#if I’m gonna have him on my Home Screen he should be partially naked

[jeschalynn]

another “I play otome games for the captivating story and gameplay” moment

[loveisblindfanfictionbka]

Love Is Blind: Chapter Three

Marcus smirked as he watched Chris mess with the straw in his drink, “Man, whoever she is has got you messed up bad.”

Chris jerked his head up and frowned in confusion, “huh?”

“You have completely zoned out on me, Bro. What’s going on?”

“Just thinking.”

“So your divorce? What happened?”

“I wasn’t any good for her. It just wasn’t gonna work out.”

“How’d she take it?”

“Not good. I’m surprised she hasn’t put a hit out on me.”

Marcus chuckled, “that woman loves you too much.”

“Loved.”

“Loves. I said what I said.”

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“Do you know she hasn’t dated since your divorce?”

“No. I never bothered to keep up with her.”

“Really?”

“I don’t have the right to. Why keep up with her life if I didn’t have the decency to stay in it?”

“You got a point.”

“So who is the new girl?”

“There is no new girl. Just somebody I’m getting to know.”

“So there is a new girl.”

“No.”

“Chris, we can play with semantics all night but be honest, do you like her?”

“Yes but we’re just friends.”

“For now.”

“She’s still in love with her ex-husband. I’m not in control of my life and neither of us are looking for anything serious.”

“Then what’s the harm in making her your new girl. You both know whats the deal up front.”

“Besides she doesn't want to meet me anyway.”

“You’ve never met?”

“I met her online. I only have a vague idea of what she looks like but we’ve never actually seen each other or spoke to each other.”

“Really? I didn’t know you were into that.”

“I set it up out of boredom but I got lucky with talking to her. She’s really nice.”

“What she do?”

“She’s a Vet. Owns her own clinic and shelter”

“Nice. Is she local?”

“Not sure. I know her business is in the city. Never asked if she lived there or not.”

“Chris, you might know her already.”

“I doubt it besides I think the not knowing her is the best part.”

“No identity, no expectations.”

“Exactly.”

“Well more power to you. Hope you don’t miss out on an amazing woman wanting to be all mysterious and shit.”

“I’m not concerned.”

A: How has your day been?

C: Hectic. My daughter caught the flu so I’m out of commission for the next few days

A: Aww...poor baby. Is this the first time she’s been sick?

C: No so I’m pretty prepared for the theatrics that will be coming my way

A: She’s that kind of kid, huh? Lol

C: Lol regardless of the fact that she’s three, she gets sick and reverts to an infant but I love babying her. Just don’t tell her that

A: Lol, your secret is safe with me

C: How have you been?

A: Good. Finalizing details for this gala a certain someone got me to attend

C: Lol, you made the deal, I just accepted

A: Yea. Whatever.

C: Did you decide on a date for our virtual outing?

A: I mean you have the child

C: It’s not like I’m gonna be leaving my house though

A: That is true

C: Are you nervous?

A: No, it’s not like you’re gonna hear my voice or see me. What’s there to be nervous about?

C: I don’t know I’m asking you

A: Are you free this weekend?

C: 8 pm Saturday?

A: Works for me

C: Cool

A: You know you could’ve just picked a time and told me

C: Yea but it was your idea so your choice

A: Hmm...I guess

C: What you thinking about?

A: If I should send you a sneak peek of my dress

C: You have it already? I thought the gala wasn’t for another month

A: A month goes by fast especially if you own your own business, time is not of the essence

C: Ah, very true. Are we still doing text to speech or?

A: I have some equipment I can use for voice changes. You?

C: I work at a college, I’m sure I can find some

A: Cool

C: Is your voice that distinctive that I’d be able to figure out who you are from hearing it?

A: Yes.

C: Ah, now I’m curious

A: It’s not that I’m worried about knowing you but I’ve been interviewed and stuff before so hearing my voice would definitely be a dead giveaway and ruin the mystery

C: I understand. 

A: Does any of this make you uncomfortable?

C: No. It keeps things simple and uncomplicated. No complaints from me

A: Cool

                                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robyn quickly composed herself as she posed for the picture in front of her phone. The self-timer clicked and she grabbed the device to see her handy work. She smiled at the successful shot. No identifying marks but it captured her body and clothing perfectly. She sat down and logged into her dating app to send the picture to Chris. Not wanting to be consumed with nervousness, she logged out completely before taking off her clothes and heading to take a shower. Their double blind virtual outing was tonight.

Chris smiled as his phone pinged and he clicked on the new message. The long-sleeve navy blue dress hugged every curve of Anna perfectly. She was completely covered but it still felt just as sexy as if she was naked. That was an art. The message read, “I probably could’ve waited a few weeks to send you this but I figured what the hell. What do you think?”

Chris rubbed his hand along his chin then through his hair as he stared at the picture. Was he making a mistake letting this stay just an online thing? Could she really be as amazing as she seemed? Maybe it was just the lust talking. He had sworn off women the past few years so it wasn’t like he had many outlets for any kind of attraction. Anesa was with his sister and cousins for the night while he had his virtual outing with Anna. He really didn’t understand why she just didn’t call it a date but then again they aren’t supposed to be dating so it makes sense.

Robyn shook off any nervousness as she sat down in front of her computer. It was easier to not be tempted to use the camera if she didn’t have one so she decided to use her desktop instead of her laptop. The older monitor was wired for sound but not video. She had emailed Chris a link to the video chat site with its autoset to start at 8pm. She glanced at the cover of the screen and sighed as the clock flipped from 7:59 to 8:00.

“Hi Anna,” an auto generated voice came through her speakers

“Chris, it’s nice to hear your voice.”

Chris laughed, “well something like my voice. How are you?”

“I’m great. You?”

“I’m good. Thank you for the picture.”

“Eh, I was trying it on and thought why not. You never answered my message”

“Well, I knew I was gonna talk to you soon so I figured it’d be easier to say what I was thinking than writing it”

“Ah, so what do you think?”

“I think you look incredible. It’s hard to be sexy and completely covered from neck to toe but you definitely pulled it off.”

“Why thank you. My friend was a little upset that I picked that dress.”

“Why?”

“She thinks I need to show more skin.”

Chris laughed, “well you’re single, no harm in doing that.”

“Single and not trying to mingle though.”

“If you look as amazing in the face as your body does. Nothing short of staying home would keep people, men especially, from trying to talk to you.”

“Oh don’t say that.”

“Why? It’s the truth.”

“Still don’t say it.”

“You’re afraid of dating?”

“No, just not prepared for it. I don’t really want to like anybody else.”

“Not even me.”

“You are a very pleasant and partially unwanted surprise. I don’t think I could not not like you though.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment”

“Good because I meant it as one,” Robyn laughed, “Feel weird yet?”

“Nope. This is a lot easier than typing though.”

“It is. 

“So how was your day?”

“It was good. I had the start of auditions for my upper level songwriting and music composition classes.”

“Really? How do those work?”

“The student either performs live or brings in a recorded piece that they wrote and/or composed.”

“Do they have to be the performer?”

“It is preferable but no. I get my share of duos from time to time.”

“Is it easier to audition as a duo or solo?”

“To me, neither. I try to be equally as hard on all my students.”

“Did you work in the music industry before?”

“Actually no, just a dream deferred, I guess.”

“What about your divorce made you switch careers?”

“Music has always been healing for me. I had no desire to be famous or anything like that but I wanted to deal with music. Teaching did that for me.”

“Were you healing from your marriage?”

“No. My mother had passed away and it just threw my life into a spiral.”

“Were you close?”

“Not like we should’ve been. I was raised by another family member and my mom wasn’t really around most of my life.”

“That’s sad.”

“It’s life. You learn to make the best of it.”

“It doesn’t sound like you did.”

“To be honest, I didn’t at first. I was mad at everything and everybody. I just gave up.”

“And your marriage was a casualty of that.”

“Yup.”

“And you still love her?”

“I don’t want to but I do.”

“I know that feeling. So you were adopted by the family member or they just took you in?”

“Just took me in, nothing official.”

“Oh ok.”

“You have a good relationship with your family?”

“Yea, I think we still sit on different sides of the fence when it comes to my ex but other than that nothing major.”

“Why?”

“They loved him. He was my high school sweetheart so we kind of grew up together.”

“Same here. Do they want you guys to get back together?”

“Absolutely.”

Chris laughed.

“Sometimes I wonder if there were things he told them that he couldn’t tell me.”

“It’s possible. It's easier to open up to somebody you don’t feel responsible for. Men worry a lot about looking weak in front of their spouses. We wonder if women will still trust our judgment if they think we’re more emotional than logical.”

“Any woman worth her medal knows men are more emotional than logical, y’all just like to play with semantics. Just because you don’t deal with your emotions doesn’t mean they don’t exist or magically go away. Y’all just have different methodologies than we do.”

“Were you a therapist in a past life?”

Robyn laughed, “No, I took basic psychology classes in college.”

“Definitely sounds like you took more than the requisite elective.”

“I did. Almost had enough for a minor but I overloaded on vet classes to try to finish my bachelor’s early.”

“Did you?”

“Just a semester early, nothing too major.”

“That’s awesome. Were you always a vet?”

“Actually no. I took a few years off after veterinary school, did a bunch of odd jobs before I came back to my chosen profession.”

“Ah, good deal.”

“It had its perks.”

“How’d your husband feel about that?”

“We weren’t married initially but he didn’t seem to mind even after we did get married. He had a bit of an old school rearing and liked being a provider, I can admit.”

“And all that time you never had children?”

“I don’t think he could’ve emotionally handled children but then again, we might have fought for our marriage more if there were some involved.”

“You think so?”

“We both grew up in separated families, raised by a single parent or guardian. Two parent households weren’t the norm for either of us.”

“Ah ok.”

“We had always maintained the idea of having children once we got married but then we got married and things just didn’t work out. I wanted to try immediately after the ceremony but he kept stalling. First, it was getting his career off the ground then the timing just wasn’t right and by then we were divorced. I don’t think he wanted children with me.”

“You know being a parent isn’t something to take lightly, from what it sounds like it wasn’t you, he just wasn’t ready. At least, he was self aware to know that.”

“And your wife?”

“After the first year, we barely had sex.”

“Were you not attracted to her anymore?”

“I was. I just didn’t really like myself anymore and it made it hard to be physical with her. We had years of having sex and making love. I wasn’t the same so it didn’t feel the same, I felt like I was shortchanging her.”

“Sounds like you made a lot of decisions for her.”

“I know she would’ve stayed if I didn’t leave but I also knew she wasn’t happy. I couldn’t say I love her and subject her to an unhappy marriage, it’s not fair.”

“Why didn’t you just get help?”

“I did that’s what led me to ask for a divorce.”

“Your help told you to get divorced?”

“Not explicitly. My therapist told me that I needed to take time to focus on myself with no distractions. My mother had died, My father showed back up in my life. It just felt like everything was falling apart and then I had my wife. Trying to be supportive but completely unhappy and walking on eggshells. It felt like I was torturing her and I didn’t want us to live like that. I didn’t want her to live like that. When I tried to explain what was going on, it just made everything worse.”

“What you mean?”

“I broke her. In such a short marriage, I broke her and I didn’t know how to undo what I had done. I also wasn’t in the space to undo it. I just wanted to die and I didn’t want her to see that.”

‘Did you try to-”

“It was a week after she had moved out. Complete nervous breakdown.”

“Chris, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was bound to happen. The mind can only take so much before it has to reset itself.”

“Did you tell her?”

“No. I made my family promise not to say anything to anyone either. I made her leave for that exact reason. Sometimes you can just feel when you’ve reached your breaking point.”

“True. So she had no idea?”

“No. If she had, she probably would’ve came back and never went through with the divorce. I didn't want her spending her life fixing my mess, that’s my job.”

“Wow. I appreciate you telling me this.”

“I’m surprised I did. Had this been a year or two ago, I probably would’ve stopped talking to you as soon as you asked about her.”

“Really?”

“Yea. Failure sucks.”

“Well, it doesn’t sound like you failed. It’s not like all avenues had been exhausted.”

“If your ex-husband had did this, would you be so accommodating?”

“If he had actually told me all this happened with him, absolutely. This is so much different than the silence and moping around that I got.”

“What if it wasn’t?”

“I mean I definitely have to get over feeling so betrayed first. Ten years of a relationship and he couldn’t trust me enough to let me in, that’s a hard pill to swallow.”

“Yea but it happens. I imagine my ex-wife would probably feel that exact same way.”

“I might not know you well enough to say this but I really think you should find her and talk to her. The years may have softened her.”

“I don’t think it would be right. I caused her enough issues, the last thing she’d probably want is to be reminded of me.”

“There you go making decisions for her again. You never know until you find out.”

“I guess.”

“Unless you don’t want to find out.”

“What you mean?”

“I think you’re afraid that you really did break her and she never bounced back. I think finding out that she hasn’t moved on scares you more than anything.”

“I-”

“You love her and I don’t think you will ever stop, so you want her to be happy. You want her to have forgotten about you and got everything she ever wanted in life. But if she hasn’t, you’d have to realize that though you did everything to protect her, you made the biggest mistake making her go especially when she didn’t want to. As a woman who’s been there and still there, you didn’t give her a chance to be what you needed because you were so worried about not being what you thought she wanted, even though you never asked.”

Robyn pulled her covers up under her chin as she laid back staring at her ceiling. Talking to Chris, really got her to thinking about her ex-husband. Did something happen to him to make him shut him down? Did he really walk out to save her like he told her? If so, why didn't he trust her to be there for him? At least this Chris is healed but clearly she has a penchant for damaged men. Is she a damaged woman? Did her ex really break her to the point she could never recover?

Chris sat on the phone with Anesa, half listening to her ramble about her day. He was going to go get her from his sister’s house but after talking with Anna, he needed the night to himself, to regroup. He couldn’t say that she was wrong. He never really thought about if his ex-wife was happy or not since he left. At least not out loud. Like what right did he have to shake up her life again after shaking it up in the first place? That’s why he never asked about her. It wasn’t right to be about her life if he made the initiative to walk out of it. Anna really showed him the other side of the situation, it really wasn’t as pretty and hopeful as he thought it would’ve been. He never thought of his divorce as a mistake but did he really ruin something that could’ve been fixed?

[mikami]

Death Note Audio Drama 03

Disc 3: Beloved Enemy - a summary / partial translation

Prior translations / an explanation as to what the fuck this is.

The title of this disc is so alarming, but it’s actually the first disc out of the ones I have listened to that doesn’t title drop in the text. The plot is still not going off the rails. In this: long conversations about porn, chips vs flips,  some good old L and Light first meeting (devoid of tennis) and..... Light being a nightmare retail customer who needs to speak to the manager.

___

We’re at To-Oh entrance exams. The teacher gives lengthy exam instructions, very teacher-typical. He also explains how big and important To-Oh is, because a German listener will naturally not necessarily be aware of that. The exam starts. The door opens.

TEACHER: You’re late, Mr...

LIGHT: Yagami. Light Yagami. I always get nervous if I have to wait too long.

TEACHER: You should still come earlier as to not bother the others. Please sit.

RYUK: Oh, he doesn’t like you, Light. Your cool attitude apparently--

Light coughs loudly. 

RYUK: Calm now. Nobody here can see or hear me. So here’s where the elite fights to get into University? All those freshly-scrubbed students with their freshly scrubbed brains... Oh, somebody is running even later.

TEACHER: What’s up with you millenials? As if there was nobody else in the world. And where’s your shoes? 

L: Bare feet help me think. 

TEACHER: It’s January. Aren’t you cold?

L: No.

TEACHER: You can sit here, next to the other one who was late. Mr...?

L: Erm, Ryuga. Hideki Ryuga. 

TEACHER: Really? That’s your name?

L: Yeah. 

TEACHER: Like the actor?

L: Yeah.

TEACHER: From TV?

L: Is there anything wrong with that?

TEACHER: Well, good luck, Mr. Ryuga.

RYUK: That’s not his name, Light. That’s not his name. He’s lying. 

LIGHT: I’m trying to focus here.

RYUK: I’ll bet. But I’ve got the eyes of a shinigami. And I know who that guy is. I can tell you, you’ve got a fan. A big fan. He pretends to study the task at hand, but he’s watching you. Like he’s been watching you for weeks. Don’t turn around now, but sitting behind you... is L.

____

TITLE MUSIC ____

Soichiro and L are watching Light. Soichiro insists Light is gonna study, but L points out that Light is about to leave the house. They notice the piece of paper that Light uses to check people coming into his room. Soichiro justifies it as “He’s a teen. And his sister always steals his pens”. 

_____

Ryuk and Light on the street. Light explains to Ryuk that someone was in his room, based on the door handle trick from the manga. They took out the more complicated pencil lead check. Light coerces Ryuk into looking for cameras the same way as in the manga. 

_____

Light returns home. We’re back with the surveillance team.

L: Now let’s see what your son is going to do with the rest of his evening. Camera 3. 

SOICHIRO: The exams are only a week away. He’s going to study until he falls asleep.

L: Weeell, you could put it that way.

SOICHIRO: Good lord. 

L: Is “Skimpy Cousins” on the curriculum this year?

SOICHIRO: My son of all people...

L (amused): It looks like a pile of books for studying... and with a very wide definition, that’s true.... Mandatory material, so to say. Camera 7, zoom in just a little... I’d like to read the titles. “Minxes in Uniforms”...

SOICHIRO: What we’re doing here isn’t right.

L: We’re looking for a killer. He’s looking at dirty booklets.

SOICHIRO: I’m just saying, watching this... is wrong.

L: If we witness it coming to a murder, it’ll be worth it. Though ‘coming’ might be the wrong term here. 

SOICHIRO: You’re enjoying this...

L: Not as much as he is, apparently. Or are we just supposed to think so?

L launches into his whole thing about how Light almost seems to just immediately want to point out what it is that he’s hiding. Soichiro is pissed. “You wanted evidence? There’s your evidence. My son likes to look at naked girls. Not quite a crime.” He’s very insistent that this is prove of Light’s innocence...

____

Ryuk chatters while he looks for cameras. He doesn’t get why human men love ‘the female form’. Women in the shinigami realm don’t even always have skin. Ryuk personally is very very into teeth on demon ladies. 

____

L and Soichiro are still arguing about the surveillance. L asks Soichiro if he’s told his family about the investigation, Soichiro denies and points out ruefully that he hasn’t been home a lot lately. L is like “Well, at least  every passing moment without your son doing voodoo magic or summoning the devil or whatever brings us closer to taking him off our list”.

_____

Ryuk found a lot of cameras and explains that to Light.

_____

A lengthy Sakura TV feature about a resident from an Australian village named ‘good old Tommy Smith’ dying. He left a goodbye message and shot himself. 

_____

STORE CLERK: Can I help you? 

LIGHT: Yes, I’d like to buy a portable TV. A small one.

STORE CLERK: Oh, alright. How small?

LIGHT: Small enough to fit into your pocket.

CLERK: Oh, you want a pocket TV? 

LIGHT: Exactly. The smaller the better.

CLERK: Oh, alright, good... Maybe you’d be better off looking on the ground floor.

LIGHT: Where they sell the cell phones?

CLERK: Yes. Practically every smartphone can stream TV nowadays.

LIGHT (in annoyed sing-song): But I don’t want a smartphone. I want a TV.

CLERK: Yes, okay, fine! Of course. I’m just saying. If you want a screen that fits into your pocket, then usually--

LIGHT: I said it before. I don’t want a cell phone. I also don’t want to use the internet. I don’t want to stream. I don’t want a two-way data transfer. 

CLERK: But--

LIGHT: I want a device that’s constructed to receive and display a TV signal. And I want this device to be small.

CLERK: Alright, I’ll just the manager real quick. 

____

A continuation of the Tommy Smith report. After his death it turned out he was a killer who was now in witness protection. People from the village get interviewed. Tommy Smith was a perfectly fine citizen to them.

____

MANAGER: Hello, sir. I’ve heard you’re looking for a portable TV?

LIGHT: That’s correct.

MANAGER: Did Gina tell you about our offers in regards to smartphones?

LIGHT: I don’t want one. Do you have portable TVs or not? 

MANAGER: You’re actually serious. 

LIGHT: The customer is always right, isn’t that so?

MANAGER: Well, we haven’t sold something like that in years. And even second-hand, you’ll probably be out of luck. An analogue terrestric signal hasn’t been broadcasted in forever. That means that everything that was produced ca. 2002 is only a useless pile of metal today. But wait... we still sell pro monitors! It’s what directors use to see what the camera is filming.

LIGHT: And those can receive TV signal?

MANAGER: Sure. But it really won’t be cheap.

LIGHT (sighs): I’ll pay in cash.

____

Muffled TV noises with cheesy lines.

SACHIKO: Sayu dear, do we really have to watch this during dinner?

SAYU: He’ll say it now! 

LIGHT: Who’s saying what? 

SAYU: He’s been taking his time for ten episodes now! 

SACHIKO: But you can record it and watch it later...

SAYU: Can not! I need to send my tweet right when he says it! Exactly in that moment! 

LIGHT: In what moment?

HIDEKI RYUGA (muffled from TV): I love you. 

Sayu gasping frantically.

SAYU: Yes! Yes! Oooooh my god. Oh my god! He said it! He told her! Hideki Ryuga is such a dream...

SACHIKO: And here I thought the guy was playing for the other team...

SAYU: Why can’t my school have men like you, Hideki? 

SACHIKO: Sayu, now come and eat your dinner.

SAYU: But mom...

____

The dinner conversation plays muffled. A phone rings. L picks up.

L: Matsuda, what’s up?

MATSUDA: Absolutely incredible. Hideki just confessed his feelings to Miko. 

L (through grit teeth): In the Kitamura household...

MATSUDA: They’re all watching channel 4. The whole family is parked on the couch in front of the TV.

Since everyone is watching the same channel, they’re broadcasting their fake message about 1500 agents being on the Kira task force now. Light calls them idiots for announcing this on the media. He also calls out that it’s an exaggeration by the police rather than true news. And he then takes chips and goes up to study.

_____

Ryuk explains some more about the cameras, that there are 64 and they cover every inch of the room. 

_____

SOICHIRO: What is he doing?

L: Studying. XXL party bag of chips, but... he’s studying.

SOICHIRO: This is exactly what we call a negative positive.

L: What do you mean, chief inspector?

SOICHIRO: We get a ton of equipment just to find out my son is doing.. nothing. 

L: We still don’t know how Kira gets his victims into his scope.

SOICHIRO: But we can strongly suspect Kira isn’t doing so by reading books and eating flips.

L: Chips.

SOICHIRO: They are flips.

L: Chips is the genus.

They are interrupted by another task force member (Matsuda?), mad about them wasting time watching Light doing nothing. 

_____

Light and Ryuk go out to the park, so that Ryuk can eat an apple. Light explains that nobody else likes Barbecue taste in this family (they kept the flavor change from the VIZ translation) and thus he can hide the TV in his flips bag. When Ryuk calls it a chips bag, Light actively corrects that it’s flips. Seems to run in the family.

_____

L is woken up because Ukita is calling on the phone about new murders that weren’t reported on while none of the suspects could have seen the news. L is suspicious that the family is cleared right on the first day of surveillance. Soichiro is annoyed.

______

The trash gets taken out and Ryuk points out how expensive the TV was, just like in the manga. Ryuk calls it a chips bag again and Light corrects to ‘flips bag’ again. 

______

A news report about Misa’s stalker dying. Misa herself is on air, recounting the event and claiming that Kira protected her like a guardian angel. 

_____

Paula Virilio calling L. She’s at a poolside because the FBI stint got her suspended. She wants L to rethink his illegal surveillance plans, since he might otherwise end up like her. L tells her the cameras were already removed. L briefly speculates that Kira might actually be God, then immediately gets rid of the thought. It’s the same as the thoughts he has as an internal monologue in the manga. Virilio says that once Light’s innocence is proven, he’ll be a totally normal college student again, and that gives L an idea....

_____

SOMEONE: You want to do what?

L: The entrance exams for college are next week. I’ll participate in them and naturally pass and thus go to college with Light Yagami. Look at him up-close, in person.

Agents laughing.

MATSUDA: L, come on, it’s not that easy. 

SOMEONE: Light does his entrance exams at To-Oh. That’s basically the best in the country.

MATSUDA: The average exam-taker passes at fourth try only. Those kids prepare for years.

L: Yagami seems pretty confident...

SOMEONE: He passed the test exams as the best. He’s the cleverest guy in the whole country. 

L: Out of the known guys. 

More laughter.

MATSUDA: Seriously now. You want to come in there, basically from the streets, and beat Japan’s best?

L: Hmm, yes.

MATSUDA: I’ll tell the others. We’ll open a betting pool. 

L: No, we’re not telling anyone. We’re just doing it. 

MATSUDA: Just... doing it?

L: Yeah, we’ll register and all. I’ll write the tests. 

MATSUDA: Okay, but you’ll have to give them a name.

L: Then let’s give them a name.

MATSUDA: Which name?

L: Just come up with something. Anything.

[ Side note but I have no idea if all of the Matsuda speech here is Matsuda, men’s voices are killing me. ]

____

L approaches Light at college and Light is annoyed, until L introduces himself as L. L is being a huge brat in this scene as well (”Oh come on, Light. You’re cleverer than you let on. Or at least I hoped so.”). Light lets on that he knows Kira needs a name, L points out that they haven’t released that info. Light justifies it by it being obvious because L is using a fake name.

L says Light could help with the investigation and invites Light to coffee. (He’s paying!)

_____

Soichiro and Kitamura are talking. Kitamura is noticing that he’s being watched and confronts Soichiro about it. (”Since Christmas, there’s been a few too many gas leaks in our street... or electric workers... even Jehova’s Witnesses have suddenly risen from their graves. I think if I was a criminal, I’d suspect someone is looking for excuses to snoop through my house. And then I think... No. Because last time I checked my business card, it said goddamn general inspector top honcho of the whole national police department! ”)

____

Light is hiding out in the café bathroom, having his little speech about L challenging him and him taking the challenge of them playing friends. (”Alright, L. You wanna be my buddy? Chill out with me? Let’s do it. Let’s see who breaks first.”) He’s far less angry than he is in the manga in this scene.

____

Ukita and Matsuda are supervising the scene from outside the café and L is bugged, too.

____

L tells Light he suspects him of being Kira. The L and Light dialogues in this episode are largely fairly close to the manga without too many amusing quips or interesting new bits. 

____

Soichiro and Kitamura keep arguing about the necessity of surveillance. Soichiro discloses that his son is a main suspect. 

SOICHIRO: The team is currently out trying to cross my son of the list once and for all.

KITAMURA: How can they do so?

SOICHIRO: Face to face.

KITAMURA: Isn’t that dangerous?

SOICHIRO: Mortally so.

KITAMURA: What exactly are they doing?

SOICHIRO: They’re probably having  coffee together. 

KITAMURA: Hah. Well that’s at least some not totally wasted working hours.

SOICHIRO: If you have a better idea, just come right out with it!

KITAMURA: How about this? Catch me a killer. 

SOICHIRO (tense): I’m sorry it’s not going fast enough for you.

_____

L shows Light the ‘L did you know’ message. Now (unlike at first mention), they point out the coded nature of the messages. L also gives out the faked ‘and they have red hands’ message addition. 

_____

Kitamura is still pissed about the Kira investigation not going anywhere and how it impacts his reputation. Soichiro gets extremely angry that they don’t have enough men and that just getting paid some more doesn’t solve the problem. 

SOICHIRO: Can you even imagine the pressure these men are under? Men with families? With children? I don’t think you can! If this was a flu epidemic, you’d mobilize the army. But sadly it’s just a row of unexplained heart attacks. So I’m left with just half a dozen men. 

KITAMURA: I gave you a cheque book with endless credit, Yagami.

SOICHIRO: Money doesn’t solve the problem, sir. The men think my task force is a suicide mission!

KITAMURA: Maybe that’s what it is, Yagami. But if we admit the full truth, we’ll have a nationwide panic.

SOICHIRO: We’re doing all we can. Everything. We’re following every hint. This criminal is smarter than any we’ve met before. He’s invisible! And kills from a distance! So... yes. I will bug your home, if it brings us even a centimeter closer to the truth. I can’t remember when I last slept. I haven’t shaved in days. And I go home and face my little boy, my firstborn, with all his potential.... his charm... his mother’s eyes... and grades most parents can only dream of... And I have to pretend... I have to... ghhgg. Uughh... [having heart attack noises]

____

Light says he wants his dad to prove L’s identity as L to him before he joins the investigation. Then both of them get the phone call that Soichiro is in the hospital. 

____

In the hospital. Soichiro’s gonna be fine, hurray. It was just stress. L lets Soichiro know that Light is gonna join the team now despite still being a suspect. That’s all the content in this conversation, everything else from the manga is cut. Soichiro asks L to watch over Light and L is like ‘yeah, I won’t take my eyes off him’.

Light immediately calls that out when they’re out of the room. (”Is that supposed to be funny?”). L and Light part ways outside the hospital, promising to find Kira together.

L’s car leaves, Ryuk points out that Light is playing with fire. Light ends the episode with the words “The game has begun.”

[scornedlove]

Chapter Twenty-Five

ROBYN

“Don't even go inside” I muttered to myself as I approached Dre’s front door. The entire ride over, I prayed he would still be at work so I wouldn’t have to get a lecture from him about last night. Of course, with my luck, that wasn’t the case. His car was parked out front, so I knew there was no avoiding the conversation I’d been dreading. 

"Oh well" I sighed, preparing for the judgement I was about to face, and knocked on the door.

“Wow” Dre smirked, with his eyes damn near popping out of his head when he opened the front door. He was fresh out the shower wearing nothing but a robe, which was partially open. Damn I have the worst timing.

“Sorry, I wouldn’t ha-”

“That cut is fire. Reminds me of cat woman.” he interrupted in awe, giving me a once over. 

“Yeah, I needed something different.” I shrugged, running my hand through my pixie cut. 

“It’s definitely different. That shirt looks good on you too” he added, disappearing down the hall, leaving me no choice but to come in. I looked around his living room for my stuff while trying so hard to remember anything from last night, but my mind was still coming up empty.

“I couldn’t find my clothes or phone anywhere this morning” I explained when he reappeared in a t-shirt and sweat pants.  I didn’t mean to glance him over, but I did, and the first thing I noticed was he didn’t have any underwear. I felt my skin flush and immediately drifted towards the door.

“That might be because you didn’t wear any” 

“So, you telling me I came over here ass naked?” I shrieked in disbelief.

“Kinda” he chuckled shaking his head. “You had that trench coat on, so you were at least covered up”

“Ugh. I’m so sorry Dre. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, but I was going through some shit. Don't even ask.” I sighed, focusing my attention on an old picture of him and his mom. I'd seen it hundreds of times, but I couldn’t look him in his face right now. I felt guilty for popping up on him after being MIA for so long, even though that wasn't my intention.

“We don’t have to talk about it, but I am worried about you. How are you feeling?” he asked, motioning for me to sit.

“OK. Please tell me you have some fucking Tylenol” I muttered, taking a seat on his sofa. He retrieved the pills from his bathroom and a bottled water from the fridge, then stood in front of me, refusing to hand them over until we locked eyes.

“How are you feeling?” he repeated, this time more sincere than before. 

“Like shit” I retorted, popping the pills and swishing some water around before swallowing them.  After venting to Ursie and my favorite soup from Panera, my headache was finally gone, but my body was still sore as fuck.

“I bet. Last night was…crazy. I’ve never seen you like that before” he snickered, attempting to lighten the mood.

“People keep telling me that.” I shook my head, as my face began to heat up from embarrassment. “Did I at least have my phone with me?”

“Yeah, someone was blowing you up, so you threw it.” he explained, grabbing a Ziploc bag from his kitchen and bringing it back to me. ”The screen shattered, but it should be fixable.” 

“Thanks, and thanks for not judging me. You know I wasn’t in my right mind last night; I just hope you’re the only person I fucked.”

“Woah, slow down. You know I’m not that type of guy”

“When I woke up naked, I assumed… so we didn’t…have sex?” I stammered, completely confused.

“No. You texted me saying you were on your way. Half an hour later, you were at my door in that.” He nodded towards the coat that laid across the chaise.

“Well thanks for not taking advantage of my stupidity” I sighed, biting my bottom lip to force back a wave of emotions that threatened to escape. Why did he have to be so damn respectful? He was really one of the good guys, which made me feel worse for pushing him out of my life to begin with.

“You good?” he asked, taking a seat next to me. I was trying so hard to hold everything in, that the tension in my face must’ve gave away my true feelings. My voice caught in my throat, so I nodded my head as I sniffed back tears.

“Really Anna? You can’t keep it all inside. Bottling it up won’t do any good.” he urged, squeezing my shoulder. That simple touch was enough to encourage the waterfall to proceed. Tears poured from my eyes, but I refused to release the rest. I didn’t plan on letting him see me like this. Especially when it all stemmed from Chris.

“Let it out. You’re gonna pass out if you don’t release that shit.”

“I feel….out of control” I admitted, grasping his thigh as I struggled to breathe. Although I was already sitting, I felt like I was falling.

“Put your head between your legs” he ordered, before darting out of the room. Seconds later he was back with two more pills. I wasn’t even sure what it was, but he was the doctor and I trusted him, so I tossed them back with another sip of water.  It took a few minutes, but the trembling stopped and the tears eventually followed.

I couldn’t believe I broke down in front of Dre like that. If last night didn’t ruin his perception of me, I’m sure today did. At this point, it didn’t even matter. My mind was racing with all the ways I could get Chris back for hurting me the way he did; from sleeping with Quincy to telling Tae everything that happened between us. If she knew everything he put me through, she’d run in the opposite direction. Either way, I knew had to do something. I didn’t go through hell for him to ride off into the sunset with some random chick. It’s not right and there’s no way I’m letting him get away with it.

AUNDRE

“Do you have time to take me home? If not, it’s cool. John is just a phone call away.” Anna asked, after clearing her throat. We had been sitting in silence for the past ten minutes because neither of us knew what to say after the meltdown she’d just had.

“I can take you”

“You sure? I’m not trying to be a bother”

“You know I got you. You won’t ever be a bother to me.” I reassured her as I helped her gather her things and led the way to my car.

The entire ride she quizzed me about work and family. It was obvious she was trying to keep me talking about my life so she wouldn’t have to comment on hers, but I went along with it. If she didn’t want to talk, I wasn’t interested in probing.

“I hope you can forgive me for intruding like I did last night. You could’ve had a woman over for all I know.” She stated jumping into apology mode the moment we got to her block. To be honest, I was more worried about her than offended. I was sick of the victim role she kept feeding into and wanted her to make better decisions. How do I tell her that without pissing her off though?

“You know me better than that. I don’t have random women in and out of my place.”

“I know, but you get what I’m saying.” she sighed, rolling her eyes. 

“Honestly, this shit scares me. It’s obvious you’re not okay and that doesn’t sit well with me.” I stated, choosing my words carefully. I glanced in her direction, waiting for a response, but she just stared out the window. 

“Why do you even care?” she asked, finally facing me. I couldn’t believe the sadness that was seeping through her beautiful green eyes.

“Are you kidding me? You were the one who kept me sane when Teyana was putting me through the same roller-coaster ride you’re going through with Chris.  I never told you this, but you saved me from committing suicide.”

“What? You tried to kill yourself over Teyana?”

“Do you remember that time, sophomore year, when you and Chris were supposed to go see some movie, but ya’ll got into a big argument?” I quizzed. 

After a moment of thought, she nodded adamantly. “I found a message in his phone from another girl and ended up making him stop the car so I could walk home that night”

“Well, if you hadn’t come back when you did, I would’ve gone through with swallowing a bottle of Tylenol. You know Teyana was my first serious relationship. I really thought I was gonna marry that girl, then I’d found out about her cheating on me. At that time, I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else and hated the thought of her being with anyone else so much, that I would’ve rather died. I’d just finished writing a letter to my mom when you stormed through the front door in tears. It was the first time I saw you cry. Instantly, I felt the need to protect you and I realized I couldn’t do that if I were dead.”

“Wow. That’s crazy Dre. I’m glad you didn’t go through with it. You were my best friend, my only friend at the time, that would’ve crushed my soul.”

“I’m only telling you this because it was a rough time for me, yet I hid it and wouldn’t let anyone in. I want to be here for you, but I don’t know how. Tell me what you need.”

“What were those pills you gave me?” She asked, fumbling with her fingers. “They really helped.”

“Xanax. I only had the 1mgs. I know you usually take the halves, but I’ve never seen you tremble so hard. You need to ask your doctor to increase yours.”

“Honestly, I haven’t seen my doctor in a while. I got tired of doctors, hospitals, and anything remotely related. Besides, I was doing good, so I stopped going.”

“Well there’s your mistake. You’ve been through a lot and as much as you want to be over it, you aren’t. Promise me you’ll make an appointment sooner than later.”

“I…uh. Can you just give me some more?” she pleaded, poking out her bottom lip. I hated when she did that. "I just need a few on hand for situations like earlier, which doesn't happen often. I get why you're worried but don't be. I would never harm myself.

“I don’t want you making it a habit, but I can give you a few. I have some samples at the office. Just stop by whenever you can and I’ll help you out.”

“Thank you so much, I don’t know what I’d do without you. I really owe you one.”

“I can get in trouble for this, so I’m not doing it forever. You need to stop being a pain and get in to see your doctor.. That’s all I’m asking.” I added, and she reluctantly agreed. 

I watched her until she entered her front door and debated on staying awhile. I wanted to make sure she was good, although I knew I’d done all I could. I was about to pull off when a black Porsche pulled up and parked right behind me. 

“This motherfucker” I muttered when the driver and I made eye contact. The music was blasting and the convertible top was down, so there was no mistaking who was inside.

He didn't need to be here. I was sick of this cycle draining her and I wasn't going to sit by and watch anymore. I took a deep breath, pulled my keys from the ignition, and quickly hopped out of my car. The closer I got to his car, the better I could see that smug look on his face, the more I wanted to punch him. I was sick of him and he was gonna feel my wrath today.

ROBYN

“What a night" I groaned, kicking my pumps off the moment I walked in my front door.  I've never drank so much that I couldn't remember the night before, but at the same time, I was glad I did. Too bad it didn’t make me forget the past three years of my life.

"Mama's home" I sang, showing Ollie and Pepe some love when they came running. I realized they were hungry and instantly felt guilty for disappearing on them last night. I quickly filled their bowls, wondering why Rayven hadn’t fed them for me. We haven’t been the closest since she’s been back, but she still looks out for my babies. She loves them just as much as I do. 

I knocked on her bedroom door and after a minute with no response, I let myself in. I was shocked to find a hole in my wall, broken glass on the floor, ripped, bloody clothing on the ground, and Rayven nowhere to be found. I called her and after two rings, was sent to voicemail. My next instinct was to call the police, but I tried her one more time instead.

“What the fuck do you want?!” she screamed in my ear, after the first ring.

“Scuse me?”

“You heard me. I left your house key on the kitchen counter and didn’t take anything that belongs to you. So, what the fuck do you want?”

“What the fuck happened to my room?”

“Are you kidding me?! You did that shit! I apologized for my fuck up a long time ago, and if you knew you didn’t truly forgive me, you could’ve said something then. After what you did last night, don’t call or text me. Matter of fact, don’t even consider me family.” she snapped, before hanging up in my face. I had no idea what she was talking about and was about to call her back, but the dogs barking uncontrollably stole my attention. 

“Hush!” I ordered, when I found them on the couch barking out the window. After they calmed down, I realized what they were losing their shit over and my heart dropped. Chris and Dre were in front of my house yelling at each other, and by the looks on their faces, it was escalating fast.

“All you gotta do is get back in your car and keep it pushing. This ain’t got shit to do with you” Chris exclaimed with clenched fists, getting in Dre’s face.

“If it involves Ana, it involves me” Dre countered, standing his ground. 

“What’s going on?!” I yelled, running towards them as quick as my bare feet would allow.

“Nothing, Chris was just leaving” Dre announced, throwing his arm out to keep me back.

“I’m not going anywhere”

“Chris, what are you doing here?”  I intervened, getting between the two of them.

“We need to talk” He stated, attempting to grab my hand. 

“I have nothing to say to you, leave.” I countered, dodging his reach and crossing my arms.

“Don’t shut me out like this. Can we please ta-”

“You deaf man? She said leave!” Dre snapped, cutting Chris off. I’ve never seen him this mad, and couldn’t believe he was challenging Chris this way. I expected Chris to lose his shit, but he leaned against his car unbothered.

“Dre you can leave too! Ya’ll aren’t about to do this in front of my house”

“I’m not going anywhere until this piece of shit is gone” he exclaimed, pointing at Chris as he pulled out a pack of Newport's and lit one. I could tell he was trying to piss Dre off, and it was pissing me off too.

“Please don’t do this. I'm not some damsel in distress. I’m a big girl, I can handle myself” I begged, rubbing my forehead. I was already stressed out; I didn’t want to deal with anything else right now. I was liable to snap and I prayed he sensed it in my tone. 

“I’ll let you handle it...this time” He sneered, staring Chris down the entire walk to his car. When he pulled off, I exhaled feeling partially relieved.

“I hope you ain’t fucking that punk” Chris spat, pissing me off even more.

“It’s none of your concern who I’m fucking!” I yelled, snatching his cigarette from his mouth. I threw it on the ground and stomped on it to show him I wasn’t playing. “You have some nerve showing up here, after the decision you made yesterday.”

“I didn’t decide on anything” 

“Not being able to decide is equivalent to choosing her. If you loved me, there would be no question to it.”

“That’s not right and you know it”

“Not right?!” I exclaimed, shaking my head. 

“Robyn, you’re asking me to break this woman’s heart, when all she’s ever done was be good to me”

“WHAT ABOUT MY HEART?! ALL I EVER DID WAS BE GOOD TO YOU!” 

“I know and I’m sorry. That’s why I’m trying to fix this, but I need to do it the right way.” he explained, attempting to close the distance between us.

“What part of ‘all or nothing’ don't you understand?" I quizzed, losing my patience. I tried to push him away, but he grabbed my hand as tight as he could.

“Rob, don’t do this to me please. I need us to be okay.” he begged, as I twisted out of his tight grip.

“There is no us! I never want to see you again! Now get the fuck off my property, and if you come back, I’m calling the police!” I stated, leaving him on the street. He called my name over and over and for the first time since I’ve known him, it didn’t affect me one bit. That’s how I knew it was official, I was done with him.

[something-tofightfor]

He’s Not Here: Interlude (History)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Word Count: 4600

Rating: M. Language, and that’s it. 

Author’s Note: I don’t own Billy’s character. I’m just writing this for fun.

This chronologically takes place after chapter 12. It needed to be written, but I didn’t want it to be a chapter of the main story, just inserted to build the relationship more. I may do more of these excerpts down the road, but we’ll see. 

Parts 1-12 can be found on my Masterlist (link in bio)!

Summary:  Billy Russo doesn’t know how to take care of someone else, but he’s going to try. 

** 14 months out from the events of  DD S2 **

Tagging: If you want to be added or removed, let me know.

@banditthewriter @breanime @obscurilicious @padfootagain @madamrogersstorytelling @ooo-barff-ooo @agent-bossypants @suchatinyinfinity @chibiyanai @songtoyou @dylanobrusso @ilkaeliseb@editboutique @marauderskeeper @delicatelilyflower @drinix @likethetailofacomet @king4thesirens @ymariejp @blah-blah-fuckit-shit @ethereal-heavcns @mr-robot-x @rageshots @shinebrightlikeafanbase @zaffrenotes @audreychaz @jovialyouthmusic @yesixoxo@blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @swiftyhowlz @introvertedlibrary @littlemermaidprobz @ladyblablabla @writing-for-achance 

Roughly 16 weeks after Billy’s return home

He hadn’t had a chance to check his messages until after he’d finished with his last client of the day, but Billy was worried because you weren’t answering your phone. He’d texted back, tried calling… even tried FaceTime, knowing that you could never turn down a video call with him. But there had been no response, which surprised him. He didn’t like to admit it, but you were on his mind a lot these days, and lack of contact - especially from you - was concerning. Your series of unanswered texts had started at noon with a simple “Hey you” followed twenty minutes later with “Guess you’re busy. Just wanted to say hi.” A little after 1 pm, you’d sent a third message. “I’m not feeling the greatest, I’m thinking of leaving work early.” He knew how much you hated ducking out of work, and he’d been surprised. Bet she went home and fell asleep. Billy sighed, shaking his head as he pressed his floor’s button in the elevator. I’ll take a quick shower and head over there, make sure she’s OK.

 He unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped inside, ready to flip the light switch but paused almost immediately. Someone’s in here. Shutting the door quietly, Billy moved to the kitchen, opening the smallest drawer and grabbing his gun, holding it loosely at his side as he moved through the apartment, his attention focused. Bedroom. Finger hovering near the trigger, Billy slowly approached his partially open bedroom door, hearing a rattling sound that grew louder as he got closer. What the hell? He stopped a foot outside of the door, peering around the frame and into the room - which was darker than the rest of the house, as the blinds were completely closed. Oh shit. He froze as he realized what he was looking at - the pile of blankets on his side of the bed wasn’t an intruder… it was you. She used her key for the first time.

 Relaxing his grip on the weapon, Billy took a deep breath and frowned as he stepped into the room, placing the gun on top of his dresser. “Hey.” He spoke quietly, not wanting to startle you and although he could only see the shape of you under what looked like every blanket in his house, he smiled. “Making yourself at home?” He heard you groan as he approached the bed, sitting down on the edge and reaching out to put his hand on your shoulder. “You alright?” It took a moment, but you pulled the blankets down enough to peer at him in the semi-darkness, and Billy was shocked at how pale your skin was, how glazed your eyes looked. “Jesus, do you need to go to the hospital?” You shook your head slowly twice, staring at him. She looks awful.

 “‘ I… ‘m sorry, I just wanted… I thought that since your bed would smell like you, I’d feel better, even if you weren’t here. I must have fallen asleep.” She wanted to… I’d make her feel better? Your voice was weak and a little hoarse, and Billy immediately felt worse, but at the same time better. I’ve never… she’s…  “My germs are all over now, I shouldn’t have…” You coughed, squeezing your eyes shut and Billy froze at the sound - it was a wet, thick cough. “I don’t feel good, Billy.” Without hesitation, he reached out, flipping his hand to press the back of it to your forehead. Hot. She’s got a fever. “Felt fine this morning, but…” Another cough. “Chest hurts. Head hurts. I’m hot.” You cleared your throat, blinking a few times before closing your eyes. “But I’m so cold.”

 “You’re always hot.” He grinned, but when the joke didn’t get any response from you, he frowned. “You should go to the hospital, or to a Minute Clinic or somethin’, you don’t look good. I mean, you look sick, not that you don’t look good, because you do, I’m just...” You shook your head, opening your eyes again and looking at him.

 “No.” You drew your knees up to your chest - he watched the blankets move as you curled up into a ball. “I took medicine at work already, I just want to sleep, I…” You coughed again, and Billy stared at you, helplessly. “I was going to get food on my way here, but I was too…” You trailed off. What do I do? Go get food? Make her go to the doctor? I don’t know…

 “I can go get you food, just tell me what you want.” He reached out again, putting his palm against your cheek, thumb moving slowly over the skin beneath your eye as you automatically leaned into his touch. “Whatever you want.”  You didn’t respond, and Billy just stared at you as he listened to your breathing even out, though it still sounded… well, wet, and slightly wheezy. Damn. What the hell do I do?  “I’ll be back, OK? I’ll go get you soup or somethin’, somethin’ warm and…” As he pulled his hand away, your eyes shot open again and his name left your lips weakly.

 “Billy...no. Don’t leave. Please.” You coughed again, moving your arm under the blanket as if trying to push yourself into a sitting position and Billy immediately, responded, leaning back in, his hand moving down to your shoulder to keep you from getting up. For once in my life, someone needs me and is trusting me to take care of them.  

 “Hey, no. Just stay here.” You stopped, still staring up at him as he looked down at you, his eyes locked on yours. Ok, so I order. “I’ll go order something for you, it’ll just take a minute or two, OK?” You sighed but settled back onto the bed, muttering under your breath about how much you hated being sick. He leaned down without a second thought and pressed his lips to your cheek and then to your forehead, the second kiss lingering against your feverish skin. “Then I’ll come back and take care of you, I promise.” You sighed again, the corners of your lips curving upward slightly.

 “Ok, Russo.” You swallowed and he stood, sliding off of the bed. By the time he stepped out of the bedroom, he had his mouth set in a firm line. I’m going to take care of her. He looked around, tapping his foot against the floor, thinking. What first? Billy took a deep breath and reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He bit his lip as he stared at the screen, completely at a loss. No one had ever cared for him while sick - it had all been up to him, and his idea of “recovery” was hoping that each morning when he woke up, he’d miraculously gotten better overnight. That wasn’t going to cut it with you, though - Billy had a chance to truly help, but in order to do so, he needed some help.

 He took a deep breath and thumbed through his contacts before pressing the call button. One ring. Two. Three. When he heard a voice on the other end of the line, Billy finally sighed, sinking down onto the couch, his eyes closing and his free hand moving to the back of his neck. “Hey, Maria… I’m sorry to bother you, but I need your help. What do you… what do you do when someone’s sick?”

---

Ten minutes later, Billy was back in the bedroom, listening to your breathing as you slept. Maria had advised him that it would be a good idea to get you into warmer clothes, and to ensure that you were drinking fluids. “Lisa came home from school yesterday and said she felt crappy, too.  Sounds like the same thing. Might just be a 24 hour bug, could be broncihitis.” Billy had leaned back on the couch, his eyes still closed as Maria spoke, mentally going through what was in his cabinets. “She needs to eat. She needs sleep. She needs… Bill, she needs to not be alone. It helps. Just do what feels right.”

 After hanging up with Maria and placing a call into his favorite deli for soup and sandwiches, Billy had made his way into the bathroom, gathering up the medication that he had on hand - non-drowsy Robitussin, some cough drops, Advil Cold and Sinus - along with a bottle of cold water. He looked at himself in the mirror, hands gripping the edge of the sink. She needs me. Someone needs me. Blinking in the harsh light from the over-vanity fixture, Billy sighed. Maria’s words had comforted him, but he knew it was likely going to be a long night. He’d shot a text to his boss, explaining that his girlfriend was sick, a smile on his lips even as he typed the word, and said that he likely wouldn’t be in the following day.

 Billy moved quietly in the dark, reaching into his drawers and pulling out two pairs of sweatpants and a hoodie before he stripped his clothes off, stretching. “Not fair.” He turned to the side, one eyebrow raised at the you-sized lump in his bed. “I feel like shit and you’re nearly naked in front of me.” There she is. You coughed again and Billy bent down, tugging one of the pairs of pants up over his legs, settling them low on his waist before he walked to the bed, the rest of his clothes in hand.

 “We’re gonna get you changed.” He nodded, watching as you pulled the blankets down, revealing that you were still in your work clothes. “That’s what I thought.” He smiled at you, reaching out to touch your face again and you smiled weakly back. “I ordered us some dinner, too. But… it’s going to be a while, they’re down a delivery guy, and they said close to two hours.” You nodded, still staring up at him. “Can you stand?” With a deep sigh, you nodded again, and he reached out, pulling the heavy pile of blankets down more. “Hold on.” Billy stood, holding his arms out to you and you placed your hands in his, allowing him to pull you to your feet. She’s burning up.

 He made quick work of your clothes, waiting until you’d braced your hands on his shoulders as he bent down to pull the pants up your legs, thumbs gently running up the sides of your thighs, his lips pressing to your abdomen briefly before he stood. “Hmm, Billy.” Your voice was quiet but pleased, and as he was much closer to you, he heard the congestion in your chest with each breath you took. You took the hoodie from him, slowly putting it on, but allowed him to tug the hem of it down, completely covering you again. As if the entire interaction had drained you, you sat back down on the edge of the bed, looking up at him with the saddest eyes in the world - at least in his mind. “I hate being sick, Billy.” Swallowing, you shook your head. “I felt fine this morning.” He sat next to you, reaching out for the medication that was on his nightstand.

 “Well. I called Maria, and asked what I could give you.” He picked up the water, twisting the cap off and handed it to you. “Drink.” You took a long sip, and he watched as you swallowed it. “She said you could double up on the Robitussin and the Advil. She and Frank do it all the time.” You laughed - weakly, which caused another coughing fit, and Billy wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you toward him. “You’ll be OK.” You sighed. “Medicine first, and then I’ll cover you back up -”

 “Will you stay with me?” He nodded without thinking, leaning over to press his lips to the top of your head.

 “Of course. I’m not… I’m not the best at taking care of people,  but I’ll stay. Anythin’ you want.” He poured you a capful of the Robitussin and handed it to you, using the spare moments to shake out a dose of Advil into his palm, which you took from him, too. The medicine taken, you took another long drink of water before handing him the bottle. “OK, back under the blanket.” You nodded gratefully as Billy stood, waiting until you’d stretched out to pull the blankets back up around you - but not all of them because you were about to have something warm that you hadn’t previously: his body next to yours.

 Billy slid into bed next to you, slipping under the blanket and putting his arms around you as he propped himself up on the pillows. You moved closer to him, and he felt your hot cheek against his chest and heard you sigh as an arm went around him. It felt different to him, different and much more personal than any other interaction with a woman had before. Not only were you in his bed, wearing his clothes, but you were with him, dependant on him, waiting and hoping that he could make things better for you. Both of you were silent for long minutes and he listened to your breathing as it changed - your upper body was elevated slightly, and it sounded as if you were breathing easier. Good. “I…” You swallowed, and he felt your fingers moving across his chest, stroking absently against his skin. “Tell me something about you, Billy. I just… I wanna hear your voice.” She’s not usually like this, she must be really out of it. He thought for a few moments and then cleared his throat.

 “So I’m not good at… this.” He paused. “I’ve never had a … girlfriend to take care of, and no one really… when I was younger, it was just me, you know? No one was there to hold my hand in the group home, and the few homes I was placed in weren’t much better.” You sighed, but didn’t speak, scooting closer to Billy and hooking one of your legs over his so that there was no space left between you at all. He tightened his hold on you. “I never thought I’d… You bein’ here, askin’ me to do this for you, it’s really… you trust me.” Humming in agreement, he felt you nod against his chest. “I like that. I like that you trust me.” His eyes scanned the room, locking on the gun that was still on top of his dresser. Despite everything, even the things I did over there.

 “I didn’t know it was you in here, when I first got home.” He scoffed. “But when I saw that it was, it made me happy. You didn’t feel good, and you came to me to make it better. I never had that. I never had anyone to go to before. Maybe Frankie and Maria, but…” He trailed off, realizing that your breathing had evened out, your shivering less pronounced. “But never like this. You can come to me whenever you need, and I’ll be there for you. I’m here.” He swallowed, feeling a lump rising in his throat. She’s sleeping, keep talking. “I know what you did for me when I was drunk. I know that you took care of me and listened to me tell you about Megan and my first…” He sniffed, remembering the dark haired girl’s disdain for him as he disappointed her, the speed at which she’d told the story to the other teens in the home. “And you didn’t laugh. You… tried to make me feel better.” Billy closed his eyes, feeling tears begin to well in them. Crying, Russo? She’s good to you and it makes you want to cry? “There was nothin’ in it for you at that point, you didn’t even... We hadn’t even kissed more than that first night, and you already knew. You already knew what you thought ‘bout me. I shoulda known then, you know?”

 He looked down as you cleared your throat, but your eyes were closed. “That wasn’t even the first time you did somethin’ nice for me. You came when I asked you to with Kate, and we hadn’t seen each other in almost a month. We barely knew each other, and I... “ He took a deep breath. “I called you because I… liked you, and I wanted to see you again, but knew if I invited you out, you’d say no.” He stopped, looking down. “I thought you’d say no. But now I think I was wrong.” Was I? Would you have actually gone out with me back then? You tried so hard to just be my friend. “I wanted you.” He licked his lips, using his palm to rub your arm through the material of his hoodie. “And you were just out of reach, so I broke a rule, even back then. I… was your friend. And it… it was… worth it.” You sighed and Billy did, too. “We got here, to this point, and you keep… you keep proving over and over that I am worth something.”

 “Y’are, Billy…” You were whispering, and Billy froze, realizing that though he’d thought you were sleeping, you had in fact been awake for at least some of the conversation. “Worth every minute.” You turned your head, kissing his chest just below his collarbone. “I keep telling you…” You trailed off, and he felt himself growing warmer, trying to take in your words. He knew you cared, and he’d told you that he cared about you, too, but this was different. You had no reason to conceal your emotions - and he didn’t even know if you were able to. She means it. He shook his head, removing one arm from you and bringing his hand back up to run through his hair.

 “And even with Anvil, you’ve been… I donno, so supportive and so willing to just help me, to be there for me, to…” He licked his lips, lowering his face to your hair and inhaling. “I want Anvil. I want it bad. And you keep reminding me, keep pushin’ me forward. You…  I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve someone like you in my life, and yet here you are.” He closed his eyes and went silent. After the bank had turned him down, you’d been just as supportive as ever, trying to help him figure out ways to raise the money, to change the perception of the bank, to come up with ways to reach out to the community and gain support. “You believe in me. You.. always have.”

 “Someone has to.” You took a deep breath, tightening your hold on Billy, clearing your throat before you spoke. “You’re not alone, Billy Russo. You might think you are, but…” You laughed again, the sound still weak but he heard you in it. “As soon as you caught my eye at that dinner, Billy, you had me.” No I didn’t. I didn’t have you until I proved that I wanted something different from you. They were both silent for a few minutes, your breathing the only thing he could hear in the room. “You’re good at this.” He looked down, noticing that you’d opened your eyes and were staring at him. Though there was very little light coming in from the living room, he could see enough.

 “At what?” You raised an eyebrow. “At taking care of you?” A small nod, and he just shook his head, wrinkling his nose. “Nah. I’m just… tryin’ to think about what I’d want someone to do for me.” Talking about your failures? Real nice, Bill. He could almost hear Frank’s voice in his head, and Billy smiled at the thought, a radiant smile that he knew would melt you - and it seemed to work, because he felt you inhale sharply, eyes never leaving his. “Warm and fuzzy isn’t my style, it’s kinda hard to -”

 “Tell me some...something about your mom.” Billy froze. What? “I know you were really young, Billy, when she… when you went into the system.” He nodded, his heart still beating rapidly. “But you have to remember, there has to be something that you held on to.” You coughed, finally tearing your eyes away from his for a moment as you brought your hand up to cover your mouth. “Just something, Billy. Even something small.”

 “Why?” He pressed his lips together. “Why d’you wanna know?” I don’t want to talk about my mother, I don’t… not with you, not … she doesn’t get to taint this. “I don’t -”

 “There has to be something good, Billy.” You cleared your throat. “One good thing, one… memory that got you through the foster homes and the bullshit.” I… He was silent, eyes again focused across the room as he thought. It’s not really… we’ve been together for four months, but she’s been my friend for… there’s not…. Goddammit. “Forget it, Billy. I’m sorry.” You took another deep breath, the wheezing louder and Billy tightened his arms around you again. Without prompting, a memory popped into his head and he felt his chest get tight. Fuck me, I haven’t thought about this… Billy took a deep breath and swallowed, moving one of his hands up to press the fingers of his hand against the back of your neck, thumb tucked behind your ear.

 “So.” He licked his lips and took a deep breath, sweeping his thumb slowly back and forth as he leaned down, cheek pressed against the side of your head, lips close to your ear. “So when I was real little…” Are you doing this? “I had Chicken Pox when I was six or seven.” Your hold on him tightened, and Billy continued. “Carla… my mo...mother was already hooked on whatever by then, but she had moments, and that was one of ‘em. I didn’t have any spots above my shoulders, so...” His chest tightened, and Billy’s thumb stopped moving for a moment, then started again, accompanied with his fingers lightly dragging back and forth over the skin of the back of your neck.

 You hummed quietly, tilting your head slightly and he smiled at the movement. “She used to… she used to pull me onto her lap, and run her fingers over the back of my head and neck like this, just… holdin’ me and whispering into my ear, tellin’ me that I’d feel better soon.” He felt the tears leaking from his eyes but did nothing to stop them, not wanting to break the contact with you or stop the story. It feels good to tell her this, to talk about Carla. He turned his head a little more, his lips hovering over your ear. “Just like this. She’d say ‘I’m right here, William. I’m right here and you’re going to feel better soon.”

 He lowered his lips to the side of your head, fingers still moving. Though he wanted to keep talking, he allowed himself a few moments to think of his mother without anger or bitterness - just remembering her, remembering the smell of her Estee Lauder perfume - roses and jasmine and sandalwood - remembering her voice and the way that her eyes had sparkled as she watched Billy play in their small front yard, all knobby knees and scraped elbows, remembered the way that she’d hold him and comfort him before the drugs had taken over her life and she’d left him alone with the memory of a mother that he tried to forget. 

Forgetting’s easier. Rememberng is hard.  He exhaled, squeezing his eyes shut and remembered the feeling of being left alone, of feeling worthless and useless and sick to his stomach, feeling pain and sickness and fear. Sure, there were good memories, memories that stuck with him throughout his life and influenced his subconscious actions and behaviors, but there were bad ones, too - and those often won out in his mind, dictating the way that he lived his life. But I have a choice now, even though I didn’t then. And I choose her. This. Us.

 “I’m right here.” He was whispering and his own voice was unsteady, but Billy continued, along with continuing to move his fingers against your overheated skin, over and over and over. “I’m right here and you’re going to feel better soon.”

---

[minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong]

Sweet Dreams Chapter Seven

Lucid dreaming: The process of being aware that one is dreaming. Some researchers believe that in lucid dreaming, the individual may be able to change the outcome of the dream or control their degree of participation in the imaginary (dream) environment.

Description: Lee Eunbyul has been plagued with hellish nightmares since she was a child. Not the sort of nightmares you may be familiar with. There are no monsters to evade, no serial killers to outrun, no auditoriums of classmates in front of whom to stand naked. Instead there is just…darkness. Endless darkness. With professional help, the dreams come less frequently. But after moving away from home to live with her sister, Eunbyul’s nightmare returns, only this time it’s different. This time…she’s not alone.

What would you do if you had the chance to change the outcome of not only your dreams, but your life?

Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn

Pairing: Namjoon x (f) OC

Word Count: 8.1k

Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Producer!Namjoon, Bookstore Clerk!Seokjin, Potter!Jimin, Producer!Yoongi, Dancer!Hoseok

Warnings: Frequent mentions of mental illness, infrequent swearing and mentions of alcohol

A/N: Hello! I hope you’re all doing well and enjoying this story so far! I think we are getting kind of close to the end! Please don’t be shy and send feedback, critique, questions, theories, and comments my way. I’ll be sure to respond to all asks I receive within a day of receiving them!

And again, if you want to follow my Twitter, my username is @/plzpunchmebts. I’m super active over there and hopefully in the future I’ll do some livestreams/chats with you all!

- Mercury

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Masterlist

Weekly updates: Sunday, 1PM (PST)

Eunbyul

“What are you doing?” asked Gaeul as I sat at the table, absently working my lower lip between my index finger and thumb.

I startled a little and dropped my hand with a thump beside my untouched bowl of cereal. I turned to her with wide eyes. “Hm?”

“You’re spacing out,” she remarked with raised brows. “More than normal.”

I glanced down at the bloated bits of cereal, swelling with milk, floating there as they slowly disintegrated. “Mm…,” I mumbled, picking up the spoon and swirling them around. “I dunno.” Again, without meaning to, my fingertips raised to brush against my lip and I furrowed my brow, cocked my head to the side, and exhaled slowly. “Feels weird.”

“What feels weird?” asked Gaeul, legs crossed on her dining chair beside me, her phone screen going dim as she neglected to touch it. She watched me with mascara smudging around her eyes from the day before, one brow raised in inquiry.

I sighed and pushed the bowl of cereal away. “Nothing,” I said with a shake of my head. I stood up and pulled my hair back to the nape of my neck, restraining it with the old rubber band I’d stolen from the newspaper on the front mat. “I gotta go to work.”

She groaned, tossing her head back. “I feel like you work more than I do these days,” she grumbled.

I chuckled and pulled an old white baseball cap on my head. “Better put in more hours, Miss Corporate Ladder,” I teased with a smile.

She stuck out her tongue and pushed off her chair, meandering toward the mural which was slowly, gradually, growing in detail. “If you’re free later, let’s watch a movie.”

“Are you always this nice?” I asked as I slid my shoes onto my feet with a laugh.

She smirked over her shoulder at me. “Only on my days off.”

I laughed and nodded. “If I get home in time,” I said.

She waved a hand, nonchalant, and returned to stewing over her mural. “See ya.”

“Yeah.”

I stared at the junction between the kiln and its lid, slack-jawed, mind blank, as fresh noontime sunlight filtered in through the workshop curtains. I really couldn’t place it, but something felt like it had shifted. Some imperceptible piece of me, set at a new angle. Like a locked door left just slightly ajar. I felt my fingers on my lips before I realized I was again touching them. I jumped a little and dropped my hand, but in the process nearly knocked a platter of fresh porcelain teacups off the table beside my arm. I fell to my knees as I slid to catch the lip of the metal platter.

“Jesus,” I breathed out, sliding the platter so it lay further from the edge of the table. I stood up and wiped the clay dust from my knees, patting my skin. If I didn’t get myself together soon, I’d end up making a real mistake.

I turned to see Jimin removing another batch from the kiln beside me, and from the smile on his face I knew he’d seen the whole thing. Even though he didn’t look at me, that cheeky smile told me all I needed to know. I sighed, rubbing my forehead, and nodded.

“Go ahead and say what you’re thinking,” I said gently, resting a hip against the kiln.

He chuckled, eyes nearly disappearing, and shrugged. “I’m not thinking anything.”

“Just say it.”

He smiled as he met my eyes, still bent over the kiln. “Just thinking you seem like you’ve got a lot on your mind today.”

I stiffened, crossing my arms, before relenting with a sigh. “I feel…kind of complicated.”

“Mm…,” he remarked gently, shutting the kiln once he’d retrieved the last piece from inside. “Wonder why.”

“Me too.” I stretched a little and groaned. “I’m gonna go vacuum the carpets.”

“Careful,” he began with a barely contained laugh, “might end up getting sucked in.”

I rolled my eyes and, as I passed, gave the back of his head a flick. He winced and I chuckled. “I’ll suck you in.”

He laughed as I stepped into the shop. “That sounded dirty!”

“Only because your mind is dirty!”

Again, his laugh ushered me out and I got to work quickly with the vacuum.

The front door bell pinged and, as I was on my hands and knees scrubbing a decade-old clay stain on the wall beside the potter’s wheel, I scrambled on all fours toward the aisle to greet the customer. But Jimin, having only just begun patting the clay into position, laughed at me efforts and patted my back with one dirty hand before jogging out from around my shoulder.

“I’ll take care of it. Just…I dunno, watch the clay or something,” he said through laughter. He rushed to the sink to wash his hands before jogging out to meet the patron.

I sighed and slid my cleaning supplies away and stood, taking a moment to peek around the corner at Jimin and the customer. Jimin stood facing me beside the register, and the customer stood with his back to me. Broad shoulders, honey-blonde hair, dressed simply and stylishly in a white tee and jeans, he stood with one muscled arm extended, resting on the register counter. I couldn’t see his face, but he was familiar nonetheless somehow. I couldn’t quite place him.

I lingered there for a moment, but returned to reality once I realized I was again touching my lip. And with a flutter in my stomach, I realized I was staring right at him. Flushed, I turned around and forced myself to sit at the wheel, watching the clay. It was nothing more than a blob, just an asymmetrical lump of hard material, too stiff, not even workable yet. I poked it with my index finger and found, as I expected, an unyielding mound of potential that I couldn’t quite tap into.

Well, I reasoned, softening the clay isn’t too hard. Shouldn’t matter if I do it for him. And I was right, partially anyway. So, slowly, I began pounding the clay with my palms, working it almost like bread dough. For a while, it felt hopeless. And as the dull hum of conversation drifted on between that customer and Jimin, I found my focus becoming acutely trained on that lump of clay beneath my warm fingertips, slowly softening as I molded it. Tentatively, I pressed a foot on the pedal, just enough for the wheel to lurch to a slow spin. Quietly, I smoothed my hands along the sides of the clay, guiding it up into a lopsided circle.

Perhaps because I’d been keenly observing Jimin’s technique for a while, or perhaps because I’d managed to find a way to turn my brain off, but the process felt natural, comfortable. I dipped my hands into the slip Jimin had prepared and again ran my hands over the smooth ball of clay. Maybe, if I just pressed my thumbs a little, I could create an indent in the center. Like a bowl. Without my brain telling my hands, they did just that and my thumbs dug into the clay, pushing and smoothing it as I coaxed the material into a shape I liked. It was rough and not quite symmetrical, but it felt…nice.

There’s beauty in something even if it isn’t perfect. Hadn’t Jimin said exactly that? I stared at the slightly misshapen, off-kilter almost-bowl and couldn’t help but smile, just a little bit. I pressed my thumb again, this time pinching the clay with my index finger on the other side, pulling it out to create the lip of the bowl.

“Looks good,” said a voice from behind me.

I shouted and jumped, my foot slipping off the pedal and my palms colliding with the clay, flattening my bowl. I stared down at the mess with a gape before turning to see Jimin leaning against the rack of pottery with crossed arms and a smile. I coughed a little and stood up, hiding my dirty hands behind my back like a kid who’d just been caught tracking mud in the house.

He smiled and shook his head. “You could’ve kept going.”

I cleared my throat and shook my head. “I was just bored,” I said.

He chuckled. “Are you sure about that?”

“Where’s the customer?” I asked before he’d even finished the last syllable, too eager to redirect the conversation.

He blinked a few times. “Oh, uh, he’s browsing. I’m gonna work on a commission for him, so he was stopping by to tell me what he wanted made.”

I nodded. “Alright then. I’ll go see if he needs help-,” I said, walking quickly past him.

But Jimin grabbed the crook of my elbow with wide eyes. “Wait a second,” he said, brows knit. “I think you should really keep working on that bowl, Eunbyul.”

I gently guided his hand off my arm and smiled at him. “I’m gonna go wash my hands off now,” I said, taking a glance back over my shoulder at the ruined bowl.

As my gaze swept back toward Jimin, I caught the outline of someone’s body on the other side of the shelves, peering through the spaces between ceramics. I stiffened, ready to point out the observer to Jimin, but they quickly moved out of my view, walking out from the aisle and into the larger shop space.

“I’m gonna go help him,” I said, maneuvering around Jimin with my arms raised like a surgeon prepped for an operation, two arms raised, palms facing my body. But once I emerged beside the register, the man’s strong back was retreating toward the front door. “Wait!” I called, mimicking Jimin’s frantic tone from before. I cleared my throat and managed my voice a little. “Did you need help with anything?”

The man waved his hand over his shoulder and shook his head, blonde hair catching the sunlight as it bounced. “I’m good, thanks,” he said before ducking out the front door and onto the sidewalk.

And I stood there, stupefied, for a long moment. Just staring at the space left behind in his absence, the empty space in front of the doorway where he was. His voice, the words, replayed over and over in my messy mind and I couldn’t force them out. Instead, I could only stand exactly still, hands dripping slip down my bare forearms, mouth open like I might shout something else, stunned into stillness.

Until I tasted something chalky on my tongue and spat a little, realizing too late that I’d lifted my dirty index finger to touch my lips once again…

I stared at my reflection for a long moment in the bathroom of Hyejin’s Books. Behind me, greenery clung to the wall from a hanging basket, alive and vibrant. But me…somehow I looked sallow, ill. It had to have been from lack of proper sleep, but surely my own mood was contributing. My eyes were heavy, my skin looked almost papery, dull. And as much as I hated to admit it, Mom was right when she said I was looking thinner. I knew it was my fault for eating less, but my brain felt like it was everywhere at once these days. I found it difficult to force myself to eat with my head so messy. But as I pulled at one of my under-eye bags with my index fingertip, I couldn’t help but groan a little and turn away. It was a bit hard to look at.

As I took a much needed step backwards, I caught sight of a pair of stylish black boots beneath one of the toilet stall dividers, like someone was sitting there holding their knees. And I remembered. That person in the last stall, sitting here alone some days.

Crying some days.

Today, they weren’t crying. Just…sitting there. And I wasn’t so sure what was worse. I wavered there for a long moment, brows knit, biting my lower lip and swaying from foot to foot as I lingered in indecision. Of course, bothering the stranger would be weird. It would be odd.

But…the fact that they were here again, in my path again…

Didn’t that mean I had another chance…?

I sighed, glancing at the door, before taking another look over my shoulder down the bathroom at the stall door. As I did, I caught another glimpse of my reflection. Haggard, tired, worn out, but…in my eyes I saw something new.

Worried.

I inhaled sharply and took the few paces needed to reach the last stall. I stopped in front of it and, with bated breath, gave the door three sharp knocks. To my surprise, the response was nearly instantaneous. “Occupied,” said a stern voice from inside.

Shit, shit, shit, I thought, gnawing on the inside of my cheek. Of course they didn’t wanna be bothered! Jesus Christ…

“You still there?” asked the voice, gentler this time.

I swallowed hard, blushing, and stared at the stall door like I was looking at the voice’s owner. “Um…just…checking if you needed, uh…toilet…paper…,” I said, and the excuse was lame even to my ears.

“Uh…,” responded the voice. “N-No, I’m good.”

Sweating, I nodded and turned on my heel toward the exit, ready to run all the way back home. But before I could push my way back out into the bookstore, I heard some shuffling, like the person was adjusting their position, and along with it, one simple phrase.

“Thank you,” the voice said, and suddenly it sounded like a child. Breathy, quiet, uncertain. Much like mine…

“Uh…yeah. Of course,” I said, clearing my throat as I stood awkwardly in front of the exit. “If…um…if you happen to need…toilet paper…you know, later on down the line…my name is Eunbyul and I’m here almost every day.” I stared at the bathroom door, heart hammering, awaiting their response.

And, quietly, one came in the form of a laugh. “Okay,” they said. “I’ll remember.”

I nodded and rushed out into the bookstore without another word.

As I rounded the corner from the bathroom hall, I caught sight of Seokjin behind the counter and wished I hadn’t. With flaming red cheeks and a hyper-awareness of my own social ineptitude, meeting with him was just about the last thing I was ready for. But when I glanced his way, I found him already watching me with a half-smile, resting his cheek in his hand as he chuckled a few times, one brow raised. Today his hair was styled out of his face, and he wore a tee that looked expensive. He looked a bit like a rich grad student or perhaps the son of some hotel chain.

He had the confidence for both.

“Eunbyul!” he called as I averted my gaze and attempted to slip past him.

I cursed under my breath and swiveled around to face him. I managed a tense smile and bowed my head in greeting. “Hey,” I said.

He smiled and beckoned me toward the register and, unable to find a reason to say no, I complied. Once I approached, he scrutinized me further, squinting his eyes as he looked at me from head to toe in the light of the unforgiving sunset.

“You look beat,” he said with a sigh. “Do you sleep enough?”

I blinked a few times, struggling for a response, but eventually settled for a grunt and a shake of my head. “No,” I said at last.

He hummed and clicked his tongue, leaning back to cross his arms. “Better work on that,” he said, then sighed. “I’m off in, like, thirty minutes. Wanna go get something to eat? My treat.”

I stiffened and waved my hands. “Ah, no, no. That’s fine,” I said, shaking my head.

He rolled his eyes and reached out to flick my forehead. “I already decided anyway. Just wait for me, alright? Thirty minutes.”

I stared at him for a long time, brow furrowing. I couldn’t quite figure it out, but something was different today. Normally, an innocuous touch from Kim Seokjin would have sent my mind spinning like a top, but today…

Nothing, really.

I chomped down on my lower lip, puzzled, and nodded once. “Alright,” I said, and was surprised by how easily I relented.

But it would have been a lie to say I wasn’t curious. Not only about Seokjin, but about why today of all days talking with him didn’t give me butterflies…

I watched as Seokjin tended to the meat, smoke hanging low in the air of the barbecue joint. It was a short building near the beach with a decidedly adult crowd. All around were men in business suits and loosened ties, older women gossiping, clumps of people gathered here and there for two separate company dinners.

And then, in the front corner by one of the only windows, two twenty-somethings with two plates of meat and three bottles of soju.

My shot sat untouched beside my chopsticks, but Jin had helped himself as soon as we’d entered. I wasn’t counting, but he had to have been on his third by now as he struggled with the metal tongs and the hot stove. He grumbled all the while as he managed the flame, turned the pieces of pork, added bits of kimchi, and his brow was low, jaw set. Like it was a big labor.

I’d offered to do it myself multiple times, but he’d silenced me with a look every time.

Perhaps he liked controlling things like that.

“You must be hungry,” said Jin as he finally tore his attention from the grill to look at me with a flushed smile.

I raised my brows. “Hm?”

He raised the tongs to point to his lips and only then did I realize that, once again, I was touching my own. I quickly dropped my hand and offered a halfway smile. “Ah, yeah,” I said, grabbing my chopsticks. “Haven’t eaten much today.”

“With Kim Seokjin, you’ll eat like a king!” he said, following the statement with a loud, lilting laugh.

I couldn’t help but smile for real, just a little. I played with my chopsticks for a moment, making them walk across the table. “I can pay my share…”

“So you’ve said,” he began, eyeing me over the meat. “Three times.”

I chuckled. “Sorry,” I said.

He hummed. “If you’re sorry, take a shot with me!” he said, then paused. “Ah, once you’ve eaten something, of course.” He quickly began grabbing pieces of pork and placing them on my small plate, stacked one on top of the other. “Here.”

I bowed my head before taking the first bite. I had to admit, it was cooked nicely. Having grown up in an industrious family, I was used to first-rate barbecue from my dad, but Jin’s skills nearly matched. My eyes went wide.

“Good?” he asked, and there was a hopeful glimmer in his eyes.

I nodded and held out a thumbs-up. “Mhm!” I said, taking another bite. “Really good.”

He sighed and nodded. “As expected,” he said, taking a bite of his own. “You know, in high school whenever my friends and I would go out they’d always pay for my share so that I’d cook the meat.”

I raised my brows, another bite between my teeth. “Hm?” I asked. “Are you sure they weren’t using you?” As the joke left my lips, I regretted it. Who was I to be acting so familiar?

To my surprise, however, Seokjin simply laughed and nodded his head. It seemed he was more lighthearted than I thought. He waved his chopsticks, taking a sip of water. “Ah, is that so?” he asked through laughter.

We locked eyes across the small table and, for a few seconds, I waited in suspense for the moment my heart would race, the moment my palms would get sweaty, the moment my stomach would drop. But, as the eye contact continued, I was left with…nothing.

I cleared my throat and grabbed for my shot, holding it out across the grill towards Seokjin. “I’m ready for my shot now,” I said.

He smiled and clinked the rim of his glass against mine. “Cheers,” he said gently, tipping the shot back.

I followed suit, pressing the cool glass against my warm lips, letting the soju slide down my throat in one fell swoop. I winced a little as I returned to sitting straight and, with squinted eyes, met Seokjin’s gaze. He was already laughing at me.

“Don’t drink often?” he asked.

I hissed just slightly as I exhaled. “Ah,” I began. “You can tell?”

He laughed. “Just a little.” He met my eyes with a smirk. “So…your boss? The pottery guy?”

I raised my brows, already pouring both of us another shot. “Jimin? What about him?”

“Has he…you know, taught you anything cool? About pottery?” asked Seokjin as he took a sip of his shot.

I took a sip as well and hummed. “Yeah. A lot, actually,” I said, then waved my hand. “It’s probably boring though.”

“Mm…,” he continued, tapping a finger against the wooden table, eyes down. “Well, I always see you reading about…like, mysteries and stuff, right?”

I blinked a few times, the alcohol warming my skin, and met his eyes. “Jin, are you making small talk?” I asked.

He stiffened, eyes round. “Uh, well…I was just…,” he began, then stopped and gave a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, it’s just…with the meat cooked and the cheers done…I guess…”

And suddenly I felt the nervous part of me settle back into place. I exhaled in a sigh and smiled. “No social lubricant,” I said with a nod. “I get that.”

He met my eyes with raised brows. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” I said, taking another bite of meat. “Like, at the bookstore it’s easy to find things to talk about, right? Since it’s work. No need to manufacture conversation topics.”

“Right!”

“But…one on one in a new place…it’s harder, isn’t it?” I asked, smiling.

He nodded, snapping his fingers. “Exactly.”

I chuckled. “I didn’t know you felt that way too.”

“Ah, well…,” he started, laughing a little. “Contrary to how I seem, I’d consider myself quite the introvert.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he said, then sighed, resting his cheek in one hand and popping a piece of pork in his mouth with the other. “Probably one of the reasons I wanted to reach out to you in the first place.”

I nodded, sipping my soju. “Hm…”

“Sorry, was that offensive?” he asked. “I’m not trying to imply that you, like…need someone to reach out to you.”

I smiled. Where I would have fumbled with my words and taken to going silent, it seemed Seokjin tended to talk more. Much like Jimin. “I get it,” I said. “I don’t really know how to interact with people,” I said, but as the words came out the felt like deja vu. “Or maybe…I can interact if there’s no pressure. If I don’t feel like I’m…,” I continued, but still the words perplexed me, “in the way or…being a burden.” When had I said these exact words?

Seokjin nodded once more and exhaled, like he was relieved. “Well thank God that’s outta the way,” he said, pouring another shot for both of us. He raised his glass for me to bump, and I did with furrowed brows.

That sentence…that interaction…it was so jarringly familiar. Like I remembered something but only in stranded pieces, like the answer was there in my brain, filed somewhere just barely out of reach.

Jin tipped back his shot, and I didn’t waste any time in doing the same. Frustrated, I took the shot down and poured another.

“Eunbyul, please, just…tell me your address!” whined Seokjin as I leaned heavily against him, both of us walking in an unsteady line down the sidewalk.

I shook my head, shutting my eyes and stumbling just slightly. “No! I don’t give my address to strangers. No, no.”

“We aren’t strangers!” he protested, groaning. He dragged me beside him like a limp doll.

I dug my heels down into the sidewalk and Seokjin skidded to a halt, whipping around to pout at me. “Okay, then what’s my address?” I asked, placing both hands on my hips and staring at him through half-open eyes.

He scoffed. “I don’t know it!”

“Then we’re strangers. Friends know,” I said with a nod, turning on my heel to walk staunchly back to the restaurant.

“No, no! Eunbyul, the shop is closing, we gotta go!” he said, grabbing me by the crook of the elbow.

I shouted and tried to thrash out of his grip. “Hey!” I shouted, turning to glare up at him. “You can’t just grab women! Or men! Or non-binary people! You-you can’t just grab people!” I said, shaking my head.

He sighed, gripping his nose bridge. “Jesus Christ,” he mumbled.

I sighed and swayed a little. “Take me home, Jin,” I commanded, pointing my finger at him.

He rolled his eyes. “That’s what I’m trying to do!”

“Huh! Did you just roll your eyes at me?” I asked, stumbling closer with my finger pointed squarely at him. “Are you disrespecting me?”

He laughed, leaning away from me as I stood an inch away from him. “No, Eunbyul. I’m trying to get you home.”

I hummed. “Well I don’t give my address to strangers,” I said, smirking as I crossed my arms.

He groaned. “This is going nowhere,” he said, sighing as he turned his back to me. He bent a little at the knees and patted his lower back with one hand.

“What kind of pose is that?” I asked, laughing.

“Not a pose,” he said, peeking at me over his shoulder. “Hop on.”

I raised my brows. “On your back?”

“Yeah. You’re slowing us down anyway,” he said. “And since you won’t give me your address, I’ll just take you to my place until you sober up. It’s a block away.”

I hummed and sauntered toward him, draping my arms over his shoulders and holding tight. He grabbed both of my thighs and stood up straight. “I haven’t had a piggy-back ride in years,” I giggled into his ear.

He nodded with a grunt, adjusting me on his back. “Mhm.”

“Hey, is your heart racing?” I asked, patting his chest with my palm. “Having someone so close?”

His laugh rang out into the near-empty street. “What am I, a middle schooler?” he asked.

I chuckled. “No,” I said. “Big middle schooler.”

“I’m too smart to be a middle schooler anyway,” he said with a sigh, our pace slow as we walked down the night-drenched sidewalk. Streetlamp's punctured the darkness only every now and again. I was briefly relieved that Seokjin was here.

“You didn’t answer though,” I said, letting my head loll forward so I was closer to his ear. “Is your heart racing? Like badump-badump,” I said, laughing as I blew a puff of air against his skin.

He gagged. “God, you’re giving me goosebumps!” he exclaimed. “And the answer is no, alright?”

“Hm…,” I said with a nod, shutting my eyes as I rested my head against Jin’s shoulder. “Me either. Weird, huh?”

“I must not be your type,” he said with a laugh.

I smiled. “I guess not,” I said, yawning as I nestled into his back. Somehow, it was warm and comfortable and the siren song of sleep was inescapable.

My head throbbed as I peeled my eyes open, finding myself lying on my side in the darkness. It took me several disorienting moments to realize where I was. The pitch blackness, the vague chill amongst the absolute absence of feeling…

“Eunbyul,” said a voice from beside me.

I turned and found Namjoon, sitting by my thigh with squinted, tired eyes and a soft dimpled smile. I sighed, relieved to remember it all again. “It’s Namjoon!” I said, pushing myself up to sitting and collapsing against his chest. As my chest collided with his left pectoral a slew of giggles escaped me. “Oh no,” I said, laughing against him.

He placed gentle hands on my shoulders and guided me back, brows furrowed as he scrutinized me in the dark. “You…are you drunk right now?” he asked.

I sniffled a little and reached grasping fingers out toward his torso, eager to hug him close again. “Mm, a little,” I said, then laughed again. “A lot.”

He sighed, gripping his nose bridge, and shut his eyes for a moment. In an instant, we arrived in a nice apartment, furnished monochromatically with greys and blacks and whites and blues. Directly behind me was a nice white sofa and a big television screen. Wide-eyed, I looked around me with a grin. The kitchen adjoined the living room, and the floor was chilly. Polished tile. I ran a finger along it and laughed.

“Wow,” I said as I glanced around.

Namjoon nodded, standing and walking quickly into the kitchen. He rifled around in the big fridge and produced an ice pack, falling once again to his knees beside me. “Not sure what good it’ll do since we’re in a dream, but it’s worth a shot,” he said, placing the pack along my hairline.

I hummed, nodding once with shut eyes as the pleasant cold spread across my skin. “Feels nice,” I mumbled. “Ahh, but where is this?” I asked, opening only one eye to peer at him from above the rims of my glasses.

He chuckled and helped me to my feet, guiding me to rest on the couch. He joined me with a thump and a sigh. “It’s my apartment. Well…the one I share with a senior from college.”

“Ah, so you live with a friend?” I said, smiling with a nod. “Good! Now I don’t have to worry.”

He laughed. “You were worried?”

I nodded, eyes shut, and leaned back against the couch. “Mhm,” I said, then jumped and snapped my fingers, eyes wide. Namjoon stared at me, clearly startled, and grabbed my shoulders to keep me from moving too much. I turned to him. “You came to the shop today.”

He exhaled slowly and nodded. “Ah, that?” he asked, releasing me. He turned a little bashful, rubbing his arm with a shy smile. “I’m commissioning Jimin.”

“He’s talented!” I exclaimed, clapping my hands. “Really good, really.”

Namjoon turned to me and chuckled. Carefully, he twisted around and grabbed the thick blanket draped over the back of the couch. He returned to me with a gentle, tired smile and placed the blanket over my legs and torso, grabbing the fallen ice pack and replacing it atop my head. I offered him a slow smile and, without thinking much, reached out and pinched his cheek.

He laughed, grabbing my hand so I’d stop squeezing his skin, and instead simply interlaced our fingers. I felt my face go hot and forced myself to look away, look back at the coffee table. “I saw you there,” I said, and the drunken haze relented for just a moment. “For a second, but I knew somehow.”

“You knew what?” he asked, leaning in to get a better look at me.

I leaned back, flushed. “I dunno. Just knew.”

He smiled and that did me in. The dimples, the rows of perfect teeth, the way his eyes got smaller like he really meant it. My heart kicked up, stomach fluttering. I blinked at him for a moment. “Hey, I wanna kiss you. Is that alright?” I asked before I could stop myself.

His smile vanished and it was his turn to go red. “Huh?” he asked, eyes round, innocent. “W-wait, you’re drunk, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Then no,” he said, pulling back a little.

But I kept a firm hold on his hand. “But I want to.”

He laughed, eyeing me from a safer distance, still beautiful even in the dim apartment. “Tomorrow night then. If you’re sober.”

“I can be sober,” I said with a nod. I released his hand and crossed my arms, clearing my throat. I settled my gaze on him and locked my jaw, nodding again. “Sober.”

He laughed once more and shook his head, and it was clear he was now on guard. “No,” he said.

I sighed, collapsing back against the couch. “You’re right. I’m drunk,” I said with a laugh. “It’s your fault anyway. Seeing you today made me feel weird.”

He chuckled. “Really?”

“Mhm.”

“Well…I saw you too. I was watching you at the wheel,” he said with a wistful sigh, eyes going faraway. “You looked…really cool.”

I laughed. “Me? Cool?”

“Really cool,” he said. “You looked…peaceful, I guess. Your hands anyway. That’s all I could see.”

I hummed. “I messed it up.”

He glanced out the window behind my head, at the full moon, and smiled just barely. “Did you?” he asked. “Isn’t that normal though?”

I stiffened. “Huh?”

“Isn’t it normal to mess up sometimes? So that you can get better?” he asked.

I blinked, eyes wide, and stared right at him. At the peaceful smile on his lips, the warmth in his gaze, the way his skin went gold in the low light. “You sure I can’t kiss you?” I asked, persistent as my heart kicked up again.

He laughed. “No,” he said, eyeing me. “What’s gotten into you? Is this how you are when you drink?”

I pouted, crossing my arms and leaning away from him. “No,” I said. “As a matter of fact, it’s not. I didn’t even feel anything tonight for Jin and he carried me back to his place.”

At this, Namjoon’s smile vanished and he squared his gaze on me without a hint of playfulness. Deathly serious, his brow furrowed. “He took you back to his place?”

I covered my mouth. “No! Not like that,” I said. “I didn’t wanna give him my address so…”

He exhaled loudly, glancing back at the floor. “Byul…”

“I promise! I don’t have feelings for him anymore,” I said, shaking my head and lifting my arms to form an X in front of my chest. “Not at all.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” he said, rubbing his temples. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

I nodded. “He’s nice.”

Namjoon eyed me, skeptical. A few tense moments passed that way, me desperately and drunkenly attempting to sate his concerns and him watching me carefully. He raised one brow. “Are you sure you don’t like him?”

I shook my head and patted my hands against the couch. “No!” I whined. “I’m certain. Even today, without my memories, I didn’t feel anything and that’s what made me feel weird, you know?” I asked, sighing. “I think from the start it was just because of one thing.”

“Huh?”

“Why I liked him in the first place,” I said, running a hand through my hair and knocking the ice pack onto the floor. I stared down at it with a sigh, my attention stolen. “He reminded me of a boy I knew when I was a kid. Confident and handsome and smart. Someone I could depend on,” I said, then laughed. “But he’s not like that at all!”

“You realized that?” asked Namjoon.

I nodded, then paused to cough a little. “Ah, you know, when I was a kid I got lost? For a few days, you know? I got lost in the woods and couldn’t find my way out,” I said, laughing. But an old ache returned, an old anxiety. And laughing didn’t fix it. I paused. “Mm…it was scary.”

“You never told me that,” he said softly, watching me from across the couch.

I laughed again and patted his arm. “Don’t look guilty! It’s not your fault,” I said with a sigh. “Ah, anyway, I don’t have feelings for Seokjin. I promise,” I said, holding out my hand for him to shake.

Namjoon raised his brows and, tentatively, took my hand in his, shaking twice. “I mean…I don’t really have any right to tell you who and who not to like…”

“You still don’t believe me!” I exclaimed, tearing my hand away. I stood to my feet and crossed my arms, staring down at him with a glare. “How can I prove it?”

He chuckled and shook his head, reaching out to gently touch my waist with one hand. “You don’t have to, alright? It’s fine. We…we’re in a very unique situation.”

“Hah! It still sounds like you don’t believe me,” I protested, frustrated. I bent at the waist so our eyes were level and I noticed his go wide. “Tell me the truth. Are you regretting confessing to me last night?” I asked.

He stiffened. “Huh? What-no! Not at all,” he said, laughing. “What would give you that idea?” he asked, his thumb rubbing into my side, comforting.

I inhaled sharply. “Well you don’t believe me about Jin, and you won’t let me kiss you. I’m wondering if you regret it,” I said, throat constricting. “I wonder if you’d be relieved if I liked Jin.”

He raised his brows. “What? I’m only saying no because you’re drunk,” he said with another laugh.

“Don’t laugh!” I said, eyes teary. “I think I really like you, okay?”

He barely contained another laugh behind one hand and shook his head. “Me too.”

“Even now?”

“Somehow, yeah,” he said.

I knitted my brow, still bent uncomfortably to look at him close. And, too soon, I felt that distinctive tug in my chest. Namjoon’s eyes flashed with panic, and I knew he’d felt it too. We locked gazes and I felt my heart begin to race.

“A-a peck then,” I said, raising my brows.

He laughed, tossing his head back, his hand still warm against my waist. “You’re still on that?”

I nodded. “Since we’re waking up soon anyway…,” I said, pouting. “What’s the harm?”

He smiled. “You’re a good salesman,” he remarked, laughing again.

“Is that consent?” I asked.

Again, through laughter, he responded. “Yes.”

“Okay,” I said with a nod, placing both of my cold hands against his warm cheeks. I bent down just a little closer and, wordlessly, pressed a chaste kiss against his lips.

“Ugh,” I groaned as I rolled over in the sheets.

I yanked my glasses off my face and tossed them aside, but as soon as I did I regretted it as I heard them clatter against the ground. Strange. Normally, I’d have enough space in my bed to toss my glasses onto the other pillow. Slowly, I peeled my eyes open and saw to my surprise that not only was the bed smaller — a full instead of a queen —, but the sheets were unfamiliar and the scent wasn’t mine.

I jerked upright, but as I did my head began spinning and I felt I might vomit. I held a hand firmly against my mouth and squeezed my eyes shut, holding it in. I tried to manage my breathing, but I felt remarkably ill.

Of course, it was a hangover.

I opened my eyes once more and glanced around, running a hand through my knotted, slept-on hair. The clock on the wall read 4:03. Jin’s apartment was small, a studio, with sparse furniture and few decorations. It seemed the most expensive thing in the whole apartment was a pretty, large media setup complete with fluorescent keyboard and gaming computer. I’d only seen those sorts of things in videos online. Wincing, I looked around once more, but like the first time I found no Seokjin in the dark studio apartment.

Carefully, I swung my legs out over the bed and, trying not to disrupt my equilibrium too much, padded across the faux wood floor to the kitchen in search of water. As I passed the old sofa, I noticed a few pillows and a blanket strewn haphazardly across it. He’d given me the bed to sleep on the couch? Softly, I smiled and folded the blanket, laying it across the back of the couch. I reorganized the pillows and made a halfhearted effort to remake the bed.

The security system sang a little tune and Seokjin entered, popping off both shoes and flicking on the light before even noticing I was up and walking. But when we met eyes, we both shouted in surprise.

“Ah!” he screamed, dropping the grocery bags he’d been carrying. Startled by the sound of groceries hitting the floor, he jumped and I fell to my knees to help recollect the fallen goods. “Shoot, when did you wake up?”

I shook my head, but even that made me want to barf. “Um, just a few minutes ago.”

He sighed as we finished repacking the food and led the way into his kitchen where he set the bags on the counter. “Sorry I was out. I realized I didn’t have any real food, so I…,” he said, then waved his hand. “Let me go open the window or something. Smells like alcohol in here.”

“What are you doing up so early?” I asked, watching him

He maneuvered around me, hopping over a few miscellaneous clothes and household items strewn on the floor to the window. “Ah, couldn’t sleep. I was…kinda worried,” he said with a laugh. Like it was no big deal.

He pulled the curtains up and swung it open, letting fresh summer morning air leak inside. The sky was lavender with the breaking day, and the cityscape looked all too big from behind Seokjin’s small window.

I began unpacking the groceries quietly, sighing as I placed a bell pepper on the countertop. “I’m…I’m really sorry about last night, Seokjin.”

“I told you to call me Jin, right?” He searched my face with a smile and, upon finding none, simply sighed. He joined me and rested a hip against the counter, crossing his arms. “Hey, don’t be sorry. It was…mostly fun,” he joked, shoving my shoulder.

I laughed and nodded, rubbing my aching head. “I guess so.”

“If you feel bad, help me make breakfast,” he said with a grin. And, of course, I couldn’t say no.

But as I began removing packages of food from the plastic bags, I began to feel that tingly sensation in my lips again, and my focus wouldn’t waver as I touched my lip with a fingertip.

Seokjin worked the stove as I chopped vegetables. He’d insisted upon fried rice for breakfast. Something about oil and carbs being good for hangovers. I wouldn’t have known any better anyway. So instead of questioning him, I simply chopped.

“Sorry for…you know, the state of this place,” said Seokjin with a sigh as he swirled oil and rice around in the pan.

I raised my brows. “Hm?”

“I know it’s small,” he said, chuckling. “And messy. And outdated. And kinda empty.”

I shook my head. “Not at all,” I said, meeting his eyes gently with a smile. “I think it’s fine.”

He smiled and laughed lightly. “Thanks for saying that, but I know it’s not much,” he said, once more sighing. “I moved out of the house when I was seventeen and this was the only place that would take a kid that young with no job, so I just haven’t left.”

“You left home?” I asked, eyeing him.

He nodded, adding in the kimchi and peppers. “Yeah,” he said, smiling at the food. “I guess that’s surprising, huh?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, my home life wasn’t so healthy. I had to leave otherwise I’d have ended up in a bad situation,” he said, waving one hand and wielding a spatula with the other. “Anyway, I’m making okay money now, but moving sounds like a chore. Besides, the more I save the more fun things I can buy.”

I smiled. “Like your gaming setup?”

He grinned brightly at me with a nod. “Yeah, exactly,” he said, chuckling. “I don’t wanna be house poor or car poor or anything like that. I’d rather live someplace shitty but do what I like.”

“Hm…,” I said. “I’ve never really thought of it that way.”

“Do you think less of me?” he asked, but the conscious look my way made it clear he was only joking halfway.

I shook my head. “Not at all,” I said, sliding the broccoli toward him. “I’ve just been learning a lot lately. About…the different ways people live their lives. I guess…it kinda makes me feel better knowing there’s no one way to live. That there are billions,” I said, then shrugged. “I guess it’s comforting to think there’s no metric, you know? No way to conclusively measure a person.”

He was quiet for a long moment before laughing a booming laugh. I jumped, turning to face him with wide eyes. “That’s the most you’ve ever spoken to me,” he said, still laughing.

I blushed. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

He laughed again and smacked my arm. “I’m not saying it’s bad,” he said, still smiling. “It’s…cool, I guess. To hear that that’s what you think. I didn’t know you thought about those things.”

“Doesn’t everybody think of those things?” I asked.

He eyed me. “Hey, how old are you?”

I stiffened. “Twenty-two,” I said.

He smirked, crossing his arms. “I’m older than you, kiddo. You’d better start speaking to me more respectfully.”

I raised my brows. “How old are you then?”

“Older than you.”

I gaped. “I told you my age!”

“And since I’m older I reserve the right to not respond,” he said, laughing once I scoffed in disbelief.

“That’s not fair at all!” I shouted, wagging a finger at him. “We live in a democratic society where a person’s value isn’t related directly to their age!”

He laughed again. “This is Korea!”

“So?!”

He continued laughing for a long moment before settling down with a simple smile. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you yell,” he said.

I blinked at him, swallowing hard. “Well…you provoked me,” I said, sheepish as I crossed my arms.

He chuckled. “Say…I don’t have, you know, all that many…friends,” he said.

I raised my brows. “Huh?” Why was he telling me this?

He hummed a little, tending to the food with his back to me. But I suspected he was a bit nervous. “I feel like we get along well, that’s all,” he said with a shrug. “So…if you wanna hang out some more sometime, just…call or something, okay?”

I stiffened. Isn’t this the part where I get nervous? Where my heart skips? Where my stomach flips? Why, then, was I simply standing dumb on the linoleum floor, watching Seokjin’s broad back as he worked over the food, feeling nothing but platonic fondness?

I swallowed hard, touched my lip, and nodded once. “I…I’ll do that then.”

“You what?!”

I winced, still sensitive as my hangover began to dissipate, and eyed Gaeul from across the living room where she slaved over the peak of a mountain on her mural. She stared at me over her shoulder with her mouth agape, eyes like saucers.

“I slept over,” I said, shrugging as I peeled garlic cloves, setting them aside in a bowl as Gaeul had instructed.

“So that’s why you never came home for movie night?” she asked through disbelieving laughter.

I sighed. “It wasn’t like that,” I groaned, rubbing my head against the bright work lights Gaeul had set up in front of her mural.

She scoffed. “How do you know?” she asked, smirking as she returned to adding scraped of white down the side of the mountain.

“Because…I didn’t really feel anything special,” I said, nodding.

She stopped for a second before regaining her blasé rhythm and hummed. “Weird.”

“Yeah…,” I said, chewing on my bottom lip. It felt weird today too, just like before. Like I’d been stung by something, or like static. “Anyway, I think we’re friends.”

She chuckled. “Only you would go to a man’s house for the night and leave as friends,” she said, shaking her head.

“Well…,” I mumbled, still peeling the soaked garlic.

“I guess you lost feelings then,” she said absently. “Wonder why.”

I shook my head. “Dunno.”

She smirked, eyeing me. “Maybe you like someone new now,” she remarked before returning to her art.

And something about the phrase hit me weird, like a shove to the chest. I sat there, puzzled, for a long moment. Garlic clove in one hand and knife in the other, sitting criss-crossed in front of the coffee table, slack-jawed.

Even though that was impossible, even though I definitely didn’t have those feelings for anyone else…

Still I couldn’t help but sit there and ponder it.

Because, as I thought about it more, the sensation on my lips…felt vaguely like being kissed…

[softkent]

snow, snuggles, and shitty

Kent Parson/Jack Zimmermann, Jack Zimmermann & Shitty Knight Rated M Tags: Snowed In, Injury Recovery, Anxiety, Coming Out, Temporary Mobility Aid Chapter 1/?  2.1k words 

for @parsebingo​ squares  snowed in, injury, recovery, shower sex, bed sharing.

read on ao3

Before the Aces announce Kent being put on IR, he texts Jack, asking if he could come for a quick visit while his knee rests. Of course Jack immediately thinks of how it would be to wake up next to Kenny again, to just be close to him, but his rational side speaks first.

Doesn't the team need your support? What about training? Kit needs--

Kent fields the questions sufficiently enough for Jack to concede. He books his flight before Jack can change his mind.

Jack isn't worried. Really. Everything is going to turn out fine. None of this is going to cause him any problems. Everyone won't think anything of Kent coming to visit him. The world knows they're friends. His friends know he and Kent are friends. No one will look beyond that.

Okay, Jack's worrying a little. He's talked things over with Kent, who reassured him for the hundredth time that things are gonna be fine, but Jack's anxiety didn't get the memo. He takes in a long breath through his nose and puffs it out through his mouth in a frustrated sigh.

With everyone else out for classes or studying, Jack has the Haus to himself, awaiting Kent's arrival. He’s picking away at the blanket covering the green couch waiting for Kent to knock on the front door. With each passing minute, Jack comes up with more reasons for Kent not to be here. He'll hate the Haus, the couch, berate Jack for using the roof as a room, and so on. He realizes all these passing problems aren't real. Kent wouldn't judge him.

A rapping on the door makes Jack jump out of his thoughts.

“Ziiiiiimms!” he can hear Kent whining a little muffled out on the porch. “I’m freezing out here!”

Jack gets up and jogs to the door. When he swings it open, a gust of biting wind blows into the house followed by a shivering Kent with the help of crutches. He watches as Kent bends down to unlace his boots.

“You’re the one that wanted to come visit me in winter,” he reminds him, reaching out to hold his shoulder when he sees Kent swaying a little with his weight on his bad knee. “Here, let me,” he says in a huff.

He bends down himself to untie the boot himself. Kent looks away from Jack’s ministrations and bites at his lip. If it weren’t for the cold outside, Jack thinks the pink on his cheeks is from the embarrassment of needing help.

“Thanks,” Kent whispers when Jack sets his boot beside the other near the other shoes littering the entrance way. “We, uh, we alone?”

Jack stands up, taking his time to let a smile spread across his lips when he’s looking down at Kent’s hazel eyes. He nods, knowing what’s coming. He throws his arms out to steady them both when Kent jumps forward, grabbing Jack’s face and bringing him down into a kiss.

Immediately, Jack is pulled back into the thousands of kisses they’ve shared over the years. Kent’s hands are cold, but sure holding his face like it’s something precious. They’re chests press firmly together. Jack bends down a little to make the reach easier on Kent with his one good leg. Jack’s chapped lips catch a little against Kent’s, but neither of them pay it any mind.

Kent pulls back enough to smile wide at Jack. He’s familiar with this look--so open and warm. Jack knows he looks the same--looks like he’s brimming with love. He leans in to press a peck to the corner of his smile.

“Thank you for coming,” Jack whispers to him and slips his hands firmly around his boyfriend’s middle--holding him close as he buries his face into his neck to breathe him in.

“Hey,” Kent says, patting Jack’s back. “Don’t mention it. This is a completely selfish trip.”

They laugh for a moment as they appreciate each other’s presence. Jack can’t remember the last winter he felt this warm. Jack’s foot nudges Kent’s bag, making a point and distracting him from the flood of butterflies in his stomach.

“Want me to get this upstairs? I can’t have you eating it trying to juggle things while climbing the stairs with that,” Jack explains, nodding to his crutches.

Kent rolls his eyes. “I got up that hell of a sidewalk all on my own, big guy, with ice! I think I can handle a few steps.”

Jack puts his hands up in defeat. “Alright. Guess you don’t need me to carry you up either, then.” His boyfriend’s eyes go wide for a second and he opens his mouth to protest. “No, no. It’s all good. You can handle yourself.”

“That was before I knew you carrying me was an option. You know how much I...enjoy you lifting me.”

“Or is it why I’m usually lifting you that you enjoy?” Jack asks, walking off into the living room.

Kent hobbles after him, scoffing. "Well, nobody told me that was on the table!"

He collides into Jack with groping, hopeful hands. Jack keeps their balance, again, and wonders if he'll end up getting injured himself before Kenny heads back to Las Vegas. He still wasn't sure how long Kent will be staying.

Like he'd suggested, Jack quickly bends his knees and gets his hands under Kent's ass. He lifts him up to wrap his legs around him, giving him ample time to steady himself without hurting his knee and starts walking up the stairs, duffle bag forgotten by the front door.

“Jackie-boy! You aren’t going to buh-lieeeeve what that white supremacist asshat said in class today,” Shitty yells once he’s inside the Haus, knocking the snow off his boots.

He looks up when he doesn’t get his usual hello. A few feet down the hall is a duffle bag next to a pair of crutches. He toes off his boots without bothering to unlace them and hops in stocking feet away from the entryway in an attempt to avoid wet socks.

Shitty peeks into the living room. Jack’s school stuff is on the coffee table with the TV off. He looks back to the duffle bag and crutches. On top of the bag, an Aces hat is resting upside down. One of Shitty’s eyebrows shoots up as a large smirk pulls up the corner of his mouth.

Before Shitty heads upstairs to put away all his class shit, he picks up the duffle bag and tucks it beside the stairs, out of the way, and picks up the crutches. Since nobody’s down here, whoever needs them is probably going to need them getting down here. Though he’s pretty sure he knows who must be up there with Jack, he doesn’t let himself fully think it. Jack’ll tell him, or he’ll find out eventually. No need to ponder it. He thinks about knocking on Jack’s closed door, but instead quietly leans the crutches beside it and tiptoes down to his door.

Jack wants to thank his therapist for suggesting he focus his schedule around morning classes. He knows it was meant to help him get up and out of the house first thing so he won't have time to dwell and build up his anxiety, still being partially asleep, but if one of the perks is the entire afternoon in bed with his boyfriend maybe he should send her some flowers...

"You sure you don't wanna do online school and come live with me?" Kent asks through his heavy breathing and blissed-out expression, laying naked and half on top of Jack. "I could get used to this."

Jack rolls his eyes and catches his own breath for a second. "You sure you don't want to get traded to the Falconers or something?" Jack asks with a smile, thinking back to all the times they've joked about this. "I could definitely get used to you being here."

Kent smacks what he can reach of Jack's ass and slides off of him onto the other side of the bed. He curses having forgotten to watch out for his leg and readjusts to stretch it out.

"Did you lie to me about the PT guy saying this was okay?"

"No! I would never lie about sex, Zimms."

"I meant coming here in the first place...Wait, did you really ask about sex?"

Kent laughs and nods. "Hell yeah, I did! Gotta ask the important questions: sex, showering, and driving. All of which are completely good-to-go."

Jack pulls Kent to him, letting him rest his head against his chest and places a quick kiss to the top of his messy, blond hair. "Does that mean you're ready to go again?"

Kent kisses Jack’s chest with a smile and licks his nipple in a fast, completely unsexy way. Jack finches away with an unexpected giggle, shielding his other nipple from Kent with his hand. From the glimmer in Kent’s eyes, he knows he’s a goner. Jack has never won a tickle fight in his life.

As the guys trickle on back home from a day of boring classes while they were wishing they were out playing in the snow or even just at home sleeping, the sky gets darker and the snow’s falling faster. When Holster stumbles in past the wind, the snow building in front of the porch is halfway up his shins.

Jack and Kent are warm up in bed with Jack’s laptop perched on his knees playing a cat video Kent insisted they had to watch before Jack could play another YouTube video in some series called Facts You Wish You Didn’t Know About Our Past Leaders.

Kent tells him again with deadly sincerity, “you can only go so far down to YouTube rabbithole before you come up for air and a good ole cat video and restart the cycle or you’ll end up watching some of the weirdest ever made by man at three am questioning reality.”

Jack’s giggles shake his stomach and computer so much the screen tips back so neither of them can see the video anymore, only causing his laughing to increase.

“You goober,” Kent chuckles and moves the laptop to the nightstand after pausing the video. “I think that’s enough of YouTube before we go insane.”

“Goober? Really?”

Kent tries to push Jack off the bed, but Jack grabs onto his arm. They shuffle back and forth for leverage until Kent tips backwards, head towards the floor, with Jack sliding over top of him. They’ve half laughing, half screaming when someone knocks on the door.

“You dyin’ in there?” Shitty yells through the bathroom door.

Jack tries to right himself, but Kenny slides out from under him to the side, causing Jack to slip onto the floor.

“Ow! Told you I’d end up injured! Nah, Shitty. Nobody’s dying!” Jack yells back to him.

He’s about to tell him to come in and say hi to Kent when he remembers their clothes are still next to his door instead of covering them up. He glances up to where Kent is sitting stark naked without a single iota of modesty, legs fully splayed, and stifling his laughter behind his hand.

Along his neck are a few red marks popping against his lightly tanned skin. A few streak trail down Kent’s chest where Jack’s fingernails traversed his body down to his hips earlier to get better leverage. In the back of his mind, he’s glad Kent won’t be stripping down in a locker room full of chirps and interns taking photos for social media.

“Alrighty, brah. What do you want for noms? Dining hall closed early ‘cause of the storm. I’m thinking pizza,” Shitty yells to him.

Kent looks at him expectantly. When Jack doesn’t answer straight away, he nods at him and motions to the door. Jack relents and tells Shitty they’ll be down soon.

“I thought you might want to avoid everybody for as long as you could…,” he mumbles while picking up his pants.

“Why would I do that? Hey, look at me…” Kent says, voice laced with concern. He waits until Jack turns back to him before he goes on, “I love you and am part of your life. I’m not going anywhere or trying to hide from your friends. I know you have good taste, so I’m sure we’ll get along.”

Jack looks away with a nod. The voice of his anxiety isn’t reality. Sometimes, it’s just so hard to separate the two. The nagging feeling that Kent’s just saying things to make him feel better sits in the back of his mind, but he choose to trust what he’s saying. Kent came all this way. He wouldn’t have done that just to hook up.

“Yeah, I know you’ll like ‘em.”

[not-just-any-fangirl]

Could you possibly do a Nalu photographer shoot AU? Natsu being the Model and Lucy being the photographer. Thank you!!

He’s A Natural

Pairing: Nalu

Word count: 1397

A/N: Have some Scottish Natsu! And Canadian Lucy, but that’s more from me using my own euphemisms lmao. This could get so much longer, and maybe ‘ll continue it when I’m not swamped! So model Natsu is always a fun thing, and tbh hot damn. 

“It won’t be hard, they said.

“You seem so much more comfortable behind the camera, they said.

“Just one photo shoot, they said.”

Lucy grumbled to herself, pacing in the space set aside for breaks. The white tent was partially open, but it still managed to hide her from the source of her spiking anxiety. The very attractive, very pink, and very naked source.

“Do a natural outdoor scene, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.”

“Are you done talking to yourself or do you need another five?” Lucy sighed loudly, glaring at Loke’s head where he peeked around the corner of her sanctuary. “Seriously, the poor guy’s gonna freeze his dick off.”

“Then maybe he should put on some pants.” Lucy snapped, slumping into a chair and burying her face in her hands. She didn’t know why he was affecting her like this. Not only had Lucy worked with gorgeous models before, but she had also seen them naked! In her bed! Genitals did not faze her normally, so why was she losing her shit?

“You ready, Drama Queen?” Loke asked. Lucy pouted, accepting his hand and looking up at him. 

“Fine, but if anyone’s going to be taking him home it’s me, got it?” Lucy said sharply. Loke cackled, throwing his head back. He raked his hand through his wild, ginger hair as he grinned down at her fondly. Lucy liked to tell him it looked like a lion’s mane after she had had one too many drinks.   

“Whatever you say princess,” Loke purred, hooking his arm through Lucy’s and leading her back out to the meadow they were shooting in. “But first you have to talk to him. Maybe learn his name.”

“Shut up,” Lucy grumbled, leaning her head on his shoulder. 

“Thought I scared ya off,” the model joked as they approached, scratching the back of his head bashfully, towel wrapped around his waist. A very, very small towel, fluffy and white, which only made his deep tan stand out more. Who knew pink hair and brown skin went together so well. Or that Lucy had a thing for Scottish accents. 

“What’s your name?” Lucy asked, loudly and suddenly. She felt her face flush hot when the model cocked his head at her, confused smile pulling his lips at her outburst. God, please let a random tree just crush her now.

“It’s Natsu,” he said, holding out his hand. Lucy took it, swallowing around her dry mouth at how big his was compared to hers. And she knew what they said about big hands and big feet…

Lucy yelped when something sharp dug into her side, pouting up at Loke before realizing why he had to shove his bony joint into her ribs in the first place. Her eyes snapped to Natsu’s, deep green almost black and sparkling with impish joy. He knew. And he knew she knew. And she knew he knew she knew. And Lucy was really praying for that stray tree right about now. 

“Lucy. My name- uh, my name is Lucy.” She managed out, blushing deeper at his amused and teasing smile. Oh, he had freckles. Wonderful.

“You can let go of his hand now,” Loke said, grinning down at Lucy smugly. 

“Maybe I like holding his hand,” Lucy retorted, glaring up at her friend. 

“He likes holdin’ your hand too,” Natsu said. He winked at Lucy’s squeak, deep laugh shaking his chest as she dropped his hand. 

“Alright! Either we start now or you’re all walking home!” Gajeel boomed. Lucy rolled her eyes at their equipment manager, ignoring his threat. He’d only followed through with it a couple times. Everyone wandered off to their positions, Lucy fetching her camera and fiddling with it as she kept her back to Natsu. She could do this. Be professional. Don’t take a picture of his dick. All things that Lucy could do. 

Lucy turned around, and marched herself to stand in front of Natsu. Who had lost the towel, and was standing legs spread and unashamed, basking in all his Scottish glory. 

“Do you dye your pubes?” Lucy squeaked, hand slapping over her mouth in horror. She was fired. This was it, her first time as the photographer  and she had blow it oh God Jason was going to kill her and then fire her-

“Ain’t ya a spit fire?” Natsu cackled, easy as he smiled at Lucy. “And I do no’ dye anything. All natural ‘ere.” 

“Oh,” Lucy breathed, some of the awkwardness melting off her at Natsu’s openess. 

“And before ye ask, I’m a grower, not a shower.”

Ahh, there was the mortification. 

“You don’t have to be crude!” Lucy gasped, smiling as she tried turn her face away from him. 

“Ain’t I ‘posed to be the shy one?” Natsu called. Lucy laughed, rolling her eyes before sticking her tongue out at Natsu. They continued to bicker as Lucy directed him this way and that, trying to find the best angle before snapping a photo. Honestly, all of his angles were good, what with his strong cheek bones and slightly pointed chin giving him a playful and boyish handsomeness, slanted eyes bright and framed with thick lashes, nose a little crooked at the bridge but still broad at the tip. And then there were the freckles scattered across his face, like little deep brown constellations. 

“Close your eyes and tilt your chin up. No, not that much. Okay more. Less. Natsu now you’re just doing this on purpose!” Lucy laughed, slightly exasperated by his exaggerated movements. She snapped a picture of his profile, eyes closed and tilted towards the sun, grin pulling the corner of his mouth up, the image on the camera looking as if he was a woodland imp who knew a secret and you didn’t. 

“So bossy,” Natsu teased, opening his eye and looking at Lucy from the corner of it. Lucy snapped another photo, breath catching as she looked down at the screen. 

There sat a picture of Natsu, seductive as he looked at the camera, gaze sharp like a wolf and just as hypnotic. Lucy’s mind shot down to dirty, dirty, places the longer she looked at it. 

“Oh, that’s a good one, ain’t it,” Natsu said, leaning over her shoulder. Lucy squealed, clutching the camera to her chest protectively. Lucy flushed when his eyes followed her motion, lingering a few seconds too long on her cleavage to be innocent. He coughed, eyes flicking away as pink coloured his ears. 

“You two can fuck later, let’s just get a move on to the body shots!” Gajeel called, ripping Lucy from her stupor. She threw her middle finger up at him, glaring when he waved her off and walked away, probably to harass the interns. 

“Ignore him,” Lucy smiled at Natsu apologetically. “His girlfriend’s away for a month and he gets a bit crabby when he doesn’t get laid.”

Natsu’s nose twisted in a grimace even as a low chuckle fell from his lips. “He’s me cousin, I don’ think I need’a know ‘bout his sex life.” he chuckled. His grin grew warmer at Lucy’s shocked expression, arms lifting and crossing behind his head as he continued to talk. “He’s the reason I got the job. It’s me first time modelin’, but I needed the pay, so ‘ere I am.”

“Well you’re a natural at it,” Lucy assured. She could hardly believe this was the first time he had modeled, the camera adored him. 

“Thank ya,” Natsu grinned. Lucy returned it, having to tilt her head up a bit to look at him, standing as close as they were to one another. 

“Seriously, make yer bedroom eyes at each other when we’re not on the job!”

“Piss off ya walkin’ pin cushion!”

Lucy laughed, half hiding her face as she shook her head. Natsu beamed down at her, sharp canine revealed by the curl of his lips. She shooed him further back, taking in a deep breath. Looking at Natsu fully, standing buck-ass naked in the middle of a spring meadow just starting to bloom, Lucy couldn’t help but bite her lip. God, she had no idea what he did for a job, but Lucy was leaning towards boxer if the grooves of his muscles on his chest and abs were any indication. Not to mention his thighs… or his forearms…

She was definitely going to take Natsu home. Or at least out for drinks. 

She needed to know the dirt Natsu had on Gajeel from when they were kids. And just how much of a grower the pink haired model really was. 

[serensama]

To Sing

Hi hi there!!! Just wanted to write something fluffy and different to take a break from angst!! To the wonderful Nonny who sent this in, forgive me- I changed a couple of them to not all be in the shower… I started writing them in one sitting and this is what I saw, my apologies… 

Yoosung:

 -       “Yes! Yes! Get to the damn turret Seo Woo! Don’t let them take it!” he screamed into the microphone, nodding absently as MC told him that she’d be in the shower and not to use the water until she got out. He was so involved in his game she figured he probably wouldn’t move from the spot until he was ready to sleep.

-       “NOOO! ARGH! That’s it, I’m done! If I keep playing with you guys tonight I’m gonna smash my computer screen… in… wait a minute…”

-       Yoosung took off his headphones and strained his ears, he could hear someone singing. Someone singing really, really well- it was probably MC playing music as she showered. He had heard her sing with him before and while she was decent she was no virtuoso.

-       Sliding his chair back and walking the short distance to the slightly ajar door, there was MC behind the shower curtain singing at the top of her lungs. Perfect pitch and perfect tone, her voice bouncing off the small walls of his bathroom.

-       He was so shaken, he stood there for a minute just completely enraptured by her voice.  

-       Watching her sway to the melody she sang, Yoosung was quickly brought out of his daze and rushed back to his LOLOL teammates.

-       Putting his headphones back on he started screaming into the mic excitedly, “My girlfriend can sing! My girlfriend can sing! She sounds like… an angel or something! She’s singing in the shower right now!”

-       Of course, the boys jeered at him but after one told him to prove it, they all started to egg him on, “Prove it! Let us hear it on here!”

-       “But… I’m on my computer. You’ve seen how far the bathroom is, there’s no way the mic will reach all that-”

“Yoosung, take a video so we can see it’s your house and hear it and we’ll believe you and even let you keep the best armour the next time we raid.”

-       How could he deny that? Besides he was so proud of his MC that he would happily share her talent with the world… the fact that he was getting some kick ass equipment out of it as well was just too sweet of an offer to pass up.

-       Sneaking back to the doorway, MC was still singing up a storm oblivious to her boyfriend and his intentions. Yoosung held up his phone and started filming the shower, taking in the details his friends would recognise as his house and not so much on her slinky shadow through the curtain. Her voice was sweet and euphonious and he couldn’t wait until the day that voice sang their children to sleep…

-       “YOOSUNG! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?”

-       The blonde-haired boy almost dropped his phone on the hard tiles in surprise and fumbled with the phone clumsily before catching it and saving the recording correctly.  

-       Looking up he saw a half-covered MC, dripping wet with a creeped-out expression written all over her face. He had just wanted to share her voice with his friends what was so… oh… oh damn… this looked really bad didn’t it… he was sure if he explained properly…

-       “You were just so beautiful in there I told my friends about it and they told me to prove it! They even said that if I showed them I’d get to keep the best stuff next time we play LOLOL together!” he tried to explain, the hand not holding his phone running amidst his hair, ruffling it nervously.

-       MC’s grew more enraged at his words.

-       “Are… are you telling me… that you were bragging about me in the shower and you were encouraged by your friends to see me naked? JUST FOR LOLOL GEAR?” she shrieked, that high voice of hers now suddenly a lot less sweet and pleasant to hear.

-       Realising his mistake, Yoosung waved both arms in the air and begged for her to hear him out. “No, your singing MC! Your singing! You sounded so beautiful I just had to share it!” he reasoned, pressing play on the video as her voice resounded through the speakers of his phone.

-       MC smiled and took the phone from him, editing the end so they didn’t see her jump out of the shower. “Ok baby, I believe you. Thank you… for thinking I sounded so nice that you wanted to share it with your friends.”

-       Yoosung visibly deflated as the tension eased out of his body, now that he knew his girlfriend wasn’t pissed off with him or thought he was some kind of creeper.

-       “Oh, and all that LOLOL gear you’re about to get… that’s mine. My voice. My loot,” she demanded as she left the bathroom to get changed, leaving her boyfriend to collapse to his knees in sadness.

-       Pressing the button again on his phone, he listened as her voice started to sing to him again… smiling, he quickly concluded that, her voice was more than worth some lost gear.

-       Still… a tear was shed…

Zen:

-       Zen was always the last to wake between them both, he stays up late to rehearse his lines or sometimes to throw in a quick run… he often slips into bed long after his Jagiya has fallen asleep.

-       Today however he woke up early, he remembered she had a big meeting with some movie executives to work out his contract and that she was really nervous because she didn’t want to fail him. No matter how many times he told her she was going to do fine and even if she left the room with him being fired from that job; there was no way she could have failed him. She loved him and fought for him and his dreams daily- there was no way he would ever hold any of that against her.

-       So, he set his alarm. He knew that she liked to take long showers in the morning, partially why she woke up so early so she didn’t steal all the hot water from him when he awoke- so he was just going to slip on by and make her a hearty breakfast for when she emerged from the bathroom… but he was halted quite dramatically.

-       By a voice. A wondrous, magical voice.

-       From their bathroom.

-       Pushing the door open, the ivory haired actor leant against the frame with his arms crossed and a surprised but pleased grin forming on his perfect lips.

-       MC COULD SING?

-       MC COULD SING!

-       This was fantastic! But why hide it for so long? Was this what he was missing out on while he sleeping in? If it was, he was never sleeping again!

-       Why did she never say anything to him? Was she always so focused on him and his talents that she didn’t want to intrude? Didn’t she know that she was good enough to join him?

-       Zen stopped himself at that thought.

-       The idea that MC could be his leading lady both on stage and off stage made the beast within him stir with something else other than lust. A strange sort of excitement and pride of both their names, together, up in lights.

-       Walking up to the sink, Zen cleared his throat quietly so she couldn’t hear him over her voice and the water.

-       Picking up his razor and shaving cream, Zen went to work on the stubble on his face, as well as harmonising perfectly with his girlfriend. 

-       Within the first three words of the song, MC’s shampoo covered head poked out from behind the curtain, her eyes as wide as saucers- staring at Zen with cream all over his face resembling a hotter, buffer version of Santa.

-       Zen grinned at her and turned back to the mirror as he continued to shave.

-       “Why didn’t you tell me you could sing this well Jagiya? We could have been doing this months ago!”

-       “Because… because I don’t think I’m good enough to sing in front of you,” she admitted, her cheeks burning even under the cool water.

-       “Nonsense!” her boyfriend chided, waving his razor in the air like a sword, “-You’re so good I’m going to tell the director today that we should cast you and-HEY!” he screamed as he felt her flick water at him indiscriminately.

-       Dropping the razor into the sink, Zen pushed back the curtain and jumped in, clothes and all, to wrap his arms around his laughing partner; blowing wet raspberries against her naked neck and shoulders.

-       Zen couldn’t choose which was more beautiful; her singing or her laughter.

Jaehee:

-       Jaehee had come home early from the coffee shop to hear a resplendent voice, even better than Zen’s, floating around the walls of her apartment.

-       There was MC in the kitchen, her hair in a dishevelled bun, her clothes and apron wrinkled and covered with flour and a dark streak of cocoa against her cheek testing out her new recipes. Singing. Singing so beautifully.

-       Jaehee could feel her heart race, but as a professional fan girl, she pulled out her phone and opened up the voice recorder app and let her girlfriend sing into it for almost 15 minutes.

-       Jaehee didn’t want to embarrass her so she made a lot of noise to let her know she was coming in, just in case she didn’t want her to know or feel humiliated knowing her girlfriend was just standing at the front door watching her.

-       Jaehee would always turn on the recording of MC’s voice when she was in the shop alone, her amazing voice filling up the space of the small shop wonderfully.

-       One night as they were watching another one of Zen’s musicals and MC was humming along- Jaehee turned to her and asked her to sing. At the blush that rose from MC’s face she thought maybe her girlfriend was too self-conscious to sing and Jaehee hated herself for getting too deep into her wine glasses to ask so brazenly.

-       Luckily, MC too, was quite deep into the bottle and nodded before softly chirping along with their actor friend. Reaching all the notes easily even while seated and curled upon herself.

-       Jaehee did the unthinkable. She turned off Zen and listened to MC alone, the same dazed, star struck expression plastered all over her face.

-       After finishing the song, the brunette put her hands into MC’s, “Look how I’m shaking! You’re magnificent! A miracle!”

-       MC laughed and kissed her girlfriend’s hands before putting them back into her lap.  

-       Jaehee lunged forward and grabbed her by the shoulders, her flushed face falling into MC’s bosom, “Please! MC! Please sing at the shop!” before falling fast asleep against her.

-       MC stiffened under her weight but said nothing, hoping that the alcohol would just wipe away all memory in the morning. Not to be, unfortunately.

-       “Please, just think about it. I think your voice will be an amazing addition to our shop, it’s smoother than the blends we sell.”

-       Damn you Jaehee, when did you become so damn smooth yourself.

-       Reluctantly MC agreed, but she wanted to perform during mid-week and near the closing time so she didn’t disgrace herself in front of too many people.

-       Soon… Wednesday was the most popular day of the week, people packing in hours before just to get a seat to the evening show.

-       Jaehee the ever-proud girlfriend… and business woman… started selling MC’s CDs on the counter right alongside her cupcakes and cakes. They sell out every week.

-       “MC… how do you feel about selling t-shirts or keychains? OR MC PLUSHIES- imagine how cute you’d be as a plushie!”

-       “Jaehee. No…. just. No.”

Jumin:

-       He only found out by accident.

-       He was past delirious with a high fever from something horrid he had caught while overseas and was in and out of sleep for two days.

-       MC never left him, save to change his cold compress. She lay behind him, his head cradled on her lap; her fingers through his sweat soaked hair, over his furrowed brow. MC had started to hum to herself whenever her worry would take over- whenever Jumin would stir from a nasty fever or medication induced nightmare- she would hum to pretend it was all ok… and… it calmed him.

-       She tested it over and over, humming to him at different times and each time she would his body would relax and his sleep quality improved dramatically.

-       By the third day, MC weary with little to no sleep, was still threading her fingers through his hair as her now raspy voice sang to him the easiest songs that came to mind- lullabies.

-       When Jumin coughed, MC sat up alert and ready- only to see him awake and staring up at her.

-       “How long have you been awake?” she asked, just happy to see her husband’s steel grey eyes open and clear of confusion.

-       Jumin smiled weakly and mouthed ‘one hour’ to her, his throat far too parched and sore to talk. Enduring the scolding he earned from his wife for just lying there and not letting her know he was awake even though he was dying of thirst, Jumin kept smiling.

-       Once she calmed down and sat back down, a frown still on her face, Jumin tapped at his throat before moving his fingers out to mime a singing motion. MC was surprised, “Me? You want me to sing?”

-       Jumin nodded as his smile grew wider.

-       Not one to deny such a simple request from such a handsome patient, MC acquiesced and sang him back to sleep.

-       She would sing him to sleep for the entire week.

-       He was convinced that her voice held medicinal properties and asked her if she was interested in recording her voice and selling it as a relaxant.

-       She smiled ruefully as she leant in to give her recuperating patient a long and sweet kiss on his lips, “No Jumin. My voice is for you. My voice is only for you.”

-       Something she would almost come to regret saying… Her singing… it soon became… like a drug to Jumin.

-       But he asked for so little from her; if this was the one thing that he wanted of her…

-       Now no other music seemed to compare to his wife’s voice. No classical composition as perfect as her singing. No singer in the history of the world, better than MC.

-       He would ask her to sing to him over the phone when he was having a bad day at work.

-       He would ask her to sing him to sleep when he was overseas.

-       He would ask her to sing when he got home.

-       He would ask her to sing – just because.

-       And each time she would, it would only cement in his mind that his wife was perfection. An angel.

-       “Please darling, sing for me again.”

        “Just for you Jumin.”

  Saeyoung:

-       … he knew MC could sing…

-       He had cameras in that apartment…

-       … he also had microphones…

-       So, when he heard a faint tune coming out of the speakers, he decided to turn it up to see what kind of music MC liked to listen to. You know, so they had more to talk about over the phone and stuff.

-       Listening to a smooth, rich voice he was drawn in for the longest time- gazing dreamily at the screen.

-       But- where was she playing the music from? Her phone was turned off and charging and no other electronics capable of playing music were all turned on.

-       Zooming in, Saeyoung focused in on her pretty little mouth- perfectly moving along with the words that were coming out of his speakers.

-       …and he knew he shouldn’t… he knew that it was an invasion of privacy and she didn’t know him yet or anything… but he recorded her.

-       He would record her as she sang in the shower (he kept his eyes off the screen when he did so)

-       ((mostly))

-       He would record her as she put the groceries away or as she painted her toes.

-       He tried not to blush that every time she would get off the phone from him she’d burst into a happy tune or hum excitedly.

-       Those he recorded just for him…. For him to remember what it was like for her to sing to him, just for him…

-       Even as he stayed with her at Rika’s apartment, he continued to record her.

-       However, his heart would crack each time he would say a horrible thing to her and she would sit in her room and pretend not to cry- singing some of the saddest sounding happy songs he had ever heard.

-       Hearing her sing “You are my sunshine” as tears poured down her face and clinging to a pillow… that was the worst thing he had ever heard.

-       He didn’t record that.

-       When it came time for them to leave the apartment; he would put up the radio loudly so MC would sing along to the music, a smile on her face and laughter in her voice. The way she would sing so easily and so full of joy- he could almost pretend this was just a road trip and that everything was going to be fine.

-       In the cabin that night, lying in each other’s arms, MC sung to him again, her lips moving softly against the skin of his forehead as she did.

-       “You are my sunshine… my only sunshine… you make me happy, when skies are grey…”

-       He wishes that he had recorded that.

-       Before setting off to the next day to save Saeran, as MC sat in the car waiting for him to finish packing up; he uploaded all the clips of her singing he had onto a tripter bot.

-       He had faith in her, in her talent and even if she chose to do nothing about it- even if he died- she would know he went out of this world loving her and believing in her.

-       Of course, they both survived… but he was so busy taking care of his brother that he completely forgot about the tripter bot.

-       Until he was literally quite forced to tell MC about it- when they started playing her voice clips over the radio to try to find the mysterious singer.

-       Saeyoung sat back and pondered over his options- to just tell her, honest and simple why he had done it and hope that she wouldn’t kill him- or… to not tell her and act all surprised… or make a stupid meme about it and hide out in his office until the storm blew over.

-       Sighing and smacking himself on the forehead, he resigned himself to his fate.

-       Bringing in a whole industrial sized box of HBC and a 24 box of Doctor Pepper into his office, Saeyoung locked the door behind him. It was enough to last until morning.

-       Saeyoung pressed send.

-       Screw facing MC face to face- not when he had a literal bunker to protect him from her wrath.

-       “Saeyoung what the hell did you do?”

        “Do you want me to kill him MC?”

        “No Saeran. Because I’m going to kill him!”

        “Also good.”

Saeran:

-       Saeran looked at his watch again- they were going to be late! If that woman of his didn’t finish getting ready in the next five minutes, they were going to miss the movie and would have to wait another two hours before the next session.

-       After pacing the hall for five minutes and still no sign of MC, he growled in frustration before tearing through the house to get his girlfriend and put her in the car- he didn’t care if she was half naked or still in the shower- they were not going to miss this movie.

-       Thundering down the hall he was about to slam the bathroom door open and yell at her when he heard her singing as she dried her hair.

-       His hand still against the wood of the door, his mouth hanging down, jaw slack.

-       She had an amazing voice.

-       Why… why had she never sung for him before?

-       A rush of self-doubt flooded him- maybe he wasn’t worthy of her singing… maybe she only truly sung in front of those she loved?  She would go to karaoke with her friends all the time but barely so much as hummed around him.

-       Shaking the detrimental thoughts from his mind, he stood and continued to listen.

-       Her voice was so pure and so gentle, like a wash of undiluted calm soothing every ache and scar his body had ever carried.

-       Saeran couldn’t move away from the door, couldn’t make himself stop listening to her- even if it wasn’t for him to hear.

-       They missed their movie.

-       She apologised over and over but couldn’t understand why Saeran wasn’t more upset with her.

-       He never ends up telling her he knows she can sing, even when she does eventually start to sing timidly in front of him and the other RFA members (she explains she’s shy, that her voice is weak and only likes singing duets with others… that she’s far too embarrassed to ever sing alone in front of anyone.)

-       … Because… if he’s honest, he loves sitting outside the bathroom door listening to her singing to herself.

-       He’s afraid that if he ever tells her he knows she can really sing- that she’ll stop.

-       … and… whenever he hears her singing- at night instead of screams haunting him, her song chases them away.

V:

-       V was about to unlock the door to her apartment, when he heard the most amazing voice, muffled through the front door.

-       He knew that voice- yes it had more vibrato and was more musical and lyrical than when she spoke… but it was most definitely MC.

-       Quietly opening the door, he slid in the doorway and watched as she sang along to whatever was playing in her headphones.

-       From prior knowledge, she was singing The Flower duet… and rather splendidly at that.

-       Putting down his suitcase and taking off his sunglasses so he could see her properly- she had never looked more radiant sitting there at the dining table, one foot on the edge of the dining chair as she answered emails for the upcoming RFA party and singing such a beautiful song.

-       V smiled, it took him back to a much simpler time where he had no cares or regrets. It took him back to his childhood where his famous opera singer mother would practise as she watched him playing in the gardens. Or when she would sing him to sleep whenever she was home. Or better yet, when she was on tour and brought him along and dedicated a song just for him… once she even dedicated this particular song to him…

-       When MC finished, he clapped and put his fingers in his mouth to whistle. “Brava! Brava! Bellissima! C’est Magnifique! Encore! Encore!”

-       MC sat there like a deer in the headlights, her eyes wide and her mouth agape- unable to form words.

-       “How long… why didn’t you… you’re incredible MC!” he smiled as he closed the distance in between them and kissed her.

-       “I… no… I’m not V- I-” she tried to rebuke him but each time she would begin he would kiss her mouth or her cheek or her neck, cutting her off until she began to laugh in earnest.

-       “No! I don’t want to hear it, unless the words that are to come out of your mouth are “Yes V! Of course, I’m amazing! I want to sing for you all the time because I know how much you love my voice!”- then I don’t need to hear it darling,” he stated before giving her another quick peck on the nose.

-       She sighed and then looked back up into his vibrant eyes, “Do you really think I can sing well?”

-       V laughed and embraced her, “I’ve lived around singers my entire life and my dear, you are able to stand up there with the greatest,”

“You’re only saying that because I’m your girlfriend”

“Yes. My very talented, lovely, beautiful girlfriend,” he whispered into her ear enjoying the light shiver that coursed through her body.

“Sing for me,” he asked as plain as day. “Please keep singing, for me, for others- please don’t stop. You have a gift and-”

“V- if you say that I am your gift… I’m going to punch you in the stomach for being so damned cheesy”

“Ah…”

“But… I will keep singing for you Jihyun.”

-       Sitting in the tiny apartment, months down the track, V watched on as MC washed the dishes and sang yet another beautiful aria. Spinning the diamond encrusted ring his mother had helped him choose inside his pocket (“She is a Diva Jihyun, she requires the ring of a Diva!”) he smiled to himself as he imagined another blue haired child in the future, watching their mother with rapt attention as she sang to them. It sounded like a good future to be had.

[perpetually-jungshook]

Goldilocks || 06

Happy kind of early 700 followers! How?! I only reached 600 last week. You guys spoil me. As thanks, here’s 6.4k of “pure,” unadulterated Goldilocks.

Rated M (language and smut)

Warnings: Masturbation, hand job, just general cringe worthy stuff

Summary: After getting evicted, your two best friends Jimin and Taehyung offer you a place to stay until you get back on your feet. Needless to say, with a part time job and a mountain of student debt, that’s not happening any time soon. Eventually, they DO become really fond of having you around, helping with chores and even splitting rent. So when you come home one day to find someone has been sleeping in your couch-bed, well… it’s something you won’t take lightly.

Out of context Goldilocks quote: “Wait, random arguments about ass? Or just like, getting mad about nothing? Because one of those is definitely better than the other.”

Links to: Goldilocks Masterlist || Previous || Next Part

not my gif, credit to owner

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A/N: OH LOOK THE RATING CHANGED. If you’re someone who doesn’t like smut, asterisk* is where it starts, skip until the *asterisk where it ends. You won’t be missing plot stuff. I made sure of that. Special thanks to @echo-writes. 

✩✩✩♔✩✩✩

Taehyung’s room, too hot.

Jimin’s room, too cold.

You flop onto the empty sofa. Just right.

While you love Taehyung and his bed, there is a strong possibility that you would give your nonexistent left testicle to kick out Jungkook and sleep here again. Couch is love. Couch is life. You contemplate taking a nap while you have the house to yourself, but then you smell it, something that is awfully, unmistakably him.

You roll sideways, onto the floor, almost hitting the coffee table.

He’s contaminated it.

Jungkook has gone and rubbed his stupid smell all over your precious couch-bed. Not that you… know what he smells like. You cringe. Spending a third night in Taehyung’s bed might not be so bad after all. If you just down another dose of god knows how old NyQuil like the past two days, at least you’ll be spared the horror of another wet dream.

Besides, you’d probably have to fight Jungkook for the couch anyway. Then again, maybe you could shove the golden haired muscle pig into Jimin’s room. That would take care of two problems.

The sound of jingling keys pulls your attention to the entryway. It’s too early for Jimin to be home from work and Jungkook can’t get in without someone unlocking the door for him (maybe there’s still a chance you could “accidentally” leave him outside at some point). So the logical conclusion is, Taehyung is home from school early.

You’re pretty sure he had an exam today, but because your friend is surprisingly one of those people who can get a solid 95% without reading the textbook, studying, or even attending lectures in some cases, he probably finished in less than twenty minutes. Classic Tae. Technically, you’re not supposed to be home either, but your first class was canceled despite having spent all weekend slaving away, shut inside the bathroom on Jimin’s laptop to finish writing your essay.

The bathroom? Yes. Don’t judge yourself. What were you going to do? Continue suffering in Jimin’s room? Move to Taehyung’s and get distracted by the mess that would even put a garbage dump to shame? Or worst of all, confront Jinglekook in the living room or kitchen?

So there you found yourself, in the bathroom hunkered under a layer of blankets in the bathtub and on a throne of pillows, telling all three guys to “fuck off- go piss on a tree” whenever they came knocking. The only time you let them in was the rare occasion you had to leave for important things like food or when you left for a four hour shift at work on Sunday.

You were being difficult, yes.

But if a certain someone hadn’t taken your beloved couch, it wouldn’t have been a problem.

Suddenly, the door swings open, slamming against the wall and bouncing back to hit a very excited looking Taehyung in the shoulder. Leave it to him to make an entrance.

“I’m home early~ before everyone else~” he playfully sings to himself. You contemplate telling him you’re here, but then, “Gonna go watch porn~ with the volume on~”

If you’re going to tell him, now’s the time. From your position on the floor, sandwiched between the couch and the coffee table, you watch as he obliviously saunters down the hall, dropping his backpack and enthusiastically stripping off pieces of clothing in a none-too-graceful dance. First his coat, then his shirt, and oh god there go his pants.

You should really tell him…

Yet, something inside you insists that you don’t, manifesting in a small, warm thread of curiosity that knots in your stomach. It causes you to carefully, quietly get to your feet, ears straining to hear something, anything. Each step takes you closer to his door, interest pricking pleasantly at your skin.

A loud, wet squirt causes you to jerk to a halt. His door is only open a crack and you’re less than a meter away from being able to look inside.*

You can’t help but wonder what position he’s in. Lying down? On his knees? Sitting? You don’t know his kinks. Still, he must have headphones on if you can’t hear the video yet, but lord knows you can definitely hear his first moan. It’s breathy, but low and raspy, a sound that travels straight to your core.

Immediately, the images from your dream begin to surface- Taehyung’s lips exploring your breasts, your legs wrapped around his waist, his hard arousal pressing against you. Heat floods to the pit of your stomach and standing makes it more difficult to press your thighs together, searching for friction, but it’s not like you can just start touching yourself. Can you?

Unable to make a decision, you stall by closing the last few steps to take a peek.

The bed sits directly across from the entry and because the door is cracked open just slightly, you’re only given a sharp forty-five degree angle view of the room. This doesn’t allow you to see what’s on the screen, but from the way he’s kneading his bottom lip between his teeth in concentration…

Of course, you can’t stay focused on that beautiful mouth for long. Taehyung tends to sleep in his boxers, so the sight of his bare chest isn’t exactly new. However, you can see he’s lying on his side, now completely naked, partially propped up on his elbow, head resting against the heel of his palm.

It’s his other hand though- fingers wrapped around his hardening, lube covered length- that draws the majority of your attention. Your eyes widen as you watch him easily, slowly run his fist from the base of his growing erection to the tip.

You can feel the blush color your cheeks, guilt pinching your throat, drying your tongue. And yet are you moving away? Are you telling him he’s not alone? No and hell no.

Taehyung’s fingers lace in his hair, eyelids threatening to flutter shut as his tongue briefly flicks over his lips, toes curling as he circles his thumb across the head of his cock. He lets out another, breathier moan.

The throbbing heat that’s gathering at your core is becoming unbearable and you don’t notice (or choose not to notice) as you slide your fingers to the apex of your thighs, running the middle digit along the seam of your jeans in an attempt to relieve the aching frustration. Some of the tension in your chest begins to evaporate, but your heartbeat starts to hammer in your throat, knees weakening, bliss threatening to knock subtlety down a level on the priority list.

To keep your balance, you rest your forehead against the door frame as Taehyung’s leisurely ministrations begin to get faster, filling the room and hallway with slick, wet sounds.

Forcing your breaths through your nose to try and quiet them, you watch helplessly as he flips onto his back, planting his feet on the mattress, abandoning the video on his laptop screen to begin thrusting upward into his still pumping fist. He seems indecisive about what to do with his other hand, first grabbing onto the sheets, then hovering above a tissue box on his nightstand, then settling on roughly massaging the beautifully tanned, slightly sweaty skin near his collar bones. A guttural sound escapes his throat.

*The already tightly wound coil in your stomach begins to compress, a moan sitting at the tip of your tongue, breathing becoming noticeably heavy.

“Fuck, baby,” he suddenly whines loudly, voice cracking, hand visibly tightening, stilling.

It’s a miracle he hasn’t noticed- wait, ‘baby?’

Taehyung’s gaze suddenly drifts down from the ceiling to meet yours, a wicked smirk twisting the corners of his lips.

Panic searing through your veins, you back away immediately and stumble, shoulders hitting the wall of the hallway which causes you to sink to the floor. Everything feels too warm, namely your face, but it only gets worse when you hear him get up.

Taehyung shuffles to the door, pulling it open to give you a boxy smile, still slowly stroking himself.

“Enjoying the show hmm?” he teases breathily, only making your mortification worse. You knew he wouldn’t care, not really, but Taehyung is the type of person that will give you shit for this for the rest of your pitiful life. Then again, don’t you kind of deserve it? After a few seconds of you not responding he says, laughing,“Aw baby, don’t be shy.”

“Fuck off.”

Attention roaming everywhere but his hand and crotch, you can’t seem to settle on anything. Looking away makes you seem defensive, but you also can’t meet his gaze directly. You eventually settle with the little beauty mark on his nose.

“Touching yourself is normal,” he coos between deep breaths, much to your obvious displeasure and his amusement. “I mean, I can’t say the same for watching someone masturbate but-”

“How long did you know?” you curl into a tighter ball, trying to hide behind your knees.

“Mmm. Well, when I turned over one of my earbuds fell out and I could hear you breathing,” he says as casually as if you were talking about dinner plans. “Now my question is, why over your jeans?”

“Shut up.’”

“I mean, was it not hot enough to-?”

“Taehyung.”

“What? I’m just curious. Kind of like someone else I know…”

Embarrassment flares through your chest and cheeks in the form of an uncomfortable heat, but also through your core as a small quiver.

“I’m sorry, alright? I should’ve said something.”

“You should have, but you didn’t,” there’s a suggestive undertone in his voice that leaves you squirming and suddenly he’s kneeling down, hardened length still in his hand, which has slowed its pumping. At this point, you must admire his self control and the steadiness of his voice. He continues with one word that destroys whatever dignity you have left, “Why?”

“I…” you have to acknowledge that you don’t actually know the answer. Because you’re a pervert? Probably. But do you want to admit that? No. “I just wanted to see…”

“Wanted to see what? My big beautiful dick?” as he’s giggling, Taehyung is clearly teasing, but you can’t find it in you to laugh. “You could’ve just asked.”

What.

Your dream reality hadn’t lied. You and Taehyung had kissed on multiple occasions, but besides his obsession with all things boob, you had never actually done anything with him. Granted, you joke about sex more than enough, but… you stare at the hand wrapped around his length as it comes to a stop near the tip, where he’s leisurely rubbing circles again with his thumb.

Embarrassment sends another chill down your spine and you wrap your arms around your knees. Why do you feel so exposed when he’s the one that’s completely naked? And then, as if it couldn’t get any worse:

“Idea,” he shimmies his shoulders, pulling his bottom lip tightly between his teeth. “Wanna touch it?”

Silence.

“Wah, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but like, I wouldn’t mind.”

Had you heard that correctly? Did he just… proposition you… to touch his dick? You glance down quickly, blush burning your cheeks. This is bad. You should’ve just told him earlier. You should have said something right when he walked through that door. But now you’re here, trying not to stare as of one of your best friends jerks himself off while he’s less than a meter away, watching you watch him. And the worst part? All you think is, “What would it feel like?”

You’d read your fair share of dirty internet smut. Would it be “rock hard” like people claim? Or more flexible? Would the skin be- why are you thinking about this?

You clear your throat, “Tae, I’m gonna be honest and tell you that I’ve never actually… touched a penis.”

He stills, confusion spreading across his expression, “Are you a virgin?”

“I mean, do fingers count?”

“Were they your fingers?”

“Tae.”

“I’m serious.”

“Yes and no… there was one guy a couple years ago-”

“Years?” he sounds astounded.

“I’ve just been really busy with the apartment and family and work and school, okay?” you start sounding defensive, even to your own ears.

He takes a breath.

“Look, baby, there’s nothing wrong with waiting,” Taehyung hums, rising to his feet to back toward his room. He continues with a teasing slowness, “But yknow, if you wanna change it up, I’m just a shout away.”

The typical list of consequences scrolls through your mind on fast forward. Jimin. Roommate. Friendship.

Fuck it.

“Tae.”

“Yeah?”

Before you can respond, you hear the telltale sound of your phone, device frantically vibrating from where you left it in the kitchen. No. That’s the alarm you set to remind you to go to your second class.

You reluctantly push yourself up, “I… need to go to school, but…”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere,” his voice is laced with a playful, suggestive sing-song quality, but it’s also unusually deep, raspy, aroused and only leaves you more frustrated as you race for the door, picking up your phone, jumping into your shoes, and dragging your backpack (well, the one you stole from Jimin after your binder incident on Friday) after you.

Panting, you burst through the door of the classroom only to find that the professor has thankfully not yet arrived. Fuck parking. Fuck your low endurance. And most of all, fuck Kim Taehyung for making you this confused.

“Wow ____, why does it look like a tornado ate you and then shat you out the other end?”

“Thanks Yoongi, how flattering,” you deadpan, taking your regular seat beside him.

“Well you know I live for giving top notch compliments,” he shoots back. You both laugh.

“I just had a crap morning,” you admit vaguely, throwing your notebook and a pencil on top of the ridiculously small university desk, trying to dispel the image of Taehyung from behind your eyelids, frustration still throbbing in your core. “But I’m so ready to take this quiz.”

“Quiz got canceled. Didn’t you get the email?”

You freeze, unsure whether to be relieved or furious. You’d stayed up late last night to read the chapter.

“Clearly your face says ‘no.’ It got moved to Wednesday,” he scrunches his nose at you with a smugness that makes you want to smack him.

Why you’re friends with someone like Min Yoongi, you can’t really say. Maybe it was because you coincidentally ended up in two classes with him two years ago, sat next to him both times- again, coincidentally- and eventually found out you were the same major. At that point, it was only logical that you would schedule as many classes as possible together. After all, while Yoongi seems like a lazy student, always wearing sweats, slowly scratching out notes, and constantly looking ready to fall asleep, you know that he is one of the most diligent, intelligent people you’ve ever met. Unlike Taehyung who’s smart but lazy as- why are you still thinking about him?

As for why Yoongi graces you with his presence, you really don’t know. Maybe it’s got something to do with your killer good looks. Just kidding. You’re pretty sure it has something to do with the fact that you get his sense of humor, generally hate the same things, and don’t pressure him. And isn’t that kind of the basis of friendship anyway?

It probably also helps that you’re both slightly above the average age of the student body. You’d taken a few terms too many to get your general ed done and apparently he’d taken a few years off to work on his music. Somehow, both of you ended up studying literature- well, Yoongi is double majoring in business, but you prefer only torturing yourself a little.

“Stupid fucking school email,” you groan, stabbing the eraser of your pencil uselessly into the notebook. “Why can’t they send us texts?”

Yoongi smirks, “Because that would bee too easy.”

“But why can’t life just be easy? What memo did I miss?”

“The same one that says girls can start the most random-ass argument with a guy after he just fucking coughs.”

“Wait, random arguments about ass? Or just like, getting mad about nothing? Because one of those is definitely better than the other.”

Yoongi looks like he’s about to rip you a new anus and your incessant laughter is probably not helping your case, but before he can reply, the professor enters the room and all conversation politely fades away. Your participation in discussion today is minimal. For that you blame Taehyung as well. Every time you attempt to raise your hand, all you can feel is the ghost of the seam of your jeans running beneath your fingers. Every time you speak, all you can hear is the echo of his moans in your mind.

“Remind me why we took lit in translation,” you complain as you exit the class a torturous hour and forty five minutes later.

Yoongi lets out a humorously derisive hum, “Because it’s required?”

“Right… I knew that.”

“Of course you did.”

He seems to have forgotten about his outburst prior to the start of class, so in lieu of letting him try to verbally beat you to a pulp for your earlier comment, you let go of your curiosity and walk with Yoongi in a pleasant silence to his next class.

“See you later,” he nods, not sparing you a smile but also not ignoring you completely. Since meeting a couple years ago, this is a vast improvement so you don’t really mind.

“Bye Yoongles, don’t forget your essay on Wednesday!” as you run away giggling, he bristles with irritation.

He hates the ridiculous pet name and you know that perfectly well.

Excitement and nervous anticipation waltz through your body as you jog away from your car.

“Tae, I’m home,” you announce, throwing your backpack down near the door. You hadn’t seen Jimin’s car outside and from the lack of noise in the apartment, you’re pretty sure Jungkook is still gone as well. All the better.

“In my room,” he calls back and, kicking off your shoes along the way, you shuffle toward his voice, stopping in the doorway. He greets you with a boxy smile, “Wassup? Did you have fun in class?”

Pleasantries. Alright.

You aren’t sure whether you’re relieved or disappointed to see he’s put on a tee shirt and boxers, but exhilaration bubbles in your chest all the same as you reply, “Remember the quiz I was up all last night reading for? It got pushed back.”

“At least you’ve studied,” he says, pulling the earbuds from his ears and closing his laptop. “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

Is he avoiding the subject because he’s regretting his offer? A little bit more of the excitement changes into apprehension, but you decide to throw caution to the wind. He was technically the one that started it.

“Right. Thanks babe. But, anyway… are you still okay with…? Cuz like…”

“Okay with what?” it takes a few seconds, but Taehyung’s eyes widen slightly in realization. “Wait, you actually want to touch my dick?”

“Yes?” you say, wincing, unsure whether his disbelief comes from his thinking you are joking or the possibility that he had been joking earlier. Anxiety shoots through you like ice.

Taehyung has never been the shy or reserved type, obviously. He’s very open about his sexuality and has almost no shame because, to quote him, “It's just a normal bodily function.”

“But you’ve never touched a dick before,” he sounds like something’s not adding up properly in his head. “And you want to touch mine?”

“Yes?” you repeat, gaze dropping down to stare at the floor.

What if he says no? That thought hadn’t occurred to you before. He has every right to decline your advance- even if he was the one who propositioned it in the first place, so every second he keeps you waiting, staring at you with that dumbfounded expression, you can almost feel hours of your life being stripped away. You chance another look up.

Taehyung’s big brown eyes search your expression for something, but the adrenaline prevents you from reading them. And then he says, “Alright, well what are you doing all the way over there?”

You can feel the blood rush into your cheeks as you close the door, approach the bed where he’s patting the covers, and take a seat. Once you’re settled, sitting crosslegged facing him, Taehyung makes quick work of his boxers, kicking them off and letting them join the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor.

“So what’s the plan, baby?” he giggles, obviously noticing the fact that you’re now looking everywhere but him.

“I guess I just want to… I don’t know… touch it a little?”

“Well go right ahead.”

You don’t move. Pulse pounding in your throat, mouth dry, you inwardly admit that you’re not even sure why you want to do this. Maybe that wet dream got to you more than you’re willing to admit. Maybe you’re finally realizing how hot Taehyung is. Maybe you’re just so sexually frustrated because a certain someone decided to come crash on your couch and rain on your parade- no. He has nothing to do with this.

Besides, it’s only a penis. But will your friendship be weird afterward? Is your arousal and curiosity worth ruining something like that? Still, it’s literally just a penis.

“Baby, don’t be shy,” Taehyung whispers, making you jump as his breath brushes against your ear. When had he gotten so close? A shiver runs up your spine, making you lean away from him. His lips pucker in concern, “You okay?”

“Just nervous,” you admit, running your fingers through your hair.

He lets out a small sigh, “If you don’t want to-”

“No! No, I do. I just… I don’t even know where to start.”

“Well, you’ve pretty much already got me naked, so that’s good,” Taehyung laughs, a sound filled with just as much amusement as relief.

You still don’t move. He sighs.

“Looks like I’ll have to get you warmed up,” the amusement abruptly leaves his tone, replaced by an intense sultriness that leaves you confused. How’s he able to just switch it on so fast? Tilting his head so that he’s looking at you through half lidded eyes, Taehyung’s gaze suddenly gets darker as he slowly leans closer, tongue peeking out momentarily between his lips. “But I can help with the rest too.”

“O-okay,” your voice cracks as he presses the briefest, lightest kiss to the apple of your cheek.

“So, you got any kinks? Cuz I can dirty talk like a motherfucker. Not that I’ve… fucked any mothers. Shit, sorry, probably ruining the moment,” he muses, pressing another kiss to your jawline, then to the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

You’re not sure if it’s his wandering lips or the fact that Taehyung unwittingly just made a reference to your dream about him, but as he begins tonguing at your neck, some of the nervousness melts away to be replaced with misty pleasure.

“I mean, I haven’t really done much exploring in that arena,” you try to keep your composure, but with each open mouthed kiss against your skin, you’re finding it harder and harder to form coherent words.

“That’s alright,” he soothes, working his way slowly back up to your cheek. “How you feeling?”

“Better,” you admit, though still aren’t exactly sure what you should be doing at the moment. Do you touch him now? Should you kiss him back? As a reference social cues, you try to recall what happened when that guy fingered you (or tried to) at Jimin’s nineteenth birthday party, but you can’t seem to remember much except not orgasming and leaving the apartment shortly after.

Oh well. It seems like Taehyung knows what he’s doing and you’re kind of okay with letting him take the reins here.

“Great,” he growls playfully, placing a finger underneath your chin to tilt your face toward him. “Now the first thing we should do is get me hard.”

Again, your dream-self hadn’t lied. You’ve kissed Taehyung before, but the other times were drunk accidents or the result of rather cruel rounds of truth or dare that usually also involved alcohol.

Taehyung doesn’t give you much time to start questioning. His lips meet yours, soft, gentle. Your eyelids flutter closed.

God, it’s been so long since you’ve kissed someone sober.

Taehyung lets out a hum of appreciation, pulling back just enough to tell you, “I can see you’re still using that strawberry chapstick from last time.”

A memory. A new dress. Strawberry chapstick. Spilled beer. A slap. A drunk consolation kiss. So part of the seventeen percent of the party Taehyung claims to recall includes making out in the corner of the living room. You’ll have to talk to him about that later. Right now, you’re horny, you’re here to touch his dick, you’re mad about your fucking dress again, and you’re easily able to disguise the sudden anger as confidence.

“You ‘see?’ Or you taste? Pabo,” you laugh, taking the initiative and fisting the collar of his shirt to bring him forward.

This time, it isn’t just his lips, but his tongue, asking for entry. You’re ready to deny him just to be a tease, but as you shift to a more comfortable position and your hand lands directly on his warm, bare thigh, you take in a sharp breath of surprise. He takes the opportunity to unabashedly slip his tongue into your mouth.

Groaning in what’s clearly fake displeasure, you immediately fight back, pressing your wet pink muscle harshly against his. A laugh builds in Taehyung’s chest, but you swallow the noise, pushing him down so that his back presses into the mattress.

“Oo, someone’s a dom,” he winks as you attempt to situate yourself- though you’re finding it difficult when your main focus is to continue avoiding his manly bits. From what you can tell, because you’ve never actually seen a penis outside of a health book or occasional (you’ll admit) porn video, he’s only half hard.

How long does it take for a guy to get it up? You want to ask, but you’re also pretty sure that Taehyung would tell you if you’re doing something wrong.

“Shut up,” you shove him back down as he tries to prop himself up on his elbows. Your gaze momentarily travels to his crotch and your nerves get the better of you, making you sit with your weight resting on your heels, a very unstable position considering you’re on a mattress.

He shoots you a boxy grin, “What? Do you want me to touch you a little more? Get you in the mood?”

“Is that just a ploy to touch my boobs?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re disgusting,” you laugh, but the outburst relaxes you, which seems to be what he’s aiming for. “This isn’t about getting me off. I just want to know what it’s like to…”

And suddenly, the words are lost again, caught in your throat behind a lump of apprehension.

“You know, baby, it’s not gonna bite you,” Taehyung’s tone is soft, encouraging as he reaches down, taking his cock in his hand. “I mean, I might, if you’re into that kind of thing. But it definitely won’t.”

“Tae.”

He gives you a sympathetic smile, “And again, if you don’t want to-”

You cut him off by extending your hand, offering, “I’m gonna close my eyes. You do it.”

Darkness. The smell of him, musky pine. And the feeling of warmth as his larger hand envelops yours. It takes a second or two, blood rushing and pulse drumming in your ears- and fuck you hope you aren’t trembling as hard as you think you are- but then you feel Taehyung’s other hand. His thumbs press firmly into your palm, moving outward in a ghost of a massage until your fingers relax and he’s able to gently close your hand around what you can only assume is his cock.

And all you can think is: why is the skin so soft?*

“Your hand is so much better than mine,” Taehyung sighs, tightening his grip on your fist, in turn, tightening yours on his dick. “Okay, baby. Goal achieved. You touched it a little. If you want to back out, now’s the time.”

Your eyelids flutter open as he, maybe subconsciously, begins to drag your fist slowly toward the tip. How can he be getting pleasure from this? Doesn’t it hurt when there’s no lubrication? Well, maybe not hurt… but like… chafe? Yet he doesn’t hesitate to loosen his grip momentarily to pull both of your hands back down. Heat floods to the pit of your stomach as your brain finally catches up to what your eyes are seeing.

You’re touching Taehyung.

No, not just touching, you’re pleasuring him. The thought sends a strange mix of confusion, platonic revulsion, and pure exhilaration through your stomach in the form of frantic metaphorical butterflies.

“Baby, I need an answer please.”

Your attention travels to Taehyung’s face, his expression contorting in what looks like a mix of slight pain and bliss. He’s clearly trying to maintain eye contact, but is mostly failing.

You clear your throat, replying, “This- this is fine. Just don’t expect me to suck it or anything.”

“Nope. No expectations here,” he feels around almost blindly with his free hand, the one he’s not using to help you pump. It only takes him a few seconds to deftly find the bottle of lube in the top drawer of his nightstand. “Alright. I guess I better start- wah- being a good coach again.”

You snort at his faux smugness, earning you a breathy laugh.

“So because I’m assuming you’d rather not have your spit or mine all over your hand, and the whole point of this is to actually touch my dick,” he pauses to take in a shaky breath, letting his head roll back against the mattress before forcing himself to continue explaining. “A sock won’t work. So I’m using lube. It just makes it more pleasant for everyone.”

The gel feels cold against your skin, but with Tae’s hand around yours and the constant movement, the sensation doesn’t last long.

“Every guy will feel a little different,” Taehyung grunts, chewing on his lip, now unquestionably fully hard. He drops his free hand to start palming his balls. “And every guy gets off to different things- fuck- but maybe we can work on that next time.”

“Next time?” you tease, independently tightening your grip for a moment.

His reaction is immediate, a whimper leaving his lips.

“And who ever said I’d finish getting you off?”

Where is this confidence coming from? Weren’t you a hesitant mess earlier? Your core feels like a furnace and a pleasant tightness has wound its way into your stomach, likely devouring your good decision making skills. Maybe you are just too aroused to care anymore. But like hell you’ll let him touch you or worse, give him the satisfaction of watching you touch yourself.

“Now that’s just cruel,” Taehyung’s voice becomes humorously unsteady. “I let you touch my dick and you leave me with blue balls.”

“You can just jerk off again.”

“Touche.”

You watch curiously as his face contorts in pleasure and can’t help but feel accomplished that you are the one causing that expression. Kind of. He’s doing a lot of the work. The same lewd, wet sounds from earlier begin to permeate through the room, each one resonating within your core. Maybe you should let him touch you. After all, what’s the harm? You’re already getting him off. Again, kind of.

The thought of his fingers buried deep inside you- or even better, his tongue- makes you a little bit braver.

“I can do it by myself,” you offer as one of his legs naturally bends, foot planting on the mattress, muscles tensing.

“You sure?”

Instead of answering him verbally, you slip your hand from his, causing his eyes to widen in shock and confusion. But you only do this to change the angle of your grip, running your palm along the underside of his cock.

Images from watching him masturbate earlier flood back into your memory, the movements of his wrist and fingers.

“Is this okay?” you ask as you circle the pad of your thumb lightly over the head of his length, disturbing the pearl of precum.

“A little harder- yeah okay that’s good,” Taehyung glares at you, collecting himself as his thighs visibly tense. “You’re sure you haven’t given someone a hand job before?”

“Why would I lie about that?”

“Because you just wanted to see me-”

Your arm stills momentarily as you lean forward to pull down the collar of his tee shirt and press an open mouthed kiss against the base of his neck, the same place he had started massaging earlier. Maybe your estimation of five minutes had been a little too generous. Then again, he also surpassed Jungkook’s guess of two.

Taehyung’s dick twitches and his release spills all over his thighs and the exposed part of his stomach where the tee shirt had ridden up.

*“Damn it,” he lets out a long, shaky breath as you gently continue pumping him until he pulls away, likely from sensitivity. “That’s embarrassing. Usually I last longer than that. I promise.”

“Aw babe, that’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you tease as you sit back on your heels, not so subtly wiping your lube covered, penis-cooties infected hand on his already partially soiled shirt.

Taehyung scoots over slightly to reach into his nightstand drawer, pulling out wet wipes to start cleaning himself off. He hands one to you as well, voice more raspy than normal, “I just kept thinking of Friday… when you moaned my name in your sleep and I guess I blew my load-”

“What.”

It’s less of a question than the auditory equivalent of a deadpan.

He looks confused momentarily, but then a boxy smile slides onto his lips, “Oh yeah, I heard that. Sorry, baby. Couldn’t help it. Were you dreaming about me?”

He heard.

You can feel the heat of the blush run to the tips of your ears, “I can’t fucking believe-”

“Don’t be mad,” he sits up, still grinning, tossing the wet wipe aside. “It was hot.”

Your response locks in your throat as he, in a single swift movement, reaches up, fists the collar of your shirt, and drags you forward to press a kiss to your lips. You aren’t sure why, but this makes you relax immediately, like flipping a switch.

You are practically leaning over him now, which makes it easy for him to shift only slightly and whisper huskily in your ear, “I can get you off now… if you want.”

It’s undeniable that this whole affair has left your panties a sticky mess. Your body wants you to take up Taehyung’s offer and your mind can easy justify it, but for some reason, you hesitate.

He seems to notice this and abruptly pushes you down, hoisting himself over you, straddling your lap.

“How do you want it, baby?” he gives you a reassuring smile as he begins playing with the hem of your shirt, softened dick resting against your crotch. “Do you want to come around my fingers? Or… maybe my tongue?”

The thought of his mouth against your folds sends a blinding amount of arousal shooting through your veins and another flood of heat straight to your core. If there had been any hope of salvaging your panties, it is now gone.

You try to suppress a shiver that runs pleasantly up your spine. You fail.

“Baby wants me to eat her out, hmm?” Taehyung teases, clearly having seen your reaction. “I can totally do that.”

He crawls backwards, gently pushing your knees apart so he can sit between them. Why hadn’t you worn a skirt today? Why did you wear jeans? What if he thinks you look ugly? What if he thinks you taste bad? Why are you letting him do this?

He hooks his fingers in the band of your pants and you close your eyes tightly, biting back the anxious anticipation to focus on the excitement.

This is Taehyung. The same Taehyung who casually jokes about jerking off, loves pressing his face in your breasts, and has no shame. The same Taehyung you’ve been friends with for over a decade. The same fucking Taehyung that you know you can feel comfortable around no matter what because he’s one of your best and closest friends- but also because he’s horny as shit all the time.

He knows what he’s doing. You should trust him.

A small sigh escapes your lips as you feel the material of your jeans start to move down your hips. Your arms reflexively cross over your chest and face in a subconscious attempt to hide yourself.

Whether or not he noticed, you’ll never know.

An obnoxiously loud knock causes you to sit up and diverts Taehyung’s attention vaguely toward the front door. He pouts, “That would be Jungkookie.”

You groan, knowing whatever window of opportunity had been presented is now closed, “Can’t we just let him squat outside for a while?”

“Jimin would kill us.”

You swallow your retort, suddenly wondering if Taehyung knows why Jimin would kill both of you for leaving Jungkook outside. Had they talked? Had Jimin told him? Even if he came out to Tae, maybe he hadn’t said anything about his crush on the maknae. So you stay quiet on the subject.

“Still, babe,” you whine. “I… I’m…”

Taehyung shoots you a sympathetic smile, “We’ll take care of your problem in a little bit, okay? Just go let the kid inside.”

“Why can’t you-?”

With a pointed yet amused look, he gestures down to his partial nakedness and smeared shirt.

“Fine,” you grumble, rolling off of the bed and shuffling away, trying to keep your thighs together to hide any signs of arousal, but also trying to desperately give your frustrated body some relief. It’s not working.

Adjusting your pants, you unlock and open the door, revealing a rather disgruntled looking Jungkook. He glares, practically spitting, “Took you long enough.”

You’ve never wanted to punch him more than in that moment, but somehow, you magically manage to restrain yourself.

✩✩✩♔✩✩✩

EOPQ 14: New character, Yoongi. Thoughts?? AND/OR do you like the more realistic, less sensational smut?

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