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that-gt-and-vore-stuffs · 3 years

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Desires and Daydreams

Me: oh yeah I’ll have this edited and out by tomorrow morning! Also Me: Ha! Sike! Time fo post at night again :)

All in all I’m so sorry this took so long for me to get out. A busy week with ball fucked me over time and energy wise. However, I now have a full 7k word fic for y’all so that’s good! I quite literally just finished editing this so I hope it’s as good as my mind told me it was about two minutes ago. Especially considering it’s a little gift of sorts for the amazing @doodlevore (AKA I saw this gem of a drawing, flipped out for a hot minute, and then decided it was writing time) Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy and I hope I did your artwork justice Doodle :)

As always, Vore under the cut :)

“Aw c’mon Doc!” the man halfheartedly whined as he attempted again to grab the small ‘medic’. Once more 2b had ducked under his hand, glaring up at him through his goggles. The taller of the two just laughed at the sight, near daggers of teeth glimmering through his toothy grin. No way in hell could he take that glare seriously like this. “You act like I was planning to hurt you. You really think I’m gonna hurt ya?”

“No,” 2b started, halting his words momentarily to dodge another attempted swipe at him. Getting caught by the man wouldn’t be the worst thing, sure - hell, he could name several things automatically worse than being grabbed by him in this hellscape of Nevada - however that did not mean that he wanted to be scooped up like some doll and put through whatever his teammate had in mind for him and the other two who were both currently busy dodging the taller’s other hand. Again his glare settled on the younger hacker. “But that does not mean I’m going to keel over and let you do whatever, Deimos. Now would you stop trying to grab us for five minutes!”

“But what’s the fun in that?” Deimos protested, swiping at Hank only for the shrunken mercenary to vault themself over his hand. Go figure, he was still going to be difficult. Hell, they all were. When he was the smallest of the group he was at their mercy and even went with it half the time, but the moment he got to have some fun they all decided to be as difficult as possible. In all honesty it wasn’t as bad as he was making it seem. Watching them run around like little mice was pretty entertaining. That didn’t mean he didn’t have plans he wanted to follow through with though! Whatever, he’d play their games for now. He’d get them eventually, and when he did he’d have his fun. “I’d stop if you all would just stand still for five seconds, but no. You all clearly wanna play so I’m gonna keep up the cat and mouse game we’ve got going.”

“But that- Deimos, you aren’t getting my point here at all!” 2b yelled up at the man, ducking under yet another swipe at him made by the youngest of their little crew. He was fairly certain it was impossible to miss what he was saying so either Deimos was less intelligent then he had grown to suspect over the years or he was flat out ignoring the man’s request to quit trying to grab them. A brief comparison of the two had crossed out the former option rather quickly. That cocky, smoking son of a gun. “Sanford! A little help?”

“Why me?” The Chad of a man yelled back as he scrambled to his feet after having to get down to avoid being grabbed. In the back of his mind he already had a sneaking suspicion as to why he was asked. He wasn’t stupid after all.

“He usually listens to you better than me!” The older hacker shot back, nearly running into Hank as he prepared himself for the next ‘attack’.

“So we’re playing that card now. Good to know.” Sanford grumbled softly, no real venom in his tone. 2b was right, at least in most contexts. He probably was the closest to Deimos out of them all and the other two’s usual intimidating approach to get Deimos to listen really wouldn’t work with them the size of the man’s hand. A sigh tugged itself from his throat as he directed his words up at the seemingly giant hacker. “Dei, c’mon now. Can’t you quit with the whole trying to grab us thing? It’s- AH!- not all that fun!”

“Damnit.” Deimos cursed under his breath, having missed Sanford yet again. Who knew trying to just grab his teammates would be so difficult. It was definitely fun, this little game of cat and mouse like in those old cartoons he’d managed to pirate, but it was still harder than he expected to actually grab them. Guess not everything gets to come easy. Or maybe he was going too easy… “Maybe not for you. Just stand still and make it easier on yourself if you’re having such a bad time.”

“That’s- Dei, you chucklehead, quit the games already and stop trying to grab us like rodents!”

Deimos just shook his head, a low laugh rumbling in his chest. His grin still stood proud on his face in all its sharp toothed glory. This was too much fun to give up so easily. Really, they expected him to quit the moment he started having fun? Please. He’d gone through too much to waste his opportunity. Getting his hands on shrinking tech had to be the best thing that’s ever happened to him, despite the difficulties and hurdles he had to jump to do such a thing. What had been a normal, boring day with no missions had turned into him watching his three shrunken teammates dash across the worn table while dodging his attempts to grab them. He was going to enjoy this, whether they liked it or not. Call this revenge for all the times he was teased for being the smallest out of all of them, or call it him being an ass. He didn’t care. For once the younger hacker wasn’t the small one in the group and boy did he have plans for it. Oh he had plans…

“Mmm…how ‘bout no.” Deimos hummed, slamming a hand down on the table next to 2b. Just as he’d hoped the man tensed, trying to keep himself steady on the shaking table. His eyes locked onto the temporarily paralyzed unofficial medic like a hawk’s to its prey, smirk morphing into a full on grin. Without hesitation he grabbed the man in a firm fist. There was one of the three. “Ha! Gotcha Doc~!”

“Mmgh- I can see that, Deimos. Now put me down!” 2BDamned didn’t shout at his teammates often. There were a few times he did, yes. Prime examples of such times included (but weren’t limited to) tracking blood all over the base, doing something absolutely reckless and facing the consequences, not following the plans they had for missions, etc. Not once had he expected to ever be yelling at one of them, specifically the smallest of their team, to put him down. Hank? Maybe. Sanford? Long shot but not impossible. Deimos? No. And yet here he was, trapped within the grasp of the younger hacker with seemingly no way to escape. It’s not like the little wiggling that his loose enough to be breathable yet tight confines could do was helping much.

“But what if I don’t wanna, Doc?” Deimos hummed, resting his other hand on the table for the first time in the past twenty-five minutes that he’d been trying to grab the others. “What if I wanna keep you trapped in my fist for the rest of the day huh? Maybe longer. It’s not like you can exactly free yourself, now can you? Huh? You gonna wiggle yourself out of my hand, 2b? Claw your way out like some baby kitten?”

“I swear to Jebus, once we’re back to normal I am going to kill you myself.” The dissenter growled, trying again to free himself from his confines. He could only imagine how utterly idiotic he looked, wiggling around like some fish out of water in Deimos’s hand. Talk about humiliating.

“Sure you will. Sure.” Deimos rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he thought through his next moves. He could just grab the other two and get on with his plans but…oh that ruined the fun of the chase! His plans and stomach could wait, he wanted to enjoy this just a little longer. Now what could he do to achieve such a thing? “And besides, that’s an ‘if’ to you, Doc. If you get back to normal. Can’t do that without my help after all, so maybe you should let me have my fun~”

“I will. Don’t think I- wait. What?” Well now that wasn’t something anyone stuck at four inches tall wanted to hear. Yes, he could probably figure out how the hell Deimos shrunk him (assuming that the hacker had gotten the information and technology from the AAHW) however Deimos had at least a bit of a point. Things would be so much easier, faster, and less dangerous if he just reversed whatever the hell he did. He….he fucking planned this. He- oh the younger hacker was in some deep shit once they were back and he was the smallest again.

“Mmm you heard me, 2b. Getting you three back requires the help of me, unless you’d rather be crushed under the boot of some agent trying to get back to normal yourselves.” Deimos hummed, his words practically swimming in cockiness. “And I don’t think any of us want that. So either you let me have my fun, or you three get to stay pocket sized until you do.”

“Deimos, don’t you even think about it.” Hank growled, eyes narrowing behind his goggles as he stepped closer to the hacker. Being this small was bad enough. It wasn’t like a MAG agent where they weren’t completely dwarfed in size. No. He was stuck the size of a fucking mouse being toyed with by their basically gigantic teammate. And to top it all off the threat of being stuck at this size now loomed over the mercenary’s head. Just fucking wonderful.

“Aw but what if I did, Hank?” The hacker asked with a raise of his eyebrow, turning his attention from the medic in his fist to the shrunken killing machine that was now glaring at him over his arm. It really was something else to see them so tiny when they usually towered over everyone. How the tables turn. “I would think this is a nice situation for you. So long as you’re hidden it’s not like the Agency could find you now. No ones gonna look for a four inch tall Hank, now are they- Hey! Sanford!”

The mentioned man’s head lifted from where he had landed on the table, 2b now laying next to him after a less than graceful ‘rescue’ from the younger hacker’s hand. His feet scrambled against the old table, attempting to gain enough traction to allow for him to stand. For a moment he looked as if he were trying to stand on ice, feet slipping out from beneath him. The doctor beside him wasn’t doing much better in the department of getting to his feet. Judging by the disappointed stare he felt burning two holes into his chest once he finally got to his feet, Hank wasn’t all that impressed with their sudden lack of coordination either. Wait, no. Hank could come later. Right now he had to deal with the giant Deimos that was currently pouting at him.

“Sorry Dei, but I’m siding with Doc here. Just put us back to normal before Hank decides to find a way to kill you at this size.” As Sanford spoke a tone far less confident then he had hoped for laced his words. Something that probably doomed him to not be listened to. Judging by the new level of cocky smeared across the hacker’s face? He was right too. Well shit. That didn’t help anything.

“Hmm…maybe but, and hear me out, I’ve got a better idea.” No one had to ask exactly what Deimos’ ‘better idea’ was. He was all too happy to demonstrate it, Hank quickly finding himself laying flat against the table with the hacker’s hand pinning him in place. The small shocked grunt from the mercenary didn’t go unnoticed by the other two, their eyes darting to their now trapped teammate. Both failed to notice the brief warning look in Hank’s eyes behind his goggles until it was too late, a warm calloused hand pinning them to the rough grain of the wood. Well, there went the idea of escape.

A sharp laugh chased away the silence that had previously filled the air. Beneath the rim of his visor two eyes simply watched as the three small forms writhed beneath his hands. Proof of the point he had been trying to prove. The point that his three shrunken teammates had wanted to be false. No way to escape now. Not unless he allowed for it, that is. A small lightbulb lit up in his head at the thought. The idea was tempting, were he to be completely honest with himself. Give his friends hope only to crush it like a spent cig under his boot once more by trapping them in a new way. Oh but then there was the option of dangling freedom just in front of them. That was an idea…and there were so many more possibilities too. In the back of his head a small voice attempted to grab Deimos’ attention. Yelling at him in every way it could think of that even thinking about doing that to his friends was wrong, even if it was playful at its roots. He shouldn’t do such a thing to them! Though, thinking logically, there was no way they wouldn’t do the same or something similar were their positions switched. Deimos knew that much, being the shortest of their gang. A soft scoff sounded from his throat, mind made up on the matter. Unfortunately for the three pinned to the table, in the end the voice of reason was all too easily ignored by the younger hacker as he adjusted to lean forward in his chair. The smell of cigarette smoke grew in strength with each hum that passed the man’s lips, the three pinned beneath his hands only able to watch as things seemed to get worse for them.

“Heh. Much better.” Deimos said with a smile, gladly ignoring the glares he was now getting from his little friends. “Now what shall I do with you-“

Ggnnnrrrr……

“-three….”

Anyone with half a mind would think that after being interrupted by your stomach you would be embarrassed and most likely apologize. The three shrunken men on the table thought that after being interrupted by his stomach Deimos would be embarrassed and probably laugh it off. Maybe even give them a chance to run without thinking. What they didn’t expect was for him to start laughing. A deep chuckle from the back of his throat too, not just an embarrassed little giggle. It was a genuine fucking laugh. First off, why the hell was he laughing? Second, what the hell did that mean for them? After a moment of thought one thing became clear. As much as they didn’t want to admit it, the three knew what the answer to the second question was long before it was even asked. Nothing good. That’s what it meant. Especially not with that dumb grin still sitting on his face. 2b, eyes locked on Deimos’ expression, had opened his mouth to attempt prying an answer out of the younger. Before a single word could leave his lips, however, his world was flipped on its head.

Literally.

For a brief second everything stopped. The warmth and pressure from the hand holding him to the table disappeared, cold washing over him and sending a shiver down his spine. That’s when a new type of pressure appeared. It was still rough and warm, the grip of a calloused hand for sure, but it was much more concentrated than just smashing him to the table. Specifically around his right ankle. His eyes couldn’t go ‘dinner plate wide’ any faster than they did the moment he felt said pressure appear. The less-than-manly scream he had heard beside him roughly half a second earlier started to make a lot more sense by the millisecond. Especially once he was dragged backwards and up, a very similar noise escaping himself. For a brief moment everything spun before his sight leveled out. What he didn’t want to see was Deimos grinning at him. Upside down.

“Annnd there we go. Sanford, Hank, I hope you guys still have a good grip at this size~.” The hacker jabbed, grinning at the little chain his friends had formed once he started picking them up. Pinched between his thumb, pointer, and middle finger was Hank’s torso. They were currently holding onto Sanford’s ankle, looking less than pleased with the situation they were in. Sanford was gripping onto the ankle of 2BDamned as he dangled, worry painting over his features. Then there was 2b, dangling at the end of the chain upside down with a look quite similar to Hank’s plastered on his face. All in all, quite the interesting little chain they made up as he leaned back in the chair.

“Damn straight. You two drop me and you’re dead.” The ‘medic’ grumbled, all too willing to make his displeasure known.

“Aw, don’t you worry, Doc. If they drop you I’ll make sure you have a nice, soft, warm landing~”

“Well I’m sorry I don’t want to be dropped on my hea- Deimos, what the genuine fuck does that mean?” He shouldn’t have asked. The moment after the words left his mouth 2b knew he never should have asked what the younger hacker had meant with his words. Dangling over the man’s lap having to stare him in the face while upside down wasn’t ideal. Absolutely not. However, he found much preferred it to dangling inches above Deimos’ open jaws, the smell of cigarette smoke laced breath hitting him almost as hard as the realization of just how sharp the man’s teeth were. He supposed he never noticed with Dei a. rarely ever purposely showing them off, and b. him being smaller than the older hacker. That didn’t stop him from mentally smacking himself upside the head for not taking more notes of it sooner though. Especially when he was getting so…up close and personal with them now. Fuck he was close to those daggers.

“Dei- Dei, think about this!” Sanford shouted as he stared down at the sight of the man’s open mouth, praying that his friend would listen to at least some reason. Sure, they gave him shit for being the smallest of the group often. He especially did. Not once though had he, or the other two as far as he knew, expected that said teasing would lead to them possibly having to spend the day trapped in said hacker’s gut though. If they had, they would have backed off a little. But now the threat was more present than ever. And knowing Deimos? It might be longer than a day too. He wouldn’t put it past the man at all. Jebus Christ….

“Oh I have San. We’re past that point now.” Deimos hummed, his tongue lazily snaking itself over his lips as he glanced over the string of teammates that dangled from his hand. Slowly his stare became distant, his mind beginning to wander. Just how would each of them taste exactly? Would they all taste the same? But what if they each tasted different? Now wouldn’t that be something. Perhaps he wasn’t too far off picturing Sanford as a juicy sausage in his little moments to himself. Oh that would be perfect. The warm feeling of drool trailed itself lazily down his chin, each thought regarding the possible tastes of his friends encouraging an empty rumble from his midsection. He just had to find out now.

“Deimos, lower me any further and I’ll make sure you choke to death.” The man only laughed, eyes fluttering shut as he opened his mouth once more.

“Sorry Doc. ‘S too late to stop now.” Any screams of protest from his teammates fell on deaf ears as Deimos lowered the end of the little chain into his mouth. Immediately he was hit with the taste of black coffee, hints of iron, and oddly enough what tasted like whisky poking through and tickling his tongue. The soft, pleased hum escaped him long before he could even think to stop it, his mind far more focused on getting that flavor to coat his tastebuds than his actions or the saliva steadily dripping down his chin.

2BDamned had a different opinion on the matter. Specifically about the claim that it was ‘too late.’ It was not too fucking late. In fact, it was anything but. Deimos’s mouth, which absolutely reeked of cigarettes might he add, was still wide open. He wasn’t slipping down the tight tube he could see in front of him yet. He was being rolled around and licked over like some sort of candy, something which he apparently had to remind Deimos he wasn’t with a smack to the tongue. Sharp teeth surrounded the unofficial doctor on both sides, Sanford’s grip on his ankle still like iron despite the saliva now thoroughly coating his body. Try as he might to push himself out with his hands they only slipped and slid across the wet surface of Deimos’s tongue. Far too similar to how he was steadily slipping backwards.

“Dei…Dei, you can pull us out now…” Sanford yelled up to the man, ducking his head between his arms to avoid the feeling of daggers dragging down his head and neck. Jebus, his teeth really were sharper up close. The white knuckled grip he held on 2b’s ankle refused to budge as he slipped further in, eyes locked into the sight before him. Not once did he ever expect to watch the older hacker slowly disappear down his best friend’s throat with nothing he could do but hold on and pray. Yet here he was. Fuck. “Dei-!!”

“Sanford, don’t even bother at this point.” 2b groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask. Deimos wasn’t going to listen to shit. That much was clear now if it wasn’t an hour and a half ago when they’d woken up in his hands. He didn’t want to admit it, not by a long shot, however as he slid further back there wasn’t any way the dissenter could convince himself otherwise. He, and the other two, were doomed. “He’s not going to-“

Ulp~

“…..listen. God damnit.” What else was he to even expect at this point?

Try as hard as he might, Sanford found he couldn’t grip the unofficial doctor’s ankle any tighter. Not without the possibility of breaking something, considering that he most likely had already passed the ‘try not to bruise the man’ stage. No doubt the clearly handprint shaped black and blue bruise would be there in a day tops. A scolding was nearly cemented in his future now, however Sanford couldn’t find it in himself to complain about it. Compared to the hole Deimos was digging himself, with a smile on his face no less, he’d gladly take the talking to. Speaking of the hacker, either he was genuinely out of it for some reason or he was just trying to be a grade A dick.

“Deimos!! Cut it out, man!” He yelled, trying his hardest to squirm away from the licks and shifting of the man’s tongue. Unfortunately for him, nothing seemed to work. It started at his hands but all too quickly the sensation of a wet tongue dragging itself up, over, and around the pyromaniac’s arms and to his torso. The dark lenses of his signature glasses fogged over with each warm breath that washed over his body. Goosebumps dotted all exposed skin, any fabric quickly becoming drenched with saliva. The sensations slowly crawled their way down Sanford’s body, more of him no longer dangling and instead slipping across the hacker’s tongue by the moment. He watched his hands, and by extension Doc’s feet, slowly slip beyond his vision into the void-like entrance of Deimos’ throat. His arms followed not long after, the darkness enveloping more of his vision by the second. Talk about a way to spend your day.

Glk~

A soft groan rumbled around the shrunken men, the sound’s maker all too lost in his thoughts. Tastes of warm sausage, coffee, and the lingering hints of whisky and iron danced across his tongue. Each lick up the parts of Sanford’s body which remained momentarily in his mouth brought a shiver up through his spine. With each second the small body inched further back, pulling his hand toward his mouth. His fingers and the body pinned between them slipped past the hacker’s lips with ease. Layers of cloth, along with the occasional sensation of scarred skin, pressed against his tongue. The taste of a rare steak and a much stronger metallic hint, again not unlike that of blood but somehow much more pleasant, seemed all too eager to attack his taste buds. His spine seemed to reduce itself to jello in a matter of seconds, relying on the backrest of his chair for support. The smoker pulled his fingers from his mouth with a small pop, jaws shutting around his final shrunken teammate and leaving his mind to ponder over the tastes and sensation attacking his mouth and mind alike.

The word ‘still’ had been completely wiped from Deimos’s dictionary, if it had even been there to begin with. At least that’s what Hank would have told anyone who asked. His eyes had narrowed behind his red tinted goggles and now they seemed to grow thinner with each movement from the muscle beneath him. As if the heat and lingering cigarette smell from the hacker’s breath weren’t enough, the wet feeling of saliva continued to sneak itself into every fiber of his being. First his skin, then lighter clothing items like his bandana and mask, and finally seeping through his coat and multiple other layers of clothing. And just what was a better cherry on top then being rolled around near constantly. Every moment they seemed to find themself in a new position within the confines of the young hacker’s mouth. While their grip remained on Sanford’s ankles, the same could in no way be said for his patience with the man who had caused this hell by shrinking them. He swore, Deimos better enjoy his time being able to hold them like dolls because the moment they were back to normal the man would be getting a firm taste of his own medicine. Whether it be by him serving as lunch or by another form of revenge was yet to be decided. Hank could only plot so much, though. Despite how much more bearable he found thinking about a way to ‘return the favor’ to Deimos to be, he needed to at least show a little of his own irritation to the man. After all, he wasn’t just some snack. They were still Hank J. Wimbledon god damn it, and they’d prove it if they had to. How he would do that remained a mystery for what felt like hours of constant licking and flipping…until said proof came. It came in the form of a kick to the inside of Deimos’ teeth. A kick which sent him sliding backwards-

Ulk-

Glp~

And the oddly shaped lump in Deimos’ throat disappearing behind his collarbone.

Deimos’ eyes had widened in shock, a hand quickly pressing itself to his throat as it happened. In his opinion, it happened too quickly. All too fast the warm weight disappeared from his mouth, pushing itself backwards with force into his throat. Far too soon did he lose the previously vivid taste of barely cooked meat and metal, leaving him with only the memory and lingering fragments of it like the other two tastes. Too quickly had the lump in his throat been pushed down by two final swallows, disappearing down behind his collarbone. For a moment he sat there in silence, the room lacking sound except for his heavy breathing. With each rise and fall of his chest he waited. Waited for the one thing that couldn’t seem to come fast enough. Moments passed with nothing before the feeling he’d been waiting for rushed his senses. A filling warmth pooled itself in his stomach, moving around against the walls of the organ and pulling a warm chuckle from the man. His hand trailed to rest over his stomach, feeling the small bodies shift and fight beneath layers of clothing, muscle, and skin. Fangs glimmering in a grin once again as he poked at the squirming fullness in his gut.

“Well look at that.” He laughed to himself, relaxing back into his chair. His stomach gurgled under his hand, what he guessed to be a thank you of sorts now that he had what he wanted within it. Though something told him the others wouldn’t be thanking him all that much. “How are you three holding up in there?”

“Deimos, do not laugh at us or so help me Jebus- Hank, get your arm out of my face!” The words were quickly followed by what Deimos could assume was 2b pushing Hank off him and into his stomach wall from what he could feel. Those three couldn’t seem to stay still. Well, he couldn’t truly blame them if he wanted to. It had to be slippery, trapped in a wet, moving organ like his stomach and all. The mental image of his three teammates slipping around in his stomach, trying their hardest to gain footing or at least a comfortable position, drew another laugh from him. This was great.

“Dei, c’mon.” Sanford added, giving his own kick to the wall in case he had failed to grab the hacker’s attention before. Try as he might to stay out of 2BDamned and Hank’s little squabble fate seemed to have other plans as he was shoved back into them every time he got away. Or maybe that was just Deimos being Deimos. “You’ve had your fun, now spit us out you chucklehead.”

“Mmm yeah no.” Deimos hummed, drumming his fingers mindlessly on his belly as he took in the little shocks that each harsh kick or punch sent through his body to his brain. Each movement registered in his brain as a pleasurable little shock, but the harsher they were the more enjoyment they seemed to cause him. Not that he was complaining. Last he checked his teammates could tire themselves out with squirming all they wanted to if it felt this nice. “See, that’s not really the plan here. Not for a few hours at least.”

“What now?” Sanford’s voice had dropped its hopeful tone, now more monotonous and serious. Beside him he heard a growl, one he assumed to be from Hank. Was the smoker trying to get them killed? Again he punched the wall. “Dei, quit joking.”

“I ain’t joking, ‘Ford.” The young hacker replied bluntly, his shit eating grin more than audible in his words. A long, over dramatic sigh made its way from his mouth with ease as he adjusted his position to one more comfortable. Or at least as comfortable as one could get in an old chair. Smiling to himself he gave his stomach a little shove, feeling the three bodies inside shift and move under the pressure. “I just wanna sit and enjoy this for a while. It feels too nice to just give up.”

Silence fell upon the three currently held within the confines of the man’s stomach, each sitting there taking in Deimos’ words until the pressure from outside had lifted. Once it did, they all reacted their own way. Hank, for example, sat still for about ten seconds tops before a punch was thrown at the wall. Sanford, on the other hand, debated whether Hank’s approach or his attempts at reasoning with their ‘captor’ would be more effective at getting Deimos to spit them up. Then there was 2BDamned, who sat in what would’ve been an unnerving silence had they not known him. Knowing him, though, changed the meaning of the silence from ‘is this man insane to be so calm?’ to ‘Deimos just dug himself a grave’ in a split second.

“Deimos,” The unofficial medic started, “you have ten seconds to at least start spitting us up or I will force myself back up your throat simply to beat your ass.” Despite the warmth of their current confines, a chill shot up Sanford’s back. As far as he knew, the last thing you wanted to be was at the end of Doc’s threats. The man often had little to no issue going through with them, and Deimos wasn’t some special case. The laughter they heard (and felt shaking their ‘cell’ for that matter) was all it took to solidify that Deimos didn’t take them seriously at this size. Guess said threats don’t work when you’re four inches tall at best and your ‘captor’ is a smug ass bastard.

“Ha! I’d like to see you try, Doc.” Deimos chuckled, giving his stomach a firm pat which only seemed to serve to jostle around its captives more. “I might not be able to handle spice like San’ but I do know my way around feisty snacks~.”

“We aren’t food, Deimos.” Hank growled, kicking the floor beneath him. The flesh sunk under his boot, a sickening squishing sound heard as a result. A small shiver trembled up the walls, one which failed to register with the black-clad mercenary as in pain. Oh just wonderful. The sharp toothed asshole was enjoying this.

“Mmm you sure, big guy? Cause you seem like food to me right now.” Within only a few seconds of the words leaving his lips the hacker found himself met with a pleasant shockwave up the spine. Clearly a certain black-clad mercenary didn't like being called food, if the fighting he felt wash over him like a tsunami of warm, fuzzy electricity meant anything. A soft groan crawled out of his lips, his hand lazily tracing circles over his stomach. ”mm oh c-calm down in there. I didn’t mean it. I will let you out, Jeez.”

“Deimos, this isn’t funny. Spit us out.” 2b snapped, kicking the floor.

“Mmm sorry, Doc. Can't hear you heheh…” the hacker spoke, words blurring softly as he melted back into the chair.

“I’m serious!” The words fell on deaf ears.

“Dei, c’mon…” Sanford this time. His eyes drifted softly shut.

“Dei…” His grin turned into a simple smirk.

“Dei…” Didn't he get he wasn’t spitting them out yet?

“Deimos…” Oh full names now. How fancy.

“Deimos..?” Wait…that didn’t sound right.

“Deimos.” Was he losing it?

…

“DEIMOS!”

The hacker jumped, blinking rapidly as his eyes darted around. What was going on? Where were they? Who did he need to kill? Where were the others? Thoughts rushed through his head as wide eyes darted around everything in sight, looking for something they recognized. Anything to show him where he was or what was going on. Relief came to him in the form of Sanford standing in front of him, a hand on his shoulder as if he was trying to get his attention. Most importantly though they were in their base. Safe. No one was here. They weren’t under attack. He was just daydreaming. Sanford and the others were here and he was just…daydreaming- oh damn it. Go figure it was too good to be true. A groan, this time annoyed, rang from Deimos’ throat.

“Jebus- Dude, are you alright?” Sanford asked, eyebrows knit with worry and…an emotion Deimos found himself unable to name. Like he’d seen something. Something…weird. Almost like concern but not at the same time. For a brief moment an idea reared its head, only to be smashed down like a weird game of whack-a-mole within the hacker’s mind. There wasn’t any need for such an absurd idea. It’s not like Sanford could have seen his little daydream. Nope, that was safe in his head. The smoker shook his head to clear it, quickly flashing Sanford a sharp toothed grin.

“Yeah man. Just zonin’ out and daydreaming a little ‘s all. Nothing to worry about here heheh,” he laughed, clapping his friend on the shoulder playfully. His eyes scanned the man’s face again, trying to see if his statement had done its job. Although the worry had dropped from Sanford’s face, the other emotion remained. Now what on earth was that for?

“Daydreamin’ huh? ‘Bout what?” The pyromaniac asked, raising an eyebrow. His eyes flicked from Deimos’ eyes to his mouth, then back again as he spoke. He didn’t seem to not believe Deimos when he said he was daydreaming, so what on earth was that look for? And why was he looking at his mouth so much? Giving into the call of curiosity the sharp-toothed hacker brought a hand up to his mouth, eyes widening mouth momentarily when his fingers found a trail of saliva dripping from his lips to his chin. He’d been drooling. Whoops.

“Eh. Nothing out of the ordinary.” Deimos lied, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand which he then wiped on his pant leg. So that’s what Sanford had been looking at. Oh he must’ve looked downright stupid too. Well now wasn’t that just great? He just had to hope the Chad hadn’t decided to take a photo.

“Honestly I don’t even remember what it was about.” Liar, he remembered all of it. The vivid tastes, the squirmy fullness, the thrill-

Grrrnnnggg…

Ah shit. Busted by his own stomach. For a second the hacker sat there stunned, blinking dumbly as his cheeks heated up with a pink tint. Ok just play it cool Deimos. “….though if I had to make a guess? Food heh.”

“Yeah, that would make sense heh.” Sanford laughed softly, playfully jabbing the smaller man in the stomach. He seemed to buy Deimos’s story, bringing a sense of relief to the hacker. At least he wasn’t going to press on it. “Your stomach was anything but quiet, you know.”

“Go figure. And when I can’t say anything about it too.” Quickly laughter had found itself spilling from Deimos’ mouth, his mind having calmed down when he had heard the sound from the other man. He seemed less concerned, or whatever that emotion he couldn’t name right now was. As another grumble shook through his middle the hacker lowered a hand to rest over his stomach. He got it already. He was upset the daydream of his wasn’t real after all too. Not much more he could do besides try and find something to eat now though. “Say, I’m gonna go try and snag something to shut my gut up. Wanna come?”

“Nah, I’ll pass this time.” Sanford spoke with a small shake of the head and a smile. Try as he might to play it off as friendly, it seemed that odd emotion that Deimos couldn’t name was just bound to show itself in his words. “You just go shut that thing up before the Agency uses it to track us.”

“Oh ha ha. I’m going.” Deimos laughed, giving Sanford one last playful punch to the shoulder before running off. He had food to track down somewhere in this hellscape of Nevada, unless he wanted a beating from Doc that was. He just needed something small or, hell, even temporary if he happened to come across a shrunken grunt or agent. They would work out just fine so long as he didn’t let the others find out what he’d used to shut his stomach up. Couldn’t give away anything that could relate to his little hidden desires. The emptiness in his gut wasn’t something he’d wanted back, but alas, a daydream is only a daydream and he wasn’t getting any fuller just walking around. Now where would his best chance to snag someon- something be…

…

Sanford watched as his friend ran off, smile slowly fading as Dei disappeared from his line of sight. That look of caution slipped back onto his face as he slowly turned his back to head to his room. He needed a moment to think about what he’d just seen. Try as he might, he couldn’t just forget what was now burned into his mind. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what the younger hacker had been daydreaming about if you had seen him while he was in the zoned out trance of his. Mouth wide open and drooling with a hand pretending to dangle something above it, an active stomach topping it all off like some sorta weird cherry on the sundae of his best friend’s little fantasy. Oh no, he knew what that meant. And hearing him mumble the names of their other teammates, along with his own, at least once through it all? It spelled out the man’s daydream in big neon lights. The very thought sent a shiver down his spine, despite how he tried his best to shake it off.

He wanted to believe it when he tried to tell himself that Deimos wouldn’t ever shrink them, much less try to eat them. He really did. All that he’d seen along with logic itself, however, pointed him at it with the firm proof that his words were lies. The man would no doubt take advantage of it, if he ever found a way to shrink them, even if he were to keep them as safe as possible. Just as he had with any unfortunate shrunken agents or grunts he happened upon when he was alone (or at least when he thought he was) Safe or not safe, the fact of the matter still stood. Sanford did not want to spend however long within the confines of his friend’s gut, especially if he wasn’t alone. Being in there had to be bad enough. Him not being able to do anything about it either only made the situation worse. Reasoning with the hacker was most likely hopeless and he wasn’t about to beg. What was left? Pray? God, if Deimos ever managed to get his hands on the Agency’s shrinking technology then one thing was downright certain. Boy were he, Hank, and 2b doomed…

#soft vore #mawedness combat #it took me long enough #but it’s finally done #i have so many ideas for fics based on drawings by a handful of artists #this one though…this one made me go for it and write it #congrats doodle #you and your art shot me with my own inspiration Gun #and I’ve just gotta say amazing work again #you were one of the main three/four who inspired me to write M4dc0m #anyway #I hope you enjoy the fic you caused :)

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gaysimpsstuff · 4 years

Text

Fatgum As a Dad

This was inspired by a conversation I had on a discord server, we all have daddy issues and want Fatgum to adopt us so here’s all the shit we collected.

There are some serious themes in here, mostly regarding the biological parents of the kid, but it’s vague as possible. If anyone wants me to add a trigger warning please let me know.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It all started when he was a kid, when he learned what an orphanage was. One of the kids in his class mentioned being from one, so when he got home he asked his parents about it.

“Mom, what’s an orphanage?”

“Well, Taishiro, it’s where children that don’t have parents go. Then people can come and adopt the children. Why do you ask.”

“A kid at school said he’s from one, when d’you think he’s gonna get adopted?”

“He might, not all children get adopted. Some of them stay in the orphanage until they’re adults.”

“BUT THAT’S NOT FAIR!” he shouted. “EVERYONE DESERVES A HAPPY CHILDHOOD!”

“Well, honey, life’s not fair. And not everyone gets a happy life. It’s how most villains are made, actually. They were hurt more than everyone else and couldn’t handle it anymore. Not all villains are like that but many are. I think you should stay away from that kid, Taishiro. He might turn out a villain.”

But he didn’t stay away. And he made it his mission to become a pro hero so he could make a ton of money and help as many people as he could. He’d help even villains, keep them from doing something dangerous and inspire hope in them.

Then, he’d adopt any kid who needed a father. All the orphanages and foster programs would be empty. Homeless children off the street and in his house, being fed and clothed. He’d care for each and every one of them, not wanting a single person to feel like they didn’t belong.

He finds most of his kids at pride parades. He walks around with a shirt that says ‘FREE DAD HUGS’ and a box full of candy. He remembered one of the kids walking up to him slowly.

“Um.. are you Fatgum?”

“Yes I am!”

“Can I have a hug?”

“Yes you can, Kiddo!” he got down, and the kid put his arms on his stomach (Fatgum’s too big for anyone to fully hug, the dude’s taller than Allmight!) he wrapped his arms around the kid before he heard sniffles. He looked down and saw that the kid was crying.

“M-my parents never hug me like this!” they exclaimed. “They haven’t since I came out. They want to kick me out when I turn thirteen!”

“Can I have their number? I’m going to... talk to them.”

He ended up taking the kid’s family to court, and since the parents were going to just kick the kid out anyways, they let Fatgum adopt them, but they kept nagging him about how he was ‘going to be raising a little demon.’

“Then call me Lucifer.” he spat right back. Now, that kid’s grown up, has pride flags all around their walls, and doesn’t ever doubt that they’re loved.

Fatgum probably bakes with his kids. Helping them up onto the counter to mix ingredients and play with the dough. If they mess something up or break a glass, it’s fine. He doesn’t yell at them or sigh and shake his head, he just kissed the kid on the forehead and helps them clean up the mess.

The food always turns out amazing, and Fatgum always tells the kids that. All of his kids are now Gordon Ramsay level chefs and have probably met Gordon Ramsay.

No matter what their body type is, Fatgum tells his kids their handsome/beautiful and are model worthy. If anyone comments of one of his kid’s body, whether it be negative or... ‘positive’ in a creepy way, you can expect that they’re getting slammed into the ground. No questions asked.

One of Fatgum’s kids is really good at make-up. Like, really good. So Fatgum did the only thing a rational father would do.

Ask for a make-up job.

It didn’t end all that well...

“Hold still.. I gotta get the eyeliner on.”

“Gosh, Kiddo it’s making my eyes water.”

“I know, just hold still... aaaand...... done! Now don’t touch it or it’ll smear!”

“Wow, that looks great! You’re really good at this!”

“Thanks, dad- you smeared it already didn’t you?”

“....Nope.”

Fatgum: I'm not gonna do it, it just seemed like a good option.

Fatgum not even two seconds later after seeing a trans kid crying: now carrying said child on his shoulders while his spouse is chuckling in a corner after signing adoption papers I did it.

This man would get his kids almost anything they wanted. Especially kids with ADD/ADHD/Autism/Tourettes/Anxiety who need stim toys.

Kid: chewing on their nails.

Fatgum: here take this stim toy, and this one, you chew this one so that might help-

Kid ends up with more stim toys than they can count.

Fatgum: just doing his job

The Daddy Issues Gang: Hi dad- oh shit wait- Hi- I- fuck- trauma ensues. crying

Fatgum: grabs the daddy issues gang we're going to the nearest courtroom say hello to your new father its me im the father ok lets go.

Kid: um, dad can I talk to you?

Fatgum, turning around quickly: yes?

Me: ‘he moved so quick, he's mad at me, I'm gonna get yelled at’ Sorry, sorry!

Fatgum: uh, no. I'm getting you ice cream and a new stuffed animal no questions asked

He'd just know when something's wrong, and he’d be great at comforting.

His usual style of comfort is to let the kid sit on his stomach and tell him what’s wrong. His body is one giant pillow for his kids to lay on, he can fit at least eight of them if they cuddle in closely.

Once filmed a commercial dressed as the Cool-Aid man, and all of his kids were in the commercial.

Fatgum: Busts down wall “OH YEAH!”

Director: “And CUT! Okay, try a little more aggressive-”

Fatgum, in tears: “I don’t wanna scare my kids.”

As stated before, if anyone makes his kids feel bad he’s punching them to the ground, but sometimes he’s not in a position where he can do that. Like if a Karen mom ever comes over.

"Linda stop bringing lemon squares if you're going to talk about my son that way because they're just as sour as your attitude."

Fatgum but he slaps the toxic members of your family and tells them to do better or he's taking you.

Then takes you anyway because you prefer him.

Fatgum with a sweater that says ‘mr dad guy on it’

Fatgum definitely watches ATLA, and quotes Uncle Iroh daily. When his kids are minding their own business they suddenly hear

“Leaves from the vine... falling so slow...”

INAUDIBLE CHAOS AND PANIC

Fatgum agency cosplayed ATLA characters on Halloween.

Fatgum was Iroh.

Kirishima was Sokka.

Tamaki was either Momo or Appa.

Maybe get a couple others in on it too, Mirio could be Aang and if Kirishima convinces Todoroki to join for a while he’d totally be Zuko.

Fatgum lets his kids squish his face.

Fatgum used to work with a hero who was hard of hearing, so he learned sign language to help them, and he’s got the skill saved in case one of his kids might be deaf.

So one day, Kirishima invites Bakugou on patrol with him, and we all love that headcanon of Bakugou going deaf, so when he gets pissed at something, he starts insulting everyone around him in SL.

Fatgum notices and starts signing back to him.

YOU’RE ALL MOTHERFUCKERS AND I HATE YOU ALL!

Hey, now, let’s calm down and not call everyone motherfuckers.

FUCK YOU TOO

Bakugou...

Everyone thinks that they’re doing magic, because they’re making all these shapes with their hands and keep looking offended at each other.

Now, Fatgum tries his gosh darn hardest to keep up with the memes, so when his kids come home with good grades, he says “That’s so pog, Kiddo!”

All of his kids are embarrassed.

In the middle of a battle, he throws Kirishima at a villain and they both scream “YEET!” the villain afterwords forever lives in fear of the word ‘yeet’ because he thinks it’ll result in a human rock being thrown at his face.

Fatgum can’t text very well, because his fingers are just too damn big-

sonhsisntextsblooklikehthis'

Translation: so his texts look like this

you learn to understand his texts

Someone better get him a large tablet instead of a phone

If he gets married after he adopts the kids, there’s going to be a huge competition over who does the rings and who does the flowers etc.

If any of his kid’s ever bring home a romantic partner, you can bet your ass he’ll be all over them.

“What’s your average grade?”

“E-eighty percent sir!”

“And do you take sports?”

“No sir, I wish to be a biologist.”

“I see, I see...”

“DAD, YOU AREN”T INTERVIEWING MY PARTNER, ARE YOU? YOU SCARED OFF THE LAST THREE I DON’T WANNA DEAL WITH THAT AGAIN!”

“SORRY, KIDDO! I’LL LET THEM GO NOW! I’ve got my fucking eyes on you. Don’t screw this up.”

Hope y’all enjoy this, if y’all want I can write some headcanons for if Fatgum’s kid becomes a villain-

#fatgum #taishiro toyomitsu #fatgum bnha #fatgum mha #mha fatgum #bnha fatgum #dadgum #fatgum as a dad #fatgum is a dad #daddy issues gang

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dangerliesbeforeyou · 2 years

Text

ok so since it’s apparently international nb day, i thought i’d make a lil post talking about how discovering my own nb identity has changed my life for the better over the past 2 odd years!

the thing is, i’ve always felt like my relationship to my gender never quite fitted into the norm... like, i never had a problem with being a girl or woman, per say, but the things that were expected of afab people from a young age did always rub me the wrong way, but i kinda just chalked that down to ‘patriarchal shit sucks’ rather than anything about me personally... (and don’t get me wrong, a lot of my issues w/ expectations on any gender does boil down to the patriarchy, but there was definitely something more personal going on too...)

but then, like a lot of people, 2 years ago the you-know-what happened and we were all in lockdown, and i began to contemplate my gender in a way that i hadn’t really considered before... i noted how i had tried for so long to ‘fit in’ to pre-conceived ideas of womanhood (i wore makeup, i had long hair, etc) , only to end up feeling empty and wrong when i never could quite be ‘girl’ enough...

i also noticed how my relationship with things that were unnecessarily gendered made me not just frustrated (which i imagine a good portion of people feel when they see the kinda ‘blue is for boys/pink is for girls’ mentality) but genuinely and deeply angry! angry at these arbitrary boxes society tries to put us in when all we wanna fucking do is live lol...

and it’s not like i’d never heard of non-binary genders before this point, but much like before i knew i was bi, i always saw it as something other from me...

other people were trans and nb and genderfluid and agender etcetc, but not me... i felt like by admitting it i would be invalidating my attraction to women (something i had already struggled with coming to terms with as it was), or that i’d be betraying women in some way (which i know is completely ridiculous lol...), so i just kept up the ‘girl’ façade, until i couldn’t do it any longer...

see, i cut my hair short for the first time in my life in 2019, and although i ofc don’t think short hair = unfeminine, there was something in that when i cut it for the first time i just felt so completely myself that i hadn’t felt for... maybe ever lol?? and there was something in me doing it myself (which i still do cos ain’t nobody got time or money to be going to the hairdressers every few weeks lol) that felt so freeing!! and even though at that point i hadn’t really started to question my gender fully, i think it was definitely the turning point where i realised that my body was my own to shape into what made me feel the most comfortable...

now i won’t bore u with all my other gender discovery moments, but just know that once i began to strip away the expectations of my assigned gender, i began to feel so much more at home in my body...

and like yeh, i still have days where i struggle with how i feel about my gender, i still have that shame and guilt that i know so many other queer people feel all the time... but i am proud of being nb and for finally being able to just be me, without those expectations and preconceived ideas!

and i have to say that i wouldn’t feel like this if it weren’t for the amazing fellow nb people on here who helped me over the past couple years as i was struggling with my gender identity so shout out to you guys <3

#personal #international non-binary day #non-binary #nb #this is rly wordy and i didnt rly know how to finish it in a decent way but.... happy nb day peeps!#and i'd also like to add that i'm not saying that i will always feel like this and that i will always identify as nb #but i know that at this present moment i feel so much more confident and comfortable being nb than being my agab

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dameronology · 4 years

Text

tea & whiskey {jack daniels x reader} - 1

part one: an insight into how microwaving tea should be a capital crime (fem! reader)

song for this chapter - ldn by lily allen

summary: you’re Percival; reigning queen of the Kingsman, certified bad-ass and one of the most self-sufficient women to have ever graced the City of London. A mission with the Statesmen is a chance to further your career and tighten your grip on international success - it’s a shame that Jack Daniels already has his eyes on the throne. He also has his eyes on you, and it proves to be a problem for you both. {series masterlist}

this has all the kingsman characters but doesn’t follow the canon of golden circle. eggsy, tequila, champ, merlin etc all crop up throughout the series as well! if u want to be tagged, gimme a shout

- jazz

You didn’t usually answer the door when someone knocked after 11PM.

It was just common sense, really. Only serial killers, creeps and people who had the wrong address would knock that late. You could have taken on any of those three regardless - you were a bad-ass after all - but you were also busy. You’d been tirelessly working all day at the office, and the grind didn’t stop just because you’d got home. The stack of paperwork beside your computer felt like it was never ending and you simply didn’t have the time to answer the door. Working as Kingsman was more of a lifestyle than it was a job.

‘Oi!’

You almost jumped out your seat when the banging moved to the window beside your desk. It overlooked your front lawn and the quiet street you lived on - well, as quiet as a street in central London could be. Classic to the city, rain was lashing down on the glass, obscuring your view of whoever your visitor was.

Right, you could add Eggsy Unwin to the list of people who knocked this late.

‘What the hell, Eggsy?!’ You sighed, opening the front door. Your colleague quickly rushed from where he was standing by the window, elbowing past you and into the dry warmth of your house. ‘It’s almost midnight-’

‘- I’ve been calling you for hours!’ The agent exclaimed.

‘I’ve been working all day.’ You replied.

It wasn’t the first time he’d turned up at your doorstep at a stupid hour. Eggsy was your colleague, but first and foremost, he was your best friend. He had a tendency to drive you up the fucking wall and right back down again, and had done since you were in your school years, but he’d always been a little dependent on you. Whether it had been letting him crash on your sofa when his stepfather became too much, or giving him a lift home from the police station at 2AM after he’d been arrested, you always had his back. He had yours too, but you rarely needed it. Even after becoming a member of the Kingsman and essentially saving the world, you were still the first person he came too.

After wrapping Eggsy up in a towel and escorting him to the kitchen, you placed a mug of warm tea on the table and sat beside him. Work could wait - for an hour or so at least. Chasing an internationally-reclaimed terrorist certainly took precedence over whatever your friend’s problems were, but if he needed you, he needed you. Bros before hoes might not have been the perfect saying for the situation, but the sentiment was definitely there.

‘What’s happened now?’ You quirked an eyebrow. ‘I know it ain’t an arrest because you would have called from the station otherwise.’

Eggsy thinned his eyes at you. ‘I haven’t been arrested in two years.’

‘So what was it?’

‘I had a fight with Tilde.’ He admitted. ‘I don’t know what happened, but she’s mad at me.’

‘Were you talking before she got mad?’

‘Yeah.’

You raised your mug in the air. ‘That’s probably it then.’

‘Y/N!’ He swatted your hand away, causing tea to spill out onto the table.

You sighed. ‘D’you wanna talk about it?’

‘No, I just need a place to crash.’

You stood up, leaning over the table to give his shoulder a squeeze. ‘You know where the spare room is, right?’

‘That’s it?’ He pouted. ‘Tea and a squeeze on the shoulder? My life is falling apart!’

‘Don’t be a drama queen.’ You replied. ‘I have to work - and you should be too. We’re close to getting Calahan.’

Calahan was the codename for the terrorist you’d been tracking - at least his current one. The man had worked under several aliases, jumping from country to country before finally falling under the jurisdiction of the British secret services. The MI5 and Scotland Yard were too well known to work such a sensitive case; the location of their offices were publicly known, making it easier for Calahan to slip in double agents. The civilians, however, had no knowledge on the Kingsmen. A tailor’s shop was a perfectly good front for a place to set up base and track the man down.

Thanks to your success on your previous missions, Arthur had put you in charge of finding him, with Eggsy assigned as your partner. He was just as good an agent as you, but you had little sympathy for his domestic issues.

‘I was working on it all day.’ Eggsy held his hands up in surrender. ‘But with all due respect, Percival, I don’t work into the late hours of the night. I know how to switch off.’

‘That’s because you’re a man, Eggsy.’ You reminded him. ‘I am one of three women at Kingsman.’

‘That’s still three more than there used to be.’

‘You’ve already pissed off one extremely patient woman tonight.’ You warned him, referring to Tilde. ‘Do you want to go two for two?’

‘No.’ He huffed. ‘Women are just complicated.’

‘Or maybe men are just dumb.’ You smiled sweetly, before brushing a hand through his hair. ‘You should get some rest.’

‘So should you.’

‘I’m fine.’ You shook your head. ‘I’ve got a meeting with Merlin in the morning. We’ll have to leave at eight.’

‘Do I have to go? Merlin hasn’t said anything to me-’

‘- yes.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I said so.’

He couldn’t argue with that.

The following morning, you were headed for the Kingsman headquarters by 9AM. Having filled Eggsy with some coffee and half a bacon-sandwich, he had cheered up considerably. You did feel for him - he had been right when he said that women were confusing - but your attention was still very much on work. That was the norm, really. You lived and breathed for your job. It wasn’t your whole identity but it was certainly your whole life. You were recruited at eighteen and now, it was all you knew. The other agents were your family.

‘C’mon, Eggsy!’ You demanded, practically leaping out your car. Your arms were piled high with files, keys dangling from your fingers as you kicked the door to the Mustang shut. It had been a present from Kingsmen for a particularly successful mission.

‘There’s no rush.’ Eggsy chided from behind you. ‘You should enjoy a little leisurely stroll once in a while. It might do that vein on your forehead some good.’

Whilst you were decked out in a blazer and black jeans, Eggsy was in his usual snapback and sports jacket. He trailed beside you, hands stuffed in his pockets as you both slipped inside the shop. It was quiet inside, the only sounds coming from the bell on the door and the sound of your heels on the polished wooden floors. You didn’t just wear them because they made your legs look endless - they doubled up as weapons too. Merlin hadn’t done anything special to them, it was just that anything was a blade if you tried hard enough. Your five inch Christian Louboutins were no different. The fact the bottoms were already red was purely a convenient coincidence.

‘She still hasn’t called me.’ Eggsy murmured.

‘I’m sure she will.’ You gave his arm a light squeeze. ‘Tilde loves you, Egghead.’

‘Fucking ‘ell.’ He let out a snort. ‘You haven’t called me that in years.’

The two of you made your way down the hall and towards the meeting room. Merlin was already sitting at the table, pens and notepads laid out in front of him. Considering that you’d worked together for years, you hardly knew the man. He was always working, always building new gadgets or arranging missions. Did he ever sleep? You wouldn’t have been surprised if it turned out that he’d been a droid this whole time. Someone had mentioned his name being Hamish once, but he didn’t seem like a Hamish. You always pegged him as more of a...Simon. Or a Mark.

‘You two are late.’ He greeted you.

‘It’s nine o’clock.’ You shot back, dropping into the seat opposite him.

‘Early is on time.’ Merlin folded his arms across his chest. ‘On time is late.’

You rolled your eyes at the agent. ‘You know how London traffic can be.’

Choosing to ignore your comment, the Scotsman hit a few buttons on the table in front of him. The whiteboard in front of you jumped to life, lighting up with a picture of New York City - specifically, Midtown. You’d been to the city several times for work, usually to do recon or on protection details for British politicians before diplomatic visits. Outside of that, any missions in North America were outside of the Kingmen’s authority. That was when it fell to the USA’s secret services - a bunch of people you weren’t particularly fond of working with.

‘Calahan slipped out of the country.’ Merlin stated. ‘He’s been spotted in Manhattan by several of our contacts at the Bureau.’

‘What?!’ You guffawed. ‘I thought we had tabs on him. You told me we had tabs on him-’

‘- let me finish, Percival.’ He cut you off. ‘We let him.’

‘You…’ you scoffed in disbelief. ‘You let a known terrorist escape the borders?! You know that I’ve had tabs on him for months! Are you trying to waste my time?’

‘Calm down, agent!’ Merlin repeated, this time in a more firm tone. It was easy to let your temper get the best of you - but at the same time, it was the very thing that had allowed you to force your colleagues into submission. ‘He has more charges on his back in American jurisdiction. We have a better chance of convicting him over there.’

‘You could have told me that before I spent six months tailing him.’ You dropped back in your chair, folding your arms tightly across your chest.

‘Your mission isn’t over.’ Merlin replied. ‘You know more about Calahan than any men here or across the pond. I want you posted in New York for a few months.’

‘Oh?’ You sat up, interest peaked.

Working internationally was usually the first step to becoming a senior agent. It was one thing to commandeer the respect of your colleagues but to throw your name into the ring on a global scale? That was how you made it big time - and big time meant big time. Your work would go from being based in London, to taking you all over the world. Kingsman who worked on an international level could be in Moscow one day and Bogota the next. Once they retired, they were legends. It was the kind of success you’d dreamed of your whole life.

And New York was the first stepping stone.

‘It’s only if you want it, of course.’ Merlin pulled you from your thoughts. ‘The Statesman have agreed to accommodate you, should you choose to accept.’

‘Statesmen?’ You tried to hide the displeasement in your face. ‘Like...the cowboys?’

‘Is there a problem, Percival?’

‘No!’ You quickly replied. ‘It’s just...I worked with one of them once. It wasn’t great.’

‘Here we go.’ Eggsy murmured from beside you. ‘She witnessed Agent Tequila make tea in the microwave.’

‘And I swore never to work with them again.’ You hissed under your breath, fists clenching.

‘I can see how that would be disturbing.’ Merlin agreed. ‘Though I’m not entirely sure it’s enough reason to turn down a potentially career changing mission.’

‘No, you’re right.’ You nodded. ‘But I can bring my own kettle, right?’

‘I can’t believe you brought your own fucking kettle.’

‘And I can’t believe that Merlin is making me drag you along-’

‘- it’s only for a week.’ Eggsy held his hands up in defense.

Eggsy, who had momentarily forgotten his relationship woes, had been posted out in the city with you for the first five or six days. Merlin and Arthur had been pretty insistent on him joining you - something about making sure you didn’t blow your lid at a cowboy. It was funny, because you were usually the one babysitting him. That being said, deep down you were glad to have him there with you. It would have made settling in a little easier.

You were moving faster than him, the sound of your heels clicking on the marble floors of the Statesman headquarters as you floated towards the front desk. The building was right in central Manhattan, bang in the middle of all the beautiful things New York had to offer. Not that you were going to experience many of them - you were here to work, after all.

‘Percival!’ Agent Tequila was posted by the front desk, a grin spread across his face as your eyes met. ‘And...I know they told me your name, but I’ve forgotten.’

‘He’s Galahad 2.0.’ You stuck your hand out to Tequila, offering him the kettle. ‘This is for you.’

‘A...a kettle?’ The agent gave you an odd look.

‘If I’m going to be working with you for the next few months, I cannot witness you making tea in a microwave.’ You explained. ‘I may murder you in your sleep otherwise.’

‘Jeez, lady.’ He muttered. He would have argued, but if there was one thing he’d learnt from your last collaboration, it was that nobody entered into a fight with you and won. ‘But it’s okay, you’re not with me this time.’

‘Oh?’ You quirked an eyebrow. Tequila began to make his way to the lift, signalling for you and Eggsy to follow.

‘No, you’re with Whiskey this time.’ He explained, pressing the button for the top floor. ‘He’s a little more senior than me.’

‘Whiskey and Tequila?’ Eggsy muttered in your ear. ‘What’s their boss called? Pale ale?’

‘Champagne.’ You replied.

‘Good one.’ He snorted.

‘No, Eggsy.’ You whispered back. ‘He’s actually called Champagne.’

‘Fucking hell.’

Yeah, you thought, that kinda sums it up.

The three of you stepped out the lift and onto the top floor. The views from the windows were almost breath-taking; it wasn’t often that you got to see 360 degree views of one of the most beautiful cities in the world. The skyscrapers stretched out further than the eye could see, eventually melting together in the distance where the sky met the land. It was almost breath-taking just to think about - the people, the opportunities, the magic that New York had to offer. London was your home, and you couldn’t even begin to dream of leaving, but your mind did wander off a little.

‘Whiskey! I got your girl!’ Tequila yelled, pressing a button on an intercom outside one of the offices. He gave Eggsy a quick glance. . ‘And...the other one.’

‘Sweet Jesus, Tequila!’ A strong Southern accent came back. ‘You don’t gotta yell every time you use the fucking thing! I’m gonna be deaf as a goddamn doornail before I’m fifty.’

A moment later, the door to the office opened and Agent Whiskey stepped out. He was about the same height as Tequila, but a little older. He was wearing a cow-boy hat and there was a...was it a swagger? A spring in his step? Either way, the temptation to stick your foot out and stop him in his tracks was overwhelming.

‘Well hello, pretty lady.’ Whiskey greeted you with a shit-eating grin. ‘I hear that you’re the little birdy who’s gonna give me Calahan?’

‘I prefer Percival.’ You monotonously replied. ‘And if I’m the little birdy that’s gonna give you Calahan, then you must be the yankee who stole him from me.’

‘Girl’s gotta bite.’ He gave your hand a shake. ‘I like that.’

‘This is Galahad.’ You pointed to Eggsy, who was inwardly holding his breath at the whole exchange. He was mentally counting down the minutes before you smacked off Whiskey’s cowboy hat. ‘Let’s see if you can acknowledge his gender three times in one breath-’

‘- okay, that’ll do!’ Your best friend pulled you back, taking Whiskey’s hand in place of yours. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Whiskey.’

‘Please, call me Jack.’ The cowboy replied.

‘Whiskey. Jack.’ Eggsy murmured under his breath. ‘Oh my days! Imagine if your surname was Daniels.’

After a brief conversation with Jack about his surname - during which you had seen Eggsy Unwin more entertained than ever before - you were taken down the hall to the agent’s office. Meanwhile, Eggsy and Tequila were escorted off to exchange some files that you’d both gathered.

Whiskey’s office was exactly as you could have predicted; a mixture of dark wood furniture and red tones. The air smelt of his aftershave, with a hint of brandy and earth.

‘Your desk is that one there.’ Whiskey gestured to a slightly smaller set-up in the corner.

‘I don’t get my own office?’

‘Since we’re gonna be working in close proximity, Champ figured it was best we double up.’ He explained. ‘Saves us doing a whole revolving door movement when we gotta talk to one another.’

‘Makes sense.’ You placed your bag on the desk, admiring the view for a moment. All of your files on Calahan had been uploaded to the Statesmen’s online cloud, whilst your other belongings had been delivered to the apartment you were staying in. ‘Nice view.’

‘It ain’t bad.’ Whiskey nodded. ‘You been to this neck of the woods before?’

‘Only when British diplomats need a babysitter.’ You replied.

‘Babysitting?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s what you Kingsmen do? You babysit?’

‘Why d’you think Eggsy is here?’ You shot back. ‘To babysit me.’

‘Now why would a well-mannered redcoat such as yourself need a babysitter?’ He could barely hide the grin in his voice, leaning back against the window as he peered at you over his glasses.

‘How would I put it in your terms?’ You pondered for a moment, offering Whiskey a sweet smile. ‘Is there a Southern term for I eat cowboys alive?’

He gulped. ‘I...I don’t think we got one for that yet.’

You nodded, turning your attention back to staring at the view in front of you. ‘You should come up with one. It might be useful.’

#jack daniels x reader #jack daniels imagine #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey imagine #agent whiskey fluff #jack daniels fluff #jack daniels x you #agent whiskey x female reader #agent whiskey x you #kingsman imagine #kingsman x reader #eggsy unwin x reader #eggsy unwin imagine

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dont-you-dare-imagine · 3 years

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Can I get an imagine where the reader meets lila, and even tho she knows she's a liar and manipulative she knows there might be a reason behind it and she tries to befriend lila to break down her walls and be the friend lila always needed since everyone hates her, reader gets backlash for being friends with lila. Especially from marinette but lila hold reader close since reader is the only one who believes in her and gives her a chance even after everything she has done?

A Second Chance

summary: just the request!

words: 2.2k (my longest yet!)

warnings: she/her pronouns used and female reader implied, talks of bullying, mentions of lunch and eating, marinette is kind of out of character but eh, being sad, but happy ending kind of. you’ll see what i mean. if there’s anything i missed please let me know!

^^also if you catch any spelling errors or anything like that!

a/n: i really am so sorry that it took me so long to get to this. i currently have two more requests that i’m going to try and get out by the end of the week. i did get rid of a few requests, so if what you sent in isn’t one of the next 2 works i put out, i’m super sorry. i just wanted to have a clean inbox and had to get rid of the things that i just couldn’t motivate myself to write. i really hope you guys understand. i’ve just had writers block and be super busy. anyways: i hope you guys enjoy! it’s the longest work that i’ve posted so far!

also yes i am posting this at 1:30am :)

Y/N had just moved to Paris a couple of weeks ago, and had just started settling into her new school. She didn’t really have any good friends yet, but she was starting to get more comfortable with the people in her home room class. She especially liked a girl named Marinette, and wanted to be better friends with her. She seemed super nice and they shared similar interests. Y/N was getting good grades, retaining the information, and became more confident. She was just overall happy with how things were going for her right now.

They say it isn’t truly high school without a challenge, but Y/N didn’t think that she’d have many issues at this school. Everyone around her seemed really kind, the work was fairly easy, and at first things didn’t seem super eventful. Well, aside from having super-heroes, and akumas, and a super villain, etc. But everyone told her that she’d get used to it eventually.

One day during lunch break, everyone was crowded around the front entrance of the school. Y/N wondered what everyone was doing, so she went over to the crowd to check things out. She slowly but surely maneuvered her way to the front of the crowd, and was a little surprised to see what seemed to be a normal girl. Not a celebrity or anything special, just a regular student. She hadn’t seen this girl before, so maybe not even that. Maybe she was just visiting. Then, the girl started talking to the people in the front of the crowd.

“Yes! Prince Ali asked me to come live with him in the palace. Of course, I didn’t accept. I just couldn’t leave all of my fellow students here without me!” Y/N immediately thought that this girl was delusional. She listened for a minute longer, but the girl’s story was getting super boring and repetitive. After a couple of seconds Y/N just couldn’t take it any longer, and went to lunch normally. As soon as she reached the cafeteria, she spotted Marinette at the table she usually sat at. She approached Marinette and asked if she could sit with her.

“Of course! I was actually waiting for you to show up. I know this is where you usually sit, not in like a creepy stalker way, but yeah! I figured it was a good place to wait. What took you so long?” she asked as she tilted her head, a look of confusion on her face. Y/N replied, “Oh, some girl claiming that Prince Ali wants her to live in the palace with him was rotting people’s brains with her obviously fake story near the front entrance. Seriously, how do people buy that crap? It’s like they just brainlessly listened to whatever she was saying. It’s-“

“Wait, wait, wait. did the girl have straight, brown hair, with bangs? Probably wearing orange with polka dots? Green eyes?” Marinette cut Y/N off. “Yeah, sounds accurate. Why?” Y/N questioned. Marinette rolled her eyes and appeared to be frustrated and annoyed. “Lila’s back from her ‘stress relieving vacation’ with the royal family!” Marinette said the last part in a high pitched voice, batting her eyelashes, and holding her hands together by her face, obviously mocking the girl. “Lila?” Y/N asked. “Yeah, she’s a student here. She’s in our home room actually. I swear, she can’t speak one sentence without lying. It’s a serious issue. It’s just so frustrating to see people eat up everything she says like they’ll never eat again.”

After lunch, Marinette and Y/N went back to Ms. Bustier’s classroom. They found their seats, and waited for the class to start. Suddenly, Y/N remembered that Marinette said Lila was in this class too. She didn’t see her, so maybe Marinette had gotten it wrong. She sure hoped so. From what Marinette had been saying about her, Lila didn’t seem like a nice person at all. She just seemed annoying and rude, not someone Y/N wanted to be around. Just as Y/N began to relax, thinking that Lila surely wasn’t in her class, the last group of people walked in. And guess who was in the middle of the small crowd, probably sharing more of their far fetched tales? Lila.

As soon as everyone was in their seats, Lila started talking louder so people could hear what she was saying. Everyone quieted down, as if they were eager to listen.

“Yes! Sometimes I wonder why I said no to the offer, since everything is so wonderful there! The architecture, the food, the people, the plants and animals... but then I remember how amazing you all are, and I remember why I’m needed back here in Paris!”

“Please...” Y/N said quietly to herself. “Are people really buying this crap?” She thought. She looked across the classroom to see Marinette getting visibly angry.

Y/N gestured for her to calm down, but it was too late. Mari had had it. “Lila, would you just do us all a favor and shut up?!!” Marinette raised her voice on the last part, which startled everyone a little. Even Ms. Bustier. “Alright, alright class. Settle down. We’re going to begin class now. Marinette, please don’t raise your voice again.” The teacher warned. “Yes ma’am.” Marinette responded, and then slumped in her seat. Y/N looked up at Lila, and noticed that she looked upset. Like, genuinely sad. Not “oh everyone look at me I need all the attention cause I’m sad.” She looked like she was really hurt. Y/N wondered if maybe lying isn’t all there was to Lila. Maybe she just needed someone to listen. Maybe Y/N was just too nice. But her mind was already made up. After school today, she was going to talk to Lila and see if she could get anywhere.

The bell had just rung, and everyone was gathering their things. Y/N started walking out of her last period, when she spotted Lila sitting by herself on a bench.

Y/N took a deep breath, and then slowly approached Lila. As soon as Y/N got there, Lila looked like she was ready to gather her things and get up and leave. “Wait!” Y/N called. Lila looked back and then started to put her things back down. “What do you want? I’ve kind of had a long day and I’m about ready to be done with it.” She said angrily. “I’m Y/N. I’m new here, and I’m in Ms. Bustier’s class with you. I was there when Marinette shouted at you today, and I just thought you looked upset and might need someone to talk to. I know you probably have your own friends and stuff that could listen but I just wanted to let you know that I could listen if you want me to.” She took a breath after finishing her fast-spoken, rambly sentence.

“To be completely honest, I don’t have many friends.” Lila said looking more sad and upset than angry. “You seemed pretty popular during lunch. And at the beginning of class earlier today.” Y/N said, now sitting down on the same bench as Lila. “That’s popularity for you. Those people just listen to what I have to say because everyone else does. They aren’t my friends.” Lila said, almost hurt by her own words. “Those things you were saying today, were they really true? Not to be rude, but they were a little out there.” Lila took a deep breath and then started speaking again. “They were half true. I did visit the Prince’s country, and everything really was beautiful, but the truth is I never even came in contact with the royal family.” Lila sighed, and looked at the ground. “You’re probably gonna go and tell everyone now, right? Tell them I’m just a liar? I bet you’re just like Marinette aren’t you? Little miss perfect going to snitch on someone just for wanting some attention. Well people listen to me more than they listen to you, so you better watch what you say!” She was now standing, right in front of Y/N, all up in her face. Lila started to tear up a little. Y/N noticed this, and was quick to stand up herself and put a hand on Lila’s shoulder. “I wasn’t gonna tell anyone. No need to get defensive. You seem really upset. I feel like this is about more than just what Marinette said today.”

Lila took Y/N’s hand off of her and sat back down. Y/N quickly sat on the bench too. “I’m sorry, I’m just... I don’t get a lot of attention or approval anywhere but school. It’s almost like I’m forced to come up with all of these fairytales of what I wish my life was, just so people listen for at least a few seconds. I just wanna feel liked. And I don’t get that anywhere but here. Sorry, sorry. I know you don’t wanna hear my full life story.” Lila gave a sad little laugh and took a breath, before starting up again. “I really do need to find some friends, don’t I?” She was once again looking at the ground, but after she finished speaking she started to look up at Y/N.

“Then let’s be friends. On one condition...” Y/N said. “You need to cut back on the lying. Especially the ones that hurt people. Marinette was telling me a little about you at lunch today, and most of what I heard wasn’t good. The things you say matter. They have power and people pay attention when you speak. You can use that power for good instead of bad.” Lila giggled a little. “You know you sounded really cheesy, right?” Y/N started laughing herself. “Just a little cheesy. Now come on, it’s getting late. They probably won’t let us stay in the building for much longer.” Lila checked her phone and saw that Y/N was right. School ended at 3pm, and it was going on 3:30. They picked up their belongings, and walked out the school. They waved goodbye, and both went home knowing that this was the start of a good friendship.

Weeks passed. Lila hadn’t spread a hurtful rumor since her initial conversation with Y/N, and things were going great with lying in general. Sure it still happened here and there, but not nearly as much as it used to. Y/N wasn’t getting along very good with Marinette nowadays, but she decided that it was for the better. Marinette had her friends, and didn’t need Y/N the way that Lila did. One day, Y/N overheard Marinette talking about Lila to a small group that consisted of Nino, Alya, and Mylene. Y/N walked over, just to see what was going on. “Hey guys! What are you talking about?” She asked, as if she hadn’t already been listening for a minute. “Oh, nothing, just your new little friend over there.” Marinette said as she rolled her eyes, and gestured towards where Lila was laughing with a small group of people. “I honestly don’t understand why you guys don’t like her. Once you get to know her, she really isn’t that bad.” Y/N defended her new friend. “Please Y/N, we all know you’re only friends with her because no one else is. Face it, she’s a bad person. All she ever does is lie, manipulate, and hurt people. You should just end it now before she hurts you too. Honestly, she-“

“You know what Marinette? Maybe Lila just genuinely didn’t know better. Have you been paying attention the passed couple of weeks? They’ve actually been trying to be kind and making friends. Maybe she hasn’t been the best in that past, but you need to grow up and move on! Seriously, what are we, 10? Look around! Just over there people are laughing and having a normal conversation with her. She isn’t lying, she isn’t being rude, she’s just laughing and having fun! Maybe if you gave her a chance, took the time to get to know her, and stopped being so closed minded, you’d see that she’s really a cool and fun and interesting person. Even when she isn’t lying! Just get over yourself already, okay?” Marinette was shocked, and a couple people nearby who had stopped to listen were shocked too. One of those people being Lila. Y/N just kind of slowly walked away, hoping that not too many people noticed.

Later in the day between class periods, Y/N was walking when all of a sudden they felt someone hug her from behind. She looked back and realized that it was Lila, and she was smiling. Y/N turned around and Lila let go, only to hug them again from the front. “What’s got you so happy?” Y/N questioned. “I heard what you said earlier. It’s really all because of you. I’ve never had a friend like you before. I’ve never had a true and real friend. Thank you so much for giving me a chance.” Lila said. There wasn’t a trace of any lie in that sentence. Lila was so grateful for Y/N, and Y/N was equally as grateful for Lila. They both needed each other so that they could discover what a true friend really is.

andddd that’s a wrap! if you made it to the end i hope you enjoyed!! requests and still open, and my writers block is completely cured, so if you send something in it should be up soon. have a lovely day!!

#lila miraculous #miraculous ladybug

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elianamarie-blog · 4 years

Text

The Things You Give Part 10

A/N: The part has finally arrived! And so has the most anticipating part! I can’t wait to hear what you guys think! Also, if you want to be added to the tag list, let me know and I’ll get you added. Thank you for you loving support throughout this :) Enjoy the chapter!

Edit: I realized I made a bunch of mistakes so I went back and fixed them! I apologize for that, I was really tired, but really wanted to finish this before I went to bed. :)

Wednesday

October 4, 1978

Point Place

The Forman’s Basement

4 o’clock

The house was quiet as Kitty and Red had decided to go out to eat, Eric was on a date with Donna, Jackie and Fez were supposedly talking, and Kelso was…out doing God knows what.

Meanwhile, Hyde and Y/N laid on the couch, attached at the lips, completely breathless. She threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged as he latched his lips onto her neck. He groaned at her rough touch and she bucked her hips into his. She roughly grabbed his face and brought his face back to his and explored his mouth with her tongue. Their breaths were jagged as they felt the heat begin to rise.

They were so lost in each other that they didn’t hear the door open, revealing Jackie and Donna.

“Whoa!” Donna and Jackie said in unison, causing Y/N and Hyde to look up and pull apart.

�� “Look, just because we now know about you two, doesn’t mean we want to see any of it,” Donna said, moving past them and sitting in Hyde’s seat.

“Yeah, it makes me wanna barf,” Jackie said and sat in the lawn chair.

Hyde and Y/N sat up; Y/N fixing her shirt while Hyde raked his fingers through his hair, fluffing it.

“What? We’re not allowed to do anything?” Hyde asked while Y/N wiped at her lips. She noticed Hyde was wearing her pink lipstick all over his mouth. “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of us being together?”

“You know there’s to more that than sex,” Donna commented.

“What’s the fun in that?” he asked, earning another a light smack to the chest from Y/N .

“You guys hardly have anything in common,” Jackie pointed out. “Do you guys ever talk?”

“Of course, we talk,” Y/N defended. “We talk about music, politics, the universe, movies, books, etc.”

“Oh,” Jackie said surprised and leaned back in the chair.

“Yeah, but that’s when we’re not doing it,” Hyde said. “And that is a lot.”

“Oh my God, Hyde!” Y/N shouted as Hyde laughed.

“Oh, come on,” he defended. “It’s not like they don’t already know.”

The girls looked at each other and shrugged.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s true,” they mumbled and turned back to each other.

“Anyway, Jackie,” Y/N said. “Did you ever talk to your mom and Fez?”

“Yeah. My mom agreed to go back to my dad and work things about and Fez…well…Fez and I did not. He actually doesn’t want to see me, but I’m trying to just be his friend right now.”

“You can’t be his friend after you dumped the guy,” Hyde interjected. “That’s even worse than putting him in the friendzone and still wanting to be friends. Instead of a slap to the face, it’s a slap to the nads.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” she asked.

“Just give him some space and time,” Donna suggested. “By trying to talk to him and befriend him just makes things worse.”

“So, what? I just can’t come over when he’s not here?”

“No, you absolutely can,” Y/N said and leaned forward. “You just gotta…kind of be distant. If he’s sitting where you’re sitting, than sit on the other side of the room. Don’t talk to him too much. The more you guys act normal around each other, the faster it will be. And soon, you guys will be talking again.”

“Yeah, I guess I can do that,” she said and crossed her legs. “I mean, how hard can that be? It’s not like he’ll be bringing over another girl or something.”

The door suddenly swung open revealing Fez as he entered with a bright smile on his face. “Hey guys! Look who I ran into!”

A familiar blonde walked in.

“Caroline?” everyone asked.

“Yes! My beautiful girlfriend, Caroline,” Fez slowly said, as if to throw in Jackie’s face.

“Wait, girlfriend?” Jackie asked, standing up and facing them. “We just broke up a few days ago.”

“Well, when you shattered and stomped on my heart, I went out and ran into the one person who never hurt me. So, I thought, ‘what the hell. At least she won’t hurt me.’”

“Maybe not emotionally,” Y/N said, ignoring the glare from Caroline.

“I’m actually a lot better now,” Caroline squeaked. “My therapists put me on meds to control my sudden violent urges. So, believe me when I say, when I rip your heart out, I actually thought it through.”

Luckily for everyone, Caroline didn’t and never did scare Y/N. Y/N was someone Caroline didn’t want to mess with and she was about to find out. While everyone shut up from her remark, Y/N stood up and stepped forward, a smirk playing at her lips.

“You know Caroline,” she began and everyone stared at her intently. Especially Caroline who was used to everyone cowering away from her. “I don’t appreciate any kind of threats. Especially in my house and at my friends. You don’t know me very well, so I’m going to let this one slide.” Now Y/N was merely inches away from Caroline’s face, who were the same height. Y/N ’s voice turned dark and Caroline swore she saw fire in Y/N ’s eyes. “But if you threaten me or my friends again, or even try to hurt anyone of us, I’ll put my foot so far up your ass that doctors will have to surgically remove it to prevent internal damage. And if I hear, see, or even freaking sense you laying your little pinky finger on Fez, you’re going to have to get facial reconstruction surgery.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what is going on inside that pretty little head of yours. You don’t get to come into my house and play that crap with me. You might be able to make everyone afraid of you, but I’m not.”

Everyone stared at Y/N in disbelief. No one had ever stood up to Caroline. She would silence them with her crazy tantrums and no one would ever want to poke the bear. But what she didn’t know who Y/N’s dad was. Y/N knew Red did unspeakable things to survive in the Korean war and if Red taught her anything, it was that nothing is worse than what he saw in the war. So, having a crazy five-foot crazy Y/H/C girl threatening was nothing.

“What—you can’t—” Caroline sputtered, but Y/N cut her off.

“What?” Y/N said, an evil smile on her face, knowing she threw her off. “Didn’t think anyone would make you shut up? Just remember, we wouldn’t be trapped in here with you, you’d be trapped in here with me.”

The air in the room had gone completely and eerily still. Everyone sat there, jaws to the floor, gawking at the scene in front of them. Hyde was now officially scared and horny. Donna and Jackie were the most amused, now seeing Y/N completely leaning into to Caroline who now was backed into the door.

“Do I make myself clear?” Y/N said.

Caroline nodded her head fervently.

Y/N backed off completely with a sweet and innocent smile on her face. “Good. Then there won’t be any problems.” She went and sat back down on the couch, but everyone still stood frozen, staring at her in complete shock.

“Let’s go Fez,” Caroline stammered and gripped Fez’s hand tightly as they walked out the basement.

“What the hell was that?!” Donna asked, exasperated. “I’ve never seen that side of you.”

“You never forced me to show it to you,” Y/N responded casually.

Hyde held up a finger. “That was probably the coolest and hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah, where did you learn to do that?” Jackie asked, the biggest smile forming on her face.

“Do you not know who my father is?”

“Man, you and Eric are complete and polar opposites,” Donna commented. “He would just take the death threat.”

“I know,” Y/N laughed. “That’s why I was always around to make sure no one messed with him.”

“We might just need you to always be around,” Jackie giggled. “You can scare her away and Donna can squish her with her huge giant feet.”

Donna rolled her eyes and leaned back. “I wish I had a camera to capture the look on her face.”

Y/N laughed and sat up to grab a popsicle. “Alright, alright. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not until you kick that crazy bitch’s ass,” Hyde stated.

“Then I will definitely make sure I have a camera,” Donna said, smiling.

--Time Skip—

“Hey Steven, I was able to get in contact with William Barnette,” Kitty said, later that night at the kitchen table.

“What?” he asked, mouth full of food. “Why?”

“Because you have every right to meet him,” she responded.

“But I don’t want to,” he argued.

“Well, you’re gonna,” Y/N said bluntly. “This will be good for you.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t I get a say?”

“No,” Red and Eric said in unison.

“When it comes to women, man, we hardly get a say,” Eric commented and forked some pasta into his mouth.

Y/N and Kitty beamed with pride at each other and sipped their sweet tea.

“Look, Ma, he’s learning already,” Y/N mocked Eric and pouted her lips, batting her eyes.

“Shut up, Thing 2,” Eric spat.

“Alright, that’s enough you two,” Kitty said and turned back to Steven. “I invited him over for tomorrow afternoon for drinks and cheese.”

“You what?” Red asked.

“Oh, come on Red, don’t be such a sour puss. It’ll be nice.”

“Kitty, I don’t want some stranger in my house!” he said.

“Can I second that?” Steven asked.

“No,” Kitty and Y/N answered.

--Time Skip—

“C’mon, I don’t want to meet him,” Steven whined as Y/N adjusted his tie.

“You need to, though,” she said and looked up at him. “It’ll be good for you to meet him and maybe get some closure.”

She stopped fiddling with his tie and rested her hands gently on his chest. “If not for you, at least do this for me.”

He looked down at her and sighed. Those pretty Y/E/C of hers made him melt. “Fine, fine. I’ll do it, but I’ll be complaining the whole time.”

“Thank you,” she said under her breath and kissed him. She pulled away from him and looked him in his blue eyes. “Maybe later, we can have a little fun.”

“Oh, really?” he asked seductively and leaned down to kiss her once more, but stopped just a mere inch of her lips. “Wait, which kind of fun? The one that makes you feel good or the one that makes you…feel…good?”

“Why not both?” she asked.

He gave her a devilish smile. “You get me so well.”

She smiled sweetly at him, her eyes sparkling at him.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Her smile widened. “I love you too, Steven.”

He placed a hand behind her head and brought her in for another kiss. They stayed that way for a minute before pulling away.

“We should probably get upstairs,” Y/N whispered.

“Yeah,” he sighed and stole a quick peck from her again before going upstairs first. Y/N waited a couple minutes before trailing after him.

As she entered the kitchen, she heard Kitty gush over Steven.

“Oh, Steven! You look so handsome,” she said. “You’re even wearing a tie!”

“Yeah, I thought I’d try to look halfway decent,” he responded.

“I’m so happy you finally decided to meet him,” Kitty said and opened up the cabinet to grab the bottle of wine.

“Yeah, I kept hearing a voice telling me, ‘meet your father, meet your father.’ So I finally said ‘Okay, Y/N. Shut the hell up.’”

Y/N nodded, wearing a proud smile. “True story.”

“Get off the phone!” Kelso yelled, ripping the sliding door open and racing through the kitchen to the phone.

“Kelso, what the hell are you doing here?” Hyde asked.

“Any minute now, Brooke is going to go into labor. I cannot miss this call.”

“Go home, Kelso,” Y/N said and forced herself passed him into the living room.

“What, why?” he asked innocently.

“We’re kinda in the middle of something. So, beat it,” Hyde said.

“But what if Brooke calls?” Kelso asked.

“She’ll be calling your house first, moron!” Hyde exclaimed and walked out the kitchen.

“Now, I spoke to him this morning and I told him how your parents abandoned you and we took you in,” said Kitty. “I know that it’s hard for you to say it out loud, but that you love me because I saved your life.”

“Now, Kitty I don’t think—” Red started, but Kitty cut him off.

“He would be dead on the streets,” she stated firmly.

The doorbell rang, indicating that William Barnett was finally there.

“Okay, he’s here!” Kitty exclaimed, smoothing out her skirt. “Now, Steven, fix your hair. Eric don’t mumble and Red don’t yell at Eric if he mumbles.”

Steven patted his hair down as Kitty skipped her way to the door and practically yanked it open in excitement. At the door, stood a very tall black man.

“Hi, is this the Forman’s?” he asked.

“I’m sorry, but we told your friends last week that we don’t want a subscription to Ebony magazine,” Kitty said.

“No, no, no. We spoke over the phone,” he said correcting Kitty. “I’m William Barnette. Steven’s father.”

The whole room was silent for a second before Kitty shook her head. “Oh! Of course,” she said and allowed him in. Shutting the door behind her, she gestured towards everyone. “Everyone, I want you to meet Steven’s father. Steven, look.”

“I’m looking,” Steven replied in complete shock.

“It’s good to meet you, son. I’ve really been looking forward to this,” he said and smiled kindly at him. “I want to get you a card, but they don’t really have anything for our unique situation. So, here. Happy first communion.” He handed Steven a card, that indeed, did say “First Communion.” Which Steven found kind of hilarious because he isn’t religious.

“Wow,” he said, looking at the card.

“You came from him?” Eric asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, I’m not sure I see the resemblance,” Y/N stated.

“What are you talking about?” Steven asked, smiling. “The ‘fro, the coolness, the suspicion of the man…this explains so much.”

“Well, Mr. Barnette, please sit anywhere you’d like on this big day,” Kitty said and gestured toward the couch. “After all, how often does a kid get to meet his very own father?”

“So far, I’m up to twice,” Steven said.

“Hey, would you like a drink?” Kitty offered. “Perhaps a cool drink for our…cool visitor.”

“Mom,” Y/N said under her breath. “Chill.”

“No thanks, but I think you all could use a scotch,” William said and sat down on the couch.

“You know what show I love?” Kitty asked once she was situated on the couch. “The Jeffersons. Dyn-o-mite! Right?”

“Dyn-o-mite is from Good Times, Mom,” Eric corrected.

“Oh, well,” Kitty said and cleared her throat, clearly feeling uncomfortable. “I watch them all. I mean, I don’t discriminate.”

“So,” Red said, now being the one to clear his throat. “Father and son, huh?”

“Yep,” William answered.

“I guess Steven must’ve gotten his mother’s…eyes,” Red said slowly. “Steven got his mother’s eyes.”

“Steven got his mother’s pretty eyes,” Kitty said.

“Right!” Eric said. “Or as I like to say, right on.” He pumped a weak fist in the air, trying to make this conversation less awkward.

Steven glanced next to Y/N who was sitting next to him to find her head in her palm.

“Okay, I’m going to say the elephant in the room,” Kitty stated. “You’re black!”

“Mom!” the twins exclaimed.

“Okay, please, Mr. Barnette. We are very open-minded people,” said Red.

“Oh, no he’s right,” Kitty said. “I, myself love that artist, Art Garfunkel.”

“Mom, Art Garfunkel is white,” Eric said.

“Really?” she asked. “Well, his name’s got the word ‘funk’ in it. Oh, wait, wait, wait. Red, who is that black person I like?”

“Oh, my God,” Y/N grumbled, bending over and covering her face with her hands. She could feel her face grow hot from embarrassment.

“Martin Luther King Jr.?” Red answered.

“Yes!” Kitty exclaimed.

“You know, I’m beginning to feel like you haven’t had a lot of black people in your house,” William said.

“Well, certainly not because we didn’t want to,” Kitty defended.

“Right, right. It’s just that there hasn’t been any available,” Eric piped up.

“You know it is Wisconsin,” Y/N said after she was able to somewhat recover from her embarrassment.

William chuckled. “Oh, I know all about Wisconsin. The only place around here where you see black and white is on a cow.”

“So, William,” Red piped up. “What kind of work do you do?”

“I own a chain of record stores,” he responded.

“Record stores…that’s kind of cool huh?” Steven asked, now interested. “I was afraid you were going to be a cop or something.” He chuckled.

William shook his head. “No, no. I don’t like cops.”

“Me neither!” Hyde said, showing some excitement now. “Hey, who do you think shot JFK?”

“I don’t know because they don’t want me to know,” William responded.

“Check it out, man. I’m the chip off the old block!” Hyde excitedly said. “Man, I wish Mom would’ve told me about you. Hey, when was the last time you saw her?”

“Oh, years ago,” he responded. “We were dating and then she just…disappeared.”

“Sounds like her,” Hyde said.

“And then I guess she married the guy who you thought was your father and just told you were his baby.”

“Mom must’ve been pretty relieved when I came out white, huh?” Hyde and William laughed together, but everyone else in the room was nervously chuckling.

“Oh, it looks like we’re out of cheese,” Red said. “I’ll go get some more.”

Before Kitty could object, Red hopped out of his chair and skittered to the kitchen.

“I want his daddy who loves him to be the first one he sees,” Michael said to Fez while eating cheese puffs. “Plus, I don’t want him to get switched at birth with one of those babies that don’t speak English.”

“Why are you here?!” Red asked as he entered the kitchen. “This isn’t your home!”

“It still wouldn’t kill you to put up pictures of me!” Kelso defended.

The phone rang, cutting their conversation short.

“I got it,” Red called and answered. “Hello?...Charlie Schmidt! I haven’t talked to you since the war…you know I wasn’t sure if they even pulled you out of the water. If I would’ve known—”

“NEVER CALL HERE AGAIN!” Kelso shouted after grabbing the phone from Red and hanging up the phone.

“Kelso!” Red shouted.

“I gotta keep the line open!”

“I’m gonna kill you and mount your head on the TV,” Red fumed. “And if it helps me get better reception, it’ll do more for me than you ever have in your whole life!”

Fez and Michael scrambled away from Red and into the living room with Red following closely behind them.

“Oh, Fez, Michael, meet William Barnette. Steven’s father,” Kitty said, gesturing towards William.

“Good to meet you both,” William greeted back.

“Would you look at that?” Kelso said in amazement.

“Yeah, man. I’m half black,” Hyde state proudly. “Kinda puts all the pieces together doesn’t it?”

“Hey, I’m gonna have a kid soon. I wonder if he’s going to come out half black.”

“Is the mother black?” William asked.

“No,” Kelso answered. William just stood there blinking at him, wondering how the hell someone would breed with him.

“Alright, Kelso, Foreign Kid, go home,” Red said and forced the two kids out of the home.

“But, we didn’t get a chance to talk more!” Fez argued.

“Don’t care,” Red shot back and shut the door in their faces.

“Eric, c’mon you promised you’d come with me to the feminist rally tonight,” Donna said, entering through the kitchen and noticed William. “Oh…hi.”

“Donna, this is Steven’s father, William Barnette. Mr. Barnette, this is Donna, Eric’s girlfriend,” Kitty said.

“Wow,” was all Donna could say.

“Yes, I’m Steven’s father and I am black. And that’s okay,” he replied enthusiastic, yet sarcastic.

“Whoa, Donna, do not flip out on the man just because of the color of his skin,” Eric said, raising his voice exaggerated. Clearly, he was trying to show William that he was indeed, not racist. All Y/N could do was shake her head at her stupid twin.

“I’m not like that,” Donna hissed at Eric and looked back at William. “I’m not like that.”

“Okay, Donna let’s just go,” Eric said, pushing Donna out the room. “And in the car we can have a little talk about how hurtful preconceived notions can be.”

Y/N was able to make eye contact with Eric and mouthed “dumbass” as he walked out the door. But not before shooting a glare in her direction.

“Steven this is so exciting!” Y/N said once she turned her attention back to Steven.

“I know, I met my dad,” he beamed.

“Yeah and he’s nothing like Bud. He actually is doing extremely well for himself!” Y/N commented.

“Wait, what do you mean by that?” William asked and Y/N’s heart stopped, thinking she offended him.

“Well, when your secretary put me on hold, I heard music,” Kitty defended. “And I thought, ‘Now this is a guy who can afford a thing or two.”

“I see,” William said calmly. “So, you knew I had money before inviting me here?”

“Is that supposed to mean something?” Red asked, furrowing his brows.

“I don’t know,” he answered and turned back to his son. “Why don’t you tell me, Steven?”

“What are you talking about?” Hyde asked, his face scrunching up.

“Well, I mean, we don’t have to play games. If it’s money you’re after, I can give it to you.”

Hyde felt like he had just gotten punched in the chest. “Is that who you think I am?” He turned his back on William. “I’ll see you guys later.” He suddenly stopped and turned back around. “No, you know what?”

“Steven,” Y/N warned.

“I didn’t need anything from him growing up and I certainly don’t need anything from him now,” he said angrily and stormed off.

“That was incredibly rude of you,” Y/N spat without thinking. “How could you think that of him?”

“Look at this place,” William said. “Glass grapes, pizza rolls, an organ…it’s like Carnegie hall. What was I supposed to think?”

“You’re supposed to look at me and think that I raised two fine young men,” Red barked. “Even though one of them is at a feminist rally.”

“Mr. Barnette, you are wrong about Steven,” Kitty said, her voice wavering. “Steven is perfect. I think you should go.”

“I agree,” he said and started heading for the door. “I hope this doesn’t discourage you from inviting a second black person into your home.”

Upon hearing this, Y/N’s blood was boiling and before she knew what she was doing, she screamed, “You motherfu—!”

Kitty slammed the door shut before William could hear the rest of that sentence.

“Y/N!” Kitty and Red yelled.

--Time Skip—

“I’m so mad at him,” Y/N said later that afternoon as her and Steven sat around the circle with everyone, except for Eric and Donna who were still at the rally. “I mean, thinking you wanted something from him.”

“Look, if I was in his place, I’d probably think the same thing, you know? I just wanted to meet the guy and find out if he looked like I imagined,” he answered. “By the way, no.”

“Well, who needs a father anyway?” Jackie asked. “You know what? I’ve been doing just fine since my dad disappeared in the jungle to bring freedom to the natives.”

“Jackie, your father just got out of prison for embezzling 60,000 dollars from the city,” Y/N deadpanned.

“I’m pretty, don’t contradict me,” she snapped.

“Well, it’s whatever anyways,” Hyde said, taking the last hit of the blunt and putting it out. “It’s not like I’m going to see the guy again anyway.”

“Really?” Y/N asked him. “Why do you say that?”

“That’s just how things usually go for me,” Hyde answered so causally that it threw Y/N for a loop. “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like I knew him for a long time anyway.”

“Aw, I’m sorry baby,” Y/N cooed and kissed his cheek.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to this,” Michael said, making a face. “It seems so unnatural.”

“Well, you better because this isn’t stopping any time soon,” Y/N replied and sat on Hyde’s lap. He laid his hand on her hip and squeezed gently.

“So, this is the real deal between you two?” Jackie asked. “You’re not just doing it?”

“Not anymore,” Y/N answered. “It’s a little bit more serious than that now.”

“That’s right, man,” Hyde said and tugged her tighter to him. “I’m no longer a lone bachelor. Found myself a real woman this time.”

“Yeah, right,” Kelso laughed dumbly and the couple made a face at him. “The only time a guy does that is if--” he stopped suddenly and suddenly, a huge mocking grin broke out onto his face. “You love her!”

“Wait, is that true?” Jackie asked.

“Yeah, man! You totally loooovveee her!” Kelso teased. “Admit it!”

“I don’t hear him denying it!” Fez called out.

Kelso leaned over to Fez and they started doing kissy faces at each other while everyone either chuckled or stared at them like they were the worlds biggest idiots.

“Kelso, what the hell are you doing?” Hyde asked annoyed.

“I don’t know, but it’s funny,” Kelso said and continued making kissy noises.

“Okay, enough,” Y/N laughed. “Maybe we do, maybe we don’t. I don’t why you guys would make fun of him anyway. It’s not like he does this a lot...Jackie.”

“Well, hey!” she defended. “Don’t bring me into the mix! I think it’s great that Steven is in love.”

“Will you all just shut up?” Hyde asked. “So what if I am?”

“C’mon man, you’re Steven Hyde!” Kelso argued. “Steven Hyde doesn’t fall in love!”

“Well, I did, now shut the hell up!” Hyde raised his voice. “I don’t want to hear another peep out of you!”

“No, really,” Jackie said seriously. “This is great. If you had to fall in love with anyone, I’m Y/N is the one you did.”

Y/N smiled. “Thank you, Jackie. That’s really sweet of you.”

“See, I have a sweet side.”

“Seeing you two be this way is like throwing your relationship in my face,” Fez whined.

“Shut up, Fez,” Hyde snapped.

“I will NOT!” Fez shouted dramatically, looking at Jackie.

“Fez, please,” Jackie pleaded. “Not here.”

“KELSO!” Red boomed from upstairs, shutting up Fez and Jackie.

Y/N flew off Hyde’s lap and landed on the couch next to Jackie. Red stomped down the stairs while a frightened Kelso sat frozen in the lawn chair.

“What the hell is a girl calling for you at my house?” he shouted.

“I don’t know,” Kelso responded. “I’m a beautiful man. Maybe they found out where I stay and need some Kelso lovin’.”

Red glared at him and pointed upstairs. “Go before I hang up on her.”

“Yes, sir,” Kelso stuttered and bolted up the stairs, but stopped before he got to the top. “Do you know who it is?”

“Some girl named Brooke.”

“Oh, my God,” he said under his breath and sprinted to the phone.

The gang looked at each other before they ran up the stairs to join Kelso in the kitchen.

“Brooke?” Kelso asked, picking up the phone. “Brooke, you there?”

They gathered around Kelso, watching and listening intently.

“What?” he asked. “Your water broke? What does that mean?” A second of silence. “Oh, that’s disgusting! No, why would you tell me that?”

Everyone stared at each other wide eyed as they watched their lovable, dopey friend try to comprehend that the baby was coming.

“Oh, geez!” Kelso said finally after it clicked. “Okay! I’m on my way!” He hung up the phone and turned to the group with a huge grin spread across his face. “This is it! I’m having my baby!”

Y/N and Jackie cheered while Fez hugged him.

“Go get ‘em buddy!” Fez cheered and everyone watched as Kelso ran out the back door.

“Oh, this is so exciting!” Y/N asked.

“We’re all going to be aunts and uncles!” Jackie cried out.

Fez looked at her adoring as she smiled and hollered from excitement. God, he missed her, but he wanted to try to go back to some normalcy because he’d rather have her as a friend, than not in it at all.

“Steven,” Kitty called out as she walked through the kitchen door. “Your father is here and wants to talk to you.”

Steven’s smile dropped and knitted his eyebrows. “What for?”

“I think he’s here to apologize,” she whispers excitedly.

He sighed heavily and strutted out to the living room to meet William standing by the couch. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he sighed and took a step closer. “I was wondering if we could try this again?”

“Yeah, because it went so well the first time,” Hyde sneered.

“I’m sorry about that,” William said. “You see, the thing is if I grew up with nothing and I found out I had a dad with money, I would think that maybe he owed me something.”

“Well, that’s not me.”

“I know, but when we first met, I thought I saw myself in you.”

“I can see that,” Hyde said, smiling.

“You and me,” William said, moving his hands in the air. “It’s like looking in a mirror.”

Steven smiled gently. “You wanna get a beer or something?”

William nodded. “I can get you into places you’ve probably never been to.”

“Oh, like that cool jazz club off the highway?”

“No, like country clubs and fancy restaurants,” William laughed. “I’m rich as hell, man!”

“Everything okay over here, Steven?” Kitty asked, entering the the living room with Y/N and Red following closely behind her.

“Yeah, everything is fine.” Hyde said and for the first time in a while, he meant it.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” Y/N said, wringing her hands and stepping forward. “Listen, um, I’m really sorry about earlier.”

William held up a hand, shaking his head kindly. “No worries. I would be proud to have a girlfriend like you. Steven’s very lucky.”

“Oh, I’m not his girlfriend,” she said. “We’re just really, really, close. Best friends, .

“Really?” William asked. “I’ve never seen someone get so defensive when they weren’t.” The look he gave her proved that he didn’t believe a word she said, but didn’t want to push it.

Little did Y/N and Steven know, Kitty and Red had exchanged a glance at each other, taking note. They weren’t stupid; They noticed the way Steven and Y/N would look at each other sometimes, but they trusted the kids. They knew they wouldn’t do anything while at least still living under the roof of their house. It was probably some silly crush anyways.

Hyde chuckled uncomfortably. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean to make anyone uncomfortable,” he defended, putting his hands up in surrender. “I was just telling the truth.”

“Yeah, I know,” Hyde said and pushed William out the door, while grabbing his own coat off the rack by the door. “See you guys later.”

As Steven closed the door, he winked at Y/N and walked out with his dad. Y/N turned around to face her parents; Red and Kitty giving her a questioning look.

“What?” Y/N asked.

“You have any idea what that was about?” Red asked.

Y/N shook her head, eyes wide and puffed out cheeks. “Beats me.”

Red and Kitty shared a look. “We’ve had this discussion before,” he continued. “When we brought that boy in, we warned the both of you that there will be no funny business in my house. He was forbidden to try anything with you. So, if there is anything going on between you two, you better fess up now.”

“There’s nothing going on between us,” Y/N lied blatantly. She felt bad because she’s never lied to her parents before, but she didn’t want to risk anything that she had with Steven.

They looked at each other before looking at their daughter. They believed her, for the most part, but they couldn’t deny that they at least had a crush on each other.

Red held up a finger at her. “If I find out that there’s anything going on between you two, and you lied to me about it, he’s going to be out on the street and I’ll make sure that you never see that boy again.”

“Okay, that’s a little extreme,” Y/N tried to say as calmly as possible. “What—you don’t like Steven or something?”

“No, honey, it’s not that we don’t like him—we love him in fact—it’s just that, we think you could do better,” Kitty said gently.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/N asked, crossing her arms and shifting her weight to one foot. She probably knew she was giving her cover away, but she really needed to know what they meant.

“He’s a troubled young man,” Kitty started. “And while he’s here so he doesn’t have to have deal with all those troubles anymore, he’s still going through problems and if you two end up together, he’s just going to bring you down with him.”

“How can you guys say that?” Y/N asked, getting angry. “You’ve even said it yourself that he’s a good kid. Mom, you’ve said that he deserves a good girl; someone who is good enough for him that could treat him better. Love him like he deserves. Are you saying that I can’t be that girl?”

“No, honey, no, it’s just that…. we worry. And we fear that you will have a lot of problems. We just don’t want you to get hurt,” she said.

“Why do you care?” Red asked, eyeing Y/N up and down.

“I don’t,” Y/N quickly recovered. “I just feel a little insulted that if I chose to be with Steven or someone like Steven, I shouldn’t be with him because of his past. If I had a past and no guy would want me, how would that look?”

Her parents were quiet for a moment.

“I guess I see your point,” Kitty said, looking at Red.

“You make a good point,” Red said and smiled. “You should be a lawyer.”

“That’s a nice way of calling me a bitch,” Y/N said and smiled back.

“Now, what kind of parents would we be if we straight up said that?” Kitty asked and laughed her way into the kitchen.

Red laughed and followed her.

“Wait a minute,” Y/N said and made her way into the kitchen.

--Time Skip—

Y/N sat on Hyde’s lap, devouring his lips in his room later that night. Not that he was complaining. She wanted him, all of him. He was still wearing his nice shirt from earlier in the day and she made her hands down his chest to start unbuttoning it. He leaned forward and ripped it off, throwing it on the floor; leaving him in a white t-shirt. She bit his lip, earning a moan from him, which turned her on even more.

She ripped off her shirt, leaving her in her bra and skirt. She quickly dropped her hands to his belt buckle and fumbled with it, trying to unbuckle it, but failed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Hyde said gently and grabbed her hands. “What’s the rush?”

“There’s no rush,” Y/N said and crushed her lips against his. “I just need you. Right now.”

“Y/N,” Hyde said firmly and nudged her forward, making her look at him. “I want you too, but you’re not acting like yourself. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” she stated and fiddled with the v-line on his shirt. “Just fine.”

“Yeah, now I know you’re lying to me,” he said and adjusted himself to sit up higher and leaned against the shelf behind him. “Talk to me.”

Y/N inhaled deeply before looking at him. “My family is on to us. My parents asked me if there is anything between us and if they find out that we’re lying, you’re out of the house and I’ll never get to see you again.”

“Oh,” he sighed. He wasn’t expecting that. “Yeah, your brother has been asking me the same thing.”

“I know,” she said and sniffed, tears threatening to surface. “And apparently we shouldn’t even be together if we are because you’re troubled and even though you’re a great kid, we would have a life of heartbreak together.”

If Steven were being honest, his heart broke a little. Here he was, sitting with a girl he actually loved, whose family loved him, and for the first time was actually happy, and hearing this would make any guy’s heart sting. But he didn’t want to crumble in front of her. He knew that the Formans loved him very much, but he being with Y/N could change all that.

He brought a hand up and gently held her face, his thumb caressing her cheek. “Listen, I don’t care what they say, okay? For the first time in my life, I actually love a girl who isn’t my mom or Mrs. Forman.” Y/N chuckled at that and Hyde smiled. “And someone I know that isn’t going to bail on me. I will do anything I can to keep this going. And I promise that I’m not going to fail you. If we do stay together, I promise I will do everything in my power to not let you feel heartbroken.” He brought her forehead down to his and he could feel her hot breath fan over his swollen lips. “I won’t allow it. Just…please don’t give up on me.”

Now the tears were cascading down her face, wetting his palm. “Never. Please don’t let my family get to you to where you run off. Just don’t leave me. I don’t think I’d be able to bear it.”

He shook his head, fighting the tears himself. What was wrong with him? Just because he loved a girl meant that he could be a little bitch now? No, he was a man dammit. But damn if he didn’t love this girl.

“Never, okay? You promised me and now I promise you.” He slid his hand up to her hair and tugged her down, kissing her. “Believe me when I say that, okay?”

She nodded. “We need to be more careful,” she said as he peppered her neck with kisses.

“Mhm hmm,” he hummed. “We’ll just be more discreet about it.” He bit down on her neck and she moaned.

“Starting with being quieter during ‘our time’,” he said, smirking. “Especially when I do this.” His hand left her face and trailed up her skirt, rubbing her, feeling how soaked she was.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and threw her head back. She was about to let out another loud whimper when Hyde’s hand grabbed her mouth, shushing her.

Her eyes widened and that’s when she realized she had another kink; being dominated and being forced to be quiet. He chuckled in her ear as flipped her over and made her feel so good that she completely forgot why she was even worried in the first place.

Two and a half hours later…

Y/N and Hyde were getting dressed after they finished…twice. Y/N was sore, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it. Steven had thrown on his jeans unbuttoned and his now white t-shirt wrinkled. Y/N buttoned up her shirt haphazardly and uneven. Her sex crazed hair and her skirt on backwards.

“I love that post sex look on you,” Hyde said roughly and placed his hands on her hips.

“Yeah?” she asked, smiling widely.

“Oh, yeah,” he said lowly and brought her back in for a slow, tender kiss. “I love seeing that I did that and love the idea of corrupting you.”

Y/N hummed. “I love you corrupting me,” she growled and started nipping his neck. “I love making those dirty sounds come out of your mouth.”

“Keep that up and we’ll being going for round three and four,” he said, his head lulled back as she continued leaving love bites. “Or five or six…”

“Mhm, later,” she said and pulled away and saw the now-tent in his pants. She giggled. “But we have plans with everyone at the Hub, so we need to go.”

“Screw everyone,” he said and pulled her closer. “We can stay here all night and keep doing this.”

She laughed. “As much as I love that, we need to go. Otherwise, it will look suspicious and Eric will find out. I’m going to go upstairs and change panties. I think you ripped them.”

“Oh, I did,” he chuckled.

“Dirty boy,” she said under her breath and kissed him once last time. “But seriously, we need to change because we smell like sex.”

“I can help,” he said and laughed as she walked out the room, still fixing her skirt.

As they walked out the room, they saw Eric standing there, wide eyed and in complete shock.

Who had heard the whole conversation.

Taglist: @lieswithoutfairytales @mdittyz123

#that 70s show #That '70s Show #that 70's show fanfic #Steven Hyde #steven hyde x reader #Eric Forman #kitty forman #red forman #donna pinciotti #fez x jackie #jackie x hyde #jackie burkhart #michael kelso

227 notes · View notes

sk-lumen · 3 years

Note

Need serious advice about setting boundaries or communicating when dealing with a person who:

Is a parent

Has unhealthy communication methods -- it takes very little for them to start full-blown screaming, shouting out all your 'negative' things/mistakes/past, can continue to scream-criticise you even after you've gone silent, for WHOLE MINUTES even if you've shut up, will not accept anything that even hints at them making a mistake

You can't trust since childhood coz u made the mistake of confiding in them with a serious issue as a young teen --- mental related --- and they belittled and invalidated you, and since then pretended you never confided in them and have NO IDEA how you've been coping without them or ANYone else for years... Yeah thanks, parent, what u said back then made me think I was the one at fault and so I stopped trusting even friends coz yeah, when ur own parent doesn't give a damn, why would anyone else?

Is a master at silent treatments without explaining what EXACTLY they're punishing you for, then when theyre in the mood, will start talking to you as if they hadn't ignored you for days. Lol I'd rather be water boarded I think. Especially for all the damage this caused when I was a child

Won't openly talk about what they want, yet expects ALL FHE TIME others (in the family) to know what they want, then will complain/scream/angry for AGES about how no one cares, no one gives a damn... And when someone asks them what they want, they either say: nothing, or "you should know! Can't u see?"

Upon asking them to please talk normally, will blow a fuse, and lose it --- happened multiple times today

Literally will use me as a scape goat to unleash their frustrations upon. Even when I leave the room, I can hear them b*tch about how much of a failure I am etc. The trigger being anything that bothers them, from a phone call to something other siblings did, bla bla. I limit my time with them... But it's like, it feels impossible to have them treat me normally, without ridiculing or criticising me. I'm already a very low self esteem person... This doesn't help AT ALL

In short, refuse to tell/ask/discuss important stuff, and getting mad randomly that no one read their mind, bcoz everyone's 'old enough to have enough sense' to know what they 'should' do... Eg will not pikc up the phone when we call them from the store to ask when what the needed isn't available, so what other alternative can we get... And then when we get home, will instead blame us for being fussy and not getting the alternative, completelt skirting around the issue they didn't deign to pick up the phone... I mean, I don't get it. In the past I HAVE in fact asked them to just openly tell me what they want/expect from me to make them happy... Got passive aggressive answers like "don't you know? Are you dumb?" Bla bla

Passive aggressive to the max when they've lost it

Expect me to drop anything I'm doing and immediately cater to them, and expect me to help them in their hobbies (while simultaneously, as I learned many years ago to much heartache, not being interested or even pretending to be interested in my hobbies. The disinterest taught me very quickly how much what I wanted meant, leading to years of self-invalidation. Luckily I've learned it really is them, not me. My hobbies are valid)

Will not talk about why they're feeling angry, what causes it. Instead will blame me, who's like the golden scapegoat in our amazing family, by saying :YOU made me negative. They've said it many times now... It hurts a lot, when I'm also struggling with my own issues which I ofc can't confide in them about :)

Today I manned up -- the outburst of hatred happened again! Over a simple thing. It was NIGHTMARE and made me angry/sad/frustrated/triggered---, and so I told them to stop talking like that... Boy was that the wrong thing to say... I don't think I can accurately tell u what happened afterwards...

Usually children learn communication skills from the parents... I at least learned to recognize the unhealthy ones, and what NOT to communicate like lol. Like, other parent is even worse, believe it or not. But that's another complex situation

I'm not bashing on the parent. Lord knows I even have that much of a right huh? I hate myself eveb more when they invalidate me if I try to show how MUCH THEY HURT me after a 'communication session'. As in, heaven forbid me if I BE SILENT afterwards and DON'T wanna listen to their retardation. Nope. Even then they provoke me, rage at me, you know how sometimes enraged people hiss vitriol thru gritted teeth? Yeah, that's what they did today after I stayed silent and tried to ignore them an hour later after the 'session' when they wabted something. It's like they don't even need me to say a word and will carry on and on for minutes 🤢

I feel alone, helpless and at a loss what to do

I want to move out. Due to severe mental issues I can't even move out rn coz it scares me even more. But this has to stop. Things are only okay if I'm absolutely passive, say yes to whatever they want, kill my wants and needs, and become a perfect robot bred to cater to them (parent)

I hope you can help me out, dear

Hi darling,

It sounds like you’re in a considerably toxic environment. I'm sorry you're going through this. Know that this is not normal, nor is it how a parent/child relationship should be. In case there's any doubt, let me start by saying you deserve to be supported, respected, listened to, to have your needs met. You deserve to live in an environment that offers you all of these things.

With that being said, from the many scenarios you’ve mentioned you’ve already tried reasoning and setting boundaries, to no avail. There is only so much you can do on your own, if the other person in the equation is not meeting halfway or at all. After all, a healthy conversation involves two people, not just one.

Here's my advice, in this order:

Calmly and maturely asking the respective parent to have a serious discussion with you and to listen to what you have to say. Share how their actions and behaviour is making you feel, let them know you care, and make sure to mention several solutions for the issue as well. If this doesn’t work…

Bring up the subject of needing help from outside, such as the assistance of a specialist/therapist. Family counselling can shed a lot of light on toxic behaviours that are ingrained from childhood (both in their case and yours), on fears your parent may have, stress from their work, whatever is causing their outbursts and anger - because there is always a reason. Behind anger is sadness, and behind sadness is some need not being met, or an underlying fear, trauma, etc. This is not a justification for their behaviour, they are responsible for it; this is simply the fact of how energy dynamics work. People bottle up their frustrations, fears, etc, and let them out on those closest to them, to whom they feel superior. It’s not fair, and it’s not healthy, but it is frequently how this pattern works. If this solution doesn’t work either…

Then unfortunately, all you can do is focus on yourself. If they refuse to meet you anywhere along the road, you have to pack up your things and go your own way. Literally or metaphorically. They may be your parent and you may love them even in spite of their behaviour, but you cannot hold yourself responsible for anything they say or do; that is on them. In those cases, you have to prioritize your own mental health and wellbeing, and focus on moving out. If your (home) environment is toxic, you have to focus on first changing it. That’s vital. Only afterwards can you start healing, refinding yourself, reclaiming your self-esteem and confidence, your sense of worth. As long as you stay stuck in a toxic environment, you cannot really heal; if there is abuse of any kind (physical, mental, emotional), the causes are still there, leading to re-traumatizing.

If for whatever reason moving out is not (yet) an option, I would emphasize seeking some sort of counselling for yourself, if nothing else. You need an anchor, some sort of support that will help you along your path until you do get out.

Now, I don’t know how old you are. I am going to assume you are over 18 and of age, so only mind my advice if that is the case. (As disclaimer, I don't provide advice to minors as it's not the scope of my blog nor am I specialized/focused on that area.)

I understand moving out seems scary because it is unknown, but with that line of thought you may wait another 10 years in the same situation. Wouldn’t you wake up 10 years later already having done the hard work on moving out, finding your independence, claiming your sense of individuality and moving on from this sort of environment, this phase in your life?

Sooner is better than later, but do so with mindfulness and care over your mental health, of course. I know it’s scary. But being an adult requires some difficult decisions at times, and setting boundaries begins with choosing your wellbeing and doing what needs to be done, even if it is something uncomfortable short-term, but highly rewarding and beneficial long-term.

Hope this helps... and wishing you much luck, clarity, gentle guidance and comfort.✨

PS: Lately I've been receiving longer and longer letters in my inbox. As solution, I was thinking of having longer asks/letters redirected to my blog where there isn't any length limit, and readers can more comfortably browse both my tumblr and blog - and those requesting advice can share and receive a more in-depth response.

-Lumen

#mental health #toxic relationship #toxic environment #boundaries #parenthood #ask #tw? not sure what to tag just in case #tw: swearing #tw: mental health #tw: anxiety

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makeste · 4 years

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I just wanna enable you to talk more about Katsuki so. top 5 (or 10, or however many you feel like) Bakugou romantic ships? not like number 1 will be a surprise but hey ;p

ah, shipping. the perfect topic with which to take a breather from leg puns and the quirkless!Bakugou debate. nothing controversial about ships lmao.

disclaimer: these are literally just my favorite Bakugou ships, as asked. I have few to no NOTPs, and I’m not anti-anything, nor do I have any opinions on whether or not any of these will or should become canon (as it really makes no difference to me, since I ship them all platonically as well). basically I have no skin in the “shipping somehow has winners and losers” game. I’m just here for the emotional energy and the lulz and the character development.

anyways this is a top six because I couldn’t bear to leave either of my two favorite rarepairs out whoops.

BakuDeku - like you said anon, not a surprise lol. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; for me, these two are the core of the series. honestly it sometimes strikes me as ironic that this ship is so often written off as abusive or unhealthy or toxic, because I often find myself thinking that roughly 90% of all of Bakugou and Deku’s problems could be sorted out just by them communicating with each other. and I don’t mean just their own specific relationship problems -- I mean all of their problems. Bakugou is having an emotional crisis about something? have him talk to Deku. Deku’s overwhelmed by a problem and way overthinking it? have him talk to Bakugou! they balance each other out, is the thing. when one of them veers off course, the other is the compass to steer them back on track. that’s the power of rivals!! and aside from that, this relationship is just so complex, and I am weak for absolutely all of it. it’s just this perfect blend of push and pull and friction and trust. it’s the type of ship where the two of them have such a strong connection that it’s like gravity; they can’t help but orbit the other, even when that orbit is sometimes unsteady. it’s just such a powerful bond and just... guh. I have way too many emotions about it so I am just going to STOP NOW and move on to the next ship.

TodoBaku - so by now we have reached a point where pretty much everyone in class 1-A is an expert on handling Bakugou, and ngl, it’s my favorite thing ever. but what makes the TodoBaku relationship so especially appealing is that Shouto is completely unafraid to just step right up and declare his friendship to the entire world. Todoroki “I’m calling it like it is” Shouto, who, after giving the matter careful consideration, correctly judged himself and Bakugou to be the closest of friends, and thus decided that they should intern together and he should introduce him to his family and get his sister to cook his favorite foods. and the entire time, Bakugou is all “please no one listen to this delusional freak, we are not friends at all,” even as he proceeds to get himself involved in all of the Todoroki family drama, and saves Shouto’s brother’s life, and learns all of his sister’s recipes, and presumably cries himself to sleep at night wondering how he could have let this happen.

Kacchako - what I like about Ochako’s relationship with Katsuki is that she’s one of the few people who’s not afraid to call him out on his shit. she’s not just warmly tolerant of him like some of the others; she has expectations of him, and will unabashedly express her sound disappointment if he fails to be the person she knows he’s capable of being. I feel like Ochako has no patience for him taking his sweet time with his character development, and is just “goddammit young man, just sort your shit out with Deku already and go back to being best friends like you both so clearly want, and while you’re at it please try to treat other people less like garbage”, and various other things that are all true but that he of course hates to hear, but TOO BAD lol. anyway so I love that, and I love that she’s just as stubborn as he is. and I also love that there’s genuine, mutual respect between the two of them as well. never forget that Katsuki is the one who first brought out Ochako’s homicidal badass side. anyway so they basically complement each other very well, and I have my fingers crossed that one of these days Horikoshi will decide to actually have them interact with each other again because damn.

KiriBaku - Kirishima, on the other hand, is warmly tolerant of Bakugou, and openly admiring of him even, but it tends to be in a way that brings out Bakugou’s best qualities. Kiri just has this way of bringing out Bakugou’s confidence in himself. like, he’s very good at saying precisely the right words to make Bakugou grin that smirky little grin of his, the one that’s all “oh yeah, that’s right, I’m a badass.” and seeing as Bakugou, for all his pride and bluster, is surprisingly prone to having mini crises of confidence, this is a valued skill that I’m very grateful to Kiri for having! and what’s nice is that Bakugou is very good at returning the favor, since Kiri is prone to crises of confidence as well. the little flashback right before Kiri unveils Unbreakable for the first time is one of my favorite moments in the series. when this ship is firing on all cylinders they really bring out the best in each other. and also they are both dumb bros which is an extremely undervalued dynamic. I love it when Bakugou is all “HEY KIRISHIMA LET ME BLOW YOU UP A BIT” and Kiri is just like “YEAHHHH!” heh.

KamiBaku - and now for the first of the two rarepairs! first of all I would just like to state that I absolutely cannot fathom why KamiBaku is a rarepair to begin with, unless it’s simply because everyone is already too obsessed with the previously mentioned ships. but at any rate it’s a damn shame, because the cuteness of this ship is off the fucking charts, and right now it’s all just going to waste. what I adore more than anything about this ship is the way Bakugou tolerates every single fucking thing Kaminari does and LETS HIM GET AWAY WITH IT. he lets him call him “Kacchan.” he lets Kaminari manhandle him into various getups (the A Band shirt; the Santa outfit) on multiple occasions while putting up absolutely no fight. he basically allows him an almost unprecedented level of closeness, which Kaminari proceeds to BLATANTLY TAKE ADVANTAGE OF at every turn seemingly unchecked! and he is the all time champ at tricking Bakugou into participating in social interactions (tying the ribbon to his foot during the Christmas gift exchange, telling him he won’t get any food at the New Year’s feast if he doesn’t help cook, etc.). he just loves him and wants him to be included. honestly this one of the most adorable relationships in the entire goddamn series and I am tired of it being slept on. the people deserve more KamiBaku dammit.

IidaBaku - last but not least, a relationship between two people who I’m pretty sure have only actually interacted with each other a handful of times, and most of those times involved them shouting at each other! ah, yes. the stick in the mud and the delinquent. god’s natural enemies. except that in this case the “delinquent” is a star student who tutors other kids and goes to bed every night at 8:30, and the stick in the mud once hatched a legitimate plot to kill a man. what I am trying to say is that these two are actually WAY more alike than they would ever care to admit, and I’m kind of obsessed with it?? this is one of those ships where all it would take is one well-applied trope and the possibilities are endless. you could literally just pick one out of a hat. fake dating, roommates, only one bed, undercover as lovers, WHATEVER. and not only does this have the potential to be the most hilarious ship in the history of time, but it also has potential to be disarmingly, shockingly sweet, I shit you not. there are a couple of little moments in the light novels that I absolutely adore, where they’re each taking care of the other with the other having absolutely no idea. Iida makes about four attempts to tuck Bakugou in during the forest training camp arc because his covers have fallen off and he doesn’t want him to catch a chill, and Bakugou unknowingly returns the favor by preventing Iida from stumbling across the preparations for his own surprise birthday party before the others are finished getting ready. by shoving Iida into an elevator and ordering him to go back to his room with absolutely no explanation given lmao. anyway, but the point is the potential is definitely there for cuteness and chemistry and mutual respect while arguing nonstop like an old married couple.

so there you go! honestly Bakugou somehow has chemistry with just about everyone in his class, which is super impressive for someone with the personality of a rabid wolf spider. god bless him.

#bakugou katsuki #bakudeku #todobaku #kacchako #kiribaku #kamibaku #iidabaku #bnha meta #bakugou meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #anon asks

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rainydayhogwartsimagines · 4 years

Note

Perhaps a scene of Fred x reader sending off their child/children at platform 9 and 3/4

Maybe while seeing things that remind them of their Hogwarts time? (E.g first day, big prank, tearful summer holiday goodbye, etc.)

Thanks!

You grabbed the bags and put them in the car. "Excited Orion?" You asked your son. "Totally! I can't wait to see Rose and Freddie!" He said practically bouncing as he spoke. You smiled and Fred chuckled. "Reminds me of how I used to be before coming to school." Fred said. You smirked. "You? Excited for school?" You teased. "I was more excited to see a certain girl at school than actually going to school." He said making you smile. Orion gagged in response. "Ew. Dad. I'm still here." He said making you laugh. "Alright you two, in the car." You said. You drove and it reminded you of the car rides you used to have.

"Dad... Do you think I'll fit in?" You asked your father who used to go to Hogwarts. "Absolutely. Hogwarts has a place for everyone sweetheart." He told you. You smiled and looked out the windows. You were so small the world seemed like it was fit for giants. Fred was the opposite though. He was excited his first year to go to school, after all he was going with his best friend and brother. He was so ready for this. Yes. The world right now seemed huge compared to him and his brother. But damn it, that's a world to be explored.

"And do try to avoid trouble, God knows your dad got into enough while were there." You said as you wheeled his suitcase to the platform. "If I recall this correctly-- which I know I am-- you were just as bad." Fred said with a smile. You rolled your eyes and Orion snickered. "I won't... Ish." "Orion." "I won't..." He was clearly lying. You sighed and you all ran through the wall. The steam hit you and you coughed a couple of times. Time seemed to rewind as you stared at your surroundings.

"What do I do once I'm on the train papa?" You asked. "you try to make friends. Don't worry doll, you'll be just fine." He assured you. His confidence seemed to make you brave as you walked over to the door, waiting for it to open. A boy stood next to you and you looked over at the brown eyes that met yours. "Hi." You said. "I'm Fred." He introduced. "And I'm George." Someone said on the other side of you making you jump. Fred smiled and you looked at the two of them. "Twins... Fascinating. My mum's a twin." You said. "Identical?" Both of them asked in unison. "Yep. Makes it difficult but I can always tell who's who." You said in "a matter of fact" tone. Fred smirked. "Wanna sit with us?" He asked. "Sure." You nodded. "We'll warn you in advance. We do pranks." George said. "So do I. In factttt--" "Y/N! DID YOU JUST PUT AN EXPLODING INK PEN IN MY BAG!?" The train doors opened and you booked it onto the train. Fred and George exchanged a look. "Brilliant! How'd you do it?" George asked. "You have to mess with the ink a little but it's not hard to do. Come on, we'll find a cart and I'll show you" you said with a smile. The boys followed you and you sat with them

Fred dusted off Orion's shirt and roughed up his hair a little. "I'll miss you kid." He said. Orion hugged Fred. "I'll miss you too Dad." He said. Orion pulled away and hugged you too. "Orion!" Rose called, waving to her cousin. You smiled at Ron and Hermione who were waving and walking over. "Hey guys!" You greeted, hugging your brother in law. Hermione hugged you soon after and you watched your kids talk before another boy ran over. "He's here." Fred said with a chuckle. "Damn right I am." A voice said behind you. You all turned around to see George and Angelina. George put an arm around you and Fred looking at the group of kids. "Just like we were hmm?" He asked.

"promise you'll write to us over the summer?" Fred asked you. You smiled and nodded. "I'll miss you guys." You said, hugging both of the boys. They hugged back and you turned to your father who made his way to the platform. You sighed and turned, grabbing your bags. Leaving was always the disappointing part about it all. Your adventures would have to come to a halt, stopping for a few months before you could continue the stories you and the boys made.

You smiled looking at them. "Yeah... Yeah they are." You said with a smile. Another boy with brown hair ran over and your eyes lit up as you turned around. "Ginny!" You squealed seeing your other sister in law. She hugged you and Hermione. "I've missed you all so much. Seriously. I know we meet up every week but Christ... I'm so glad our kids are going off this year." She said, eye twitching slightly. The familiar blue haired boy raced past you and Harry hugged the familiar figure. "Remus is here!" You smiled as he walked over. Tonks hugged you and the girls. "Neville should be showing up soon. All of us must get lunch or something together, we need to talk more." Remus said. You nodded in agreement. Fred smiled looking at the train and then Remus. "what?" You asked. "Remember when he was our professor?" He asked. You chuckled. "God, now he comes over every Christmas... We're old." You whined making Fred laugh. "Our kids are beginning to make us feel that way." Ginny chuckled, holding Lily close to her. "Thinking of having any more?" Harry asked you and Fred. Your eye seemed to twitch. "After raising him with this demon as his father, you really think I can handle more!?" You asked making the group laugh. Draco soon walked through and you waved. Draco rolled his eyes with a laugh as Scorpius beelined to Rose. He walked over. "Potter." He said in a mocking tone. "Malfoy." Harry used the same tone before the boys shared a small hug. "Think Albus will be a seeker this year like his old man?" George asked Harry. "God I hope not." Ginny whined. "Wha-- what's wrong with quidditch?!" Harry asked. "Do you not remember the injuries that came with it!?"

You raced to the medical wing with George. "Madame Pomfrey is he okay!?" You asked frantically, grass across your face along with dirt. "Yes Princess I'm fine." Fred sighed, leaning off the bed. "It was a stray quaffle it's not like I'm you who took a dive bomb for the snitch." Fred said, brushing off some of the dirt on your cheek with his thumb. You blushed at the boy and George flicked his brother upside the head. "Ow!" Fred winced. "Be more careful moron you nearly gave Y/n and I a heart attack." George said. "Aww were you worried?" Fred teased his brother. "Oh piss off." George sighed making you laugh. You sat on the edge of the bed and Fred smiled at you. "What?" You asked. "Thanks for worrying Y/n..." He said. "That's what friends do right?" You said looking away.

"remember when Fred took a stray quaffle to the head!?" Ginny reminded. Everyone winced in remembrance. "Yeaaahhh probably not the best plan" a voice said making you all turn. "Neville! Look at you, looking all... Professional!" George said making you laugh. "Why thank you George." Neville said tipping a fake hat to the man making you laugh. "first year of teaching and you're dealing with our kids... Good luck." Fred said. "I'm probably going to need it for Fred and Orion." Neville said already looking exhausted by the thought. "Wait till they're old enough and they have to take that stupid dance class... Then you'll really hate them." Angelina said making you all laugh

"Fred I swear to God if you whisper in my ear again I'm going to punch you in the balls." You grumbled. "Why, does it make you flustered?" He asked with that smirk that he knew drove you crazy. "...Shut up." You grumbled. He smiled and swayed to the beat of the tune. "You know Y/n... I was thinking--" "You can think?" You asked. "Shh. I was thinking that you and I could go to the Yule ball together." He suggested. You blushed. "As what exactly Weasley?" You asked. He pulled you closer to his face. "Oh you know Princess." He said in your ear. "OKAY OKAY FINE!" you said moving back. "Hmm?" He asked, people staring now. "YOU WIN. I LIKE YOU YOU FUCKING MORON." you snapped. He chuckled and moved towards you. "I know. Now can we fix that situation and let me date you or are we going to pretend nothing's there?" He asked. You sighed and he smiled. "I like you too Y/n, is that what you wanted to hear?" He asker. "Maybe." You grumbled. He shook his head with a laugh and put his fingers on your chin, kissing you.

"I mean... The class wasn't... So bad." You coughed out making them all giggle like school girls. "You're just saying that because that's when Fred FINALLY asked you out." Hermione said making you smile. "other than that it was hell." Ron griped. "Says the one who danced with Mcgonagall." Fred snickered making Harry snort. "Shut up." He grumbled making you laugh. "We were talking about lunch, wanna all go get something?" Ginny asked. Luna tapped your shoulder and you squealed. "WE HAVE ANOTHER!" you said excitedly ask you hugged her. "Hi Neville!" She waved. He smiled and hugged her and she rose a brow. "What did you mean by we have another?" She asked. "Lunch. You in?" Harry asked. "Definitely!" She nodded. The group all began to wave to their children as they got on the train and you waved to Orion. He smiled waving to Fred and you before Scorpius drug him off. "I should go." Neville waved. "Bye Neville!" The group said in unison before Sirius sprinted.

"RUN JAMES YOU'RE GOING TO MISS THE DAMN TRAIN!" He yelled. His son sprinted on board and you all wheezed as the older wizard walked over with a blonde woman. "Hi Marlene." You wheezed out. "Hi dear!" She said as Sirius was out of breath. "So Y/n, how's the kid?" Sirius finally asked. "Yeah, enough about that, lunch, you guys in?" You asked. "Can't me, Remus, Lily and James are going to lunch later." He said. "And you were telling me when?" Tonks asked. "This is the first I've heard of this?" Remus said confused. "First I want a hug from my Godson." Sirius pointed. Harry walked over and hugged him before seeing the train start to move. "BYE MUM!" Orion shouted. "NEVILLE KEEP HIM OUT OF TROUBLE PLEASE!" you yelled. "I LOVE YOU! DAD!" Orion shouted. "LOVE YOU TOO KID!" Fred yelled back. "WHO WANTS TO SEE BABY PICTURES!?" Fred yelled. "DON'T YOU DARE!" Orion screamed making everyone laugh. You all walked towards the exit as the train disappeared and you turned around one final time.

"Fred wait up!" You whined as you followed him. "It is not my fault that you have small legs!" He said. "It's not my fault I stopped growing when I was in my fifth year asshat!" You grumbled as Fred wrapped his arm around you. George greeted Angelina with a kiss and you smiled. Fred lifted you onto his back and you screamed. "Fred! What the hell are you doing!?" You asked. "You're moving too slow, this is just easier!" He said before walking. "we're going to miss the train if you idiots don't hurry!" George said as you jumped back down. You all ran down the platform.

You smiled and Fred turned back to you. "Whatcha doin'?" He asked. "Just remembering some things." You said with a smile. "Good things I hope." He said. "Always Fred." You smiled. He kissed your forehead and walked hand in hand with you through the wall, catching up with the group, leaving the history of your story within the hidden walls.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley

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oleredacted · 3 years

Text

Hey tumblr, gonna shout into the void.

I feel a bit shit. The past couple years I’ve felt stagnant in all areas of myself, mental health included. I want to feel happy, fit, attractive, coherent, intelligent, talented, etc. I can’t seem to make any progress at all. If I do, I feel like I fuck up and end up at square one.

My time in Málaga and Gran Canaria has made me realised I want to move to Spain asap. I already knew that anyway, but I feel like it would be so much better for me. At the same time… I know that wherever you go, there you are 😉. Obviously meaning, if I move to Spain, I’m still taking a lot of the issues I had here in the UK. However, I feel like there’s more there for me. Even if I go right back into a bar job, there are so many gay bars and it’s so accepting of lgbt+ community and culture.

I’m currently unemployed, by choice LOOOOOOL, cause I’m doing a residency at my uni. That’s been extended till May, but it’s just an opportunity for me to work on my “portfolio”. I don’t feel as passionate about concept or comic art anymore. And some of that is because I felt I wasn’t making progress in that, too. I’ve started to work on my drag which is hopefully the best direction for my art lol. But even that scares me. I’m worried what people will think, but I’m trying to constantly remind myself to not give a fuuuuuuck. Like I’m funny and talented and my skills would be put to use well in drag. But it’s like a LOT of effort, on all parts. As you can probs tell, I’m lacking in energy and effort in general, soooooo.

Also, living situation. Bless my flatmate, but he’s really doing my fucking nut in. Has been doing for a while. As a person he’s not terrible, but he’s really self-centred and arrogant. Also, I hate English teachers lol. Financially, he’s doing better off than I am here: I have a smaller room and he has more than double the storage space in the kitchen. I can never use my exercise stuff on a weekend cause guess who’s here all the time? His mate, who’s been sleeping on our couch since NYE. They’re both so fucking loud and irritating, but that’s a personal gripe. However, he genuinely plays stuff on the highest volume I can hear it anywhere in the flat… through noise cancellation airpods!! Grrr. I could go on but I really cba. Point is, I wanna move out asap.

Oh, but I can’t live anywhere else atm. As in, I can’t stay with either of my parents. I wouldn’t want to, trust me. But they physically don’t have the space for me. Frustrating. Last last resort, they would let me stay, but it wouldn’t be at all comfortable. Ah well, such is life.

I’m not sure where I was going with this- was getting a bit depressing, wasn’t it? I went for a walk with my friend mid typing this and uhh, I kinda feel better for it, but not like amazing. Don’t feel I’ve solved anything, but I do think I have to get started with putting plans to action asap. Trying a month in Gran Canaria, will be scary and a big risk, but how else will I get the pay off? I mean ideally, I’d love to live in Spain. But would I love to live… live, laugh, love. :)

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smoochkooks · 5 years

Text

—make it right 1 (m.)

⟶ pairing: jung hoseok/reader

⟶ genre: smut (coming in second part!), angst, fluff

⟶ word count: 19k+ (this part)

⟶ tags/warnings for part one: hip hop dancer!hoseok/drummer!hoseok, ballerina!reader, enemies to friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slowburn, mutual pinning, sexual tension, course language, drinking, hoseok’s hot bandmates, oc rolling her eyes at hoseok every five seconds, some banter and sarcasm, etc.

⟶ summary: he was a punk, she did ballet, avril lavigne sings, but truth to be told, there’s so much more than meets the eye about jung hoseok besides his drums, killer dancing skills and unexplained hatred for tattoos and piercings. because, under the layers of leather jackets and washed out joy division shirts, he’s still just a boy who tries to find his place in this big world.

or, alternatively: ballerina meets certain hip hop dancer slash musician who’s on a mission to win her heart with coffee dates and drumming lessons.

⟶ read second (and final) part here

The first time you met Jung Hoseok, it was raining.

September had just begun, welcoming the citizens of Seoul with copious amounts of not-so-summer-like weather. And at this point, after three days of non-stopping rainfalls, you were convienced that mother nature was trying to drown the whole city.

It was Saturday afternoon, last remains of August were still in the air, hidden underneath greish clouds covering the whole sky. That didn’t seem to be any problem for the tourists though, emerging from every single corner with smartphones glued to their hands.

You were running late for your ballet dance teaching class with an umbrella in one hand and your gym bag in another, maneuvering between puddles in white trainers, praying to whatever gods that existed not to soak them through and cursing yourself for constant bad outfit choices when it came to weather. Scorching hot afternoon with friends? Let's wear something black, your brain would suggest. Rainstorm? White converse highs is a great idea!

Your mother would choke you with bare hands probably if she saw you right now.

On your way to the studio, you bumped into some old lady carrying bags of groceries. You threw quick apologies, ignoring the screams of “watch out!’’ along with deathly glares that other people were sending in your direction you, until you finally reached your destination. Exactly five minutes before the time.

Just Dance dance school, located approximately twenty-five minutes long underground ride from your flat (which as a broke college student you highly appreciated), appeared in front of your eyes.

It was a modern building, situated in a part of the city that smelled like soy sauce and burnt meat, but during four months you had been working there you got used to it. There was a nail salon on the first floor and tailor on the second, but the whole third floor belonged to the school.

You started working there on Fridays and Saturdays a while ago, after completely coincidentally stumbling upon an offer found online. The school was looking for someone who could teach kids ballet on weekends. A young, energetic person with experience and, obviously, great patience and sympathy for children.

The only thing you were lacking of was background in teaching. But the manager, Choi Jisoo, did not mind that at all. A row of gold medals and trophies sitting on your shelves was enough to convince her you’re worth giving a chance on a probationary period. After few weeks of proving your skills as the best ballet teacher miss Choi would ever think of, you had got in.

And that was how you dumped your part time job at the petrol station to teach kids at Just Dance twice a week. Friday evenings and Saturday afternoons for a decent amount of money for a college student struggling with real life shit called university fees and rent, that even scholarship couldn’t entirely underwrite.

Now, climbing up the stairs with the speed of light, you knew you couldn’t bring yourself to lose this job because of your silly daytime nap that made you run late for classes.

You bursted into the locker rooms quickly, practically undressing in a hurry. After short examination in front of the mirror and fixing your usual mess of a bun, you spared a quick glance one last time at the clock. Four minutes of delay.

“Fuck!” you muttered to yourself, jogging to the practice room.

The halls, usually quite, now were filled with child-like chatter and bubbling. You frowned. That's strange, you thought to yourself. Your astonishment grew even bigger when you reached your destination, spotting a group of kids, your kids, in front of the practice room, bickering with each other.

“Hey!’’ you shouted, silencing them effectively. “Why aren't you already warming up and stretching inside?”

One of the kids, a little girl named Jiyho, stepped forward. “The room is occupied by some other group, miss. They were here when we came.” she said.

You raised your eyebrows. Did you perhaps messed up schedules and forgot there were some changes? No, that couldn’t be it. “What do you mean ‘occupied’?” you asked. “That's impossible, we've been having this classes every week here, in this room, for three months. I would know if there were any changes.”

Kids looked at you helplessly, shrugging their shoulders.

You sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, of course it's not your fault. I had a really crappy day and now this,’’ you drawled, pointing your hand at the door to the practice room. “Wait here. I’m gonna try to explain this quickly.’’ you added, smiling reassuringly at them.

When you opened the door, loud music filled your ears; some newest Drake's track you couldn’t remember the name of was playing from the speakers. Inside there was a group of kids, slightly older than the ones you were teaching, practing some hip-hop choreography.

Their teacher's back was facing you so you couldn’t distinguish if it was someone you knew from the school's crew. His dark hair with blonde highlights weren't familiar to you though. He was swaying to the rhythm of the music, counting the moves.

You cleared your throat loudly and there was no response. Of course no one could have heard you, not over the loud bass blasting through the speakers. You spotted the cause of your problem, a mobile phone charging in the corner of the room, so you went there and turned off the music entirely just before Drake could sing the chorus.

You cleared your throat again and this time everyone, including the dance teacher, heard you without a doubt.

Kids stopped dancing immediately and turned around, wide-eyed with heaving chests. Their teacher looked in your direction too, and now you were sure he had to be a new employee.

He was not much older than you, probably around your age. There was a thin layer of sweat on his forehead he wiped out with the back of his hand, his white t-shirt with the name of some punk rock band you didn't recognize was slightly sticking to his toned chest. He was good looking, you couldn’t deny that, and there was something devilish in the way he eyed your figure up and down with a smirk plastered on his lips.

You almost blushed under his gaze.

“Is there any problem, miss primaballerina?’’ he asked first, not even hiding his mocking tone.

You straightened up, ignoring his choice of words. “A problem?” you scoffed. “You and your group took the room where I have my classes every Friday and Saturday, so yeah, there is a problem.”

“The room was empty when I came here, so I just took it, it's not a big deal.” he answered, shrugging his shoulders.

“It is a big deal. Are you blind? This room is made directly for ballet dances. See this thing beside the wall?” You pointed behind him. “It's called barre. We used that for stretching in ballet. Of course you don't know that, how an ignorant hip-hop choreographer wanna be like you would know.” you snorted, chuckling to yourself.

In the corner of your eye you saw your kids peeking through the door, clearly interested in this unusual situation.

He narrowed his eyes. “I know what this is used for, princess,” he countered. You rolled your eyes at the pet name he used for you. First primaballerina and now this? Touché. “But I still don't see the point of your outburst.”

You were slowly losing your patience. The amusement in the eyes of his dancing group started to get on your nerves. It was a battle for the life and death and you weren’t used to backing away and losing. You had kids to take care of, rent to pay and new season of RuPaul's Drag Race to watch.

So you picked up a new strategy.

“Are you perhaps new here?” you asked, startling him.

“I am, why are you asking?”

“Because if you weren't new, you would know that there is only one practice room with barres in our school. This one, which also happens to be the room where I have my ballet classes every week.” you said triumphantly with a glint of not-so subtle satisfaction in your voice. “So, can you kindly take your kids and go somewhere else?”

That's it, you praised yourself in your thoughts. You got him, he doesn’t have anything up his sleeve.

The guy, however, seemed very much unaffected by your words. If anything, he was even more pleased, making your stony facade broke in seconds as you were losing your former confidence.

“No.’’ he said simply.

You gaped at him. “What?”

“I said no, princess. I need ten more minutes to finish this practice and I’m done.’’ he replied, reaching for the water bottle standing beside the wall. “Ten minutes, and you will have your bars or barrels all to yourself.”

You ignored an urge to correct him, taking a few tentative steps until you were right in front of him. He outstanded your height for a few solid centimeters, making you feel even smaller than you already were.

In addition, you hated him even more for looking this good even up close.

“Ten more minutes?! I should have started my lesson fifteen minutes ago! My kids are waiting!” You outstretched your arms in the direction where your group was watching the situation cautiously. They looked like tennis match spectators, turning their heads left and right as the argument progressed.

“So are mine,” he snapped back in calm tone, his lips twitching in an amused smile. Your nostrils flared.

“Miss? We could use another room today. We don't mind.” one of the girls from your group, Jihyo as you assumed, proposed shyly.

“But I do mind! I’m not gonna leave it like that!’’ you said firmly, still looking straight into your new rival's eyes.

“Geez, loosen up your primaballerina skirt a little maybe.”

“It’s called tutu, you ignorant assh–!”

“What on Earth is going on here?” the manager, Choi Jisoo asked, entering the room. She was a middle-aged woman, once a contemporary dancer, now leading the school on behalf of her husband. Her red high heels were clicking loudly on the polished parquet surface as she was coming up in your direction. “I heard shouting, so I came to check. Can someone explain me why aren't you having your classes now?”

You immediately rushed to the manager, taking her hands in yours. “Miss Choi, I will explain everything. This man right here,” You pointed at the cause of your anger with distaste written all over your face and he simply rolled his eyes. “took my practice room and I have no place to have my classes.”

Miss Choi turned to look at the choreographer as well. “Is that true, Hoseok?’’ she asked.

The guy, Hoseok, nodded. “This room was empty, so I just took it. I didn’t know someone was supposed to teach here later.”

You scoffed. “There's a graphic hanging on the wall when you enter the building, you should've just–”

“Silence!” miss Choi said loudly and you stopped speaking, face flushed from the embarrassment of being scolded like that by your boss. “Jung Hoseok is indeed new here, so I will let that situation pass. And you, Y/N, will take another room for today’s practice.”

“But–”

“There's no buts. I’m sure Hoseok will know from now on in which room he should have his dance lessons. Go back to your groups, you are dismissed.” she added and left the room, leaving you to stare at her disappearing figure with wide eyes.

You clenched your fists by your sides, breathing deeply to calm your nerves. “Kids, go to the room 23.” you uttered, eyes focused on Hoseok.

He smirked, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “See you around, princess.” he half-whispered and winked.

Beginnings are always tough, and that was why after your first encounter with Jung Hoseok, you were certain you absolutely, undeniably hated his guts.

The second time you bumped into Jung Hoseok, it was Friday evening two weeks since ‘the accident' and you were walking out of locker rooms after your practice.

When you opened the door and heard strangled cry of “Ah, fuck!” you rushed to blurt out quick apologies to your victim. “Oh my God, I’m so–” you started but immadietly shut your mouth when you saw the person who you just hit.

Jung Hoseok, in his full glory of another The Clash t-shirt (you googled their music your first encounter with him and the only nice think you could say about them was that Jonathan played their song in Stranger Things first season) and yes, grey sweatpants (did he even own other clothes?) was standing before you, grinning in the most annoying way you could ever think of.

You wished you could wipe his smug expression off his face with sand paper.

“Fancy seeing you here too, princess,” he trailed off, leaning against the door and making you roll your eyes like every time you saw him on the halls of Just Dance. Even though you were avoiding him like a plague, he seemed to appear wherever you were. A true pain in the ass.

Maybe you were too stubborn, maybe it was your shitty coping mechanism, but decent conversation with someone like Jung Hoseok wasn’t your favourite part of the day, not after the way you were humiliated in front of your boss and underaged students.

Last week you walked past Hoseok's group and some of them giggled. You could swear they were already making jokes and memes about you behind your back.

And, the worst of it all, an absolute peak of your devastation, was the fact that even your own kids, those who were looking up to you, started to be more reserved around you. Jihyo baked some muffins because she had birthday the other day and didn’t treat you. Jihyo, the girl who once had told you she wanted to be like you in the future.

But none of this anymore.

You turned on your heels and started to walk away but Hoseok followed your footsteps. “Hey, it's rude not to apologize. My right hand hurts now, you know? I need you to kiss it better, princess.” he called, again in the same mocking tone he had used before.

And that was the moment you decided that if choking people to death had been legal, Jung Hoseok would have been already lying dead on the floor.

You ignored his words the best you could, acting like he was invisible. Avoiding the problem wasn’t the best idea you could ever think of, your mum would say but she wasn’t there, so you concluded it was better to act like Hoseok and the situation with practice rooms two weeks ago had never happened.

Hoseok, on the other hand, had very much different outlook on this. “Are you still mad about this thing with practice rooms?’’ he asked, looking at your right profile. You clamped your mouth shut, staring forward. He chuckled. “Christ, I didn't know you're that picky. Are all primaballerinas like this? Right, you are giving me silent treatment, I forgot. But can you please stop and listen what I have to say for a moment?”

After hearing his last words you actually stopped in your tracks, causing Hoseok to do the same.

You sighed heavily. Maybe he was right after all. You were a bitch sometimes, you couldn’t handle the defeats well and above all, you had probably the worst coping mechanism ever.

That was not the end of the world, somebody would say. Don't worry, be happy, Bob Marley would sing if he hadn’t died. Sparing one minute for Jung Hoseok wouldn’t make the ground to open in half underneath you.

“Go on, I’m listening,” you said, choosing casual tone of absolute unbotherness.

Hoseok took a deep breath, before he started speaking. “Listen, I’m sorry about what happened two weeks ago. It wasn’t intentional, I swear. As you know, I’m new here and you can argue or not but people sometimes deserve second chances,” he remarked, observing your reaction. You should stop rolling your eyes at everything that came off his mouth. “So, I thought we can go for, uhm, a coffee maybe? Tomorrow, after our classes.”

You raised your eyebrows, gawking at him.

“It's all on me. As an apology.” Hoseok added sheepishly.

A coffee? With Jung Hoseok? A hip-hop dancer who didn’t know what barre was? You opened your mouth to snap “am I joke to you?” but you stopped eventually.

To be fair, you had nothing to lose. He wanted to apologize after all, he was the first one to approach you and maybe that was how adults should act.

You looked at him once again, more intensely this time, trying to find any sort of fake politeness in his expression. But in his eyes there was nothing but genuineness. Maybe Jung Hoseok really just wanted to treat you in lieu of apology.

Finally, after a minute that seemed to last forever, you softened. “Fine.”

Hoseok's eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. Stop staring at me like that or I will change my mind.” you grumbled and he grinned at you boyishly, in the way he probably made people fall for him. Because with that kind of aura he emitted, it was hard not to. Thank God you could easily resist his charms.

“That's settled then. Wait for me after your practice in front of the locker rooms.” he said, while walking away backwards. “See you tomorrow, princess!”

When he disappeared behind the corner, you muttered to yourself, “See you too, asshole.”, adjusting the straps of your gym bag.

It was a good while after that day when you realised that some people really did deserve second chances.

And Jung Hoseok was one of those kind.

Your third meeting with Jung Hoseok was a date. Actually, it wasn’t a date at all. You called it ‘coffee for the peace’. United we stand, divided we fall, they said.

Or to paraphrase Fergie: little coffee never killed nobody.

You found yourself standing in front of the mirror in the locker rooms, eyeing yourself with contorted look. Your hair was a mess, which you blamed the weather for. Even though mother nature stopped bombarding the city with rainfalls, the humidity was still there, lurking around the corners and waiting for the right moment to attack. You didn’t even know why you cared so much about your appearance. It was just a coffee, nothing more, nothing less, for God's sake.

With a sigh, you bent over to tie your shoes, and then you heard a voice coming from behind you. The same low, teasing tone that could only belong to–

“Didn't know you've been hiding this under your ballerina skirt all time,” Hoseok mused. “What a waste.”

You twirled around with a speed of light, facing him with slightly pinkish cheeks. It wasn't everyday that someone non-explicitly talked about your ass, especially someone like him. It wasn’t even on full display because you had your leggings on and you knew he was joking but still, your face felt hotter.

“What are doing here? You aren't supposed to be here, it's ladies locker room!” you hissed.

Hoseok shrugged his shoulders. “You’ve been here forever, so I decided to check if you didn't slip on your point shoes and died.”

You raised your left eyebrow. “Very funny. Now give me a minute and we can go wherever you want.”

“Watch your words, princess, beacuse I might take your offer seriously.”

He couldn't see you but you rolled your eyes hearing him say this regardless. You took your bag from the porch and turned around to face him with a bored expression written all over your features.

“Don't act like you're doing this as a punishment. You won’t regret, I promise,” After climbing off the stairs, Hoseok opened the door and you embarked on a street. “This place isn't far away from here, just a ten minutes walk.” he explained, choosing a direction you didn’t know.

To distract yourself a little, you started to observe the neighborhood. It was less crowded here, the usual smell from cheap restaurants was less palpable now. You were walking down the street you weren’t familiar with, you hadn’t had a chance to explore it like that yet.

It was dead quiet between you despite the hustle of the city. You weren’t used to this kind of silence and even though you certainly weren’t a master of small-talks, at least you had to try loosen up the heavy atmosphere a little.

“So,” you trailed off, “You seem to know this part of the city pretty well.”

Hoseok hummed, taking another turn that seemed to be some kind of a cutoff. “My old dance school I used to go is here, in this area,” he said. “I moved to the boarding school in Seoul from Gwangju when I was sixteen beacuse I wanted to pursue dancing. My parents weren’t very fond of it, but I told them that high school I chose had a very promising programme for kids who wanted to be business majors in the future as they wanted me to be.”

“And did you do something with that? Business, I mean,” you asked.

He scrunched his nose. “Nah, not really.” He looked like he didn't want to elaborate on that more, so you didn’t press him further. “Enough storytime for now. We're here.”

There you stood in front of a simple coffee shop like many others. Blue Side, signboard said in swirly fonts and English spelling. There was nothing distinctive about it, just an ordinary place you could find in neighborhoods like this in every single city, but you knew places like this one sometimes had living souls inside, telling their own stories.

Blue Side indoors looked exactly like the name was saying: azure walls, paired with modern white chairs and tables, grayish cloths adoring them. Classy, tasteful decor, someone would say, but one thing seemed completely out of place: big, framed pictures of sunflowers, your favourite plants, hanging on the walls like on a blue sky.

There was something bizarre about it, they didn’t match the rest of the decoration at all but at the same time they seemed to fit perfectly. They were bringing strange kind of calmness and halcyon aura to the place, marked with cold tones but broken through the yellow warmth.

Hoseok lead you to the table by the window. There wasn’t a lot of people beside you here, so a young looking waitress with dyed pink hair approached you pretty quickly, handing menus. She grinned broadly at Hoseok, too courteous for your liking, and for a moment you wondered just how many coffees the waitress served him before. Probably a good amount, judging by the way he returned the smile.

You looked through the positions briefly, before deciding on a simple espresso. Hoseok didn’t even open his. Regular customer, you thought to yourself, flesh and bones.

Awkward silence fell between you again and this time Hoseok was the one to break it.

“It's weird seeing you without your ballerina outfit,” he said, startling you. “And your hair isn’t in a bun today,” He pointed at the top of his head, tracing invisible circles in the air.

“Is that a bad thing?’’

Hoseok’s smile was smug when he spoke. “Not at all. You look good like this. Not so dramatic.”

You huffed. “I'm not dramatic.”

“Says the person who almost kicked me and my kids out of the practice room, and called me hip-hop choreographer wanna be.”

You opened your mouth to snap a witty response at him but the pink-haired waitress came to collect the orders. Maybe you were losing your mind but you could swear her lips weren't tainted in fuschia before.

“Just an espresso for me,” you said, sending the waitress a forced smile.

“Caramel frappuccino with–” Hoseok started, but the waitress interrupted him.

“With extra cream, got it.” she finished his sentence, clearly proud of herself.

You bit your bottom lip, trying to suppress an urge to chuckle. Hoseok sent a polite smile to the girl and averted his gaze to you. The points of his ears were slightly flushed in red.

“So yeah,” he uttered, scartching the back of his neck. “Where were we?”

For a moment you thought about teasing him a little more, but eventually you resigned. He looked enough flustered right now and you’re not that devil as you had thought.

“We were talking about me looking dramatic with a bun and tutu on,” you prompted instead.

“You know that's not what I meant.”

You ignored him. “Anyway, you too don't look today like a hip-hop choreographer wanna be.”

That was true, he didn’t remind you of the sweaty Hoseok in grey sweatpants you were seeing every Friday and Saturday on the halls of Just Dance after blasting Spotify Global Top 50 for a whole hour.

This Hoseok who was sitting in front of you was wearing ripped jeans and leather jacket paired with ankle boots you wouldn’t mind buying for yourself in a smaller size. Daredevil, that was a good word to describe him. Dangerous, daring, and maybe d–yeah, dumbass, your brain suggested.

Yet, one thing was still the same about him.

“What's with you and those t-shirts?’’ you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Hoseok snorted at that. ‘’I like the band, so I wear t-shirts with their name on. It's as simple as that, princess. But I don't expect you to understand since you probably don't know who Joy Division is.”

You placed your palm on your chest, more offended by his words that you would like to admit. ‘’Of course I know who Joy Division is. I'm ballerina, not stupid,” you scoffed. ‘’Love will tear us apart is their song, isn’t it? I’ve been through this edgy phase on Tumblr in 2015. I know what I’m taking about.”

Hoseok looked at you with raised eyebrows and there was something in his eyes you couldn’t put your finger on. Was it amusement? Curiosity?

You didn’t have a lot of time to think about it though, because the waitress was back with your orders. Again starstrucked by Hoseok. Again smiling sweetly like kpop female idols on music shows.

While she finally put your coffees on the table (she spent definitely too much time doing it) and walked away, you spoke once more.

“I don’t get it,” you said and Hoseok muttered “what?”, taking a sip of his coffee. “I’ve never seen someone doing a choreography to Drake's song and be dressed like cliché rock band member the next day.”

Hoseok placed his cup down and looked at you with a smirk. “I have many faces you don't know about yet, princess.” he warned. Dangerous, daring, dumb–

“And when am I going to find out?” you countered.

“If you keep going for a coffee with me after our practices, I might reveal more of myself to you. As long as you are going to do the same in return.”

At that, you raised your eyebrows. Hoseok's eyes were challenging, asking you to pick up the dare and get to know him more and more, slice him layer after layer. Your subconscious was telling you there was so much more than meets the eye about Jung Hoseok than his annoying retorts and edgy t-shirts. And you were there to witness all of it.

“Fine,” you finally agreed, eyes narrowed. “We can hang out after classes. Sometimes.”

Hoseok grinned. “Great. Now, let's start getting to know each other!”

You're eyes widened comically. “Woah, slow down, boy. You know my name, know that I teach ballet and that I like espresso. What else should I tell you on our first dat–meeting?” you corrected yourself quickly. Date was a sacred word. Definitely not reserved for a man like Jung Hoseok.

“Oh, please. I also know it's better not to get on your nerves,” he pointed out. Smartass. “Tell me about how all of this happened. How did you become a ballerina.” he suggested.

You took a big sip of your coffee. “That's a quite long story,” you said languidly.

“I don't mind. We have time.”

You stared at him for a moment. He looked slightly out of picture, sitting in a quiet coffee shop, drinking a cup of the sweetest drink you could ever think of, while wearing clothes that made him look like he belonged to shady bars, where he could be surrounded by sleazy people sipping on their scotch whiskeys. There should have been a cigarette caught between his lips and fumes of smoke swirling around his features, but there was solace and the smell of caramel. Jung Hoseok, with a picture of sunflowers behind his back looked like no one you had ever met before.

And this kind of enigma that was this boy inflamed a strange curiosity in you.

So you picked up a dare.

“Well,” you began, “It all started when I was in kindergarten. You know how it is, when you are five years old and your parents want to divert their unfulfilled ambitions into you. You could say I was this type of kid, kinda. My mum was a ballerina when she was young, so was her mother, but when she got pregnant with me in very early stage of her relationship with dad, she had to stop her career and took care of me. Dad was constantly working, travelling here and there to gain as much money as he could for us,” you explained.

“Mum always told me that my grandparents weren’t quite fond of their relationship. Especially my mum's. You know, dad used to be some kind of a bad boy back then,” you chuckled, remembering the pictures mum showed you. Leather jackets, motorbikes and self made cigarettes. “Grandma constantly blamed him for ruining mum's dreams, for debauching her and then, I happened,” you paused to gulp a sip of your coffee and continued. “So yeah, my grandma never forgave dad. However, after years she had grown to tolerate him to the point she didn’t throttle him during Christmas.”

You smiled, thinking how your dad and grandma avoided any unnecessary conversations between them. It was all civil, good mornings and goodbyes spoke in casual tone, but the tension was so thick that any sudden impulse, like dad talking about old times after a few glasses of wine, could break everything they had built through years.

“It was actually my dad who took me to the ballet classes first. My mum never wanted me to follow her footsteps but dad somehow tried to, I don't know, redeem himself? He felt responsible for a long time and when I think about this now, he just wanted to make his daughter a next little ballerina so my grandma could be pleased.”

Suddenly Hoseok interrupted you. “But don't you think it's unfair your parents did that to you because your mum couldn’t, you know, continue her career anymore?” he asked and you were pleasantly surprised to see him intrigued by your little story.

You hummed, contemplating this for a second before you answered. “You’re right, maybe it is slightly unfair but I actually grown to love ballet while the years passed. And seeing my mum happily watching my performances is enough for me.” you said. Ballet was your whole life, it always had been, there was no point of denying it.

“What about your grandma then?”

“She died a few years ago. But I think she was proud of me. She never told me that verbally though. She was pretty bad at expressing feelings, but I know she was proud. I saw it in her eyes after my first big étude.”

It was in middle school, back when you were living in your hometown. Your group was performing Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker and you got one of the leading roles. You never forgot the look in your grandma's eyes when she approached you after the performance.

“And what now?” Hoseok asked and you looked up at him. “What are your plans for the next, few years?”

“Now, I still have a couple of years to double major from ballet dances and psychology. And what would come after, we will see. I have a big performance in January that will determine something really important for me. And as for the future-future, teaching kids ballet seems really nice.” You smiled lightly.

You didn’t like to talk about your big performance aloud, since you weren't quite sure of what future was going to bring. It determined if you would get into four-months-long international scholarship in Russia or not. Only one person could win this. And you were strong-willed to at least try. You dreamt about it your entire life. To finally dance on the stage of Bolszoy Theatre, maybe go on a whole tour around the world with their crew. But that was for now a matter of your own luck and abilities.

“Wow,” Hoseok mused. “You have this all planned out, princess.”

You rolled your eyes. “That's just a goal, not actual plans,” you grumbled sheepishly. “What about you? Are you really a hip-hop choreographer wanna be?’’ You giggled but stopped abruptly when you saw his expression seemed to have changed. Gone was cocky, grinning boy he was just minutes ago. Now in Hoseok's eyes was some kind of sadness and melancholy that wasn’t there before. It didn’t suit him. He was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“No plans. I’m just living the moment.” he said matter-of-factly, like he was trying to play it the most casually he could. It was strange behavior.

Maybe Hoseok was right. He did have a lot more hidden underneath the layers he put on everyday. He just didn’t want to show it. Not yet.

The atmosphere condensed between you. It was thick and heavy with strange tension. You tried to loosen up it a little. It was probably your personality trait your friend would directly connect with your zodiac sign. “So,” you chimed in, “for how long this waitress has been giving you heart eyes?”

Asking that was completely unplanned but you had to think about something quickly, offhand. Hoseok’s features brightened a little and you didn’t know if it was because the question was about the girl or because you were the one asking him it.

Ironically, you hoped for the latter.

“Chaeyoung, you mean?”

Oh, he knew her name. Interesting.

You tightened your grip around the cup unconsciously. “Is there any other waitress here who has a crush on you?”

Hoseok smirked after hearing your snarky remark but chose not to answer that. “Actually I’ve never had more explicit conversation with her, unless it was about the coffee. Maybe I should try, what do you think? She seems nice.” His eyes wandered for a moment to the place where the waitress stood, talking to a customer.

You smiled but there was no true politeness in this. Why though, that was something to think about on another occasion. “Yeah, you should. Totally.” you gritted through clenched teeth.

“Yeah, totally.” Hoseok agreed, nodding.

For a minute it was mute but then he glanced at your empty cups and a small smirk appeared on his face. “So, where are you taking me next?” he asked out of the blue.

You blinked. “What?”

“I treated you this week, your turn is next.”

‘’I’m not gonna buy you food, the fuck. You treated me as an apology! I don't-” You stopped your outburst when you saw him snickering at you. “Why the hell are you laughing?’’ you snapped. There was probably a blush on your cheeks and you cupped them briefly with your hands to cover it.

“Because I was kidding. You don't have to buy me anything, I can pay for myself. Relax, princess.” Hoseok grinned. He didn’t seem to be as uneasy as before, so you scoffed at him. “But honestly, where are we going next weekend?” he asked, entirely serious.

“What makes you think I want to go anywhere with you?” you challenged.

He just sent you his signature, cocky grin. “Am I that bad company?” he teased.

“Decent. You’re decent company, Hoseok.”

“I’m flattered.”

“Don't be. That's just me trying to be civil.” you warned, pointing your index finger at him.

“Great, I’ll text you about it soon then, princess,” Hoseok announced simply, ignoring your surprised expression. He reached for the menu still lying on the table and opened it. “They serve good lemon tarts here, want some?” he proposed, going through the other positions briefly.

You furrowed your eyebrows, still processing what he had said earlier. “You don't have my phone number.”

“I do, actually,” Hoseok mumbled and his lips twitched.

Your eyes narrowed into slits. “How did you get my number?”

“Soyeon. I asked her and she gave me.” Hoseok answered simply, shrugging his shoulders.

A shocked gasp left your lips. “Soyeon, the receptionist? You swooned her over to get my number? She's married!” you exclaimed, staring at him in disbelief.

Now it was Hoseok's turn to roll his eyes. “Not my fault she couldn't resist my smile and sweet words.”

You sighed heavily. He was really testing your patience.

“Well, what about those lemon tarts?”

You tossed your head back, groaning in frustration that was probably heard by every single person passing by the coffee shop on this September afternoon.

However, you missed the way Hoseok's lips stretched out in a warm, sincere smile.

You did end up having those lemon tarts that day.

You couldn’t explain why or how, but in some way coffee meetings after dance lessons on Saturdays were no more just them. They turned into late dinners on Fridays and random text messages when you were bored during your lectures, which most times were eventually escalalting to Hoseok sending you tiktoks and memes you had saw million times before yet you laughed at them anyway.

It was a start of promising friendship, someone could say. Unexpected, with not so smooth beginning but blossoming into something much more than simple hanging out in your free time. But none of you seemed to notice it, not yet.

Before you could even blink, summer was officially over and fall started to make her way into the weather. Warm cups of coffee started to feel more and more reasonable with each passing day and one time you found yourself holding one while visiting Hoseok at his work.

It was Wednesday, you didn’t have any classes at uni that day and he texted you if you could come to the address he had sent. And you did, ignoring the cold wind and forgetting about the warmth between your sheets you had to leave. Which had been surprising even for you; a sacrifice for someone like Jung Hoseok, but again, you weren’t categorizing it like that yet.

That’s how you found out about Hoseok's other job. He worked at the Suga's Record Shop, where, as he had described it: you could buy legendary pieces of music while listening to another million dollar hits. He’d said he took the position at Just Dance because the actual interest in buying vinyls unfortunately wasn't increasing, so the guy who owned the shop, Min Yoongi was his name, had decided to reduce Hoseok's salary.

The shop looked like pulled out straight from 80s movies, with tons of records of probably every single artist you could think of. There wasn’t anyone beside you inside, so Hoseok walked you around, picking up different albums, classics, as he had said and showing them to you. He kept talking about them with true admiration written on his features, babbling about how Joey Ramone and his band invented punk rock and you found yourself watching him with amusement glittering in your eyes.

Days, weeks passed and it was already October approaching, turning green parks into wide range of colors that could only be described as autumnal.

You kept discovering more and more similarities between you and Hoseok than you would like to admit. One of them being your laicsm when it came to manga and anime. The solidarity was made one Friday after practices, when you both agreed on not understanding the hype after seeing some poster hanging out randomly on the street.

Music taste however, was another cup of tea. It was something Hoseok took his pride in, that was why he kept sending you various tracks encouraging you to listen to some good stuff until one day, with raised eyebrows, he learnt how wrong his previous assumptions about you had been.

“Oh my God, my song!’’ you exclaimed, when The Neighbourhood’s Softcore started playing while you were sitting at the Blue Side. It looked like the pink-haired waitress was absent, so were the latest k-pop tracks she constantly played in the coffee shop.

“You know them?’’ Hoseok asked, looking at you with bewilderment in his eyes.

You snorted at him. “Told you I had that edgy vibe in 2015 when everyone listened to Sweather Weather. The t-shirts are long gone but my love for Jesse Rutherford stays untouched.”

You started mouthing the lyrics but Hoseok interrupted you. “I thought you would be into some k-pop type of shit.”

He received a roll of your eyes in return. “Hey, don't disrespect k-pop like that! There are nice songs out there, people just choose the worse ones usually and complain how trashy they are.” you said, pointing your index finger accusingly at him.

Hoseok lifted his arms in defending pose. “Fine, fine, don’t cancel me. What about classical music then. Since you are dancing ballet and all,” he drawled.

“Do you want to know a secret?’’ You leaned over the table and whispered, earning a nod from Hoseok. “Most ballerinas know nothing about classical music unless they are pieces we use for our routines. Ask them about their favourite and the answers would probably be Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. I'm most ballerinas.”

There was a moment of silence before you both erupted into laughter.

For people looking at you from the distance, laughing together until tears formed in your eyes, teasing and throwing playful snorts, you might have looked like you had known each other for years.

Something was ending, leaves were falling off the trees and sun hid behind the greish clouds but in the warm embrace of a small coffee shop two people found themselves in a hold of affection they couldn’t escape, no matter how hard they tried.

Because love sometimes comes into people’s lifes unannounced, tearing apart their souls and making them vulnerable for others’ healing touch.

It was late evening on Friday, when you were sitting at your favourite ramen place, bonding over food like it was the most natural thing to do, talk between next chews, bites and occasional slurps of Hoseok's mouth.

Miss Lee's ramen was cheap, not fatty and what was the most important – not popular among other residents of your neighborhood, so not many people decided to show up that evening as well. That became the reason why you had suggested meeting there with Hoseok after your lessons.

You were in the middle of playing 100 questions game, a new found way of getting to know each other better. It was completely Hoseok's idea because he seemed to be the most eager man to learn more about you that you had ever met in your entire history of dating which, sadly, wasn't impressive.

Last time someone asked you so many questions, you were doing personality tests on Buzzfeed.

Now it was your turn to ask something and after discovering that Hoseok poured milk before the cereal, liked green the most from all colors and was scared of needles (that's probably why he didn’t have any piercings, you thought to yourself) you decided you were really bad at this game.

But then, you recalled the interview you had recently watched with some k-pop group and after swallowing a generous amount of pasta, you aimed the target.

“What's your most prized possession?’’

Hoseok, however, answered without a second thought. “My drums.”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you looked at him in confusion. “Drums? Like the instrument?”

“No, like the cannisters.” he snorted sarcastically.

“So you can play?” you continued, ignoring his witty retort.

“Yes, I do. I started learning when I was a kid. My dad owned a music shop. He was renovating old instruments from time to time and that's how I was gifted drums on my 10th birthday. The same ones I have till this day.”

You hummed. “So you’re hip-hop dancer slash drummer? And what, you play in a rock band too?” you laughed but stopped right away when you saw his serious expression. You gasped. “Oh my God. You do play in a band! And you didn’t tell me sooner?!” you exclaimed loudly. Young couple sitting few seats from you sent you deathly glares. You mouthed “Sorry!” and directed your attention to Hoseok again.

He simply shrugged his shoulders. “There wasn’t an opportunity before,” You shook your head in disbelief at that. “Told you I’ve got a lot more to reveal.” He smirked and fuck, you hoped the blush that covered your cheeks right now was from the spice noodles you had eaten.

So Jung Hoseok and his love for leather jackets and old bands wasn't unreasonable. You hated yourself for wanting to see him play, sweat covering his forehead and lips bitten in concentration. What a sight it could be. Truly mesmerizing.

You had to stop your brain from wandering through such dangerous territories.

“So,” you started after clearing your thoughts, “Are there any other hot musicians in your band?” you asked, regretting your choice of words as soon as they left your lips. You wanted to slap yourself mentally.

“Did you just call me hot?”

“In your dreams. Now tell me about your rock band,” you blurted out quickly and let out a shaky breath afterwards. That was very much close to a catastrophe.

Yet you didn’t miss the way Hoseok's lips lifted up in amusement, trying to hide the laughter blossoming in his throat. “We are actually a punk rock band. There’s four of us. Namjoon, electric guitarist and the leader who sticks us all together since 2016. Jimin, in charge of vocals and bass guitar, and the youngest member, Jungkook, vocalist and bass guitar player as well.”

“How did you all meet then?’’

You weren’t even hiding your curiosity at this point. You justified yourself by thinking it was your only chance to be as close to the real (punk) rock band member you would ever be.

“You probably won’t believe me, but we all met at the university. I was studying business for a year before I dropped out of it and that's how I met Namjoon, who’s been my roommate ever since,” Hoseok said. “I met Jungkook and Jimin through Namjoon. He introduced them to me saying they all took part in some underground concerts for amateurs and after that they started hanging out together. You might say it was a coincidence we all met like that but I don't believe it. I think we were meant to come across each other eventually, you know, to save punk rock together.” He laughed to himself after finishing his little story.

You smiled at him genuinely and there was no mockness in this, it was true sympathy and probably something else, not so easy to describe.

You imagined four boys, with head full of dreams and hearts filled with raw passion, doing something the world didn’t believe in, but they had enough faith in themselves to prove everyone wrong.

“So how’s the band called?” you asked.

“Punk’s Not Dead.” Hoseok responded, cheeks bright red with mortification.

“Punk’s Not Dead,” you mused to yourself. “Sounds nice. Clever, I would say.”

“It's actually a name of the movie. It was Namjoon who made it up. He's the smartest from our group. After all he isn’t studying law without a reason.”

Your eyebrows lifted in interest. “A future lawyer playing in a punk rock band? I thought nothing is gonna surprise me after hearing you, hip-hop choreographer wanna be, are also a drummer. What about the others? Doctors? Stripteasers?”

Hoseok chukled lightly. “No, none of that. Jungkook and Jimin both work together as mechanics,” he answered, reaching for his now empty ramen bowl. You gaped as his calloused fingers adored with rings curled around the item, moving it to the side. Hoseok had pretty hands, you noticed. Hands of musician.

Sudden idea popped up in your head. “So when am I gonna hear you playing live?” you asked, smirking at him.

“Soon actually.”

“Soon?”

“Yeah, soon. We are having a gig next Saturday at Namjoon's brother bar. You should come.” Hoseok suggested.

What kind of hollywood movie plot it was, you didn’t know, but you found yourself enjoying the main female protagonist's role probably too much.

“Next Saturday,” you mumbled to yourself, counting days in your head. Right, it was the day your best friend was coming back from Los Angeles and you had to pick her up from the airport.

You bit your lip. Ah, fuck it.

“Fine. I’ll come,” you said. ‘’But can I bring my friend as a company?” you added and Hoseok smiled broadly.

“The more people, the better.”

It was a while after the concert when you learnt it wasn’t entirely a good idea but right now, with Jung Hoseok and his cocky grin he was flashing you, nothing else mattered.

Incheon International Airport was a place utterly unfamiliar to you.

Last time you had visted it, was when you had been in ripe age of ten, welcoming back your aunt Jia from her ‘life journey’ to Tibet.

Aunt Jia was an extraordinary lady, she had proved it announcing the whole family her departure to Tibet for a six months long ‘detox’, nearly giving your mother heart attack when she had talked about bonding through the nature and finding her inner peace in a temple among Tibetan monks.

But it was years ago, now aunt Jia was older and her interest in buddhism was way more sustainable, limited to buying different Buddha figurines in art decor shops.

So today, you were at the Incheon International Airport for the second time in your life, again welcoming, this time your best friend Hana from her almost two years long stay in United States.

You met three years ago, both freshly graduated from your high schools and starting a new, adult life in Seoul as roommates. You had become close friends pretty easily, sticking together through ups and downs of dealing with real life shit, as you used to call it.

Ballerina and soon to be actress, both too dramatic for this world but getting along just fine through a whole year, until one day Hana had announced over a bowl of cereal she had received an opportunity to go on an international scholarship in USA she had always dreamt about. A lifetime chance, one in a million, as she'd said. Learning acting from American professionalists, walking down the never ending sunshine streets of California. Something only outstanding people can experience.

That was how Hana had ended up in Los Angeles, the City of Stars and the world's factory of make-believe. Thousands of kilometers away from home. Today, she was going to step on her country's ground for the first time in two years since she had been gone and you were more than thrilled to see her again in person.

She hadn’t exactly told you why she was back, neither she had explained for how long or, what was the most important and disturbing: why this was happening all of a sudden. And something was telling you it was all too suspicious, a perfectly wrapped half-lie.

Hana said someone from her old friends from acting school had told her that the National Theater was preparing to do Victor Hugo's Les Misérables and suggested she should try her luck with castings, since she had played the main role while being abroad. It sounded convincing though, how wouldn’t, she was a good actress after all.

That was Hana’s version of events. How really was, you didn't know, not yet. But you were sure something about this whole situation was too strange to be true. And you were determined to find out exactly what.

It was late morning in Seoul, foggy and with definitely too much humidity in the air. You were standing in the arrivals hall holding a self-made sign, produced out of boredom and your true love for DIY Pinterest ideas. Besides your friend’s name, you had painted palm trees on it and added glitter that was still stuck to some parts of your bedroom floor. You probably looked ridiculous holding it in your hands but you didn’t care, shifting from left foot to right. Waiting.

When you were about to check the time, you saw people coming up in your direction with suitcases in their hands. And then, among a crowd of nameless passengers, you saw a familiar blonde pony-tail and black polka-dot suitcase that could only belong to one person.

You could feel the roll of your best friend's eyes before you actually saw it, Hana shaking her head and chuckling to herself because of the absurd sign you were holding.

When Hana was approximately ten meters from you, you cleared your throat and half-yelled in flat english, “There she is! My California girl!”

People around looked in your direction with both distaste and amusement but Hana only sighed, until breath was knocked out of her lungs from the sheer force of your hug.

“Oh my God, I missed you so much!” you mumbled into the material of her grey coat.

“We talked and face timed each other practically everyday,” Hana grumbled but deep down, even if she didn’t say it, she missed you too.

“That's not the same!” you protested. “Lemme look at you properly,” You pulled away from the hug, putting your hands on Hana's shoulders and eyeing her carefully. She looked skinnier than three years ago when you had met but that was a question for another occasion. Her skin, gingerly touched by Californian sun, made her look like she had just come back from holidays abroad. “You're definitely too tanned for October,” you pointed out, earning a chuckle from her.

“Come on,” Hana said, tiredness clearly apparent in her voice. “Let's get away from here.”

Back in the Uber that was driving you to your place, the atmosphere seemed to shift. Unspoken questions were lying at the tip of your tongue and you wanted to let them out instantly but you knew better. No rush, one information at the time. So you started from the simplest one, or you just thought it was.

“Did you tell your parents you're back?” you asked and Hana visibly grimaced after hearing it. Of course she didn’t, there was no point of lying.

“Not yet.”

“When are you going to tell them then?”

There was a pause on the other side of the seat and followed by a heavy sigh, Hana responded. “They still think I’m in California because my scholarship physically ends in two months. I will visit them home as soon as I’ll settle down in Seoul again.”

Settle down? You furrowed your eyebrows. She was going to stay for good here?

“So what are your next plans?’’ you wondered aloud.

“Go to that try-out in the theatre next week, see if my stay in America was actually worth something,” Hana chuckled dryly, almost bitterly. “I was also thinking about finding some part time job so I could afford a place on my own once I get back to acting regularly in theatre. I don’t want to overuse your kindness.”

“You're not using–” you started to protest but Hana cut you off.

“I am practically throwing myself at you because I don't have a place to live. But don't worry, that's not for a long time.” She smiled lightly and you reciprocated the gesture. Hana then turned her head to the window, looking out of it for a while as you passed the streets. She murmured something about the weather that you didn’t hear well because your thoughts were somewhere else.

You tried to digest all the revelations your friend had just told you. It looked like Hana wasn’t planning on coming back to Los Angeles any time soon or she wasn't going to do it at all, but that wasn’t the most puzzling issue about the whole situation. It was strange because she’d never said anything about staying abroad for longer, not even once, until she met him. That happened to be some kind of an anchor for her, a reason why she had started questioning openly her further life choices. Had something happened that she changed her mind completely?

You caught in the corner of your eye the sight of Hana absentmindedly playing with the ring on her finger and you decided it was now or never, you had to ask her or you will never be able to muster up the courage.

“What about Taehyung?” It seemed out of the blue, vocalized so suddenly but deep down it wasn’t. And Hana knew that. Her fingers ever so slightly tightened around the ring and then pulled away. “Does he know you’re staying?”

She didn't visibly flinched, didn’t scrunch her eyebrows or purse her lips, didn’t protest. Maybe it was because she had been taught how not to show any emotions, maybe it was because she didn’t want to show any emotions at all. Her face was blank when she spoke, eyes distant and thoughts probably far away from the small space of the car.

“Taehyung recently got a role in some new Netflix series. One of the main roles actually, so it's going to take him some time to finish recording.” she said, not answering the question and she was well aware of it. It was right there on the tip of her tongue but she hesitated. Maybe the realization was too much to handle for her.

“So he seems to enjoy his stay in America,” you trailed off, watching as Hana smiled lightly but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Yeah," she nodded. “He is.”

And that was enough of an answer for you.

You had been watching Hana falling for Taehyung for solid two years since she had left grey streets of Seoul to drown in Californian paradise. They met in acting school and got the scholarship together. The most divine, the most talented students the school had. Somehow over the thousands of kilometers of homesickness they started dating. And you were happy, you couldn’t be more glad seeing your beat friend chasing her dreams with a person who cared about her by her side. But the news about engagement few months ago had come as a shock to you, although you had not said anything. Hana's smile when she had showed you the ring had been enough to convince you of her happiness.

Right now, sitting by her side and listening to her talking about it so emotionless, so blankly, you were sure that in every single Hollywood fantasy there was a crack.

“So, here we are.”

After opening the doors to your apartment there was a slight pause, before you spoke again. “I know it's nothing special but for that price and in location so close to my uni I couldn’t find anything better. It's small but–”

“Can you please stop rumbling for a second?” Hana interrupted you abruptly. She was literally standing in the door with the suitcase still in her hand because you didn't let her in any further. “I told you it's okay. You allowed me to stay here even though there's barely enough space here for one person.”

“But still, the bathroom is like the smallest I have ever seen... Oh, and there's a soy sauce stain on the wall in kitchen because I still haven’t figure out how to remove it and–”

The door banged loudly and you jumped from the sudden noise.

“What the fuck! You know how easily I get scared!” you exclaimed, placing a hand on your chest, calming your rapidly beating heart.

Hana shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve had enough of your stupid complaining. Now, show me where will I sleep beacuse I feel like passing out any second now.” She placed her suitcase on the floor, taking off her coat and kicking off her boots.

When you were living together as roommates, Hana was the one who organized the chores and yelled at you after making a mess and not cleaning up. She had been doing it as a matter of habit even during her absence.

“Sleep, yeah,” you muttered to yourself, shrugging off your coat as well. “Technically there’s no second bed here but you’re going to sleep here,” you explained, pointing out at the small sofa that was standing in a place you called ‘living room' just because it was connected directly to the kitchen. Beside the sofa, it consisted of the lamp and a tiny glass table where usually was a mess of your belongings but right now it was all cleaned and polished.

Hana slumped down on the sofa, closing her eyes. “God, I missed that. There was some yelling kid on the plane and their parents couldn’t shut them up,” She sighed tiredly. “Now I can nap for the rest of the day. And night.”

You bit your lip, looking at her slumped body. Today was Saturday, the day of Hoseok's band concert you had been invited to and you still didn't prepare your outfit or, what was the most important, for the whole week you hadn’t messaged Hana about the fact that she was, in fact, invited too. You felt guilty asking your freshly out of twelve hours long flight friend to come with you but you had no choice.

“Hana,” you started and it already sounded pleading, not casual. She cracked one eye open. She knew when you had some buisness to her and it seemed like that now. “I know you’re tired, jet lagged and all but what would you say to a power six hours nap and going to a punk rock concert tonight with me?” you blurted out quickly.

Hana opened her eyes completely and now was looking at you dumbfounded expression on her face. “What?” she stammered out.

You moved to sit next to her on a sofa and took a deep breath. “So here's the thing. You know I work at the dance school now right?” you began and Hana nodded slowly. “I met a guy there. He teaches kids hip-hop. His name is Hoseok and he actually isn't only a dancer, he's also a drummer. And it might sound stupid but he plays in a band too,” you explained, avoiding her burning gaze you could feel on your skin. However, if you looked in her direction, you would see the soft smile adoring Hana's features. “We kinda started hanging out about a month ago and recently he invited me to his band's concert. And I really want to go but I thought you could accompany me cause I don't wanna be there alone all the time so, yeah.” you trailed off sheepishly.

There was a bit of silence and you were waiting for Hana to scold you but instead you received reaction you weren’t expecting at all.

“You’re dating some guy and you didn’t tell me?!” Hana bursted out. She had a mixture of disbelief and probably a little bit of betrayal written across her face.

You held your arms up in defending pose. “We aren’t dating!” you protested, scandalized someone could ever put words dating and Hoseok's name next to yours. “It's just some casual hanging out after work, just friends. Friends.” you repeated.

Hana rolled her eyes at that. She knew you better than you would like to admit but she decided not to tease you about it any further. “So, is he hot? He must be, he's a drummer after all and they are hot in theory,” She wiggled her eyebrows, nudging you with her elbow while you groaned in frustration.

“If that will make you happy, yes, he is good looking,” you sighed. There was a tiny bit of blush covering your cheeks. “But as I said, we’re just friends!” you emphasized the word again, looking at Hana intensely like you were trying to embed it in her brain so she wouldn't think something else.

“Will you go with me then? Please? I need emotional support.” you pouted. “Besides you owe me for letting you stay here.” you added and it might have been a little unfair move to maake but you didn’t care about that.

Hana sighed heavily, like she was really contemplating the decision even though she had made it a while ago, just to keep you in suspense for a little longer. She fought and urge to ask about said emotional support while Hoseok was only a friend and instead she nodded her head.

“Fine, I’ll go,” she said, lifting her index finger before you could crash her body in a hug. “But I need to take this nap first.”

You grinned at her. “Thank you, thank you,” you kept mumbling, cuddling her body tightly against her protests.

“Now lemme wash and sleep.” Hana grumbled in annoyed tone but you knew she wasn’t mad at you at all. Deep down, even after layers of well trained, measured actions she had a good heart.

“Punk’s not dead? What kind of name for a band is this?”

You were standing before the door to the bar, side by side, watching as different people, mainly young, were passing you and coming inside. Hana eyed the pink poster that said ‘Free entrance!’ with her arms crossed over chest.

“That's the name for the punk rock band.” you said with a glint of annoyance in your voice, not even sure why somehow affected by your friend's words. You liked the name, it wasn’t obvious and sounded catchy. For you at least.

Hana snorted. “I hope they are worth my jet lagged self that I’m sacrificing here for you.” she sighed, averting her gaze from the poster hanging on the window and pushing the door inside.

The bar, Dionysus, was Namjoon's brother’s property, as Hoseok had explained to you. They played their mini concerts here since they had met, actually gaining money from this because the owner was letting them take some part of the earnings from alcohol buying. Also, there was always a small box on the bar counter where people could throw their money inside if they wanted to support the group directly.

Inside, there was a respectable amount of people already standing before the stage where everything seemed to be set up, except for the actual band members that weren't present, apparently hiding at the ‘backstage’ until their main entrance. You spotted drums standing at the back of the stage and you suddenly felt not so sure of yourself.

“There's a whole stage here? Geez, they didn't come to play,” Hana wheezed to herself, taking in the surroundings. “Do you want to drink something first?” she whispered into your ear.

You glanced at your phone to check time before answering. “I don’t know. I kind of want to be by the stage when they start playing.”

Hana nudged your side. “Relax, I will push my way through those girls in leather skirts for you. Come on, let's warm up a little.”

You looked in the direction of the stage once again but eventually gave up, letting her drag you to the bar. Maybe the drink wasn’t a bad idea. You didn't quite know if you could survive the evening completely sober.

The tall, handsome looking bartender smiled at you cheekily when you sat with Hana by the bar.

“What can I get for the lovely ladies?” he asked, eyeing you both misheviously.

“What do you recommend?” Hana leaned her head on the hand, smiling at the man as well.

“I could make you my absolute speciality: Aphrodite’s nectar.” the bartender suggested.

“Go on, surprise us.” Hana said, earning a confident smirk from the man before he turned around to make your drinks. She rolled her eyes, pulling a few bills from her purse and throwing them to the self made money box with ‘Thank you for the support – Punk's not dead’ caption.

“I could pay for myself, you know,” you muttered under your breath but loud enough for Hana to hear.

“Shh, don't say anything and let me support your friend with a generous tip before the actual show. Hope they’re worth it.” Upon her words, the bartender handed you your drinks with “Here you go.” followed by the cocky grin.

Hana frowned when she saw pinkish liqueur poured to the vodka-size glass. “Seriously? This is his speciality? Pink coloured vodka? Isn’t that supposed to be called sex on the beach?” she scoffed and drank the substance in one go, flinching after she swallowed. “I've had better.” she commented dryly.

You followed her actions, drinking up the alcohol as well. You coughed a few times before you asked, “Can we go now?” It sounded like a childlike pleading but you didn’t care.

Hana nodded after exhaling loudly and you both made your way to the stage, like she had said earlier – pushing through the crowd of other people. There were shouts of swears and insults thrown at you from every side but Hana didn’t give a fuck, practically dragging you by your hand while you were muttering quick apologies to every single girl in leather skirt.

When you reached very front of the stage, Hana grinned at you. “See? Told you we’ll be in first row. God, I haven’t been to punk concert for a very long time.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You've been to a punk concert before?” you asked, confused with her words. Hana seemed to be taken aback by this question, like she just realised she had said something she hadn't indent to.

“Yeah. In high school. Like I said, long time ago.”

“Why didn’t you–” you started but immadietly stopped, when the lights went out followed by the oooh! from gathered people. “Oh my God it's happening,” you half-whispered, clutching Hana's hand.

“Youjust referred to The Office without watching it.”

“Shut up!” you muttered, ignoring Hana's giggle.

Next thing you knew, sharp lights shimmered and few, firsts accords of electric guitar resonated through the bar. You absentmindedly squeezed Hana's hand tighter. Then, more lights flashed, along with the thumbing sound of drums and the whole stage illuminated with bright, silver colors.

You didn't even realise you were holding your breath the entire time. You eventually got back to your senses when one of the boys started singing an unknown to you song, probably self-written by them. His hair was pink and you recognized him as Jimin, remembering the photo Hoseok had sent you where he had captioned everyone. Jimin was leaning towards the micstand lazily, like he was purposely doing it this way. His guitar was dropped on his back nonchalantly.

Next was Jungkook, the youngest in the group. His mop of black hair was nodding along to the rhythm of the music, his eyes and attention solemnly focused on his guitar. He didn’t wear any jacket and his muscles on ink-covered arms flexed with his every move.

On the other side of the stage stood Namjoon, the one who Hoseok lived with and referred as the leader of the group. He also had some tattoos on his forearms but not as many as Jungkook. He smiled lightly at the crowd when someone shouted his name, showing the tiniest of dimples on his cheeks.

And there it was the last member. Hoseok.

Your breath hitched in your throat. You had seen him dancing a few times before in Just Dance, ever so passionate but this was different kind of passion. He was fierce, completely devoted to what he was playing, hitting the notes like his life depended on it. He didn’t had any tattoos adoring his skin and his ears weren’t pierced like his friends' but he had an exeptional energy in him, power that he emphasized with every move, every tap of his drumsticks. For you, he was the most divine of them all, the brightest spot on the stage. A born performer, flesh and bones.

The song was catchy, something quite similar to the ones Hoseok had sent you after many ‘pretty pleases' from you. Jimin and Jungkook's voices were blending together just fine and you found yourself bopping to the rhythm of the music until you felt Hana's hand on your shoulder. You turned around in her direction with a smile that quickly disappeared when you saw her expression. She looked like she had just seen a ghost. Even in the dimmed lighting you could distingiush she was paler than before.

She leaned towards your ear and half-yelled, trying to outshot the crowd, “I need to get some fresh. I don't feel well.”

You looked at her with worriedly. “I'll go with you,” you declared but Hana stopped you.

“No, stay here,” she protested firmly. “Enjoy the show. I'll wait for you outside until it's over.”

“You sure?” you asked, earning a nodd from her along with a light smile that didn’t look much convincing but before you could say anything else, Hana was making her way through sweaty, bouncing bodies again. You watched anxiously as her blonde hair disappeared between the mass of nameless people and then, the song was over. You released a long breath and glanced at the stage.

Namjoon took the mic and tapped on it a few times. “Ehm, hi. We're Punk's not dead, as you know probably,” he chuckled lightly, making you smile, despite the uneasy feeling in your chest about Hana. “I'm Namjoon and I’m the leader of the group. I thought it could be nice if I introduce everyone before we start so... here we go. On the left, there's Jimin,” He pointed at the pink-haired man and audience, mainly female attendants, cheered loudly. Jimin smirked lopsidedly.

Namjoon continued, “Next there's Jungkook,” The youngest lifted his head and smiled boyishly in bunny-like manner, scrunching his nose in process. He looked familiar, you thought to yourself. Strange.

“And, our amazing drummer: Hoseok!” Namjoon presented and you screamed upon hearing Hoseok's name before you could realise what on Earth you were doing. Hoseok stood up from his seat and grinned broadly, waving to the crowd. Then, miraculously, his eyes landed on you and if that was even possible, his smile visible widened. You thanked whatever gods that existed he couldn’t see the way your cheeks flushed.

“Thank you for coming here today. I hope you'll have a great time,” Namjoon said. “And now, we are going to play our new song called Cigarettes after sex*, written and self-composed by Jimin. Enjoy.” he finished, nodding to his friends.

The song was beautiful, it carried the lash of melancholy and sadness behind every single word that Jimin sang and he visibly felt it too, making it seem even more real by the sheer emotions of heartache written on his beautiful features.

They played a few more songs after that one, some of them were covers of the bands you were familiar with thanks to Hoseok and his signature t-shirts. Before you could blink an eye, it was over and Namjoon was thanking everyone one more time for coming and then they disappeared behind the black curtains after receiving a loud applause for their performance.

You stayed like that for a while, still basking in aftermath of everything that had just happened, humming to yourself some melody from one of the songs you had heard tonight. You turned your back to the stage, watching other people leaving the bar. Lost in your own world, you definitely didn’t hear footsteps behind you.

“Did you enjoy your time, princess?”

You jumped in your place, twirling to the direction of the voice you knew so damn well. Hoseok was smirking at you while crouching down on the stage. His friends were also there, behind him, packing their stuff.

When you calmed down your breathing enough, you shouted, “What the fuck, Hoseok?! I told you to not do things like that to me!”

He only chuckled in response, smiling cockily at the furious flush on your cheeks. “I asked you a question,” he reminded.

What was it? Ah, right, he asked about the concert. You pursued lips, crossing your arms over chest. You wanted to say it was showstopping, spectacular and all those adjectives Lady Gaga had used in that famous meme video of hers but you didn’t.

“It was decent.”

A smirk appeared on Hoseok's face. “Decent, huh? Wouldn't say so, after seeing you cheering so loudly in first row,” he teased. ‘’I'm flattered. I’ve never had such devoted fan of myself.”

He thought that pink blush which colored your cheeks was cute. Fuck, you were cute, trying to cover your embarrassment with an unamused expression.

“I cheered for your friends, you know? Not you.” you mocked but it was pointless, he was already standing up from his position, knowing what was the truth.

“Come on, let's go to the backstage,” He made quotation mark on the word backstage while saying it. You grimaced. “There’s nice after party setting up there,” he tried again, this time pouting slightly and you eventually gave up. You had promised you would come, after all. Hoseok grinned when you followed his footsteps, walking to the supply base at the back of the bar.

“Jungkookie!" Hoseok shouted before he twisted the knob, whirling around for a quick moment. Jungkook lifted his head up in Hoseok's direction. “Don't forget to close the door when you finish packing!”

The youngest member nodded, going back to his previous work.

Beside you and Hoseok's bandmates, inside the ‘backstage’ was the same handsome bartender from earlier, Namjoon's brother as you assumed, and a woman with dark, shoulder-length hair that stood next to Namjoon, leaning into his body. He had his arms wrapped around her, talking to his brother about something. She introduced herself as Minhee, Namjoon's girlfriend, extending her hand to you in friendly gesture when you approached them with Hoseok.

“Oh, we met before, by the bar. I’m Seokjin, the owner of this lovely place.” Namjoon's brother, Seokiin, said, shaking your hand.

“Hyung, you can't give it a miss, can you,” Namjoon grumbled behind his back but Seokjin ignored him. That wasn’t probably the first time he flexed about owning a bar, you thought to yourself.

“How did you like the concert, darling?” Seokjin asked you suddenly.

You rushed to reply. “Oh, it was really nice! I’ve never been to anything like that before but I enjoyed it very much.” you responded. Hoseok muttered something about you being a liar under his breath but you acted like you didn’t hear him. “I really liked the second song, the slow one.” you added, averting your gaze to Jimin who was sitting with his head bowed down in front of the vodka bottle.

Seokjin patted him on the shoulder. “Yah, did you hear that Jimin-ah? You’ve got a fan of your sad songs here!” he said, breaking into laughter but Namjoon stopped him by sending his brother a warning look. Jimin though barely even acknowledged his or your words, lifting his head up for a brief moment and eyeing your figure without any emotion on his face. Then he got back to the glass of alcohol again, pouring the substance into his mouth in one go.

“He broke up with his girlfriend like six months ago or something and still hasn’t quite move on,” Hoseok whispered into your ear. You let out an “Oh,”, sending one last apologetic smile to Jimin, even though he wasn’t looking at you at all.

Hoseok motioned you to sit by the table with others and you positioned yourself between Namjoon's girlfriend and Hoseok. The only absent person seemed to be Jungkook who was probably still fumbling with packing their stuff.

The conversation was oscillating around the concert. Hoseok mentioned that the audience had been much bigger than the last time and Namjoon kept babbling about some technical issue with his guitar that you couldn’t understand.

“Don't worry. I've been with him for three years and I still know shit about what he's talking about too," Minhee said to you, probably after seeing your clueless expression. You both bursted out into laughter.

You were supposed to ask her how had she and Namjoon had met but Seokjin interrupted you, walking in with a bottle of champagne.

“Where the hell is this kid Jungkook?” he grumbled. Hoseok quickly explained he was packing their stuff on stage when he last had seen him. Seokjin hummed and placed the bottle on the table. “And what about your blonde friend, darling?” he directed next question to you.

You froze in place.

Holy shit. You completely forgot about Hana.

You didn’t respond to Seokjin, so he assumed you hadn’t heard him and went back to opening the champagne bottle.

You pulled out your phone from the pursue and cried out in mortification after seeing the messages.

[22:11pm] Hana: I was at mcdonalds across the street lol im heading to the bar now

[22:11pm] Hana: come up for me please

[22:15pm] Hana: ???

10 minutes ago.

“Fuck!” you muttered under your breath, frantically typing a response.

“Is everything ok?” Hoseok asked, his voice laced with concern.

You shook your head. “I forgot to come up for my friend after the concert. She wasn’t feeling well so she left and stayed outside.” you hastily explained, already standing up from your seat, clutching your phone in hand. Hoseok followed after you.

You pushed the door open, although the sight you saw behind them wasn’t anything you could ever expected. The surprised words escaped Hoseok's and your mouth simultaneously.

“Hana?”

“Jungkook?”

They stood facing each other, looking like they were interrupted by you mid conversation, probably in too close proximity for people supposed to be strangers. Hana's astonished face leaned out from behind Jungkook's tall body in the direction of the voices. Slowly, like she didn’t expect to be caught this way. And that was weird, beacuse she looked like she didn’t want to be seen in Jungkook's presence by the others, like their close proximity was something that shouldn't have been acknowledged.

Jungkook turned around as well, however ever so recultanty. And then, when you saw his face clearly now, jet-black hair and inked arms, it all crashed you like a wave. That was why he seemed to look so familiar. You knew him, maybe not personally, but you knew who he was. The boy from Hana's photograph she had pinned to her cork board when you had been living together. A beach with crystal blue sea behid their backs, the same boy yet with less tattoos than now, carrying your friend on his back, both grinning to the camera like it had been the happiest moment of their lives. Until one day Hana was gone and so was the photograph.

You felt like you were interrupting something too intimate for you to step in with your shoes like that. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but Hoseok helped you out instead. And you thanked him for that mentally because you weren’t sure of your mouth anymore.

“Looks like your friend is safe and sound.”

Hana snapped out of her previous shocked haze upon hearing his words and automatically composured herself. She took a few meassured steps away from Jungkook. Gone was the slight shock on her face, she was back to her calmed persona. “Yeah, I'm all good. I was about to text you I’m going home.” she said, her words directed to you. She then exchanged quick glances with Jungkook, glances that could look the simplest from other people’s perspective but not for you.

Hoseok though, fortunately, didn’t seem to feel something was apparently off here. It was for the better he thought like that. “So you won't stay to celebrate with us?” he asked Hana.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched ever so slightly. He was still standing there, unsure of what to do

Hana shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I’m still tired and jet-lagged from my flight so I will just wish you great time and go.”

“You sure? I can go with you too, if you want,” you suggested after containing yourself enough to finally vocalize some thoughts. But Hana only smiled at you. Forcefully, which didn’t miss your attention.

“It's okay. I want you to have fun. I already called a cab for myself anyway” she reassured.

Hoseok protested. “Someone could drive you home. I’m sure Jungkook wouldn't mind–”

“It's fine, really.” Hana said firmly and you knew by the clench of her fists she was slowly losing her patience. At the same time, Jungkook's eyes flickered ever so slightly after hearing his hyung's words and then went back to his previous unreadable stare.

Seeing Hoseok opened his mouth to protest, you took his wrist, hoping he would take the hint and not add anything more.

“I must really go now. Take care of Y/N and have fun.” Hana smiled politely, looking at Hoseok and he reciprocated the gesture. She didn’t really acknowledge Jungkook at all, even though he had somehow his gaze fixated on her the whole time. But Hana did that all pursposelly, so Hoseok couldn’t suspect anything. She wasn’t stupid after all. Well crafted actress knew how to act.

She came up to you, hugging you briefly. “We'll talk tomorrow.” she whispered into your ear because she knew that you couldn’t be fooled so easily, that you felt something was not right from the very beginning since she had announced her comeback from the States.

Hana waved one last time to you, exiting the bar. You could swear Jungkook's eyes lingered on her figure a little too long to be considered unbothered, until he turned around and went back to the stage. You prayed Hoseok wasn’t going to ask him what had he been talking about with Hana or why did he even decide to approach her like that.

“Come on. Let's go back. Jungkookie will close the door.” Hoseok said instead.

You listened, letting him take your wrist and walk to the supply base for the second time tonight. You wondered for a moment if Jungkook was going to chase after Hana, but you shook your mind from those thoughts. It wasn’t your life to make decisions and judge them.

A little while after you sat on your seat again, Jungkook came back as well and you somehow felt the rush of relief swimming through your whole body. He slumped down next to Jimin on the couch and said something to him you couldn't make out exactly, but pink-haired man laughed bitterly at that, filling his best friend's glass to the brim.

Next two hours you spent there passed like a blurr. You kept talking with Namjoon's girlfriend practically the whole time. You found out Minhee was studying medicine and she had met Namjoon through some discussion club she had joined in her freshman year. It had been attraction from the first disagreement, as she described it cheekily.

When Namjoon called for Minhee to talk about something on the side, you averted your attention to Hoseok who was sitting in front of his empty glass and scrolling through the phone, clearly discontent with you intentionally avoiding his attempts to tease you about something you had said, or avoiding him in general.

“Aren't you drinking anything?” you asked him with raised eyebrows.

Hoseok snorted. “Someone has to drive you home, princess.”

“Bullshit. I can take the cab.”

“Well then, I don’t feel like drinking anyway.”

You eyed him carefully and then it hit you. “Oh my God,” you blurted out, trying to stifle the giggles blubbering in your throat. “You are not drinking because you are a lightweight!” you accused, not even hiding your amusement now.

“That's not true,” Hoseok grumbled but his red ears gave him away. He was a bad liar.

You pushed his chest with your index finger. “Admit it!”

Hoseok looked at the ceiling and sighed heavily. “Fine, I am. And what about it?”

You giggled. It was probably some champagne mixed with wine you had drank with Minhee speaking through you but you didn’t falter when you said, “Nothing at all. That's cute.”

Hoseok frowned. “Cute?”

“Yeah, cute. You're cute when you're flustered.”

Hoseok parted his lips in both disbelief and annoyance because relatively speaking, you took it out from his mouth. It was his remark, for God's sake, he was the one supposed to say things like that to you. He hadn't drunk even a drop except one, symbolic glass of champagne yet he wanted to argue with you about it like five years old child. Because if anything, you were prettier and yes, cuter than him, and he had a sudden urge to spell it out for you.

Yet he faltered for a moment after hearing abrupt glass crashing from the other corner of the room. You looked in that direction too, seeing half-conscious Jimin slumped down on the couch, Jungkook sitting next to him and saying things to him you didn’t hear. You could make out only “hyung” and “please, calm down” falling from younger's mouth.

Jimin seemed like he had no idea about what was going on around him. When he opened his eyes for a moment they were bloodshot and glassy, probably from too much alcohol he had drank before, or maybe even from something else entirely. Then he murmured something to Jungkook and black-haired boy sighed, standing up from his position and approaching Namjoon and Minhee furiously talking about something in the far corner of the room.

“Here we go again,” Hoseok breathed next to you and you scrunched your eyebrows, focusing your attention on the scene in front of you.

“Hyung, please–”

“No, Jungkook. We can't do that again.”

“Please, I swear it's the last time. He won't let me take him home unless it's with her,” Jungkook pleaded. “It'll worsen anytime soon. I don't want to see him like this."

Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you think I don't know that Jungkook?! Last time was supposed to be last. And now it's happening again. We can’t continue it like this,” he said, looking in Jimin's direction where Seokjin was trying now to convince him to let go of the half empty vodka bottle Jimin was clutching tightly to his chest.

“Hyung...”

“Stop arguing. I already texted her like 20 minutes ago when I heard he started talking about her again. She's on her way,” Minhee interrupted. “But this has to end. He–they can’t live like that.” she said and Jungkook breathed out heavily with relief, thanking her over and over.

Hoseok hummed next to you, making you jump slightly on your seat from the sudden sound so close in your proximity. “What's happening?” you asked him and he let out a long sigh.

“I don't think you want to see that. I should take you home.”

But before you could answer, someone banged loudly on the back door. Seokjin moved from his seat and opened them, letting inside a girl around your age, dressed in all black. Her hair was dyed in red and she didn’t have any make up on, assuming by the ungodly hour she might have been woken up or she hadn't gone to bed at all.

“Who’s that?” you whispered to Hoseok’s ear.

“That's Nari,” he answered simply, like her name was carrying all the needed information without giving into other details. “Jimin's ex girlfriend and probably the only source of light in his life.”

Nari moved automatically, like it definitely wasn’t the first time she was in similar situation. She crunched down on the floor in front of Jimin's slumped body and touched his thigh lightly, murmuring his name. Jimin's eyes snapped open at that and he blinked a few times, focusing on the sight before him, like he couldn't actually believe she was there, with him, like his head was messing with him and betraying the bloodshot eyes.

“Nari,” he muttered and it sounded unsure, pained. “You're here. You came.”

“Yes, I’m here.” she replied with a soft smile, standing up to sit next to him on the couch.

Jimin's hands reached for her, cupping her face in his shaky palms, thumbs stroking rosy cheeks, checking if she was really here, flesh and blood. “You dyed your hair,” he said softly with croaked voice, putting a strand behind her ear. “You look beautiful.”

It all felt too intimate for you, like you were stepping into a scene you weren’t suppose to be in. You quickly averted your gaze somewhere else. In the corner of your eye you spotted Jungkook looking at what was happening in front of him with blank expression. He had seen it probably many times before, after all. Suddenly, strangled sobs echoed through the room and everyone involuntarily snapped their heads into direction of it.

Nari was hugging Jimin's shaking body, rocking him back and forth as he cried out words into the material of her jacket.

“Please, don't leave me.”

“I won't. I’m here. It's okay,” she kept murmuring to his ear until his breath slowed down enough so she could say, “Let's go home.”

She motioned for Jungkook and he obliged, helping her lift Jimin's limp body from the couch like he weighted nothing. They left without a word, just like that, and heavy silence fell in the room. No one was in right mood to continue celebrating, not after everything that they had just witnessed.

Namjoon was the first one to break the silence. “We will be going. It's been a long day.” he said, placing his hand on Minhee's waist.

“Indeed.” Seokjin agreed. “I’m gonna go upstairs to my place too. I’ll clean up in the morning.”

Hoseok also stood up from his seat, putting his palm on your shoulder. “Come on. It's time for us too.”

You nodded, rushing to bid everyone goodbyes.

Outside, in the middle of the night, where all the demons had left humans bodies making them vulnerable for the bracketing world, you took Hoseok's hand in yours. It was warm, despite the coldness of the air.

“What would you say if we took a walk by the river? I need to clear my mind.”

The puffs of air around your face when you spoke were telling you it was a bad idea, but Hoseok smiled in response.

“I’ll lead the way.”

Long walks by the river were meant for warm summer nights when sun set lately and rose in the very morning before you could blink an eye open. They were meant for the steamy nights, when people didn’t have to worry about the coldness, when they could wander under the starry sky with bare shoulders and heavy eyelids.

October absolutely wasn’t reasonable time for the walks in the middle of the night but this time he weather was kind, merciful. There was no sight of the frost and even though it wasn’t the most pleasant aura, even though hands had to be tucked deep in pockets of the jackets, everything could be bearable.

Maybe somehow, when you reached that point in your life, circumstances stopped being the most crucial, as long as you were with the right person.

Boulevards by the Han River were common spot for the citizens and tourists but not in this time of the year, not when fall was threatening everyone as a trailer of the winter. Colorful lights illuminating themselves on the surface of the water were always the same, no matter which part of the year it was; always mesmerizing, always spectacular even for the people seeing them every single day.

This night however, they seemed to shine not as bright as the stars.

“I feel bad for Jimin and this girl,” you said, breathing out the puffs of air in the process. It had been silent between you and Hoseok since you had left the disaster of a party until this very moment, when you finally gathered up enough courage and inhaled cold air to clear your mind and vocalize your thoughts. “Do you know why did they break up?” you asked Hoseok.

“I don't know the details, just overall,” he answered, keeping his gaze ahead of him. “The only person who knows the truth is probably Jungkook but he had never told us anything.”

You hummed, digging your fists into the pocket of your jacket deeper.

Hoseok continued after a while. “I didn’t lie when I said she was the only source of light for Jimin. Beside her and music, he has nothing to cling onto in his life. There's no Jimin without music. Always has been.”

The images from the previous hours shimmered behind your eyelids. Jimin onstage, feeling himself, singing like he wanted to burn his throat dry, playing the guitar like he wished his fingers grated on the strings. A fierce passion in his eyes, as if he wasn't doing it out of the habit; losing himself in the drumming rhythm because that was his only ability. Then you saw the energy slowly draining away from his body, you saw a broken man, vulnerable to the world he had never had any intention to care about, now caring about him.

You wondered about the others. Was music their one true love and burden?

“What about your friends then? Is music really that important for them too?”

Hoseok thought about an answer for a little while until he decided to respond. “Jungkook grew up with Jimin in the same hometown. Childhood friends, always sticking together through ups and downs, younger doing exactly the same after the older. Jimin always took care of Jungkook and now Jungkook is watching by Jimin.”

You let your mind wander for a moment to Hana. How did she meet Jungkook? There was no doubt they knew each other before she had become your roommate. Did she know Jimin too, if they were raised in the same town? Another couple of questions you were yet to ask but this could wait for now.

“The band and music it's their whole life. They aren't like Namjoon, level-headed with actual plans after he finishes his law studies. Music is just a hobby he's going to put off once he's out of uni.” Hoseok added and there was some sadness about the way he did it, like they were another words at the tip of his tongue he wouldn't dare to say aloud because when unspoken, they hurt less.

“And you?”

Hoseok raised his eyebrows. “Me?”

“Yeah, you. Who am I talking to?” you sassed lightly. “How do you see yourself in three years from now?” you asked and Hoseok chuckled the same way he did when you questioned him about it a month ago in Blue Side. Bitterly.

You motioned for him to sit on one of the benches standing by the boulevards.

“Do you have everything planned for the next three years?” Hoseok countered instead of actually answering you. He waited for you to roll your eyes but you did the exact opposite.

“Well, my mum always tells me that it's good to set up your goals. Even though sometimes you might disappoint yourself when they turn out all wrong.”

Hoseok chuckled. “There's a ballerina speaking through you, princess. And motivational speaker, too.”

“Maybe, but that's not my point,” you fired back, twirling around on the bench so you could sit cross-legged in front of him. “So, Jung Hoseok, hip-hop choreographer wanna be and passionate drummer, will you tell me what are your plans for the future?” you asked again. When you saw him hesitate, you added, ‘”Come on, pretend it's like our 100 questions game. I asked you a question and you shall answer.”

Hoseok sighed heavily. “I think I told you once that I just live the moment,”

“But everyone has some dreams,” you complained. Go on, tell me something boy, are you happy in this modern world,” you sing-songed, breaking into loud laughter in the process that made him chuckle shortly.

Hoseok stared for a few seconds blankly into the calm surface of the river before him, watching as colorful lights changed from blue to green. Sadness blending into hope. He took a deep breath before he spoke.

“Remember when I told you I had moved to Seoul to attend dance school there?” You nodded. “And how I told my parents I was going to study business really hard so they could allow me to learn dancing?” Another nod. “Well, my parents were never quite fond of my passions. First it was drums but they knew from the beginning I treated it more like a hobby than a future career, so they let me do it. Then dancing came. I found something I really wanted to pursue in my life and they, how to put this, never quite accepted my choice.” he said, looking at his hands folded on his lap.

You had never seen him more uneasy, the smiling Hoseok who teased you and and spoke about music with glint in his eyes was long gone and you didn't like this version of him at all.

“You know, I’ve got an older sister. She was-is the apple of my parents eyes. The better child, the best daughter they could ever imagine. She studied abroad, speaks English and Japanese, has a well paid job that makes her afford a nice apartment in Seoul on her own. They wanted me to be like her too, but I guess I never came up to their expectations.” The words he never willed to tell, slipped from his mouth just like that, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue.

There was a sadness coming from his voice and you found yourself wishing you could swipe it off his face because it didn’t suit him, because gone was Hoseok that made you laugh and played his drums like his life depended on it. Hoseok who conveyed his fierce passion for dancing to the kids he was teaching. All the layers he was putting on every day were slowly slipping off him.

And in that moment you thought how unfair this world was. Your parents gave you wings to fly, to make your dreams come true but his parents were trying to cut them off his whole life.

“I went to the university so I could finally please them, so they would say: ‘Hoseok-ah, we’re so proud of you!’ but I eventually realised it's not for me. That I can't live like this. I met Namjoon, then the rest of the boys. We made a team and I've never felt more free,” Hoseok confessed and for the first time this night, he looked you in the eyes honestly, deeply. “So if you asked me, what's my dream, I would say I just want to be happy. I’ve never wanted to be the best. I just wish I was doing what I love the most, dancing and music.”

You opened your mouth to say something but he raised his hand, stopping you. “If you want to pity me, don’t. I don’t need this.” he said, but it was your turn to shake your head.

“No, I want to say something,” you firmly protested. You lifted your index finger up, pointing at the blackboard sky. There was determination in your voice, a need to convince this boy he was worth much more than he thought. “See those stars? There are literally millions of them on the sky, looking exactly the same from our perspective yet we all admire them. And I’ll tell you more. Every single one is different, special on its own terms,” you said, all the time beating the air with your hands. You ignored the way Hoseok stared at you with raised eyebrows and continued, “Now think about the sun. Yes, it is the biggest star, giant thing and the centre of our solar system but it’ll burn your eyes if you look at it for too long. Those significant stars won't do it and we all wish our dreams to come true while looking at them falling, not at the sun.”

A small smile appeared on Hoseok's face and you reciprocated that, sighing softly. “What I’m trying to say is that you don't have to be the greatest to be admired and respected. You are your own star.” you trailed off, almost whispering the last words like you were afraid of vocalizing them.

You were staring into each other eyes for a whole minute, before you got insecure and looked away with flushed cheeks. “I'm sorry. That was my probably still a little drunk self speaking, don’t mind me. Hana would say it is also my zodiac sign's personality trait.” You put your hands on your cheeks, finding them warm from embarrassment despite the coldness of the night.

If you glanced in Hoseok's direction, you would see him grinning broadly. Who was this girl, he had no idea. He just felt she was going to be someone special for him. His own green flashlight illuminating on the clear surface of the water.

“No, it's okay. I really appreciate that. Thank you.” he said, making you hesitantly turned to face him with raised eyebrows.

“You're welcome. I guess.”

“So,” Hoseok drawled, pointing his chin at you and then on the sky. “How do stars align tonight for Aquariuses?” he asked out of the blue. You thanked it was the middle of the night, so he couldn’t witness the way you furiously blushed.

“Why don't you look for yourself?” you whispered, staring up at the dark, starry sky.

But why would he look at the stars, if for him all of them hid in your eyes?

At some point, next weeks turned into a blurr while gloomy November was approaching, blending everything into grey reality. Life seemed to move on its own and it could be thought that things went back to normal again but deep down, behind set up facades, there was so much more left unspoken than revealed, lying bare and exposed on the table.

You balanced your life between classes at the university, ballet rehearsals after hours and doing your part time job on weekends. With the midterm exams getting closer and closer, you somehow still managed to find time to hang out with Hoseok.

It was weird for you, to spend so much of your free time drinking coffees at Blue Side, eating ramen after practices on Fridays or just listening to him babbling about some other hilarious story involving him and his friends as you walked together to the underground station, with your hand in his under the umbrella, referencing to Rihanna's song probably too many times than necessary.

And normally, looking at you from afar and up close, seeing the intimacy you shared in your stares and muffled laughters, someone could swear you were already dating, that this hanging out carried so much more meaning than you would like to admit. But for some reason, neither Hoseok nor you wanted to speak about this aloud, to give your relationship a label much more bigger than simple friendship.

People around you noticed, obviously, it was hard not to. Some of them teased, others decided not to bring up the subject for the sake of not starting a storm in a teacup.

And life went on like that, day by day, as fall was cleaning the world from the last remains of summer, behind blurry windows a new spring was blossoming for two people.

In the middle of November Hana moved out from your appartment after composing her life enough to afford a place on her own. She got a role in a theater, doing rehearsals every weekend and keeping her mind busy with work during weekdays, because she indeed had a lot to handle since she had come back. And certain raven-haired boy being present again in her life wasn't helping in this situation at all. If anything, his position in the equation made everything much more twisted and complicated.

While your friend was burried deep in her scripts and old blurrs of memories, you were equally engulfed with paper work for your exams. You would have been probably still staring at the same pages for the whole night, if you hadn’t received a message from no one other than Jung Hoseok himself.

[18:56pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: get your ass up from the couch and go out with me today

[18:56pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: theres some punk rock concert today organized on the campus of YOUR uni

[18:58pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: namjoon gave me his tickets since he cant go with his gf

[18:59pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: actually im surprised you didn’t tell me anything about this concert. shame on you princess

There was a string of emojis after the last text and you rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your heart fluttered in your chest when you read go out with me, but you eventually composed yourself. Because after all this time, you thought it meant nothing. Simple hanging out, nothing more, nothing less.

[18:59pm] me: fyi i need to study

[18:59pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: come on one free night wont make a big difference

When you weren’t responding for a while, leaving him on read, he typed:

[19:03pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: pretty pleaseee

But he didn’t know you were already in the bathroom, notes long forgotten on the couch.

“They were sooo bad!”

“Hey, don’t be mean. At least they tried!”

“Oh please, I’m not punk rock expert but I know this Paradise City cover sucked.”

You were walking out of the small campus venue for the concerts, laughing until your lungs burned and cheeks hurt from smiling. The concert didn’t last long, just a few covers and one self composed song, more was actually happening right when you decided to go, leaving the ongoing party behind your backs.

“But they organized free beer. I think I might forgive them,” you added, slurring your words a little and occasionally bumping into Hoseok in the process of trying to stay steady on your feet.

Drinking wasn’t probably the smartest idea you could think of after considering two facts. One: Hoseok hadn't drunk even a sip beacuse he was driving. Two: you had an awful habit of becoming too honest under the influence. And combining those two things was like sitting on a bomb and waiting for it to explode any minute.

You sat in Hoseok’s car with heavy exhale of relief. “Remind me to never drink that much again when I have to study the next day.” you mumbled, closing your eyes and leaning your head on the window.

“Noted.” Hoseok sat down as well, smirking to himself. He reached for the keys but your next words stopped him.

“Can we like, stay here for a while? In your car I mean.” you asked with hesitation in your voice and Hoseok's eyebrows rose high.

“Why?”

“Because it feels nice here. And maybe I don't wanna go back just yet.” The words slipped out from your mouth so casually that you didn’t even noticed the change in the atmosphere. To hell with consequences and aftermaths, to hell with becoming vulnerable when alcohol was swimming in your veins.

Hoseok smiled, even though you couldn’t see him. “Fine. But puke in here and I swear to God–”

“Geez, I hadn’t drink that much,” you snapped, opening your eyes. “Turn on some music, mister drummer. Hit me with that punk rock hits.”

Maybe you had drunk that much after all.

Hoseok chuckled to himself, opening his Spotify and connecting it to the car's radio. “What do you have in mind?”

“Do I look like an expert?” you retorted for the second time this night and Hoseok rolled his eyes. “Just put it on shuffle and I’ll tell you what I like.”

He did as he was told and soon the heavy beats of something that said Stairway to Heaven lighted up on the screen in front of you. You scrunched your eyebrows. “Stairway to Heaven, Highway to Hell, what’s next? Freeway to Purgatory?”

There was a moment of silence before you erupted into laughter. “Fuck, that was funny. Admit it.” you said, wiping the tears that had gathered in the corners of your eyes.

“I'm pretty sure someone had come up with this joke before.”

“God, you’re no fun. Only intellectuals can understand this type of humor and unfortunately, you aren’t one.”

Hoseok ignored your words, changing the song and this one you recognized more than well. “Leave it!” you blurted, causing him to smirk.

“Ah, right. I forgot you’re that original,” he said in mocking tone.

Your lips turned into a scoff. “Hey, don’t disrespect Arctic Monkeys’ AM album this way. That's a masterpiece of modern discography, better than your ‘classics’ sang by old dudes. Alex Turner is hot at least.” You pointed your index finger at him accusingly. When he was about to disagree, you added, “Besides, you have this on your playlist, so don't try to bullshit me right now. You like it as well.”

Hoseok sighed in defeat. “Okay. I wanna be yours it's a nice song. I admit it.”

“Yeah. It is,” you breathed, closing your eyes for a second, basking in the moment. “I always wanted someone to fuck me to Arctic Monkeys.”

Before you could stop yourself, the words escaped your mouth and your heartbeat immediately quickened in panic. Fuck, had you really said that out loud? The look of pure surprise mixed with amusement on Hoseok's face were telling you that you indeed revealed that you wanted to get dicked down while Arctic Monkeys played in the background. And of all people you knew, you had to do it in his presence.

Screw your drank thoughts and fantasies, screw stupid string of fate that always played games with you, even now.

You tried to compose yourself a little, acting completely nonchalant about what had just happened. You wore a disguise of unbotherness as best you could (which was pointless, your flushed cheeks and uneasy way you squirmed on your seat said it all for you).

You wished Hoseok didn’t react, that he somehow had misheard your drunken rumbling but it was all foolish hopes.

“Careful what you wish for, princess, because you might just get it.” he whispered and you could swear his voice was lower now, it carried husskiness that weren’t there before. It wasn’t a warning.

It was a threat.

You gulped, your face heating up instantly even more, if that was possible. Suddenly it was hard to breathe in a limited space of his car and you wanted to get out, to run away from him as fast as you could muster and hide, not standing face to face with him ever again.

But at the same time you couldn’t shake off the thought how good and right would it feel if you pressed your lips against his now, run your tongue through the seam of his mouth just to hear him groan in response, just to feel his teeth nipping the skin on your neck while his fingers were digging marks on your hips.

You wanted him, oh, God how much you did, but you had to stop yourself before you made a big mistake.

The atmosphere was thick and heavy with unresolved tension, ready to snap in a minute if only someone made a wrong move. His words rang in your head and you wished you had never left your house that night in first place. Was he for real? Or had he said that only to make fun of you after?

You were too scared to look in his eyes but if you did, you would see in them the raw desire swimming in his dark orbs. And if you did, you would know just how sure of his words he actually was.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you regained your composure as best as you could and muttered, “I don't feel well. Can you drive me home now?” Your tone wasn’t probably much convincing, if anything it sounded weak and strangled, so you added to lighten up the mood, “You don't want me to puke in here, do you?” and forced out a chuckle.

Hoseok only nodded in response, reaching for the keys and turning on the engine. If he was disappointed, he hid it pretty well. After a few minutes of ride back to your home, there was mute between you, except for the music still playing from the radio. His words not even for a second left your head and you replayed them again and again just to make you more and more confused with each time you tried to understand the hidden motive behind them.

Hoseok was hard to read, you realised that since he had became strangely silent after you asked him about his plans for the future on your first coffee meeting at Blue Side. Now you knew why. He’d said he had a lot to reveal about himself yet, after all.

When you bid him short goodbye and finally reached the doors of your apartment, you crunched down on the ground after closing them and shut your eyes tightly. Somehow, tears started to ran down your face and you found yourself clutching your phone and dialing the only number you could think about in this moment.

“Why are you calling me in the middle of the night?” Hana's voice was hoarse, she had been woken up from her slumber without a doubt. “You know I go to sleep earlier than you,” There was a sniffle on the other line and she changed her tone immediately. “What's wrong, bub? Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying,” you tried to protest shakily but there was no point in denying when you sounded like that.

“What happened?” You heard Hana asking softly.

Another wave of tears jolted your body, smearing mascara all down your cheeks and when you calmed down enough to speak clearly, you mumbled, “I told Hoseok that I always wanted someone to fuck me to Arctic Monkeys.”

“Okay…? And how did he react?”

Another sob. “He said I should be careful what I wish for.”

There was a bit of silence before Hana sighed on the other side of the line. “That's not the end of the world. You’ve done worse things in your life.”

“But that's different this time.” you cried out hysterically.

Hana smiled to herself even though you couldn’t see her now. She knew why it was different. She was aware for a while now, but she needed you to say this out loud.

A loud cry echoed through the quiet apartment before you finally said what had been lying on the tip of your tongue for a while now.

“It's different because I think I really like him.”

And fresh fall of tears streamed down your cheeks.

---

a/n: aaaah! it’s finally here! i was supposed to post this by the end of february but my laptop got broken and i got a new one yesterday so im sorry for the delay:( i hope you like it!

ps. second part is coming in two or weeks! love you, julia. xx

#hoseok smut #bts smut #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #btsbookclub #bangtanhq #btswriterscollective #hyungsmutsociety #hoseok fluff #hoseok angst #bts scenario #bts fanfic #hoseok x reader #hoseok fic #my writing

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