the locked door of your desk area. Your desk was positioned in a smaller office room that was open to the lounge. It was easy access for you to talk to other students or for others to ask questions. Mainly it was a nuisance to walk around your desk and through the door, but you dealt with it. Tom grabbed a chair next to your desk and leaned back, feet propped up on your physics textbook as he relaxed. 

You rolled your eyes, shifting his feet off your books and placing them on the free area next to them. It took some time to get used to Tom’s pestering nature, but after meeting him last semester it became a fond friendship. Tom had come to the event office to ask if he could publish posters for his brother’s movie festival. You agreed and he went straight to playfully flirt with you. Nothing had happened though, which you were trying to not mind. Although his presence made your heart thump and palms sweat, you didn’t want to jump into some puppy dog love. 

“Who do you have for physics?” 

“Watanabe,” 

“Yikes. Good luck with that babes,” Tom flips through the book and raises his brow at you. “So, what time are you off?” 

You turn your clock towards you and saw it was 4:15. Forty-five minutes until freedom, and by that you mean watching your shows while eating pizza bites. 

“I get off at five,” You spin in your chair and Tom stops you with his foot. 

“You got plans?” 

“Do I ever?” 

Tom snickers and moves your chair between his legs, your feet bouncing off his. He bites his lip and looks beyond you. For a second you thought you were going to explode. Was Tom going to ask you out? Not only would that complete every dream and wish you’ve had ever, that would also give you something to do besides self-indulge. Tom stands up suddenly and looks down at you with that shit-eating grin he always has. 

“Can you retake my ID picture?” 

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows and Tom shrugs. 

“I lost my ID. Help a boy out,” He whines while grabbing the sides of your face. “I’ll make it worth your wild.” 

You feign a sighed ‘fine’ as you turn on the ID machine. Tom hops over the waist height counter and stands in front of the small white backdrop. You spin your seat around and play with the settings until it’s not a fuzzy mess of Tom’s face. 

“Hold on,” Tom fumbles with his pockets until he pulls out a pair of circular black glasses. 

Fuck, as if he couldn’t get any cuter. Your face is flushed as he adjusts them on his face. The frames are big but they make his brown eyes sparkle behind the glass. No way could they be real, he’s just toying with you at this point. Tom rubs his lips together, sliding his tongue between the pink lines and smirking at you. He knows he looks like a whole meal. Your mind wanders. It’s getting really hot all of sudden. Now all you can think of is how his glasses would look perched upon your-

“Nose?” 

“Huh?” 

“I said, do these glasses look too big for my nose?” Tom squints his eyes at you and you laugh off the lustful thoughts. 

“No, no you look good. Why do you want to wear glasses in your ID though?” 

“I want to look studious,” He states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

A flat ‘hmph’ leaves your lips as you raise three fingers in the air. Tom relaxes and shines that perfect smile towards the camera lens. You count down and click the camera to snap the most perfect photo you’ve ever seen. Tom can’t take a bad picture, can he? This sappy crush you have is becoming a little obsessive because now you can’t stop staring at his beautiful face. The machine chucks out the new ID and you hand it to him. 

“Picture perfect,” He muses and pulls out his wallet. “I also wanted to wear the glasses to see you get all red,” 

Your chair spins in his direction and you throw a pen at him. It misses by an inch, flying past his ear as he laughs at you. Tom leans on the counter, picking the paper airplane that he threw before. He plays with it, moving the nose across the desk until it’s running past your hand that’s sitting on the computer keys. He pretends to trace your hand with the makeshift toy, humming to himself. 

“So we’re going to go eat after or?” Tom hums with that stupid twinkle in his eye. 

“Sure, you want to go to the usual?” 

Main Street. It was a small, hole in the wall place in the downtown district near the Uni. They had the best sandwiches. Tom brought you there one evening after a job fair at school. You remembered it so vividly, down to where he carved your name into the window sill by your signature spot. Tom nods and drops the paper airplane back on the desk. He has been so fixated on that damn toy since he walked in here. It was close to driving you mad. 

“Are you going to recycle that or?” 

“Please. Y/N, I’ve been waiting for you to open the airplane since I got here.” Tom states in almost a watery tone. He was pleading to you with his eyes. “I’m dying here Y/N,” 

Tom was riled up, now pacing back and forth in front of you. No wonder he was acting so strange, whatever was in the airplane had him going crazy. His excitement, or dread, was causing his mood shifts which were more than usual. You grab the airplane and unraveled it from its original form. Every unfolded layer made you nervous. What the hell did he put in here that’s making him so jumpy? You see words appear on the page and with one final crease, it shows a small note. 

Dear Y/N, 

Be my girlfriend and fly away with me? 

At the bottom of the page it has two large boxes with ‘yes’ and ‘no’ written next to them. Tom’s signature was below that, his bubbly and perfect handwriting made it official. You didn’t respond. Was this a joke? Like, was Tom Holland really asking you out with a note? 

“Are you serious?” You laugh 

Tom doesn’t react. He’s biting down on his lip and waiting for you to give him a real answer. His palms are sweating. This was the only way he could find the words to say anything. He was a little oblivious, he needed to see it in writing because words made him lost. You look at him and he seems to be getting disheartened. 

“Tom-“

“Hey it’s okay,” Tom grabs the paper and tries to stuff it into his pocket. 

“Tom-“

“No, it’s alright. I’ll see you around,” 

Tom grabs his stuff quickly and rushes out the door. You stood there feeling stupid. You laughed at him for Christ sakes! But in your defense, it seemed like a joke Tom would make. His face though, you saw the crushed look upon his face. He was gutted. You look to the clock, 4:45. Fuck it. Executive order, you were done with work and now you had to make things right. 

__

Tom sat in the dimly lit restaurant, stirring a cup of tea with a little wooden stick. His heart felt heavy, his mind was cluttered with antagonizing thoughts. He felt stupid. After days, maybe weeks, of trying to say something to Y/N, he wrote a stupid fucking note? What kind of grade school shit is that? Tom didn’t even touch his sandwich. He felt physically ill. 

His fingers brush over your name that was carved into the window sill. God, it took forever to write it into the wood. He tried a pen, knife, and keys. Took all of dinner but it happened. Your name forever carved into one of his favorite places. Tom couldn’t be mad at you. Your name sparked that light feeling in his chest. Like his heart was flying. It was dumb though, a stupid puppy dog crush. His eyes fixated on his uneaten food until something poked his nose. It didn’t hurt but it was blunt, something scratchy. A poorly made paper airplane fell on top of his Mediterranean sandwich. He looks up and sees you standing there, hands behind your back like you’ve done something wrong. 

“Y/N, you don’t-“ 

“Come on Tom, open it.” You whine and take the seat in front of him. “I’m dying here,” You mimic. 

Tom gulps hard, opening the airplane folds nervously. You were not a master of paper folding at all. The nose of your airplane was bent before it hit Tom’s nose and the creases were all wrong. But it got to its destination and that’s all that mattered. Tom unfolded it and saw your beautiful handwriting scribbled across the paper. 

Dear Tom, 

Sorry for being an ass. Do you forgive me? (Checking yes means you’re my boyfriend so choose carefully) 

Tom scans the bottom where there are two boxes. Both had the word ‘yes’ next to them, leading him with no ultimatum. He laughs, grabbing his pen and creating a new box. You sit back, still unsure if he was mad that you disregarded his note from before. Tom turns the note around and you see the new box says, ‘Definitely you div’. 

“So I’m the div huh?” You giggle while leaning close over the table. “You’re the one using primary school ways to win my heart,” 

“It worked didn’t it?” Tom wiggles an eyebrow at you, his lips looking delectable. 

“Why don’t you come over here and see,” 

Tom lifts himself slightly out of the chair to meet your lips. His one hand cupped your cheek while the other moved across your carved name on the window sill. You were trying to not completely burst into a fit of laughter. You were out of this world happy, even it was full of cliches. But maybe that was the thing about puppy love. It’s pure and full of gestures of admiration. All reservations aside, you were now falling fast into that ‘puppy dog love’. 

Tom’s lips are better than you could ever imagine. It was the thing you see in movies, that true love’s kiss or whatever. It felt right? It felt better than right, it felt like the most amazing thing you could besides looking at Tom’s beautiful face. And boy, did he feel the same way. All those days worrying about what to say paid off. He finally got to kiss the girl of his dreams. Your cute little gasps against his lips. The way your hand carresses his so softly. This was better than any dream he ever had. 

“Worked pretty well, huh?” Tom leans his forehead against yours, pecking smaller kisses to your lips. 

“Shut it Holland,” You kiss him again. “Don’t make me write a breakup airplane,” 

[santoteez]

Card and Cash - Wooyoung

Idol: Wooyoung of ATEEZ

Genre: Fluffffff

Warnings: Racy pickup lines I guess??

Word Count: 2.8k

Requested: Yes

Requested by Anon: “ i saw the other anon request an AU, so imma do one too! there is this super cute video of wooyoung working in a cafe for atiny and saying “card and cash?” so i thought maybe you could do this AU with wooyoung🥺 "You're a barista at a cafe I frequent and you think your being smooth with the coffee themed pick up lines you write on my cup, but they're just cheesy and I'm calling you out on it just to get your number, now."”

“$4.95. Name?” Wooyoung uttered, bored. He was halfway done with his shift, and he couldn’t have been in more of a rush for it to end. He seemed to be drowning in a sea of macchiatos and cold brews. And it wasn’t like the customers were any more pleasant. When it wasn’t someone complaining or being difficult, it was a pesky high schooler flirting and gushing at the silver-haired boy. He was flattered, but after a while, he strongly wished for them to leave. He sighed, counting his register for the 40th time that day, wishing for the coffee shop to magically close.

That is, until she walked in.

Her class finished early, so she decided to stop in for a drink on her way home. She had a long day on campus, dealing with professors and deadlines; she needed an escape. She walked right up to Wooyoung with a smile.

“Hi! Can I get a large iced caramel latte with extra whip?”

Wooyoung froze for longer than societally normal. He’d never seen the girl around before, but her beauty left him at a loss for words.

“Uh, y-yes. Um, c-card and c-cash?” He blurted out before realizing his mistake. He mentally cursed himself for stuttering like a bumbling idiot.

She laughed, something she hadn’t gotten a chance to do all day. She smiled at Wooyoung, who was at awe of the melodic sound of her laughter.

“Cash, please. I left my card at home. I was in such a rush for class. I couldn’t even buy breakfast.”

“I h-hate when t-that happens. M-maybe you should get a pastry with your drink?” Wooyoung suggested.

“Huh. I didn’t even think of that. How bout one of those glazed doughnuts?” She responded.

He nodded, feeling a little better from his stuttering fit. “That’s my favorite, actually. Can I get your name?”

“Y/N.” She said, handing him her cash.

‘Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.’ Wooyoung thought as he counted..

“Here you go. San should be making your order shortly-” Wooyoung stopped talking as he turned around to hand the order receipt to no one. “Or not. That rat must’ve disappeared on me again. Guess I’ll be making your drink then.”

He reached for the cup while her drink blended, eyeing the sharpie on the counter. ‘Should I? Would that be creepy?’ He thought to himself as he scribbled her name onto the cup. He turned to look at her, watched as she scrolled idly on her phone. ‘I’m gonna do it.’ He decided, scribbling extra words onto her cup. He poured her drink in, swirling the whipped cream on top before securing the lid.

“Iced caramel latte for Y/N!” He called out, placing her drink down at the pick-up station along with a straw.

“Thank you!” She smiled brightly.

“No problem, enjoy,” Wooyoung said, desperately trying to hide his blush. He watched as she zoomed out the shop, crossing the street. He mentally thanked the heavens she didn’t read her cup while she was in the store; he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle whatever her reaction would be.

Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed as San strolled out of the backroom. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Watching you trip over your own tongue at that customer that just left.” He answered shamelessly.

“You were supposed to make the drink, not eavesdrop from the back.”

The black and silver-haired boy shrugged. “I’m the manager, I can get away with it. Plus, you were right there and there wasn’t a line. It worked out.”

Wooyoung sighed, washing the utensils and setting them to dry. “Sometimes I think you’re just as dumb as that gray patch on your head.”

“What was that? I can’t hear you over the fact that you need this job and I shouldn’t fire you.”

“Firing me would mean I no longer have to work with Anna from Frozen.”

“Stop acting like you don’t love me,” San said, his smile showing his dimples.

“I’m not acting. I don’t love you.” Wooyoung rolled his eyes but smiled back nonetheless.

-

-

Y/N sighed as she walked into her apartment, setting her drink down on the table. It was a good thing she bought that doughnut from the coffee shop; she hadn’t realized how hungry she was.

“Y/N, is that you?” Alex, her roommate, called from down the hall.

“Yeah, it’s me.” She answered, shrugging off her jacket, leaving her in just her crop top. Thank God it’s Friday. I was getting sick of that place.”

“That bad, huh?” Alex asked, sitting down at the table.

“Bad isn’t the word. Try impossible.” Y/N said from the kitchen, making a quick sandwich. She didn’t want to cook just yet.

“Looks like you had one thing go right, though,” Alex said.

“What are you talking about?” Y/N asked, confused.

“Whoever was at the store you stopped at must like you. They wrote you a note.” She said, pointing to the cup.

Y/N grabbed the cup, surprised at how she had not noticed the entire way home. Just underneath her name, in Wooyoung’s loopy handwriting:

I like you a latte.

 Y/N smiled, blushing at the thought of Wooyoung writing some cheesy pickup line on her cup.

“You’re blushing. You must like him.” Alex poked her roommate in the arm.

Y/N swatted her away. “Relax. I met him today.”

“So when are you going back?”

“Should I?”

“Uh, yes. You gotta let him know you saw the pickup line! And you definitely have to find out if it was a one-time thing. Go tomorrow.”

“Doesn’t tomorrow seem a little desperate?”

Alex shrugged. “It’s not like you’re the one writing pickup lines.”

Following Alex’s advice, Y/N headed back to the shop in hopes Wooyoung would be there. And sure enough, there he was, listening to the group of high school girls with a look of boredom.

“What do you think I should order, Wooyoung? I was thinking a mocha Frappuccino with chocolate whipped cream, but would that be too many calories? I should stick to regular whipped cream, right? I’m sure you’d know. You look like you work out.” The girl blabbered on.

“No idea, ma’am, but please make it quick. You’re holding up the line.”

The girl turned around to see Y/N in line, glowering at the much older girl.

“Well, I mean, there isn’t much of a line, right? Just some girl with a shirt that way too short, don’t you think?”

“I-” Y/N scoffed, visibly shocked, glancing down at her crop top. It wasn’t even that revealing!

“Easy for you to say. You’re wearing a uniform. Who’s to say you don’t dress like that too?” Wooyoung said, defending Y/N.

“Maybe we can meet outside of here and you can find out?” The girl pressed.

The ‘Authorized Personnel Only’ door swung open to reveal an annoyed San.

“Ladies, I hate to intrude on the fun, but as Wooyoung said, you are holding up the line. Since you’re indecisive, why don’t you slide over this way and decide while I open the register? Once it’s open, I can take care of you.”

The girls groaned, all sliding over except the most persistent one. “Why do we always have to move over?”

“May I remind you, Cassidy, I was hearing you from back there for the past ten minutes. To be nice, I lingered back there thinking you would eventually wrap it up. But you haven’t, and it’s just me and Wooyoung here, and you’re making us lose money. Also, don’t forget I have the power to ban you from the store. This is your first time here in, what, five months? I’m sure you wouldn’t want to be shunned again. Now, a mocha Frappuccino with chocolate whipped cream, was it?” San said, a smile plastered on his face.

The girl huffed in frustration, but moved nonetheless, freeing Wooyoung from her verbal suffocation.

“Why do you give this other barista a hard time, Cass? He’s hot, too.” One girl asked.

“Yeah, but this one has a girlfriend.” Cassidy rolled her eyes, causing San to chuckle from the drink station, shaking his head.

Y/N walked up to the counter, smiling shyly at the light-colored haired boy. “Seems like you’re quite the hit around here.”

Wooyoung chuckled, pretending to focus on something on his screen. “Something like that.” He glanced at her checkered, cropped button-up, which was tied into a messy bow at the end. “And your shirt is just fine, by the way.”

“Why thank you, I like it a latte.” Y/N smirked.

Wooyoung glanced at her, a blush visible on his cheeks, but said nothing. “Do you want the same as last time, or are you feeling adventurous?”

“Well, what would an adventurous drink be?”

He shrugged. “Lots of our drinks are, but one of the tamer ones is the Marshmallow Latte. It’s a vanilla latte with caramel and hazelnut and a roasted marshmallow on top.”

“You’re trying to give me coffee with a ginormous marshmallow on top?” Y/N asked incredulously.

Wooyoung looked off into the distance, seeming to ponder the question. “Well, yeah.”

Y/N sighed. “Alright, I’ll give it a try. If it’s gross I want my money back.”

“If you don’t like it, I’ll pay you back from my own pocket,” Wooyoung said confidently.

Y/N paid and moved out of line while Wooyoung moved to make her drink.

“You offered her the Marshmallow Latte? I thought you hated making those things. You always complain about roasting the marshmallows.” San said, surprised.

Wooyoung huffed. “You’re very nosey, you know.”

“I like to think of it as observant.”

Wooyoung walked away from the older boy, fetching the kitchen torch. He roasted the marshmallow, careful not to torch the cup. He had already written on it, after all.

“Marshmallow Latte for Y/N!” He shouted, setting the cup down. “Go head, try it. I’ll go get my wallet right now.” He challenged.

Y/N took a sip, her eyebrows raising in surprise. The caramel and hazelnut complemented each other deliciously but wasn’t overpoweringly sweet. Which was good, because that’s where the marshmallow came in.

“Well?” Wooyoung smirked.

“Damn. That’s good.” Y/N admitted defeat.

“Told you. I gotta get back to the register. See you, Y/N.” He waved.

Y/N was walking out, almost forgetting the motive of her visit. She peered down at her cup, and sure enough, there it was.

Can you pass the coffee and sugar? You just made me cream my pants.

Y/N covered her mouth, stifling a laugh. She turned back to the platinum-haired boy, who was helping another customer. He met her gaze, winking before closing the cash register.

The cycle repeated over the course of a month. Y/N walked in, Wooyoung would push her to try a drink and write a cheesy line on the cup.

Hey, they call me coffee cause I grind so fine

Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but here's my number, so caramel me maybe?

Hey girl, are you a chai because I’d like to get dirty.

I can feel something brewing between the two of us.

I have no idea how you can look so great pre-coffee.

She had grown a collection in her tiny room. It was now Thanksgiving break. Y/N’s parents were out seeing the world now that she had moved out, so there was nowhere for her to go this year. She lounged in bed, twirling the latest addition to her collection.

I'm soy into you.

The shop was crazy busy that day, with students from all nearby schools cramming and getting their fix. When Y/N walked in, she was sure she wouldn’t get a pickup line. It was too hectic. Wooyoung was tapping the screen at the speed of light while San balanced making several drinks at once.

Y/N got on line and quickly ordered, with Wooyoung giving her a quick smile before taking the next customer.  She was so preoccupied with moving through the crowd, she didn’t notice Wooyoung tossing San a certain cup.

It was short and sweet, written hastily. It was then that Y/N decided she had to be bold. She knew he was planning to take off and see his family for the holiday, and she wanted to confront him before he left. Who knows what can happen when he leaves? He could realize he didn’t really like her, or find someone else who acted quicker…

Y/N jumped up from bed, getting ready. She was wearing a cropped tank top and sweats, so she threw on a long denim jacket and sneakers, heading out the room.

Alex was in the living room, channel surfing. “Where you flying off to?” She asked.

“I’m gonna tell him.”

“Woah, really? Wooyoung?”

“Yup.” Y/n grabbed her keys.

“Well, shit, wait for me! I can’t miss this!” Alex said, grabbing her anorak from off the coat rack.

Y/N and Alex got off the cab she insisted on hailing. She wanted to get there while her adrenaline was still on a high. She swung the entrance door open, storming in with Alex right on her tail.

It looked like a slow day, with San on the outer part of the counter, leaning against the display, eating popcorn and Wooyoung idly wiping the dishes.

“Wooyoung!” Y/N said, though it came out more like a gasp.

He turned around, smiling when he saw who it was. “Y/N! Thank God, for a second I thought it was Cass-”

“I like you.”

Silence filled the quaint shop. Even San stopped chewing momentarily, staring at the pair.

He handed the bowl to Alex. “Want some?” He asked, resuming his chewing. Alex laughed, grabbing from the bowl.

“W-wait, really?” Wooyoung asked, his stutter returning. “Are you sure you wanna take a chance on some random weirdo barista?” He laughed nervously.

“Well, when you put it like that, I don’t know. You know what I do know? You're a barista at a cafe I frequent and you think you’re being smooth with the coffee themed pickup lines you write on my cup, but they're just cheesy and I'm calling you out on it just to get your number, now.”

Wooyoung smiled, blushing furiously. “Is that so?”

Y/N nodded. “And I had to tell you before you ran off back home and wrote on another girl’s cup.”

Wooyoung laughed heartily. “Bold and jealous. I can dig it.” He nodded. “Well, did you come here all this way to tell me that or do you want a drink?”

“Actually,” San piped up, the pair momentarily forgetting they weren’t alone. “It’s been a slow day, why don’t we close up and do something fun? Like a double date or something?”

The words ‘double date’ caused Wooyoung and Y/N to turn suddenly, realizing Alex was snuggled up under San’s arm.

“WAIT. That’s your-” Y/N and Wooyoung said at the same time.

“So You knew who Y/N was this entire time, and you didn’t tell me?” Wooyoung narrowed his eyes.

“You never asked. And honestly, it was a lot more interesting this way.” San shrugged.

“Alexandria Watkins you shady lady.” Y/N shook her head.

“Hey! You could’ve been talking about a different Wooyoung, I didn’t know!”

“Oh right, because you’ll find a ton of Wooyoungs in the middle of New York City.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Anyways.” San interrupted. “Let me just lock up and we can spend the afternoon together, cool?” He said, kissing Alex’s forehead and heading to the back.

“I’m gonna use the bathroom really quick, we rushed over here so suddenly,” Alex said, disappearing too.

As soon as she was out of sight, Y/N was pulled into Wooyoung, who pressed his lips to hers in a chaste liplock.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He said, caressing her cheek.

“And now, you get to do it whenever you want.”

“Don’t tempt me, we can run out on those two right now.”

Suddenly, there was a sudden darkness from Wooyoung’s jacket being thrown over them.

“Let her breathe, geez! She JUST said yes to your creepy self.” San said, locking the registers. “Let’s go.”

They all walked out of the shop, San locking up and flipping the ‘open’ sign to the ‘gone Brewin!’ side.

“Alright, we’re good to go. Are you two seriously wearing just those little shirts and light jackets? It’s November.”

The girls shrugged.

San shook his head, heading to the edge of the street. He lifted his arm in the arm, shouting “Taxi!” A bright yellow vehicle pulled up immediately and he opened the door, letting the girls in, while Wooyoung got in from the other side. The four squeezed into the backseat.

“The Galleria, please,” San said, double-checking he had enough cash for the trip.

Wooyoung fished his phone out of his pocket, texting the family group chat.

“I’ll be home for Christmas, everyone. See you then!”

“Everything alright, son?” His mother replied.

“Everything’s fine.” He answered as Y/N slid her hand in his. He looked up at her, deep in conversation with Alex and San.

 “I met a girl.”

Thanks, Anon!

[vagrantblvrd]

Mavin on n off relationship, fluff?

I’m going to make this FAHC because that’s the kind of mood I’m in at the moment?

Michael and Gavin meet when they’re just getting into the ~criminal life. This chance meeting at a bar or a club somewhere, a few drinks in them where they’re not quite drunk but definitely more likely to make a fuck it, why not kind of decision, right?

And they’re both a little lonely – and hey, that guy isn’t half bad looking and look at that smile, so one thing leads to another and they end up having a one-night stand. Gavin leaving before Michael wakes up because he has a plane he has to catch, but he leaves a note and his number. Little smiley face and an invitation to call him sometime.

And Michael, right.

He’s like oh, okay, right. Sure.

But then a few weeks later and he’s having A Night.

Maybe a little beat up and bruised after a shitty job and drinking himself stupid doesn’t seem all that appealing. And he’s just kind of staring around his dump of an apartment wondering what the hell he thinks he’s doing and notices his wallet fell on the floor, gets all annoyed for no reason in particular and picks it up and sees this little piece of paper poking out, and that makes him even more annoyed because now he has to straighten that shit out, right?

Opens his wallet and cleans out old fast food receipts and the whatnot and is about to crumple up that errant piece of paper when the handwriting on it catches his eye, makes him pause.

Fucking Gavin’s handwriting, that dumb excuse about needing to catch a plane and the stupid smiley face.

Paper a little worn, ink faded and smeared because there were other days, nights, where he thought about calling Gavin up, but didn’t. He’s a fucking criminal for God’s sake, and while he got the impression Gavin was hardly an upstanding citizen, he didn’t seem the type to get his hands dirty the way Michael has. (Maybe that’s just wishful thinking on his part because he doesn’t want Gavin to have to do the things he has, things he will do sooner or later, who knows.)

And Michael just stares at it for a long damn time before he has that fuck it, why not moment and calls the number Gavin gave him.

Half expects it to be a fake number, Gavin fucking with him or whatever, but after a few rings Gavin answers.

Sounds groggy as hell, like Michael woke him up or something, and just as he’s starting to apologize for bothering him -

“Michael?”

He still sounds a little out of it, but Michael swears there’s this happy little note to his voice that stops him from ending the call.

“Uh, yeah. It’s me?”

He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing, but Gavin hasn’t hung up on him and it’s nice to hear a friendly voice.

So…they talk.

Michael finds out Gavin really did have to catch a flight that morning way back when. Something about helping his friend with a spot of trouble back in England – he’s still there now, which explains him waking the idiot up.

“Fuck, that’s – what time is it there?”

Gavin laughs him off, tells him it doesn’t matter because his sleep schedule is all fucked anyway (Michael’s words, not his), but when Michael presses Gavin sighs – all fond and shit. (Michael has this moment to wonder when the two of them had time to become fond of one another, but it’s not like he has room to talk, so…)

“A little after three,” Gavin tells him, sounding more awake as he does.

Michael listens as Gavin putters around on his end of the line. Hears water running for a moment and these little clinks and clatters, Gavin’s muffled dammit once when he spills something, and then Gavin’s asking him how things have been since they saw each other last.

Michael can’t exactly be like, “Well, I just fucking killed a couple of guys, and also may have broken my hand???” so he flips it back on Gavin, because no, he asked first.

He did not, but Gavin just laughs at him and tells him a clearly edited version of what he’s been doing. Mentions his old friend Dan and these…business associates of his and a deal that fell through. Gavin coming back to help him and somewhere in there a kettle whistles and Michael realizes he was listening to Gavin making himself some tea earlier, hears him muttering to himself as he doctors it up the way he likes and cannot fucking believe how British Gavin is. (Like, clearly he knew Gavin is British, but somehow it didn’t really click until just now.)

“Michael,” Gavin chides, smile in his voice, “don’t be mean, Michael.”

Michael starts laughing, because Jesus Christ.

They talk for a little bit longer, and that odd sort of restlessness, whatever that’s had Michael all wound up eases, and he tells Gavin a – clearly – edited version of what he’s been up to. Stumbles a little here and there because wow, yeah, and Gavin just listens. Makes these little noises every now and then, but doesn’t comment, doesn’t pass judgment, and it’s…nice.

Real nice.

When they run out of things to say they hand up, Gavin making Michael promise to call him again soon and Michael’s like oh, okay, right. Sure.

Laughs like an idiot when he gets a package with fucking tea inside, and a “proper” kettle along with this ridiculously painstakingly written set of instructions on how to make tea.

Calls Gavin up that night to call him and idiot and Gavin is like Michael, pls as he walks Michael through the process of making tea the way it’s meant to be made and they talk for hours about nothing. (Never stops to wonder how the fuck Gavin knows where he lives, because yeah.)

They talk a few times a week after that, and when Gavin sounds like he’s having A Night Michael makes tea – pretends he doesn’t remember how to do it right and gets Gavin rile up enough to walk him through it again.

By the time he’s got his mug of tea in hand, Gavin sounds little less down, or tense, or whatever he’s feeling that night and in a good enough place to talk about what’s got him so fucked up.

Then one day Michael’s on a job, misses a call and when he checks it’s Gavin, telling him he’s going to be ~away for a bit, that he won’t be available for their usual talks, but don’t worry – like that’s possible – he’ll call him when he’s done with this pesky little Thing.

Michael tries not to worry, but hey, it’s Gavin and of course he does. And just about the time he’s thinking about booking a flight to England – Gavin calls.

Asks if Michael would mind picking him up at that airport? He could take a cab or a rideshare, but -

“I’m going to fucking kill you.”

Gavin laughs, and it sounds tired, and Michael goes to get him.

Gavin sleeps for the rest of the day, and when he wakes up he gets this smile on his face when he sees Michael get up to make tea.

“Don’t look so smug, asshole.”

So they have tea and don’t really talk much – just a comment here, and observation there. Gavin mentioning that the Dan Problem is resolved, but there are new obligations now.

“Nothing to worry about, love,” Gavin says, and even though he still looks a little tired, he doesn’t look like he’s lying.

(Not that Michael would know what that looks like on Gavin, but he has a good idea of what it would sound like and this isn’t that.)

Gavin sticks around for a few days – and that initial attraction is still there so one thing leads to another  again – and eventually Gavin has to leave.

“Obligations,” he says, awkward little twitch of his shoulder, and it’s not like Michael has any say in it, right?This time he drives Gavin to the airport, and bites back all the things he wants to say to him he shouldn’t.  

“If you need help, for anything, fucking call me,” he says, because that at least is safe enough.

Gavin gives him this look, all soft and fond and things left unsaid and kisses him goodbye.

Michael goes back to his dump of an apartment that seems emptier without Gavin there, and throws himself into work for a bit after that.

They still talk on the phone, all these things they don’t say, and every so often Gavin comes to town and they make the most of the time they have before he has to leave again. (It gets worse each time, and by then Michael’s past denial because even he’s not that dense.)

During this he’s making a bit of a name for himself, gets hired on by the Fakes and moves up in the world.

Gets a better apartment and shrugs when Jeremy and Ryan are helping him move and he gets an odd look for the tea paraphernalia – various types and little gadgets and the whatnot Gavin sends him now and then – and is just like.

“What? Something wrong with liking tea?”

Before he gets the chance to tell Gavin about moving he gets a package. A new tea kettle and his favorite teas and a note with a smiley face on it. (He’s stopped wondering how the fuck Gavin knows the things he knows, figures it’s for the best in the long run, really.)

And then!

Geoff stats grumbling about the fact that the crew is limited in the jobs/heists they can pull without a hacker in their ranks.

Sure, Ryan knows a little something about them, but it’s not as enough for some of the things Geoff wants them to do.

Fortunately, though, Geoff’s Very Good Friend Burnie happens to owe him a favor or two, knows a hacker he can loan out to them.

Michael has no idea why Geoff looks so fucking delighted with himself when he tells Michael to go pick the new guy up at the airport, but whatever.

Jeremy and Ryan tag along because they’re curious about this guy, right? Geoff’s been talking him for a while, apparently he’s some kind of ~genius hacker and incredible thief and sounds way too good to be true.

So they’re waiting around for this asshole, Michael wondering what the fuck Geoff even meant when he said they’d know the asshole when they saw him. (The look he’d given Michael like he should just magically know what the fuck any of that meant.)

“Michael?”

Michael’s heart does this fucking weird little flip in his chest because okay, what the fuck – and turns to see Gavin standing there.

Looks like a idiot, wild hair and bags under his eyes, scruffy beard and tired.

“Gavin?”

Jeremy watching the two of them like this is the best shit he’s see in fucking forever.

Gavin explaining that he’s here for work as he gives Michael a pointed look, and Michael’s sudden realization that this is too much of a coincidence, and goddamn Geoff anyway.

Gavin laughing at him while they go to collect his bags and Michael scowling at him because Gavin obviously knew what was going on.

Ryan pulls up in the car and Michael is like yes because the idiot’s wearing his stupid mask. Michael’s expecting the usual response people have to meeting the Vagabond, but all Gavin does is smile like this is a pleasant surprise.

“Hi, Ryan.”

And Ryan, the bastard, he sounds just as happy.

“Hi, Gavin.”

Michael and Jeremy staring at the two of them who just shrug and tell them it’s a long story, and then they dive back to the penthouse where Geoff is smug as fuck.

Takes the time to explain that he and Burnie have both noticed a dip in moral within their respective crews as of late.  (Looks right at Michael and Gavin who are maybe standing a little too closely together for people who have just met, which is what they would have been if their lives weren’t a fucking romcom without them noticing.)

This little conversation of theirs and ~ingenious plan to fix that shit when they realized what was going on, and Jesus fucking Christ.

Everyone thinking it’s the most hilarious thing in the world, and Michael being like, goddammit.

But, you know.

Gavin’s here to stay now, at least for a while assuming he doesn’t want to go back to the Roosters, so…

Yeah.

There’s a lot of Tea, and talking and things other than talking.

Gavin deciding he’ll stay in Los Santos after he’s been there for a while, because think of the money they’ll save on their phone bills now, Michael!

Michael is like, for the love of God shut up, you asshole, and kisses Gavin to make him shut up.

He has to get a bigger place because the one he has now doesn’t have enough room for his shit and -Gavin’s. (The strays they end up with thanks to Gavin and his stupid, soft heart.)

When Ryan and Jeremy helps Michael move they know exactly why Michael has a Thing for tea, and Michael hates all of them so fucking much, really.

[jenuminous]

Countdown | pjs

pjs | 2.2k “don’t catch a cold again! p.s. messy handwriting!!!” there’s more Jisung can say; but not in words. despite it, you catch his message anyways.

genre fluff, schoolmate! jisung

messages I’m always soft for jisung

8:30 was the time you were expected to be in class already.

Yet, you’re standing outside of someone’s house, shivering from the chilly winds weaving through you and your cardigan. And the time is 8:20; when the school is exactly 10—minutes away from here. You have been ringing the bell for so a good minute or two, and yet the house seems to be dead silent. Impatient for this ‘boy’ you are waiting for, your feet rolls on the pavement at a fast pace.

“Park Jisung!”

Remembering where Jisung always placed his spare keys (which were right behind the rosemary bushes), you shout out his name as a warning, slamming the front door behind your back. Hearing the silent atmosphere as your reply, you have forgotten completely about Jisung’s parents being away for work, so it wasn’t a surprise after all that Jisung wasn’t still out of his bed without getting his back slapped from his mother.

His bedroom was still dim, though the sunlight was bright enough to break through the curtains. “Get up,” the sound of the curtains drawing interrupts between, “I’m going to be late because of you again,” before calling the police for a missing child, you hear a mumble with a rustle, followed by an orange dyed bird nest popping out from the thick blankets.

With eyes barely opened up, he mumbled your name in his deepened morning voice. His voice was deep enough already, surprising you always that it could be deepened even more.

“It wasn’t my fault last time,” he groaned as he pushed himself back onto the mattress, retrieving himself back into the blanket. “And I didn’t tell you where the spare key is for this.” instead of further conversation, you slap him with a bright, mustard hoodie you have noticed dangling at the edge of the swiveling chair, telling what time it really was.

“If you’re going to be like this, you’re walking alone next time.”

“Fine,” he snaps, snatching away the hoodie you have thrown on top of his face to wear them as he walks, grumbling to the washroom. You loved it when he wore hoodies to school. Not that Jisung only had hoodies in his closet, but he looked perfect in those. The baggy sleeves always bugging him to push it up, the warmth of him still left inside when you whined for it.

Throwing his hoodie as he set outside, you grinned satisfyingly until your phone turned up with the time 8:31 on. “Holy— Jisung if we aren’t hurrying up—” He took a glimpse of your phone, then to your wrist, quickly changing his sight to somewhere in the distance when it met with yours.

“Hold tight,” Jisung muttered simply, snatching your wrist as he started sprinting at a fast pace. Thank God your heart wasn’t at your wrist, or else he would’ve felt it blowing up every step you were taking with him.

☁

Lucky enough that your chemistry teacher cared less about taking attendance this morning, or else you would have your day ruined with his “fatherly” nag (thanks to Jisung). Blowing out your nerves with a sigh, it didn’t take you many steps to realize Jisung, already leaning onto one of the lockers, placing both his huge hands on the edge of his horizontally flipped phone.

It leads you to the curiosity of how he came out so fast to wait for you when his class was on the first floor, while your’s was the third. Adding onto the surprise, the bell just rang.

“Jisung, you’re wasting all the items!”

“No, don't touch anything, Donghyuck. Okay?” He also had companies with him — Chenle, and Donghyuck, who was his cousin — stuck dearly on each side, which Jisung seemed to find very uncomfortable with.

Jisung always had his signature face of expressing it out: eyes narrowed up, mouth opened up to say something but never done. Sometimes seeing them stuck onto each other for a better view of the small phone reminded you of three elementary kids (though Donghyuck was on his grad year): nothing more or less.

“I’m betting y/n’s gonna run this better than you,”

Noticing your approach, Donghyuck looks up as he mentions your name cheekily, and Jisung’s head shoots up with widened eyes. Chenle, poking a finger into Jisung’s cheeks, laugh wildly as he adds on ‘cute’ on every breath he was taking. Jisung quickly shakes himself off from the two bullies, shaking his head from left to right.

“Was I supposed to hear that?”

“No, they’re just being themselves. Ignore them,”

Again, he pulls you timidly by pinching the edge of your sleeves, which only let the two boys increasing their volume of teasing. Jisung rolled his eyes and groaned to let them shut up, but you knew they never will. “You know, uh, Ms. Lee wanted me to get my late homework in, so,” Jisung clasped his hands together to grab back your attention, eyes rolling to his right side, signaling for something.

“We can go? Because,” he asks nervously, trying his best to only show the back of his body to Chenle and Donghyuck, who seemed to be finding their prey very interesting for some reason. “Oh, you’ve got some pick—up line going on there!” Donghyuck shouted out with his hand circled around his lips, making Chenle shout out his excitements.

“Come on, Jisung! Don’t disappoint me!”

“I can’t believe I have them friends,” Shaking his head in disturbance, he just grabs your wrist again like in the mornings, passing through the crowd of people who were also going to their next class. You could blurry hear Chenle screaming out something, but seeing Jisung’s back was already enough distraction.

Jisung never looked back when he grabbed your wrist; unless you faked an ‘ow’ to make him turn around with a worried face.

☁

[don’t catch a cold again! p.s. messy handwriting!!!]

The huge exclamation marks at the end only made you laugh softly, sticking back the post—it onto the thin, yet big sized lemon colored notebook that can easily be bought at any stationary stores at the cheapest price. You haven’t noticed it until the end of lunch, where you have forgotten to bring your textbook from the locker. The note was placed neatly on the top shelf of your locker, and it wasn’t far to get a clue who the manito was.

It was just after the day you have forgotten your umbrella, and you had to run through the heavy rains to catch a cold from it. Calling Jisung was an option, but you couldn’t bug him when he was at practice. Autumn colds were strong and tough, letting you only shift side to side in your bed with constant fevers for several days.

You have overheard from Chenle that he has been taking notes seriously for certain classes, and he was sure that it was for you. Flipping over the pages, you noticed the pages filled up with barely any empty spaces, or maybe it was just his handwriting being too big. He even stuck on colorful post—its onto each different classes, making it easier for you to see.

Too bad you never had any more classes with him for today,  and you heard him whine about it in the mornings. Picking up your phone, you hurriedly hit him up with a “cute” text.

[you know i adore you with all my heart right? 😍]

You were expecting a reply from him denying the fact in less than a minute, but to your disappointment, there was only a ‘read’ in capitals below the text you’ve sent.

☁

“My phone got confiscated.”

You look up as you felt a sudden coldness on your cheek, spending chills down to make you shiver. “Oh, did I scare you,” you see Jisung with a smile. He came just in time when you were about to ditch him with the others, letting you kick some of the pebbles while questioning the absence of his reply.

“Finally,” you say cheekily as you rolled your eyes, “I thought you blocked me or something for sending that.”

“Yeah, nice job Jisung. We were about to leave you for pizza or something.”

Jisung shot Donghyuck with eyes of disbelief but soon loosened his tension soon enough with a short smile. “No, why would I.” No matter what form of smile it was, Jisung’s smiles were brighter under the autumn sunlight, making it more perfect to have a sip of the cold coca—cola Jisung has gotten from the vending machine from you.

“Oh!” Jisung exclaims in excitement, only grabbing your attention quickly. He seemed to be finding something very important, swinging his backpack to his stomach. And what he pulled out from it was nothing but a sealed ziplock bag, with fancy, yet aesthetic tickets quite wrinkled up by the pressures from his school books.

“I…... was wondering if you’d want to go to the amusement park with me? They’re free tickets—” Jisung talked gibberish afterward, unable to explain more while matching your eyes. Your heart shoots out sudden shots of fireworks across, ringing as seeing a watercolor of red spreading across his face. “— and I wanted to go with you,”

You giggled as you watched him being awkward with himself too, rubbing his neck with his hands, while the other had it shot out for you with the tickets. “You remembered that I wanted to go the amusement park,” you take the tickets, as you giggle out your words in front of him, half—blushing, half—touched by him.

“I can’t believe I’m still single between these losers,” Chenle shrugs at Donghyuck’s words, as they watched you and Jisung lead the way without them even following.

☁

The stars sequenced on the night sky shimmered brighter with the crescent white moon. Each having a cotton candy in your hand, the other was inside both of your hoodie pockets. It was chilly as Fall was settling themselves roughly, only making you shiver in the sudden cold breeze.

You have never stayed up in an amusement park, which explained why everything looked so splendidly beautiful. The lamps were decorated with either bronze leaves or pumpkins, toning down the atmosphere by a level or two. You didn’t like the cotton candy melting inside your mouth so quickly, and it surely didn’t hurt if you stole a bite from Jisung’s.

Your legs were sore by now, and you had to keep on bending them several times as you waited patiently at a good spot to watch the parade. Eyes darting up in the sky, you bite your fingernails that felt quite numb. “Don’t you— uh, like the parade?” Jisung catches your eyes sudden, making a face for you biting your fingernails again.

“No, it’s just that my hands are cold.”

“Do you—”

By then, Jisung was hushed as the lights disappeared, the moon and worker’s flashlights being the only source of light. There was a moment of silence, as everyone gasped at the sudden darkening of the surroundings. There was a voice ringing in the speakers, relieving the crowds with his soft voice.

“And before we get ready for the breathtaking scene, shall we all countdown for it?” Cheers were enough as an answer, and within the speaker’s lead, the crowd followed quickly.

Five, Jisung seemed to be fidgeting so badly. Four, meeting your eyes, you could see his lips moving, saying something but you couldn’t catch it by three. Two, he came closer to you, shoulders finally meeting together, but you didn’t have to be apologetic this time.

One; and at that count, thousands of colored flames filled up the sky, popping and spreading in it’s designed way. Not only that, you felt a sudden warmth spreading on your hand, next to realize your hand linked with Jisung’s, inside his hoodie pocket.

“Jisung?”

How would your timid voice reach when the fireworks were going on, bursting inside your ears like drums?

Unlike you, Jisung seemed to be disinterested about the fact he — for the first time — held your hands instead of the wrist, busy watching the rises of the fireworks. You didn’t know if it was because of the bright colors, or if it was the cold, but you notice a tint of red spread across his face, Jisung turning away slightly from your direction.

It was surely the heart ringing at the beat of the fireworks, bursting out with love this time. The grip of his hand gotten tighter, coating over double layers of warmth onto your hand. Without further words, you lean into his cheeks, planting a short kiss.

Jisung seemed to be stunned at the moment, gently feeling his kissed cheeks on his fingertips as he turned around to meet your sweet gaze, eyes completely in deep love. Jisung let out a smirk, as he pulled you into his arms, grabbing your arm to wrap it around his waist. “Gosh...... you’re beautiful.” whatever his blurred words were, everything seemed like a daydream.

He slid down your jawline with his fingers, softly as if he was touching a masterpiece of the greatest artist. Lifting your chin up slightly, you close your eyes afterwards; feeling his soft, plump lips on yours.

[safarikalamari]

Coincide - Chapter 13

Previous - Next

Chapter Summary: Race wants the world to stop so he can get off for a moment

Words: 1869

A/N: will i ever have a coherent summary: the answer is no

-

AO3

or

The hospital was too quiet when Race stepped in. There was hardly a person in sight and everything he saw appeared to be in suspension. It was as if the building was going to cave in on itself and Race rushed to the elevator, his breaths turning rapid and shallow.

By the time he reached Spot’s room, he was ready to let all it all go, but when Spot didn’t turn right away, when there wasn’t even a hint of a smile, Race could only feel his chest tighten.

“Spot?” he ventured, taking slow, tentative steps towards the bed.

“Hey, Race,” Spot sighed, his gaze stuck on the all-too familiar space above the bed.

Swallowing, Race made his way to the bedside, yet he didn’t rush to touch Spot. It was as if anything sudden would break the world around them and Race waited for Spot to take the lead.

Spot took his time to turn to Race, his face pale and worn. His mouth opened and closed a few times, as if there was no voice left in him, before he finally murmured weighted words that struck Race like blows to the stomach.

“What?” Race’s voice trembled, his mind refusing to believe what he just heard.

“It’s not that I want you breaking your promise,” Spot spoke just above a whisper, a sharp breath leaving him. “But you shouldn’t have to remember this part of me.”

Race swayed a little, finding his chair quickly as he grabbed Spot’s hand. He hated how fragile it was, how Spot was growing weaker by the day.

“Regardless of what happens, I want to remember everything,” Race shook his head. “It’s not about the best or worst, it’s about you.”

Spot sighed, his stare back on the ceiling above him. He seemed to be testing Race’s words in the space above him before he turned to Race, his eyes gentle.

“Just this one thing, Race. That’s all I ask.”

Spikes ran into Race’s heart as he battled with the path that lay before him. If this was Spot’s final days, Race wanted to be there until the end. He didn’t want to make the same mistake as before, where he hadn’t even had a chance to say goodbye.

Yet, something held him in place, where he wanted to respect Spot’s wishes. If this really was what Spot wanted, Race could understand. Not push Spot for his own selfish reasons.

“Just a few days, right?” Race swallowed down the lump in his throat, his vision going blurry.

Spot nodded, his thumb caressing Race’s finger. “You’ve got a dance to prepare and I’m expecting it to be perfect.”

Even in these dark moments, Spot knew just what to say for a smile. Race nodded as he began to cry, his face struggling to keep the happy exterior.

“I’ll pour my heart into it just for you,” Race leaned forward, bringing up Spot’s hand to kiss the back of it.

“Hm, heart,” Spot laughed a little and Race let out his own small noise of amusement.

“God, I love you,” Race blurted out.

He couldn’t help but notice how Spot’s grip seemed to gain a little more strength and he melted under the strong gaze that held everything.

“I love you too,” Spot smiled, his face unlike anything Race had seen before.

Vulnerable and contemplative, Race saw all of Spot’s fears, joys, unknowns for the briefest of moments. Wanting to share in this, Race stood then so he could bring them into a proper kiss.

If this was to be their end, Race couldn’t have asked for more, his life wrapped up in Spot’s welcoming embrace.

~

“This sucks,” Race stared out at the illuminated city below, his thoughts drifting back to Spot.

Standing out on the balcony of Mush and Blink’s apartment, Race picked at the splintered wood and his gaze drifted to the stars as he flicked a sliver off the edge. He had told them everything, mouth going at top speed the moment he stepped in the place.

Now, the three were outside, the sounds of the highway hovering in their silence.

“I’ll keep checking on him. He doesn’t have a choice there,” Mush edged in.

Blink nodded in agreement and Race tried to put on a happy exterior for his friends. All it would be was a few days, it wasn’t as if Spot was sending him across the country. Except, that was exactly what it seemed like. Even in the same city, Spot was too far away, in an artificial world that no longer was a saving grace.

“Do you remember…” Mush began, a small laugh leaving him. “The day Andrea let us combine all the juice in the fridge?”

A smile worked its way onto Race’s face and he nodded. They were in elementary school, a small idea growing into a rolling snowball and they had begged, pleased with Andrea to let them try this experiment.

Looking back, Andrea had let them suffer longer than needed, but he brought a large pot out and the mixing began. It hadn’t tasted so bad, but it certainly was something Race didn’t need to try again.

Blink grinned with Race and Mush before his eyebrows furrowed. “Wait, you did that last week, Mush.”

“That’s why I remembered,” Mush smirked and Race fell into laughter.

This felt good, light and joyful compared to earlier. If only Spot was here to experience it too.

Just like that, the aching returned and Race shook his head in apology. He couldn’t understand how either of his friends were putting up with him. Especially Mush, who wasn’t new to this.

“Oh, Race,” Mush tugged him in for a hug and Race buried his face in Mush’s shoulder.

Blink approached as well, hugging Race from behind and the three stayed as they were as Race took slow, shaking breaths.

“I thought I would be ready, but I’ll never be. Not with Andrea, not with Spot,” Race muttered. “God, what if I lost the both of you?”

“You won’t,” Blink said with ease. “The three of us will die on the same day, I’m sure.”

Race couldn’t fight back his smile and he lifted his head, a moment’s hesitation as he looked in Mush’s eyes before turning to Blink.

“Love you, guys,” Race rested his head on Mush, keeping Blink in his peripheral.

“Love you too,” Blink and Mush said at the same time and the hugs tightened.

The pain remained but with it came a surge of warmth. At the end of it all, he had so much, memories, friendship, love. How dull his life would be without them.

Thinking back to the beginning of the school year, Race knew he and Spot had been given a glimpse and Race only hoped they had lived it out as it should have been.

~

Sighing, Race adjusted his backpack on his shoulders as he trudged up the stairs.

His steps were heavy, mind weighing him down. Collapsing on the stairs didn’t seem like such a bad idea, but there were other students behind him and Race didn’t need the extra hassle.

He missed Spot.

All he had to do was throw everything to the wind, go against Spot’s words, but then he remembered. The shine in Spot’s eyes, the haunting whispers that had left his mouth, he had asked the world of Race.

Swallowing, Race pushed down the tears that threatened to come and forced himself to the mailroom, his last stop for the day. He gave the worker his name and tapped the counter, aching for the numbness of sleep.

When a small package was set in front of him, Race blinked, his hands hesitant until he saw the return address. Without another word, Race ran from the mailroom, his heart jumping in his chest.

Once in his room, Race threw his backpack to the side and tore at the wrapping, his hands trailing along a familiar item. His breath caught in his throat and he turned the journal over, seeing a small note taped to the back.

Mikey said to wrap this up in case the post office didn’t accept a book by itself. Whatever.

Race laughed a little at this as he held onto the finished journal, the pages thick and worn as if Spot had it for years. He flipped through the pages at first and then opened the journal at random intervals to see what Spot had done.

Somehow Spot had managed to find dirt to rub on a page, his poked holes accidentally tore another page in half, and Race could only imagine Spot’s fight with Mush to stick the journal in the shower.

A small smile had sprouted on Race’s face, but it paused as he saw other pages. His name - Antonio - written over and over on two pages, some scratched heavily, others written in Spot’s best handwriting. Never in his life did he imagine his name as something beautiful. Not until he saw how Spot wrote it.

The first of his tears came as he turned a page to Spot’s anger. His words stabbed the paper, mixed with erratic cross-hatching. Race could barely make out phrases but there were just enough. Just the few.

Fuck this. Screw you. GO AWAY. I don’t want to die.

Race snapped the journal shut, a sob tearing itself from his body as he sank to the floor. Now more than ever, he hated himself for leaving Spot alone. Promises weren’t made to be broken, but maybe this one with Spot had to be.

Wiping his tears away, Race checked the time. It wouldn’t be too late and even if Spot would be angry, Race couldn’t let this be their last. Pulling himself back up to his feet, Race’s fingers caught within the pages of the journal, his eye catching a flash of yellow. Unable to help himself, Race turned to the page, his heart stuttering for a moment.

There was a picture of him pasted on the page - an old one from high school that Mush must have given to Spot - along with several bullet points as Spot recounted their past year together. As mundane as some of Race’s actions felt to himself, Spot saw them as so much more. Acts of love and kindness, moments that made him smile when Race thought he had done nothing more than anger Spot. On the other side of the page, there was a sticky note and Race took a deep breath in as he read.

I know you’ll see this, Race. That’s why I have to ask you again. Please don’t come visit me. We’ve made so many memories together, let’s just stay where those are.

I love you.

The tears stung again and Race felt nothing beyond the tightness in his chest. He didn’t know what to do, his heart and brain pulling him separate ways. Tugging out his phone, Race typed out a text to Mush, his resolve crumbling with every word.

At the very least, he had to know how Spot was today. He’d do what Spot asked, he’d keep himself distracted, but only if it meant that Spot would see this through to the end.

[picficskpopstyle]

Immoral (Part 3)

Part 1  Part 2

A/N: So... this was meant to be the beginning of the smut in this series. It ended up being over 2,000 words before I even got to the setup for the smut. SO, lol, I’ll just start part 4 with smut. Don’t kill me. You guys like when there is an actual storyline though..

Request for this scenario:

 Can i request a priest Yoongi smut??

Group: BTS

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Smut Series

“I know most of you are in school or working so I don’t want this to be long. Maybe an hour or two? Is that fine?” Yoongi started.

Amanda poked her chest out a little more and cleared her throat.

“That is perfect” she basically moaned. Jimin laughed at your facial expression and that forced you to smile. You were not one of those people that could easily hide their emotions. Every thought that you had showed up on your face. Right now, you were completely weirded out.

Amanda was basically what your mother feared you’d be without the church. Just...constant, unapologetic sex. You were fine with that. What scared you: that look of desperation and need that was plastered on her face. The term, “throwing herself at him”, didn’t begin to describe this.

“Uh, great. What’s your name again?” Yoongi asked, looking down at her.

“Amanda” she grinned, ears reddening.

“Say what you want. At least he’ll remember her name now” Hobi commented.

“Great. Alright. I’m sure you guys have a ton of questions so just-” Yoongi started. He reached down into his satchel and pulled out a handful of pens. He passed the stack to the girl on his right side and she passed them down after taking one.

“-just write down two questions and I’ll answer them. It can be anything but...try to have some decency, please?” he smiled. He passed some papers around and waited until everyone had their materials.

“I know that I’m probably not what you think of when you think of a minister. So...if you have any questions, just...” he made a writing motion and you smiled. Cute.

He let a few minutes go by, giving everyone enough time to write their questions. Being that you were directly in front of him, you would’ve been the fourth person to go. You decided to wait until you heard the other’s questions before writing any down. Yoongi looked up and made eye contact with you. He smiled and darted his eye toward Amanda. He looked back at you and raised his eyebrow.

You grinned and subtly shrugged your shoulders. He made another expression that you couldn’t quite understand before clearing his throat.

“Ready?” he asked.

He nudged the girl on his right, Jay, and she blushed noticeably.

“How old are you?” she asked, voice almost a whisper.

Seeing how nervous she was, Yoongi put his arm around her and leaned toward her. He put his hand out and she passed her paper to him. He squeezed her arm and she relaxed just a bit.

“She asked, ‘How old are you?’. Wow, nice handwriting-” he complimented.

Hobi leaned over your lap to look at Jimin.

“I want to change our bet” he whispered. Jimin raised an eyebrow and leaned over. You looked at the two boys who were basically using your lap as a table.

“Um?” you complained.

“Calm down, ___. I’m betting on you” Jimin commented. You looked at him incredulously and they went back to talking.

“I think he will but I don’t think ___ will get him first. Double or nothing?” Hobi suggested. Jimin shrugged before shaking his hand. They both sat up and you shook your head. Ridiculous.

“I am 24 and yes, Yoongi is my first name. I just prefer ‘Minister Yoongi’ over ‘Minister Min’. Doesn’t that sound better?” he asked. Passing the paper back to Jay, Yoongi then pointed to Amanda. She smiled happily before looking at her paper. Rattling off her first question, many people in the circle raised their hands, signifying that they had similar questions.

Yoongi answered a few more questions, letting people raise their hands to ask rather than going around in the circle. They’d asked the basic questions:

“Are you dating anyone?”

“How long have you been a minister?”

“Do you like being a minister?”

He’d answered easily, telling them that he’d been single almost as long as he’d been a minister-- which was about two years.

“You’ve been single for two years?” Jimin asked suddenly.

“Uh, I haven’t been in a relationship in about two years. Yes” Yoongi answered. Your ears perked up at the odd way he’d answered and apparently, so did everyone else’s.

“What does that mean, Minister Yoongi?” Hobi pressed. Yoongi licked his lips and smiled.

Was he blushing?

“You know what it means. I’ve had...partners, ya know?” he responded. For a second, you wondered if your eyes had popped out of their sockets. This guy was...definitely interesting.

“Partnerssss? PartnerSSS?” Jimin asked dramatically.

“Plural?” Amanda chimed in.

Yoongi just nodded and you took in the response of the group. Everybody seemed either ridiculously shocked or highly amused. There was no in between.

Yoongi took a look around the room and laughed to himself.

“Alright, I think this would probably be the perfect time for ___’s question” he suggested, motioning toward you. For a moment, you just stared at him, wondering what in the world he was talking about. But then, it dawned on you:

“What exactly is a minister to you?” you asked, remembering his little comment from earlier. Apparently all of you had ‘little minds’ and you didn’t know what a minister was.

“Thank you. ___” he said, pausing. He grinned in your direction and you subconsciously bit your lip. Why did he look at you like that?

“I’ll answer this and then we’ll wrap it up, alright?-” he began, looking at everyone.

“A minister is basically someone who serves. It doesn’t have to be a stuffy, old, middle-aged, strict, stick-up-his-butt...guy, okay? My only purpose is to be there for you guys and to lead you in the right direction. I’m not going to be pushy and constantly yelling at you. At the end of the day, all of us are adults here. We all make choices: good or bad. I just want to help you make better choices” Yoongi explained. It was quiet for a moment as everybody digested his words. That was completely different from every other religious leader in this church. The rest of them were judgmental and stuck up. They were always in your business. Hell, your mom did that and she wasn’t even a leader.

“I like that. A lot” Jimin said honestly. Everyone else seemed to agree.

The circle was essentially full of people who’d been judged their entire lives. It was that judgment that led most of them to drink and party anytime they had their leashes off.

“Great. I don’t want you guys to be guarded around me. I want us to be able to talk about everything without it being weird or awkward” Yoongi said hopefully.

He stood up and motioned for everyone else to stand. Of course he’d have to pray out. After all, this was still a church function.

As Yoongi prayed over the session, you couldn’t help but to sneak a peek at his face. You knew that he would be interesting from the moment that you first saw him. He was refreshing, to say the least. He gave you a reason to actually be interested in coming to church.

“Amen” he ended. You released Jimin and Hobi’s hands before stretching.

“This guy is amazing. Where did they find him?” Hobi asked.

“More importantly: how do we keep him around? He needs to be here long enough to get close to ___” Jimin smiled. You rolled your eyes and pushed him, telling him to “shut up”.

“What? Shouldn’t you be proud of me? I’m not being weirdly jealous about him smiling at you during the whole session” he said, putting his arm around your shoulder. You sighed and shook your head. He was actually right.

“In a weird way, I am proud of you” you smiled. He went quiet for a second and Hobi took over the conversation.

“So very proud. Let’s get going, I want to iron out the details of this bet” he said, grabbing Jimin’s arm. The two of them made their way out of the church, blowing a few ‘goodbyes’ your way. Just like them, the group began clearing out and you moved to fold the chairs.

“I’m just so glad you’re here. All the other leaders here are so old and stuffy-” Amanda was saying. You rolled your eyes, wondering how long she was going to kiss up to him.

“-when is our next rap session?” she asked. You kept your back to them as you folded up chair after chair.

“Uh, next week. I have a few topics in mind but I don’t want to ruin the surprise” he said dismissively.

“Oh, nice. Do I… need to bring anything" she asked.

“Nope, just make it in" he answered. This time, she seemed to pick up his tone: basically shooing her away.

“Yeah, well, I can’t wait. I’ll see you Sunday!” Amanda said, as she inched her way to the door. As soon as she was gone, Yoongi groaned and you looked over at him. He smiled and motioned his arms toward Amanda’s exit.

“She is…” Yoongi trailed off. You smiled and took a seat in one of the few chairs that were still set up.

“Too much? Begging for it? Giving it to you on a solid gold platter?” you finished for him. Yoongi just shook his head and looked back at the doors. It was almost as if he was afraid she would come back.

“I have never been in that position before. She was basically shoving her tits in my face. Did you see that?” he asked.

“She’s a pretty girl, ya know? Most guys would kill for that" you said. Yoongi took the seat next to you and slouched down in his seat a bit.

“That is a turnoff for me. I don't want it too easy. If a guy was eager to do whatever you wanted, when you wanted it, how you wanted it; would you really be interested in him?” he asked.

If a guy did absolutely anything to please you? That’d be pretty cool. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger. He would make you happy… But would you want to date him? You’d want to reward him but that would be more like having a pet.

You continued thinking about it and Yoongi laughed.

“Exactly. You have to have some sort of conflict in any relationship that you have” he said.

“Even with your, uh, how did you put it? Your partners?” you laughed.

“Oh God. Not you too” he groaned.

You laughed again and he just smiled at you. After a second, Yoongi looked away.

“So, apart from me fueling Amanda’s wet dreams and talking way too much about my sex life: how did I do? Was the rap session okay? Did it seem like I was putting everybody to sleep?” he asked.

“No, no. It was really cool. Even my two idiots seemed to be interested” you smiled. Yoongi scratched his forehead and sat up a little.

“Yeah, I noticed them. The three of you seem very...close...” he hinted.

“You’re fishing. What are you trying to ask me?” you guided. Yoongi smiled boyishly and shrugged his left shoulder.

“I’m not fishing. It was just nice to see you so close to your-- friends..?” he finished with a grin. You laughed and he opened his arms questioningly.

“What? Why are you laughing now?” he chuckled.

“That was not subtle at all! You were definitely fishing-”

“What are you talking about? That was probably the most subtle thing I’ve ever done in my life” he responded. Your eyes widened and you just shook your head. If that was subtle in his world, then he must be a ridiculously blunt man.

“Well, the answer to your question is: yes. They are just my friends. I had a thing with Jimin but that’s been over for a while now” you answered. Yoongi took in your answer. Actually, with his extended silence, Yoongi seemed to really take in your answer. Before you could speak, however, he geared up to talk. He shifted in his seat and scratched behind his ear.

“Why’d you...end it? If you don’t mind me asking, of course” he asked quickly.

“Uh, Jimin is a very...jealous guy. Or at least he was-”

“That doesn’t sound good for me at all” he said, absentmindedly.

“For you?-”

Was he flirting with you or was that actually a slip up?

“Well, you know-- uh...we’re probably going to be really close. You know, with your mom volunteering you for everything and stuff” he stammered. You held in a laugh. So he really did slip up. It was nice to know that he was attracted to you too.

“Nice save” you smiled. Before you could catch him blushing, Yoongi cleared his throat and stood up. He said something about putting the chairs up and began folding them. Still wanting to tease him, you stood up and helped fold the last few chairs.

“Partners~” you breathed loud enough for him to hear.

“Oh my God...”  he groaned. You laughed and he just smiled as he stacked the chairs against the wall.

“A minister can have fun too, ya know?” he answered.

“Oh, it was fun too, huh?” you taunted.

“Are you done?” he asked, amused. You shrugged and he sighed, getting back to cleaning.

“Those poor, defenseless church girls-”

“I rarely date church girls, thank you very much” he said snarkily. Your eyebrows shot up and he immediately regretted his words. Whoa.

“Wow, that is unexpected. Have something against church girls-”

“Oh, no, of course not. Most of the time they’re the most-- fun” he smirked. You paused.

This whole conversation had been weirdly light and playful. Even though you really didn’t know Yoongi that well, your flirty conversation just felt easy and natural. It was almost as if you were already good friends with him.

That smirk brought you back to reality though. It reminded you that he was a hot stranger that seemed to have some sort of interest in you. With that realization, you suddenly felt flustered and your words left you.

“Probably because they’re so used to being prim and proper for the world. So, when they get behind closed doors, they get a little wild” Yoongi stated. Noticing your silence, he glanced over at you. He’d wondered if he really should be talking about this stuff so easily. On one hand, he wanted to get close to everyone. He wanted to be their go-to guy when they had any problems. Even if the problem was sex related or anything taboo, Yoongi wanted everyone-- including you- to be comfortable with coming to him.

On the other hand, he was still supposed to be some sort of authority figure. Where did he have to draw the line? There obviously had to be one. So far, he’d kind of established himself as a friend with the group. Well, with you, he seemed to be a little more on the flirty side.

The two of you finished cleaning up and grabbed your things. While the conversation had cooled off, neither one of you were uncomfortable.

“So.. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow” Yoongi said as you walked to the door together.

“You will?” you asked, confused.

“You’re basically my little helper, you can’t abandon me now” he grinned.

“I have to work tomorrow. Can we do… whatever I’m supposed to help with- the next day?” you asked. Yoongi frowned.

“They’re having some sort of banquet dinner for me” he sighed.

“Well, just come over tonight then” you offered.

Yoongi thought it over for a second before shrugging.

“Sounds good to me. We’ll be planning for the next rap session” he explained. You nodded slowly, your mind set back on the fact that you’d just invited him to your dorm. Your all-girl dorm. You’d basically have to sneak him in. What was your life turning into?

You were going to sneak your youth minister into your dorm room? You were probably the tamest college kid you’d ever heard of. At least he was hot.

“See you tonight then. I’ll have to sneak you in” you smiled. Yoongi gave you a concerned look. You patted his shoulder and walked out of the church, leaving him to stare behind you.

“Sneak in?”

“See you tonight!” you called behind you.

Part 4

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