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waitimcomingtoo · 1 year

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Joke Me Something Awful Just Like Kisses On The Necks of Best Friends

Pairing: Peter Parker x Best Friend!Reader

Synopsis: Peter deals with the aftermath of kissing his best friend

a/n: is it obvious I got dumped and rewatched new girl 😍😍

Masterlist

“can I come over”

Peter picked his phone off the floor of his fire escape to read the text from you. Peter frowned and got the sneaking suspicion that something was wrong but decided not to worry until he knew there was something to worry about.

“always :) come out the the fire escape when you get here” Peter texted you back.

Ten minutes later, you crawled through Peters window from inside his living room and took a seat next to him on his fire escape. Before you said anything, Peter could tell from the look on your face that you had been crying. His heart hurt to know something had made you cry and he grew determined to make you happy again.

“Hey, Parker.” You said in a quiet voice.

“Hey kid. What’s wrong?” Peter asked and reached over to put a hand on your back.

“What makes you think somethings wrong?” You smiled sarcastically and pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands.

“Probably the panda eyes you got going on.” Peter chuckled and used his thumb to wipe your the mascara that had pooled under your eyes. You gave him an woeful smile and wiped the rest of the mascara away with your sleeves.

“You know that guy I’ve been talking to?” You began. Peter felt white hot jealousy course through him as he was reminded that Brad Davis had asked for your number three months ago and you’d been talking to him ever since.

“Brad? Yeah. I know him.” Peter said without looking at you.

“Well, we had a date tonight after him flaking on me past few weeks. We’d been on a handful of dates at this point so I hoped this would be the one where he finally asked me to be his girlfriend.”

“Did he?”

“Nope. And I could tell he wasn’t going to ask about twenty minutes into the date. So I decided that if he wasn’t gonna ask me, I was gonna have to ask him. And you know what he said to me when I asked?”

“What did he say?”

“He told me the “date” I was so excited for and spent hours getting ready for wasn’t a date to him. In fact, I learned tonight that none of our “dates” were dates to him. He didn’t see them as that. He saw them as us hanging out or whatever.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.” Peter frowned. “I thought he liked you?”

“So did I. But he never did. He just liked the attention and the compliments and the praise I gave him. I never actually meant something to him. And I know that because he looked me in my eyes tonight and told me he didn’t want to be in a relationship because he didn’t see me romantically. But this whole time, I thought we already were in a relationship. I just thought we hadn’t labeled it yet. But no. We were on completely different pages and now I’ve wasted three months of my life that I can never get back. I just feel so stupid.” You said and started to break down. You covered your face with your hands and cried into them as Peter rubbed your back.

“You’re not stupid.” He assured you. “Brad is stupid.”

“No, I am.” You sniffled. “I can’t believe I gave him my first kiss. I can never get that back.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t even had my first kiss yet. Having one with a jerk is better than not having one at all, right?” Peter offered weakly. It stung him to learn that you had kissed another boy, but he knew he couldn’t be upset about that right now.

“You haven’t kissed anybody?” You asked and cracked a smile.

“Don’t look so happy.” Peter gasped and playfully shoved you. You covered your mouth with your hand to hide your smile while secretly feeling relieved that Peter hadn’t kissed anyone yet.

“I’m sorry. I think that’s sweet. You’re saving it.”

“Am I saving it? Or is it that no girl wants to kiss me?” Peter laughed wryly.

“That’s not true. Believe me, I wish I saved mine. It would’ve been way better with a boy who liked me.” You told him. You locked eyes for a minute and felt a magnetic force pulling you towards Peter. Your eyes dropped to his eyes but before anything could happen, he looked away. He didn’t want to, he just panicked.

“He’s an idiot. And you deserve better.” Peter said to avoid an awkward silence.

“Whatever that means.” You smiled sadly before resting your head on his shoulder. Peter rested his head on top of yours and you stayed that way for a while in comfortable silence. Knowing you were still upset, he brought up a story he hoped would make you laugh.

“You know, when I was little, I thought the first kiss always happens on the first date. Like, there is no other possible scenario where a first kiss would happen. And the first date had to be at a sit down restaurant at a table for two. It was the only situation that my mind could generate in which a kiss could happen. And I would lie awake at night and try to figure out how two people could kiss when there was table between them.”

“And the table absolutely has to be there?” You teased him.

“Of course it does. Because if it’s not there, that means they’re not on a date. And if there’s no date, there’s obviously no kiss.” He scoffed, making you smile again.

“Well I can see why this kept you up at night. There’s a lot to think ago it.”

“Uh huh. And that’s not all I laid awake at night thinking about. Because then I had to consider logistics. Like, when the kiss happen? Right as you sit down at the table or after you finish eating? Or just sometime during the date? And after they kissed, does that automatically mean they’re boyfriend and girlfriend? Or would one of them have to ask? It kept me up at night. It’s all very confusing.”

“It really is. And now it’s even worse. Because now, it’s not just dating. Now, there’s the talking stage. The talking stage didn’t exist when we were little and hopeful about love.”

“I know.” Peter agreed. “The only thing I knew about love back then was that the boy and the girl kiss at the end of the movie. I wish it was still that simple. It doesn’t make any sense anymore. Why is it that you can be dating someone but not in a relationship with them?”

“I can tell you why.” You smiled sarcastically. “Because not everyone wants to use the word “relationship”. Instead, they just kiss you and hold your hand and take you on dates and tell you they like you and treat you like their girlfriend but never actually call you their girlfriend. They never actually give you the satisfaction of admitting that you mean something to them. And you know what the worst part is? My entire view of myself has shifted meanwhile he is probably totally fine. He’s unscathed by this and I was maimed. I just feel so angry. I’m angry because it meant something to me and he ended it like it didn’t. How could he do that to me?”

“Maybe you can’t understand why he did this to you because you would never do this to another person.” Peter said, catching you by surprise. You looked at him and gave him a soft smile to let him know what his comfort meant to you.

“Yeah. Thanks, Pete. Thanks for listening.” You said and gave his hand a squeeze.

“I’m always here to listen. And I’m sorry he broke up with you.” Peter said as he rubbed small circles on your back.

“He didn’t though. Because he was never my boyfriend.” You laughed sadly. “We never got to define what we were because he didn’t want to. But I wanted to. My feelings had a name. He just wouldn’t let me speak it.”

You fell silent for a minute as you replayed all the times Brad had made it seem like he liked you in his head. You debated if you were crazy and imagined the whole thing or if Brad just couldn’t admit his true feelings. Your bottom lip began to tremble when you thought about how everything was going to change now and felt a tear slip down your face.

“I fear it’s all just fucking impossible.” You said quietly. Peter looked at you for a moment while you looked down at your hands. He wanted so badly to take your pain away, or to at least take your mind off what had happened.

“I’m just thinking out loud here. And it might be totally stupid and insane and a horrible idea.” Peter began.

“Say it.” You prompted out of curiosity.

“You said you wanted your first kiss to be with a boy who really likes you, right?”

“Yeah? So?”

“Well, I’m a boy who really likes you. And I haven’t had my first kiss yet. I think we have ourselves a real two birds with one stone scenario here.” Peter said, making you laugh. He smiled now that he had you laughing again and hoped he has succeeded in cheering you up.

“Peter Parker.” You playfully gasped. “Are you suggesting we kiss right now?”

“I might be. Think about it, you get a do over first kiss and I get an actual first kiss. Plus, we’re best friends so you’ll always remember your first kiss as being with someone special. And then we can just pretend it never happened. It’s a win win for both is us.”

“The offer is very tempting.” You said and tapped your chin.

“Right?” Peter laughed, happy that you were playing along.

“Oh my God. Remember that episode of ICarly where Sam tells everyone Freddie’s never kissed anyone and he gets bullied and then she reveals that she’s never kissed anyone either and then they kiss? It would be so Sam and Freddie of us if we kissed right now. We’re even on a fire escape like they were.”

“If I told you that’s where I got the idea from, would you be too cringed out to kiss me?” Peter asked sheepishly. You grabbed his shoulder as you broke down laughing, sending a blush to Peter entire face.

“No. I don’t think so. Honestly, it makes me want to kiss you more.” You said through a laugh that made Peters blush deepen.

“Okay cool. Come here then.” Peter said and put his hands on either side of your face. You both leaned in before pulling away laughing. You both knew it was just a joke, but you secretly both wanted it to happen more than anything else in the world. When your laughter died down, you looked at each other as a comfortable silence filled the air. A look of realization dawned on both your faces as it became clear to you that the other was down to really do it.

“We’re not actually gonna kiss, right?” Peter asked as his eyes fell to your lips.

“No. That would be way too weird. But thank you for the offer.” You smiled and leaned towards him.

“Anytime.” Peter said right before your lips connected.

You pulled away after just a few seconds and gave Peter a wide eyed look. He nodded to show that he was still into it and you immediately leaned back in. This time, he cupped your face as your hands wrapped your his wrists.

At first it felt weird and hesitant and you couldn’t stop thinking about how this was the guy you’d been calling your best friend all your life and had seen do a million embarrassing things.

Then it, it changed. This kiss became assured and confident and all you could think about was how you’d wanted this all your life.

The innocent kiss became heated quickly when you found yourself climbing into Peter’s lap while slid his hands up your back.

“Oh shit.” You whispered once you pulled away. You looked into each others eyes as Peters face turned so scarlet, it was maroon.

“How was that for a first kiss?” He whispered and tucked some hair behind your ear.

“I could say the same for you.” You smiled before leaning in to kiss him again. You only got to kiss for a few minutes before you heard Mays voice.

“Dinners ready.” She said, making you and Peter jump apart.

“God May!” Peter exclaimed. “Don’t you knock?”

“Knock on what? You’re outside.” May pointed out.

“The freaking windowpane! I don’t know!” Peter continued to shout while you covered your face in embarrassment.

“When you’re done sucking face, dinners on the table.” May smiled innocently before walking away. You and Peter couldn’t look at each other for a long time as the reality of what just happened settled in. You sat in a palpable awkward tension until you finally mustered up the courage to speak.

“We should probably…” Peter trailed off and pointed inside.

“Yeah. Let’s go.” You nodded and quickly got up.

The three of you sat at the dinning room table in complete and utter silence. You pushed your food around on your plate, too consumed in your thoughts to eat anything. You wished you had gotten chance to talk about the kiss and what it meant but that was impossible with May sitting there. Meanwhile, you and Peter kept making awkward eye contact across the table before quickly looking away.

“So what have you two been up to?” May asked, making your entire body cringe.

“May.” Peter whispered in disappointment.

“What? Just asking.” May played dumb.

“We were just having a chat.” You said weakly.

“Kinda hard to talk when your mouth is pressed against someone else’s mouth though, isn’t it?” May shrugged as you choked on your drink.

“May!” Peter exclaimed and covered his face.

“What? Am I not supposed to address it?” She asked. “I used to give you guys baths together. Then I walk into my own humble home and find you frenching on the fire escape.”

“May!” Peter squeaked as his entire face turned red.

“That was so Sam and Freddie of you.” May snorted.

“I know right?” You laughed as well and accidentally made eye contact with Peter. You quickly stopped laughing and looked away.

“So are you two a couple now?” May asked causally and took a bite of her food.

“May.” Peter said in a grave voice.

“No. That was our first kiss.” You said, making Peter look at you with wide eyes.

“Y/n!” He exclaimed.

“What? What am I supposed to say right now? Please tell me and I will say it. I am genuinely asking. This is the most confusing day of my life.” You whimpered and looked back down at your plate.

“Maybe we should just go back to silence.” May suggested and you both nodded in agreement. You ate the rest of your dinner without saying anything, thinking the hard part was over. After you put your dishes in the sink, you awkwardly stood in the kitchen and looked at Peter.

“What do we do now?” You whispered to him.

“I don’t know. What do we usually do when we hang out?”

“I have literally no idea. I don’t remember what we do.”

“You guys usually go to Peter’s room.” Mag said with an instigating smile.

“Oh. Right. Peters room.” You gulped and looked at Peter again. He gave you and shy smile and a weak wave.

“Would you like to go to Peters room?” He asked in a soft voice. You finally stopped feeling so awkward and let yourself relax.

“Would Peter be there?” You asked and cracked a smile.

“If you want him to be.” Peter answered.

“Okay. Let’s go.” You smiled and started walking towards his room.

Once you were inside, you shut Peters door behind you and leaned your back against it.

“Sooo…” Peter drew out the word and looked at you with puppy dog eyes.

“So.” You repeated and struggled not to look at his lips.

“What do you wanna do?” He asked and took a step towards you.

“I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. What do you want to do?” He repeated as he leaned over you.

“We could watch a movie?” You shrugged as you tilted your chin up towards his face.

“Yeah. We could. Or we could…” He trailed off and slipped an arm around your waist to pull you closer.

“Yeah. Or we could…” You trailed off as well as you nodded your head.

“Or we could…” He whispered before connecting your lips in a kiss. He pressed you against the door as his hands slipped up beneath your sweatshirt. You tangled your fingers in his curls, something that you always wanted to do, and gave them a tug.

“What is happening right now?” Peter asked against your lips.

“I have no idea.” You laughed against his mouth and went back to kissing him.

“Do you want it to stop?” He pulled away briefly to ask you.

“I never want it to stop.” You told him before bringing him right down into a kiss. Peter smiled against your lips before picking you up to carry you to his bed. He carefully laid you down on his Star Wars sheets without ever breaking the kiss. You made out on his bed for a while and lost all sense of time. Peter kissed your lips softly before trailing kisses down your neck. He didn’t do that for long because he didn’t want to stop kissing your lips. You felt butterflies in your chest as you kissed Peter, something you didn’t feel when you had kissed Brad. Peter felt the same warm excitement in as he tried to memorize the way your heart beat against his chest. The perfect kiss was only disrupted by the sound of your phone ringing. You and Peter jumped apart and he rolled off of you as you pulled your phone out.

“Shoot. Sorry. It’s my mom.” You sighed in annoyance when you looked at your phone.

“Oh my God. It’s 9 pm?” You shot up in bed when you realized the time. Your curfew was 8 pm and you were ten minutes from your apartment.

“Mommy?” You said in a weak voice when you answered the phone.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Peter heard your mother scream on the other end of the line. You scrambled out of Peters bed and went over to his mirror, leaving him with a feeling of disappointment.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how late it got. Peter and I were just…studying.” You lied as you smoothed your hair and rubbed off the rest of the lipstick Peter had smudged.

“I’m on my way home now. I swear.” You told your mom before hanging up. You gave your appearance one last look before turning to Peter. He was sitting up now with a pillow his lap and a yearning look in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked with his messed up hair, unbuttoned shirt, and budding hickies on his neck.

“I, uh, I gotta go now.” You said and pointed to his door. You couldn’t take your eyes off each other, each desperately wondering what the kiss had meant to the other. Peter nodded slowly but couldn’t mask his disappointment.

“I’ll walk you home?” He offered and got off his bed.

“Sure! Just uh…” You trailed off and gestured to your neck. Peter looked down and realized how many buttons you had managed to unbutton on his flannel. He blushed in embarrassment and quickly buttoned his shirt back up.

You and Peter walked to your apartment complex in total silence, hand accidentally bumping every now and then. Neither of you knew what to say and neither wanted to say the wrong thing, so you said nothing at all. The third time your hand bumped into Peters, he went to reach for it but you tucked it into your pocket. You reached your lobby eventually and turned to look at Peter.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You said and looked into his eyes. You desperately tried to read his expression but it was too dark to see anything.

“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He nodded, never taking his eyes off you. He stepped closer to kiss you goodbye, then took a step back. He didn’t know if that’s what you wanted and don’t want to impose. You noticed his hesitation so you stepped forward yourself and kissed his cheek.

“Night, Parker.”

“Night, kid.” He smiled softly. You disappeared and that was the last he saw of you.

All night, Peter tossed and turned his bed and he replayed the entire evening. He couldn’t stop smiling and pinching himself to see if he was really awake. As much as he hoped this meant you would finally be together, he didn’t want to get his hopes up. He didn’t know if the kiss was just a one time thing only happened because you were upset. He didn’t sleep all night in anticipation of seeing you the next day to find out where your relationship stood.

Peter focused his eyes on the passing crowd when he stood at his locker the next morning. Ned was telling him some story about a TV show he had watched but Peter couldn’t hear a word over how hard he was concentrating on finding you. He desperately wanted to tell Ned what had happened between you two, but he wanted to wait until he had discussed it with you first. Just when Peter had given up hope on finding you, he heard your voice behind him.

“Hey.” You said out of nowhere, making Peter jump out of his skin.

“AH!” He screamed. “Jesus Christ.”

“Sorry! Sorry. I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widened and you covered your mouth with your hands as you apologized.

“You scared me. Like a shadow you are.” Peter panted as he held a hand over his pounding heart.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to approach you.” You grimaced, knowing you had already blown it.

“Not like that.” Peter said out of the corner of his mouth.

“I’m sorry! Oh my God. I need to go.” You panicked and started to walk away.

“Kid, wait!” Peter called out and ran after you. You quickened your pace but he still caught up to you and gently grabbed your arm.

“Slow down. I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?” You asked and avoided making eye contact.

“Last night. And what happened.” He said in a quiet voice as his face blushed from the memory.

“I wanted to talk about that too.” You relaxed when you realized he wasn’t going to pretend it never happened like you feared he might.

“Good, good.” Peter smiled shyly. “So what does this mean-“

“Hey guys.” Ned appeared out of nowhere, cutting Peter off.

“AH!” You and Peter both screamed.

“Damn. What’s with you two?” Ned laughed in confusion.

“Nothing.” You and Peter said in unison.

“Real creepy vibe between you guys. Just so you know.” Ned said as his eyes shifted between you and Peter.

“I have to go.” You blurted and ran away.

“Wait! Don’t go!” Peter protested.

“Gotta blast!” You called from down the hall before disappearing behind a corner.

“Do I wanna know what that was about?” Ned asked Peter.

“I’m gonna tell you. I just have to talk to her first.” Peter assured his friend and went to try and find you. He didn’t have any classes with you before lunch and had no luck spotting you in the hallways. Finally, he smelled your perfume wafting in the air once he sat down at his usual lunch table. He turned around and smiled as you sat down beside him. Ned and MJ noticed the way you and Peter looked at each other and immediately felt that something was up.

“Hi.” You smiled flirtatiously at Peter as you set your lunch bag down.

“Hey, kid.” He smiled shyly in return. “Did you change your hair?”

“Yeah. I had to take a test so I put it up.” You said and touched your ponytail, feeling pleased that he had noticed the simple change.

“I like it. It looks pretty.” He complimented you.

“Oh, thanks.” You laughed shyly.

“It’s nice. You look good with your hair up.” He remarked and reached up to touch it. You both got flashbacks to the night before and made knowing eye contact. Ned and MJ exchanged a look as they watched the usual behavior in front of them play out.

“Do you want a baby carrot?” You offered to break the tension.

“Yeah. You want an Oreo?”

“Sure. Cheers?” You asked and held up the Oreo.

“Chin-chin.” Peter smiled and held up his carrot.

“Oh, uh. Neck neck?” You laughed in confused as you knocked your Oreo into his carrot.

“Chin-chin means cheers in Italian.” He explained to you when he saw you confusion.

“Really? I didn’t know that. You’re so smart. I feel like you know so many random little facts.” You complimented Peter and leaned on your hand to stare at him.

“I don’t really. You’re the smart one. You know way more than me.” Peter replied. You smiled in appreciation of his compliment and gave his arm a fond squeeze.

“What the hell?” Ned asked, breaking the lavender haze you and Peter had slipped into. You both looked at Ned, having completely forgotten that he was there.

“What?” Peter asked innocently.

“What…the…hell?” Ned repeated. You and Peter exchanged a nervous look before playing dumb.

“What’s wrong?” You shrugged and took another carrot from Peter.

“That my question. What wrong?”

“Ned, you’re dropping articles again.” Peter whispered.

“I not!” Ned exclaimed.

“Nothings wrong. Everyone calm down.” You mumbled in embarrassment.

“No. Something is definitely going on between you two.” MJ jumped in in agreement.

“Hardly anything is going on.” Peter said, making you look at him angrily.

“Hardly anything?” You whispered harshly.

“You know when I lie I get a stummy ache.” Peter mumbled to you. You immediately felt bad and put a hand on his face.

“All right. Not that I particularly care about any of you, but I enjoy drama. What happened between you two that’s making you act so weird?” MJ inquired.

“Nothing.” You repeated. “Nothing happened.”

“Uh huh. Sure. And Peter, could you confirm that for me?” MJ asked and turned her attention to Peter. Peter looked between you and MJ in a panic before coming clean.

“A lil sum sum happened.” He mumbled, almost inaudibly.

“Peter. Why would you tell them that?” You groaned and covered your face.

“He didn’t have to tell us anything.” Ned stated. “You think we couldn’t tell from the moment you sat down? You think we can’t smell it on you?”

“Fine. You really want to know what happened? We kissed. That’s all. Y/n and I kissed.” Peter said in the most nonchalant tone he could manage at this time. You held your breath and waited for your friends reactions as their jaws dropped simultaneously.

“You kissed?” MJ asked.

“On the mouth?” Ned add.

“A bunch of times.” Peter nodded proudly as you hide your face again.

“Oh my God.” You mumbled.

“When did this happen?” MJ a questioned.

“None of your business.” You said at the same time Peter said “Last night on my fire escape.”

“On your fire escape? Like Sam and Freddie?” Ned asked.

“Exactly!” Peter nodded in excitement while your face palmed. Peter noticed your reaction and felt bad for letting that slip.

“I’m sorry.” Peter apologized and rubbed your back. “I didn’t mean for them to find out right away. I wanted to discuss this with you before we told them.”

“I know. Me too. But I guess the cat is out of the bag now.” You sighed and looked at Ned and MJ, who were still sitting in stunned silence.

“So you two hooked up? In May’s humble home? In her good Christian household?” Ned gasped and pointed between the two of you.

“First of all, I’m Jewish. And second, we didn’t hook up. We just made out a little.” Peter said and tried to make it sound like it wasn’t as big of a deal as he felt it was.

“You made out?” MJ laughed in surprise.

“You’re Jewish?” Ned whispered in an equal amount of surprise.

“Yes and Yes.” Peter nodded proudly. He snuck a look at you to see how you were reacting to all of this and you looked like you had just seen a ghost.

“I’m flummoxed. I’m absolutely flummoxed by this. My my my. I feel I might faint.” Ned said and fanned himself.

“I mean, I definitely saw this coming.” MJ shrugged and went back to reading her book.

“Wait, so are you two a couple now?” Ned asked, making you and Peter freeze. You looked at each other and struggled to come up with an answer since you never got a chance to talk about what last night had meant. You both started to say sentences that didn’t really seem to go anywhere.

“I mean, we didn’t really get a chance to-“ Peter began.

“-it only happened last night so we haven’t-“ You added.

“There’s still a lot we need to talk about but, um…” Peter looked at you and hoped you’d finished his sentence for him so he could know what page you were on.

“Yes?” Peter said at the same time you said, “No?”

Peters face immediately crumbled as you slapped a hand over your mouth.

“Oh my God. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-“

“No, no, it’s fine.” Peter cut you off. “I didn’t mean to answer so quickly.”

“I don’t even know what we are. I didn’t-“

“It’s okay. We haven’t talked about it yet, so.” Peter smile sadly at you before looking down at his lap. The guilt over giving the wrong answer was killing you and you needed to remove yourself from the situation.

“I have to go.” You said and got out of your seat.

“Please don’t go.” Peter asked and took your hand.

“Gotta blast.” You pulled your hand out of his and ran out of the cafeteria.

“Damn it. She keeps blasting off when I try to talk to her about our relationship.” Peter grumbled.

“Don’t ever say she’s blasting off ever again.” MJ grimaced.

“But you saw that right? I tried to talk to her about us and she blasted.”

“Please. I’m begging you. Stop saying it.”

“You just have to get her at a time where she can’t blast.” Ned suggested.

“You too?” MJ cringed.

“What am I supposed to do?” Peter asked desperately.

“Well what do you want to do? Do you want to be her boyfriend?” Ned asked him.

“Yeah. I do. Of course I do.” Peter smiled softly.

“Then tell her that.” Ned urged.

“No.” MJ spoke up.

“No?” Peter frowned.

“Don’t tell her. Show her.”

“Show her? What do you mean?”

“Last night, she told me about Brad before she went to your place. You know, before your little fondling party happened. Anyway, she told me that what hurt her the most is that Brad could never admit how he felt about her. He was always playing games and leaving her guessing about how he felt. So if you want to be with her, you gotta do the opposite. Show her that you like her and you’re not afraid to admit that to anyone.”

“What if she doesn’t feel the same?” Peter worried. “What if she doesn’t want me to show her how I feel?”

“She does.” MJ insisted. “I know she does.”

“How do you know that?” Peter furrowed his eyebrows. MJ sighed before deciding that if this was gonna be solved, she had to tell Peter your greatest secret.

“Because I was the one who had to convince her to give Brad a chance in the first place since she was still hung up on you.” MJ admitted. Peters eyebrows raised in surprise before a smile tugged at his lips.

“She was?” He asked in disbelief.

“She likes you, dude. But she never knew how you felt. Nows your time to tell her.” MJ told him. Peters smile grew as he realized what he had to do. Now that he knew how you felt, he felt confident enough to seal the deal.

“Not that I care.” MJ added after a beat of silence.

“Thanks MJ. I’m gonna go show her how I feel.” Peter said and got up to leave.

Meanwhile, you were standing by your locker and trying to remain calm. You were freaking out thinking you had just ruined your relationship with your best friend forever. You shut your locket and leaned your forehead against it, cursing yourself for messing everything with Peter up.

“So. You and Parker, huh?”

You turned around and saw Brad standing behind you with a disappointed look on his face. You thought you’d feel sad to see him, but you just felt annoyed that he was talking to you.

“What? How do you even know about that?” You asked when you realized what he said.

“I heard you and your friends talking about it at lunch.” Brad replied. You opened your mouth to tell him to mind his business, then decided to give him some of his own medicine.

“Yeah. Me and Parker. What about it?” You asked and folded your arms.

“Nothing. Just wasn’t expecting you to move on so fast.”

“Move on from what?” You asked him, making his face drop.

“From…from me.” He said quietly.

“From you? Oh my God, did you think we were dating?” You laughed in his face. Brad’s jaw tightened and you could see his hands ball into fists.

“Yeah but we were talking for three months. And we went on dates and stuff.” He reminded you.

“Dude, we were just friends. Sorry if you got confused.” You laughed again and rolled your eyes a little.

“Oh. Yeah. That’s cool.” Brad nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Peter was watching this interaction from down the hallway with a proud smile. You had made Brad feel as badly as he made you feel and it couldn’t feel better. Peter let you have your moment before joining your side.

“Hey.” He smiled at you and wrapped an arm around you.

“Hey.” You smiled in return and leaned into him. Brad watched the two of you and felt a twinge of jealousy in his chest. Peter sensed like and looked at him as if he was just now noticing he was there.

“Oh, hey Bart. What are you doing by Y/n’s locker?” Peter smiled innocently. You turned your face to the side to hide your laughter as Peter purposefully called Brad the wrong name.

“It’s Brad.” Brad said, his annoyance evident in his voice.

“Is this guy bothering you?” Peter whispered to you but purposefully did it loud enough for Brad to hear.

“This guy? You know my name.” Brad scoffed.

“No. Sorry. I don’t.” Peter played dumb, making you chuckle as you leaned into him.

“I literally just told you.” Brad snapped. “It’s Brad. Brad Davis? ring a bell?”

“Bread? Bread Davis?” Peter asked and cupped his hand behind his ear.

“Brad.” Brad repeated and emphasized the “d”.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Braz David. Just to circle back, what were you doing by my girlfriends locker?” Peter asked. You raised your eyebrows in surprise when you heard what Peter called you but warmly accepted it. This caught the attention of students passing by which made Brads face heat up in embarrassment and anger.

“Nothing. I wasn’t doing anything.” Brad mumbled and averted his eyes. He looked around at the people snickered and whispering about him and shrunk into himself.

“Cool. Bye then.” Peter smiled wildly and waved goodbye. Brad rolled his eyes and gave you one last look before walking away. As soon as he was gone, you turned to Peter with an excited smile.

“That was so good! We totally got him back for what he did to me!” You whispered in excitement.

“That was all you. I just put the final nail in the coffin.” Peter smiled shyly.

“I heard. So, girlfriend, huh?” You smiled coyly and wiggled your eyebrows at him.

“Yeah. If you want.” He in a way that was confident to show you how much he wanted you but still allowed you to turn him down.

“I do want. And not just because it would be super embarrassing for you if I didn’t want to after you so loudly called me your girlfriend in front of all these people.“ You smiled teasingly and gestured to the hallway full of students.

“Well thanks for sparing me the embarrassment, kid.” Peter said as he took your chin between his fingers.

“Anytime, Parker.” You chuckled before closing the space between you to kiss him.

Tag List 🏷️

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor @tom-hollands-wifey @20fandomfangirl

@lavender-writer @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @mara-twins

@maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @flixndchill @sovereignparker

@every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild

@canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah

@seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @horanxholland

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff

@maybemona @alexxcorona113

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x best friend!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fluff #peter parker fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction

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tightjeansjavi · 3 months

Text

party trick

A/N: this silly little fic is directly inspired by this hilarious post by @pedge-page 😝 this fic is meant to be silly, a little unrealistic, and fun! If that ain’t your thing, no worries! Just scroll on by, gem. Also, big thanks to @itsokbbygrl for betaing and @morallyinept for encouraging me with my shenanigans! hehe.

~word count: 1.9k~

Summary: your boyfriend Dieter wants to show you his new party trick that he learned from a pornstar named Ezra

Pairing | Dieter Bravo x pornstar!Ezra x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, smut, established relationship, mentions of drugs and eating, dieter and the reader are openly bi, implied open relationship (not described) Ezra is a bi male pornstar (definition of bi panic) (very light dubious consent as reader and dieter smoke before fucking but it is not described) male masturbation, self sucking??, reader is able bodied with no physical descriptions, readers nickname is gumdrop, no age gap, +18, minors dni!

Your first date with the ever-so eccentric, Dieter Bravo, was a success! Sure, he was a bit clumsy, and maybe even a bit of a blubbering idiot, but you had an incredible time. Did you kiss? Well—maybe! There’s a tell-tale sign when he admires the color of your lipstick against the heart shaped patch in his beard.

After that first date, he washes his face, but is careful to not remove the residue of your lipstick. Not even a week goes by and he’s asking you out on a second date.

Two dates turns to ten and somewhere down the line…you’re Dieter Bravo’s girlfriend, and you couldn’t be happier. (And neither could he)

Dieters plan for the evening was to throw a party with some of his friends: not necessarily a rager, per se, just an intimate get-together. Pop a few bottles, skinny dip in his inground pool, and dance under the California night sky.

He canceled his plans last minute because the only person he wanted to spend his evening with was you, his gumdrop.

Hiya, gumdrop baby! 💗

Dee! Hey, baby boy 🥰 having fun at your party?

He cheeses a smile down at his phone, dimples on display, fingers typing fast on the tiny screen, little tap tap taps echoing through the cooling evening air.

Good golly, I’m blushing 🤭 actually…I canceled the party! Just wasn’t feeling the vibes for it! Wanna come over?

Yes! I’d love to! I was just about to order some takeout. Want me to pick something up on the way?

Yes! How about veggie grill? I was just about to smoke, want me to wait up for ya? Oh! Also, I got something I wanna show you later 😉

Being in a relationship with Dieter meant that nothing he could possibly say or do surprised you anymore, but his vibrance, care-free, goofy, eccentric attitude, made him even more attractive to you. That and the fact that he was the literal definition of a trash panda. Your trash panda specifically.

Sounds good to me! 💗 did you want your usual or something different? You don’t have to wait for me, Dee! I’ll have some when I come over. Oh? What is it that you want to show me? 👀

Okie doke! Hey, how about you just order the whole menu? My treat! See ya soon, gumdrop xx. And you’ll see! It’s a surprise. Hehe.

God, Bravo. You sure know how to spoil a gal rotten! Looking forward to the surprise!

He hearted your messages before he reached behind his ear and grabbed his perfectly rolled joint and reached for his lighter that was resting on the table next to the poolside chair he was spread out on.

He couldn’t wait to see you and show you his new party trick.

Hours earlier in the day, Dieter found himself in his bed, boxers discarded on the floor and his fist languidly wrapped around his half-hard cock.

His freehand was scrolling through Pornhub, trying to find something to get off to. Usually it didn’t take him very long to settle on a video, but today he was finding it to be a bit of an annoying struggle.

He scrolled and scrolled till he stumbled upon something he had never seen before, self sucking?

He spit into his palm, using his saliva as a natural lubricant because he was too lazy to reach across his nightstand to grab his favorite bottle of lotion (ain’t nobody got time for that!).

Holy shit! He’s sucking himself off??

Christ, his cock is taking up the entire screen!

Dieter's private thoughts ran rabid as he watched the pornstar, Ezra, easily bend over and suck the head of his cock (which was massive, by the way) into his mouth.

“Holy fuck! How is that even possible?!” Dieter announced in disbelief.

He paused the video, and went to Ezra’s page and scrolled till he found the contact button and a direct link to Ezra’s instagram. He sent him a message:

Hey! I hope this doesn’t come off as weird or creepy (feel free to ignore) but I watched one of your videos just now…the self sucking one and DUDE, nice cock! How the hell do I do that? 🫣

Ezra responds seconds later after hearting the message,

HOLY SHIT! THEE DIETER BRAVO GOT OFF TO MY COCK? 🥵 (sorry, huge fan!) anyway, gem, I’d be happy to show you the art of self sucking, and then you too can be a pro like me. xx

Dudeee you’re a fan of me?? I’m blushing! 😉 okay, okay, I have to ask…is it all natural?

I am, indeed! You have quite the eccentric presence, gem. Oh, it’s natural alright. The gods have certainly laid their blessing upon my loins x.

Ohhh, I get it! You’re like Shakespeare? 🤣 damn, you sure know how to swing that thing around! Anyway, I will take you up on that offer! Here’s my number:

Lawl. You’re a funny one huh, gem? I suppose I am a bit like Shakespeare both with my verbiage, and my cock. You free right now?

The funniest guy around! Well, Romeo, got my cock out and everything, let’s boogie?

Boogie we shall.

And so that’s how Dieter ended up FaceTiming with Ezra: who coincidentally, also had his cock out.

“Not to be a total massive fucking flirt, but you’re gorgeous, and my girlfriend would probably eat you right up!” Dieter preened, leaning in close so he could get a better look at Ezra’s third limb, er, cock.

“Oh?” Ezra smirks, “would she now? Well, gem, perhaps the three of us should get together sometime?”

“Yes! You can be like the skunk to my raccoon!” Dieter said with a giggle.

“I beg your finest pardon? Your—what?”

“Oh! Sorry, sorry. Probably should have provided some context, huh?” Dieter blushes.

“Naturally, gem. Go on.” Ezra sits back on his elbows, listening,

“So, my girlfriend calls me a trash panda! It’s endearing, really. And well, you got that blonde streak in your hair…so you can be the skunk?”

Ezra chuckles in pure amusement, eyebrows raising, heavy cock bobbing between his thighs.

“A skunk, huh? You’re lucky I think you’re cute, gem.”

Dieter fanned his face like the little slut that he was, and giggling, “You think I’m cute?”

“Cute as a button, gem. Now, let’s see what we’re working with so that you can show your girlfriend what I taught you.”

“Yes sir.”

Ezra is a wonderful teacher and by the end of it, Dieter is almost able to suck the head of his cock into his mouth. There’s a slight strain in his lower back, but fuck it! You only live once.

“Well, gem, I think you just have to remember to relax your muscles. Pretend you’re floating on a babbling brook, or napping on a fluffy cloud, and then you’ll be sucking yourself off in no time. I gotta run, but let me know how it goes!”

“Ahh! Okay, I think I can manage that! Thanks for all the help, Ezra.”

“Anytime, gem. Anytime.”

After passing the joint back and forth together, fucking (a few times) and devouring the veggie grill you brought over, Dieter brings you upstairs to his bedroom, nearly stumbling over his two feet because he’s so excited to show you his new party trick!

“Sit that cute ass on the bed, gumdrop.” He’s not being domineering at all, quite the opposite actually.

You’re both naked, naturally because in Dieter’s home, clothes are always optional!

You wrap your arms around him from behind, kissing his jawline, pecking at the heart patch in his beard. “Are you gonna show me the surprise now, Dieter?”

He leans back into your embrace with a pleasant sigh, “Yes, gumdrop. But c’mon, bed. Now.”

You press one last kiss to his face before detaching yourself from around him, walking over to the bed and plopping down with a soft, oof.

He joins you moments later, laying on his elbow facing you while you reach across and card your fingers through the soft curly hairs on his chest.

“So I was watching this porno earlier, right? I did a deep scroll, and stumbled across this video of this dude…with literally the biggest fucking cock that my two eyes have ever seen!” He speaks animatedly, throwing his hands up as he leans in.

“It literally took up the entire fucking screen, gumdrop! Anyway, that wasn’t the craziest part! His cock was so big, and long, that the motherfucker was able to suck himself off! Dude barely even had to bend over, just popped that sucker right in and got to suckin’!”

You twirl a strand of his chest hair between your fingers, giggling as you listen to his dramatic retelling of the massive cock he saw.

“Shit, it really took up the whole screen? That’s insane, Dee!”

“YEAH! Like…the guy was packing a literal BAZOOKA down there!” He chuckles, leaning in so he can nuzzle his face against yours.

“Anyway, I found the guy's instagram and sent him a message because I thought to myself, ‘Damn! Imagine if I could also suck my own cock?’”

“Let me guess, you asked this pornstar fellow how you can suck your own cock like him?”

“Yes! How did you know?” He chuckled and stole a quick kiss, melting against you like the soft man that he was.

“Lucky guess?” You tease, dragging your finger down lower, skating it across one of his nipples. “So, was it a success? Did he teach you how to properly suck your own cock, Dee?”

“Well, I was actually able to barely get the tip in my mouth! Wanna see, gumdrop? S’gonna be my new party trick!”

“Show me, Dee.” You giggle, encouraging him as he quickly sits up, remembering how Ezra told him the way to curve his spine, and relax his muscles so that he can bend over just enough—

Dieter is hunched over, using one hand to hold the base of his cock, and the other is resting against his lower back for support. He’s so fucking close to wrapping his lips around the head of his cock when–pinch!

He yelps in surprise, immediately rolling over and yowling like a cat.

Ow. Ow. Ow! Fuck! Fuck me! Ow!

You're at his side in an instant, comforting him and reaching for your phone to either call 911, or look up an immediate remedy for his pain.

“Fucking pulled a goddamn muscle!” He whimpers, burying his face into your chest.

“Dee, it’s okay! You’re not dying, baby. Okay? Look! Google says that we have to treat the area with ice and then a heating pad!”

“I’M DYING, GUMDROP! I SEE THE LIGHT!” Your boyfriend dramatically groans, “I'M FADING FAST!”

After icing Dieter’s lower back for a good hour or so, you placed a heating pad against the sore spot while spooning him for extra body heat.

He was typing a message to Ezra, a deep frown set between his eyebrows because he really just wanted to know what it was like to suck himself off! (Who wouldn’t)

Hey, Ez. I pulled a fucking muscle in my back!

☹ gf is spooning me with a heating pad now, but I was really hoping that I would be able to suck myself off!

From Ezra: (Shakespeare-BAZOOKA 🍆)

Aw, I’m terribly broken to hear that, gem. Better luck next time, Birdie!

The next time Dieter announced to you that he wanted to try and suck his cock again, you came prepared with two yoga mats and a beginner yoga flow video (thrifted, of course).

He gives you a funny look as you set the yoga mats down in the sunroom.

“What?” You laugh, placing your hands on your hips. “It would be a cool party trick, Dee! Just gotta get you a little more flexible and bendy before we try again.”

Ohhh. He grins, dimples peeking out, “Well, let’s yogi, gumdrop.”

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k-nayee · 2 months

Text

Growing Pains

wc: 4.7k a/n: just know this was written YEARS ago when I was dealing with insecurity issues and such💀 I promise my writing ain't as dramatic as this

⚠𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆⚠: Eating Disorder topics such as Anorexia will be mentioned/insinuated. To those that may find this triggering, please skip to the next chapter or read with caution

Dreamer M.List

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

′𝐈 have to do this′

′I NEED to be perfect...'

Staring at the food spread across the table, I muster a smile as a plate is handed to me. Yet once I'm alone, it ends up in the trash, unseen.

'...and I'll do whatever it takes for it to happen.′

I ignore the low growls and take a sip from a water bottle, finding comfort in the temporary fullness it does to my empty stomach.

"All right guys! We gotta do some warm-ups to get our muscles ready: Arm circles, leg stretches, high knees to complete before we dive into the regular twelve count of squats and jumping jacks with five laps to wrap it all up!" The instructor's upbeat and encouraging voice cuts through the air. "And then we can start with today's dance!"

Groans of protest bubble around me, but they do the tasks anyway in order to avoid getting scolded.

I breeze through the majority of activities with ease. It wasn't until when those all-too-familiar black spots forming at the edge of my vision did I become wary.

Luckily, I managed to get rid of them or at least slow the process by slowing down my pace.

"Hey, you okay?" The worry in his tone interrupts my focus.

Offering another smile, I dismiss my body's weaking state. "I'm f-fine."

Not a moment later my legs suddenly gives out.

A pair of hands catches me in time and look into my exhausted eyes.

"Hey, I think you need to lay down. You don't look too good. Have you eaten lunch yet?"

Their worry tugs at my heart; the reflection of my gaunt face in their eyes feels like a dunk of cold water.

′Maybe this isn't right...I...I should stop.′

I almost confess—about starving myself for weeks. Hoping to get small and beautiful enough, to get what everyone told me I'm the opposite of. Th-

"Come on now! I know we joke you act like a Panda, but I didn't think you'd get tired that fast! Maybe it's time you stop eating like them before you start to really look like one!" Someone calls out, laughs echoing around.

The vulnerable expression I once had hardens into a cold, emotionless mask.

′No. I can't give up now...not when they all still see me as fat. I can't continue to embarrass them anymore.′

"Hey ignore them, they're just playing. But seriously though, you should lay down and eat something. It looks like you've been starving yourself or something...have you?"

The handsome male's concern is met with my cold glare.

"Leave me alone. You never cared then, so don't now!" I break from his hold with a sneer and start back running.

The black spots returns with a vengeance, but they only push me to go even faster. A twisted motivation if you will.

After an agonizing ten minutes, I complete the laps with nods and pats of approval for being one of the first.

My body screams for rest so I sluggishly make my way towards the seats.

Each step is heavier than the last, the world blurring into a bright haze as the sounds around fade into the distance.

′Just a bit further...′

But my body can't go anymore.

With one final step, I collapse onto the floor.

The sickening sound of my head hitting the ground causes everyone to go silent in shock as a shockwave of pain zipped through my skull.

I feel a wet warmth slowly seep against my head causing my hair to go damp.

A panicked voice cuts through the haze. "O-oh my god! Somebody help! T-there's blood!"

"Call the ambulance!"

Hands cradle my face as a light flashes into my eyes. I don't feel my pupils reacting properly.

"Hey hey, look at me. Are you alright? Just focus on me."

I open my mouth, but no words come out.

"Don't talk, conserve your energy. Help is coming," a soothing voice promises, but my consciousness is slipping away.

With the last of my strength, I want to scream, admit that I was wrong. That I should've said something.

But only a whisper escapes.

"H-h..."

My eyes roll back as darkness surrounds my vision.

I gladly accept and let it take me into its welcoming grasp with two words that I wanted to say before I'm all the way gone...

Help me.

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

It was a regular day at the band's dorm.

Jungkook was currently teaching Jin how to play a racing game after the elder had continuously begged him to.

"Press the left button."

"Left?"

"No, just flip the controller and it'll run on its own—of course the left button!"

Jin shoots him a glare. "Well damn! Actin' like it's easy for me to adjust to these types of controls like you do, oh so great Golden Maknae. Maybe tone done the arrogance a little yeah?"

Jungkook could only scoff in response with an eye roll. "Honestly, after being taught the instructions for thirty minutes straight, you'd think you'd at least know how to make the car move. But then again, if it doesn't involve food, you're pretty much stupid."

Jin's eyes widened, a mix of shock and indignation flashing across his face. "You little shi—"

"Guys we have to go now!" Their playful squabble is abruptly cut short by a frantic, wide-eyed breathless Taehyung with a grave Namjoon silently in tow.

"Now what is it-oh, my god! What happened?!"

The vocal duo's facade of annoyance immediately drops upon taking in the usually tanned male's pale visage.

Taehyung opens his mouth to say something, but his emotions get the best of him rendering him speechless and teary eyed.

Namjoon quickly wraps an arm around the idol in silent support while Jin exchanges a worried and confused glance with Jungkook.

"What happened, Namjoon? Is everything okay?" Jin asks the leader in concern, leaving the forgotten game behind in favor of embracing a trembling Taehyung.

Namjoon releases a shaky breath, the tension in the room palpable. The sound of the front door slammed echoes into the heavy silence.

"What was that?" Jungkook questions as he grabs his jacket and hat after turning off the TV, ready to spring into action

"That was Yoongi."

Tired of the useless clues and wanting to get straight to the point, Jin presses. "Okay...and why did he leave in such a hurry?"

"It's Jimin...he's in the hospital."

"We have to hurry up!" Yoongi's voice is thick with urgency, his leg bouncing uncontrollably as dread twists his stomach the closer they get to the given location.

"Calm down Yoongi, everything's going to be alright" Jin sends the tense male a small smile while trying to keep his own distress from showing.

The rapper isn't easily soothed. "That's easy for you to say! You wasn't the fucking one to hear Hoseok's voice over the phone—panicked, scared..."

"Okay, but—"

His words are cut off as they pull up to the hospital. Yoongi doesn't even wait for the car to fully stop before he bolts out the door.

Jin lets out a sigh of resignation before slowly unbuckling his seatbelt. "Come on, let's go."

"Where is he?!" The moment he's near the reception desk, any and all thought of concealing his identity from public's eye is forgotten.

The nurse, unflustered by his panic, maintains her composure. "Sir, you need to calm down and take a seat. We're—"

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down! I am not in the mood to listen to whatever useless bullshit you wanna say unless it has something to do with Jimin," Yoongi interrupts with a sharp glare, his tone bordering on hostile.

The nurse says nothing at first, only staring at him with a blank expression before a low and slow sigh escapes her.

"First of all, I work damn near eighteen hours a day getting piss, vomit, and maybe even shit on me. And I'm also forced to have a smile on my face when assholes like you come up and order me around as if I work for them. I am my own person, and I should not-no, WILL not let some pale ass skinny idol come and boss me around. So sit your ass down in the chair!" She snaps causing Yoongi's eyes to widen in shock before quickly doing what she says.

The woman shift her gaze towards the frozen onlookers who witnessed the whole scene with wide eyes.

An arched brow was all it took for them to follow along and scramble to the seats to avoid her wrath.

Satisfied with their obedience, her stern expression melts into a warm, beautiful smile that seems to make the band's hearts as she step closer.

"Now that we're all on the same page...hello! I will be at your service today. Kingly fill out this form for any future visits." she said, voice a blend of authority and welcome.

A moment of silence pass before Jin breaks out of his daze and accept the clipboard from her.

"Um, w-we were told by one of our bandmates -Jung Hoseok- there has been an altercation with another bandmate -Park Jimin," he says nudging his head towards a silent Yoongi. "That's why we rushed, hence his behavior and actions."

"Well, I was going to tell you that the room you're looking for is number 256. Your friend Mr. Jung Hoseok already notified us you all were on the way. But I couldn't explain that due to a rude interruption," she states, giving a pointed look to Yoongi, who suddenly found the dirt at the bottom of his shoe the most interesting thing ever.

Namjoon stepped in, smoothing over the tension. "And for that, I give you his sincerest apologies. I can assure you he's normally more considerate, right Yoongi?"

Chastened, the guilty male bashfully nods and offers a quiet apology just as the nurse's phone started to ring, demanding her attention.

"Hello? Oh, Oppa!~" Her smile doubles in brightness, the group watching her becoming so captivated with the woman's sudden butterfly-like personality that no one noticed a male creeping into the building.

"Have you eaten today?" Whatever that is said on the other line causes her to pause with a gasp of shock. "No?! You need to take better careful of yourself and health. I can't have you walking around with an empty stomach...What?"

Her scolding morphs into confusion. "You can't dine with me if you're busy with rehearsals...You're not? T-then where are you?...Turn around?"

With hesitant moves, she follow his request only for her eyes to brim with tears at what—or who—awaited her.

Curious for the reason of her sudden emotion, the group's attention diverts to a handsome male causing their eyes to widen.

"Holy shit!" Taehyung's mouth drops at the sight of the very familiar face before him, "Her Oppa is—"

"Impossible...i-it can't be. You're supposed to be all the way across the world doing your tour right now," she softly says before quickly running into the open arms of Byun Baekhyun. [Hehe, Get it? Because EXO did a cover of 'Open arms'?...No?...Okay Imma stop]

"The fuck? Baekhyun is her boyfriend?! Where? When? Why? Shit better yet, how?" Jungkook bitterly questions as he watches the heartwarming scene happening before him.

"Now now, let's not jump to conclusions. Maybe he's a brother or family member. She did call him 'Oppa' after all," Jin weakly says knowing that his theory was a stretch.

Even so, the small part of him that hoped for it to be tr—nevermind...they're kissing.

"You were saying Jin?" Taehyung mumbles with a sad pout, voicing out the same the others felt regardless of just meeting the woman that same day.

"Quite a beautiful looking couple, am I right?" Jin releases a startled yelp at the unexpected voice as it cuts through the dejected air.

Turning from the two lovebirds, they're met with a man in a white lab coat casually checking the charts on his clipboard. "And a little word of advice: he's quiet possessive of her, so I wouldn't try anything if I were you..."

"..."

"Oh, where are my manners! My name is Dr. Choi, I'm the assigned doctor of your bandmate Park Jimin." Dr. Choi introduces himself with a sweet smile, continuing to review the charts at hand.

"Wait. So...so that's her...boyfriend?" Jungkook gasps in disbelief, barely latching on to anything but the word 'couple' in the doctor's previous statement.

"Fiancé actually. I believe you're all acquainted with him and his group? Um...it's EXO...yeah that's the name. Baekhyun here has been working with his idol group while she decided to go to a college that's close to the hospital. Despite how hectic both of their schedules are, they remained together. Just recently got engaged after deciding to get married once she graduates and gets her degree. Anyway back to your friend, Mr. Park...He's been asking for you. So if you would please follow me." Finishing those final words, Dr. Choi pivots and briskly strut down the hallway.

Alerted, Yoongi quickly rise from his seat and follow with the others in tow.

"Jimin!" A chorus of voices shouts as they burst through the door, startling the oldest maknae from his TV watching.

"Oh~ Hi guys~" Jimin sings out in happiness as he continues to consume the chocolate pudding in front of him.

The room goes silent for a moment as the newly entered group analyzed him with confused gazes.

"Um...w-what's this?" Jungkook exclaims, tense body expecting to see the older male laying in bed with a life support machine hooked up to his broken body.

But instead? He only sees a foot brace adorning the lead dancer's right ankle.

"What? Oh, you mean the cast right? I know it's cool, they decorated it with glow-in-the-dark stickers and markers." Jimin boasts, making Taehyung's eyes widen in awe and quickly approach for a closer look.

Jungkook follows the other maknae in curiosity while Jin and Namjoon go to a corner to check their social medias, leaving a dazed Yoongi alone in the middle of the room.

"...You're okay," Yoongi breaths out in amazement; but as he continues to chant those two words, his face once soft of worry turns into a statue of anger. "Not only did I run out of bed in sickening worry, but I also got my ass handed to me by a nurse just to find out that you're fucking okay?!"

Jimin pouts, a hint of guilt in his tone. "I mean...the fall wasn't just okay. They even said that it's one of the most severe ankle sprains they've had this entire day."

Yoongi scoffs at the response as he begins to pace along the tiled floor in hopes of calming down.

"I can't believe this! Hoseok was literally bawling his eyes out on the phone, saying you were hurt really badly and that there was blood everywhere."

It was now Jimin's turn to frown in confusion.

"Blood? There wasn't any blood. If anything the only red thing there was the fruit punch he wasted on me when he saw me fall. Which, by the way, ended up in my hair and became sticky."

Yoongi's face goes blank. "I'm...I'm gonna kill him."

"Kill who?" Hoseok's light and unsuspecting voice fills the room, everyone silent as they turn to the cheerful man holding bags of food in hand.

"Run bitch, ruuuuun!" Taehyung screams, half-joking and half-serious once seeing Jin and Namjoon stand next to Yoongi.

Hoseok looks confused as he place the food down on a table nearby.

"Huh? But I just got...back..." his words trail off, atmosphere thickening upon catching the stern looks of his bandmates.

"Oh h-hey, Jin...Yoongi...Namjoon," Hoseok quietly greets the three after letting out an audible gulp.

Jin's rebuke is swift. "Don't hey us! Why the hell were you crying and blubbering into the phone like that?! Actually made us fear for Jimin's life and think that something had actually happened to him."

Hoseok holds up his hands in defense with wide eyes. "B-but he really was in serious danger! He could've broken his ankle or leg."

"Yeah, but the way you said it made it seemed like he broke his neck. Especially when saying there was blood everywhere, when in reality it was only the red juice you dropped." Jungkook interjects with raised eyebrows.

"I was in panic and they both look very similar in the practice room's lighting okay?!" Hoseok snaps, the fear he once had quickly replaced with irritation.

Jungkook mockingly shrugs, feigning defeat. "Hey, I'm just stating facts here. But at least you're not a complete crybaby and drama queen who makes everything seem worse than what they are...oh wait."

Hoseok could only stare at the maknae before suddenly lunging towards him, only to end up being constrained by Yoongi and Jin.

"Man this bastard's been on a roll today...first me, now Hoseok. Someone needs to teach him as a lesson." Jin bitterly mumbles as he continues to keep the seething Sunshine from beating Jungkook.

"I'll do it! Just let me go, I promise it won't be that damaging. Maybe a little bruise here or there but that's nothing makeup can't fix." Hoseok pleads upon hearing Jin causing Jungkook's eyes to slightly widen at the threat.

"D-don't let him go!" The once smug male nearly cries, having already experienced how painful the third eldest of the group's hits are.

Jin looks at the shivering maknae with a smirk. "I don't know, it might be good to put you back in your place...should we let him go Yoongi?"

Yoongi shrugs, acting along with Jin as he too found Jungkook's behavior wrong. "Sure, it'll do him some good."

The two began to ominously loosen their grip on the vengeful dancer while Jungkook, on the other hand, starts to panic more.

"ENOUGH!" Namjoon's voice slices through the chaos, making everyone stop. "Jungkook, you know that's not how we treat one another, especially those older. You need to apologize."

"I-I'm sorry Jin...I'm sorry Hoseok. I know I've been raised not to act such a way towards you two. Must've gotten too comfortable." Jungkook softly voices out with his deepest sincerities.

"It's okay, I forgive you. Just don't do it anymore, I find it very hurtful when you do things like that." Jin states as a now calmed Hoseok nods his head in agreement.

Namjoon nods his head over the now mended problem. "Now that one of the situations is solved...Hoseok" the sound of his name being called out caused the male's body to stiffen.

"Y-yes Namjoon?" He cautiously questions already knowing a scolding is about to happen.

"Please wait until they inform you of the situation before you go and call what happened next time. We can't keep doing things like this okay?" Namjoon gently says, desperately wanting to go back home and rest at the moment.

A sigh of relief leaves the older of the two, happy that nothing worse came as he nods his head.

"Good now—"

Namjoon pauses mid-sentence at the sudden knock of the door, opening it to reveal Dr. Choi and the pretty nurse from earlier.

"Apologies for the intrusion. It's time for Mr. Park's vitals check. Please, feel free to wait over there," she suggests, soft yet authoritative as she dons her gloves.

Not wanting a repeat of before, the group obeys and relocate to the chairs, gazes remain fixed on the nurse and her captivating presence.

Noticing their intense entrancement, Hoseok lets out a snort.

"Gonna take a guess you all got the honor of meeting Miss Nurse there. Maybe ease up on the gazing, yeah? She's not an exhibit," he teasingly chides, sparking a wave of sheepish glances among the others.

"I-I can't help it! It's...she's just so..." Taehyung trails off, gaze lingering as he release a dreamy sigh.

"I know, I was a stuttering mess when I got here," Hoseok confesses, cheeks tinted with a rare flush as he remembers the way she giggled when he was making a fool of himself.

"Yup," Jungkook speaks up, tone heavy with envy, "Too bad she's got a boyfriend—fiancé, actually."

Hoseok chokes on his spit in surprise. "She's engaged?!"

Question answered by solemn head nods, his once bashful demeanor morphs into one of downhearted.

"Man...that's a total bummer. I was really hoping she was single. Well, maybe we can be friends if her fiancé isn't the jealous type." Hoseok muses out loud a small smile that quickly turns into a frown once he saw the others' faces.

"Really?! You've got to be kidding me! Dammit...can't meet anyone nice without being already spoken for or getting tangled up in dating rumors."

The disappointed dancer huffs, shifting his gaze causing a smile to appear. "At least Jimin's having a good time." Following where he was gesturing to, they all collectively look towards the said male.

"Look at him! Using his injury as a boost just to get closer...this is so unfair." Jungkook kisses his teeth, forced to watch idol cutely flirt—even going as far as holding her hand due to being afraid of needles, which the woman giggled at in fondness.

"Hey, remember when ____ begged us to ask the company to make a fake doctor's note about her leg being broken so she won't have to participate in that dance fitness class?" Jin lightly mumbles out trying to bring up the others sour moods.

And thankfully it did.

"Yeah, I remember! She was so pissed when the university she attended made it a mandatory course. Literally threatened us that she'll break her leg on purpose when we refused to do it."

"Ha! She wouldn't dare. We all know how much she's afraid of getting hurt."

"It's funny how she decided to stay in the class all of a sudden huh?"

"And going out more for jogs? Yeah, I've been noticing that too. She needs to start taking a few breaks."

"Maybe she wanted to get thicc like me?" Taehyung casually says as he flutters his eyelashes causing the others to scoff.

After ten quick minutes of the group talking about random things while their injured bandmate try woo taken woman with his sly attempts, the checkup was finally over.

"Alright, so far vitals seem to be in check. I'll prescribe some painkillers for the sprain. Though because of the severity of the twist itself, he'll have to stay for the next two days in case it's something more other than a sp—"

Distant shouts and an emergency ambulance siren cut off the doctor as his pager goes off, mirrored by the nurse's tablet in hand.

A silent exchange passed between them, a prelude to the storm brewing beyond their immediate sight.

Swiftly taking a look at the noisy devices, the two exchange a look of wary realizing they were ringing for the same patient.

"Apologies, but we're needed urgently. The painkillers will have to wait," Dr. Choi's voice, once steady, now carried an undercurrent of haste as he disappeared through the door.

"I'll be back, perhaps in a few hours." Voice usually soothing, now carries a weight as she discards the medical gloves with a practiced motion before opening the door.

"Wait! What's happening?" Hoseok reaches out, concern etching his features.

The hesitation is clear in her eyes, the professional boundary wrestling with human need to share. "It's...not my place to say. Especially with surgery waiting. I'm sorry."

Before she could leave the room, Jin steps forward. "Please. We promise to keep it to ourselves, we won't tell a soul. Just...who is it?" He softly pleads.

The others murmur in agreement, just wanting to help console the family that's probably standing in the waiting room thinking the worst.

A heavy sigh escapes her, surrendering to their insistence.

"I...it's a student from Seoul's University of Performing Arts. We were told a severe head injury: traumatic blow to the head from falling against concrete during an outdoor dance warmups...there's significant blood loss. Now I'm sorry, but that's all I can say right now." Words, hurried and clipped, she disappears into the crowd of moving medical residents.

"No, wait!" Taehyung calls out as he and Namjoon try to pursue her, desperate for answers.

Looking around the hallway for the runaway nurse only to end up empty-handed in their search, Namjoon gestures back to the room with a rueful sigh. "C'mon...let's go back."

Slowly walking back in defeat heavy in their hearts, a flash of a familiar hoodie causes Taehyung to freeze.

"No, is that...?" His voice trails of in uncertainty as his eyes narrow just to be sure.

His breath hitches in surprise, eyes widening in shock and disbelief before striding over to the huddled person, drawing puzzled looks from Namjoon.

"Taehyung? Tae-what are you doing?!" The band leader calls out as he steps from the room's doorway, gaining the other members' attention and causing them to follow.

Jungkook reaches the vocalist and pulls him back, staring at him weirdly. But the idol doesn't care, he continues to stare at the back that faces them in a trance like state.

"Tae, what are you doing? Are you insane??" Jungkook hisses, sending a wary glance over to the person hunched up in the corner crying in worry of disturbing them.

"No, t-that hoodie looks familiar see?" Taehyung faintly whispers, not wanting to believe that what his mind is making up is true.

Jungkook takes a closer look at the piece of clothing before letting out a breath.

"Look, there's plenty of hoodies that are similar to yours! You're just stressed...you can take a nap when we get back to Jimin's room okay?" The maknae assures in hopes of coaxing the older to move.

And he does. Though hesitant with every step, his eyes never leave the figure's back.

"Come on Tae, we'll eat some Panda Express. It'll help you feel better once you have a full stomach." Jin coos, gently directing the tensed idol towards the direction of the room.

But as if a tug pulled at him, Taehyung takes a step back. He looks at the faces of the others as his final decision is made.

Namjoon's eyebrows furrow in confusion at the male's expression. "What? Taeh-wait!"

Namjoon's confusion turns to alarm at younger's apologetic look, knowing he's about to do. "Taehyung! W—"

Swiftly dodging the hand attempting to grab him, he quickly jogs back where he last saw the hoodie as the rest trails after.

The chorus of voices telling him to stop were ignored.

Walking up to the person, he turns the crying person around with a tug of their hood, revealing a head of very familiar hair.

"Tae—" Yoongi's harsh voice of irritation cuts off upon seeing a tear-streaked face he immediately recognized.

"Adora!" Taehyung breaths out in relief, vaguely recalling how it was the same hoodie he gave for her to borrow but was never returned.

"What's wrong?" Jungkook softly questions the girl as her legs gave out, tears starting to well.

With quick reflexes, Taehyung grabs a hold of her, slowly bringing the troubled woman over to the cushioned chairs against the wall.

"I-I...t-they" Adora's words are in jumbled stutters, body racked with sobs making it impossible to clearly speak.

"Adora? What are you doing here?" Namjoon cautiously probes when her cries finally calms down a little.

"[N-nickname]," she croaks out as the tears resurfaced once more.

Confused dread fills up in the minds of the men around her at the mention of you as she continues to cry out her pain.

Yoongi stills with a sinking heart, fragments of past conversations piecing together into a grim realization.

"...it's a student from Seoul's University of Performing Arts. We were told a severe head injury: traumatic blow to the head from falling against concrete during an outdoor dance warmups..."

"...funny how she decided to stay in the class all of a sudden huh?"

"...going out more for jogs? Yeah, I've been noticing that too....needs to start taking a few breaks."

With frantic movements, Yoongi desperately clasp Adora's trembling shoulders.

Eyes brimming with the onset of tears, his heart feeling as if squeezed by an iron grip of dread.

"Where is she? What happened to her?"

He's answered by sobs, louder and more pained than before.

"What the fuck happened to ____ Adora!" Yoongi's voice escalates, raw with anguish as he slowly shake to the floor with cries of his own.

While everyone else looks at the rapper alarmed, Taehyung's own tears spilling over as he draws Adora into a supportive embrace.

"She's...in critical condition. They..." Her words are fragile with despair, the weight of it nearly snapping the hearts of those who heard it

"...they say she might not wake up."

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yumeka36 · 5 months

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I recently watched the first season Jujutsu Kaisen. Since it's become a big hit, I was interested in checking it out, plus my boyfriend and another friend like it.

Overall, I liked it. Can't say that anything about it particularly wowed me, but it was still a fun time. Since I've watched plenty of Naruto, Bleach, Demon Slayer, My Hero Academia, and other shonen series, the many shonen tropes and character archetypes in JJK were more noticeable to me than they would be for someone else who hasn't watched as much anime. But again, I don't mind seeing familiar tropes as long as they're done well.

My main major complaint about the series, at least for season 1, is that I couldn't stand how Todo's character was handled, especially how he was introduced. Maybe I'm missing something, but my interpretation is that he shows up, beats the shit out of Megumi for literally no good reason other than he doesn't like his taste in women?! I was like "aren't you guys on the same side? Why are you trying to kill a fellow student that you don't even know?" And then he's suddenly played up as a comical character who's infatuated with this cute female idol...that's fine and all, but it's a little hard for me to find a character funny/charming when they just attempted to kill one of the main protagonists for a petty reason. And then he does the same thing again to Yuji later - beats the shit out of him for no good reason (I know the principal ordered the Kyoto students to kill Yuji, but the way Todo reacted didn't seem like he wanted to follow those orders?) Then he has some weird delusion of him and Yuji being friends in school...and now he's suddenly best friends with Yuji?! And again, the show was making it seem like this was supposed to be funny, but I was just like "you were literally bashing his head against a tree a minute ago and now I'm supposed to like you because you've decided you're his best friend because he happened to give an answer about women you approve of? How is this a likable relationship?" And then in the very last episode, it was Todo who recommended Megumi to the principal and I was like "didn't you want to kill him when you first met him? Now you like him? Because you were fighting the same cursed being together for ten minutes?" I dunno, everything about Todo just rubbed me the wrong way and I just could not relate to him at all, which was frustrating. But at least he wasn't in that many episodes. I got excited when one of the episodes started with a bit of Todo's backstory and I was like "oh, maybe I can finally learn more about this guy and why he beats people up for not liking their taste in women." But no, the flashback hardly showed anything. A later season, hopefully.

But besides having issues with Todo, I liked most of the other characters. Megumi is my favorite of the main characters. I warmed up to Yuji and Nobara in time, but I liked Megumi right away, as soon as I saw he was willing to help Yuji during their first encounter. I liked him even more in the last few episodes of the season where we get to see some of his backstory. Yuji and Nobara are good foils to Megumi, since he's often the straight man to their immature antics.

Of the side characters, I like Panda and Miwa. I was curious about Panda as soon as I saw him, so I'm glad I got to learn his origins so soon. And Miwa is one of the few characters that made me laugh a couple times. She just seems more wholesome than many of the other characters. Nanamin is pretty cool too.

The animation in JJK was enjoyable to watch, as well as the interesting designs of all the curse creatures. Though I have to say the world-building seemed a bit weak to me, but I know that's something that could develop later. Like, Jujutsu High School doesn't seem much like a high school...I don't see any kind of organized training or classes, and there's only, like, ten students between Tokyo and Kyoto. We also didn't see much of the politics behind the jujutsu sorcerers other than from the perspective of the schools. There must be some larger network of authority figures who govern everything? But again, I'm hoping in time we'll learn more about that. The humor in the series was hit or miss for me too, but I also have high standards for humor in general, probably more than most people, lol. I'm not typically a fan of humor that involves the characters breaking out into hyperbolic shouting along with the animation style changing dramatically to indicate we're in "joke mode" now, especially in a series that's otherwise dramatic like this one. But I did get a few chuckles here and there.

The action scenes were really cool, especially the domain expansions. But I did find the power level of the characters a bit inconsistent. Like, in the first episode Megumi had to rest and get healing after that battle, but then he gets punched through buildings by Todo and gets practically killed fighting the bridge curse...but seems totally fine soon after. And then there's Yuji displaying extraordinary feats of physical endurance and shrugging off life-threatening injuries...I know he said at the beginning that he's more physically able than most people, but still. But I'll just say it comes from their curse powers giving them extra damage reduction, lol. It's the case in most shonen series that injuries that would kill a person in real life only cause minor injures to shonen protagonists 😅

My favorite bunch of episodes were the ones with Junpei. I liked his backstory and how he developed a relationship with Mahito. The series kinda hinted that he's not actually dead but I'm not sure. I also enjoyed the last few episodes of the season where it was just Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara going on a mission. If all or most of the series was just them going on missions to get rid of curses and developing their friendship, I'd be cool with that, lol.

To summarize, while I didn't love JJK and had some issues with it, I definitely enjoyed it enough to want to keep watching. I plan to start season 2 soon!

#jujutsu kaisen

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wildcatofgreen · 1 year

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She traveled to the Battlesphere alone, this time.

Of course, this time around she sent texts to all of her friends that she'd be going like this... and, of course, some people protested. And boy, would she love to go with Lyli, would she love to go with Sony, would she love to go with Cory or whoever the hell else was heading this way to watch her big fight... or participate, in Sony's case.

But... nah. She didn't want distractions again. Going home was apparently hell for all of them last time. Going there would just make things worse, right?

And she is a little scared of what would happen if she went there with Lyli. Just a little.

She doesn't need that kind of weight on her back right now. After the fight, she told herself, after the fight.

As she approached the elevator, with all of her necessary objects in tow--jump disc, gemerald, soul gems, goggles--she noticed a certain tiny Mayor following suit.

"Oh, you showed up! And here I thought you ran away."

"Yup. Get it all out your system, Zao.

"Ya won't have a chance 'ta mock me when I beat that panda punk hands down today."

"OOOOOOOHOOHOOHOOHOO, YOU'RE CONFIDENT TODAY, AREN'T YA?

"Better hold on to it when Spade wipes the FLOOR with you!!!"

"Yeah okay, alright dude."

"What's wrooong? No pit crew today?"

"Dun't need it. This'll be a one an' done thing. It'll be over before ya know it."

"Oh I have never met someone so eager to lose!"

"Nah--ya jus' dun't know what I'm cookin'."

"Suuuuuuuuuure. Like you've really gotten better in over a week!

"In any case--the rules are the same as last time. No ring outs, no breaking my expensive glass, only knock outs and knock downs. Anything goes, just don't kill each other. After ten seconds with all your limbs on the floor you lose, and if you need a break you get either a five minute one or a fifteen minute one."

"Wait, what? Wasn't it--"

"It's only one fight--there shouldn't be any breaks at all! You're lucky you're getting this."

"Whaaaaatever. Let's jus' get this thing goin'."

---

The wildcat sat in her rest room, merely awaiting for Igor to call her name and for the match to start. She did a... little bit of practice with the goggles on--just getting used to how they felt again. Everything still felt really weird with them on... but they were supposed to help. Them, and her soul gems, would be the thing that'd get Spade on the ground once and for all.

Too easy. It'd be aaaaaall too easy.

Everything else comes later.

"CAROL THE WILDCAT, IT'S TIME FOR THE REMATCH OF THE CENTURY!!!!!"

"Kind of overblowin' it there, Igor."

But, either way.

The show's about to start.

She walked over to those double doors, smirk on her face, goggles in place, gems at the ready.

This was gonna be easy.

#carol's cruisings #carol's adventures #+5 red pandas #the rematch of a lifetime

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sharkgal-97 · 7 months

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Oh btw lil story i did with my ocs lol

A date over the alps

Back in 1999, Dan and Abba were going around in their Panda when Dan asked the driver: "dude... you know you look so cute when you're driving..?"

The driver responds with: "That is so sweet of you, but i can't elaborate because i'm trying not to crash here". It was 1 am.

How did they get there?

It started the day before that. It was 7 am. The two were with Giulia and Gio having breakfast, when dan proposed to cross the country border and kill some time in France.

Gio and Giulia said no, because they had something else in mind for the day. Abba said yes because, well... He likes driving. Also he wanted to see France and taste an authentic crepe.

So the two boys hopped on the Pandino at 10 and went west.

"So, have you ever been in Monte Carlo?" Asked Dan.

"First time. It may seem weird, but i've never been there. There's a distant cousin of mine there, but he's the one that usually comes down for Christmas."

"Oh, does he know some french?"

"Maybe."

About 20 minutes later, dan said that he missed Paris.

"You miss what?" asked Abba surprised.

"Paris. I've been there once and i just miss going out in the street and see the "iron asparagus" pop up among the other buildings. I also miss the french."

Abba gave his boyfriend a concerned stare. "Dan are you good?"

"Yes, yes. I'm weird i know.

But still, i just miss the weird "r" and the u's that have like ten different characters after them that get ignored when pronounced"

"I guess weird al wasn't as weird as you."

"Thanks, Abba."

They laughed a bit.

"You know what i just realized? We still haven't changed our money"

"Aaaah don't you worry, Abba. We have powers!"

"You're right."

Silence.

After some time, they get to the border. They bribe the guards and wave them goodbye. They find themselves in Monte Carlo. They could go spit on some Lamborghinis or go buy something to eat. So they did both.

They went in a bar after the spitting and tire destroying session. Abba finally saw why Dan missed France. Dan's french was so fluid that the author's gender in comparison would look solid as cement.

He got one pepsi while his boyfriend got a lemon soda.

"Did you live in france?" Abba asked him, stunned.

"For uuuh... Three months..?"

"THREE MONTHS??? AND YOU SPEAK FRENCH THIS GOOD???"

"Yes, i had the full immersion. i also studied french in middle school."

"Oh."

And they spent one hour in there, casually chatting.

"How about we go in Paris?" Proposed Abba.

"We're not using the Panda, are we?"

"No, no. We'll use our magic universe bending powers."

So he just snapped his fingers and they found themselves in front of the Eiffel tower.

Dan was completly stunned, petrified. It was standing there, in all of its rusty glory.

"Why the fuck are there scaffoldings all over the asparagus?" Asked Dan, confused.

"Oh! I heard they're putting a gigant display for the new millenium's arrival!"

"Why are they doing it in august?"

"I guess that screen is as big as the next millenium."

"Plausible."

The two started walking around, they saw the Louvre (goddammit they forgot the mona Lisa), the champs d'eliseé (idk how to spell that), the metro signs and hopped in the Moulin rouge.

Much, much later, they were walking along the seine, watching the Eiffel tower shining and glimmering in all of its golden glory and the various lights reflected on the waters.

"Say, Abba. Don't you find this romantic?" Asked Dan.

"Yes..." Replied Abba.

"Dude you good?" Asked Dan, worried.

"Yes, yes... I'm just thinking...

I've been with you for a somehow short time now, and this is the most romantic thing anyone can ever do... why did you do this this early?"

"Well... Let me tell ya, Abba. 24 years from now, we might be sitting in a house, maybe in Pavia or somewhere else and you'll be thinking about this moment, this place, these very footsteps we took... a smile will appear on your face..."

They stopped, gazing at the golden tower.

"...and each time you'll see a picture of this landscape, you'll immediately think of this love we had."

"This is... So poetic..." Said Abba.

"Now, shall we kiss..?" Asked Dan.

Abba quickly turned his head to him. The two were looking into eachother's eyes, still seeing the lights all around them, and they slowly got closer... Closer... Closer... And their lips finally touched. A warm feeling captured the two boys, as they were feeling their touch and their smell, completly isolating them from the enviroment.

That moment... Was so long, yet short...

They slowly opened their eyes...

Then Abba hugged him thightly.

"I've never been this glad to have met anyone in my life before. Thank you so so much for being with me!" Said Abba, with a big smile on his face.

"You're so precious... I will protect you with every cell of my body." Said Dan, patting Abba's head.

So, the two spent part of the night there, walking hand in hand along the the river, until Midnight came.

Then Dan used his mighty powers to get them both back to Monaco and hop on the Panda.

And that leads us here.

What next..?

Oh, they Simply got home, shared some moments together and kissed eachother goodnight. Even if they slept in the same bed.

#shark anthro #anthro #furry #writing #gay #love story #france #otter

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bbysamu · 3 years

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Helloooo!! I know you most probably have a list of your upcoming works, but can you do another part of the HQ boys losing you in the mall?? 🥺👉👈 this time With daichi, kei, tobio, and wakatoshi?? Thanj you!! 💟

Haikyuu boys losing you at the mall // pt.3

featuring:: SAWAMURA Daichi, TSUKISHIMA Kei, KAGEYAMA Tobio, USHIJIMA Wakatoshi

genre:: slice of life / fluff

warning:: none!

⤷ Part 1 | Part 2

a/n:: thanks for the request! I always have so much fun writing this series. Pls lemme know if you have any other characters you wanna see!

❥ SAWAMURA Daichi

Daichi seldom loses you because 1) he’s very careful and 2) the two of you are almost always touching in some way. Which is all the more reasons why he’s was surprise to feel himself grabbing onto empty air. “Y/N?” He looks around, trying to spot you in the crowd of people. “Y/n?” He shouts louder this time and catches the attention of the nearby security guard. “excuse me, sir, but are you looking for your child?” “no, my wife.” “well, she’s a grown adult so there’s no need for you to be shouting in a public area like this.” Daichi feels his cheeks get red and quickly mumbles an apology. Right on cue, you come running towards him with two ice creams in hand. “babe, look what I got for us!” Daichi quickly nods his thanks and drags you away as the guard looks on in disapproval. “Princess! where’d you run off to? I was shouting for you and got scolded by the guard.” You look at him curiously, “I said I was getting ice cream for us remember?” Daichi thinks back and vaguely remembers a distant memory. “right, but next time bring me along okay? I don’t ever want to experience a scolding from a guard again.”

❥ TSUKISHIMA Kei

All it took was him taking off his glasses to clean them and you’re gone. Tsukishima sighs and pulls out his phone, shooting a quick text to you, “where’d you run off to this time? I’ll be waiting by the fountain.” Ten minute passes and still no reply from you. He quickly loses his patience, this was the third time this month you’ve run off while he was cleaning his glasses. Was it so hard to wait thirty seconds for him? He walks over to customer services giving the lady at the desk his sweetest smile. “hi, I seemed to have lost my wife, is it okay if I borrow your broadcasting system to make an announcement?” “uh...it’s not normally protocol for customers to make broadcasting announcements themselves, but since you’re asking so nicely...” Tsukishima smiles as the lady hands over the microphone. “Y/n, Y/n, please come to the customer service desk or I'll let this entire mall know how many times you fart in a day and--” Your husband gets cut off “sir! that is not appropriate!” You giggle as you quickly make your way over to customer services, not doubting your husbands threat for a second.

❥ KAGEYAMA Tobio

“babe, I gotta run to Sephora real quick, meet me in about 10 minutes at our usual spot okay?” “wait, where’s our usual-?” Kageyama looks on helplessly as you get swallowed by the crowd. He looks down at his phone only to find it conveniently out of battery. The tall man stands in place, wrecking his brain for usual spots. About ten minutes later, Kageyama waits outside Panda Express. When you don’t show up, he moves to the next possible usual spot, the bench outside Victoria Secrets. When you still don’t show up, Kageyama starts to get worry, the way his brows furrowed and his fists clenched tightly drew the attention of the nearby sales. “um..sir? are you okay?” Kageyama looks up slightly embarrassed, “yeah I'm fine, I'm supposed to be waiting for my wife at our usual spot, except I don’t know where that is.” “oh um...would you like to use our intercom broadcasting system?” “oh sure, that’d be helpful.” He watches as the lady press the broadcast button, “Y/n, Y/n! Your husband is currently outside Victoria Secrets waiting for you. Please come here at your earliest-” Kageyama unable to contain his anger, interrupts with a “BOKE! HURRY UP AND MEET ME HERE!” “sir!---” Hearing your husband’s outburst on the intercom had you laughing and running at the same time, making a mental note to never leave him by himself at the mall again.

❥ USHIJIMA Wakatoshi

He lost you because he got distracted by a flyer about some discount on bags of rice and you lost him because you got distracted by an announcement of a Dean fan-meet at the mall. By the time he realizes, you’re already on the other side of the mall, waiting in line to get your high-touch. Ushijima tries the first logical thing, to call you, but reception was terrible and all he could make out was the screams in the background and you going, “m so excited--”. For a few minutes, Ushijima simply stands in front of the map of the mall. His big, intimidating presence scaring other costumers, who dare to only hover a few feet away, trying to catch a glimpse of the map. He sighs and starts to wander, hoping he’ll eventually find you. And he does. Ushijima literally finds you in the food court, looking down excitedly at your hand. “Y/n! where did you go? and why are you just looking down at your hand like this?” He tries to hold your hand, only for you to slap it away. “don’t touch this hand right now, I just high-fived Dean.” “who?” You don’t answer him, smiling down at your hand instead. “whatever, next time bring me along to see this “dean”. I don’t want to lose you again.”

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#ceci.writes #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #daichi x you #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x reader #kageyama x y/n #kageyama x reader #ushijima x you #hq hcs #Haikyuu hcs

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adoring-jjk · 3 years

Text

CLUELESS

pairing: gojo x gn!(teacher!)reader

request: hihi! if you're willing, could I request something with gojo crushing on a super dense reader who isn't picking up on their flirting and all that? :D • by anonymous

word count: 1.7k

warnings: none just a lil suggestive at the end

notes: i hope u see this and enjoy! <3

you prided yourself in being a very observant person, as a jujutsu sorcerer in battle, scoping out curses within seconds, and in general in your every day life. but unbeknownst to you, there was one category where you were the most unaware person ever––gojo's intentions.

there were countless times where you failed to realize he was flirting.

like when he offered to help you train the students a couple weeks ago, even though he always had important missions to go on. so you told him he didn't have to.

"oh no i've got it," you smiled up at him, waving him off. "i'm sure you have more important things to be doing, don't worry about me."

meanwhile, itadori and nobara were physically cringing at the scene in front of them, panda and maki were trying not to laugh, megumi was rolling his eyes and inumaki let out a very pitying "tuna".

gojo had tried to persuade you to give in, a charming smile on his face as he spoke. "oh come on, it's really no trouble. and i mean the two of us would make quite the pair, don't you think?"

but still, you hadn't caught the hint and sent him off, pouting like a child as soon as he turned around. but that didn't discourage him.

he tried again the next night, ordering takeout for the two of you to eat in his room. you spent a couple hours in there, your thighs touching as you ate side by side but you thought nothing of it.

he scooped some food onto his chopsticks and brought it up to your lips, his voice soft as he spoke up. "open up."

your eyes widened a fraction but you quickly smiled, "oh thank you!" and parted your lips, biting the food off and chewing happily.

"there you go." his eyes were trained on your lips for a few seconds before he looked back at your eyes, but you of course couldn't tell. "it's good, right?"

you nodded, "really good."

soon, the two of you were done eating, chatting as you sat at the small table in the middle of the room, before a comfortable silence surrounded the two of you.

you looked out the window at the sound of the wind howling, the trees rustling aggressively. "gosh it's gotten so cold recently."

he smiled, watching you. "you know you could always just sleep here and we could keep each other warm."

you turned to him, your expression now concerned and his brows furrowed. "oh, are you too cold at night?" before he could answer, you were getting up. "don't worry i have an extra blanket you could borrow!–"

"no y/n i––" he trailed off and slumped down realizing you were already gone, an almost fond smile on his face. "that's not what i meant..."

you also failed to notice his flirting when he offered to give you a full body massage after an intense mission a few days later.

"you know i've been told to have magic hands, y/n. i wouldn't mind using my magic on you." he smiled and nobara fake-gagged behind him. "just come to my room and i'll set everything up." (he was actually known for giving good massages so it wasn't a lie, more of an opportunity).

you perked up, "oh thank you!" you paused for a moment, "actually just hold on, okay?"

you ran off and he tried to high-five nobara but she slapped his hand away and rolled her eyes before walking off.

it was about ten minutes later after he set up the candles and everything that he heard a knock at his door. he smiled and opened the door, his face freezing when he was met with itadori.

you popped up next to him, a big smile on your face and he couldn't help but melt inside a bit. "i'm not too sore but itadori was the one running around and fighting the most so i figured he could use the massage you offered me!"

itadori rolled back his right shoulder, "thanks so much for offering sensei, my arm is a little sore to be honest."

"right––um well," gojo stepped aside, "come on in then."

itadori's eyes widened as he walked in, scanning the room in awe as he practically muttered praise to himself. "oh wow, the ambience is really nice in here, you're like a professional."

gojo turned to you, "you know the offer still stands, i could still give you a massage when i'm done with yuuji-kun."

you shook your head, "oh don''t worry about me. thank you so much though! you're so sweet," you walked off without another word and gojo sighed, turning back to the boy in his room.

itadori scratched the back of his head, "so should i just strip completely or––"

gojo blinked. this was really not the way he saw his night ending.

––✧––

you didn't realize his intentions until nobara brought it up in the kitchen one day.

she sipped her water and looked at you over the rim of her glass. "so when are you going to reject the poor man? his advances are getting a little pathetic, honestly."

you stared at her in confusion but she went on.

"do you just like the attention? cause if so, i respect that. but it is getting a little sad watching him pine over you like a puppy. not for me, i think it's hilarious. but probably for him."

you blinked and stood up straight. "what are you talking about?"

she raised a brow and put her glass down, "gojo sensei?"

you spluttered for a few seconds. "wh––huh?" her gaze turned more confused and disbelieving as she watched you. "what do you mean?"

"he's into you...?"

"gojo isn't interested in me." you shook your head, trying to immediately push away the idea. it couldn't be true. you would have noticed, right?

"y/n, you can't be serious––respectfully." you had told the students to call you by your name but she didn't want to risk stepping out of line here. "you haven't noticed the way he flirts with you?"

"he doesn't flirt with me?"

nobara shook her head, in shock. "you honestly think him offering to feed you and give you a massage is just him being a good friend?––" you were about to silently add that he did actually feed you the other day when she turned her head as megumi and itadori walked into the room. "guys please tell y/n that gojo is basically in love with them."

they both nodded immediately.

"oh for sure." itadori responded, opening the fridge.

megumi crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. "it's kinda pathetic honestly."

nobara turned back to you, her hand open towards the boys. "see."

"wh––" you looked between all of them. "how do you know?"

they all looked at you deadpan and even you could tell what they were saying.

you looked down, fighting the heat rising to your cheeks as you bit your lip. "hm, okay. well i––i'll see you guys tomorrow morning."

as you made your way to the rooms several questions and thoughts came to mind, were you really that oblivious? were you hurting his feelings all this time?

after a moment of contemplation, you found yourself outside gojo's door. you took a deep breath and knocked on the door, preparing to walk away if he wasn't there or if––oh what if you woke him up?–

suddenly the door opened to reveal a shirtless gojo, hair flopping over his blindfold as he pulled them up over his eyes, sweats hanging over his hips loosely. he leaned against the doorframe and though his eyes were covered, you could tell he was looking you up and down from the movement of his head. "well well, to what do i owe the pleasure?"

you cleared your throat, getting your thoughts back on track. "i just––" you took another deep breath, and looked up sheepishly. "i wanted to apologize, i didn't––i didn't realize you were flirting with me all this time and if i did i would have flirted back or given you the same energy back––" his lips curved into a smile but you were too distracted, rambling on too fast to notice. "and this whole time you probably thought i wasn't into you or something."

"y/n." he tried to get your attention, but you kept going.

"but i like you a lot and i just––i really could have waited till tomorrow and i probably woke you up–"

"y/n."

"god you probably think i'm so––"

he stepped closer to you and placed his hands on your cheeks, making you trail off abruptly. "can i kiss you?"

you licked your lips absentmindedly, your eyes wide as they focused in on his mouth. you nodded, letting out a small please and he was quick to indulge, his lips pressing against yours softly.

he hummed when your hands found their way to his abs, sliding up to rest on his chest and pulled you closer, his thumbs caressing your cheeks softly as he licked your bottom lip.

he was about to slide his tongue into your mouth when you heard an exasperated "finally--" from somewhere, too distracted to realize who it was.

gojo pulled away with a chuckle and licked his lips, looking down at the flustered look in your eyes, his hands still on your face. "for your information i thought the whole clueless thing was really cute on you, to be honest."

you smiled and bit your lip. "well that's good."

he pulled his hands away from your face, smiling at the pout that graced your features. he wanted to kiss it away. he took your hand in his, his heart squeezing at how much smaller it was than his.

he took a step back, "how about you come in and keep me warm, hm? what do you say?"

you tilted your head, "okay...but no funny business."

he smirked, "i haven't even taken you on a date yet, even i have more class than that." he pulled you into the room gently and kissed your temple. "just wanted to cuddle. is that okay?"

you nodded, giving him a sweet smile. "more than okay."

LEAVE A TIP <3 (if you’d like)

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk imagine #jjk oneshot #jjk drabble #jujutsu kaisen #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo oneshot #gojo fic #gojo imagine #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader

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h3art-n-s0ul · 3 years

Text

Apologies

Akaashi x Reader

(Please feel free to reblog and comment)

Word Count: 2k

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Keiji is planning on proposing to you, but nothing seems to go to plan.

Content Warnings: Language, minor comedic sexual references

___________________________

Akaashi had been planning to propose to you for two months. Two very long months. Well he knew he was going to marry you about five minutes after meeting you. But technically, he bought the ring two months ago. He had it all perfectly planned out. In two days, he would propose in the place you two first met. He knew it was cliche but, the place you two met was slightly unconventional.

It was the parking lot in front of the local university library. He had actually gone in to talk to the administration and see if he could rent out the parking lot from them. The request was so odd, it took them a bit of time to respond. It actually worked out perfectly since they were closed this Saturday, so they agreed to let him rent it out for his intended purpose. The staff were quite confused as to why he would want that old parking lot until Akaashi explained. They hadn’t gotten enough funding to redo it in years so there were tens of potholes, cracks, and broken pieces of blacktop. The colored lines were fading so most people just guessed where to park. But that very parking lot was responsible for your meeting.

It was early spring, and there was still a chill in the air. Akaashi was running late to one of his classes and was weaving between vehicles in the parking lot to get to his car. You were busy walking towards the library with a book up to your nose. Multitasking you know? Akaashi didn't see you around one of the cars and obviously neither did you, too invested in your book. Like fate brought you together, you crashed into one another. You completely stumbled backwards, less than gracefully, sending your book flying. And fly it did, right into a muddy puddle.

“I am so sorry!” Akaashi bent down to help you up before retrieving your ruined book. He brushed off the cover and noticed the title.

“Shit, sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You apologized and he handed you the novel.

“No, no, it was totally my fault. I was in a rush. I’m so sorry about your book. I have to say you have great taste in fiction though.” Akaashi laughed lightly.

“Oh um thank you. Again, I am so sorry for running into you, well, I mean I'm not, but, uh-that was totally my bad. I’m sure you need to get going…” You turned to leave before he grabbed your wrist while he reached into his bag to pull out his wallet.

“Please allow me to pay for it.”

“No, really it’s fine. You don’t have to do that. Totally my fault. I'm sorry.”

Akaashi opened his wallet and groaned, “Ugh god I am so sorry I only have my card. Here.” He scribbled on the back of a receipt and handed it to you. “This is my phone number, text me your venmo and I’ll pay you back. I’m really in a rush right now, sorry.”

“No it’s fine really! Um what’s your name if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Akaashi.”

“Great. I’m Y/n. Wish we could have met under better circumstances, but I’m glad we’ve met. I’d like to chat about your taste in books sometime.”

“Me too.”

Eventually, you texted him, but it had nothing to do with venmo. Instead you invited him out to coffee and you two just kept meeting. Akaashi felt bad each time that he hadn’t paid you back, but you reassured him it was fine and he could bring money next time. In actuality you were using it as an excuse for you two to keep meeting up. Until finally, neither of you needed an excuse to see each other. One thing led to another and two years passed. Now you and Akaashi were living together in perfect harmony.

Akaashi had contacted Bokuto before he bought the ring. Who better to consult about this than his best friend?

“OH MY GOD YOU’RE GOING TO PROPOSE?!” Bokuto yelled into his receiver. “About fucking time. Okay hear me out, spell the question out in fireworks. She can’t say no!”

Akaashi chuckled. “Well I was thinking of going for something a little more private and personal. And I don’t even know if she’ll say yes yet.”

“Keiji are you kidding? There’s no way she can say no. You two are so perfect for each other!” Bokuto was so excited for his best friend.

“I don’t know about that first part. I just know she’s it for me. I’m just glad I know her pinterest username. I think I’m going to start there.”

“I admire your resourcefulness. Honestly, I bet you could pop the question in a garbage yard and she’d still say yes.”

Then it hit Akaashi and he knew exactly where he wanted to propose to you.

“Hey thanks for the ideas Ko. I have to go right now.”

“But you just called?”

“I have to run to the bookstore right away.”

It was perfect. He would set the open ring box on top of the book when he got down on one knee, finally paying off his debt to you.

All he had to do now was lie in wait. Just two days. He could do it. It took everything in him not to tell you already. He tucked the book into the back corner of his t-shirt drawer along with the ring. It forced a smile on his face every time he got ready in the morning.

“Hey Darling, I’m going to head out real quick to pick up the new air conditioner, okay?” Keiji yelled from the back bedroom.

“Yeah okay sounds good. Oh wait- can you get take-out? I’m kinda too lazy to make dinner.” You laughed and he walked into the living room where you were sitting. A book sat in your lap. Some things just never change.

“Yeah of course. Panda express?” Keiji smiled at you.

“Oh god I’m so in love with you.” You replied. Akaashi scoffed and leaned down to press a quick kiss to your lips.

“Okay I’ll be right back!” You heard the clatter of his keys and the shut of the door. Your eyes cast downward back to your page. About five minutes later you wiped a bead of sweat from your forehead. ‘God it is way too hot.’ You stood up and walked to your shared bedroom to change into something lighter. Unfortunately, your favorite t-shirt resided in Akaashi’s drawer. You pulled the drawer open in search of the thin, white shirt. You fingered through the various fabrics until they touched something hard and smooth.

“What- is..” You pulled the novel out and saw the title. ‘Why would ‘Kashi hide this…Fuck what if this was like a gift for me or something?’ You thought. You already felt bad before your eyes scanned back inside the drawer. A little black velvet box sat in the back right corner. Holy shit. Your hands were shaking as you slowly grabbed the object and opened it. A bright diamond ring stared back at you. Holy shit.

“H-he was going to propose?” Shock filled your body and you backpedaled to sit on the king bed. You couldn’t think.

‘Maybe the ring wasn’t his? What? No that’s stupid. Well maybe it’s not an engagement ring?’ Your eyes glanced back down at the ring.

‘Nope. Definitely an engagement ring. When was he planning on proposing? Sure you guys had talked about getting married before but- he was planning it this whole time? How long?’ And then the worst thought filled your mind. ‘Holy shit. What if he’s angry at me? I totally ruined the surprise! Maybe I can put it back and pretend I didn’t find it? No, I don’t wanna lie to him! Oh my god what if I start off our marriage with lies! He’d never forgive me! And then we’d have to get divorced in our 40’s! Oh god!’ Before you could pull yourself out of your thoughts, the front door opened.

“Hey love, I forgot my phone!” Panic settled in your body and your hands scrambled to shove the ring underneath the blankets.

“Darling?” Akaashi walked into the bedroom and saw you awkwardly sitting on the bed. He chuckled a bit, “Love? What’s going on? Why are you sitting like that?”

“Oh- me? What do you mean? I was just relaxing.” You tried to block his view from the book by sitting upright.

“Did you finish your book? Why are you all sweaty?” Keiji noticed the anxious aura around you.

“Um well you see-” Come on Y/n. Think of an excuse! Come on!

Keiji raised his eyebrow suspiciously and started to lean over to see behind you.

“MASTURBATING!” You squeaked out.

“What?” Keiji started laughing.

“ I was- um masturbating. That’s why I’m all sweaty. Sorry. God this is so embarrassing you should just leave!” You nervously winced. ‘I’m so fucking stupid.’ You internally facepalmed.

“Um okay. I’m sorry I uh I’ll just get going. Sorry babe.” He flushed red and awkwardly started to shuffle out of the room before seeing the open top drawer. Oh fuck. He immediately turned around to you and sighed. He hung his head low and asked, “You found it didn’t you?”

“KEIJI I SWEAR TO GOD I AM SO SORRY I DIDN’T MEAN TO IT WAS JUST SO HOT AND YOU KNOW HOW I LIKE WEARING YOUR T-SHIRTS-” He collapsed into a heap on the floor and put his face in his hands.

“PLEASE ‘KASHI NO I AM SO SO SORRY PLEASE DON’T BE UPSET WITH ME YOUR SHIRTS JUST SMELL SO GOOD AND YOU KNOW WE DON’T HAVE AC! UM WE CAN PRETEND IT NEVER HAPPENED I MEAN I DIDN’T REALLY EVEN SEE MUCH-” You continued rambling before he got up and grabbed your hands. When you looked at his face he had tears in his eyes.

“OH GOD KEI I AM SO-”

“Why would I be upset with you, love?” Keiji smiled bitterly.

“Y-you’re not mad?”

“No, of course not. I’m mad at myself. I should’ve remembered you liked wearing my t-shirts.” He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “I guess this just isn’t really how I pictured this going. I’m so sorry.”

“No, Keiji, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault.” You profusely apologized.

“Wow this really brings me back.” He smirked thinking of your first meeting. “So, I take it as a no?”

“What? WHAT? NO NO NO!” You frantically waved your hands in front of yourself. “IT’S A YES! YES! Keiji, I am so in love with you baby!” You grasped his cheeks in your hands and sniffled.

“Really?” His eyes widened.

“‘Kashi are you kidding? Of course I want to spend the rest of my life with you! There’s no one else I want.” You reassured. Slowly he propped his right leg up and looked up at you while holding your hands.

“Darling...I’m so glad to hear that because I will never love anyone more than you. You’re all I want. Forever. Will you marry me?”

“Yes. Yes. Of course!” You buried your face into the crook of his neck and started bawling.

“And just so you know, I wasn’t planning on proposing in our bedroom. I was actually planning on proposing to you in a shitty parking lot.” Both of you laughed.

“Where we met?”

“Of course.”

“No, no, this was perfect too.” You grinned into his neck.

“I rented out the parking lot too.”

“You didn’t!” You shoved his shoulder in disbelief.

“I did. I was going to finally give you your book.”

“You’re such a romantic, Keiji.”

“And now your fiance.” Both of you couldn’t keep the smiles off your faces.

‘I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

BONUS:

“CONGRATS YOU GUYS!!!” Bokuto hugged both of you. “Akaashi I thought you rented the parking lot for Saturday though?”

“Yeahhhh...about that.” “She found the ring early.”

“Oh shit. Sorry man.” Bokuto rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“No Ko, it was actually perfect. I don’t really care anyways. As long as we’re together.” You leaned into your boyfriend, fiance, future hubby.

“What did I tell you, Keiji?” Bokuto cawed.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“So what are you doing with the parking lot then?” Ko asked.

“We’re having a panda express picnic date on Saturday.”

(A/n literally could not sleep. Just this on my brain at 2:30 am)

#🤍writes #pls reblog #akaashi keji x reader #hq akaashi #haikyuu akaashi #akaashi keiji #haikyuu!!#haikyuu! x reader #haikyuu! fluff #fluff haikyuu #akaashi fluff #keiji fluff #akaashi imagine #akaashi fanfiction #reblogs

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anagentinwriting · 3 years

Text

Lifeline - Part 1

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: ~1800

Warnings: Car accident, angst

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

A line ringing over your headset notifies you another emergency call is coming in. You cleared your head, preparing for anything, and clicked the spacebar, answering it, “911, what’s your emergency?”

“Bro, that was insane,” the male voice said over the phone. “You’re gonna be famous on YouTube.”

“Excuse me, sir? What seems to be the problem?” you asked, letting out a sigh.

“My friend is having trouble breathing, and his throat feels like it’s on fire.”

“What’s the address?”

“576 Rose Lane in Westwood.”

You typed the address into your computer, signaling the nearest available unit to the caller's location. “First responders are on their way. Can you tell me what he was doing before this happened?”

“We were doing the cinnamon challenge.” You rolled your eyes. “I thought it was harmless. Then, he was gagging, and then he coughed, and a puff of cinnamon came out of his nose. It was awesome; he looked like a dragon.” It's been a while since you got a call about an internet challenge gone wrong, but it's been forever since you got a cinnamon challenge one. You didn't even know that challenge was still around. “Oh fuck!”

“Is everything okay? What happened?”

“He collapsed. He’s not moving. Should I shake him awake?”

“He probably passed out, but paramedics are only a few minutes away. Is he still breathing?”

“I don’t think so,” he panicked.

“Remember to stay calm, I’ll help you through this the best I can, okay? Okay, now I am going to have to ask you to administer CPR. Do you know what to do?”

“Sort of. I learned it in health class a few years ago.”

“Perfect. It's 30 chest compressions followed by two breaths going to the rhythm of the song Staying Alive. You can do this.”

“Ok---okay. Yeah. Right, right,” he mumbled. Hearing him set the phone down on the ground, he started counting and doing chest compressions.

The responding unit was about a block away, and once they arrived, you could hear the sirens coming through the phone call.

“Odinson, take over compressions,” a lady’s voice commanded. “Kid, come with me.”

“Is he going to be...” the line went dead as he hung up his phone.

You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your eyes. This wasn’t anything new; when help arrives, people hang up, and you don’t get to know how it ends, but maybe it was for the best. You sit back up, seeing your reflection in one of the many screens in front of you. At least, you knew most of the firefighters from Station 107 at the scene, including your brother Thor, if you ever wanted to know how it ended.

It's tough, taking call after call, emergency after emergency with little to no recovery time in between. It’s a stressful job that is emotionally and physically taxing. It requires extreme focus, patience, and puts you under a certain kind of pressure. The pressure of wanting to help and do everything you possibly can when this person you never met puts their life in your hands. You never know what the outcome will be, but you try to help them get through what might be the scariest moment in their life. It’s those calls, the ones you were able to save, that keep you coming back to work.

You stepped away from your command center and headed towards the kitchenette, spotting Luis rummaging through the fridge. It wasn’t unusual, but it did always bring a smile to your face. It was hard to believe he was one of the dispatchers who showed you the ropes after relocating to Los Angeles three months ago.

“Hey, Luis.” He turned around with a doughnut in his mouth, quickly removing it and shooting you a carefree smile.

“Hey, Chica, get any weird calls yet? You know I love hearing about those weird ones, right.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, but a guy called earlier saying his whole body hurt everywhere he poked. I told him to drive to the emergency room and get his finger looked at because it’s probably broken. Oh, and there was another cinnamon challenge victim.”

“Another one, I thought that craze was over.” He shook his head. “But I did hear about this crazy call that came in last night, right. It wasn’t so much crazy, but one of those nuisance calls, you know what I’m saying, the kind where you’re like, ‘why are you calling, this isn’t an emergency type of situation?’ Anyways, Cameron Klein took the call; you know the dude with the great hair, the kind you just want to run your hands through. It has the perfect fluff to curl ratio. I mean, I touched it once, and it was like a cloud. I asked him what products he used in his hair, and he was like…”

“Luis, how does this relate to the call?”

“Oh, right. Sorry, sorry, sorry, so there was this lady caller, right. She was telling Great Hair how she couldn't leave her car because there was a hostile raccoon outside her door. So then, Great Hair was like why don’t you go out a different door. And this caller says ‘yo I tried, but it’s like this trash panda can read my mind, right. He follows me when I move to the other side, and he’s like crazy, stupid fast like a rocket.’ And here comes the best part, Great Hair was like, ‘Hey girl, you better run fast then,’ and hung up,” he beamed with a slight chuckle.

“Oh my god, people really need to learn what an emergency is,” you chuckled, shaking your head.

“You know that’s right, but duty calls.” He tilted his head towards the door, carrying two doughnuts and a huge mug full of coffee.

“Later, Luis.”

Years ago, you never would have imagined you would be working as a dispatcher in Los Angeles. You preferred helping people hands-on, which is why you became an ER nurse. It was the feeling of never knowing what was going to come charging through those doors next that excited you. But being a dispatcher gave you a whole different kind of thrill because you could only use your voice to help.

The rest of your shift flew by until you were on hour eight of your ten-hour shift. A pileup involving a semi jackknifing on the highway forced a huge collision of cars. All the units in the area along with a few on the outskirts came in to assist. It was the same call coming in multiple times, and all you could say was help was already on the way.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Send help,” the woman cried, telling you her address.

“Ma’am, I am going to need you to tell me what is going on?”

“A power line…a power line fell into our pool, and my daughter is trapped on her unicorn floaty in the water. I don’t…I don’t know what to do.”

“Stay calm, ma’am. My name is YN, and I’m dispatching a unit to your home now.” You switched lines to the highway accident, getting on a line with Captain Danvers from Station 107, who was sending three individuals to the scene right away. You switched back to the caller. “Okay, I will need you to stay calm. What is your daughter’s name?”

“Morgan, she’s five years old.”

“Please, whatever you do, make sure Morgan stays on the floaty because it is protecting her from the water. There is a good chance the power line is sending more than 5000 volts through the water.”

“Okay, okay, I can do that, “ the mother breathed. “Honey, please stay on the tube.”

“I'm going to try to get in contact with the power company to turn it off.” You looked up the power company in the area, and someone slid next to you. You glance over, seeing Bruce get to work on calling the power company. You nodded at him, staying on the line with the mom. “Ma’am, has help arrived yet?”

“No, but I can hear the sirens.” You peeked at Bruce, but he shook his head, still trying to get a hold of the power company. “They are coming through the back gate now.”

“Ma’am, can you hand the phone to one of the firemen?” You bit your lip, studying the layout of their home on one of your monitors. There were flowers all over their backyard, and you got an idea.

“Hello, this is Fireman Rogers.”

“Hi, Fireman Rogers. This is 9-1-1 dispatcher, YN, how is it looking there?”

“Well, on the drive-in, we saw that a truck hit the power line pole, which caused the pole to fall into the pool. The driver isn’t in any serious condition, but one of our EMT’s is looking him over,” he informed in a deep voice. “Then, we have a pool vibrating with energy, but I assume you already know that part.”

“Do you have a plan in place? We are still trying to get a hold of the power company.”

“There are a few more floaties by the pool. I could ride one over to Morgan and pull her to safety?”

“Really? Where did you get that from the macho man handbook?”

“I don’t think that book exists, YN,” he added, making you scoff.

“I may have an idea.” You narrowed your eyes, playing out the idea in your head.

“What did you have in mind?”

“I can view the whole home on one of my monitors, and there are a ton of flowers. So, I can only assume a garden hose must be nearby.”

“Yup, I see it.”

“Okay, perfect. Grab the hose and cut off the metal ends; it's rubber, so it won't conduct electricity. Then, have you and another fireman take the hose and walk along the opposite sides of the pool. Have Morgan grab ahold of it and carefully pull her back to the edge."

“That’s genius, YN. Thanks for your help,” he acknowledged, making you crack a side smile. Few people said thank you in this job, but when they did, you appreciated it. “Here’s your phone back, ma’am.”

Morgan’s mother's breath was shaky and staggered through the phone. She was scared and had every right to be. If you were in that situation, you would be, too. “Oh my god, it’s working. It’s working,” the mother shouted into your ear. “Are you okay, honey? Are you hurt?”

“I am okay, Mommy,” Morgan replied before the phone line went dead.

You smiled at yourself in one of the now blank screens. It was these moments why you loved what you were doing; a happy ending. Some calls never get a happy ending, but when they do, those are the ones you try to remember when a stressful call comes in.

________

AN: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. There is a long way to go and I promise things will definitely get more interesting. This was just a quick intro to some of the many characters that will make an appearance/cameo. Comments always welcome! Thanks for reading and I hope you’ll stick with me!

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min-youngis · 4 years

Text

Boom - p.jm

monkey brain said make a banner on your own u hussy

~ Pairing : Park Jimin x Reader (entrepreneur x software company intern, dance partners au)

ft. Best Friend/Roommate! Jungkook and Brother! Yoongi

~ Genre : Fluff, Humour, a very very very tiny smidgen of Angst

~ Rating : R (some suggestive descriptions, a fair amount of swearing and scary adult themes like money)

~ Summary : When Jimin leaves your little trio at the age of ten when his family moves away, you and Jungkook think that's the end of it, and you're never going to see your best friend again. But cut to twelve years later and suddenly your dance class is home to the prettiest man you've ever seen (again), who happens to be your friend's business partner and also...your new dance partner? Your friends think you're dumb, but you can confirm you're dumber.

Childhood Friends to Strangers to Lovers

~ Wordcount : 29.3k (🤡)

~ Warnings : swearing, some suggestive descriptions, mild alcohol consumption, excruciatingly slow burn, inaccurate depictions of internships and company establishment, emotional constipation, badly dealt with feelings, i-like-attention-but-i-don’t-like-people y/n, people who say please and thank you and excuse me and sorry are really fucking attractive, dissociation as a coping mechanism, overthinking as an instinct

~ A/N : no a/n this time ladies i'm all out of words. this has been two months in the making. muchos gracias to @ghostiemakingposties and @thedorkyfork for helping me figure out the timelines/logistics and making the plot make a semblance of sense :D thank you, that is all, i am ti r e d.

i'd love to hear feedback, spread the love!

masterlist in my description.

~~~

2008

“My mom says we’re moving.”

He says it with all the innocence of somebody who’s completely clueless about how permanent a shift like that is, blissfully ignorant in his ten-year-old self. Over the buzzing of a bee somewhere nearby, you can hear a door shut as Jungkook runs into the house, screaming for food.

Squinting against the sunlight that filters in through the rustling canopy overhead, hitting your eyes abruptly every time that one particular leaf moves in the summer breeze, you ask, “Where are we going?”

There’s a quizzical tone in his voice when he replies slowly. “I don’t think you’re coming. Mom didn’t say anything about you coming.”

You turn your head towards him, facing his body that’s mirroring your own, laid out on the grass that smells like summer, hands and legs spread languidly because time is forever and you have nothing to do but breathe and laugh and live. Your messy pigtail pushes into the side of your head painfully, but you ignore the uncomfortable sensation, eyes widening as you fix him with a stare.

“What do you mean, I’m not coming?”

Chewing his lip worriedly, he says, “I think she means we’re moving moving.”

“It’s a scam.”

“It’s a what?”

“A scam,” you repeat decisively, turning back to face the sky, closing your eyes again and feeling powerful as you explain your new found knowledge to an eager crowd of one. “Yoongi taught me. He said that when dad tells him he won’t get dinner unless he washes up after basketball, he’s being scammed and that adults tell lies sometimes to make us do what they want us to do. He said it’s progapanda.” You, Jimin and Jungkook know that your four-years-older-than-you brother knows everything.

“Panda?” Jimin asks doubtfully.

Sagely, you nod. “Yeah. We’re being raised to be brainless machines and slaves to the catapultists.”

“What are catapultists?”

Shrugging, you reply, “No idea. But Yoongi says they’re really bad. Anyway, your mom is probably scamming you. You’re not really moving.”

“No?” he asks, hopeful tilt in his voice.

“Nope,” you blithely respond.

You hear the grass underneath his head faintly rustle as he nods in relieved affirmation, and he goes back to closing his eyes towards the bright sky.

Jimin moving. It’s laughable. Adults, you think ruefully, shifting so you can feel the warm sun on your face. Some things are permanent. Like Mr. Kibum, your dance teacher who’s taught you your entire life, and the flowers that your mom keeps in the vase on top of the shoe rack that look shockingly real for plastic. Like Yoongi's basketball that he got when he was selected for the school team and is too big for you to hold, but with which he taught you how to dribble anyway, and like the large tree in Jungkook’s backyard that you’re lying underneath right now, waiting for him to come back from the house with lemonade.

And like Jimin, who’s just always there. Even when you don’t particularly want him to be, like that one time he had come over when you were crying four years ago because Yoongi was going to middle school and you both wouldn’t be in the same bus anymore. You had been so embarrassed because Yoongi was just standing there and laughing at you, but Jimin had said that he wouldn’t tell anybody and you had believed him, because it’s Jimin.

“And anyway, Kook and I won't let you leave.”

He snickers next to you. “How are you going to stop my mom?”

“We'll cry,” you reply simply, shrugging as much as you can in your laid down position. “I do it all the time to get stuff at home. Yoongi hates it, he calls it my younger sibling privilege, whatever that means.”

He doesn’t sound very convinced when he asks, “Will it work?”

Behind you, you hear the repeated thud of Jungkook running and his mother shouting, “Slow down! You’ll end up spilling it all and I’m not going to make another bottle.”

With a grin at Jimin, you say, “Watch,” as you sit up and turn towards an excitedly jogging Jungkook and as he approaches the tree.

“I have lemonade!” he shouts loudly, lifting the glass bottle up.

But you’re more focused on Mrs. Jeon and the platter full of mini sandwiches she’s holding. The yellow, sunflower shaped digital watch on your wrist reads 12:37 PM, roughly the time at which your mother usually calls whichever house you’ve spent the morning in and asks you to come home for lunch. The plan forms in your brain. Time to show Jimin the power of tears.

“Y/N, dear, your mother just called. She wants you back home after eating this, alright?”

Remembering Mr. Kibum's pre-performance advice (‘Deep breaths. You can’t put on a good show if your head isn’t fastened on tight.’), you summon all your strength and screw up your face, shutting your eyes and squeezing as hard as you can.

“What is she doing with her face?” you hear Jungkook ask. But it doesn’t distract you. You’ve just felt water behind your eyelids.

Opening your eyes wide again, you let your lower lip wobble with practiced precision, chin trembling.

“Oh, Mrs. Jeon, is there no way I could stay for a bit longer? Just ten extra minutes, I promise.”

To your delight, she immediately looks unsure, eyes slightly widening in surprise and concern.

“Oh! – oh, but of course you can. I’ll call your mother right now and let her know. And why don’t you take some of those sandwiches for the road too? There’s no need to cry, sweetheart, you can spend as long as you want here.”

You continue with your act until she’s back in the house and the door swings shut behind her, after which you immediately right your expression, grinning smugly. Grabbing a sandwich, you sit back down and look at a bemused Jungkook and an awed Jimin.

“And that’s how you do it,” you say, satisfied with their reactions and tuning them out as Jimin fills Jungkook in.

For people who have money, adults really are terribly stupid. Jimin moving, you think again, taking a big gulp of lemonade. The thought almost makes you laugh. As if.

2020

“Y/N, could you debug my code real quick?”

“Y/N, I need ten copies of this immediately.”

“Y/N, you’ll need to stay back for a bit today to finish the patch testing.”

You rush from cubicle to cubicle, sharing harried smiles with the other interns that you meet in the hallway, running around like you with equally stressed expressions on their faces. They may have been here a few weeks longer than you, but you doubt they’re having it any easier.

You’re about to slip back into your desk after submitting the copies to Hoseok so you can get started on debugging the code you’ve just been sent, when a ringing voice calls out from the room you’re jogging past.

“Y/N! Come in here for a second, please.”

Immediately, everybody around you freezes. Slowly, they inch away from the door that you’re standing outside. Wide eyed, you meet Hyejin's gaze worriedly from across the room. She looks just about ready to drop the tray of paper coffee cups she’s holding, but tries for an encouraging smile. It comes out more as a grimace. You see pitying stares around you and foolishly wait for a few seconds for some sort of divine intervention, for somebody else who shares your name to get up and enter the room instead.

“Y/N, I don’t have all day!”

From the cubicle on your left, Namjoon hisses, “Go! Before she gets mad.”

Pulling yourself together and squaring your shoulders, you turn and look at the half open door in front of you. A plaque on the wood reads ‘Kim Jennie – Head of Product Development'.

You place your fingers on the handle and hear a fervently muttered prayer from an intern standing behind you. With a deep breath, you plaster a polite smile on your face and push the door open.

“You had called for me?”

“Repeatedly.”

Off to a lovely start, then. You walk over to her desk, stopping when you’re a couple of feet from it. She doesn’t immediately look up from her laptop, choosing to let you stew, no doubt.

You’ve just started subconsciously picking at your nails when she deigns to look at you, slowly removing her glasses and placing them on the desk.

Twice before you’ve been called to her office. The first time was because you were subbing for her sick assistant and had messed up her coffee order. The second was when they needed an intern to sit in at a high profile meeting to shorthand the minutes and you were the nearest one they could find. Both times you had received an earful – the former got you a stern admonishment and the latter an equally strict warning to ‘make it legible, at the very least, if you can manage that’.

You wonder what you’ve done wrong this time. Wracking your brains, you come up empty. You’ve been much too busy with the subjects to fuck up for the queen.

“How has your time here been so far?”

“I'm sorry?” you ask in befuddlement, certain that you’ve misheard her.

There’s a flash of a tiny smile before her mask comes back on.

“I may be firm, but I’m not heartless. Being an intern at this company isn’t easy. I just want to know how you’ve been settling in for the last month.”

Realising that you’re gaping, you hurriedly shut your mouth before clearing your throat and replying, “I’ve been learning a lot and I’m glad to have the exposure.”

“Okay, now give me the non-textbook answer.”

“I’m sorry?” you ask again, simultaneously feeling thrown off and like a damn fool.

“This isn’t college anymore, Y/N. I’m not your professor. I’m your boss, and maybe, some day, your colleague. You’re our newest intern and I know it can get a little intense, so I just want to make sure that you’re comfortable.”

You look at her suspiciously. Is this some kind of sick, twisted test? But you take in her serious but kind eyes and decide that she’s being honest enough. Now or never.

“Can you allow interns to use the fancier copiers? They’re quicker than the ones on the second floor that we use now.”

You get a raised eyebrow and for one, terrifying second, you think she’s going to throw you out of her room, out of the building, out of the company and write an email to all the other software companies in the world telling them not to hire you.

“There is no rule stating that interns can’t use the copiers here. Have you been climbing floors every time you need to copy something?”

Before you can stop yourself, you ask, feeling like a broken record, “I’m sorry?”

She rolls her eyes and you feel like a chastised child. That’ll teach you a lesson about listening to your brother’s best friend.

“Will that be all? Any other...legitimate grievances?”

“Oh no, that’s all. I’ll be – er, going then.”

You get a lazily waving hand in response and consider yourself dismissed as Jennie puts her glasses back on and turns her attention to her laptop screen. About to pull open the door, you stop short as you hear from behind you, “Maybe actually read the company policy instead of talking to Hoseok, yes? Ask my assistant for a pamphlet. I dare say Yeonjun should be able to give you more reliable information.” You can swear you detect an amused smile in her voice.

A few hours later sees you as the centre of attention in a crowd around the coffee machine in the break room, regaling the interns around you with the latest.

“She did that for me too,” Hyejin says once you’ve finished your story, taking another sip of her coffee. “She does it for all the interns but it’s usually batch wise. You probably had to go it alone since you joined late.”

Shrugging, you reply, “Either way, it was terrifying.”

Soobin gives you a soothing pat on your shoulder. “At least that’s done with. Now you’ll only have to talk to her again if you fuck up spectacularly or if you’re really, really good.”

You nod mindlessly, biting off a piece of the canteen sandwich and chewing thoughtfully.

“Hey, Y/N! Managed to get fired before even getting hired?”

You spin around and see Hoseok and Namjoon cackling like a bunch of stupid hyenas along with some other employees. Pushing past a giggling Hyejin, you storm over, seeing red.

“Jung Hoseok. How dare you make me run around the damn building just to get some copies whenI didn’t even have to?”

You’re glaring at him now, looking up at his gleeful face.

“Oh my god, did you ask her about it? What did she say? Fuck, I wish I was there.”

Huffing, you reply with your arms crossed, embarrassed. “She told me to ask Yeonjun for the company policy pamphlet.”

He howls in delight, slapping a grinning Namjoon's back. “Ah, I can’t wait to tell Yoongi about this. He’s gonna have a field day.”

Unamused, you continue glowering at him. To your increasing annoyance, he looks completely unaffected, bringing a hand up to ruffle your hair, giving you flashbacks to when he used to come over to your house to hang out with Yoongi all those years ago. You have to admit, he was a great deal nicer then than he is now, snickering at your fuming expression. You aren’t ten years old anymore.

Narrowing your eyes one last time, you turn around on your heel and begin to walk away.

“Meet at the entrance at six today?”

You don’t verbally reply, still walking and flipping him off over your shoulder.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then?”

“Yes,” you mutter, just loud enough for him to hear before you leave the room in the crowd of interns you had entered with. Lunch breaks are only so short and those codes aren’t going to debug themselves.

“You alright?”

“Peachy,” you sigh, rubbing a finger on your temple as you let your head rest on the window next to you.

“It’s intense, isn’t it?” Hoseok asks, eyes focused on the road in front of the car.

“Yeah. I didn’t expect it to be this heavy.”

Attempting for a cheery tone, he replies, “But, hey! A month! That’s great! Most interns usually burn out by then, but you’ve managed to stick around.”

It’s a small consolation and you tell him as much, mindlessly watching the darkening sky as you get closer to home and to dinner and to bed.

“You’re doing well,” he says comfortingly. “Just give it some time. If you got through college, you can get through this.”

“When did you get so wise?” you chuckle, turning your head to see his lips quirk up in a teasing smile.

“When you were off gallivanting on the other side of the country and I was a lowly intern, just like you are now.”

Sputtering, you reply, offended, “I was in college.”

“Yes, that’s what they all say,” he sighs in a mock-patronising tone. “What’s up with your friend, though, Hyejin? She seems cool.”

“She isn’t into you, don’t bother,” you reply shortly, knowing exactly what Hoseok is asking.

“Not what I meant.”

“Hmm, I’m sure. Purest of intentions, yeah?”

Pulling up next to the curb outside your apartment, he crosses his index finger over his heart and replies haughtily, “Now that I know I don’t have a chance, yes, actually.”

You snort, unbuckling your seat belt and twisting around so you can get your bag from the back seat.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, pushing the door open.

He smiles kindly in return as he waves off your gratitude and says instead, “Don’t do any work this weekend. Product rolling week starts on Monday and you’re gonna need all your energy.”

“Is it more intense than usual?”

“Unfortunately so,” he replies through the open door to your standing frame with a grimace. “It's fun work, though. Just tiring.”

Nodding with a sigh, you shut the passenger seat and give Hoseok a wave as he smiles at you and drives away.

You trudge up the stairs, thanking all the higher powers for Jungkook and the fact that he had reached home earlier than you. You don’t think you can handle cooking right now.

“Kook! I’m home!”

You hear an unintelligible, muffled grunt from somewhere inside the house in response as you kick your flats off in the foyer and shut the front door behind you.

Moving inside, you drop your bag on the table and make your way to the utility room from where you had heard Jungkook's voice. You’re greeted by the sight of his sweatpants-clad butt as he ruffles around the open washing machine in front of him, dumping clothes into it from a basket in his arms.

“Is it laundry day already?”

You get an impatient huff in response and a muffled sound emerges. “Every day should be laundry day.”

Snorting, you reply to his face once he’s stood up and cracked his back with a grimace. “We get like three outfits a day at most. What are you going to put in there, your Halloween shrimp costume?”

“I thought we agreed to not mention that!”

He deposits the empty clothes hamper in your tired but accepting arms, gesturing you to place them on the counter behind and you do so, as you laugh, “Now why would I agree to something so stupid?”

“Because you’re stupid.”

“And you’re 22, but you still can’t figure out something more devastating than a middle school comeback, stupid.”

You watch, satisfied, as he sputters for a bit before glaring at you and turning on his heel, walking out of the room.

Grinning, you follow, feeling loads lighter after that interaction. Nothing like winning some good old-fashioned verbal sparring to get the sinews stiffened again.

He leads the way to the kitchen, grumbling under his breath as you walk behind him, your stomach rumbling something awful.

“Oh, bless your soul, it’s food!” you moan, rushing towards the box full of rice sitting on the counter.

“Lovely, so now my soul is blessed, but any other time, I’m stupid. You might want to heat – alright, then.”

You don’t pause as you rapidly continue shuffling the contents into your mouth like you haven’t eaten in days. Climbing up onto the counter, you chew and swallow, only pausing for a second in the middle to ask, “How was work?”

He brings down two tea bags from the overhead shelf. “Fine, I guess. Managed to get assigned a good story, so that’s something.”

Swallowing, you say, “That’s great! And the novel?”

With a shrug as he pours boiling water into the cups, he replies, “Haven’t made any headway. I’m still stuck at the same place.”

“Well, you have the weekend to focus on it. That’s bound to help, yeah?”

You set aside your empty box, feeling satiated, and accept the mug from Jungkook with a smile, nursing the warmth in between your palms and letting it steep as he takes a sip of his own tea while nodding.

“Hopefully. And class tomorrow should be fun, might get something there.”

You hum in response, pleased. The thought of your weekly dance class perks you up a bit as you feel your eyelids drooping at the soothing smell and steam of chamomile under your nostrils.

When you and Jungkook had found out that you’d both be coming back to your hometown for work after spending four years at different colleges, the first thing you two had done after finding an apartment to share had been re-enrolling at your old dance studio. Now Saturday mornings are exclusively reserved for listening to Taemin, Mr. Kibum's protégé, shout at you and roughly ten other young adults to ‘Dance, you lazy fools,’ like he’s an old man who’s angry at teenagers about stepping on his lawn instead of the 25 year old, recent fine arts graduate that he is. Most of the class, including Taemin, are people you’ve grown up with in the city, gone to school with, performed at recitals with when you all were teenagers.

Sliding off the counter, you take Jungkook’s cup from him and wash it along with your own. Now that you’ve been fed, you want nothing more than to go to bed so you can wake up in time in the morning. Once, you and Jungkook had made the mistake of being five minutes late, and now Taemin’s put a black asterisk next to both your names in the database, like he’s running a bloody pre school.

“Oh, and I almost forgot, Tae finally found a business partner!”

Stacking the cups on the side of the sink, you dry your hands as you reply, “I always knew he would. Is it somebody you know, from college?”

“No, he said they went to high school together and met again at a reunion party. “

You’re having trouble keeping up with the conversation at this point, feeling your eyelids becoming more insistent in their bid to shut, so you just pat an amused Jungkook on the shoulder in acknowledgement before you manage to say through a yawn, “I’m excited to meet him. ‘Night.”

“Remind me again why I didn’t dance more in college,” you groan from your sprawled out position on the wooden floor of the room.

Taemin walks up and down the three rows of tired, panting dancers, looking infuriatingly fresh and straight off the ramp despite having just run through a terrifyingly complex and intense routine. Your only consolation is the fact that he seems to be the only one.

“Because you’re a nerd,” comes the reply to your rhetoric.

You try to move your leg hard enough to connect with Jungkook's, but all you can manage is a pitifully weak love tap on his shin. He lets out a wheezy sort of laugh from his straight legged, sat down position on your right, body tiredly leaning on his palms behind him. On your other side, Hyejin is faring marginally better than the both of you. She looks a little tired, but eager to, god forbid, go another round. She always was more active in college. It used to annoy you, when she used to wake up at the ass crack of dawn to go do something awful, like exercise, but now you wish you had joined her occasionally, if for nothing else but to have a stamina greater than a sedentary brick.

“On your way out, make sure you check the notice board in the reception for information about the competition.”

“Boom? It still happens?”

Taemin fixes you with a dry look as you slowly sit up and copy Jungkook’s position. “Shockingly enough, this institute runs perfectly normally even without you around, Y/N.”

Mr. Kibum taught him a bit too much, you think, as chuckles erupt around you.

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “Oh, please, we both know I’m only asking because a maximum of four teams used to participate when we were in school. Third place just meant second last.”

“We made it a solo and duet competition three years ago. More teams, easier to coordinate for participants. We’re doing much better than we used to.”

It makes sense. BigHit, as a studio, used to have a small but dedicated group of patrons. Everybody knew everybody, and there were only two rooms. But looking at how much bigger this new building is, and the number of students in this contemporary batch that you’re a part of, not to mention the multiple rooms that you pass by every weekend filled with screaming children learning how to pirouette and b-boy, it’s clear that there’s been an increase in customers.

The lot of you trudge outside the room, making your way to the entrance in a babble of ‘Goodbye!’s and ‘See you next week!’s. You can feel the familiar soreness setting into your legs and back, but it seems less intense than it used to be. You’re rifling through your bag for your water bottle as Jungkook reads the poster on the notice board.

“See you at work!” Hyejin calls out as she walks towards the doors, letting you give a distracted wave to her retreating back.

“Ah, shit, I think I left my bottle inside. Give me five minutes?”

Jungkook nods, not really paying attention to what you’re saying, too engrossed in the pamphlet.

With an internal groan, you turn around and walk back the way you just came until you reach the room you’re looking for. Pushing the door open, you stop to a sudden halt, feeling like the SpongeBob with headphones meme.

The sight you’re met with leaves you gaping. The man dancing inside is gliding through the music, elegance pouring out of every fingertip. His back is facing you, and you can make out the strength and control he has over his movements, shoulders fluidly firm and back flexing with each lift of his arms, slow twist of his hips through his plain white t-shirt. It seems, for a single, permanently ephemeral moment like the music is radiating from his very being, and not from the speakers on the side. You hardly realise that you’re still standing, that you’re still breathing, but watching his limbs flow with such commanding grace somehow makes you feel so, so alive.

Abruptly, the music stops, and you feel like you’ve been woken up from a year-long slumber, suddenly conscious of your body, of your existence. He still hasn’t noticed you, frozen as you are at the doorway, and he walks towards the speakers away from the door. You don’t look away, slightly out of breath, and with a start, you notice your blue water bottle on the floor next to his shoes on the side.

Gingerly, you step into the room and softly clear your throat, feeling like you’ve just desecrated someplace holy. The man turns around, speaker in one hand and phone in the other, slightly panting, and the moment comes to a standstill yet again, suspended with wild surmise.

“Y/N?”

The floppy brown hair, those twinkling eyes and pouty lips. Suddenly, you’re ten years old again, sitting with your best friend under a tree and discussing excuses to get out of doing homework.

“Jimin?”

You’re meeting each other in the middle of the room now in a tight hug, and you step away with a million questions running through your brain.

What’s Jimin doing back in this city? Why is he practicing in the studio alone? Is he staying? When did he get so pretty?

The last thought hits you like a bullet train and you impatiently shoo it away. It’s been twelve years, of course he looks different.

“You look great!” he says, eyes crinkling as he smiles, tiny dimple popping, in the I haven’t seen you in a really long time and this is how the script for such situations reads voice.

“So do you! How come you’re here?” you enthuse, referring to the same play, still reeling.

“I moved back a week ago! Do you still live here?”

“Moved out for college, came back for work-"

“Hey, Y/N, what’s taking you so lo – Jimin?”

“Kook! You’re here too?”

You watch Jungkook’s face morph through shock, surprise, confusion before mirroring your own expression of bemused joy as he meets Jimin in the middle for a hug. Seeing them like this makes your heart ache with the memory of the last time the three of you were together, that final evening under Jungkook’s tree, as the sun was setting on the horizon and you were all promising each other that you would write thrice a week. Even you and Jungkook, despite the fact that you both weren’t moving anywhere. Of course, not a single email was sent. Not unless you count that one week in college where you were avoiding your texts like the plague and used exclusively email to contact a very exasperated Jungkook (“Y/N, you literally do not even have to reply to my messages, but every time I get an email notification, I keep thinking it’s from the university and I don’t know if I should be relieved or worried when I see that it isn’t.”).

Before you know what’s happening, leave alone protest, Jungkook’s pulling you into the hug so your head is smushed into his chest, face a hair's breadth away from the side of Jimin's. He’s still giggling with Jungkook as the latter says, “Hey, this is so great! The three of us, just like old times, yeah?”

You take in the crinkles around Jimin’s eyes as he smiles, the sweet, high pitched, deliciously familiar sound of his laugh, his playful voice as he says, “It’s wild that you used to be the shortest of us,” to a faux offended Jungkook, and with the memory of him dancing like that still etched in your mind, you know that this is nothing like old times.

You push yourself out of the hug and plaster on a smile to cover how unsettled you feel on the inside. You’ve never been good with change, and this is a huge fucking change.

Laughing along for a bit, you let out an internal sigh of relief as Jimin winces and says, “Taemin and I are gonna be dancing together at the competition and he'll be here any minute, so I really should get back to practicing. He channels Mr. Kibum’s spirit even more when he has a vested interest in the outcome, and he really wants to win.”

“Oh, yeah, sure! No worries, we'll let you get back to it, then,” you utter, perhaps a tad too enthusiastic. Jimin doesn’t seem to notice anything, just giving you one of his wide smiles before the three of you exchange numbers.

Jungkook finishes entering his contact on Jimin’s phone and hands it over to him. “We should totally catch up sometime, though!”

Jimin agrees enthusiastically with a swift grin and says, “Yeah, definitely! We'll make plans soon,” and the next thing you know, and not nearly quick enough, you’re out on the pavement, absentmindedly counting the tiles as you and Jungkook walk back home.

“Are you overthinking this?”

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by his question. He’s got an infuriatingly knowing look on his face that you want to smack right off.

“What’s there to overthink?”

“It really isn’t a big deal, you know. I mean, yeah, it’s been a million years since we saw him and it kinda sucks that we couldn’t keep in touch and obviously, puberty hit him like a glorious, gorgeous truck, but he’s still Jimin.”

Side eyeing him, you wonder if it’s a good thing that it sounds like he’s just read your mind.

Sighing, you reply, kicking at a pebble in front of you in half-hearted annoyance, “He’s just so...grown up. And old.”

“You're three months older than him, if I remember correct.”

Debating on whether you should direct your next kick at him instead and deciding to spare him, you say, “You know what I mean. I know he’s still Jimin, but I feel like I don’t know him at all. You should have seen him dancing, Kook, it was beautiful. So poised and graceful and wonderful and skilled. I’ve never seen anybody dance like that apart from Mr. Kibum, maybe. Who is he?”

“There, there,” Jungkook replies after your sudden, passionate outburst, patronisingly patting your head as you huff and shake off his hand. “We literally just spoke to him for the first time in twelve years. I feel weird about it too, but I’m sure we'll be more comfortable once we spend more time together. We’ve grown as well, yeah?”

First Hoseok, now Jungkook. The amount of wisdom that’s been shoved on you from unexpected quarters recently is quite astonishing.

You tell him as much, swerving his swatting hand and narrowly missing bumping into an annoyed couple walking next to you. Giggling as you simultaneously apologise and teeter precariously on your heel, trying to regain your balance, Jungkook lets you suffer for a while until he finally takes pity and grabs your hand just in the nick of time, standing you upright.

“Tae wants us to meet his partner tonight over dinner,” he says, ignoring your scowl of annoyance as you hoist your bag higher on your shoulder from its displaced position.

“I’m meeting Yoongi for dinner today, though.”

“Tell Tae that. He’s annoyed you aren’t replying to his messages anyway.”

In a mumble, you reply, “He shouldn’t take it personally.”

Jungkook just hums in response as you both climb up the stairs to the apartment, more than used to your delayed replies. “Can you get Yoongi to bake that chocolate cake again? I’ve been craving it.”

Pushing the door open, you say, already dreaming about dessert tonight and Yoongi’s cooking skills, “Me and you both, my dude, me and you both.”

Yoongi : How long will you take to reach?

Depends. How long will the cake take to get ready?

Yoongi : If you aren’t here in fifteen minutes, I’m eating it and only leaving enough for Jungkook.

Open the door.

“Took you long enough,” Yoongi huffs as you close the door behind you and step into the foyer, slipping off your shoes in the doorway.

“Hey, I was only listening to what Hoseok said. I am to, and I quote, completely relax this weekend because next week's gonna be hell apparently.”

He flicks you on the forehead, easily dodging your half-hearted counter attack before leading you into the house. The smell of food wafts out of the kitchen, nearly making you salivate. If there’s one good thing that’s come out of moving back to this city, it’s that Yoongi never moved out and where Yoongi lives, good cooking thrives. He always did pay more attention to your mother’s lessons.

You’re preoccupied with trying to guess what the smells are, eyes closed and nose sticking up, when you suddenly bump into your brother’s back.

“Move over, then. What are we waiting for? It doesn’t taste as good reheated,” you say, eagerly trying to move past his frame so you can enter the kitchen slash dining room.

But something in his manner seems shifty. Slowly, you bring the balls of your feet back to the floor and stop fidgeting as you take in his evasive expression.

Sighing, you ask, casting one last doleful expression to the doorway that’s so close yet so far, “What did you do?”

“Who says I did anything?”

At your unimpressed look, he huffs before taking a deep breath, as if to summon up some courage.

“Y/N,” he starts, his uncharacteristically sweet tone making you wary.

“Yes?” you slowly ask, simultaneously suspicious and curious.

He places his palms on your shoulders and your younger sibling instincts kick in, ready to punch him in the stomach if he tries to flip you. But there’s no trace of mischief in his unsure, slightly scared eyes. Pleased as you are that Yoongi feels the need to be cautiously terrified around you, you wonder what you’re about to hear that’s making him anticipate a negative reaction.

In a soothing voice, he says, tilting his head like how he used to talk to you when you were seven, “You know that you’re my favourite sister, don’t you?”

Okay, that’s it. With an impatient click of your tongue, you wrench his hands off and swiftly sidestep him to the kitchen doorway as you mutter, “I’m your only sister, fool.”

But the insult never leaves your mouth, stuck as it is on the tip of your tongue. You’re left halted at the doorway, gaping like a fish at the figure sat on the table, Yoongi’s voice urgently, uselessly hissing, “No, wait, don’t go in yet!” behind you and trailing off like a deflating balloon.

“Hello, Y/N,” Kim fucking Jennie says, pleasantly smiling up at you, looking completely unfazed.

“Hi- Hel- Hey, Jennie.”

Your embarrassing stutter ends in a growl as Yoongi behind you chuckles, his laughter morphing into a deeply satisfying grunt of pain as you elbow him in the stomach as discreetly as possible.

Jennie's slightly widening grin shows that maybe the motion wasn’t as discreet as you had hoped. Oh, well. As long as it hurt like a bitch.

For a moment, you just stand there, looking at her with your mind blank. Twice in the same day, you’ve been left at a loss for words, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. She doesn’t seem to be too affected, sitting calmly and steadily looking at you through her black, full-rimmed, cat-eye glasses, like a drastically younger and more female version of an Asian Dumbledore. In fact, if anything else, she seems like she’s having quite a good time. Her smile doesn’t waver, and you’re still thrown by how young and non-terrifying she looks when you aren’t in front of her in a boss-intern capacity, but all that will come later. For now, you need answers.

Thankfully, at that moment, from behind you, in a voice that sounds disgustingly like a male turtle dove cooing to his romantic counterpart, Yoongi breaks the deafening silence. “Could you give us a moment, Jennie?” he asks, and with an amicable nod from your boss, he guides you back out to the living room with his hands on your shoulders.

The moment you’re out of earshot, you whip around to face him, mustering as much anger and irritation into your gaze as you can. “What the fuck?” you hiss, distantly glad to see him a great deal more scared than he had been when he laughed at you back in the kitchen.

Not giving him a chance to reply, you rapidly continue, “What is my boss doing in your bloody kitchen?”

He holds up his palms in a placating gesture as he says, “Now, I know this is a bit of a shock-"

“Figured that out all on your own, did you?”

“-but Jennie and I are...seeing each other.”

“Oh my god. Oh god. Holy fuck. I need to sit down.”

You drop onto the couch behind you, Yoongi tentatively following your lead, gingerly perching himself out of punching range.

As you try to wrap your head around this lovely surprise, he continues, “I know she’s your mentor and stuff, but it isn’t going to be any different at work or anything. You weren’t even technically supposed to meet her today. Her car's gone for servicing and her Uber’s running a little late.”

“Okay, wait, wait. How do you even know her?”

Looking slightly less wary, now that he can tell that you aren’t going to attack him, he says, “I met her at one of those company parties last year, when Hobi made me go as his plus one.”

You straighten up so fast, it’s a wonder your spine doesn’t crack. “Last year? You guys have been dating for an entire year?”

Trying to subtly shift slightly away once again, realising that the jury’s still out on physical violence, he slowly replies, “No, no, we’ve only been together for, like, two months, promise.”

You slump again, but shoot a venomous glare at Yoongi so he won’t lower his guard. “How old is she, even? And also, does Hoseok know about this?”

“28, and yes.”

“No fucking way,” you say, now in awe for a completely different reason. “She’s a division head before thirty?”

You regret it immediately, though, as Yoongi’s visage takes on a moony eyed expression. “Yeah, she’s really smart. Did her internship and online classes at the same time and skipped a grade in school.”

“Oh, ew, ew, okay fine, I understand. Stop doing that with your face, please,” you rattle off, completely disgusted by this ghastly display.

He’s about to say something, probably flattering because that always serves to soften you right up, when you hear the soft clearing of a throat. Both of you whip your heads in the direction of the sound comically fast to see Jennie at the end of the room near the foyer, phone in one hand and bag in the other. Immediately, the two of you stand up, although for different reasons.

It looks like she’s trying not to laugh as she says, “My ride's here, so I’ll let you guys get to dinner, yeah?”

“I’ll walk you out,” Yoongi immediately replies, taking on that tone that you’re quickly getting incredibly tired of.

Jennie nods with a wide smile, eyes crinkling on the sides as Yoongi gently places a hand on the small of her back once he reaches her. You try your best not to gag. You might be 22 years old with some reasonable amount of experience in the romantic field, but there are some things that you just do not need to see.

“See you at work, Y/N!” Jennie says. All you can manage is a half nod half bow, and ridiculously, you have to actively fight the urge to salute. You narrow your eyes as Yoongi lets out a snort at your actions that he quickly and not very convincingly tries to cover up with a cough, quickly ushering an amused Jennie towards the door.

An amused Jennie, you think, hardly daring to believe it, as you make your way back to the kitchen, determined to hold the chocolate cake ransom until he tells you more about Jennie. Only Jennie, mind you. Not Jennie and Yoongi. You wouldn’t want to touch that with a five-foot pole, not anytime soon, at least. But your mentor slash potential future boss alone, on the other hand, seems really fucking cool right about now.

“I’m telling you nothing. If I have to wait for a week to get a reply, you can wait a couple more minutes to see him for yourself.”

You scowl at Tae, holding your tongue from reminding him that replying to a stupid cat video ranks much lower on the urgency scale than being armed with some semblance of information about his new business partner that you and Jungkook are going to be meeting in five minutes.

Next to you, Jungkook snickers and says in a sing-song voice, “I told you so.”

Tae continues fixing you with that obstinate glare, lips wrapped around the bright, red straw jutting out of his plastic cup filled with something that’s probably too edgy and expensive to taste good. Like everything else on this menu.

When he had sent the address to the two of you, you had exchanged one of those looks, one of those only half-joking Can he pay our rent? looks and immediately started planning lunch at home before going for lunch at this...cafe? Restaurant? Bistro? Either way, the hard, wooden table in front of you looks more comfortable than the tall stool you’re sat on and the drink you’re nursing that was advertised as coffee tastes more like mud water mixed with cheap fertiliser.

The stool opposite you, next to Tae, remains empty as you all wait for this dude that you have absolutely zero information about. It'd be nice to be prepared, is all.

“While we’re waiting,” Jungkook starts, voice pleased at the stand off that’s happening in front of him. Always a slut for drama, that one. “Did Y/N tell you that Yoongi’s dating her boss?”

Tae's eyebrow lifts higher as he lets the straw go with a pop before saying, “No, she didn’t. But I’m not surprised.”

“About her not telling you or about Yoongi dating her boss?”

“Both,” Tae replies to Jungkook’s question, fixing you with a stern glare.

Before you can defend yourself, and it'd be a mighty solid defence seeing as how you yourself found out less than twenty-four hours ago, Tae continues, “Yoongi's always had a thing for powerful women.”

Sputtering, eyes wide, you say, “But you don’t even know my brother!”

Next to you, Jungkook roars in laughter, coughing as he swallows his weird, green concoction. You don’t bother helping him. Let him choke.

“Jungkook’s told me enough about him. He seems cool. I don’t know how you’re both from the same family.”

As you huff and flip him off, Jungkook, who’s just managed to calm himself down, sets off again. You’re about to chide him for laughing at your misery when the bell atop the door you’re facing gives a happy little trill, admitting the fifth patron in as many minutes, and decidedly the most unexpected, terrifying and beautiful entrant so far.

You can’t explain what you do next. You can’t even say that Jungkook has the whole apartment brain cell because he’s hiccupping into his drink and looking incredibly stupid while doing it. But your first instinct when you see Jimin enter is to hiss, “Oh, fuck no,” under your breath, panic in your gaze as Tae looks at you in concern, before slipping off the stool and ducking under the table, hitting your head in the process.

Pain blooms across your temple, but you have no time to attend to it, as the next thing you know, you’re belatedly realising that Jimin knows Jungkook too, and however well concealed you are, the other man is doing nothing to seem inconspicuous. Summoning all your strength, you’re about to give a good, strong tug to Jungkook’s pant leg, hoping that that should be enough to get him down here too, when from above you, you hear Tae loudly saying, “Jimin! Over here!” and Jungkook giving a tiny ‘Hey, it’s Jimin!’

What the fuck?

From your vantage point, you can see a pair of white shoed feet turning and walking closer, the tall table giving you a lovely view right up to Jimin's black jean clad thighs. Your mind is running a mile a minute, wondering whether you can manage to crawl out towards the door without anybody noticing and maybe sneak back in once Jimin’s left.

Before you can make up your mind, eyes glued onto Jimin’s approaching feet, Jungkook’s head pops down next to yours, floppy hair blocking your line of sight. “You good down there? Comfy?”

With a sinking feeling, you realise there’s no escape now, Tae’s voice already giving a small whoop of welcome. You shove Jungkook’s head a bit, nudging at him to straighten so you have enough space to clamber out, plastering a smile on your face.

You pop up just as Jimin reaches the table fully, he and Tae with wide grins on their faces as they both turn towards you and Jungkook after their ‘Hey!’s.

He looks even prettier than he had yesterday at the badly lit studio, floppy hair being held back by a pair of shades perched atop his head and eyes crinkled in what you now think is a permanent smile. You feel your fake grin morphing into something softer, more genuine as he tells Tae, “You didn’t tell me your friends were Y/N and Kook!”

Tae's befuddled expression is a sight to behold as you, Jungkook and Jimin continue beaming at each other in pleasant surprise. Vaguely, you think this should worry you more, your sudden, absolute lack of panic obviously a sign of insanity. But, honestly, you think you’re fine. Apart from the whole first reaction is to hide under the table thing.

Your heart might be beating a little faster than its resting rate, and your palms may be a bit clammy, but emotionally, it suddenly feels quite easy to be around him once you’ve seen how comfortingly familiar his dimples are.

“So, you’re Tae's business partner?”

“Yup,” Jimin nods as he pushes his stool closer to the table to get comfortable. “Small world, huh?”

Jungkook nods, knee bouncing excitedly next to yours as he takes a sip of his drink, grimacing after. “Definitely,” he replies through a wince.

Your own coffee sits in front of you, untouched after that first sip. Your gaze moves a little forward and gets momentarily caught on the silver bracelet on Jimin’s wrist.

“Where are you staying?” you ask, more to prove to yourself that you can say something without embarrassing yourself, because you know that Jimin saw your little escapade and he’s just too nice to bring it up, but Jungkook and Tae won’t be quite so forgiving when they interrogate you later.

“I’ve rented a studio apartment for now,” he replies, scanning the drinks menu in front of him. You wish him luck finding something good.

“How’s Yoongi? Still plays basketball?” Jimin asks, once he’s wisely decided to not order anything.

“He's dating Y/N's boss,” Jungkook says before you can respond, still, for some unfathomable reason, drinking his sludge-in-a-cup.

“Is that...is that a problem?”

“No, Y/N's just really scared of her. Like super wimpy when she’s around.”

Your whiny protest is halted by Jimin replying thoughtfully, “I’m kinda not surprised. I vaguely remember Yoongi dating that really intense emo girl once all those years ago. I see his type hasn’t changed.”

Huffing as Jungkook snickers and Jimin gives you a teasing grin that makes your stomach give a weak flop (which will be analysed later), you decisively say, “Yoongi’s fine. He lives here too and runs a tattoo place with Jin, the super tall dude who used to be over at my house all the time. And I’m not that scared of my boss.”

“Oh! Jennie, let me get that for you. Oh, of course, Jennie, I’ll do anything you ask, I’m so far up your ass – Ouch!”

Your foot makes contact with Jungkook’s shin, effectively stopping his disgustingly high pitched, incredibly inaccurate imitation of you, but does nothing to prevent your breath from slightly catching as Jimin giggles at his antics.

The perfectly pleasant, three-way tête-à-tête is interrupted by the loud sound of palms hitting the wooden table as Tae, whom you’re amused to say you had forgotten about, whips his head between all three of you, looking completely bewildered.

“Why are you all talking like you know each other?”

“I don’t know if I feel like telling you,” you reply, feeling vindictive at his betrayed expression. Now he knows.

Jungkook’s tight lipped next to you, sulking like the child he is and periodically bending down to rub his leg entirely too times to be warranted.

Jimin, on the other hand, looks curious as well as he asks, “I actually wanted to find out, too. How do you guys know Tae?”

Of course, you’ll answer him.

“He and Kook went to the same college. I, unfortunately, know him by association. How do you know Tae?”

“High school. We ran in the same circles.”

On noticing his business partner's annoyed expression next to him, Jimin continues with a faux-curious voice, bending forward on the table, leaning on his elbows so he can pretend to be interested, “How do you know Kook?”

You ignore the shiver that runs down your spine at the intensity of his eye contact, however playful it may be, in favour of aiding and abetting this mission of How Annoyed Can We Make Taehyung Today by replying, “Oh, twelve years of schooling together. What about you, how do you know Kook?”

Thoughtfully humming, he’s about to respond, but he’s interrupted by Tae saying in an annoyed voice, “Jungkook, if you answer my question, I’ll pay for your lunch.”

The response comes almost too quickly, but you can hardly blame him. Shit's expensive. “We all used to be best friends here until Jimin moved away right before middle school.”

“Oh, that’s wild,” Tae says thoughtfully, shooting you a smug look at having procured the information that you were withholding.

You all order food and conversation pauses as you, Jungkook and Jimin poke around in your meals, looking for something that appears edible, contrary to Tae, who seems perfectly content chewing mouthful after mouthful of bland celery and olives.

“Do you guys have a location for the store yet?” you ask, trying to spear a half-cooked pasta piece on your fork.

“We settled on a building yesterday! It’s pretty, lots of light and air, some good backroom space too.”

“And our first shipment's arriving in a few weeks,” Jimin adds, eyeing his plate suspiciously, as if the burger's going to eat him.

“We just need models now,” Tae nods, satisfied and leaning back on his chair, squeaky clean plate in front of him.

Jungkook seems to be trying very, very hard to not look at his salad as he eats it, and after what appears to be a very painful swallow, he asks, “Aren't you guys doing the modelling?”

And suddenly, the thought of Jimin smouldering in front of a camera rushes into your mind. You really wish this place had some normal fucking water instead of the herbed shit that’s there in the glass bottle at the centre of the table, because you really could do with some cooling down.

Once Tae's clarified that yes, they will be modelling their products but they also need a female model for that clientele, you clear your throat and ask, nonchalantly enough, toying with your fork, “Have – uh, do you have modelling experience, Jimin? Did you do some stuff in college, like Tae?”

“Oh, nothing big or official. Just a couple of shoots for a few showcases and helping out a friend who majored in photography.”

“He’s being modest,” Tae grins, all Cheshire like. “I’ve seen his photos, they’re really fucking good. If our products weren’t already so great, he would’ve been able to save them.”

Half of you wants so, so bad to see these pictures, to see him looking into the camera like he’s staring into your soul, but you think you’re maybe better off watching his blushing face and crinkling eyes, covering his flush with two hands, peeking through the gaps between short fingers.

You don’t realise you’re staring until you feel Jungkook giving you a tiny pinch on your arm, unseen by the others. Hurriedly busying yourself with the food in front of you once again, edibleness be damned, you push those thoughts away, grounding yourself with the solemn reminder that you have work the next day, Hoseok's warning glaring in your mind.

The rest of the afternoon goes smoothly enough, Jungkook letting out a crow of victory on seeing how expensive his dish was (because this is one of those places that’s too edgy for prices on the menu) and that he wouldn’t have to pay for it. There’s a momentary panic that sets in when you’re leaving, as Jimin goes in for a hug when your hand is still up in a wave, but you get out of it unscathed enough, only slightly embarrassed.

Tae : please?

No.

Tae : i'll pay for your petrol

As much as I love your money, no. Now stop bothering me, I’m almost at work.

Tae : ugh fine. but is there anybody you know instead? that girl who came for yours and kook's housewarming? hyerin something

...Hyejin.

Tae : yes her! could you ask her, please please please?

Will you pay for my meal the next time we go out?

Tae : only if you don’t pull a kook on me and order the most expensive thing on the menu

I can work with that. I’ll talk to her today.

Tae : okay thanks lylyly, let me know by the end of the day!

Snorting, you switch off your phone just as Hoseok pulls into the car park. Surreptitiously, you look around, searching for a familiar sleek black sedan.

“She won't be here yet. Always a little late on Mondays.”

You ignore his knowing look in favour of twisting around to get your bag as you huff and reply, “You don’t even know what I’m looking for.”

“Oh, Yoongi told me everything. I don’t know why I keep missing all these moments between you and Jennie, they sound like such fun.”

Feeling partly relieved that you won’t have be having a super awkward interaction with your boss slash brother’s girlfriend first thing in the morning and partly resentful that Hoseok was able to read you so easily, you half heartedly scowl up at him as the two of you walk towards the glass doors.

“How was your weekend?” he asks, pushing the elevator buttons. The lobby is mostly empty right now, nobody else waiting with you for the lift that’s currently on the topmost floor.

Dryly, you reply, “Oh, has Yoongi not told you everything about it yet?”

At his exasperated look, you respond again. “It was whatever. Dance class, dinner with Yoongi, the shocking, life altering revelation that he's dating my boss, the usual. Oh, and you remember Jimin?”

“The kid you used to hang out with all the time in elementary school?”

“Yup. He’s moved back. Opening that clothing store with Tae.”

He hums in distracted interest as the both of you watch the elevator come closer to the ground floor, stepping on as it dings.

The doors are about to shut close when you hear a hassled ‘Just a moment, please!’ from outside, and on instinct, you press the button to keep the elevator open. Not a moment later, Kim Jennie slips into view, and enters the lift with a polite ‘Thank you,’ the very picture of professionalism.

The universe has started its meddling early today.

You and Hoseok shuffle backwards, making space for her as you catch his gleeful eyes. As the doors shut and she presses the button to the seventh floor, you can feel the familiar stifling awkwardness that always seems to appear when she’s around, only now it’s ten times worse.

You’re certain the lift has never moved this slowly before, but Jennie makes no sign of saying anything to you and you sure as hell aren’t going to bring shit up. But the same can’t be said of Hoseok, apparently.

He clears his throat, absently looking at the numbers moving on the display on the top of the elevator doors, and you shoot him a suspicious glance, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Conversationally, he asks, “How’s your brother doing, Y/N?”

You could murder him, you really could.

Eyes darting between Jennie's straight back and Hoseok's slightly shaking shoulders, you shortly grit out, “Fine.”

And then, just when the door finally opens and you’re determining whether he’s an important enough employee to be missed very terribly, you catch sight of a tiny, amused smile of Jennie's face as she walks out of the lift first.

It throws you off enough to let Hoseok go without any lasting damage, only breaking out of your shock when you notice Hyejin walking towards you, annoyed look on her face. In a flash, you remember your promise to Tae. Hyejin must be kept happy and agreeable and susceptible. If not, you’re doomed to be the newest face of the VMin Experience (because it isn’t something as basic as a store). Tae just has to offer to pay for a couple more things and you’re a goner.

“Four fucking emails. The office isn’t even fully open yet and I have four codes to debug before lunch already. Fuck product rolling week.”

This is for Tae. This is so I don’t make a fool of myself on camera.

With as sweet a grin as you can muster, you reply, “Why don’t you send me half of them? I can finish it up for you.”

It doesn’t have quite the effect that you’re hoping for. Instead of simpering and agreeing and giving you one of her trademark million-watt smiles, full of gratitude and good cheer, all she does is narrow her eyes suspiciously.

“Why do I feel like you have some ulterior motive to this?”

“No! No ulterior motive, I promise. Just wanted to make things a bit simpler for you. Can I not want my closest friend to be relaxed?”

She regards you for a moment, beady eyed. Apparently deciding that you sound legitimate enough, she slowly takes out her phone and forwards two emails to you.

“Fine, but only because I’ve just been sent on a coffee run and Namjoon’s drink always takes too long to make.”

“Of course,” you reply, nodding genially as you hear a ping from your pocket. And then for good measure, you summon the lift for her, holding the door open as she steps in, smile plastered on until the doors shut on her sceptical eyes.

Tae : have u asked her yet

It’s been two minutes since we made this agreement.

Tae : so that’s a yes?

It’s an I’m-working-on-it. If you keep asking me every two minutes, I’m blocking you.

Tae : hope you aren’t planning on convincing hyejin with that sunny attitude

Fuck off.

You thank your cab driver as you exit the vehicle, watching with slight regret as he drives away. Might have been useful to have a getaway car.

Product rolling week is not, in fact, an entire week. It apparently runs only until Friday morning, after which all of you get a let-off, leading to a fake, watered down excuse of a three-day weekend.

And if it were up to you, right now on said Friday evening, you’d be curled up under covers after an early dinner (like 6 PM early), with a cup of tea and a good book, doing your damnedest to forget the just completed week from hell and mentally preparing for two, glorious, work-free days.

But no. You have no book with you. No blankets and pillows and no warm tea. All you have is Uber surge pricing and the building that you’re standing in front of that reads The VMin Experience on a small, wooden, obviously work-in-progress board.

You opt to watch from the outside for a bit, looking into the store through the glass. They’ve got two mannequins up already, one dressed in street fashion with a backwards snapback and the other in a whole ball gown, pearl string necklace included. It’s an experience, alright. Squinting, you can make out a wall that still has plastic wrap up and a ladder with a few stools, paint cartons on the floor. The store seems empty, but the message from Hyejin on your phone reads ‘COME TO THE BACK ROOM!!!’.

Casting one last, rueful look at the street, you sigh and push the door open, immediately hit by the smell of turpentine and varnish and general construction work. There are golden track lights fixed on beams from the ceiling illuminating a few naked mannequins on the floor and you pick your way through the newspapers to reach the door behind the payment counter.

The first thing you see is Jungkook speaking into his phone held in one hand and holding up an umbrella stand with the other. Then you notice Tae crouching, camera held up to his eyes, shutter clicking as he focuses away from you. You observe as Hyejin does her smoulder-smile-pout routine that fills her Instagram feed and shoot a quick thank you to the universe that she had agreed so easily to doing this shoot. There’s no way you could have done what she’s doing now without spontaneously combusting.

In the corner of the room, there’s a clothes rack pushed right up to the wall, filled with hangers and sample clothing that they’re modelling right now. You see it jiggle a bit and realise with a start that there’s somebody changing on the other side. And it doesn’t take a genius to realise who the somebody is.

At the sound of your shoes scuffing the floor, there’s a temporary halt in the proceedings as Tae turns around and says, “Oh, finally. Move that light a bit closer. This is a bitch to do alone and Jimin’s taking too long to change.”

You'd linger a bit longer on the offense that you’re feeling at being ordered about like this, but Jimin’s head pops up from behind the stands at that moment as he replies with a grunt, “This outfit has too many fucking layers, I’m stuck,” and suddenly, as you’re assaulted by a hint of his clavicle, the annoyed pout on his face and the disgruntlement in his eyes that morphs into happiness as he notices you, any and all displeasure you feel at Tae's tone flies right out the window.

You wave shakily in response, watching with a tinge of sadness as he disappears back down, only for Tae to huff and say, “Okay, Y/N, new plan. Go help Jimin with that outfit. I’m finished, Hyejin’s almost done. Just Jimin’s last shot and we can wrap up.”

You wonder what kind of expression you’re sporting at Tae's demand. Something between shock, fear and a weird, perverted, refusing-to-be-tamped-down sense of glee. Either way, you have no choice as he just goes back to photographing Hyejin, who slips right back in to model mode after giving you a big, cheery wave. Jungkook only fixes you with an apologetic sort of look as he continues to talk into his phone and move the umbrella the way he’s asked to.

He’s recently taken to dictating his novel instead of typing it out, and it’s led to you waking up at ungodly hours in the middle of the night on hearing Jungkook curse after stubbing his toe while pacing, talking into either his phone or his laptop. As a software professional, you’re glad. As somebody who quite enjoys sleeping, not so much.

When you hear another grunt from behind the clothes hanger, you’re forced into action, dropping your bag next to Jungkook’s work sling on the floor before calming your nerves with a deep breath and making your way towards the corner.

You stop right in front of the rack, gaze firmly fixed on an invisible point on the recently painted, smooth, grey wall, a few inches above your eye level. Teetering on the balls of your feet, you slowly ask, “Uh, Jimin? Do you need any help?”

Please say no, please say no, please say no. Don’t do this to me.

“Ugh, yes, please. That’d be great. You’ll have to come in through the clothes though, just move some hangers around.”

Thanks a fucking lot.

With another deep breath, you hesitantly pluck at the hanger right in front of you that’s holding a black, sequined jumpsuit that you’d probably think of buying if you hadn’t known that The VMin Experience has luxury brand pricing. Maybe if you take long enough, Jimin will be able to figure it out himself.

“Uh, Y/N? I can’t move my hands.”

No point in holding out for a hope then.

Internally sighing in acceptance of your fate, you push the hanger to the side so you can step in through the ensuing gap.

You’re greeted by the sight of your ex-best friend's naked, taut back, his arms stuck upright in a weird angle above his head, pale blue shirt stretched across his elbows and multiple white silk straps trailing out from it towards the floor.

You can’t look away from it, from the back of his neck to his shoulders, eyes trailing down until they reach the small of his back, centre of his tapering waist, and the moment you notice that he’s wearing tight, black, leather pants, you suddenly feel very warm. It’s a cramped space, and you’re covered on all sides by two walls and a tall, diagonally placed clothes rack, and the awareness that you’re so close to him, and that he’s hardly decently clothed, and that he has the prettiest fucking neck hits you like a truck loaded with arrow wielding baby cupids.

“Were you able to get in? I can’t tell, I’m afraid I’ll fall if I try turning around.”

His voice echoes in the closed space, making the privacy and proximity even more prominent, and it’s an effort to keep your voice from shaking with nerves and breathlessness as you reply, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m here. How do you want me to help?”

“Let me just turn around, give me a second. I think a thread's caught on my finger, if you could just – Oh, fuck.”

It’s instinctive, how your arms shoot out in alarm as he nearly topples over in his attempt to shuffle around, your hands landing on his waist as you straighten him, helping him regain his balance. The moment he seems stable and not a second later, you tug your burning limbs back, memory of his soft, warm skin seemingly permanently embedded in your fingertips.

He can’t see you, a random flap on the front of the shirt hanging over his eyes, and it’s probably for the best given your wide eyed, terrified expression. There’s a flush beginning at the base of your neck and rapidly climbing up, and it distantly annoys you. It’s not like you’re the one who’s half-nude and momentarily blinded.

“Okay, so if you could just untangle that strap near my finger, I think it should be fine. I just need to be able to move my elbows.”

You stop staring at the tiny litter of moles on the right side of his waist with a start, rushing into action, belatedly and furiously realising that your mouth is open and likely has been ever since you entered this holy sanctum of inadvertent porn.

Taking a tiny step closer to his frame, you lightly stand on the balls of your feet so you can begin extracting him from the fabric. He stands silently, but this close, you can feel his steady breath on the side of your head as you deliberately concentrate on getting the shirt across his elbows. You try your hardest to not touch his skin, but it’s difficult when the cloth is this tangled, and at one point, your pinkie finger ends up twisted around his, and in a flash, you’re transported to a decade ago, when the two of you had linked fingers in his backyard and solemnly promised each other that neither of you would ever, ever kiss somebody, because kissing is disgusting and gives disease.

You feel a squeeze around your finger and you flinch. From behind his makeshift veil, you hear Jimin chuckle before softly saying, “I remember it too.”

Trembling, you give a tiny quirk of your lips that is, in theory, a grin, but probably more of a grimace in execution, before you hurriedly move on. You ignore his small hands, the bracelets on his wrist, his breathy giggle as your fingers accidentally brush against the inside of his elbow, the bumpy patch of mosquito bites on his shoulder as you undo the messy loops that the straps have managed to wind themselves into.

Before you can step away, the fabric falls, revealing his face and a relieved grin, teasingly, nerve-wrackingly close to your own.

You clear your throat, rapidly stepping away, looking anywhere but at him.

“Thanks, Y/N!” he says cheerily, tying the straps at the wrist together, as you obstinately refuse to drink in the perfect way the problematic outfit fits his body that you’ve seen entirely too much of.

“No problem,” you mumble, and you’re surprised yourself at how steady your voice comes out. “Anything else I can do for you here?”

A cheeky grin followed by, “Nothing, unless you want to watch me take my pants off.”

You chuckle along with him, blocking out any and all images that your mind is conjuring as you hurriedly step away from him, ducking out from under the hangers and reappearing on the much cooler, much larger and much more oxygen-rich other side.

As you move the light around the way Tae asks you to, absently looking at Hyejin finishing up and Jungkook closing his phone with a satisfied expression, you force yourself to relax, to slow your breathing, to ignore the rustle behind you as Jimin comes through and steps in front of the camera.

You can hardly hold a decent conversation with Jungkook and Hyejin as the three of you eat dinner together at a café nearby once the shoot is over, only supplying miscellaneous hmm's and haw's as they discuss the dance competition at BigHit. It’s a small, saving grace that ensures that Jimin and Tae stayed behind to do some decorating instead of joining you. You can’t imagine just how much more you can take of these annoying, bodily reactions every time Jimin even breathes in your general direction, and you refuse to analyse them now.

“Are you alright? You’ve been sort of quiet today,” Jungkook softly asks later as the two are walking home, streetlamps casting shadows in front of you.

“Fine,” you reply, waving away his concern. “Tired, that’s all.”

He doesn’t let up. “Hyejin said you were a bit jaded while leaving the office today morning. You’re sure you’re okay?”

You run with it. It’s easier than explaining that you haven’t been able to stop thinking about the half-naked form of the third best friend of your little group from elementary school. “Yeah, I had a bit of a headache. Long week.”

“Well, it’s over now!” he says cheerily, ever the optimist. “And there's dance class tomorrow, that should be fun.”

Not if it goes anything like last week’s class, when you met Jimin for the first time in more than a decade.

You manage a small smile and he takes it, probably thinking you’re still exhausted from work, turning back to face the pavement.

“Y/N.”

“Kook.”

“Y/N.”

With an annoyed huff, you let yourself fall onto the couch behind you as Jungkook promptly does the same. His phone is open in his hands, email from BigHit open on his screen. You hadn’t bothered to read the body after seeing the subject, but apparently, Jungkook wasn’t so dismissive.

“Come on, there’s prize money. Prize money. How is this not enticing you further?”

“I haven’t danced properly in four years, Kook. And that money’s only if you win.”

“So we'll practice! Remember how well we used to dance together in those high school showcases? And how much fun you used to have? Do you remember, Y/N? Do you remember what fun is?”

He gets a little intense by the end of it and you respond with a flick to his forehead, the most you can manage in your still sleepy, exhausted haze. Both of you are tired, him from class and you from the long, sleepless night you had spent tossing and turning and willing away flashing images of bare backs and white straps and stupid giggles and tiny fingers.

And Jungkook thinks he can convince you to participate in Boom along with him when you’re in this condition.

“Why can’t you ask Hyejin?”

Absently rubbing the tender spot on his forehead that your finger had satisfyingly connected with, he doesn’t let up, only fixing you with a pleading look that you’d be more susceptible to if you haven’t been on the receiving end of it a million times before.

“Hyejin’s going solo.”

“Oh, so I’m a last resort?”

He sputters and you watch, satisfied, thinking he'll give up now, but he’s nothing if not stubborn, only scrambling momentarily before he shoves his phone insistently in your face.

“How are you so sure we'll lose?” he demands. “And even if we do – don’t look at me like that, – it isn’t that big of a deal! It’ll be fun, please? Now that you have some free time and I’ve at least got a vague sense of where I want my book to go? The competition’s three weeks away, that’s a lot of time.”

You know you have no choice but to agree once he’s given his little speech. You’re teetering at the edge of a decision when he opens his mouth again, excited look on his face.

“And we'd probably end up bumping into Jimin more!”

Shields up, defensively, you ask, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Confused, he replies, “We haven’t spoken to him properly yet, yeah? And we’re all so busy during the week that we haven’t had a chance to catch up since we found out he’s back.”

Relaxing a bit, you say, “Oh! Oh, yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll do it.”

But Jungkook doesn’t seem entirely convinced. A shrewd look overtakes his face, eyes narrowing in a suspicious expression that you’re not entirely fond of. Slowly, he asks, “Why? What did you think I meant?”

“Nothing! Anyway, I’m gonna go shower. We can start practice tomorrow and all my evenings are free next week!”

You ramble it all out in a rush, some unknown energy appearing as you jump off the couch and leave the room rapidly. Behind you, you can hear Jungkook mumbling in confusion, but pleased nonetheless as he registers both your names for the competition.

You wonder if you’ll be able to get through a single conversation ever about Jimin without your stomach erupting in dread and awkwardness and terrifying fear. And more importantly, you wonder how long you’ll be able to avoid it and how long you’ll be able to hide it from your shockingly perceptive roommate. When his head isn’t stuck inside the washing machine or under restaurant tables.

“Oh, it’s been too long since we did this last,” Hyejin says as she tops up your glass with some dollar store wine, setting the bottle on the centre table before she leans back on the couch, her own glass held precariously as she folds her pyjama clad legs under her, head propped up by an arm resting on the back as she faces you eagerly.

You respond with an agreeing nod as you take a sip of your second glass, cross-legged on the other end of her sofa.

“Now,” she begins, all business-like, and it immediately puts you on edge. “Are you going to tell me why you didn’t come for class today morning?”

Shrugging as nonchalantly as you can, you reply, “I over slept. Recovering from the week, I think.”

And from Jimin, a traitorous voice in your head adds. You impatiently shoo it away. You aren’t going to tell her that you woke up with your alarm, came as far as taking a shower and wearing your leggings, even began to pack your bag, before being faced by the possibility of meeting Jimin today. You can’t tell her that you chickened out at the last minute and when Jungkook knocked on your door, asking if you were ready to leave, you had faked a headache and decided to stay in. You can’t tell her that you’re avoiding your childhood best friend because he’s too fucking pretty and too fucking sweet and invokes too many bloody emotions in you that you prefer to circumvent, still not having registered them yourself.

She nods shortly, but her voice remains uncertain as she asks, “Are you sure? You did seem a bit shaken yesterday after the shoot yesterday.”

You wave away her questions dismissively. “Yes, yes, I’m fine, promise.”

She drops it, taking another slow sip. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

The two of you drink in silence for a bit, only sounds being the occasional slurp and the knocking of glass against teeth.

“Are you participating in Boom?”

Scowling, you reply, “I have been strong armed into doing so, yes.”

She grins at you over her glass as she takes a sip, “Jungkook asked me if I wanted to be his partner today. When I told him to just ask you, he got kinda squinty eyed. I think he knew you were going to put up a fight.”

Flattered about your reputation, you give a short, satisfied nod before you ask, “Is BigHit letting participants use their rooms for practice?”

“Oh, Taemin told us about all that today. All rooms are full on weekday evenings and weekend mornings. Every other time is free.”

You feel your stomach sink. You’ll be the first to admit that this wasn’t your preferred choice of activity for the next three relatively easy, work wise, weeks, but now that you’ve committed, you want to win, godammit.

She gives you a sympathetic grin, patting your knee. “I know, those are the only free slots we’ve got. But what're you gonna do?” she shrugs.

“We'll have to find a place. Maybe we'll just move around some furniture in the living room.”

Again, you both relapse into silence, thinking about how to make it work. Slowly, a tiny frown appears on Hyejin's face, the kind that she gets when she’s just thought of a possible way to get rid of an error in a code but isn’t sure if it'll work without fucking up some other section of the program.

“You could ask Tae and Jimin if you can use their shop,” she slowly says, looking at you unsurely.

Even as your heartbeat picks up, you fight to keep your face placid as she continues, “Like, I know it’s new and shit, and it’s their baby and all that, but it’s roomy enough. It isn’t like you’re both gonna go wreck the room by dancing. And that back room that we used last night for the shoot, that could work!”

She looks at you, waiting for an answer. You buy some time, contorting your expression in one of contemplation as you lean forward to refill your glass, but inside, you feel like you’re warring with yourself.

It’s a pretty good idea!

But Jimin.

They aren’t opening the shop for two more weeks!

But Jimin.

It’s not like they’re gonna say no!

But Jimin.

“I’ll talk to Jungkook about it,” you say, keeping your voice level, settling for the most diplomatic and inconspicuously evasive answer you can manage.

She nods, content with your reply as she leans back. You mindlessly make your way through your glass, once again, annoyingly, caught up with thoughts that don’t bear thinking about, when her downturned phone on the coffee table in front of the couch pings with an alert.

It’s always shocked you that you know somebody who doesn’t permanently keep their phone on silent or vibrate, but you can’t dwell on it for too long.

“Taehyung just sent me the photos from yesterday!”

Fuck.

Her excitement is infectious, though, as she clambers closer to you, grinning eagerly, phone tilted so you can see the screen loading. You place your glass on the table before leaning back comfortably, cushion on your lap and heart in your mouth. Best not to be holding delicate items when you see this.

Distantly, you wonder whether you can make a quick getaway, or come up with a believable excuse in such short notice. You had sort of envisioned yourself being alone when you saw Jimin's pictures. Last night, after the...emotional debacle, you had studiously not looked at him for the remainder of the shoot, only moving around the light when you were asked to, gaze stuck on the ground or trading funny expressions with Jungkook across the room. Your goodbye had been perfunctorily cordial, steps consciously measured as you walked out, skin burning at the memory of the hug he had left you with.

Are you excited to see Hyejin’s and Tae's photos? Yes.

Can the same be said of Jimin’s? Not out loud.

You shoot a quick prayer up, although you’re beginning to quickly lose whatever meagre amount of faith you once had, just as the screen finishes loading, tiny thumbnails appearing.

You squeeze your hand in a fist, preparing for the worst as Hyejin opens the top image. Irrational as it is, you curse Tae for putting Jimin’s photos first as you’re assaulted (blessed?) by the dancer looking somewhere to the left of the camera, body languidly, precisely positioned with all the elegance and strength that comes when he’s on stage, deliberately supercilious pout playing on his lips, eyebrow cocked in a challenge to whoever’s in the background.

Nothing big or official, my ass.

Photo after photo flashes in front of you as you take in his smug smirk in one, his hip jutting out sideways in another, his fingers partway through running them through his hair, him in the middle of a giggle that you can hear, eyes shining, dimple popping. Distantly, as you greedily drink in the white straps dripping from his outfit as he smoulders, looking like an ethereal dream, you realise that you don’t want the pictures to stop.

You don’t pay attention to how obvious you’re being until you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder, pulling you out of the map you’re tracing with your eyes along Jimin’s neck, and with a start, you notice that you’ve been looking at the same image for nearly half a minute.

You shut your mouth abruptly at the expression on Hyejin’s face as she looks at you, head tilted. The silence is heavy, pregnant as you try to find some way to get out of this mess.

“Y/N,” she slowly starts, caution in her voice as she lowers the phone before you can say anything.

Not meeting her eyes, you squeak out, “Yes?”

She doesn’t say anything at first, only surveying you with that same, scrutinising, unsettling expression as you carefully retrieve your half-full glass, everything on edge.

“Something you’d like to say?”

“No, not really.”

She just hums in response, bringing the phone back up to go to the next lot of photos, these of Tae. She drops the conversation there, but you’re under no allusions as to what she’s figured out and what she hasn’t. The faint blush on your cheeks should be indication enough, if your blatant ogling wasn’t. All she does is give you a gleeful, knowing look, one that’s full of significance and that reads ‘I know what this is about, but I won’t make you talk about it now because you look like you’re about to shit a brick,’ before she clears her throat and continues scrolling through the photos.

You’re apprehensive as you do the same, leaning back to your previous position and casting a dubious sideways glance at her, but all she does is roll her eyes and say, “You think too much.”

Real genius, that one.

Either way, you’re grateful she doesn’t bring it up then. Or later, when you’re both eating ramen out of the pot as Seinfeld plays on the television. Or even in the dark, when you’re both about to fall asleep, because the older you’ve gotten, the more you’ve begun to truly appreciate the sleep part of sleepovers. The next morning, as she’s waving you away at the door, the only indication she gives that she even remembers the conversation is a wink and a ‘Don’t worry.’

She should become a therapist, what with all her golden wisdom.

“Come again?”

Exasperated, you sigh before you obediently repeat, kicking your feet up on the counter and leaning back languidly on the rolling chair, “Jungkook’s late.”

Yoongi looks at you suspiciously as he repeatedly pokes your shin to get you to remove your shoes from his precious work station. “But Jungkook’s never late. That’s your thing.”

Scowling, you impatiently swat his hand away as you reply, “Yes, I know. But he got held up at work.”

He gives up, resigning himself to moving the needles away to keep them safe from your pivoting feet. “I keep telling him he should quit. What kind of company makes their employees stay this late on a Friday evening?”

“Luxury magazines for affluent readers,” you respond, your fingers up in air quotes. “Either way, if his novel does well, he’s out.”

Infuriatingly predictably, you had chickened out of asking Tae and Jimin about using their store for practice. And Jungkook hadn’t even thought about it, which was great. In fact, you hadn’t spoken to Jimin the entire week. You wouldn’t go so far as to say you had been avoiding him, but twice, when Jungkook had tried getting the three of you together ‘like the old times', you had lied about having office work, despite the fact that this had been the most relaxing week in your intern life so far.

The past four weeknights were spent in your new practice studio: the backroom in Yoongi’s tattoo parlour. You wouldn’t say it's the most ideal of spots for multiple reasons.

One of them being that every time you’re late (read: every evening so far), Jungkook and Yoongi have a jolly good time talking shit about you. You’d think your roommate and your brother would hold some amount of love and respect, but when you had entered the room on Monday evening at 7:15 PM, they were compiling a lovely list of Top Ten Times Y/N Has Embarrassed Herself In Public. And they didn’t even have the gall to seem sheepish. Jungkook had just looked at your scowl with an amused grin and Yoongi had said, “If you’re late tomorrow, we're going to make one for the number of times you’ve whined about something stupid.”

And then on Tuesday evening, when you had dawdled for too long around the corner, trying to decide between having dinner before or after practice (and eventually settling on skipping the meal entirely), you had entered the shop at 7:21 PM, only to see Jennie and Jungkook engaged in a wonderful conversation about God knows what, all smiles and ‘Nice to meet you!’s. You were stuttering through your customary, “Oh! Hel – hi!” with Jungkook snickering in the background when Yoongi came out from the back, tossed you the keys and told you to lock up, and then swept a very bemused Jennie out the front door.

Wednesday was fun, in that Yoongi was busy with a late appointment and you and Jungkook made some headway, but on Thursday, Hobi decided to sit in, so it ended up being two hours of ‘What are you doing with your hands?’ and ‘Make it look natural, guys,’ as he and Yoongi traded sips from the emergency whiskey flask that your brother keeps in the shop.

And now, 7:30 PM, Friday evening. Two weeks left for the competition and you and Jungkook have been getting on fairly well, better than you had anticipated. If only he'd show up.

You send him a message, deciding to call him if he doesn’t reply in the next ten minutes, when you hear a polite knock on the door. Confused, you look at Yoongi with a tilt of your head. Jin’s out of town, Hobi doesn’t knock and Jungkook sure as hell doesn’t knock. He looks just as bewildered as you, letting go of the tattoo pen he was in the process of arranging and slowly walking towards the door. A louder, more urgent knock comes and you let your feet fall on the floor with a thud as Yoongi hastens to open it.

You hear the voice before you see the owner, nearly falling off your chair as you make a clear path to the sofa at the end of the room as Jimin and Yoongi carry a clearly unconscious Jungkook to it, laying him down as you rush behind them, worriedly asking the newcomer, feelings be damned, “What happened?”

“I was passing by when I saw him walk into a pole and fall down,” Jimin replies.

You don’t want to laugh, you really don’t, but as Yoongi sprinkles some water on your dance partner’s face and he slowly begins to stir, you can’t stop a simultaneously relieved and disbelieving giggle from erupting.

“He what?” you ask, calming down enough to kneel down on the floor, next to Yoongi, and look in awe at your roommate, marveling at his stupidity.

Jimin shrugs as he explains, “He was looking at his phone and just sort of walked into the pole. I didn’t know where to take him, but I remembered you saying something about your brother having a tattoo parlour somewhere here and figured I’d try my luck.”

“He weighs a ton. How did you carry him?” Yoongi asks as he adjusts Jungkook so he isn’t in danger of falling off.

“It wasn’t easy,” he replies. “What does he eat?”

“Protein mostly,” you respond, as Jungkook finally opens his eyes. You imagine it must be quite an experience for somebody to come back to consciousness and see three half-amused half-concerned faces swimming above them, but Jungkook handles it admirably.

“Wazza?” he blearily asks, drool slipping out the side of his mouth as he struggles to sit up.

The three of you back away, Yoongi handing him a bottle of water.

“You’re in my place. You fell outside. Jimin got you here.”

Jungkook gulps some water as he tenderly presses at the faintly purpling bruise right at the centre of his forehead. “Oh, thanks. Did I look cool?”

Jimin winces before replying. “You walked into a metal pole, so I’d say no.”

If your roommate were a normal, sane man, he’d be upset on receiving this news. At least slightly embarrassed. Not that his line of questioning had indicated anything even remotely resembling intelligence, but you’d think that at this point, he’d make up. But on the contrary, his glazed eyes clear up and a gleeful look overtakes his face.

“Do you think he has a concussion,” you mutter out of the side of your mouth to Jimin, as Jungkook opens his mouth to say something.

The giggle you get in response should not make you feel like prancing around in a field of roses and calling all humans your best friends.

“I remember why I was distracted! I got it!”

“Got what, a disease?”

For somebody who was recently unconscious, he’s capable of a great stink eye. You’re vaguely impressed.

“I got the next scene. Where’s my phone?”

Jimin moves towards the couch, pulling Jungkook’s mobile out of his back pocket and handing it to him. “Maybe don’t type while walking on the road next time,” he grins as he takes a seat next to him.

You hadn’t noticed Yoongi leaving the room, but he walks back in now with a bottle of fruit juice, speaking as he makes his way to the couch that the three of you are now sitting on, Jungkook feverishly going through a word document in the middle.

“This reminds me of when you all would come over and sit for hours on the couch in front of the television at home. Mom would give you all the snacks and then send me to do a grocery run at that corner shop the moment you left,” he says, fond smile on his lips as he gives Jungkook the bottle.

In a trice, that’s where you are, ten years old, Jungkook sitting wide eyed as you quickly got bored and kept changing channels because ‘This is my house, so I get to decide what we’re watching,’ and Jimin giggling ever so often at the miscellaneous cartoons you skimmed through.

“Shit, that couch was the best,” present Jimin sighs as he leans back on the seat, you and Jungkook nodding in agreement.

It’s easier to think of him that way. As your best friend of eight years that you shared all the drama and excitement and blown-out-of-proportion, self obsessed sadness that came with infancy, adolescence and preteen years, who left right before middle school, cutting your trio down to two. Maybe if he had left later, it wouldn’t be so hard to navigate him now, but you were all too young to keep in touch, and school and extra curriculars took over and now, seeing him after all these years, he’s just lying in that sweet spot between achingly familiar and unsettlingly different.

You don’t realise you’ve zoned out until Yoongi asks, “Do you guys still need the place for practice tonight or can I lock up?”

“Oh, I saw that you two were paired together in the sign-up form! Is this where you’re practicing?”

“Yup,” Jungkook replies, making sure his juice bottle is out of your reach. He’s probably noticed you eyeing it like a cat about to pounce for the last few seconds. “Where are you and Taemin practicing? Do you get extra BigHit room privileges?”

Jimin sighs a little, disappointed frown on his face that you realise, with a start, you want to kiss away. And then, belatedly, you wonder why you’re even surprised any more. “We had to drop out. Taemin got too busy with organising the competition and by the time he told me, it was too late to sign up as a solo performer.”

You can tell he’s upset, but he does an admirable job covering it up, pouted lips morphing in a wide smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he continues, “But I’m super excited to watch you guys on stage, though!”

All intentions of grabbing Jungkook’s bottle when he’s distracted fly out the window at the sympathy you feel. If that day, when you saw him dance in that practice room, is any indication, it can’t be easy for him to sit back and watch others on a stage participating in a competition he can win with his eyes closed.

“Oh, that sucks, man,” Jungkook says as you wrack your brain for something that sounds a little less hollow and a little more comforting. You come up empty and offer a sympathetic grimace, but somehow, you think he understands what you’re trying to convey. Like that secret code the three of you had, where vowels were consonants and consonants were vowels and everything had to be written upside down except every fifth letter, italics optional but preferred. You had a lot of time on your hands.

“You can watch us practice, though, maybe. And help out? You used to be the best at choreography,” Jungkook says with a grin, blindsiding you with his request.

“I’d love that!” Jimin responds, and you feel a thrill at how he doesn’t fake modesty, at the hint of cockiness that comes through in his voice.

Perhaps it’s the fact that Jungkook's just woken and the bruise on his forehead is only slightly lessening, or maybe that Yoongi’s right there, still waiting to find out if he should close up shop now or not and that he’s always been perceptive, but you force yourself to calm down. So what if Jimin watches you dance? You both went for class together for years. No biggie. Not worth giving your roommate another bruise.

“Can you dance now? Or do you want to just go home and continue tomorrow?” you ask, clutching at straws.

“I think I can dance, I feel fine. Fruit juice was great,” Jungkook says, making to get up.

“Yeah, Jennie got it from one of those organic stores she shops in,” Yoongi replies, nasty turtle dove making a reappearance.

You’re about to gag, or very pointedly look away, but before you can so much as decide on your method of conveying disgust, Jungkook, in the process of standing up, folds in on himself, knees buckling as he lets out a pained grunt. You, Jimin and Yoongi act on impulse, arms jerking out and catching him before he can fall, eyes wide with surprise and concern.

He settles back in his previous position and gingerly bends down, experimentally twisting his right ankle and hissing out a pained ‘Fuck.’

“I think it’s a sprain,” he winces, slowly moving it forward until another distressed flinch casts a shadow over his face.

Jimin bites his lip worriedly on Jungkook’s other side and you watch Yoongi help him slowly take off his shoes with a grimace.

“Y/N, there’s an ice pack in the mini fridge in my office.”

You don’t let him continue, only nodding as you swiftly rise after casting another anxious look at Jungkook, who’s looking everywhere but at his leg.

On your return, you see him lying face down on the couch, right foot propped over one arm rest as Yoongi says, “He must have fallen at a weird angle. It only seems like a sprain, but I don’t think he should dance.”

Jimin looks impressed as he watches Yoongi expertly place the ice pack in position and Jungkook huffs in simultaneous relief and disappointment.

“A million basketball injuries will do that to you,” you reply in answer to Jimin’s unasked question.

“What about the competition?” Jungkook whines.

You’re surprised to find the tinge of disappointment when you shrug and say, “We'll have to drop out. I’ll let Taemin know in class tomorrow and tell him to take us off the list.”

“But the choreography!”

Jimin steadies him as Jungkook slowly sits up, adjusting so he’s holding the ice pack, scandalised expression on his face as he looks at your drooped shoulders.

“Nothing we can do about it. Maybe we’ll try again next year.”

And then he gets that look. That expression that indicates that he’s thinking of an idea that’s good for him but sucky for you. Slowly, he swivels his head towards a confused Jimin sitting next to him before moving towards you, eyebrows scrunched, deep in thought. You can practically see the gears shifting in his head.

Warily, you ask, “Kook?”

His eyes are still narrowed and moving, but the frown slowly morphs into a small smile as he distractedly, instinctively replies to your question. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Is there...is there something on my face?” Jimin enquires, slowly backing away on the couch.

Only the cutest fucking pout I’ve ever seen in my life, your brain unhelpfully supplies.

Jungkook doesn’t directly answer, but finally begins to explain why he looks like an automated form of The Thinker, his grin slowly growing. “You guys could do it together.”

“Do what?” Jimin asks.

It, your permanently horny inner voice replies.

Out loud, you ask, “Kook, what are you talking about?”

“You guys can go for the competition together! Jimin can be your partner instead of me.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I don’t mind.”

You turn your determined, closed off face to Jimin’s calmly curious expression in astonishment.

“What?” you demand.

“I don’t mind,” he repeats, shrugging but cautious at your unexpected vehemence. “If you still want to perform and need a partner, I’d love to step in.”

Jungkook claps in glee as you continue staring, mouth opening and closing like a fish, but no sound coming out.

“Then it's settled!” he says before a shrewd expression overtakes his face, single eyebrow cocked as he looks at you with challenge in his eyes. “Unless...Y/N has objections?”

You’re caught facing the barrel of a loaded gun, Yoongi behind you, obviously already intrigued by your uncharacteristically passionate reaction, Jimin on the couch, pleasant smile playing on his face, eager with the thought of being given a chance to perform but not wanting to guilt you into anything and Jungkook, big brain Jungkook, disaster child Jungkook, waiting for you to make your decision. As soon as you see the small glint in his eyes, a niggling doubt emerges in your head about whether he’s managed to figure out your feelings before you’ve even accepted them yourself.

With an internal sigh, you plaster on a smile and reply, “Nope. No objections.”

Jungkook’s face clears, a brief flash of victory in his eyes before he beckons you closer, holding his right arm out for you to sling over your shoulder as he stands up.

Jimin gives you a satisfied grin, chuckling and taking your stupid roommate’s other arm as you nearly buckle under the weight.

“Thanks for taking care of me, Yoongi! How you and Y/N share the same blood, I’ll never know.”

Yoongi snickers, “You and me both, dude. Try not to put too much weight on your foot!”

And if you give a small pinch to the side of Jungkook’s waist where your hand is resting, that’s your business (and your satisfaction when you feel him flinch).

“Do you need any help getting him home?” Jimin asks as the three of you wait outside the building under the dark sky waiting for the cab to arrive.

You’re still reeling from the developments of the last few minutes, head terrified but heart perversely gleeful, and you don’t look directly at him when you reply, opting instead to direct your gaze at the little black dot on the map on your phone that indicates where the car is. “No, I can manage, thank you.”

Once Jungkook’s safely inside the car, Jimin doesn’t let you immediately follow suit, stopping you with a smile outside your roommate’s closed door before you can round the vehicle.

His body isn’t too close, but in your head, you run through the choreography that the two of you will be doing, and you know that that’s going to be far from true over the next two weeks.

“Hey, are you alright? You don’t have to dance with me if you don’t want to. You seemed a bit uncomfortable back there, when Kook suggested it.” He looks sheepish almost, but understanding, palm coming up to rub nervously at the back of his neck and other hand inside the pocket of his black jeans.

As he slightly rocks forward and back, you want to grab his face, bring them down to your level, look him the eye and tell him, equally stern and emotional, that he has occupied so much of your mind for the last week and that if there’s anybody here who should be unsure about this, it’s him.

You clear your throat under his light gaze before you reply, confidently as you can, “I was just thrown by the change of plans. I’d love to dance with you, honestly. I still think about that day we first met- well, met again- when you were practicing and how I’ve never seen anybody dance like that before.”

You’re as surprised by he is at the confession, immediately wanting to backtrack, but you don’t have the opportunity. A faint blush emerges on his cheeks as he looks away from your gaze, eyes crinkling in an embarrassed grin.

“Ah, Y/N,” he honest to God whines before taking a few deep calming breaths. You watch in fascination as all this unravels, drinking in this new Jimin. Fondly, before you can intercept it, the thought enters- you want to see just how many sides he has, want to experience them and revel in them.

“Thank you,” he mumbles with a small smile.

You can’t help but smile back, and the two of you are left grinning softly like a pair of fools at each other until a smart rap sounds on the window right next to you, making you startle into awareness.

Both of you turn to the car and see Jungkook peering through the glass with an expectant look on his face. ‘Are you coming?’ he mouths.

Flustered, you nod and give Jimin a small wave before going around him and entering the vehicle from the other side.

You’re too preoccupied to notice Jungkook staring at you, same shrewd look as last Saturday on his face, but when he lets out a soft ‘Ahem,’ you turn your head to look at him.

His expression is closed, and hardly clear as his face only gets illuminated passingly by the occasional streetlight, but his tone leaves no room for doubt when he says, lips quirking upwards in a small, teasing grin, “If you keep smiling like that when you’re talking to him, somebody could get the wrong idea.”

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s the end of the week and you’re too tired for confrontation, or that your roommate has a sprained ankle and you don’t want to cause him any more grief, or that you’ve finally accepted the state of affairs, but you don’t resort to your knee-jerk reaction of denial.

With a small sigh, you softly reply, not making much sense when taken in context of the conversation but conveying everything that needs to be conveyed either way, “Yeah.”

He looks surprised at your response, probably expecting a huff and an ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ but says nothing, just smiling at you kindly as you let your head fall on his shoulder.

“We can go to the doctor tomorrow morning and get your ankle checked, skip dance class,” you mumble as you watch the street ahead of you sideways, fingers absently fiddling with the strap of Jungkook’s bag in your lap.

He hums in reply, and you appreciate the silence, grateful that he knows you well enough to not bombard you right now.

Jimin (Do Not Interact) : Hey, this is Jimin! Park Jimin. Uhhh Chimmy Jimin. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that the shipments to the shop are a little delayed so we can practice in the backroom. It’ll be a bigger space than Yoongi's studio. I’m always here so let me know when we can start :D

You read and reread the message that was sent an hour ago, absently chewing your thumb nail.

“You do that a lot.”

“Do what?” you mumble, running through all the possibilities in your head.

Chuckling, Hoseok replies while shifting gears, “Look at your phone all worried. You’ve started a bit early today, though. And it’s still Monday. Bad weekend?”

Sighing, you reply, “Not particularly. Just...worried.”

“Anything I can help with?” he asks, patiently curious.

You flash back to ten years ago when Hoseok used to give you snacks whenever you accidentally (read: not) entered whichever room your brother and his friends were holed up in, kind, cheerful smile on his face as you shyly took whatever sweet treat you were being given that day before sprinting out of the room.

Taking a deep breath, already in awe at what you’re about to do, you tilt your phone towards him as he slows down at a signal.

He peers at the screen, looks up at you with a confused expression, and reads the message again.

“Is there something I’m missing?” he asks, as the light turns green and he starts the car again.

“First of all, why is he texting sense at 8 o' clock in the morning?”

“Y/N, have you ever considered the existence of people who enjoy waking up early?”

“Bet you’re one of them,” you huff.

He snorts before waving his hand in ‘Go on' gesture.

“Why is he sending smileys? What’s he so happy about?”

“Jesus Christ, he's just being nice, dude. How are you overthinking an emoticon? It isn’t even an emoji – are you blushing?”

“No, I’m not,” you say loudly, fighting through the unplanned flush on your face. Stupid smiley.

Your companion laughs as he sputters, “Okay, but I have a few questions myself.”

At your haughty nod after you’ve taken a few calming breaths, he continues, “Did he really think you wouldn’t remember him when you, very obviously, have a big, fat crush on him? Chimmy Jimin?”

“Stop,” you whine. In an undertone, you add, “That’s what I used to call him when we were kids. And it isn’t a crush.”

You’ve never been happier to see the office park.

“Are you going to reply?” Hobi asks, pulling into the mostly empty car park. “You know, because you’ve saved his name with ‘Do Not Interact'?”

You roll your eyes even as you know that your thumbs have been hovering over the keypad for the greater part of the last hour. “I will. Soon.”

“You literally just have to say yes or no. I’ll dictate it for you if you want. Yes Chimmy, I love you so much or No Chimmy, I love you so much.”

“Shut up,” you say, glaring at him as he laughs, thoroughly amused by himself. You both get your bags from the back, making your way into the building, text still open in your hand.

You’ve been staring at it for so long, that at first, you think you’ve imagined the green dot next to his name.

“Fuck, he's online,” you mutter in front of the lifts as Hobi giggles at your worried expression.

“Dude, just say yes or no, it isn’t a big deal.”

With a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, you slowly begin to type.

Sure, that’s a great idea! How does 6 PM today evening work for you?

“Perfect,” Hobi says, holding up three fingers in an OK sign when you tilt your screen towards him for approval.

“Smiley face?” you tentatively ask.

“It'd be accurate, you’re definitely happy."

You settle for a :) so it’s low-key before hitting send and immediately shoving your phone into your pocket, shaking your head to clear it for work.

“At the rate you’re going, you’ll have no nail left.”

“I am not entirely opposed to the idea.”

From the back of the car, Jungkook lets out a disgusted ‘Ew' even as he continues scrolling through his phone, absently biting his own index nail.

“Are you excited?”

“To get this over with? Yeah.”

Jungkook scoffs from the back. “There’s that charming Y/N optimism.”

“Don’t fight, children,” Hyejin says pacifyingly from her place behind the wheel. “We can tease her when she’s being a mess around Jimin.”

You scowl but have no comeback, because you can’t find the lie. In the backseat, Jungkook rubs his hands together like an evil fly.

“If I didn’t know that you’re perfectly capable of doing something as stupid as walking into a pole, I would’ve thought you set this up on purpose.”

He looks wounded at your comment, holding up a dramatic hand to place over his heart.

“We're here!” Hyejin calls out before any more confrontation happens, pulling up next to the curb.

“Thanks for coming along,” you sigh as you unbuckle your seatbelt, opting to leave your office bag in the car and only carrying your phone and water bottle.

Before Hyejin can reply, because obviously, the gratitude was aimed at her, Jungkook says, “No problem!”

You’re sure to gently jostle him a little as you loop his arm over your shoulder, helping him out of the car as you deadpan, “I was talking about Hyejin, fool. You practically begged to come along.”

He clicks his tongue in admonishment. “Is that any way to treat your injured best friend? After everything I’ve done for you?”

The eye roll is instinctive, but the banter serves to loosen you up a bit, weirdly calming down the butterflies in your stomach. Jungkook staying at home the entire day and not being allowed to work out means a lot of unspent energy, and you have no doubt that he’s going to be in full exuberance for the rest of the evening, at least until the painkillers kick in. You? You’d rather be anywhere but here, waiting for Hyejin to lock the car outside The VMin Experience at 5:55 PM, straight from work for dance practice with your...friend.

And if you’d prefer to spend your utopian free time scrolling through said friend's Instagram feed, that’s between you and God and your phone battery percentage.

“No thanks needed, I’m very excited to observe your reactions now that I have some background information,” Hyejin says gaily, sharing a beaming grin with Jungkook.

She pushes open the door as you let out a long, drawn out sigh and resist the urge to drop your roommate’s ass then and there when he theatrically whispers, “Happy face, Y/N. Happy face.”

________________________________

“You good?” Jimin asks, only faintly panting, a single drop of sweat running down the side of his neck as he watches you, your hands clutching at the slowly forming stitch on your hip.

“Pe- Peachy,” you reply with a weak smile, gulping for air. Your legs feel like they’re gonna give out at any moment and even with the central cooling in the room, you could really go for an ice bath.

You bend at the waist, bracing your palms on your slightly bent knees. A bottle of water appears in your line of vision and you look up to see a kindly grinning Jimin.

“Let’s take a break, yeah? Five minutes,” he says, giving you a short, and what is probably meant to be comforting, pat on your back, but only serves to drag out the ongoing process of your heart calming down.

You’d think, after nearly an hour and a half of having his hands on your waist, fingers tracing your neck, palms closing around yours and the both of you moving together, you wouldn’t continue having all these physical reactions to a mere skim of skin over your clothed spine, but when has your body ever had a logical response to Jimin’s presence in the last few weeks?

Your breath slows down as you walk slowly around the room, looking at Jimin perfecting a step out of the corner of your eye. In the corner, Hyejin's subconsciously mirroring the dance as she shoots you a grin and a thumbs up. Your eyes sluggishly move to Jungkook, who looks like his painkillers have just kicked in, his eyes fighting to stay open even as he has an amused smile on his face.

The first thirty minutes had consisted of Jungkook teaching Jimin his steps with you as a prop, which basically meant you were passed back and forth as Jungkook explained as well as he could on one leg and Jimin caught on incredibly fast. It had been shockingly simple to dance with him, to let your body move with his and dip and soar step after step as he flawlessly executed the movements after watching Jungkook just once or twice.

You had nearly gotten caught staring at the furrow in his eyebrow as he concentrated, a similar pout on your lips as you yearned to lean up and smooth it out, but Jungkook had been too preoccupied to comment and you gave yourself a good, strong pep talk to focus.

And now it’s nearing 8 PM and you’ve just completed the first proper run-through, your body burning and your nerves hyper aware but so satisfied at the completion of a smooth rehearsal. In some weird, twisted way, it’s easy to not pay attention to the nervous, frazzled, constantly overthinking voices about Jimin in your head when you’re dancing with him.

Feeling a little calmer, you turn back around while gulping some water and see Jimin gathering his hair off his forehead and tying it up in a small ponytail, shorter strands falling out and hanging as wisps.

“Ready?” he asks with a grin, hand held out in your direction when he sees that you’re looking at him.

You swallow with difficulty and try not to be too transparent about the effect this new hairstyle is having on you as you muster a smile and nod, placing your palm in his, fingers only twitching slightly.

Hyejin stifles a short giggle, morphing it into a cough as you shoot her a sharp look before she restarts the track on the phone.

The piano intro begins, build up in the song already evident as Jimin pulls you close for the start position. You let the music wash over you, anchoring yourself in the sound and running through the steps in your head. Steeling your nerves, you meet Jimin’s eyes as you straighten your back, finding them twinkling in anticipation and unwavering concentration, gaze boring deep into yours as you both begin the routine again.

The rain is starting to come down heavier as you huddle close to the wall of the security cabin, trying to fit as much of your body as you can under the awning. Your laptop bag is secure in your arms as you use it to cover your chest, trying to receive some kind of warmth against the wind that’s picking up pace.

With a sigh, you unlock your phone for the fifth time in two minutes, checking if Tae’s given you his ETA. On seeing no new messages or missed calls, you close it again and let out a low groan.

A particularly strong gust of wind makes you shiver as you idly curse at your own stupidity for not checking the time while debugging the latest code you had been assigned and ending up leaving this late. If Hobi had come to the office today, he would have made sure you left on time, probably annoyed you into it as he played his stupid, TikTok songs playlist next to your desk until you agreed.

But he’s sick and you had spent twenty minutes sitting through awfully cheery morning radio in your Uber in the morning, too scared to request the driver to change it. And now, you’re standing outside the office building in the dark, waiting for Tae to come pick you up because no cabs are available.

The last message on your phone from him reads leaving in five! and that was sent fifteen minutes ago. You’re too caught up in trying to calculate what that means, time and math-wise, that you only realise that your boss’s car has drawn to a stop in front of you when the passenger seat window is rolled down and her concerned face appears, leaning over from behind the wheel.

You immediately straighten up from the wall, absently shivering against the droplets that hit your face and arms as you politely smile. Apparently, you weren’t the last one to leave.

“Get in!” she shouts to be heard over the sound of the rain, and at this point, you’re too cold and miserable to disobey. You transfer your bag and phone to one hand, pulling the door open and sliding in as gracefully as you can when your eyes are shut and your head is ducked to avoid the rain you’re momentarily exposed to. Which isn’t very graceful at all.

You nearly moan at the warmth inside the car, immediately feeling yourself getting less cranky.

“How come you’re leaving so late?” Jennie asks, moving the car so she can stop it against the curb before turning up the heat a little more when she notices you slightly shivering still.

“I was debugging something and lost track of time,” you say with a wince.

She nods in understanding, the light of the streetlamp casting a shine on her long, straight black hair as she pushes her glasses up.

“You have a ride back home? I noticed that you and Hoseok carpool but he didn’t come in to work today.”

“Yeah, my friend’s coming to pick me up. He should be here…sometime soon, hopefully.”

“I’ll wait with you,” she says. “I don’t want you falling sick, too.”

You accept with a grateful nod, more than willing to spend the next few minutes inside here rather than out in the rain.

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s a Thursday evening (night) and you’re going through the crushing, midweek existential crisis you’re prey to; or that the rain outside is getting heavier, small flashes of lightning indicating a larger incoming storm and you’re glad to have some kind of shelter; or maybe even that there’s a satisfying sort of soreness to your limbs from the now regular dancing, not painful but just present enough for you to feel content that you’ve done something, but the regular awkwardness seems practically non-existent.

Jennie doesn’t say anything, just quietly observes the rain from her seat, placid smile on her face like she’s been sheltering cold, helpless interns since she was four years old, and you feel no inclination to break the comforting silence, preferring to rub your palms in front of the heater vents, letting them warm up.

Until your phone begins to vibrate on your lap, caller ID reading Tae.

Eagerly, you accept the call, putting the phone to your ear. As fun as hiding out in your boss's car is, nothing sounds better than your bed and some pillows and a warm blanket.

“Talk to me,” you say immediately, anticipating good news.

There’s static for a while and you hear some talking in the background, something about boxes and back rooms before Tae's voice comes clear.

“There’s been a change of plans,” he starts, and you note with slight concern that there’s no sound of a running engine or rain on his end.

Warily, you ask, “What do you mean?”

A door closes in the background and now you can hear him easier, like he’s gone to a quiet place.

“A shipment got delivered early and since it was in my name, I couldn’t leave the shop.”

You feel your heart sink at his words, knowing from prior experience that it could take up to an hour for him to make it. In the suddenly deafening quiet of the car, his tinny voice through your phone rings clearly and you have no doubt Jennie heard. To her credit, she pretends to have not been paying attention, only continuing to look out of the window.

“Can you still make it?” you ask, cursing the day you and Jungkook decided to buy that washing machine that ate into your savings so much that you haven’t been able to purchase your own car.

He makes a soothing hum before replying, slowly and then all at once, “No, but Jimin is coming to get you and he should be there in five minutes tops.”

And now, in a rush, you’re seized up, unable to say anything except a tiny ‘Okay,’ in a voice that suggests that it isn’t really okay at all, if Tae's low chuckle is anything to go by.

It’s all fun and games having that rose-tinted feeling of liking somebody and being able to spend time with them and really embracing those giddy butterflies in your stomach every time you’re both in the same room, but when push comes to shove and you have to spend an extended period of time alone together without the buffer of music and the purpose of dance, you can think of few things more intimidating.

At your small tone, Tae replies, putting you more on edge, “Don’t worry, you don’t have to engage, he's pretty tired too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t mind engaging with him,” you respond, probably too defensive to seem convincing and too rushed to mask your knee-jerk panicked reaction.

He doesn’t give you a straight answer, and even though you can’t see him, you know his palm is held up in a pacifying gesture. “I’m just saying, when you like somebody, you tend to avoid one-on-one interaction with them which isn’t exactly conducive for fostering romance.”

“Fucking hell, does everybody know?” you groan as your head hits the back of the seat with a dull thud, momentarily forgetting about where you are and whom you’re with.

“Everybody except Jimin!” Tae replies cheerfully. In the background, you hear somebody asking for him.

You have no valid reply, only uttering a soft ‘Okay, bye,’ when Tae signs off by saying, “Okay, I have to go now. He’s coming in my car and should be there soon. Text me when you get home!”

Hanging up, you sigh, turning around to face Jennie who’s looking at you with a concerned expression.

“All good?”

Resisting the urge to bite your fingernails as you’re wont to do in high pressure, nervously anticipatory situations like this, you muster a weak smile and reply, “Yeah, everything’s fine. He should be here in a bit.”

She nods, accepting your half-baked response without question.

At that moment, through the sheets of rain, you see a familiar silver sedan pulling up on the opposite side of the road. Squinting, you read the number plate, and once you’ve deduced that it is, in fact, Tae's, you turn to Jennie and say, “That’s him. Thank you for waiting with me.”

She waves away your gratitude with a small smile, but stops you when you’re about to push open the door with a clearing of her throat.

Gentle but insistently, she slowly says, “From one woman to another, if you want something, you should go for it. Don’t hang around being scared or waiting for something to happen.”

So she did hear after all.

You don’t know what to make of it, don’t have any reply to her statement that won’t sound silly, can’t figure out a way to convey that yes, you agree with her one hundred percent, but this situation is different.

Your phone vibrates and you see the caller ID.

Jimin (Interact Only For Practice)

The headlights in the car opposite are blinking on and off, probably to signal to you that he’s arrived in case you don’t pick up your phone and you’re saved the bother of a reply by Jennie smiling kindly at your half-pleading half-flabbergasted expression and saying, “He's waiting for you."

With a gulp, you can do nothing but nod and stutter out another ‘Th-Thanks,’ before you push the door open and jog to the other side of the road towards your ride.

_____________________________

“Here, I thought you might need this.”

There’s a sweatshirt placed on your lap, something soft, warm and as far as you can make out in the dim lighting of the car, black.

He does look tired, faint bags under his eyes that are missing their regular sparkle. He gives you a small smile, though, as he jerks his head in the direction of the fabric he’s set down on your thighs.

“You look cold. Do you want me to turn up the heat?” he asks, slightly husky voice, all kindness. You might not be particularly fond of water at the moment, given that it’s dripping from your hair and making your clothes stick uncomfortably to your skin, but given the chance, you’d drown in his voice right now.

“No, it’s perfect. Thanks for coming,” you reply, looking away under the pretense of tugging the hoodie over your head, unable to stare at him without needing to combust any longer.

It isn’t too big for you, just hanging a little bit off of your frame, but it engulfs you perfectly, immediately making you feel cozy and warm.

He starts the car, the bracelets on his arm jiggling lightly as he pushes it into gear. “No problem, really. I don’t mind helping out. Especially if it means you don’t end up staying in the rain and catching a cold.”

An easy smile accompanies his words, and you can only mumble something unintelligible in response, simultaneously flattered, shy and annoyed that you’re feeling.

A comfortable silence settles for an indeterminate period of time. It can’t be more than five minutes, but it feels like much longer before you muster up enough courage to ask, “How are things going at the shop? Everything running on schedule?”

“Yeah, more or less. Hectic, though. Nobody told us it would be this much work.”

There’s no bite in his words, just a mix of passive regret and satisfaction at taking up such a large project and seeing it go through.

“I can tell,” you reply, trying to be supportive. “Tae doesn’t send me as many cat videos as he used to anymore.”

The laugh that you get in response puts angels to shame, and you’re not sure you quite manage to keep the sappy fondness out of your expression when you take in the more relaxed droop in his shoulders and the smoothening of his face, at least a fraction of his regular happiness making a return.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about that,” he starts, the atmosphere in the car a little lighter and easier now, thanks to your stellar comedic timing.

“About Tae's cat videos?”

He shoots you a grin as he replies teasingly, “Maybe later. I was talking about the store opening.”

“Has there been a change of date? Last I checked, it was scheduled for Friday, the 17th.”

“It still is. But Boom is on the 18th, so any last minute run-throughs we'll have to get done in the next six days.”

You nod, thoughtfully. “I think we can make that work. We’re in a pretty good position.”

“We work well together,” he says, agreeing, probably not realising that his statement has just sent every nerve ending you have on high alert, shocking you out of that false sense of security you’ve been cocooned in for most of the conversation so far.

You mumble a slow ‘Yeah,’ as he absentmindedly pulls into your road, slowing down as he reaches the apartment.

Whatever ease you were feeling earlier has flown out the window, and now you want nothing more than to leave.

“Thanks for the ride! Oh, let me give you your hoodie bac-"

“Keep it.”

You look up from his hand atop yours, stilling your fingers in their momentarily abandoned mission at the side of your hip, his palm settling atop your fisted knuckles that have fabric twisted in them.

It’s like time’s paused as you see his kind smile, feel the warmth of his hand and the chill of the tips of his fingers that are almost cupping yours.

Swallowing when he makes no attempt to move them, just looking at you half-warning and half-gentle, like he’s daring you to return his sweatshirt when you’re still cold and wet and obviously need it for the walk up to the front door, you softly ask, partly whispering, though you’re not sure why, “Are you sure?”

He doesn’t break eye contact, just gently giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing it, fingers curling around the wheel once more as he replies, “Yeah, you can return it at our next practice session.”

“Okay,” you mumble, nodding unconsciously and lifting your bag from the floor of the car as if in a dream, waving goodbye hazily until you’re taking the stairs up to your floor.

You unlock the door, and the moment it shuts behind you, you’re turning around and letting your body sag against it, slumped with your bag in one hand and the keys limp in the other.

You distantly hear Jungkook calling out from the living room, his voice getting louder as he limps towards you.

“Y/N, is that you?”

You don’t have it in you to reply, only grunting as you face his approaching form absently.

“Whose jacket is that?”

Fuck.

“Wow.”

You nod, mouth open as you stop next to a similarly gaping Jungkook, frozen in front of the newly unveiled storefront.

The sound of your cab driving away goes unnoticed as you both take in the transformation from the last time you had been here, nearly a week ago.

Since the shop had finally gotten too crowded with items and display pieces, and the storeroom actually had things to be stored, you and Jimin had moved your practices back to your living room with all the furniture (a grand total of one couch and a coffee table) pushed right up to the wall. Consequentially, you haven’t seen the shop in little more than a week.

The cheap plastic board that had been there earlier is now a sleek black and silver plaque with The VMin Experience written on it in that clean, classy, elongated font. From the outside, the freshly wiped glass windows give a direct view into lit up display mannequins clothed in designs. Even at ten in the morning, everything looks sophisticated and chic. There’s a small signboard hanging from the door handle that reads ‘OPENING TODAY!’ right above the PULL sticker.

“Do you think Tae will give us a discount?” you ask, as you take in the pastel pink blazer that the mannequin on the right is wearing.

You aren’t even remotely surprised when your roommate slash the devil incarnate nudges you in the ribs with his elbow and says, grin evident in his voice even if you aren’t looking at him, “I think you’ll have better luck with Jimin.”

After Jimin had dropped you off that night and you had stumbled up to the apartment all in a tizzy, Jungkook had questioned you extensively and didn’t even have the gall to hide his amusement at your retelling. Since then, he’s taken to dropping some very unsubtle hints like leaving post-its around the house with winky faces, which is very unsettling, and always making his SIMS characters kiss whenever you happen to be around.

Mercifully, he hadn’t been too unsufferable whenever Jimin came over for practice, probably realising that it was in his best interests to not antagonise you that much.

And you? You’ve been avoiding everything that even vaguely resembles romantic emotion as staunchly and stubbornly as a mule. God and your phone battery and your browser history (that includes but is not limited to Google searches like crush songs and how to stop thinking, and multiple BuzzFeed articles about zodiac compatibility and quizzes along the general lines of Tell Us Your Favourite Disney Movies And We’ll Tell You If Your Crush Likes You Back, combined with excessive usage of your notes app) might disagree, but that’s nobody’s business.

Especially not Jungkook’s, even if he did hear you singing bubble pop in the shower once.

“After you,” he says, completely ignoring your eye roll and letting you go in front of him, more to avoid the barrage of instructions that you’re both going to be on the receiving end of the moment you step into the store, than any real goodness of his heart.

You flick him half-heartedly on the arm before pulling the door open, immediately assaulted by the smell of fresh items and air conditioning. And something like lavender?

“Oh, good, you’re both here. Could you move that rack a bit to the left?”

You and Jungkook just exchange a short, amused look before obediently moving to opposite sides of the indicated shelf with hangers of clothes and moving it, as directed, a bit to the left.

Taehyung looks uncharacteristically nervous, his usually impeccably trim nails bitten at the edges and a frazzled look on his regularly smooth, bored face, and when the two of you turn to him, ready to receive more directions, he’s in the middle of trying to shift a stand that’s very clearly bolted to the floor.

“Uh, Tae? All good there, buddy?”

You know Jungkook’s talking in that corny voice, calling his friend the superior term of platonic endearment to get him to crack a grin, and it’s worked in the past, but all Tae does now is grunt as he tries harder to push the stubborn stand.

He’s dressed casually in a loose, black and gold button-up shirt tucked into tight, black pants, looking for all he’s worth like a rich patron of a modern art museum or a front row invitee to a global fashion week, but under the lights and with the fancy clothes all around and the sheer aura of expensiveness radiating from every surface of the shop, he fits right in. Apart from the annoyed curl of his lips as he continues his attempt to move a non-budging, nailed down shelf.

An irresistible force against an immovable object, if you will.

Slowly, you and Jungkook approach him, like you’re about to pacify a tantrum throwing toddler.

Hesitantly, you place a palm on his tense shoulder, right as he realises that the stand is attached and lets out an anguished groan.

“Is something wrong?” you ask slowly, when he makes no move to shake your hand off.

He exhales harshly, jaw clenched as he gathers himself before taking a deep breath in.

The verbal reply to your question comes from behind all of you, as Jimin enters the main shop floor from the back room, partway through rolling up the full-length sleeves of his shirt. Your throat goes dry as you take in his formal pants, distantly aware that Taehyung is wearing literally the same thing but had hardly evoked more than a vague sense of appreciation from you.

“He’s been like this all morning,” Jimin says, continuing to make his way closer, looking up for just a second to shoot an amused smile before he goes back to concentrating on rolling his sleeve neatly with one hand.

You don’t know what possesses you to do it, but as you’re looking at his arms twist in his struggle to make it look artfully messy, you blurt out, “Do you need help?”

He gratefully nods, giving up and extending his right arm out to you as he continues, “He wants, and I quote, everything to be so perfect that it puts Hallmark films to shame.”

Behind you, you hear Jungkook snort and reply, “There’s nothing perfect about Hallmark films.”

The sounds of Tae and Kook arguing behind you fade into background noise as you focus on undoing what Jimin’s done so far. You’ve just about finished, tugging out a flap from the fold so it doesn’t look quite so formal and pulling away, when your wrist is caught in a gentle grip.

As studiously as you’ve avoided looking at him directly so far, you can’t stop your gaze from shooting up to his in surprise, breath catching as he smiles at you, a curious mixture of nervousness and anticipation in his eyes.

Dancing together is different from...whatever this is, intense and charged as neither of you look away. The other two have moved towards the back of the shop to prematurely open a champagne bottle for Tae's nerves, but you’re not sure you would have noticed them even if they were still bickering in the vicinity.

He loosens his grip on your hand but doesn’t let go, slightly bending as he says, “Thank you.”

You nod, not trusting your voice and just giving a smile before you gently detach yourself from him, immediately moving towards Jungkook who’s holding out a champagne glass toward you, beckoning you both to participate in the entrepreneurially sanctioned daytime drinking.

As you’re lifting your glass, letting it clink against the others and resolutely not making eye contact with Jimin who’s standing directly opposite you, his cheerful voice joining in the chorus of ‘To paying off student loans!’, your heart and head race a mile a minute.

What does it all mean?

_____________________________

“So he thanked you.”

Huffing, you impatiently repeat to Hyejin's simultaneously confused and unimpressed face, “No, he thanked me.”

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

You groan in frustration, letting your arms flop against your sides in abandon as you lean against the side of the closed back room that the two of you have been conversing in for the last ten minutes, ever since you caught sight of her entering the shop and dragged her back right after she congratulated the new business owners.

She had whined a bit about not getting the fancy champagne flute, but once the word ‘Jimin’ had left your mouth, she became mighty compliant.

“I think I’m missing something here. You’re losing your mind in the store room on the opening day of your friends’ shop at 12 PM because...” she trails off, looking at you expectantly with an arched eyebrow.

Something breaks inside you and the next thing you know, you’re venting out in a single breath, nearly tripping over your words, “Because I like Jimin and I think he likes me too, but I’m too scared to say anything or bring it up in case I’m wrong and also, I sort of really want it to be true but I don’t know and I’m scared and I would very much like everything to go back to when this stupid dance competition didn’t exist, because now I keep thinking about ways to spend time with him after tomorrow and I’m embarrassed and feelings suck.”

You’re gasping by the end of it, like you’ve just run a marathon with a cash prize for first place. If you weren’t somehow feeling simultaneously lighter and more exposed, you’d be amused at Hyejin’s expression, but all you can muster is a weak sort of shrug to mask any awkwardness you might be feeling.

She looks like she’s just been slapped across the face with a wet fish, eyes wide and mouth open, but before she can say anything, the door to the left opens and Jungkook walks in, a half-full champagne glass in his hand.

He takes in Hyejin’s expression and your defensive stance that’s combined with the worried furrow of your eyebrows before he slowly says, “I just came here to escape from Yoongi who keeps asking me where his Tupperware is and I’m too scared to tell him I lost it, but there’s a really weird energy in here right now.”

“Jimin thanked Y/N,” Hyejin unhelpfully supplies, looking like she’s slowly regaining her bearings after your emotional outburst.

Jungkook's eyes narrow in confusion as his head tilts, lips pursed. “I feel like there’s more to that story, but I’m not gonna hear any of it.”

You sigh, weight of everything crashing into you as you sit down on the floor cross-legged, staring unseeing at the opposite wall.

At your actions, Jungkook’s eyebrows crease in concern, but his confusion is abundantly evident when he says, “I’m, uh, sure you can tell Jimin not to thank you again if it makes you this sad. Will some champagne make you feel better?”

“Yes, please,” you say, nodding despondently as you accept the glass from him, after which he sits down next to you, twiddling his thumbs, probably wondering why he offered.

For about a minute, the two of you sit there, you completely zoned out, dissociating to cope with the reality of the situation as you take little sips and Jungkook humming something vague, his legs now stretched out in front of him.

You nearly forget that Hyejin’s even in the room until your glass is snatched from your affronted grip and you’re looking up accusingly at her exasperated face.

“Up,” she says shortly, taking one of your hands in hers and pulling you. You have no choice but to follow through, landing shakily and ruefully watching her finish off what’s left of the champagne before she hands the glass to an entertained Jungkook and places both her palms firmly on your shoulders.

Oh no.

“I’m going to tell you something, and you might not like it, but you have to hear it anyway, okay?”

You resist the urge to salute, nodding as you agree. Not that you have an option. You’ve seen Hyejin in intervention mode before, and resisting is like trying to stop a fire from burning.

“You. Are. Incredibly. Stupid.”

Your mouth drops in offense, and you make to defend yourself, but before you can say anything, from the floor, Jungkook cheers, “I knew there was something I missed. What happened?”

Not taking her eyes off of you, Hyejin replies, “Y/N likes Jimin and she thinks he likes her and she’s having a crisis.”

You have hope for a moment, when your trusty roommate scoffs behind you, and you vow to get him something good for his birthday this year, but just as you’re grinning all satisfied at Hyejin, he says, “Of course he likes her. Pfft. That was never the question.”

Coal. He’s getting coal and it won’t even be gift wrapped.

At your shocked expression, he slowly stands up, looking confused as he asks, “Did you...did you not realise?”

Near-hysterical, you reply, turning to face him fully, “No? How was I supposed to realise?”

Jungkook’s looking at you like you’ve grown a third head, like you’re the one who’s just said something completely bizarre, which is absolutely untrue.

“Wait, what did you think her crisis was about?” Hyejin asks, infuriatingly calm at this revelation and completely ignoring the fact that your roommate is spouting enough shit to fill a truck.

“Feelings? In general? I thought she knew about Jimin liking her. I thought you knew about Jimin liking you!”

You throw your arms up in a gesture of annoyance as you hiss, half-frustrated and half-panicking, “How was I supposed to know? Nobody tells me these things!”

“Dude, he's been flirting with you for weeks.”

“No, he has not. You’re wrong. Hyejin, tell him he’s wrong.”

But to your great betrayal, Hyejin doesn’t immediately contest the sheer stupidity of the statement. She gets that look you’re constantly wary of. A ‘hmm, you might have a point there,’ look.

“Actually,” she slowly begins. “Now I think about it, he might be right.”

You groan in frustration as Jungkook continues in the same voice, like he’s still bewildered that you haven’t picked up on any flirty, non-existent signs.

“He gave you his jacket and let you keep it for, like, a week? And he wouldn’t stop looking at you during the photoshoot? And he agreed to dance with you immediately, no questions asked. And don’t even get me started on that evening with the super intense eye contact outside Yoongi's studio. And he agreed to come pick you up in the rain at ass o' clock even when his shop was opening in a week and he was neck deep in work with no complaint, from what I heard. What part of this isn’t registering as ‘I want to hold your hand non-platonically' to you?”

You open and close your mouth, speechless. More out of formality, to put up a fight because weary fear and wary hope makes one do and say stupid things, you softly mutter, “He was just being nice,” but you’ll be the first to admit that there’s more than a tinge of doubt in your voice now.

Hyejin sighs, looking at you kindly as she says, all too knowingly, “I know you’re going to overthink this. But it really, really isn’t a big deal.”

“But what do I do?” you ask, desperation thinly veiled in your voice.

“Nothing, if that’s what you want. Or you could ask him out. Or you could wait for him to ask you out.”

Jungkook nods insistently next to her. “It’s all good, dude.”

Stellar contributor, that one.

Taking a deep breath in and letting it out with a whoosh, you look back at their expectant faces, trepidation in your eyes.

“First, I’d like a glass of champagne.”

The light that enters through the crack in your curtains annoys you, but not enough to make you get up and block it. Your phone is on silent, and for once, you don’t feel the constant, compulsive need to check it.

You don’t feel the need to do anything, really. Here, starfished on your bed, staring blank at the white ceiling is a good place to be. Optimum zoning out position. You’ve gotten so tuned to the sound of the clock on the wall, that you’re certain your heart is now beating in the same rhythm, and the numbness in your foot has been there for so long, you don’t remember who you were before it.

After the...talk in the storeroom yesterday, you wish you could say that your first order of business (after some liquid courage) was to walk right up to Jimin and give it to him straight, but nothing could be farther from the truth.

You had avoided him like the plague, preferring to catch up with Yoongi and hide out in the dressing room armed with clothes you can only afford in your dreams. To top it all, you also had to deal with all this new information and suddenly, you were noticing a lot of interesting things. You’d catch Jimin looking at you at odd moments, and he’d look away after shooting you a small smile that you physically couldn’t not return. He had come over all the way from the other end of the shop to ask you if you wanted another glass of champagne (you had declined), and there were fingers brushing against your shoulder, winks thrown across the room whenever eye contact was made and all of a sudden, you were consumed by this overwhelming feeling of stupidity, all of Jungkook’s points becoming more and more valid with every passing moment.

So, you did what any sane person would do. After congratulating them, and having an incredibly brief conversation with him about the final plan for the competition, you had left (after counting and comparing the amount of time he spent on his hugs with different people, and coming to the conclusion that you got two seconds extra).

You had refused to speak to Jungkook about anything even in the vicinity of the ballpark of whatever you were thinking about on the cab ride back, shovelled in an early dinner, gone straight up to your room and begun to create a definitive flowchart about possible outcomes.

It had been of no help whatsoever, and had only led to you thinking even more until you finally gave up on the project, paper landing on your bed with a comically sad finality, probably still there, lying crumpled under all the pillows.

You had flopped onto your bed, stared at the ceiling until your eyes could stay open no longer, only to wake up to your alarm at 7 AM with the same train of thought in your head continuing where it had left off.

Cut to now, two hours later. You can see your packed bag near the closed door. Jungkook’s knocked twice already, asking if you want breakfast before your big show and you’ve declined both times. You’re already showered and dressed, and both activities were a sort of background noise to the insofar ceaseless thinking in your head.

But now, you’re all thought out. You’re tired godammit, and you know that you’ve spiralled enough for a thousand exam seasons for there to still be some hope that rationality will prevail and a conclusion based on facts can be hit upon. No, you’re done thinking.

It’s time to listen to Kim Jennie, 28, Head of Product Development. No time for being scared. And maybe some advice that’s less daunting and closer to the kind of thing you can vibe without wanting to puke at the thought of, Hyejin’s ‘It isn’t such a big deal.’

Despite the sudden clarity and at least half-way confidence in your constitution, your body’s still playing catch up, and your movements are sluggish as you sit up, coming face to face with your reflection in the mirror. There’s that trepidation that you’re all too aware of in your eyes, but you brush it aside. You’ve got the power of your boss and your friend on your side. And once you tell Jungkook your plan, the moment you figure it out yourself, you’ll have anime too.

You give your reflection one final, determined nod before standing up and collecting your phone and bag. You decide to hold off on opening the curtains just yet. No need to get ahead of yourself. Maybe when you get back. After your fate’s been decided.

Your notifications range from well wishes (Yoongi: Don’t trip like you did during that performance in fifth grade.) to a compilation of cat videos (Tae: to make up for the lack over the last few weeks :D), but the message that your eyes are drawn to is from the man himself.

Jimin (Maybe Interact Sometimes): I’m excited! Let’s kill it!

Unbidden, a smile grows on your face, small at first before slowly growing until you’re beaming at your phone. The familiar pre-performance anticipation settles deep in your bones, and combined with your recently acquired confidence and the butterflies that have taken up permanent residence in your stomach over the last month or so, it’s a deadly mix.

Feeling heady, you reply with some exclamation points and lock your phone, toning down the grin on your face so your roommate doesn’t think you’ve finally crossed the bend before pushing the door open.

Jungkook’s in the kitchen, sitting over a bowl of cereal, eyes skimming through the newspaper that he’s holding up with one hand. It’s a common enough occurrence, one you see nearly every morning, but it feels different today. You’ve got the enterprise of mission in you.

He notices you entering and opens his mouth to say something, but stops short. You catch sight of your reflection in the glass window behind him, and see that the grin, if not entirely blinding, is still a drastic change from your usual morning grumpiness that Jungkook has the pleasure of poking at every day.

Tentatively, he asks, rather than says, “Good morning?”

Dropping your bag, you make your way to the fridge to get some milk to fix up your own cereal as you reply, cheeriness coming through in your voice even as you try to keep it neutral, “Morning!”

You can feel his quizzical gaze on your back, and he makes no pretense of hiding it when you sit down opposite him, bowl set in front of you.

“Are you done with the newspaper?” you ask, pretending to not notice his staring, absently tapping your spoon against the side of the table as you swallow a mouthful.

He looks confused as he replies, “Am I done with – uh, yeah, here.”

You accept it with a smile and a ‘Thank you!’ before spreading it out on the table in front of you, bowl in one hand, spoon in the other as you hunch over to read.

It only takes a few seconds for Jungkook to break the silence. “Are you alright?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, peachy. Excited about the competition!”

You look up at the fag end of your sentence, just in time to catch his deeply mistrusting gaze.

“Nervous?” he asks, like a detective looking for a lead.

You direct your gaze back to the editorial page as you shake your head and respond simply, “Nope.”

That’s a blatant lie, and you’re sure that as soon as ten minutes from now, you’re going to start realising the gravity of the situation (prize money is a powerful incentive), but that bridge hasn’t even been built yet, leave alone reached.

There’s silence for a while, you reading the paper while eating your cereal and Jungkook looking at you shrewdly, like he’s trying to read your mind and figure out how you’ve made a complete 180 from yesterday.

When you deem the time right, you say matter-of-factly, “Might ask Jimin out today.”

It’s quite unfortunate that you aren’t looking up when you utter those words. Jungkook’s in the middle of a sip of coffee, and it takes a minute for him to stop choking and sputtering.

“You what?”

“Might ask Jimin out today,” you repeat with a shrug, folding the paper after finishing the comics section and directing your gaze at his startled face.

He narrows his eyes, scepticism in his voice as he asks, “What do you mean you might ask Jimin out today?”

“For somebody who’s a journalist and about to be a published author, you’re having an awfully hard time comprehending words, aren’t you?”

He groans in annoyance as you smile pleasantly, enjoying the overall effect of this conversation.

Gathering himself, he slowly enquires, “So you just woke up today morning and decided that you’re going to do this?”

“Yep,” you reply, popping the p.

He scrutinises you carefully, looking for traces of bullshit. Finding none, he slowly begins to smile. And then you’re smiling. And then he’s smiling wider, and now you’re both grinning at each other like a pair of fools. If anybody were to walk into the kitchen now, they’d take one look before turning around and marching right back out.

Jungkook lets out a small giggle, partly in residual disbelief and partly in excitement, and your nervousness and anticipation manifests in the same way.

“When are you going to do it?” he asks, eyes twinkling as he stifles his laughter.

“No idea,” you reply, standing up with your bowl and making your way to the sink with him in tow.

“You mean you haven’t thought this to death and made a timeline down to the millisecond about how your plan’s going to unfold? I’m shocked.”

There’s no bite in his words, though, and you merely bump him on the side as you wash your bowl, him drying his next to you. “I’m tired of thinking. Time to get shit done.”

A pause as Jungkook whoops in support, and then you’re asking, “Is this a terrible idea? Should I not do this today? What if I screw up while dancing?”

You don’t know where the sudden uncertainty is coming from. Maybe everything’s finally catching up to you, but abruptly, you need some reassurance that you aren’t in over your head, that you aren’t going to fuck up.

“None of that now,” Jungkook says bossily, drying his hands and placing his palms on your shoulders, turning you so you’re facing him. “You’ve got a cash prize to win and a crush to ask out. No time for being scared and mopey. You know why? ‘Cause you’re a lean, mean singing machine.”

“I’m not lean.”

“Mean singing machine.”

“I’m actually quite nice, I think.”

“Singing machine.”

“This is a dance competition.”

He huffs in annoyance, but there’s a glint of relief in his eyes at your return to admittedly uncharacteristic optimism.

“Phineas and Ferb quotes shouldn’t be adapted,” he staunchly says, nose teasingly up in the air as he lets you go so you can pick up your bag.

“Not by you, they shouldn’t.”

“Okay, why don’t you book the cab, yeah?” he says, marching your giggling frame out the door.

The large board next to the main, high school auditorium entrance reads ‘PARTICIPANTS HERE' followed by a red arrow pointing to a small door that presumably leads to the green room.

You and Jungkook stop a few paces away, moving closer to the wall so you aren’t blocking the hallway that’s teeming with audience members trying to enter. Some of them take in your outfit and wish you luck, to which you reply with a grateful nod.

The confidence you were feeling earlier has been replaced by the shaky excitement that accompanies a performance. You wonder what you were thinking, deciding to launch your amoratic venture on the same day as the competition. Like you don’t have enough to be nervous about. But a plan is a plan, and you’re sure you’ll chicken out and/or rip all your hair out in frustration if you go another day without dealing with it.

But prize money first. Boys after.

“Y/N.”

“Yes,” you reply, trying to mimic Jungkook’s firm voice, even as your eyes take in the large crowd of people who are going to be watching.

“Let's get this bread,” he says.

You nod, taking strength in the knowledge that Mr. Kibum is judging, that you’re dancing with your childhood best friend, that Hyejin’s going to be in the green room as well, that Jungkook, Yoongi and Tae are all going to be cheering you on from the crowd, that this is dance.

The wink he offers you leaves no doubt of the fact that he means other breads as well and not just the show, but you ignore it. Focus is key.

“Break a leg!” he cheers, ironically enough seeing as how his ankle is still in a cast, despite the fact that he can walk now with a barely noticeable limp.

You shakily smile in response before waving and ducking into the room you’re supposed to go into.

Immediately, the loud noise and chatter from the corridor becomes muffled as you’re wrapped in a quiet air of anticipation and nerves that hangs heavy. A few people look up when you enter, the ones you know offer you a weak smile that you return. In the corner of the room, you spot Hyejin and Jimin doing their stretches, much like majority of the other participants strewn around.

Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve effectively temporarily suppressed your feelings in favour of focusing on the competition, or maybe that you’ve finally accepted them and decided to do something about them, but all you feel is a sort of calm glow when you see him. Your stomach does give a weak, little flop, but you don’t experience that urge to escape as a first instinct, like you’ve become so accustomed to recently.

You scuttle over, taking care not to hit anybody with the swinging bag dangling from your side.

“Hey,” you mumble, easily accepting Jimin’s hug as he smiles at you and grinning at a mid-split Hyejin.

You begin jogging in place to warm up to stretch as Taemin enters the room, fedora full of chits in his hand.

“It’s time to decide the order of performing! Everybody gather around.”

Hyejin smoothly gets up with her freakish core strength as you and Jimin look at each other. There’s a dash of glitter on his eyelashes, subtly sparkling in the light, and you can swear, at that moment, that he’s easily the most beautiful person in this room. Hell, in this building.

“You wanna pick?” he asks, quirking his head to the side.

Ordinarily, you’d decline. But with the clouds you’re walking on, maybe you should try your luck.

“Sure,” you reply, making your way to the slowly gathering crowd that’s surrounding a hassled looking Taemin.

You huff in preparation before sticking you forearm into the hat blindly and snatching the first chit your fingers close around. Somebody’s nails scratch you, but you’re too distracted, fighting your way out of the group of people, eager to reach Jimin on the outskirts so you can open the tightly clutched paper in your hand and see your fate.

“Ready?” you ask, once you’re standing in front of him.

He nods eagerly. There’s a flush on his cheeks, a light in his eyes you’ve never seen before, and the memory of watching him dance in that practice room for the first time all those weeks ago, with all that love and passion and elegant control enters your head unbidden. You feel a little sickened by the amount your heart warms when you think of Jimin getting this opportunity to do what he loves on stage.

You slowly open the paper, only for your heart to veritably pause for a second when you read what’s written.

No fucking way.

You look up, unable to keep the apologetic grimace from your face as you see him half-amused, half-disbelieving.

From the other end of the room, Taemin calls out “Team number 1!”

You and Jimin look at each other briefly before making your way towards him. Around you, you can hear small whoops. You think the muted laughter is from Hyejin.

“Pendrive?” he asks all business-like, hand stuck out, palm up, giving no indication that he knows the two of you, that he sees you every Saturday, that he was going to be Jimin’s partner first.

But the small ‘Good luck,’ and smile he gives as you’re both making to go away after handing over your music more than makes up for it.

Jimin leads the way to the corner of the room as the other teams go up in order and give their tracks. There’s silence for a second as you survey each other, trying to figure out just how surreal of a possibility this is.

You break it by mumbling, “Oops.”

All it takes is that stellar wit and ill-placed asinine humour for the tension in his shoulders to drop just a tad and his lips to quirk up, as he nods and says, amused, “Couldn’t have put it better myself.”

“We were going to go up anyway,” you reason, trying to make light of the universe screwing you over.

Agreeing, he replies, “Yeah, and now we can watch the other performers without being too distracted.”

You nod, humming, taking courage in these sad attempts at positivity.

You’re running through the choreography in your head, when you notice Jimin moving next to you, turning to face your body from his previous arms out, wrists rotating position.

“Hey,” he starts softly to get your attention, like you aren’t hyper aware of his presence and that the plan to act on your...romantic feelings is still very much present, even if it isn’t at the forefront of your brain.

You hum in reply, signalling him to continue.

“Regardless of what happens, I’m really glad I got to do this with you.”

You don’t know why you’re caught off guard, but you hide it best as you can when you reply with a smile, the most genuine one you have, “Same here.”

If anybody were to look at you, they’d see that :D emoticon that Tae's so fond of.

You think he’s going to stop there, but even as he turns back and continues stretching, feet shoulder width apart and hands on his hips, he says, “It was a lot of fun and I like dancing with you.”

You feel a warm glow at the comment, a soft shiver running down your spine as you take in the slightly reddish hue of the side of his neck and everything it indicates.

He likes likes you.

You’re not sure what possesses you to say it then, what stupid prank-pulling higher power decides that now would be a good time to do this, less than ten minutes before dancing together so you can’t even escape if things go sideways, but the next thing you know, the words are spilling out from your mouth of their own accord, tumbling over one other in a mad rush of adrenaline and bashfulness and nerves.

“Doyouwannagooutwithmesometime?”

You’re as startled as he is, maybe even more at this betrayal by your own lips, and you wish you could take it back the moment you say it, because now is not the time.

But thankfully, it doesn’t seem like he understood your stupid babble, and at the confused tilt of his head and his soft ‘Excuse me?’, you just shake your head and slowly say, avoiding his eyes, stuttering as your brain works in overtime, “I just said that...we both had a good time. Doing this, I mean. The, er – dancing.”

He accepts the explanation easily, bless his soul, but it’s still a relief when Taemin calls out that the competition is about to start and the two of you are up.

With one last nod and smile, as you force your head and heart to refocus, and manage to do so admirably well considering how close to fucking up you were, you and Jimin exit the room from the side door that leads to the auditorium, softly padding onto the dark stage behind the closed curtains and getting into the start position.

You meet his gaze as they announce your names, and the fabric of his t-shirt feels comfortably warm against your palm as they slowly open the curtains, and hundreds of eyes land on you.

The surrounding lights are bright and the attention nearly deafening, but nothing is quite as blinding and arresting as the look in his eyes as they bore into yours. The subtle pressure of his arm around your waist feels thrillingly familiar, but as you’re both waiting for the cheers to die down and the track to start, he goes off script.

Bending his head slightly, he begins to whisper, so subtly that nobody in the audience can notice unless they’re focusing very intently on his lips. Which...you wouldn’t blame them.

“You have horrible timing, but yes.”

And just like that, before you can even think about pulling away to look at him in shock, the demand for a less cryptic sentence, despite there being absolutely no doubt as to what he’s referring to, hot on your lips accompanied by the tingling certainty you feel when you look at his twinkling eyes that are partly mischievous but more noticeably excited, performance adrenaline taking strong hold, the music begins. With a small squeeze on your waist, he reverts to serious dancer mode from his previous Little Shit setting, taking a deep breath and twirling you away with a wink as you let the relief and joy and excitement flow through your body as you begin the routine.

“What’s this?”

“What’s wha – oh, fuck.”

You practically vault across the bed to get to the other side of your room so you can wrench the paper out of Jimin’s grip. He lets it go easily enough, a little startled at your sudden vehemence but amused nonetheless.

As you furiously rip it apart, not meeting his eyes, he teasingly says, “I’m pretty sure I read my name. Have you been making lists about me?”

“I have not,” you reply hotly, dropping the pieces of paper into your dustbin and gathering yourself so you can face him defiantly.

“It was a...to-do list.”

His eyebrow arches, eyes twinkling as he remarks, “At least take me out first.”

You huff, cheeks burning. “Not like that.”

He takes his shoes off, grin firm on his face as he sits cross-legged on the bed, facing your still shut laptop at the foot. “Well, you’ve got me in your room now, so I’ll let you have your way with me.”

You roll your eyes as you pick up the pizza box and place it on the centre of the bed, getting comfortable next to it.

“Second place isn’t so bad,” Jimin says thoughtfully a few minutes later, as you’re both watching the video buffer as you chew on dinner.

Nodding, feeling a warm glow at the current state of affairs and probably the most calm you’ve been in the last three weeks, not to mention an immeasurable sense of relief at not having to overthink yourself to sleep, you reply, unable to keep the shy smile off of your face, “Yeah, this is nice.”

Not that you've spoken about what this is. After the show, there had been a celebratory hug, which may have been just a tad tighter and a smidge longer than previous hugs, before the two of you were whisked away by the organisers for photos and caught up in a flurry of congratulations. As you had both stood at the back of the auditorium, blending into the shadows like the other participants that came to join you after their shows, watching the dancers on stage, there had been a kind of tension that comes with unresolved conversation. But for once, you were perfectly content just existing. There’s only so much emotional upheaval that you can manage in a day.

There had been brushing hands and awkward eye contact that was diffused by timid giggling and grins, but not much talking. Turns out, you’re both wimps.

And after you two had received second place and, along with Jungkook and Tae, eaten lunch at a nearby restaurant, right before everybody had parted ways, you had given yourself a pep talk, practiced in front of the bathroom mirror around ten times, and then gently tugged Jimin to the side and said, voice carefully controlled and tone slightly less rushed than the last time you had done this, “Hey, do you wanna come over for pizza tonight? And maybe a movie, or something?”

The smile accompanying the ‘Sure, that sounds great!’ you received was blinding, and a little relieved. Jungkook’s reaction when you told him on the way back, after letting him stew in silence for a bit, just for the fun of it, had been offensively surprised, like he hadn’t believed you’d go through with it.

(“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I had utmost faith in your plan.”

“Liar.”)

And now Jimin’s in your room (Jungkook’s probably right outside, ear pressed to the door), food in hand, The Office playing on the laptop screen (you had both agreed that a movie would require an unavailable amount of attention after such a long day), his knee comfortably resting against yours like a constant reminder that he’s there, as if you can forget.

And it’s easy.

Like an upgraded version of the old days, that comes with blushing and giggling and a nosy roommate who's given up trying to be subtle.

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imagines4thefandoms · 3 years

Text

Suddenly in love Pt 1(Zuko x Reader)

Requested: no

word count: 14K

warnings: none

It's been a couple of weeks since You realized that You were in love with your best friend. When You told Katara and Sokka your roommates they told me two things: that they knew since we met and that You should go tell him. You were hesitant at first because You have been best friends with Zuko since y'all were four. You don't want things to get awkward between us. So You checked his location and saw that he was in the park. The drive was about five minutes but time stopped when You saw him. Seeing Zuko now; it was completely obvious that You were in love with him and that You realized that You should have known that You loved him a lot sooner. As You stepped out of your car time stopped again but the time in a bad way. You noticed that Zuko wasn't alone he was kissing some girl.

You quickly turned around and got back into your car. On your way home You got a text from Zuko about how he wanted to tell you something. You knew what he wanted to tell you. But something in you was broken. The stoplight before your turn to go home You just sat there ready to go straight but something in you took over. Instead of going straight, You made a U-turn and put your apartment in your rearview mirror.

I'm not home right now. Later? -Me

Sure. U good? -Zuko

Yea, running errands- Me

The entire drive was like an out of body experience. You knew You were driving but You don't remember driving. When You put the car in park You were at a diner in a different state. After sitting in your car for ten minutes, You walked into the diner and got a table. You were halfway done with your burger when You got a text from katara in the roommate group chat.

Why did Zuko tell me that you were running errands?- Katara

Can you pick up some milk and ice cream? I want milkshakes.- Sokka

Make it chocolate ice cream please!!!!- Aang

I'm not running errands. I lied to Zuko.- Me

Wait! Did you tell Zuko how you feel about him? -Katara

You finally realize you're in love with Zuko.- Suki

No I didn't tell him because I saw him kissing some girl in the park.- Me

The waitress came to your table and refilled your coffee. Your phone went off two more times and You just ignored it. You picked at you fries and just stared out the window til your phone went off again.

Wait so no milkshakes?- Sokka

I'm so sorry (y/n). If you're not running errands, what are you doing?- Katara

We can cancel tonight if you want to.-Aang

The waitress came to take your plate away and she handed you the check. Your hands warmed around the coffee mug and everything around you seemed to disappear. You were about to leave when you took your phone and texted back.

No its movie night. We are not cancelling.- Me

You went to the group chat with everyone not just the people who lives in your apartment and sent a text.

I'm getting milkshakes. What flavor does everyone want?- Me

CHOCOLATE!- Aang

CHOCOLATE!!!!!- Sokka

Vanilla- Katara

Strawberry- Suki

Peanut Butter Banana- Toph

Ok got it. I'll be home in half an hour.- Me

Zuko???? (y/n) the greatest person in the world is getting milkshakes if you don't tell her what kind you want i'm going to take yours.- Sokka

Sokka calm down I already know what flavor Zuko wants. So no extra milkshake for you.- Me

You paid for your meal and left the little diner. You didn't know exactly where You were so You put the address for the milkshake place in your phone and just enjoyed the peaceful ride. Once again You didn't remember driving to the milkshake place. You just walked in and ordered 2 Chocolate, 1 vanilla, 1 strawberry, 1 PB & Banana, and 2 M&M milkshakes. The lady at the shop took about ten minutes to make seven milkshakes. After You secured the milkshakes in your car You got behind the wheel and just sat there.

"Come on (y/n) start the car and go home to enjoy these milkshakes with your friends and Zuko," you said out loud.

When did Zuko become 'and Zuko'. 'God i'm so stupid. Why didn't I notice how I felt about him earlier. He wouldn't be with that girl. He would be with me. Instead of 'and Zuko' You would say 'and my boyfriend'' you thought. Your phone went off and You saw a text from Zuko 'everything ok? Its been longer than thirty minutes. I'm starting to get worried."

"Hey Siri. Reply to Zuko," you called to your phone.

"What do you want to say to Zuko?" Siri replied.

"Stop being overprotective. It took longer than I expected. I will be home in 5 minutes."

"you text says, "stop being overprotective. It took longer than I expected. I will be home in 5 minutes. Would you like to send the text?" Siri asked.

"yes," you replied.

"Message sent."

The drive home felt like it took hours. Red light seemed to take ten minutes and you seemed to catch every red light. You didn't know if it was because you had to actually be somewhere or if the thought of seeing Zuko was causing the time confusion. When you pulled to your apartment building Zuko was waiting outside for you. He walked to the passengers side and helped carry the milkshakes up to your apartment.

"Where you waiting to help me or waiting to make sure I was actually here in 5 minutes?" You asked him unlocking the gate in front of your building that only people who lived here could open.

"Both. What took you so long? You are never late." Zuko replied with a worried look.

You looked in his golden eyes and realized why you loved this man. He cared about you, sure he was over protective but it was sweet. Zuko has always been there for you since you two met. You gave him a smile as he held the door to the building open for you.

"Relax i'm fine. I just didn't realize how far away I was."

Y'all took the elevator up to the third floor. Zuko as usual was hovering over you. A month ago you would have yelled at him about being overbearing but now its like he isn't close enough. The quiet that surrounded y'all was, for the first time ever, awkward. You kept glancing over at him to drink in every inch of him like it was your first time seeing him.

"Oh I wanted to tell you something. I met this girl. She's funny, smart, and beautiful," Zuko said turning to face you.

"That's awesome ZUZU. Im happy for you," you replied and you could of swore that you heard your heart break into a million pieces.

"Thanks her name is Mai. I think I really like her."

The elevator doors opened and the stale awkward air was replaced with the gross air of your apartment floor. The two of you walked down the hallway to your door with the number 312. Zuko took the milkshakes out of you hands so your could grab your keys from your purse. Just as you unlocked the door Sokka quickly opened it and grabbed the milkshakes out of Zuko's hands.

"(y/n) you are the best person in the entire world. I love you so much," Sokka said bringing the milkshakes to the kitchen.

"Don't let Suki hear you confess your love for me Sokka," you replied as you entered the apartment and locking the door behind you.

"You got him to shut up about milkshakes. You are the best and I love you too," Suki said getting off the couch.

Everyone grabbed their milkshake and went back to their seats. You head to your room and throw your purse on your bed before grabbing your milkshake. Zuko handed it to you and thanks you for the milkshake. Aang picked the movie tonight, which was "Kung Fu Panda". You and Zuko sat on the couch next to each other and enjoyed the milkshakes while Aang started the movie.

The movie was almost over but you where getting kinds sleepy from all the driving you did today. The two love sick couples went to bed which left Toph, Zuko, and you in the living room watching/ listening to the movie. Your eyes started to get heavy so you rested your head on Zuko's shoulders. In that moment, everything felt right with the world. Zuko had his arm wrapped around you as you fell asleep. Toph said something about Zuko being stupid but you were too tired to listen. The last thing you remembered before going to sleep was Zuko playing with your hair while your head rested in his lap.

PART 2

#zuko x reader #zuko x mai #zuko imagine #avatar imagine

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dancingthesambaa · 3 years

Text

The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 7

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black-furred monkey put out a hand towards him

Rating: Teen and up

Chapter 7: Hero Born From The Shadows

“Selfie!” Mei posed as she took a picture of herself once she won the race.

“Mei!” MK excitedly said as he laid down flat on the ground with his arms raised high.

“MK!” She cheerfully picked him up, “Man that was one wicked race!”

“We almost died,” he weakly said.

“That’s life!” She joked, not understanding he was serious, “now how about we play some Monkey Mech! You can even invite your friend over!”

“Mei, he tried to kill me,” he said once more.

“Okay in that case,” she took out her phone and had an eerie red button right on the screen as she said with a wide smile that promised retribution, “Where does he live?”

“MK WHAT ARE YOU DOING!”

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!!” The trio yelled in laughter at MK's joke.

“I’m not kidding!” He jumped up and down as he carried the staff, “this is the Monkey King Staff! I’ll prove it to you!”

“Okay, how?” Piggy crossed his arms.

“Ummm,” MK held the staff closer to his chest as he began to nervously play with it, when suddenly it retreated inward then suddenly extended all the way to the table Tang and Mei was sitting at and crushed it.

There was a silence as the unbelievable just happen then Tang wildly sputtered out.

“HUBABABABABA Monkey King staff!” He rushed over to MK arm that was carrying the staff and held it up high, “I knew it all along! It is the legendary staff that was used to seal away evil!” Then he paused as he realized the implications and looked to MK, “wait a minute, why do you have it?”

“Okay I’ll bite, if the staff is here, where is the Demon punk now?” Pigsy questioned as he was still iffy on this entire thing.

“He’s at the shoe store,” Mei cheerily stated.

“What?” They all walk to Mei with her phone out.

“This better not be one of your dog videos.” He can’t even tell how many times she shoved that phone in his face when she was coping at that drooling menace.

“Ha! There’s always time for a puppy video, but no he’s trending,” she showed them a picture of a large Bull demon and a familiar flame head boy, “like #DemonBullKing.”

“Holy shit, this ain’t no joke,” Pigsy jaw dropped.

“What do we do?” Tang hesitantly asked

“…I have to go to Flower Fruit Mountain,” they all turned to look at MK. “If the only one who was able to stop the Demon Bull King was Monkey King then I need to go there.”

“Are you hearing yourself?” Pigsy stomped over to him, “we’re talking about a mountain that is surrounded by fuck tons of dangers. Have you not heard of the flaming mountains? It’s the reason why no one has been able to get close to the mountain in the first place?”

“Then what are we supposed to do?!” MK took a step forward, “Monkey King is the only one who is able to stop Bull King back then and the only one now.”

Mei opened her mouth to say something, but decided to close it and just wait.

“Kid look I know this is all a bit scary, but why do you think that you have to do this?”

“Well I have the staff and I can carry it, for some reason,” he whispered the last part then he put on a more determined face, “but more importantly someone needs to.”

Pigsy stared him down as the boy did the same, then the pig demon sighed as he picked up his car keys “Everyone go to the car, it seems we’re taking a trip.”

“Yes!/Roadtrip!/Flower Fruit Mountain!” The trio of humans all cheered as they made their way out, though Mei did slow her steps so that she could match MK.

“So when is Mackie getting here,” she abruptly said.

“Huh?”

“I mean he must have definitely heard your screams by now and I’m not even including the sounds of terror that everyone must be doing right now. We both know that he would already be on his way,” she added.

“Oh, um actually funny thing. He is currently not anywhere near the city right now,” he wilted at Mei’s dumbfounded look.

“What.”

“Yeahhhh he had a call for a medical emergency and he is kinda days away from here,” he scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh my god, talk about bad timing,” she dragged her hand over her face, “well you should definitely call him and let him know what’s up.”

“…you know, I was thinking that maybe, and hear me out here, maybe we don’t call him,” he squeaked out.

“MK I love you like a brother, but what kind of nonsense are you saying,” she stopped the two of them and put her hands on his shoulder. “We’re talking about the same crazy brain worry of an immortal demon monkey that would fret over every last injury if you let him and you're telling me you're not even gonna say anything?!”

“I mean we can wait until he gets back, I just don’t want to bother him when he’s working.”

“But it’s even worse when you don’t say anything! MK you have to-,” she was cut off by Pigsy yells.

“Hurry it up you two! Fate of the world and everything!”

“Oh well looks like we got to go,” MK hurried out of her grasp and quickly went to the car.

“This is not over!” She yelled as she chased after him.

“Lalala! I can’t hear you!”

“Save it for the road,” the pig demon called out.

“Where exactly are we going anyway?” Tang asked, “Can’t exactly get to Flower Fruit mountain by car.”

“I know a guy who can help us out, he is one of the meanest, toughest demons that I have ever met. If anyone can help us get there it’s him.”

Pigsy was lying on the ground in total defeat as everyone was all sitting in Sandy's living room as the big bad demon happily talked about some of his relaxing hobbies and activities.

“He sure is tough,” Tang smirked as he sipped his tea.

“Shut up,” moaned the demon.

Sandy stopped in the middle of his talk when he felt a small tap on his hip as the small pigtail girl began to beg with glistening eyes.

“Oh great Sandy sir, we could really use your help getting to Flower Fruit mountain,” she clasped her hands together.

MK quickly joined her as he went on his knees and began to plead, “please, the fate of the world depends on it.”

“Okay,” he nonchalantly said.

“Really/That was easy,” both teenagers questioned.

“Anything for Pigsy and Mac. I can get you there, but it ain’t a pleasant trip.”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!” They cheered as they jumped around, but stopped in midair as what he said fully hit them. “Wait, you know Dad/Fuzzbutt?”

“Yeah, we have tea together sometimes,” the gentle giant smiled.

“Dad has a tea time buddy?” MK blinked a few times.

“Honestly not the most surprising thing about him,” Mei added. “He regularly hangs with Ní when he wants to take a nap.”

“…I hope they're going to be okay,” MK said as he thought back to all of the animals, creatures, and demons living in the forest. “I’m a bit worried.”

The twenty year old girl snorted, “I’m not, have you seen them? They can tear down groves of trees because they couldn’t share their favorite tree.”

“True,” not only the demons or creatures, but also the animals know how to put up a fight. He even once saw a chipmunk bite off the finger of a hunter before.

“Besides they have BaBa and ain’t no thing or demon is going through her,” she said in complete certainty.

“Yeahhh, she's pretty awesome.”

“Alright let’s get moving,” Sandy said as the two talked to one another. Then he looked towards Pigsy, “I’m telling you now old friend, if things get hairy I’m not the same demon as I was before. I don’t go around picking fights.”

“…ahhh, things have changed haven’t they,” he sighed, “We seriously need to have a talk later.”

“Speaking of talk, has anyone told Macaque about this?” The historian raised his eyebrow.

The two stop short as the pig demon slightly blanches as he whispers out loud, “hold shit, Mac is gonna kill me for bringing his kids into this.”

“Don’t think like that,” Sandy tried to comfort him, “I’m sure that he will be perfectly reasonable about all of this once we explain what went down.”

“Oh he’s not gonna kill us,” Tang said as he slowly began to get color back on his skin.

“Yeah, you're right-.”

“He’s gonna kill the Demon Bull King,” he bluntly said.

“…,” Pigsy had no words for that.

“Oh yeah, yeah he might be a tad bit angrier with him,” Sandy nodded. “Well let’s get this show on the road, Mo initiate the launch sequence!”

“Launch?!” They all questioned as they saw a blue bat leap up from his shoulder and next to the wheel where a big red button was and the car happily pressed it.

Everyone was startled as the whole ship began to shake and various noises rang out, they all ran outside to see that the ship was now supporting a few new features, one of them being three large turbo boosters.

“Onwards to Flower Fruit mountain!” Sandy called out as then the ship took out in a flash as they sped across the ocean.

“Oh yeahhhh!”

“Thank you so much for your help,” the Panda demon bowed lowly as the rest of his students did the same, “without your aid, I feared they all may have not survived.”

“Yeah, I thought that I was holding Yama's hands for a second there,” a crane, one of the students, joked.

“Just try not to take on anymore poisonous elephant demons for a bit, I rather not have to come back here and do this all over again,” Mac said as he adjusted his hold on his bag.

“Oh believe me, we won’t,” a tiger demon nodded.

“Whatever happened to him anyway?” a hippo student asked.

“He won’t be bothering us anymore,” they all look down to see the sheep demon smile at her friend’s serenely.

“W-what does that mean?”

“He won’t be bothering us anymore,” she repeated herself with the same tone.

“I’m not touching that with a ten foot pole,” the tiger muttered under his breath.

“I still can’t believe that people still think that’s she the harmless one,” a large dark wolf said as the rest of them nodded.

“It’s kinda hilarious,” the monkey smirked, he still remembered walking in on her, when he used to make deliveries, and saw her standing on top of a pile of unconscious demons. “Well, I have to head out now.”

“I wish you safe travels on your journey back,” Po smiled.

“Thanks, hopefully my kiddos didn’t get into too much trouble.”

“Have some faith in them, I’m sure they are just fine.”

“AHHH!” They all screamed as they scattered away from the fireball heading towards them.

Luckily, both MK and Mei managed to nimbly land on their feet despite the surprise attack, Pigsy was less than lucky as he fell on his back.

“Pigsy!” They yelled out and helped him up.

“Hahaha,” the wind demon lightly chuckled as she held out her hand, “I’ll be taking that staff now.”

The teenagers got into position as they glared at her, “this belongs to the Monkey King, there is no way you’ll take it!”

“Awww, playing to be a hero, sorry to disappoint but playtime is over.”

Mei and MK looked at one another and without words being shared they split off onto either side running.

“Kids!” Pigsy worriedly cried out as he tried to follow after them, but was stopped by a burst of lava emerging from the cracks.

“Aww, cute,” Princess Iron Fan smirked as she kept her eyes solely on the staff, “you think you stand a chance.” Then her eyes widened as she felt a small aura behind her and she quickly used the wind to push it back, it did little as she dodged a blow to her head.

“Ha! You call that wind? I know a vulture that can easily surpass that for her morning fly,” Mei mocked as she began to swipe at the demon with her sword.

“Little girl, you know not of what-,” she quickly dropped down as she felt a small gust of wind aimed towards her and she was only grateful that she did as she saw that Sun Wukong staff was aimed at her head.

“Don't you dare underestimate us!” MK yelled out as he backed up.

“You little-!” She winced as she felt a blow to her side.

“Should have kept your eyes on me bitch,” Mei grinned as she drew her glowing sword back and went for another.

“That’s enough,” she calmly said, though if one were to look carefully they would see that her fists were curled up in a ball as her eyes glowed a dull red. She then held out her hand, which transformed into the same glove that removed the staff, to block the staff aimed towards her.

“What?” That was all MK could say before he was blown back far away past the mountain.

“AHHHHHHHH!”

“No MK!” Mei screamed with tears in her eyes, not noticing a certain demon freeze up at the name, as she attempted to follow her brother.

“Mei, we got to go,” Pigsy choked out as he rushed to her and picked her up to run as the teenager struggled over his shoulder. “I’m sorry kid.”

Princess Iron Fan was silent as she looked to the two mortals running away from her then to the ocean where she blew the child mortal away. She said nothing as she tightly gripped the staff in hand then vanished away, she needed to go to her husband after all.

The boat was silent as it gently floated along the ocean as the remaining occupants tried to swallow what just happened.

“I’m sorry MK,” Pigsy whispered out as he looked down to the clear water, he didn’t even flinch when a familiar hand touched his shoulder.

“Pigsy,” Sandy quietly said.

“There was nothing we could do,” Tang said with his back turned.

“Nothing? Nothing! I could have done something!” Pigsy marched over to the human with rage as he grabbed his shoulder to see Tang's sorrowful face, “I could have-I should have protected MK! I made a promise to not only Mac but to myself that I would! And now…,” he trailed off as his whole body went slack and let go of his scarf. “It’s over, there is nothing we can do.”

“It’s not over,” he turned up with tears in his eyes to look at his friend, “MK may be lost, but we can make sure no more lives are lost. Make sure that his sacrifice wasn’t in vain.”

Pigsy could only nod as he wiped the tears in his eyes as Sandy put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Someone has to pay,” the trio looked over to Mei who hadn’t said a word till now. “Someone has to fight.”

“Mei?”

She quickly wiped her face as she continued with her backs to them, “that demon bitch is going to,” she turned around with a forced smile on her face as they all felt an ominous presence among them as lighting and thunder roared in fury, “pay.”

They all nodded as a determination filled them all as they mentally and physically got prepared for the battle arising.

Mei looked out to the ocean once more and gripped the rails tightly.

‘I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you MK, but I’ll make damn sure we’ll end this. This is for you…by the gods how am I gonna tell Makkie?’

“Ugghhh,” MK moaned out as he slowly came to consciousness, he felt two furry hands in his hair even with his eyes still closed. “Just five more minutes Dad.”

“Ooo?”

His eyes snap open as he realized that this wasn’t his Dad as he awoke to a white furred monkey standing on top of his stomach, “uhh hi?”

The monkey tilts his head.

MK gives a small smile as he remembers the times when a monkey back home would climb onto him, “this feels familiar.”

The monkey eyes then glint as several more appear with the same glint.

His face falls, “nevermind this seems more familiar,” he says as he quickly rolls over from the monkeys’ attack and stands up.

All of them looked over to him and it looked like they were about to give chase before they paused and tilted their head as they recognized a familiar smell on him, but then they saw him stand up so that thought exited quickly as they all scurried off.

“I swear, what is with monkeys and my hair,” he grumbled as he then turned to see the ocean in front of him with the volcanic plain just bordering.

“Wha-gha!” He clutched his head as memories of what happened travel all throughout his head. “Right, that…where am-,” he cut himself off as he turned around to see a beautiful mountain towering above him.

“Flower Fruit mountain.”

He gazed at it for a few moments before he got his hearing back and began to rush to the mountain.

“Hello! Monkey King!? You in here!?” He called out as he stepped into the magical cave inside the magic waterfall, which also held magical drawings that came to life. “Can really use your help? Things aren’t looking good!”

He stopped as he waited for an answer, but as he stood there, nothing replied back. It was only him and a small house in front of him.

“GHA!” He kicked over a rock in frustration as he began to look around. He was not about to give up that easily though he did pause when a small butterfly approached him and landed on his nose. “At least someone here,” he jokingly said with a small smile.

“Yep I am!” It replied.

“AH!” He screamed as he flailed his arms at the unexpected response.

“Yes yes it is I,” the butterfly said once more as it fluttered to the ground, “the great monkey-oof!”

“Is it dead?” He questioned as he slowly lifted his foot, he was not about to take any chances, especially not with what happened last time he met with a small talking bug. He and Tang can still feel the icky grossness crawling up their spines, they can never unfeel what has been felt.

Then the bug began to glow.

“What??”

It grew bigger, its form was fluid as it didn’t take shape at first, but then it transformed into a hawk then it soared high and landed as it tiger then the tiger began to stand on its legs as it transformed into a bear until finally, it transformed one last time into a monkey.

A very familiar monkey.

The first thought that entered MK's head when he saw the monkey was that he was taller than he expected him to be. In fact, he even thinks that he’s taller than his Dad.

The second thought was acknowledging that the Monkey King was standing right before him.

“Yep the one and only,” he stood tall as he looked around the room. “Sooo, where’s my staff?” He took a step back when he saw the kid's eyes well up with tears.

“I am so sorry!” He began his rant as he tried to explain what happened and how he messed up royally when he heard laughter.

“Look kid, I have to come clean,” he looked up to see that the Monkey King was kneeling as he put his hand on his shoulder. “I’ve been kinda watching you.”

“Huh?” Then his eyes widen as he remembers all the times he has seen the strange occurrences appear. “Wait what?!”

“Pfft! The look on your face is perfect!” He laughed out loud.

“Perfect for what?!” He was making absolutely no sense right now.

“To be my successor!” He started with a deep voice as he crossed both his arms.

“Uhhh what have you been drinking? Are you sure you’re the Monkey King? I think you may have a brief stint with insanity due to the isolation. I have some herbal remedies that can help with that,” he poked and prodded at the monkey. He felt a tail wrap around him and place him down, he had to stop the sudden urge of twisting the tail hard to let him go, he still remembers all the times Dad did it to him during training. He flew so high up.

“Listen kid, you fought demons and you didn’t die,” he casually said as he opened a bag of chips. “And you made it here, not anyone can lift my staff, but you did.”

“But what about DBK?” He urged him.

“Pfft, what about him,” he summoned his cloud as he laid on it while eating said chips, “you can handle it.”

A small part of MK really wanted to throttle the Monkey King at that moment, but his desperation and anxiety outweighed his irritation as he stumbled upon his words, “but I-I can’t…ahhh.”

This made the monkey pause and he gave an exaggerated sigh as he walked over to the kid and put a comforting hand on his shoulder, “look if you can lift the staff you can use it. Just believe in yourself, even a smidge makes all the difference.”

MK looked up at him and gave a small smile, he may not have the best self-esteem, but he damn well is not gonna stop.

“Now then,” he dramatically began, “the staff was taken from you, take it back.”

MK's smile then turned into a wide toothy grin, “alright.”

Wukong gave a smile to his new successor, but something in the back of his mind nagged him that MK grin reminded of someone, but he can’t quite put his finger on it.

“Ughhhh,” laid a collapsed Red Son as he groaned in pain at the jet impact.

Everyone else was in shocked silence as they watch MK slowly crawl out of the wreckage.

“Man, that was worse than the time we tried swinging from the vines for the first time.”

“MK!” Mei rushed over to him and gave him the tightest hug, “I thought you were-you know and I saw you blast off in the fire, but you are here and alive! I am so glad I don’t have to tell fuzzbutt about your death. Wait, how'd you get a jet? Wait! Is Monkey King here?!”

“Well no, he said it’s up to me…us,” he smiled slightly at her.

“Well that was anticlimactic and sorta stupid,” she muttered the last part under her breath. Then they all felt the earth shake beneath them and looked up to see an oversized Demon Bull King.

“And how are we meant to fight that?” Tang incredulously called out the question on everyone's minds.

The teenager looked at the towering menace and back to his hands and gripped it tight as he pulled his hair into a tighter ponytail, “we believe in ourselves.”

BOOM!

The ground shook once more.

“…somehow.”

“A jet would have been nice right about now,” she mused as she kicked the pile of rubble. Then out of it slowly emerged a smaller, but still very cool looking, motorcycle.

“That will work!” He said as he hopped on the bike.

“Go get him buddy!” She cheered for him and he gave a quick nod before zooming off, leaving the rest of them behind.

“You know how I said before about Mac killing us and the Bull King,” Tang suddenly said.

“Wait what?” Mei raised an eyebrow at the absurd topic.

“Yeahhh?” Pigsy drawled out.

“Well I think we can safely assume that the Monkey King is now on that list.”

“Oh yeah/Most definitely,” both pink and blue demons respectively said as the pigtailed teenager couldn’t help but laugh.

“Fuccck that hurts,” he moaned out as he attempted to free himself from the rubble.

“You thought you could defeat me!” The Bull King laughed as he made his way towards the mortal. “I will not let a little thief take victory from my grasp.”

MK, who was panicking, quickly tried to find ways out of this, but then he heard a faint noise and looked up to see the arcade sign slightly glowing.

“Just believe in yourself, even a smidge makes all the difference,” he couldn’t help but think back to the Monkey King’s words, but there was also another.

“It will be hard, no doubt.” He heard his father's voice echo through his mind as the pain slowly subsided, “and at times it may seem like the whole world is against you, but know that you still have tomorrow waiting for you. So keep your head held high and look towards the stars, cause that right there is your limit starlight.”

And he does, he is looking past the arcade sign and looks towards the stars that make the faintest appearance among the darkening sky.

Only one thought was clear in his mind when those words combined as he slammed his staff down.

‘I can do this.’

Then an amalgamation of parts from various buildings, streets, and other places began to structure itself together to make a red and gold mech suit with a violet headband and cape.

“It’s time for your family to be brought to justice,” MK yelled out as he pushed the mech forward as he dived bomb down to the demon. “Here comes Monkie Kid!”

The giant staff impacted the demon with a loud burst of energy and sound.

BOOOOOMMMMM!

Six ears suddenly perked up at the unexpected noise as the owner of said ears' eyes widened as that was coming from the same direction he was heading.

He picked up his pace.

“And I was all like, ‘I have to finish this once and for all’ and I started glowing!” MK excitedly said as he gobbled down another bowl of noodles.

“And then what!” Tang and Mei excitedly asked.

“And I cut a building in half and dropped it on him!”

“Coool!”

“I still can’t believe that happened,” Pigsy snorted as he ate his bowl, “scratch that I can’t believe that all of this happened.”

“I can, it just happened in front of our eyes,” Sandy joked.

“Seeing is believing…I guess,” he threw his hands in the air as he winced as he felt a sharp pain, “fuck.”

“Are you okay?” Tang had noticed Pigsy winces and went over to his side to examine.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered as he tried to focus on anything except the warm hands against his neck.

Sandy didn’t comment on just how fast Tang shot to the pig demon side and instead stood up, “I’m going to look behind back, you still keep your bandages underneath the second drawer?”

“Yeah, but I think I ran out,” he answered, “used it up when some maniac decided to throw water over the counter in a fit of anger and landed right on the handle of a boiling pot of water.”

“Yikes, well I can see what I can find.”

“You know at times like these I wish Mac was here,” Tang said as both Mei and MK nodded.

Boom

Everyone then jumped up at the sound of the door slamming open and turned to see the one and only Macaque looking at all of them with shock.

“What in the hell happened?!” He almost screamed out as when he first walked into the city he could hear the sounds of screams and destruction emitting everywhere. The scenery was no better as buildings collapsed, streets were uprooted, and people were all hiding or unconscious in various states. He rushed over to find his kid's heartbeat and then sighed in relief as he heard their voices and booked it over to them as fast as he could. Though before he could say anything else as he looked at their disbelieved, bruised, but still very much alive appearance before he could let a smile form, his eyes happened to lock onto a familiar bo staff in his son's hand.

“What the fuck?” He whispered out.

“Guess what Dad! I met the Monkey King!” MK excitedly said as he waved the staff around excitedly.

“What the fuck?” He said a little bit louder.

“And I’m the Monkey King successor!” He added on not knowing that the sentence almost gave Macaque psychic damage at the sheer revelation.

The monkey could only stare as he felt his eye twitch, he then took a deep breath to calm himself down, it did not work as well as he hoped. “What in the actual fuck did I miss?”

“Oh yeah, so the city totally got terrorized by the Demon Bull King and his family after the staff was pulled out, so we kicked some ass and MK here saved the day,” Mei proudly stated.

He can almost feel a migraine coming on as he began to rummage through his bag and brought out rolls of gauzes and various small bottles, “okay first, all of you sit your asses down and let me check the damage, and once that shit is over, you will tell me the what the fuck went down when I get a drink.”

“Plum Tea?” MK said.

“Gonna need something a little more stronger than that for this can of bullshit,” he whispered to himself. “By the gods what the actual fuck Wukong?”

“What you say?” Tang asked.

“I said sit your asses down!”

“Dad we’re all f-”

“Just by a glance I can see that some of you are suffering from some second degree burns, lacerations, bruises, and all types of other shit. So you either sit your asses down so I can fix you up or I will knock you unconscious and take it from there,” he threatened.

They all immediately sat down, even Sandy who plopped himself on the floor.

“I swear, can’t even leave for two weeks without shit happening,” he grumbled as he made multiple shadow clones to help make the process faster.

The moon shone high in the sky as many people were laid to rest. Some wounded, some crying, some joyful, some mourning, and some dead. No one still knew exactly what happened, but those thoughts could wait until tomorrow. For now, after the terror and agony they all suffered, it was time to close their eyes and let the nightmares encompass them or a blank passage of nothingness if they're lucky.

The same was said for the ones who helped stop the malicious terror that had once plagued the city, they all lay sleeping in a cozy apartment living room.

Sandy was happily snoring on the floor with Mo as he then was slightly lifted to place a pillow underneath him and a blanket draped over as well.

Tang and Pigsy were snuggled next to each other on the couch, with the pig demon head tucked underneath the human head, as another blanket dropped from above.

Finally, the youngest was curled up with one another, Mei having one arm around MK’s shoulder, leaning against the couch. Their loose blanket was brought back up as it was meticulously tucked then two furry hands softly ruffled both of their heads as they only slightly shifted.

Macaque looked at them with only sheer fondness as he fixed them up. Then his eyes narrowed and couldn't help but linger on their neatly wrapped bandages on both them and everyone else.

He made his way to the window.

“What happened today will not happen again,” the Bull King growled out as his body slowly healed itself. He is still not back to full strength yet, even when his powers had increased tremendously due to the no staff. After all, one couldn’t easily rise from the grave in full health without the assistance of miracle medicine.

“Of course it won’t, we were merely…unprepared after all,” Princess Iron Fan said as she silently stirred her drink. “You have just woken up from imprisonment.”

“Imprisonment heh, that is one way to say that damnation,” he huffed.

“But next time we will be prepared father,” Red Son confidently said.

“Hmph,” he grunted out as his mind was still racing as he thought back to the small mortal boy, “who was that little thief who claims to be the successor of Sun Wukong?” He snarled the last part out.

“Oh he is just a noodle boy who got lucky,” the flame demon huffed as the wind demon stayed silent.

“Well that luck seems to let him wield the staff, so there is some truth in his foul words. Either way, while he is no threat, he is a nuisance and you know what we do with pests” he stood up and his shadow seemed to grow in intensity with each and every word he spoke.

“We crush them,” the boy grinned savagely.

“Under our feet,” he stomped his large hoof in emphasis.

“Yeah, I have a bit of a problem with that,” a voice rang out and before anyone could react, the Bull King was suddenly pinned down by a large violet one-eyed form that emerged from his shadows.

“What is this!?” He yelled out as he struggled to break free, but it proved to be tough as his injuries weren’t fully healed.

“Father!” Red Son began to rush over but was stopped by his own shadow as well. “How dare you! Get your peasant hands off of me!”

Princess Iron Fan, the only one still free, barely reacted as a form from her own shadow began to come out, but instead of capturing her, it turned around to face them all.

“I was too naive to think it was merely a coincidence,” she sighed as the shadowy form revealed itself a very familiar simian face.

“Hey Flicker, Raki,” Macaque casually said to Red Son and Iron Fan as his eyes glinted a hostile violet, “it seems that we need to talk.”

“Six-Eared Macaque!” DBK stilled his movements, no matter how much the urge to break free, as he looked to the medicine monkey, “what treachery has overcome you that you dare make a move against us?”

Red Son couldn’t say a word as he looked at the demon, instead, his eyes were blasted open wide in confusion.

“Usually nothing,” he shrugged as he took a step towards them, “I don’t get up all in your shit when you swing by for some medicine and you don’t short change me.”

“It would be foolish,” Iron Fan said as she set down her cup with a small clink.

“Tell that to some demons,” he said as he took another step forward, “usually you guys are no problem, but now you became a problem.”

“You never interfered with our plans before, what makes this time so different,” he spat out.

“When you attacked my kids,” he bluntly stated with a snarl on his lips as his eyes glowed a bit brighter.

This stilled both father and son, but not the mother who pinched her nose.

“I was afraid of that.”

“You should be,” he sneered out as the shadows all around grew in intensity as they crawled up the walls leaving the area there in almost total darkness.

“Wait kids?! Do you mean noodle boy and biker girl?” Red Son asked as he flinched as the eyes locked onto him.

“MK and Mei, I know I told you about them plenty of times,” he drawled out.

“I didn’t realize they were the same ones,” he horrifyingly whispered out.

“Apparently not many do, so here’s what’s gonna happen,” he said with an even tone, “unless they have attacked you first, you will not lay a fucking hand on either of them, cause if you do, well I won’t be very…kind,” his voice echoed throughout the caves. “Do we have a deal?”

“Deal,” the Queen said first.

“Deal,” the Prince agreed next.

“…Deal,” the King lowly said.

“Good,” the shadows vanished in a poof and both Bull King and Red Son were freed and the cavern walls were once again illuminated by the soft glow of light, “I’m glad we can come to an agreement.”

“Will you still supply us?” She asked as she got down to business, he may have just threatened them, but he is currently the only demon nearby, and most experienced, with not only knowledge of medicine, but can acquire precious materials.

“Same charge,” he waved off as he began to walk away, “and Flicker, Sandy really?”

“It didn’t occur to me he was there until after I attacked,” he winced as he voiced his embarrassment, he didn’t notice his therapist was there until all was said and done. He should probably be grateful that Sandy usually goes with the flow, else he really would be screwed.

“Good luck on the next session,” he smirked, “Also, Daiyu wants a spar sometime, she misses having to fight against a fire demon,” he said. Daiyu has some issues going on in her mind, but that ain’t any of his business. He absolutely does not want to know what goes on in there.

Red Son blinks momentarily as she stands up straight and begins to boast, “As if she can hold her own against me! Tell her I will meet her in due time and she best be prepared.”

“Will do,” and like that he merged back with the shadows and vanished from sight.

“So what do we do now mother, father?” He looked towards both of his parents.

“We will honor the deal we made,” Iron Fan stated.

“Of course,” he didn’t even have to think to agree with that, even without the deal he still wouldn’t have attacked anything Macaque had claimed.

“And we will get stronger,” DBK finished as he stood up and began to walk away. He had no trifles with the Six Eared Macaque, even now when he wishes to wrap his hands against the monkey's throat for his words against him and his own, but he won’t. The two may have strict business relations, though the same can’t be said for his son and wife who seems to be on more…friendlier terms with him, he has a smidge of respect for the medicine monkey. He has heard the tales, both myth and reality, and he can acknowledge that the demon strove to his power through sheer cunning and wit, even if he had to stick to the shadows to achieve that.

So no, he will not go against the monkey deal, he has more integrity than that, but he will not show mercy if those mortals attempt to go against him.

“We will be unstoppable,” Red Son grinned as he made his way to his workshop. He had some inventions he’s been meaning to build.

Princess Iron Fan silently watched both her husband and son go in opposite directions. She gave a small sigh as she picked her cup back up and held it into her hands.

“It seems that the winds have changed once more, I wonder which direction it will blow.” She asked herself as she took a sip of her tea, then she scrunched up her nose at just how cold it was.

Oh yeah, I’ve been keeping the two of their reveal in my back pocket for this moment XD Props to anyone who may have figured it out along the way!

#lego monkie kid #six eared macaque #macaque #mk #monkie kid #monkey king #PlumTeaAU

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