#my actual dad and my random dude roommates i live with this year | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

adhd-disaster-willie · 3 years

Text

you're the one that brings the sun; chapter 1/6

Summary: Alex is prepared for every single variable except, apparently, the one in which his roommate is drop dead gorgeous and Alex is an absolute clusterfuck of a human being who falls for the first pretty boy on he sees on campus.

Willex roommate au!

Warnings: Swearing

Notes: The title is from the song “I Dare You” by the Regrettes. I’ve actually planned this fic out so here’s to hoping I don’t get burned out halfway through. It might end up having 6 or 7 chapters, 5 is kind of just an estimate.

---

When Alex was 11, his mother proudly plastered his report card to the fridge and exclaimed that one day, her little boy would go to Harvard. His father gripped his shoulder with pride and Alex beamed up at his parents like they’d just told him he had superpowers. 3 years later, he was 14 and teetering on the edge of failure in the majority of his classes. He wasn’t stupid by any means, just preoccupied. He’d started a band with his best friends and that felt like the most important thing in the whole world, and high school was new and scary, so it was easier to not pour all his focus into school. His parents’ smiles faltered but they kept up hope, Alex could tell. 2 years later, he stood shaking and crying outside of the Molina’s garage and suddenly, the concept of going to college begun to feel distant and fake. But he’s 18 now, and somehow, miraculously, gazing at the piles of boxes in the back of Ray’s car and swallowing down a lump in his throat.

It sure isn’t Harvard, but a part of Alex feels giddy at the fact that he’s attending a public college that was relatively easy to get into; oh his parents would be rolling in their proverbial graves. What didn’t make him quite so happy though, was the looming fact that he’d be living with some random person, because for some godforsaken reason, the college wouldn’t allow freshmen to choose their roomates. Some bullshit about meeting new people and socializing.

“Hey, ‘Lex. Dude, you’ll be fine.” Luke shakes his shoulders, before swinging one arm around him and the other around Reggie.

“Says the one who isn’t even going to college,” Alex grumbles, slipping from Luke’s grip and into the front seat of the car.

“Yea cause I don’t need it. Not my fault you’re both nerds,” Luke retorts.

“I’m not a nerd, I just like to have insurance-”

“Yea, back-up plan, safety net, heard it a million times. Reggie’s a nerd though.”

“Old news, dude,” Alex says.

“I am not a nerd!” Reggie protests indignantly.

“Tell that to your 2 years of college credit in math.”

Luke nods in agreement. “Nerd.”

“Math is fun!”

“You’re horrible.” Alex makes a mock gagging noise.

Julie comes bounding out of the house, her arms decked with various baked goods. She tosses herself in the backseat beside Reggie and Luke, looking quite pleased with herself at being able to force Luke to sit in the middle. “Tía was apparently up all night baking,” she explains, passing the sweets up to Alex. “Don’t be surprised if she shows up at your dorm with food every day.”

Alex snorts. “I would not object to that.”

Julie sighs, leaning back in her seat. “You guys are so lucky, I’m tired of high school. Damn September birthday,” Julie grumbles. Her birthday is just after the cut off date, so she would be 18 for the majority of senior year, but is just barely too young to be in the same grade as the boys.

Reggie leans over and pats her arm sympathetically, earning an offended squeak from Luke, who’s only pushed further into the back of the seat.

“Don’t worry!” Alex chirps sarcastically. “You get to spend more time with Luke, since he’ll be squatting in your garage!”

“Oh, joy,” Julie deadpans.

“I am not a squatter!” Luke protests, kicking the back of Alex’s seat.

“No kicking! I’m holding food!”

“Y’know Alex, you’ve been staying in the studio for 2 years, you’re not one to talk!” Luke argues.

“I have a job.”

“A stupid job.”

“A stupid job that gets you free coffee.”

Reggie nodds to that, chewing on a cookie. “Can’t risk losing your coffee privileges.”

Julie groans loudly and stuck her head out the window. “DAAAAD! Let’s goooo!” She cries.

“Wow, I didn’t know you wanted to get rid of me so badly,” Alex says, clutching his chest dramatically.

“Oh shut up Lexi, I just wanna meet your’s and Reggie’s new best friends!” Julie says, laughing.

“I’m not gonna be best friends with my roommate.”

“Yea, Alex forgot how to do that!”

“Luke I will smother you in your sleep!”

At this, Ray approaches the car with a raised eyebrow. “No one’s planning a murder, I hope?” He asks, chuckling as he slides into the drivers seat.

“No sir!” Reggie replies, grinning.

“Not yet,” Alex mumbles under his breath.

“Alright boys, who’s ready for college!” Ray says, starting the car.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

---

“And that’s the last of it!” Ray claps a hand over Alex’s shoulder and smiles encouragingly.

Alex nods tensely, gripping the strap of his fannypack tighter.

The dorm’s probably as good as he’s gonna get. One reasonably sized bedroom complete with two horribly uncomfortable beds, a kitchen with a fridge that was in no way large enough to fit even a weeks worth of meals, a tiny living room that would probably fit a couch and a TV at the most, and a bathroom that smelled suspiciously of mustard. Really it isn’t terrible, but Alex has a habit of noticing every little detail, especially the ones that could be a problem at some point. His roommate hasn’t arrived yet, so he’s standing amongst his various boxes, anxiety pulsing in his chest.

Julie grips his hand tightly and smiles, tears pricking the edges of her eyes. “Hey, Alex, you’re gonna be okay.” She squeezes his hand briefly.

Alex nods, exhaling shakily. “Yea, yea I know. It’s just…”

“A change, I know. But this is a good change. And-” she hauls Reggie and Luke over to them. “-we’re all here if you need to call someone and talk. And dad, and Tía, and I bet your roommate will be super cool.”

“Or a serial killer.”

“Just pray he’s not a football player,” Reggie stage-whispers, shuddering.

“God, don’t even suggest that!” Alex whines.

Encouragements and teary hugs are passed along, as well as a promise to meet at the Olive Garden nearby for dinner in a few hours, and then Alex’s posse is off to get Reggie settled, and Alex is left alone in the dorm. Alright.

Alex takes a deep breath, steeling himself, before beginning to wander the dorm. He’s anxious to start unpacking without his roommate and risk doing something that they wouldn’t like. Even choosing a bed feels wrong, he really doesn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with this person. But leaving the dorm meant people everywhere so that was a definite no. He sighs, lowering himself to the wooden floor and pulling out his phone.

“Yea… uh huh. Yes Caleb, I got here fine. No the Uber driver did not try and kidnap me. The boxes- the boxes are not too heavy. Okay. Okay. Yea, bye. Mhm.”

Alex looks up hesitantly upon hearing the voice nearing his dorm. The person standing in the doorway is well… less of a person and more of a large stack of boxes threatening to fall over any second. “Hello?” Alex stands up and makes his way to the boy stood in the entrance.

Said boy pokes his head out from behind his boxes and grins crookedly. “Hi, uh, I’m Willie!” And well, Alex is a goner. He swallows thickly, breath catching in the back of his throat. Willie attempts to adjust the boxes but ultimately fails, sending them tumbling to the ground amongst several muttered curses. “Well… nothing fragile in there,” he falters slightly. “I think.”

“Um…”

“Right! Sorry, uh.” Willie holds his hand out and Alex shakes it tentatively.

“Alex.”

“Alex, cool.” Willie smiles again, his dark eyes twinkling as he does so, smile lines popping out. He brushes his hair -which looks so soft and pretty- behind his ear to reveal a small golden hoop on his right lobe. Alex is dead, actually 100% dead. Because he’d been prepared for every single variable except, apparently, the one in which his roommate is drop dead gorgeous and Alex is an absolute clusterfuck of a human being who falls for the first pretty boy on he sees on campus.

Alex forces out a smile, all too aware that he’s still standing stiff and awkward in front of Willie, his grip on his fannypack tight enough to make his knuckles glow white. Then Willie coughs as some sort of attempt to fill the silence. “Sorry!” Alex squeaks. “Do you need help with the… the uh, boxes?”

“Oh yea, that’d be great!” Willie replies, beaming. “I don’t think there’s anything fragile in there, but y’know, my memory is absolute shit so if I broke some fancy china dishes I didn’t even know I owned, don’t be too shocked.”

Alex laughs anxiously. “Yea uh… I didn’t start unpacking cause I um… I didn’t want to claim a bed and stuff with-without your input?” His voice cracks at the end and he winces because Jesus fucking christ Alex.

Willie chuckles and Alex notes that he has the kind of laugh that echoes through your whole body and settles right in your heart. “ ‘S cool, man, I don’t mind.”

“Right, cool. Do you uh… are you okay if I take the bed farthest from the window? I’m not- not much of a morning person, and the window is… it’s east facing” Alex mutters, his gaze focused on his feet which are rocking back and forth at a rapid pace.

“Yea, of course,” Willie replies. “I don’t think I’ve woken up later than 8 in 5 years.”

“That’s horrific!” Alex cries, momentarily forgetting his anxiety. He steps back and blushes an even deeper red upon realizing how stupid he’s being. “I mean- I just… sorry, I just meant that-”

“You’re good, dude. I don’t bite.”

Alex cracks a tentative smile. “So uh… I’ll just start unpacking then.”

Willie shoots him a thumbs up and smiles once again, which is a thing he apparently does a lot.

An hour later, Alex’s belongings are unpacked and organized and the room feels a bit more his. He feels slightly lighter, exhaling and closing his eyes briefly. This isn’t so bad. Fiddling with the hem of his hoodie, he shuffles out into the living room where Willie is presumably unpacking. Except that he’s not.

Willie is laying upside down on a couch that somehow appeared while Alex was gone and he’s flipping through a tattered magazine while his belongings remain mostly unpacked.

“This quiz says that I should try roller skating,” Willie sniffs. “Some personality test this is- oh hey Alex!” He scrambles up so that he can look Alex in the eyes properly, and points to the magazine in his hand. “Found this in a box, not sure how it got there since I’ve never even subscribed to one of these, but there’s a chocolate chip cookie recipe in here.” He stops for a moment, pondering. “Personally I prefer peanut butter cookies, ooh especially fresh out of the oven. There’s this bakery near my house that-”

“Did you get… any unpacking done?” Alex asks, raising an eyebrow.

Willie looks around at his boxes and laughs sheepishly. “Well I unpacked one and opened 3 so… some, yes.”

“Where’d the couch come from?” Alex pokes the cushion warily, as if afraid that it’s full of bugs.

“Room across the hall,” Willie says, pointing. “They both brought couches and didn’t have room for two we got the one with more stains.”

“Right.” Alex’s reply is forced and tense, and he winces upon realizing. Truthfully, he hadn’t expected his roommate to become so comfortable so fast and he felt like he was several steps behind. Damn extroverts. Drumming his hands against his thighs, Alex slowly sits down on the other side of the couch, pointedly looking ahead instead of at Willie.

“So.” Willie scoots closer, sitting cross legged with his elbows on his thighs and chin resting in his palms. “What’s your major?”

Small talk, god Alex hates small talk. “Um, music,” he answers.

“Ah, that’s cool dude.” Willie nods.

“Uh, what about you?” Alex asks.

“Art,” Willie replies, grinning. “Be prepared for paint stains, like, everywhere.” He chuckles and nudges Alex’s shoulder playfully. Alex is going to implode, he’s sure of it.

Alex laughs awkwardly. “So uh… what’s wrong with rollerskating?”

Willie shoves his shoulder again. “Everything, dude! Well-” he cuts himself off, thinking. “-I just kinda suck at it, definitely better at my skateboard.” He jerks his head in the direction of a skateboard leaned against the wall and Alex wonders how he didn’t notice that.

“Oh, that’s- that’s cool. I rollerblade but I uh, I can’t skateboard to save my life.”

Somehow, they slip into a comfortable rhythm, and Alex notes that his anxiety no longer has him in a chokehold. Willie seems to have that affect; he’s just so… open. Alex doesn’t realize it yet, but he’s subconsciously created a folder in the back of his mind labelled “Willie,” and he doesn’t think he’s capable of forgetting anything Willie will ever say to him.

“- that’s why airplane food is just, horrible. Cause you basically lose like 30% of your tastebuds because of the elevation.” Willie smiles at Alex, gaging his response.

Alex would rather die than admit that he’s still trying to figure out how the topic of airplane food came up, so he just nods enthusiastically, actively stopping his eyes from dancing across Willie’s face, which is practically glowing in the evening sun. Evening. Shit. Alex pulls out his phone frantically. “Shit.” He says it out loud this time.

Willie’s brow furrows in confusion. “You good, dude?”

“Uh yea I’m just, I’m supposed to be meeting my fam- uh my friends for dinner and I have to be there in like 5 minutes.” He ignores the way Willie’s expression falls, convinced he’s just seeing things.

“Yea um, of course. I won’t keep you.” Willie stands up, his posture the stiffest that Alex has seen it in the whole 3 hours they’ve been acquainted for. “I’ll just… order a pizza.”

Alex hesitates in the doorway, weighing his options, which has never been his strong suit. “Do you want to join me?” He blurts impulsively. Willie looks at him in surprise. “I mean only- only if you want of course, we’ve only really uh, known each other for a few hours and you- you probably don’t want to, it was stupid. I’ll just- I’ll just go-”

“No! I’d… I’d like to, eating pizza alone in the dark sounds a little pathetic,” Willie responds.

Alex smiles genuinely. “Ok, ok that’s uh. Cool. That’s cool.”

---

Alex is already regretting this. The restaurant isn’t too crowded, he notices with a relieved breath. But it’s loud. It’s loud and yet only one group of people is talking. Alex doesn’t even need to guess who.

“Ok but- no- no- the whole song would be better!”

“Say banjo one more time, I dare you!”

“Banjo.”

“Julie, what the hell?! This is betrayal!”

“You stole my breadstick, it’s only fair.”

Alex coughs, quieting the table to a dull roar.

“Alex!” Julie pulls him down to sit next to her. “Oh? Who’s this?” Reggie is grinning wickedly and Luke waggles his eyebrows in a way that makes Alex want to shave them off.

“This is uh, my roommate Willie,” Alex responds, his voice raising an octave. “He didn’t have plans so I uh… I invited him, I hope that’s ok.”

“Of course it’s ok!” Julie pats the space on the other side of Alex and Willie sits down, appearing… oddly nervous.

“Congrats! Your Alex’s first new friend since,” Luke taps his chin, pretending to think. “7th grade.”

Alex’s face promptly falls into his hands. He’s seriously considering the whole, shaving Luke’s eyebrows in his sleep thing.

Reggie leans forward conspiratorially. “What’s your opinion on banjos?” He asks, making a point to ignore Luke’s dramatic complaining.

Willie raises his eyebrows, clearly confused. “Um. No comment?”

“I’m… sorry about them,” Alex says apolegetically. “Uh, this is Luke, Reggie, and Julie-” he gestures to each of them; Reggie waves, beaming happily. “-and Julie’s dad should be…” He trails off, looking around.

“He had to take a phone call, something about Carlos refusing to eat dinner until he proves the house is haunted,” Julie explains, clearly biting back a laugh.

“I… okay.” Alex shakes his head. “Are we waiting for more food or did Reggie eat it all?”

“Ha ha,” Reggie punctuates his statement by sticking out his tongue. “We’re waiting for the actual meals-”

“Yea Luke already ate the entire bread basket.” Julie shoots a glare in Luke’s direction.

“Well… you suggested we get hotdogs,” Luke grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. “Payback.”

“Okay,” Julie laughs.

Willie leans over to whisper loudly to Alex, “What’s the story with the hotdogs?”

“Don’t tell him!” Luke cries, leaning across the table and slamming his palms down.

“We don’t talk of the hot-dogs,” Reggie mutters miserably.

“Food poisoning.” Alex shudders slightly. “Very bad food poisoning.”

“We almost died,” Reggie says, eyes widening. “Like, for real death. I’m pretty sure I was a ghost for a few seconds.”

“Reg, you were not a ghost,” Alex says, speaking like Reggie’s a 10 year old talking about monsters under his bed.

“I was!”

“You were not!”

“So,” Luke smiles mischievously, taking Reggie and Alex’s bickering as an opportunity to apparently torture the latter. Despite Alex’s warning glares, he turns to Willie with an innocent expression. “What kind of music do you like?”

“Luke,” Alex hisses, all too familiar with Luke’s antics.

“Hmmm.” Willie is painfully oblivious to Alex’s panicked expression as he mulls over his answer. “A lot of stuff really.” He shrugs. “Rock, pop, I like those lo-fi playlists when I’m trying to study.”

Luke nods, clearly pleased with the answer, but he isn’t done and Alex wants to hide under the table. He knows what’s coming next. “Thoughts on… drummers?”

“Luke.” Alex is seconds from lunging across the table.

“Drummers?” Willie asks, tilting his head confusedly.

“Yup,” Luke says, popping the p and still smiling like he’s some sort of innocent puppy-dog and not an absolute bastard.

“Hot,” Willie jokes. Alex can’t even hide the way he manages to choke on his own spit, and Luke and Reggie have never been great at subtlety, turning to Alex with matching shit-eating grins. Willie either doesn’t notice or is kind enough not to comment on it. “Yea, pretty sure young Roger Taylor was my gay awakening.”

Reggie is full on giggling now, and Alex’s entire face is gleaming a bright red. Willie glances around the table, puzzled.

“Mhm.” Luke nods before swiftly turning to Alex. “Hey Alex, by the way, you left your drumsticks in the car, do you need them back?” His voice is sickeningly sweet, coated in some sort of poisoned honey. It’s Willie’s turn to choke on nothing, failing to disguise it as a spontaneous coughing fit.

“Fine,” Alex squeaks as he sinks further down in his seat. If he pulls out his phone and messages Luke a flurry of threats, that’s no one’s business. He dares a glance at Willie, who has become quite fascinated with his hands, which are tapping out a mindless rhythm on the table, his cheeks and the tips of his ears dusted red.

Needless to say, Alex makes sure Luke doesn’t even get to look at the next bread basket.

---

I hope you liked it! Tell me if you want to be added to the taglist :)

I’m hoping to update at least once a week, but who knows. Ok thats all.

chapter 2

Chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

#willex #jatp #willex fic #jatp fic #julie and the phantoms #alex mercer #willie jatp #willie nolastname #julie molina #luke patterson #reggie peters #ray molina #willow writes #ytotbts #you’re the one that brings the sun

231 notes · View notes

missinghan · 4 years

Text

give it a chance ⤖ lee minho

❖ genre : college au; roommates au; friends to lovers au

❖ word count : 9,6k.

❖ warning : explicit language, slightly suggestive & mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : you convinced yourself to attend a party in order to prevent Lee Minho from doing stupid things; however it’s not so stupid anymore when your roommate said he needed to tell you something important.

❖ a/n : the continuation of what if we is dedicated to @chaninfused, so *clears throat* this is where I hereby declare that she deserves more than what the entire universe can possibly give her; oh hi furat, this is why I’ve been so cryptic all this time. I know this isn’t much but I want to thank you for tolerating me and letting me be mean to you even though we only started talking for a few months; you’re an incredibly great friend and an amazing writer, don’t ever forget that 🖤

one.

It’s been almost a week since Jisung last talked to Minho (albeit texts and FaceTime) and he wakes up to his best friend roaming around his crusty kitchen, struggling to find a bottle of honey. Seungmin’s mom has been constantly sending them thirty packets of rib soup per week. And Minho thinks the sight of Han Jisung slurping on nothing but distorted rice with pork ribs while stressing over his paper for seven days straight is more tragic than his non-existent love life.

“It’s like you’re trying to turn us into gym rats,” Hyunjin snickers lazily, flinging his bangs away from his face. “You even brought us Tupperwares, are you really expecting us not to order tacos impulsively on study nights?” He’s a little dubious about stuff like this because he can feel the actual horror of only eating chicken breast and string beans just by seeing Chan cooking them up.

Seungmin chucks a piece of lettuce towards his direction, “Don’t you have anything else to do other than complaining?” He knows that when Jisung and Hyunjin decide to order food on study nights, they’re gonna do anything but study.

“Uhm, I actually do,” he replies nonchalantly. “I’m going through Minho’s phone.”

Jisung takes a seat next to him by the counter, propping his head onto his hands, “What’s the point? There’s nothing but cat photos and cat memes...and also Y/N as his background.”

“That angle is hideous, by the way,” Hyunjin comments like the true photography geek he is, which is completely ignored by Minho because he’s too cranky to start a fight at ten in the morning. “But it’s kinda cute for you to do that, so I’m gonna turn a blind eye.”

Jisung asks out of the blue, “Who’s going to BamBam’s party this Sunday? Well, besides the other two-thirds of 3RACHA.”

“I have a midterm on Monday, dumbass,” Seungmin mumbles while washing his vegetables at the sink.

“And I’m sleeping over at Lix’s for a project,” Hyunjin informs him lamely, having no intention to attend another single frat party. At least not BamBam’s frat parties—that guy has the weirdest friends; a chick was so drunk that she thought Hyunjin was her boyfriend and almost tried to make out with him on the dance floor.

Jisung secretly hates going to parties without his friends- no, actually, he never goes to parties without people from his social circle because he dreads the whole introduction part that requires formalities and inevitable awkwardness. But it’s not like that with Minho, ten minutes into their very first conversation and he feels like he’s known him for years.

In short, he will die if Minho doesn’t come to the party. Chan can only chat with him for so long until his DJ duty occurs and Changbin’s probably gonna be too busy doing keg stands to care about his antisocial friend.

“Fine, I’ll go,” Minho gives in while chopping up the chicken breasts and this prompts Jisung to clap happily like a seal for the next twenty seconds as he skips over to the fridge to fetch a water bottle. “But we’re gonna need a ride, I’m not taking my motorbike for some crackhead to puke on it. Ask Chan later when you crash at his place.”

Jisung tosses his head back to take a peek at the clock hanging by the bookshelf, and it reads 10:07 AM. He really should be getting for his class at eleven because traffic sucks but he’s not feeling like sitting through two hours of Park ranting about marketing strategies. “Can’t Y/N just drive us? I don’t think she’d let anyone else take you home when you’re not sober,” he ponders, earning a nod of agreement from both of his roommates.

Just when Minho opens his mouth to brush it off, he stops himself to process the information again and holds back a ‘you’re right’ because he hates letting people know that they’re not wrong. He wouldn’t let anyone drive you home when you’re drunk either. “Her car’s with her dad right now,” he tries to sound casual when three pairs of curious eyes are glued onto his back. “I, uh, sorta had it run into a tree last week.”

“You what? How are you still alive?” Hyunjin’s jaw is on the floor and Seungmin accidentally dumps too much vinegar into his salad while Jisung’s choking on the iced cold water, coughing furiously after into the sleeve of his hoodie. Guess Chan’s gonna have to drive them both. After all, he can never say ‘no’ to J.One.

Minho murmurs, “A dude rear-ended me, fucking idiot.” He finishes marinating the chicken breasts and arranges them nicely onto a tray with aluminum foil on top, pushing it into the preheated oven. “And basically she’s never letting me touch her car again,” he sighs while staring into midair dreamily, flashbacking to last Friday when you immediately Ubered yourself all the way from campus to downtown after picking up his call. All he got was thirty seconds of affection; you made sure that he’s not hurt and the rest was just a monstrous tantrum. He ended up sleeping on the couch that night.

“My my, you two are just like an old married couple,” Hyunjin chuckles lightheartedly and shakes his head, scrolling through the series of texts in amusement, “What even is this? I swear your conversation consists of 60% ‘when are you going home?’, 40% ‘your lunch is here’ and 20% terrible cat memes.”

“We’re roommates,” Minho drags the word through gritted teeth, holding back all the murderous thoughts inside his head because he feels like Hyunjin’s just asking for a death wish. It’s too early for this.

Unexpectedly, Seungmin decides he’s in a pretty good mood today since he aced his OChem pop quiz yesterday; meaning, he’s gonna stick his nose into his friend’s business whenever there’s a chance. “Don’t you guys share a bed too?” he pretends to play dumb only to receive a kick in the shin from the older boy.

“We’re also broke,” Minho cranes his neck tiredly, washing the dirty knife under the tap. “Besides, the heater in the living room sucks.”

“You both even smell the same, it’s getting kinda creepy. Please don’t tell me you guys also share showers to have a light water bill,” Jisung makes a gagging noise and Minho thinks he’s already said too much. His grip on the knife tightens for a split second before letting it drop into the sink. He doesn’t trust himself with anything sharp the moment Hyunjin started this unwanted conversation. He also regrets stealing Changbin’s meal prep recipes to feed his trash friends.

Minho questions callously, “We just use the same shampoo and shower gel, what’s the big deal?” His hands go for the box of oatmeal that Felix left here last time in the cabinet full of random food. He doesn’t get why Seungmin would buy so much groceries like he’s in a pandemic knowing damn well that his idiotic roommates can’t cook for shit.

Hyunjin purses his lips, trying to prove his point, “Don’t you think that it’s weird? You don’t do those things with us.”

“Because none of you would fucking house me when I was on the verge of being homeless!”

“And why is she yelling at you through texts anyway? Bro, there’s like ten missed calls here with at least a hundred ‘where are you?’. Why is she terrorizing you this early in the morning?” Minho immediately snaps out of his semi-angry trance, chest heaving up and down.

“Oh shit,” he facepalms himself. “I promised to pick her up at ten from class, what time is it again?”

“You’re fifteen minutes late, my friend,” Jisung supplies unhelpfully. “It’ll take another ten to arrive at campus, without traffic that is. You’re so dead. D-E-A-D.” It feels weird to hear something correct coming out of Jisung’s mouth (twice in a row) and now Minho wishes he could just whack his friend unconscious on the floor with the new set of microphones that Chan gave him last year for Secret Santa.

“Oh, I left your rice sitting at ‘warm’, by the way,” Minho makes a grab for his biker jacket and helmet on the counter before fleeing out of the apartment with his sneakers half-way tucked in. It’s not even been thirty minutes since they’ve seen each other for the past week and Jisung’s already choked on water, not once, but twice because of Lee Minho. Sometimes he wonders if the universe is telling him that he needs new friends.

two.

“Your boyfriend is late.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you hiss at Yeji while staring at Minho’s contact on your phone anxiously. There’s no reason for you to be; worst-case scenario, you can just take the 0325 home and lock him outside for the night so that he’ll have no choice but to endure Chan’s embarrassing sleeping habits. He wouldn’t even notice either way because he’d be too busy swearing in his sleep to be annoyed.

Yeji puts her hair up into a ponytail after stretching her limbs tiredly. She only has one class today and no choice but to stay on campus for her shift at the café before lunch break. Too bad Woojin can’t cover her today because of midterms. “I’m only speaking facts,” she tells you with a yawn and notices the slight pout on your face. “Hey, don’t be sad just because your stupid boyfriend can’t pick you up. I can call Chaeryeong if you need a ride here and there, she wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m not fucking sad!”

“Y/N, you look more depressed than Ryujin when she got a B+ in calc.” That’s irrelevant, Shin Ryujin already has a GPA booster after signing up for Kim’s stats class, one B+ won’t make it any less sparkly.

You only let out a prolonged sigh after checking your phone for the tenth time in the past half an hour. He isn’t picking up any of your calls, your messages probably can’t even reach him and now you’re sitting at M.I.A Cafe with a cup of plain water after standing outside at the front gate for so long like an idiot. An idiot, who’s hopelessly in love with her roommate- wait what?

Listen, you already know that this is going to happen. It’s awfully inevitable and it’s getting harder and harder as the days pass by because summer is almost here. Meaning, Minho’s gonna move out soon, according to the contract.

Are you sad about that?

Yeah, kinda.

The more you think about it the more you regret your decision that day to let him stay with you. Because now you don’t think you’d be able to sleep without him next to you, hogging the blanket all to himself; you get angsty when he’s not home even if he’s just at dance practice; you’re definitely getting way too used to sharing an earphone with him while you both are dreading your assignments silently at the kitchen counter. And now you’re getting nervous just because he’s thirty minutes late. He’s never late, not even to your Monday Movie Night where you both can pig out and binge-watch the Avatar: The Last Airbender series until you’re sick of it.

Maybe you’re relying on him too much. Hypothetically speaking, it’s not his fault for the damage of your car but you’re just making excuses to be with him. You even set him as your emergency contact. It’s kinda tedious to be your roommate, you realize. All of those things aren’t mandatory and he can simply mind his own business without having to feel obligated because of the ‘roommates’ label yet he’d still choose you, over everything else. Perhaps he’s dealing with his own first world problems and forgot to leave you a message this time.

Yeji inquires breezily, wiping a cup dry with a towel, “Also, are you going to BamBam’s party this weekend?”

“For me to carry your ass home after getting shitfaced and sit through another two-hour lecture from Lia? I’ll pass thank you very much.”

She indicates with a quirk of her perfectly dark brow, “What if I tell you that Minho’s gonna be there?” Now she sounds like she’s the one who’s crushing on Lee Minho and not you. Never knew that your friends can be this creepy but the more you learn… “Jisung just told me he found a plus one aka Mister Celebrity to attend that frat party with, you wouldn’t have the heart to let me be the loner right?” she pouts with her nose scrunched and it reminds you too much of Light Fury so you look away, knowing that you wouldn’t stand a goddamn chance if she kept this up.

“How is that my problem?” you merely roll your eyes, slightly annoyed. “And also, isn’t Jisung supposed to have his marketing class now?”

Yeji doesn’t give a damn about what on Earth Han Jisung is doing with his life so she just brushes your question off. “Would you let Minho drink irresponsibly?”

You nod without hesitation, though it feels wrong coming out of your mouth, “He can do whatever he wants...as long as my carpet remains clean after his hangover.”

“Would you let me drink irresponsibly?”

“The same goes for you,” you tell her monotonously. “And I only picked you up because Lia sounded like she was hyperventilating when you attended that one law brat’s birthday party. Na Jaemin, wasn’t it? Hate that guy, by the way.”

Yeji thinks it’s time for you to open up even more and not despise people that much. Having Lee Minho as your roommate is already a huge step-up but it’s not like there have been any modifications to your routine except the fact that another human being is simply enduring your bitchy ass of a loner. She wants you to be really out there, just not messing with shit like doing keg stands because Seo Changbin is a terrible influence. Woojin once had to drop his shift at the sushi place to drive Jeongin home because Changbin left him hanging on the beanbag chair for a game of beer pong. Jeongin has never gone to another single party since.

“You hate literally everyone!” Yeji’s getting impatient, you can feel it.

“Are you telling me it’s my fault that people are shitty?” you bark, massaging the sides of your temple tiredly. You wish you could just drop the entirety of your current presentation to Yeji because your brain cells are already evaporating one by one into thin air.

She barks back, merely sneering, “C’mon! Y/N, it’s not like you ever have plans for the weekend.”

“But I’m having midterms on Monday, I didn’t spend my time on those notes for nothing.”

She shakes her head at you almost in disapproval. Sure, you’re a coward for backing out on this because BamBam’s no stranger to you. That Thai kid has been hanging out with Chan since middle school and he always offers to buy you coffee whenever you happen to drop by as they’re working on a project together. He’s a nice guy, but you don’t know him that well. Something in your gut is telling you that he has weird friends (he totally does). And you’re not about to overdrink only to blurt out an awful confession to Minho while being surrounded by a bunch of crackheads that aren’t in your social sphere.

“I heard kids are vapi-” Yeji stops herself, thinking she should just give up, and get ready for the next batch of sleep-deprived customers coming in at lunch break before Jeongin chucks an avocado at her direction for chit-chatting too much about your gigantic crush on Minho. “Nevermind, it’s not like you’d care anyway, have fun with reviewing I guess.” And with that, she leaves you alone with the cup of plain water to dump the used coffee grounds in the trash.

It takes you at least ten seconds to comprehend what she just said. And you’ve come up with a new yet very last-minute decision: screw midterm because you’re making sure that Lee Minho’s going home in one piece.

Very timely, your phone buzzes on the wooden counter.

[10:38 AM]

lino | hey you still on campus?

three.

The blush scattered across your cheekbones just grows ten shades darker when you see Minho at the front gate leaning against his black Kawasaki; disheveled hair, hands stuffed inside his pockets, occasional puffs of smoke escaping his lips, and unbothered gaze. You’ve never told him this, you’re not telling him this now, and you’re never gonna tell him; but he looks stupidly good in that biker jacket. Again, you don’t get how someone can look this good early in the morning.

“What are you doing here?” you murmur grimly, approaching him from behind. It feels like he’s doing this to your heart on purpose, without even trying. And those girls over there are making you very uncomfortable by eyeing your roommate up and down like he’s an expensive piece of steak with a gold leaf sticking to it.

Minho turns sideways and flashes you a smile; your little heart just did a perfect cartwheel because of that, it can only take so much. “Sorry, I kinda lost track of time, but I still promised to pick you up, didn’t I?” he says casually as your face morphs into a deep frown because you’re basically confused. The only problem is: you don’t even know why you’re confused. There’s this fluttering feeling at the pit of your stomach and now you feel as though someone just gives you a blow to the head when Minho looks straight into your eyes, brows slightly knitted together.

This is not healthy.

“You didn’t answer my calls or my texts.”

Minho thinks you look cuter than usual when you’re silently fuming because you’re not the type to lash out on people. But it’s not so cute anymore when you threatened to flush his AirPods down the toilet that one time when he spilled ketchup on your carpet. He just hopes he doesn’t end up sleeping on the couch tonight like last time.

“I put my phone on silent, as always,” he reminds you of how much of a pain in the ass it is to receive a call-back or a simple reply from him.

You make a face, “Whatever, didn’t I tell you not to make a scene? Have you seen those chicks back there? They’re watching me as if I’m sabotaging their dreams of eating you alive.” Well, you can’t exactly blame your roommate for having girls gushing over him wherever he goes because...it’s his fault for looking like a snack all the time.

Minho quickly detects how you’re not overly fond of his admirers and needless to say, he’s fairly amused. “Then let them,” he puts an arm over your shoulders and pulls you flushed against him, ruffling your hair. Moments later, you’re already hearing scandalous gasps along with hushed whispers going through your eardrums like a never-ending train. It’s really setting your nerves on fire.

“Don’t you think that this is weird?”

“What?” Now it’s Minho who’s confused here.

You slightly push him away and avert your gaze elsewhere to avoid eye contact. “We’re roommates, right?” you mumble, slightly unsure about...all of this.

“Hmm, what about it?”

“Well, I don’t know…” you fiddle with the hem of your jacket and sigh. “What if people keep getting the wrong idea about us?” You sound somewhat regretful as if your decision of taking him in as your roommate was a mistake, as if you feel like it’s better off if he wasn’t in your life at all, as if the past month was completely meaningless. Since when did things become this complicated? It started with a harmless one-month contract and now Minho’s not sure of what he should do next. But that’s not it, is it? Maybe he’s just overthinking too much.

He looks hesitant for a moment there, very not-Lee-Minho of him. “We’re still cool right?” Minho tilts his head to the side, the afternoon sunlight slips through fluffs of white clouds and brings the constellations in his warm brown eyes to life. Though he looks like a scolded child, you can’t help but want to put this moment into a frame and simply cherish it for the rest of your life.

“Beats me,” you breathe out, silently hating yourself for not being able to get angry at him. It’s harder than you thought, really, and it doesn’t help when his eyes keep doing that thing to your poor little heart. “Make me pasta and we’re good,” you end up chuckling when Minho’s expression turns a solid three hundred and sixty at the offer.

“That’s not a very smart move for a business major, your loss,” he replies with a goofy smile, tossing the helmet that he got you yesterday in your direction. And if you pay attention enough, you can almost see Minho exhaling out of relief. But you’re too busy staring at the ground to douse yourself in your own giddiness to notice. “Oh crap, I think I left my wallet at Hyunjin’s,” he tells you after swinging a leg over on his shiny vehicle.

You narrow your eyes at him, “You don’t need your wallet to make me pasta now do you?”

“By the way, are you going to BamBam’s party?”

“Only if you’re going,” you scratch the bridge of your nose with your ring finger, a little embarrassed to admit that he’s the only reason why you’re ditching midterms.

Minho’s hearty laugh fills your eardrums, shit-eating grin and all. “If it makes you feel better, Chan’s driving us,” he voices without looking at you, but your chest still swells either way.

You fucking hate how you have the softest spot for him.

four.

You’re already regretting this although you’ve only been sitting in Chan’s back seats for less than twenty minutes. Crankiness takes over your body as a result of reviewing for the whole afternoon, your eyelids are getting droopy, and your head seems to be all too big for your neck at this rate. More reasons for you to not drink tonight.

“Ugh, why am I even here?” you groan, and Jisung scrunches his nose, slightly alarmed because you’re not usually this loud unless you’re high on caffeine.

Minho tells you in the most lighthearted way possible, “Because you love me.”

You wish you could just put his head through a wall because everything and anything coming out of his mouth are never healthy for your mind, or heart. “Uhm, no I don’t.”

“But you did confess your love to me,” he singsongs as if he just hit a jackpot with his lottery ticket, angling his head to toss you a wink. “I have receipts, ma’am. They’re right here, in my heart.” Minho’s never seen you so giddy before so he recorded everything, but he’s not planning on putting himself on a chopping block by telling you that.

You shove his arm and purse your lips, flaming cheeks but the car’s too dark for him to see it. “I was sick, asshole, I talk shit more when I have a fever than when I’m drunk,” you defend yourself helplessly, not enjoying the fact that he had to bring it up when you’re in a confined space with Seo Changbin and Han Jisung.

“Minho doesn’t like it when Y/N raises her voice.” Great, now he’s talking in third person.

“What are you even? Four?”

He winks at you, “Baby me, baby.”

“Oh my god shut the fuck up and get away from me!”

“You’ll never get rid of me, baby.” Eventually, you give up because you’re too mentally exhausted and there’s still a long night ahead of you. You’re not wasting your energy in pointless arguments with him because you both yell at each other on a daily basis anyway.

“Maybe he’ll zip it if you tell him that you love him,” Jisung suggests innocently with a not-so-innocent look on his face. He’s already acting dumb when he’s this fucking sober so you’re not looking forward to two hours later when vodka’s practically replaced his own blood.

“I’d rather chew off my own foot.” Changbin snorts involuntarily at your stiff remark, Chan mutters a small ‘ouch’ while Jisung’s too busy laughing his ass off. And a demeaning silence descends after that.

Minho’s right next to you, oddly unresponsive to the situation, his head leaning against your shoulder as he gazes dejectedly out the window. You don’t see how stormy his eyes are. He also misses his motorcycle tremendously because Chan’s the safest (slowest) driver to ever exist. No joke, if he keeps going at the pace of thirty miles per hour then you should just skip the party and watch a movie while getting drunk at his place altogether.

“Can you go any fucking slower?”

“Excuse me?” Chan laughs in disbelief, he’s a little offended because he personally thinks he’s a good driver, maybe a little bit too obedient when it comes to the law. Hey, at least you know you’re in good hands. “I’m not trying to get us all killed before BamBam could poison one of you guys.”

Jisung purses his lips as he’s reminded of the last party where he ran into that Thai dude. He gave him a plastic cup, telling him that it’s merely a harmless fruity vodka only for Jisung to get kicked out by an Uber driver after throwing up in the back seats. Turns out, the lemons and oranges in the cocktail were relatively spoilt.

“I’m gonna die from boredom before we could even get into a car accident,” Minho informs him unconstructively, staring at some random notifications from Instagram of people commenting on his cats’ photos, text messages from his mom and swipes them all away. Mostly to chuckle to himself like a moron because of his lock screen. Yes, your stupid face is still on there after three weeks and you don’t know if you should be crying or laughing.

Chan narrows his eyes at the rear-view mirror, “It seems like you’re entertaining yourself just fine by looking at Y/N’s face.”

“This photo does make me laugh because it’s priceless,” the younger boy states without turning his head to look at you. “But still, bored.”

The car grows silent again soon after because Chan’s already been stressed out enough from traffic since clearly, people can’t drive to save their own lives. But it’s not like your friends can keep their mouths shut for the rest of the trip anyway.

“Boreddd,” Minho voices randomly while a J.One’s song is blasting through the speaker. It’s a terribly soft song and it doesn’t help when Minho feels like he can downright sleep through an earthquake, potentially falling into an enormous crack on the Earth’s surface and still being able to nap like there’s no tomorrow. He’s just glad that Jisung grew out of ‘Wow’ and embraces his awkward self through his own music. It’s..sentimental but what’s a J.One song without that element?

Changbin looks up from his phone for half a second, wholly uninterested. “Then shut up and sleep,” he says expressionlessly. Very timely, his most recent track comes up next on the playlist and he starts rapping along with it. Minho thinks he can really use a good eye shut as SpearB is performing live right behind him because Changbin can only stay sober like this for so long until he gets his hands on one of BamBam’s sketchy-looking concoctions.

You’re starting to get bored too at this rate because usually, during times like this when the car is filled with nothing but music and everyone (except for the driver) feels like they’re falling into a food coma, a certain idiot will—

“Y/N, don’t you have a midterm on Monday?” Ah, there it is.

Jisung bends himself forward and drapes an arm over the leather seat, scrunching his nose at the sight of Minho sleeping soundly against your shoulder. He’s still bitter about the fact that Minho refuses to drive anyone other than you with his motorcycle for some reason. Exclusive things are always so annoying.

You exhale deeply because Jisung reminds you of that one kid who always asks questions that stress the hell out of the teachers back in high school. Would it kill for him to just shut up once in a while?

“I do, and I haven’t got a wink of sleep since yesterday afternoon,” you tell him rather lazily, shifting when Minho snuggles himself closer to you, his hair tickling your jawline. You pray he doesn’t know how fast your heart is beating. “A little alcohol might spare me a night of crying myself to sleep.”

Jisung lets his bottom lip stuck out like he’s a fucking five-year-old not allowed to get his favorite ice-cream flavor. “Aww, you should have asked Minho for cuddles then, pretty sure he’d be more than happy to—,” he remarks sarcastically and you wish you could just throw him in the middle of an intersection. He’s lucky because Minho’s a heavy sleeper or he would have been knocked senseless or something. The last thing Chan needs is being forced to pull over for having wild animals wrestle the shit out of each other in his vehicle.

“Hey, fuck off,” you snarl at him, knowing you should have chosen the passenger seat instead. That way, you wouldn’t be fuming inside because you can’t physically strangle Han Jisung to his imminent death. He has already tattooed that image into the back of your brain and you swear you’ve never heard a creepier chuckle from your friend.

Jisung notices the coral tint on your cheeks and sneers, leaning back against his seat. “Yeah right, as if you’re actually gonna get drunk,” he says snarkily. “You’re just gonna be there to prevent Lee Minho from making bad decisions.”

“I decided to come because Yeji wanted me-“

“Yeji who? In what world will you have time for her when you’re too busy staring at Minho like a total creep? Wanna bet ten bucks?”

That’s bullshit because Lee Minho is already your entire world.

Chan butts in, “Make that fifty.”

Changbin raises his hand, “I’d bet my Tesla.” Your friends really spelled out ‘a bunch of fucking clowns’ in bold, gigantic capital letters and you’re this close to facepalm yourself against Chan’s steering wheel. This is why you don’t go to parties with them that often because you’re stuck with cleanup duties with Seungmin until these crackheads grow out of their amateur drinking habits.

“You’re just jealous because he would rather call you an Uber than give you a lift himself,” you say pointedly and Jisung lets out the loudest, most scandalous gasp. So dramatic.

“You,” he jabs a finger at you, eyes wide in accusation. “Need a nap.”

You laugh dryly, ignoring the urge to snap a picture of his flabbergasted expression and turn it into a new meme for your group chat. “You don’t say, Han, you don’t say.”

And Changbin rolls his eyes over the moon, vividly picturing where this disastrous conversation is gonna go. Basically, he wants you to get shitfaced as soon as you step foot into BamBam’s house so he’ll have a sappy, drunk confession video to toss on Twitter tonight because Woojin just posted a picture of him with a drumstick dipped inside a glass of what looks like a watered-down Margarita. He’s highly concerned since there hasn’t been anything juicy on his feed other than his friends creeping people out with their questionable content.

“If you two don’t end up getting drunk and kiss, I’m gonna be pissed,” Changbin says casually as if it’s just an afterthought. This prompts you to chuck your phone in his direction—you can care less about your screen protector at this point if it means stopping him from taunting you further.

He asserts like a snake, “Hey, remember that time where you tripped over Kkami and totally crushed Minho under your weight?”

“I blame gravity for that.”

“But Albert Einstein said you can’t blame gravity for falling in love.”

“Who cares about Albert Einstein?!” you whisper-shout harshly, cautiously eyeing Minho’s sleeping figure. He scrunches his nose and murmurs something that you can’t quite hear before turning over to face you completely. His arms unexpectedly slip underneath yours like second nature. He furrows his eyebrows occasionally, other times he’d be grinning like an idiot and his lips are slightly agape, full eyelashes framing his eyes beautifully. Sometimes you wonder how weird his dreams are whenever you caught him talking (and cursing) in his slumber.

Changbin wants to pry aloud when you start staring at Minho for too long; he might as well be tossed on the freeway at this point before exasperation squeezes the little amount of oxygen left out of his chest. This is worse than Hyunjin’s terrible rom coms. He props his head onto his hand in boredom as Chan pulls over and turns off the engine. “Hey we’re here, why not wake your prince up with a kiss—”

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” you threaten.

Now there are two distasteful tattoos at the back of your head. And you will not hesitate for a heartbeat sacrificing the entirety of your bank account to get them removed. To get Lee Minho removed from your mind.

If only it were that easy.

“Mhmm,” the figure beside you lets out a low grunt and hugs your arm closer instinctively. His warmth seeps through the fabric of your denim jacket and sets your heart on fire. You’re ready to flick his forehead any second now to interrupt his slumber but before you could even do anything, Seo Changbin aggressively opens the door and you widen your eyes in horror. Where the fuck did he get a megaphone? And what for?

“Bitch wake up! Those drinks aren’t gonna finish themselves!”

It’d be a miracle if you ended up finding him alive by dawn.

five.

“Y/N you ass, give it back!

“No, we’ve only been here for three hours and this is your fifth cup already,” you tell her in a mildly serious tone before dumping her cup of whatever the fuck of a yellow substance that Ryujin gave her ten minutes ago into the sink.

Yeji plops herself onto the sofa in the living room after you drag her out of the kitchen where people are making out on the marble counter. Glad to see nothing’s changed...idiots. “God, you’re such a party pooper, I shouldn’t have told you to come,” she complains in between small hiccups, alcohol tinting her cheeks beet red.

“I’m here to save your ass and this is how you’re repaying me?” Your question didn’t come out as coherent and threatening as you imagined and every single cell inside your body is shaking for no specific reason.

Your friend narrows her eyes down into a mere glare like a detective in those crimes shows that you spend way too much time on and you’re debating whether you should be laughing or pissing yourself. She fucking knows that you’re lying. She fucking knows the sole reason for you to be here. “Give me a break, it’s not like you’re doing anything besides staring at your boyfriend from afar,” Yeji scoffs dejectedly.

“God forbids ‘Lee Minho’ and ‘my boyfriend’ go in the same sentence,” you grit, subconsciously averting your gaze around the living room to spot your roommate. All he’s been doing is being held back by Chan when he tried to murder Changbin once, catching up with his old friends from high school and hanging out with some of his classmates, ranting about how much he dreads Kim’s eight AM, gushing with Hyunjin over some senior’s choreography set. By the looks of it, Jisung must have handed him at least seven of those red party cups from the bar—thanks to BamBam who keeps restocking them every hour.

Yeji chuckles creepily when the alcohol finally hits her hard, you think you just got chills by the way that she’s leaning closer. “Of course not,” she hiccups into your ear, words slurred, “Lee Minho’s not my boyfriend, he’s your boyfriend.” You look at her in the eye, and mentally regret your life choices. How insufferable.

“I mean, seriously,” she slams her body back onto the couch and groans; you can’t tell if it’s out of frustration or the cushion is too soft for her back. “It’s like you’re living the life of the main protagonist in a Harry Styles fanfiction! Do you know how many girls and boys would kill to live in the same apartment as that?” Her index finger is pointed directly at the person you’ve been watching and avoiding all night, across the room with a dart in his hand as he stands in front of the dartboard.

“Were you aiming for the board or were you plotting to kill me? Because I can’t tell! I-can’t-fucking-tell!” Changbin shouts over the music and you momentarily cringe at the crack in his voice; it’s never a college party without one of your friends riling each other up over the dumbest things. And also, who thinks it’s a good idea to lend an unstable Lee Minho a sharp object of any kind?

You look away as heat flares through your nostrils when Minho accidentally glances at you after laughing at some corny joke that Chan made. He’s more than mildly hammered right now, you suppose, because, well, Chan can only make people laugh when they’re exceptionally drunk.

A stupid question then slips out of your lips. “With what?” It sounds like you only have one brain cell and are perpetually dumb. It makes you feel even dumber when there’s nothing but a can of Coke inside your body.

“A hottie who dances, cooks, has a good sense of humor, lowkey a genius, highkey a tsundere, shares a name with a famous actor. Far more handsome than the actor himself, if I dare.” Yeji has no hesitation whatsoever naming every reason as to why people on campus shamelessly throw themselves at your roommate on a daily basis. And now your head grows ten times fuzzier, floating mundanely in the clouds above. Basically, you feel like you’re drunk—except your confidence isn’t sky high enough to do something stupid—which makes no absolute sense.

The silver-haired girl next to you puts an arm around your neck and giggles, you’re highly perturbed that her vocal cords are gonna give in tomorrow when she convinces you through FaceTime that you should be extra careful with your notes since she won’t be showing up to class. “Oh! And he has three cats, right? Cat people are said to be more intuitive and thoughtful, that’s a bonus,” Yeji asserts and your jaw is on the floor at this rate. She doesn’t even spare him a second glance during lunch break and she already knows this much?

No wonder Minho never talked about his cats with Felix and Seungmin again.

“I bet you read that off a Buzzfeed article.”

“Doesn’t necessarily mean it’s wrong!”

You inhale and exhale deeply, linking your fingers together, “Yeah, but that’s all people will ever see.”

“Well, what else can they like about him?”

“I don’t know,” you say bluntly, but the rouge on your cheeks is anything but ‘blunt’. “They don’t see how stuck-up he is, how he loves hogging the blanket all to himself, how he secretly stocks up a stash of trashy snacks. They don’t see the way his eyes sparkle when he looks into their eyes during a conversation because he’s actually a very attentive listener.”

Yeji pats your back without turning her head, slightly amused, “I think you meant how he looks into your eyes during a conversation.”

Your eyes scan the room one more time to find Minho hugging his stomach from laughing too much, there are actual tears in his eyes because Changbin just lost a bet and apparently he has to belly flop himself into the pool as a punishment. You haven’t seen him this happy in a while, even when he’s potentially dying from a really bad stomachache but it still puts your heart at ease knowing he’s having fun tonight.

Needless to say, he always knocks the breath right out of your lungs without much effort. Even when he’s ditched the leather jacket and ripped jeans, you still think no one looks better than him in a large t-shirt and sweatpants.

“But I don’t get it,” Yeji looks over at you this time, real carefully because your tone just grows firmer and more serious. “How can he just stand there, laugh...and look so beautiful?”

“I told you—”

“Yeah that’s exactly what I need to hear right now, Yeji,” you facepalm almost immediately, highly disappointed in yourself.

Jisung’s getting his ten dollars on Monday when you surprise him with two slices of cheesecake from his favorite dessert place. Changbin can keep his Tesla and Chan...Chan isn’t getting anything.

You push yourself off the blue velvet couch and groan, you’re getting sore quickly because the cushions are far too soft. “Let me get some fresh air, I feel like I’m gonna to lose my mind,” you tell your friend but you doubt that she caught it since the music is all too loud for students to communicate properly. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why fistfights during parties are a thing.

“Uhm, wait,” Yeji tugs onto your sleeve and jerks her head towards the direction of Minho. “I’m sorry but what the hell does your boyfriend want now?”

“Huh where—“

Like..three feet away. Or a whole lot closer.

“Why didn’t you answer my texts?” And you find Minho standing in front of you with his arms crossed stubbornly, eyebrows knitted together and tinted pink cheeks. He looks a little pissed off, and you don’t think you’re both on the same page here.

When you give him a ‘what do you mean’ look, your roommate feels the need to unlock his phone and jab his index finger against his poor crusty screen as he shows you at least fifty messages that he’s been spamming in the last half an hour. This reminds you of the yellow Post-It note that Minho violently smacked onto your fridge the very night when he first moved in.

‘I hereby fucking declare that if we did end up going to the same party (doubt btw), we would keep our phones with us 25/8 so one can save the other’s ass from stupid decisions— lee minho’ he wrote. Minho knows all too well the only ass that needs to be saved is his. And you’ve thought about taking the note down several times but you don’t think you’d have the heart to.

“Oh,” your head draws a blank canvas and you look for your phone in your pocket. But then, “I left my phone in Chan’s car.”

Minho rolls his eyes at you and decides that he’s too impatient to wait for Chan to sober up and remember where he left his keys. “Whatever,” he manages to crack a small smile, one that shines through the dimmed LED light on the ceiling and makes your heart stuck in your throat. “Let’s get out of here, I have something to tell you.”

“Hey hey hey,” Yeji tries to get up from the couch but her limbs are too wobbly. “You can’t just tap out all of a sudden and steal her from me like that. Don’t even think for a minute you second rate—”

“Yeah, no, she’s mine.”

You’re downright baffled. But you’re not sure if it’s because of what he said ten seconds ago and your heart is going haywire, your brain cells are giving in on you or it’s because he’s tugging you by the wrist and piloting you through the impending chaos of sloppy college students.

You’re not sure if you want to know. You’re not sure if you’re ready.

six.

Fall arrives sooner than you thought and it almost makes you miss summer. Though you didn’t really have anything exciting besides an internship that refrained you from living on YouTube for too long.

The evening is oddly cold, but you’ve never had a problem with the tips of your fingers growing chilly. It’s different tonight—it’s the kind of coldness that slips through your flesh and into your bones, coming in contact with the thumping force of your heart, causing it to shiver. There’s nothing to do but keep your gaze straight forward, your feet moving on their own with the one and only goal of heading home. Clouds with the murky color of wet ashes pass by, and the ground as its dank reflection—a reminder of how humanity is ruining the planet.

The streets are so quiet and tranquil; you’re afraid that Minho might be able to hear your heartbeat. Now you’re pointing a finger at society in accusation because it’s the weekend yet no elder couples are taking their night strolls, no middle-aged ladies in fluffy jackets are walking their spoiled teacups dogs and no wasted college students are roaming the streets with ‘trouble’ spelled out on their forehead. Really, you’d rather stare at people in a creepy way and zone out than constantly thinking about Lee Minho when he’s right beside you.

This is terribly suffocating and you don’t think if you can keep this up in the next thirty minutes until both of you get home and melt into the comfort of your bed.

“Sober up, Mister Celebrity, that’s too much fun for tonight.” Minho winces slightly when you press a can of cold green tea against his cheeks as he’s about to doze off on the wooden bench next to the vending machine. While he’s taking a swig, you feel a silent obligation to take a seat but your eyes are determinedly fixed on the curb.

The bench suddenly feels far too big and the night breeze is far too cold for Minho’s liking, so he shifts his body closer, fingers brushing over yours and sending electricity down your spine. “What do you mean?” he scoffs, finding it hard to not look at you so his gaze is temporarily glued onto the can of green tea in his palms. “Tonight was nothing compared to Jisung’s birthday.” He can still feel the remaining warmth from your hands, it makes him wonder how it’d feel to actually hold them.

“Ugh, god,” you shake your head in disbelief, internally cringing. “Don’t even remind me.”

You still don’t know what Hyunjin fed him that day to the point he couldn’t remember what happened. All hell broke loose Felix posted a video of him pretending to be a stupid ostrich and trying to do a mating dance towards Jisung on Twitter. No one dares to talk about that scarred video since. Now that he’s reminded you of it, you wish you didn’t own brain cells in the first place. This is why the internet is scary.

“What is it that you wanted to tell me anyway?”

Minho stops for a second at your question and places his beverage down on the bench. He stares distantly at the space ahead as if he’s fighting with himself inside his own head, seriously contemplating something. It’s come to your attention that this isn’t very like his usual self. Minho never hesitates for a second when he has something in mind. Even when he knows that you might rip his head off.

He exhales deeply, turns his head, and makes direct eye contact with you for what seems like an eternity. His eyes are as wide open and honest as a child’s, they possess something so much more the longer you stare at them. A warmth, safety. Your heart is gonna combust if he doesn’t get this over with soon.

Then, “I think I forgot to put yeast in the batter.” Wait what?

“Minho!” you punch his arm, earning a low grunt from the blond-haired boy. “Don’t fucking scare me like that!” He’s looking at you as though your eyes are turning red with rage and smoke is coming out of your ears, scared for his own life but truthfully, you’re just relieved. Surprisingly.

“Wait, so you’re not mad?” he asks you with a wide-eyed expression, trying way too hard to keep a straight face. “Aren’t we supposed to bring homemade bread for the get together at the nursing home tomorrow?”

“Old people still enjoy Bingo for some reason, they can have that instead of bread.” His mouth forms a small ‘o’ as he scoots closer to you and you can tell that he reeks off alcohol, which is making you a little dizzy. When your gaze falls elsewhere but Lee Minho, you attempt to appear casual, “But if you wanna bake so badly, I can still pull an all-nighter and start over with you.” That was doable, but you could have done better—should have sounded like you didn’t really care.

Minho flings his bangs away from his face and tosses his head back, chuckling breathlessly. “Don’t you have a midterm to stress over instead of me? I don’t want you to pick out every single strand of hair on your head after baking with me.” He finally said something nice once in a while, you sorta appreciate it. “It’d be embarrassing when my parents FaceTime me and see you as bald as my great grandfather.” Nevermind, he’s still the same old jerk.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you’ll be moving out in two weeks, either way, right?” Your tone sounds sad and grim all of a sudden; it really dampens the atmosphere because Minho is now looking at you with concern laced in his brown eyes. “Look, I get that it’s bothersome to be my roommate so there’s no need to feel bad. I’ll be fine going back to my old life where my feet don’t get cold in the middle of the night because no one would be there to hog the blanket anymore.”

Minho feels the need to clear things up here. “I never said anything about moving out,” he grabs you by the shoulders and hopes you could just look at him when he’s being serious for once. “Y/N, who even said anything about moving out? Was it the landlord?”

“No,“ you say, still not willing to face him directly. You’re such a coward.

“If so, why would I move out? Did I do something wrong? Did I piss you off or something?”

You’re trying so hard not to snap at this point. “No!”

“Then why can’t you just fucking look at me?!”

“You’re still drunk, let me buy you another—“

Minho shakes you forcefully, hoping to knock some common sense into that brain of yours. “For fuck’s sake, I’m not drunk!” he cries helplessly, not caring about the fact that he’s waking up every cat possible in the neighborhood. “Just- just look at me, will you?”

You stubbornly keep your eyes anywhere but him. “Why would I look at your stupid face?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Y/N. You’re not usually like this.”

Every single cell inside your body quivers simultaneously when he says so—good god, no, he’s testing you. Minho knows something’s off. Now to think about it again, you’d rather let him dirty your carpet than being put on trial like this.

“You wanna know why I’m acting like this? It’s because of you! You’re making me nervous! It’s your fault for making me feel this way!”

“What?” he blurts, eyes blinking numerous times in disbelief. “What did I ever do to you?”

“God, Minho, you can’t possibly be this dense. Tell me, that you’ve never, not even once, seen me turning beet red when you simply look at me in the eye. Or when you’re just sitting there, laughing your ass off about something stupid. It makes my heart flutter, okay? You make my heart flutter. Do you know how much of an effect you can have on me? You don’t go around juggling with others’ feelings like that,” your voice grows smaller and smaller towards the end until there’s nothing but an oddly comfortable silene floating midair. A sense of relief washes over you; you unknowingly exhale.

Minho stares at you in awe for a moment there, until he also speaks up for himself. “Maybe you should take your own advice,” he almost snickers, and this causes you to peel your gaze away from a random bush to gawk at his response. “You’re telling me to not go around juggling with others’ feelings? If anything, you’re the one who keeps messing with my heart. What am I supposed to do? Not get drunk so that I won’t be able to get away for doing dumb things?”

“What dumb things?”

“I don’t know, kiss you?”

“Fuck, you can’t get away with it this time now, can you?”

You’re already regretting this and there’s no turning back. Because when Minho subconsciously runs his tongue over his bottom lips, you’re already fighting the rouge spreading on your cheekbones. He shortens the distance between your heads until your lips are practically a breath away from his. Impatient, you grab a fistful of his shirt to smash your lips against his. Minho stays frozen for a nanosecond, taken aback by your boldness before pulling you closer by the waist. You’re hesitant at first, but he guides you through it, telling you that it’s okay by embracing you more tightly. Dear god, Minho’s kissing you and the world just falls away. It’s slow, comforting in ways that words can never be. He slackens his jaw to deepen the kiss, smiling into it when giddiness bubbles up inside his stomach.

The world still feels like it’s spinning when he parts away, an alcoholic taste mixed with the green tea ghosts your lips, and your face grows ten times hotter. Even in this cracked darkness, Minho sees you blush hard and is fully aware that his cheeks are mirroring yours—he doesn’t even bother to convince himself that it’s from the alcohol, because it isn’t.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Minho questions though his breath is still a bit shaky from the kiss. He really didn’t lie when he said that he could never stop bothering you.

You can’t help but smile at him brightly; this causes his heartbeat to spike inside his chest. “Well, do I have to?” He shakes his head and stares down at your hands until he musters up every strand of courage left to finally intertwine them with his own. Fits like a glove.

“Come on, let’s go home,” he tells you softly, eyes crinkling into a pretty crescent moon shape. But you stop him right there when he attempts to stand up and wordlessly lean your forehead against his. Minho understands that you simply need a moment so you both hover right there, simply melting into each other’s touch. But what you say next just makes the ignited passion inside his heart flare-up. He’s at a loss for words, utterly speechless.

“I am home.”

“Welcome home then, Y/N,” Minho whispers.

Everything feels like a dream that you’d never want to wake up from. His hands are clasped on either side of your face, resting just below the lobes of your ears. His thumbs gently caress your cheeks so that you won’t drift away, your breaths mingling. Never before has your own name made your heart flutter. But you guess it’s only because Minho said it. You do know that it’s not an afterthought, nor out of impulse. It’s a promise, for whatever’s coming your way on this path, he’s never gonna leave you behind. And the moment he feels that thing beating inside his chest is in sync with yours, he slowly leans in again.

Albert Einstein once said you can’t blame gravity for falling in love. And you have every right to argue with him in the afterlife because you’ve confirmed that Minho is your gravity. Gravity keeps you grounded, always get a hold of you so that you won’t ever have to wander off too far away. It’s there for you but it doesn’t have to act like it cares. Minho’s kinda like that too—he picked you up every time you said you’re good walking home, he only stocked up the stash of candies to secretly feed your midnight cravings. They only differ so much where his heartbeat for you is loud, undaunted and he loves you fearlessly; nothing shall meddle with his feelings for you as long as the way your eyes light up when they meet his doesn’t change.

Before you met Minho, you didn’t know that it was possible to just look at someone and smile for no reason. The way his lips curl up when he smiles, his sarcastic remarks, his kindhearted nature though he’s awfully good at hiding it. That’s what people do when they’re in love, they say—to fawn over the littlest things but they’re what makes you fall so hard for him. But as time passes by, you’ve learned that it’s actually quite nice to be in love with someone. Because then, you get to spend your time and effort on their happiness as well, not just your own. In exchange, that person is capable of bringing colors to your dull world, tearing down your walls, and showing you just how beautiful life can be. Surely, Minho might not stay by your side forever in this crazy game of Monopoly but you’d risk it all for him even if the sky comes crashing and the universe turns upside down.

After all, you can’t love alone.

#stayshub #skzwritersclub #stray kids lee know #stray kids scenarios #lee know imagines #stray kids imagines #lee know scenarios #stray kids minho #minho roommate au #minho college au #lino fic #lee minho #lee know #college au #roommate au

756 notes · View notes

pjm-com · 4 years

Text

Deep Red

soulmate!au

In a world where you see black n white until you meet your soulmate, you’re noticing that Jungkook isn’t putting in the same effort he had been before. The relationship feels dead now, unmoving. His best friend Taehyung is trying to move you into a positive direction; one that leads to him.

( Listen to Deep Red by Movements)

Saying ‘no’ has never hurt anyone.

You’re repeating that to yourself as you pull up to the party. Well, party is an understatement, considering it was just the friend group. Namjoon and Jin’s roommate was away, and he wanted to get the everyone together; inner circle only. College only gave you so much time to mingle with your friends so you guess you can’t complain, even if you wanted to stay home. The only reason you’re really opposed is because you seem to be an extra in the movie that is Jungkook’s world.

It sounds idiotic and maybe a little dramatic, but he was the deadbeat boyfriend all the girls hoped they’d never have. The first two months you had together was like it was a script. He’d take you on dates, pick you up and drop you off before curfew, while walking you to your door. Come over and help you study, cuddle you on the rough days. It was a relationship most were jealous of, where he was not only your boyfriend, but your best friend.

Everyone said you guys wouldn’t last and you’re thinking maybe they’re right. He barely spends time with you anymore, always drags you out to parties and has you home late. Crying every night cause he’s putting in the bare minimum. Jin, your best friend, always asks why you put up with it and you give him the same delusional answer.

He’s your ‘soulmate’.

“You ready?” He hums softly, hand tapping your thigh as you park in front of Namjoon’s house. The soft light from the streetlamp is hitting his face in the right way, making him look ethereal, even if it was in black and white.

You lean forward to press a hope filled kiss against his lips, one that he returns gently. “Yeah.”

Getting out of the car, you’re nearly hoisted into the air by Namjoon that has you squealing in excitement. He was crazy strong, throwing you over his shoulder as he walked inside his own house. It was roomy inside, the living room already set for everyone to hang out. You can see the opened beer cans across the table, some even tipped over and you look at your Apple Watch, seeing it was only eight.

“Starting early huh, Joon?”

You can practically hear him grin as he sets you down, but of course the alcohol in his system has you tipping backwards into a tall figure. It was a small bump, but you’re giggling because Hoseok and Jimin are acting over dramatic. They practically throw themselves onto the floor like a couple of bowling pins which has you laughing even harder.

“Y/N!” Hoseok whines, rubbing his elbow while Jimin lays on his back pretending to be knocked out. You roll your eyes, grabbing his hand to pull him up before pushing the top of your foot into the blonde’s side. “How could you just kill Jimin like that!!” That makes everyone groan sarcastically as you push your hair behind your ear and kick Jimin lightly.

“She still loves me,” Jimin swoons playfully as you kick him, making him hold his heart before jumping up. “How are you, babe?” You accept the hug that he gives you, holding him tightly. You shrug, looking at Jungkook who is already downing shots with Namjoon. The bond between all of them was unbreakable, and you didn’t feel like starting anything tonight, so you lie.

“I’ve been good! Classes have been kicking my ass, but that’s just the usual for all of us anyways. How’s the new dance class?” The look Jimin gives makes you think for a second that he doesn’t buy it and you feel your stomach drop. Thankfully, he doesn’t press further.

“It’s been okay,” He starts before Taehyung emerges from the kitchen, with two drinks in his hand.

Laughing, he replies with a, “What he means is the kids are actual devils.” Jimin cries, talking about how they were kicking his ankles but you’re focused on the raven haired male as he hands you a drink.

Kim Taehyung was nothing, if not the most wholesome person in the group. As Jungkook’s best friend, you guys had gotten close over the years you had been together, which means he has also seen the uglier side of the younger. Whenever Jungkook would drag you out somewhere and then blatantly ignore you, Taehyung was quick to make sure you felt included. It was something you loved about him, and devoted as you were to your boyfriend, the thought remained heavy in the back of your head. What if Taehyung was your boyfriend instead?

You shake to the recesses of your memory, not wanting to think about that as he pulls you into a side hug. You almost miss the sound of him asking how you are, and you let the question roll around in your head. You feel like you could be honest with Taehyung, considering he knows you as well as Jungkook does, more so right now. Leaning your head on his shoulder, you sigh.

“Honestly I could be better.. Ju—“

“Cmon guys, we’re starting the drinking game!”

Jin’s voice cuts you off loudly and Taehyung throws you a small look, like he was waiting for you to say something but he doesn’t ask again as you both walk deeper into the living room. You feel a weight lifted on your shoulders as you’ve dodged another attempt to talk about something you’re avoiding deeply. You smile at him, nodding as if to tell him ‘I’ll tell you later’ while moving towards the couch where your boyfriend sat. Jungkook pats the spot in front of him and you kneel down into the spot, glad that you chose sweats and a baby doll tee rather than a skirt. Leaning back into the space between his legs, he tilts your head back a little to catch your lips in a kiss that’s soft and slow. He smiles into the movements, letting you up before brushing his fingers through the tangles in your hair.

It’s a kiss that should make you weak, but the flame, unfortunately, is gone. He holds you and kisses you like you’re his, but the verbal actions don’t say the same. Now you’re the one downing your drink in hopes to get your mind to slow down.

“What game are we playing again?” You ask, sipping the last of your drink before setting it to the table on your left. Jin bends down to take the vacant spot next to you, throwing you a ‘hey girl’ before settling into the cushions. You felt a hell of a lot better with Jin by your side, hand folding with his as he squeezes it softly. He was the only one who truly knew how you felt, which is why he probably raced Hoseok for this certain spot.

Jin snorts. “Uno?” His head turns as you all watch Yoongi emerge from the hallway holding a stack of cards. You’re really hoping it isn’t uno, or go fish. Those, of all games, were boring. Okay, maybe you’d let UNO slide but ‘Sorry!’ can go.

Suga takes the spot next to Taehyung on the rug, setting the huge deck on the floor before cracking open his four loko.

“No. When I was thinking of games to play, I figured.. what? You’d drink every time you had to pick a card?” Yoongi hands everyone one card faced down before handing them another face up and you finally understand.

“Black jack!” You and Taehyung say in unison, making you both laugh softly. You can practically feel Jungkook behind you, tensing as he rubs your shoulders softly. You can’t care less.

Yoongi gets the game started as the dealer, trying a new way as he used three decks to play. You’re not sure how that even worked, but everyone was having fun, and you had long forgotten about Jungkook and school. It seems everyone else had too, because the cards were set aside and everyone was talking, drunk off the beers the game forced them to drink. You, as well, are feeling a little tipsy considering you busted way too many times leaving Yoongi to fill up your cup three times. You’re almost feeling a little tired too, but you listen to everyone talk, not really paying attention until you hear Jimin and Taehyung’s convo.

“No guys, stop,” Jimin whined as Namjoon and Taehyung laughed. “I think she might really be my soulmate.” You feel the mood go somber at that word, but you know its only for you, even if you and Taehyung briefly share a look.

Namjoon lets out a groan of frustration. “Dude, you guys fucked like… once? She can’t be there’s no way.” Jimin launches into a huge spiel about how when the time is right he’ll know and the connection is too good to pass up but even that leaves you stumbling.

You remember stories that your mom told you of her friends finding their soulmate, even how her and your dad met. She said your world stays black and white until you truly connect with your soulmate, then you’re weirdly connected to them like a magnet. Even after being with Jungkook for two years, you haven’t had the connection and your faith in the concrete foundation of your relationship is slipping. Right through your fingers it seems. You wonder what the hell it takes for a couple to truly connect? How long it takes?

You think it’s sweet. It’s refreshing to hear someone talk about someone they love, and You catch Taehyung’s eyes. You both share the same dumb expression with silly smiles, watching Jimin pour his heart out to people who are barely listening. You watch Taehyung move from his spot to come sit on your other side, laughing as his drink spills a little. No one is really paying attention to the cards, and you start yet another random conversation about the weather or something.

You and Taehyung were avid sim players, and if anything, it was easy to move to a sims related topic just of the Seasons expansion pack. You feel Jungkook tap your shoulders, and you nod at him to give you a minute. He keeps calling your name, louder.

“One second,” you mumble irritated, feeling as his small poking turns into painful jabs. You turn on him, flinching into Taehyung at the aggressiveness fo the motions. “What do you need, jungkook?” You can tell he’s angry, but you’re just lost on why.

“Get me another drink? Thanks,” he huffs, pushing his empty cup into your hand that was already full, causing the contents to spill.

The silence after that sentence is damaging your ears as you watch everyones faces turn. The way it was so abrupt and how the tone descended onto your ears. The boys’ faces around you seem shocked, considering Jungkook barely interrupted you. Interrupted literally anyone. You feel your chest tighten as you look up at him and there’s no emotion in his eyes, no warmth. He’s just waiting while you feel a thousand eyes on you before Taehyung clears his throat.

“You know uh.. I need a refill too, I’ll come with.” He’s suddenly right by your side as you both walk into the kitchen, glad that it was a completely different room. “You okay?” He asks quietly and you set both the cups on the counter as you take a deep breath. The moment you hear Jungkook laughing in the other room has your breaking down over the counter, screwing your eyes shut as your hands balled into fists.

You’re not sure why you’re even crying.

Because Jungkook asked you to get him a drink, and didn’t say please? Because he interrupted you? Because he was a dick about it, but you’re used to that. You think you’re crying because the relationship wasn’t the same and it won’t ever be. He would’ve done it himself and offered to fill yours. He would’ve been showing you affection and holding your hand while you guys went out. Offering to spend the night so you guys can hangout. Every time you guys text, it’s because you texted first. You have to beg him to FaceTime, beg him to hangout. You’re crying over something small, but it’s the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Hey.. You okay?” Taehyung says softly, hand pressed to the lower portion of your back. It’s the question that makes everyone cry at least a little bit harder, almost forcing you into the arms of the brunette (you assume) standing next to you. You hold him tightly, body shaking as you let out all emotions into his hands. To be honest, he’s not sure what to do, considering he’s never had a crying girl in his arms before. He’s almost thinking he should get Jungkook, but goes with his better judgement.

Bringing yourself together, you finally catch a break, to breathe deeply before pulling away and wiping the makeup from your eyes.

“It’s j-just…” You hiccup loudly, hand on your forehead as you take a deep breath into your stomach. “I know it se-seems like a small thing, but everything a-adds up, Taehyung.”

He pouts. “I know it does, Y/N… I can tell.” He’s rubbing your back in circular motions to keep you breathing steadily. “We all can tell how much this is really affecting you.” You nod with him, eyes darting to the doorway of the room every now and then, hoping that he doesn’t come in here. You honestly were just so fed up with how he was acting.

“I put one hundred and ten percent into the relationship, Tae. I give everything and he keeps taking and taking, and I can’t do it anymore… I love him, but what if he isn’t my soulmate? We’ve been together for three years and haven’t connected yet? W-what a joke,” you sob, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. Taehyung isn’t having any of it, shaking his head like he was disappointed in you. And he was. He often wonders why the hell you can’t see your own worth. Why you’re still with Jungkook. He’s his best friend, but god he isn’t blind. Neither is the entire friend group.

“Y/N. I can promise you right now that he is not your soulmate, and if you can’t see that then you’re missing out on the obvious.”

By now he’s pushing some of your hair out of your face and wiping the black smudge of the mascara from your cheeks.

“Even if you guys started seeing with each other, I would still pray you find someone who loves you Y/N. Someone who wants to put all their time into you, and your life.” Hearing those words fall on your ears was like a relief. You wanted to believe so bad that there was someone out there for you like that. That would want you as much as you wanted them. You’re even wishing it was Taehyung.

After a while, you nod. “That sounds nice…. Your soulmate is sure g-going to be lucky,” you laugh softly before looking back towards the door. You decide not to waste anymore tears, wiping your eyes for— hopefully— the last time. “You’re right.. The tears really aren’t worth it.”

“They aren’t. The baddest bitch I know doesn’t need to be crying.”

Thank god, you’re laughing now. Sniffling your nose like the baby you are, you’re shoving him playfully with a dumb smile on your face.

“Shut up.”

He smiles softly, a little laugh exiting his mouth. “See? You know it too… c’mere-“ He motions for you to fall into his arms, and you do. He was right. If Jungkook wasn’t going to put in effort, then who were you to even try? Not the one. Jungkook’s hugs didn’t even feel the same. Taehyung’s were warm and filled with meaning. He wanted you to know that he cared, and you wanted to stay there for as long as you could. Like you couldn’t even get out of the embrace, but you knew Jin was bound to come looking for you sometime.

Pulling away, you’re ready to thank him but you find yourself looking down at the color of the red vans you sport on your feet. You almost want to puke on them, eyes bulging at the sight. You blink a couple times, the last of tears dripping from your eyes to the fabric of your shoes. They follow them to your ankle with a purple beaded anklet resting on your tan skin. All these colors you never knew existed. Snapping your head up, Taehyung wears the same expression you are, eyes ready to burst from his head. You know he sees the color too, his hands still enclosed around yours. You’re seconds away from pointing out the color that you finally see, but you can’t breathe. Not one bit.

A huge dizzy wave hits your head, making you stumble back a little bit as Jin enters the room. You always figured Jin had some sort of tie to you, considering he always knew when you were in trouble or felt distressed without you having to say a word.

“Hey.. Y/N. Jungkook says he’s getting ready to leave, so….” You shake your head, unable to rip the gaze from Taehyung’s face. You finally scan him quick, a tan undertone to his skin. Cheeks red, eyes a dark brown. Now you notice his hair, which was in fact… not brown like you had figured. It was dirty blonde, dark roots at the beginning of the strands. You felt your stomach wobbling, hand holding it in place. Maybe it was the alcohol or the sudden shock, but you’re running to the bathroom. Jin follows you closely, throwing an apology over his shoulder to the newfound blonde.

“What the hell?”

Jin’s voice comes soft over your ears as you wretch over the toilet, nothing but pure alcohol and the small half of a ham sandwich. It tasted foul, making you wanting to throw even more up, but your stomach contracts to signal there isn’t anything left. Sitting down next to the toilet you shake your head as Jin shuts the door.

The first thing you say is, “red… red.” You breathe heavily over the toilet, watching Jin with a wild expression on his face, like you’ve grown another head. You feel like you have. “Is Jung— is he gone?”

Flushing the toilet, the raven haired boy shuts the lid and sits on it, moving your head to lay softly on his thigh. Jin doesn’t know what the fuck just happened, but he’s texting Jungkook to go considering you’re puking all over the bathroom. He gets the read receipt, and knows Jungkook is probably halfway to his car. Maybe something happened with the two in question, and Jin is hoping so. He never liked Jungkook one bit. He used to be the golden boy. Straight A’s, always smiling, making plans and cheering up the group as best as he could.

No one knows what turned him. Maybe it was the frat he joined, the parties he went to. Maybe he did some coke but you weren’t too sure. Something changed Jungkook, and you have no clue what it was. Maybe you’ll never want to know.

“Yeah, I think he left. Baby… you okay?” It felt like a loaded question, and you were finally breathing regularly as you looked up at him, tears in your eyes. This was Jin. He’d have advice for you. You lean your forehead forward into his lap, shaking your head. You feel the warm hand on your back, rubbing in rhythmic circles.

“I think…” You start, looking up at him and restarting more slower. “I think.. No, I know Jungkook isn’t my soulmate.. And I’m stupid for thinking so.” Saying those words out loud had your head spinning, Jin’s eyebrows cocked up as he scoffs in disbelief.

“You didn’t figure this out sooner?”

You whine. “Jin.. this is serious!”

“Okay,” he laughs, hand running through the tangles in your hair. “How did you come to this realization?” You honestly don’t know where to start, leaning back so you could see him better as you stand up, leaning against the bathroom counter. You’re wondering where Taehyung is, hoping to catch him to talk. You’ve never been this fucking confused in your life.

“Because, wh-when me and Taehyung were in the kitchen, I was ranting to him and he was comforting me and just being there. And the entire time I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I wanted Jungkook to act more like him.. When we pulled away, everything just bursted into color, Seokjin.” His brown eyes got serious as you used his full name, mouth dropping open. Jin, for once, didn’t have a comment.

“I know.. god, I fucking know. Who would’ve known? I’d been chasing Jungkook for so long, who the hell would’ve known Taehyung would’ve been my soulmate… and what the hell do I do about Jungkook?”

Jin takes a deep breath. “I think, that you should sleep it off, Y/N. Maybe… how about we just relax for the night you know? Even if it’s hard, I want your mind off of this. You deserve a breather,” he said softly, standing to kiss your forehead before grabbing a couple facemasks and dragging you out of the bathroom. He was right. You definitely weren’t going to decide on anything tonight. Your brain was on the brink of exploding, and it would be foolish to think you could even come to a conclusion. After a good nights rest and a couple of days, you’d decide what to do.

Putting your trust in Jin for the night, you breathe freely.

“Alright, lets do it.”

It wasn’t hard to get you distracted from the elephant in the room, sitting in the living room with weak ass martinis since Jin can’t mix drinks for shit. They were on the fruitier side which you were thankful for, but you took it one sip at a time, mind slowly drifting to funnier things. Like Jin’s current love interests.

The house was much more comforting when it was just you and Jin under the roof, (with the exception of Namjoon). You had slipped into some shorts and a sweater, thanking the lord that Jin already had a pair of your pajamas here from the other nights you spent together. The best thing about having a guy as your best friend is that he won’t wear the clothes that you happen to forget. However, the worst is that he will tell you the truth about anything— no matter how it’ll make you feel. Jin wasn’t the one that liked to hurt feelings, but he did when he needed to.

Jin, being your best friend, could tell when something was up. He knew about the fights that you and Jungkook would get in. The days where you wanted to do nothing but cry, he was by your side. He knew the look on your face when something was wrong.

You were both parked on the couch, lights dimmed and some random movie on Netflix playing. Jin wouldn’t stop talking about the secret crush he always had on Namjoon— gushing about the way Namjoon walks around the house shirtless.

“That fucking tat—“ Jin stops in his tracks when he sees Namjoon trudge into the kitchen. Shirtless, of course.

The black sweatpants rested on his waist, his V-line visible to anyone with eyes willing to travel that far down his figure. The dragon tattoo that wrapped around his arm was now a deep red to you. His hand ran through the messy black hair that laid over his bloodshot eyes. If it wasn’t for the smell of weed, you’d think that Namjoon hasn’t eaten in a week. He scavenged through the cabinets, collecting a few of each snack there was. After being satisfied with what he took, to your surprise he decided to sit down with you and Jin.

“What were you guys talking about? I know you weren’t watching this dumb ass movie,” Namjoon unwraps his first Hostess cupcake, almost taking the whole thing in his mouth within the first bite.

Jin stared at him, drool basically coming out of his mouth at the sight in front of him. “Uh, nothing just talking about Jungkook,” he stumbles over his words.

“Oh, boring. Want a cupcake?” Namjoon waves one in front of your face. In response you shake your head, causing Namjoon and Jin to share a glance with one another.

“What’s wrong? I bought these with you in mind because you always clean them off of our shelves,” Namjoon ponders. Jin decided whether or not to save you from Namjoon’s questions, but let you decide for yourself considering your face looked contemplating.

While Namjoon waited for your answer, thoughts on what to say raked your mind. Should you even trust Namjoon about what you were about to say?

Deciding to take a sharp left turn, you ditch Taehyung completely. “It’s just.. Jungkook being.. Jungkook.”

Namjoon scoffs, scratching his chest lightly. He nods like he understands… because he does.

“Lately he’s been getting irritating. Why haven’t you just dumped him yet?” You and Jin both lean back at the small outburst, Namjoon staring at you dead serious. You open your mouth to respond but Namjoon is all over it. “Seriously, Y/N. Fuck him. He’s so blind. If I was into girls, I would’ve tried to get with you a while ago. You need to move on to someone who appreciates all of you. There’s gotta be somebody.” You sit there, braindead as you unpack everything Namjoon said.

Jin laughs. “Damn. Well good thing you’re into boys cause I think I know the perfect guy for Y/N.” You know Jin has the fattest fucking grin on his face the travels from ear to ear. Meeting his eyes, you laugh loudly as he practically stares dreamily at Namjoon. “But seriously, Y/N. Just dump him.”

You nod, hyping yourself up for a bit. You didn’t need him. Taehyung or not, you didn’t deserve to be treated like that. Downing the rest of your martini, you smile at the two idiots.

“Thank you guys.. I really needed this.”

Namjoon cracks open his coke, downing it before burping acidly. “Yeah yeah… who’s the mystery man?”

You groan while Jin makes you another fruity drink. Namjoon is going to get an earful tonight.

——————

The next few days felt like a fever dream, moping around the house. You’re not sure why, but you feel no motivation. Your room is a mess, the small kitchen in your apartment is dirty but you leave it. You’re trying to hard to wrap your head around the situation at hand, even the small weed handouts from Namjoon aren’t helping.

Now it’s a Wednesday night and you have no plans, and a boyfriend who is out with Jimin at some gaming arcade. They haven’t gone out together in a while, but you were happy for them to get one on one time. You knew deep down, Jimin missed hanging out with the dark haired idiot, and they were probably having a blast. You smile at the thought of them playing video games together, Jungkook laughing collectively with the bleached blonde as they shoot at the screen.

That being said, you’re still fucking bored so you decide to dial Namjoon to see what he was up to. The energy and words he gave you the other night was something you needed more of. Joon had this chill, laid back vibe to him where he goes with the flow and tells it like it is. You think it’s the weed.

“Hello?” Namjoon answers through a mouthful of food. Fat ass.

You respond. “Watcha up to?”

“Ohhh,” He snorts. “You wanna hangout with me as a last resort huh?” Rolling your eyes, you hear him laugh as he switches it to his other ear, the sound of chips crunching coming through the phone.

“Stupid. You’re the first one I called.”

He falls silent. “Right. Well anyways, I’m about to go on a weed run. I got deals to make. Wanna join? I got Trizzy Tae with me.” Even if your stomach drops a little at the sound of his name, you laugh at the nickname along with the other two males. You sigh.

“Why the hell not. I’m looking a little busted,” you hum, looking down at your leggings and tight sweater. Okay maybe you rocked this fit a little bit. “Come pick me up.”

The boys holler. “Be there in five.” The line goes dead as you set your phone in your lap, nose to the ceiling. You weren’t sure how you felt seeing Taehyung again. You were definitely not ready to see him, but you were bored out of your fucking mind. That, and you needed to rip off the bandaid before it got the best of you.

Pushing off of the couch, you stand up and decide to shut off the lights in the living room, grabbing a water before moving towards the door. You glance towards your phone while slipping on your shoes.

You : hey, im goin out with joon and taehyung. how’s the night with you and jimin?

You know he isn’t going to read it for a while so you just pocket the phone, and heading out the door so you can lock it behind you. You make your way down to the lobby of your apartment, stepping out the huge glass doors to see that Namjoon was pulling to the curb. A wave of relief washes over you as you climb into the passenger seat. Taehyung sat comfortable in the back as you nod both to them, eyes lingering on Taehyung’s face.

“Why are you sitting in the backseat, you dork?”

He laughs, shrugging. “Cause I know you wanted shotgun.” You smile at him, snorting as you agree. You would’ve wanted shotgun, and you can admire the deep red interior of Namjoon’s Tesla; a gift from his father. Strapping yourself in, you notice the huge bag at your feet as you scoff. Picking it up, you pull out a couple pre-scaled bags of weed, eyeing them closely as you turn to namjoon.

“What?” He whined, pulling away from the curb and driving towards the main roads. He pushes the contents back into the bag and onto the floor, clicking his tongue. “You gon’ learn tonight.” Looking back at Taehyung, you roll your eyes at the idiot behind the driver seat. Taehyung shares your gaze, returning his to his phone as The Chain by Fleetwood Mac comes on the radio. Perfect, you think. A song about not feeling the same like you used to. That was something you knew a little too well. Still you sing along, Namjoon belting out all the notes loud as hell, and for what.

The ride was relaxing, making you forget about Jungkook and the Taehyung situation. You were with your best friends, laughing loudly and enjoying the cool night air that was provided. It was maybe the best you’ve felt in a long time, and you had a feeling that nothing could ruin the high you were on. You do admit, you were a little worried considering Jungkook hasn’t texted you, but then again, he’s with friends.

As you guys made stops for weed, you felt more and more relaxed, eyebrows shooting up when Namjoon said he was tired.

“Cmon… I haven’t been outside all day, lets just make one more,” you whined, pouting at him while he laughed. Putting the car in drive, he shrugs.

“Yeah, the next one is only a couple of blocks over, so lets hit that before going to get food. A bro is starving.” You laugh at Taehyung agreeing, and sit back in your seat, checking your phone again for any texts. The more deliveries you guys made, the less you had to worry about stupid Jungkook. The less you had to sit and stare at the phone.

You turn at the sound of Taehyung laughing at his phone, raising your eyebrow.

He snorts. “Jimin just sent me the funniest photo of his dog.” You want to laugh along but you stop, doing a full 180 in your seat at that sentence. He shows you, and you see with your own eyes that Jimin is home, and not at the arcade. You calm yourself down, pushing your hair behind your ears.

“Oh uh,, did he just get home?” Taehyung shakes his head, saying that he’s been snapping him from home the whole night. You heart sinks, but if that wasn’t enough, Namjoon throws the car in park.

“We’re here, but…” He trails off. “That car looks a lot lik—“

“Jungkook’s.”

As Taehyung finishes the sentence, you whip your head around to find his chevy cobalt sitting in the driveway of a house you didn’t recognize. Okay. Okay, maybe he’s hanging out with another guy friend that you don’t know.. But why would he lie? Getting out of the car, you slam the door shut before storming to the front door, namjoon in tow with the small bag in his hand and Taehyung silent. You can feel how tense the air is now, like a hand around your throat. Knocking on the door, a girl answers the door within seconds. Namjoon tries to explain that she’s gonna need to step back, but you push past the girl gently.

You weren’t mad at her, how could she have known? As you made your way to the living room, you notice various pairs of his shoes on the shoe rack, multiple of his jackets and hoodies hung on the coat rack. You feel rage as you slam open the door to the living room, Jungkook shirtless on the couch. It was obvious that he has been comfortable there for a while.

“You’re such a fucking dick,” you say calmly, fist in balls at your sides. You feel the girl standing next to you, arms crossed as she looked at Jungkook. “If you were sick and tired of me, you should’ve fucking said something.”

Jungkook turns white at the sight of you guys together, getting up as he shakes his hand. “It’s not what you thin—“

“It’s exactly what she thinks… You’ve been dating me for two months, and her how long?” The girl next to you says loudly, obviously angry. Your heart shatters. Tears fall freely from your face, knowing that the last three years you’ve been together must have not meant anything if he was willing to cheat.

“For three years,” you answer her, voice cracking. She throws you a shocked look, hand on your shoulder before you see someone run past in the corner of your eye. Within seconds, Taehyung is lunging over the coffee table to tackle Jungkook to the ground. You scream for him to stop, but it falls on deaf ears, watching them scuffle on the floor. Everyone in the room is watching, Jungkook rolling them over and getting a few good punches to Taehyung’s face. You move to separate the fight, but Taehyung is grabbing Jungkook by the neck and pushing him into the floor.

“Piece of shit,” he practically growls, knuckles connecting with the side of his face. The sound is sickening, and you watch as he pummels Jungkook’s face. You can see blood forming on the skin of Jungkook’s face, from Taehyung’s cracked knuckles. Namjoon moves quick to pull Taehyung off of him, which results in the blonde to push Joon back a few steps, storming off to the car. You’re floored, Watching Namjoon apologize to the girl before dropping the bag into her hands and pulling you out of the house.

The sight of Jungkook on the carpet, face bloody had your heart wrenching into many pieces. Sure, he was cheating, but he looked wrecked. You didn’t have any time to even wallow even if he deserved it, because you’re moving into the backseat next to Taehyung. Namjoon fires the engine and pulls away from the curb, watching the injured boy in the back as he high tails it to Taehyung’s house. Your eyes avert to the man in question, looking at his balled fists. Wincing at the blood on the knuckles, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

He just kicked his best friend’s ass.

Your boyfriend’s ass. You’re smiling a little on the inside, but you can’t cheer right now. Something felt wrong. You wanted to get home, and you were bringing Taehyung even if he refused. You notice a small part on his forehead is split too, and you were itching to patch him up. You had a feeling that Taehyung would go on a bender, and the last thing you wanted was him to go back out to get revenge or… something, considering he was literally fuming right next to you.

Namjoon pulls to the curb next to Taehyung’s house and you shrug. This will have to do.

“Hey, just uh… just drop us off here,” You say softly to Namjoon as he throws the car in park. “I’ll call you later, yeah? Tell Jin not to wait up for a text or anything..” With that and a small wave, you scoot out of the seat and follow Taehyung to the complex of his apartments, trailing behind him quietly as you reach the second floor.

You don’t even know what you’re going to say, or even ask him. It wasn’t his place to take care of Jungkook for you, although you appreciated the gesture. But the fight had left so many questions unanswered. Why did Taehyung feel compelled to do that, and why was he so angry for you? Does he even want to discuss it, or the realization you both came to the other day? Does he feel something for you, and if s-

“Y/N?” Taehyung laughs softly, holding open his apartment door while you stand like a dormant idiot in the hallway. You apologize softly, the questions running rampant while you step into his house and kick off your shoes by his much larger ones. Once he shuts and locks the door, he starts to walk towards the kitchen. “You hungry?”

You deadpan to yourself. He was really thinking about food???

Grabbing his arm, you pull him in front of you. “Hey, just slow down for a second okay??? You act like you just didn’t beat the fuck out of Jungkook… cmon, we can think about food in a sec,” you say quietly, looking at how the scratch on his forehead is starting to dry. He stays in place as he holds his stomach. He looks like he doesn’t want to talk about what just happened, and naturally you want to pry but he moves away from you into the kitchen.

Maybe he regrets fighting Jungkook, or maybe they had beef for a while, you’re not sure. You watch the dirty blonde move towards his cabinet as he pulls out instant ramen, motioning the cup towards you in a gesture of offering. You wave him off, rejecting the noodles but he pops the cup into the microwave anyways.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, watching the cup turn in the little box. You raise a brow.

“For?”

Taehyung shrugs, lower back against the counter as he crosses his arm. Taehyung didn’t know where to start, so he decides to not say anything while waiting for the three beeps to go off. Once the cup his done, he carefully takes it and brings it to the table where you’re also sitting. He forks the noodles into his mouth, making you laugh a bit at the messy way he is eating. Even then, you’re hanging on his word, waiting for something.

“Sorry,” he repeats. “For a lot of things… I was super hungry and just wanted to eat. Also I’m sorry for getting so crazy like that. I’ve never done anything like that before..” You watch him as he continues eating, polishing off the cup in less than a couple minutes. You watch him, trying to read him but you never could. Not like you could Jimin or Hoseok. Taehyung’s face was hard to try and decipher.

“You wanna get changed and stuff?” You ask quietly. Nodding, Taehyung shuts off the kitchen light and moves towards his bedroom while you follow suit. His bedroom was nice, much cleaner than you expected. It had a grey and tan theme to it, knowing he was one to dress in nude colors like that. Or black. Either or really suited him.

Either way, the air in his room changed as he put on some music from his playlist; stuff to calm him down you’re assuming. You pull off off your hoodie, leaving you with the cropped tank you had underneath. You stand idle waiting for him as he changes, pulling his own beige jacket from his frame, following the tight sweater he wore. You try like hell to not stare, but who the hell wouldn’t? He stayed in his nike sweats while the vast expanse of his back was toned, muscles moving under his skin as he picked out a clean hoodie and threw it over his head.

The look was simple, and unintentionally sexy. Your mind flashes to cuddling with him in those clothes, making out with him in those clothes. Hoping the connection would be more vibrant than anything you’ve felt with Jungkook. Unfortunately, you’re not sure where you and him stand, and you’re not sure you want to know yet. You think about asking him as he moves back in the direction of the kitchen, motioning for you to take a seat. Taehyung returns with a damp rag and a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide, laughing weakly.

“This is all I have…”

You shake your head. “Thats okay, dork.. c’mere before the blood gets all crusty.” He sits in the kitchen chair across from you, scooting the wooden legs towards you until your knees are closed in by each of his bigger thighs. You wince as you notice it’s starting to bruise a little yellow, purple rimming the outside of the impact site. You press the rag to his forehead, letting it rest a little. His eyes close slowly, wincing at the feeling of the hydrogen peroxide working against the small gash, but you don’t hold up.

Looking down at his knuckles, you sigh. “They look like they hurt… how did it feel? P-punching him?” The volume of your voice gets softer at the last word, not knowing where the boundaries were on the subject. Taehyung shrugs slowly, looking down at the knuckles that were cracked, bruising forming on the skin. His other fingers rub the area before his hands go limp in his lap.

“Honestly,” he breathes. “I hated every moment of it.”

That was an answer you didn’t expect, considering he went WWE on Jungkook’s ass, but you wanted to hear him out either way.

“He was my best friend, and I hate fighting with him. I’ve known him longer than any of the other bro’s and we got a bond that I can’t match with anyone else…” You can hear some regret in his voice, but you feel there’s something else. “It’s just crazy. I never thought I would’ve ever hit him like that.. Hit anyone like that!” He seems surprised with himself.

A short breath leaves you. “Then why did you?”

“Huh?”

“Why did you attack him like that?

Taehyung shrugs, eyes averting your stare. “I’m not really sure why, but I don’t regret it.” Your stomach drops at the sound of those words. “Jungkook is my best friend, but you never deserved to be treated like that. I hated to fucking see it.” You smile a little bit, remaining silent as you continue to tend to his wounds. Now you’re even more confused on what you guys are. Does that mean he’s been mad over it for a while? Did he wish you had a different boyfriend than Jungkook? Perhaps even Taehyung himself a—

He’s quick to strike up conversation. You stumble a little on your train of thought, laughing as he made fun of Namjoon’s new steering wheel cover that was “a little too fruity”, in Taehyung’s own words. You guys talk smoothly for what feels like hours, about everything and anything. Fruits, types of chicken, even the busted ass alcohol selection at the party you both attended. But not once did he mention the obvious elephant in the room, even if it’s not uncomfortable.

Taehyung tells you a lot about his life.

His mom, recently became sick, and they’re closer than ever. His grades are thriving, and he’s making good money working on cars. It makes you realize how much you don’t know about him. Rather, how much you haven’t been around him. You feel a little guilty, considering he’s been dealing with his mom. You had wanted to rewind and be there for him in ways Jungkook never was. In a way, Taehyung wanted to return the favor. The conversation keeps flowing, the music changing every couple minutes before a deep base line that you recognize moves over the speakers, and you both look up and laugh.

Movements was one of the first bands you had really seen in concert. You begged Jungkook for weeks to go with you, but he was more into rap. Taehyung, offered to go with you and you both had the time of your lives. ‘Deep Red’ was the closing song they preformed, and you remember that night to this day. Jumping around, care-free. Taehyung keeps your gaze in an air-tight lock.

Soft skin, hard stare. Feels wrong, but all’s fair.

I try but I can’t seem to look away and you don’t care. Instead you meet my steady gaze and we go from there.

You watch in astonishment as Taehyung gets up, head banging like a complete idiot. He grabs the salt shaker off the counter, using it as a pretend microphone. You turn to the clock, time almost hitting one in the morning. Damn, we were talking for a while. You, of course, follow his lead and jump around with him in the living room of his apartment. Something about it is nostalgic, reminding you of the actual concert.

Taehyung takes your hands, leading you in circles, the biggest smile you’ve seen on his face in maybe forever. Your expression matches his as well. You feel better with him, something you’ve said maybe a thousand times to yourself. You feel naturally happy, and you’re reaching for more. Desperate for more of this feeling.

Stay up, all night. Real love for the first time.

And I can’t tell if this is all a dream or if I’m really here, but as long as I can feel you I don’t really care.

He has you close to his chest, hands on your waist as you spin in deformed circles in the living room. Cloud nine was an understatement, your smile staying permanent on your face. You’re seeing Taehyung in a whole new light. Nothing else even mattered to you at this moment.

Can we pretend like it’s just you and me?

I wanna act like I can feel something.

You both slow down a little, taut gazes glued together like your life depended on it. You watch your world slowly brighten into more brighter colors as Taehyung brings you closer, your hands on his upper arms. They’re placed weirdly so you move them around his neck. You feel like you’re shaking with excitement. Jungkook long gone in your mind as Taehyung swings you slowly.

He’s hesitant, but his lips just press to your forehead. Taehyung knows he’s testing out the waters. His first spot was your lips, but he felt it was too soon. If you ask him? He was ready, more than ready. An instant connection like this made him lustful to be with you. Not fucking you, or wearing you on his arm like his former friend had done in the past. Taehyung felt overwhelmed with the urge to hold you, play with your hair. Other things he had been wanting to give you for a while now, that Jungkook never could.

He takes a small breath, confidence pooling out into his chest as he closes his eyes and leaps.

And you don’t have to give it back to me, but I can’t promise much of anything

Your body stalls, but you’re kissing him back in seconds. His lips are warm and soft, moving slow as he pulls you flush against his body. You become putty in his hands. Desperation gets the best of you as your hands tangle in the shorter strands of the hair on his neck, stopping your dancing as your feet plant flat on the floor. Taehyung’s ready to end the small kiss, and talk about it awkwardly after but today you were rolling with it.

You catch his lips quickly after he tries to move back, and you’re getting a little distracted now. You couldn’t get enough of the contrast. Jungkook had no idea what chapstick was, and he was always trying to get to the point. You can tell Taehyung was just as timid as you were, hands moving from your waist down a little lower to test the waters. You invite him carefully, pushing back into his hands. Lust washes over your body, like you’ve been waiting for him to touch you for a while.

“Sorry,” he groaned, lips disconnecting yours in a way that made your second heartbeat go crazy. He hadn’t moved away from them, talking against them as he wet his own lips with his tongue. Something you had wanted to taste.

“Why are you sorry?” You question it, pulling away to look at him.

He shrugs, and you sense some guilt. “I don’t know... you guys just broke up and— God I just want you, Y/N. Physically and mentally I want to have you…” You knew you felt the same, watching his eyes closely.

“Then have me… screw Jungkook. He never deserved me like you do,” you hummed, pulling your lip into your teeth as you grab his hands and nudge him back into the table to where he rested on the edge of it. He grabs the back of your thighs to bring you in-between his huge legs, resting there for a while. You end up with a dumb little smile on your face, arms around his neck. Taehyung’s expression seems a little shy, but he’s finding himself moving forward to kiss you again.

It’s more fast paced than before, lips upturned into every movement as he deepened it. Your head titled back, letting it become more lazy and sloppy while he pushed his lips hard agains yours. He was holding everything back; this is something he had dreamt of for a while. A little teen fantasy of stealing you from Jungkook and treating you right.

Your hands moved towards his lower back, running up his shirt to feel his warm skin. His back immediately broke out into tiny goosebumps, but his tongue was moving into your mouth and who were you to object it. You take it in, exhilarated as he took control of the kiss.

Taehyung breathes. “Do you, uh-“

“Yeah,” you whine, feeling his hands getting a grip on your legs to pick you up. You continue kissing him while he brings you to what you assume is his bedroom, feeling the bed bounce as he settled you both down a little rough. You laugh softly, legs wrapping around his hips while you resumed kissing. The blonde above you had his hands moving under your shirt, and you were in no position to protest, top coming over your head and onto the floor.

You had no bra, so you were already exposed in front of him. The soft panting is filling up the room as he runs his hands up your stomach, the rough pads of his fingers making your skin ripple in goosebumps as well. You watch him as he just feels the smooth plane of your skin, no underlying intentions as he trails up your chest to cup the mounds of flesh. He lowers down, kissing the skin gently, and you head starts to spin.

I see in shades of grey, I’m going blind again, but when it comes to you my world is red.

You watch him take care of your skin, noticing how Jungkook never took his time like this. He always wanted to fuck, and rush, and get it over with. Taehyung wanted to preserve the time, take his time and make sure he savored every single moment. Something you had never experienced before.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled into your skin, moving from your chest to your sternum. Your hands tangle in his hair, and you push the soft strands out of his face, watching him as he stares at you through long eyelashes. He was so ethereal, and he knew it too. You felt like you could finally relax.

All the doubts you’ve had about your previous relationship, washed free from your hands. You didn’t have to worry about him cheating on you, or not really loving you. You could tell that he wasn’t going anywhere, and that you could finally relax.

I see in shades of grey, I’m going blind again, but when it comes to you my world is red.

#bts #bts smut #kim taehyung #Kim Taehyung smut #taehyung smut #v smut #Kim Taehyung x reader #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #Min Yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #jeon Jungkook

204 notes · View notes

chlcrine · 3 years

Text

( courtney eaton / demi girl ) LUNDY VICENTE is 22 years old and is a JUNIOR at thales university. SHE is majoring in WOMEN’S STUDIES and is known for being THE JAILBIRD as HER can be RESILIENT and SCHEMING as well as HOTHEADED and AGGRESSIVE. every time i see HER, SHE reminds me of THE DEEP END OF A SWIMMING POOL, TITLEFIGHT LYRICS, SLEEPING ON A FULL SIZED MATTRESS. ( amanda / 23 / she/her / mst )

hey guys its amanda the raven mun. like this to validate me thanks *winks*

NAME: lundy b vicente AGE: 22 BIRTH DATE: november 19th 1998 ZODIAC: sagittarius sun, leo moon SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual / biromantic FINANCIAL CLASS: lower HOMETOWN: kissimmee, florida EDUCATION LEVEL: junior studying women’s studies FACE CLAIM: courtney eaton ADDICTION(S): nicotine DRUG USE: frequent ALCOHOL USE: frequent POSITIVE TRAITS: self-reliant, confident, risk-taking NEGATIVE TRAITS: vulgar, violent, selfish

BACKGROUND - triggers: prostitution, child neglect, incarceration

as she would put it, lundy was born to a crackwhore mom and never knew her dad. the earliest years of her life were certainly happy, allbeit delusionally so. by the age of five the girl had the local streets memorized, running rampant with her friends through parking lots and swimming in motel pools. while her mother used alternative means to earn money and occupied their single bedroom with the company many suitors, young lundy became independent, and aware of the harsh realities of the real world on her own.

before long, cps caught word of the less than ideal living conditions that the child was living in, and got involved. ultimately she ended up in the foster system after a brutal custody battle between her mother and the state.

though she lived in a variety of homes around the state of florida, some good, some not so good, lundy ended up stuck in a home for troubled girls. the system threatened to chew her up and spit her back out, but self-reliance had made her testy around authority figures.

her thirteenth birthday was spent during the first of many bouts in juveinial detention, but she took to the facility well. like a school she reined over, lundy actually found herself getting into trouble just so she could return. the highlights of her teen years mostly consisted of fighting, fucking, and making the other kids in juvy all around just as miserable as she was.

once she turned eighteen, lundy was contacted by her father’s family. he lived in virginia, and offered her a place to stay as she tried to “get back on her feet”, seeing how he himself had done some time and knew the feeling. it didn’t take long for lundy to decide that family life wasn’t for her, so she began applying to colleges in hopes to live on campus.

PERSONALITY - triggers: violence

it should come as no surprise to anyone familiar with lundy that she was kicked out of her most recent housing situation over the summer. the police were called after a neighbor reported a domestic disturbance, only to find that lundy had beaten one of her roommates bloody and blacked out. though she claims she had a reason --- he was creepy! the feds didn’t give much of a shit about that, and there is a pending court case. she is also living with her dad again, working to repay him for her bail fund, and waiting to be contacted further. she most certainly should NOT be indulding in partying, or any reckless sort of behavior, but that goes against her very identity.

when you actually have lundy on your side, she’s a force to be reckoned with. ride or die, type of person, but she struggles to find people who actually wish to become close enough to her for that. at this point, it doesn’t bother her that others find her offputing. her sense of humor is an acquired taste, and she’ll certainly say what’s on her mind, but perhaps that may seem refreshing? to some people? maybe?

lundy is rather loud, just when she speaks, and LOVES digging into other people’s business. she is incredibly impulsive and will always support bad decisions. she’s deliberate, though never planned, and tactless. the type to hurt your feelings on accident AND on purpose, depending on the day. in general, she is silly. a maniac really

RANDOM SHIT

she plays bass. picked it up whens he moved to virginia. she’s just a rock chick!

proud marxist but i don’t recommend bring it up to her. she’s been kicked out of many classes due to this

as far as gender goes, lundy has always felt “female enough” but certainly has a more adrogynous energy about her. wears a lot of baggy clothes and backwards hats. has been called a lesbian since before she can remember, but kind of took on that persona and made her something she’s proud of

sleeps most comfortably in small spaces. prefers her full sized mattress to anything bigger

constantly makes the jacking off motion when other people are talking

has this love you tattoo on her hairline a la her at the time girlfriend and this tattoo on her hand

loves a good video game session (aka not talking to anyone for 72 hours unless it’s through playstation)

loves a good handwritten letter, will even get romantic about it sometimes

likes fucking menthol cigarettes

always leaving the house with her hair wet like girl why???????? also loves to swim

had a gay boyfriend once. the only boyfriend she ever had. it lasted like a week asdfsdf

based on: young aleida ( oitnb ), moonee ( the florida project ), spinelli ( recess ), jayden ( short term 12 ), donna ( that 70s show )

WANTED CONNECTIONS

a band?????? this is so so so up for whatever ideas anyone else has but she’s definitely always wanted to be in a band and has the charisma for it. need anyone else who plays an instrument other than bass or sings

half siblings???????? they would have to be at least half white, because her dad is white.

exes ?? (f/nb) of literally any sort. she was probably a very fleetingly romantic gf. she’d be like here is a love note i made u but also we’re breaking up tomorrow.

someone she’s beat up?????????

honestly i can’t think of anything all that specific anymore my brain always runs out of juice at the fucking end of writing intros like this. i really just want literally any connection dude hit that mf LIKE button

#pyrrhic.intro #here we go boys two or three hours later asdfasdf #no proofread we die like men

7 notes · View notes

lovelyirony · 4 years

Note

OKAY prompt for you: tony stark + scumbag by goody grace ft blink-182

Tony knew that he was not cut out for friends by age seven. People asked him question upon question, took advantage of his homework, and he was left being frustrated.

Perhaps the only piece of advice his father gave him besides “don’t ever wreck one of my cars or I will kill you” was this:

“No one in this world you have really wants to be your genuine friend. And to be frank, you can’t have friends when you have this business.”

So Tony figures out that a.) His dad is an asshole, and b.) Tony’s next-up for competing to take the spot. Except they don’t refer to the position as “asshole.” They usually call you “boss.”

At first, Tony thinks his father is wrong. At least one person has to want to be his friend.

...right?

After age seven, there is a period of time where this is disproved. Ten years, in fact. Person after person tries to befriend him and he lets some of them in. Some of them don’t ask for things right away.

They wait a month. Or two. And for a moment, he really enjoys this time and he wants so badly (too badly) to shove friendship in his father’s face because he’s disproved his father’s claim.

But then they ask. Whether it be for homework help (“Can I please just copy your homework? You’re already so smart, and maybe could you do my physics for me?”

“Hey, could I borrow some money? You have so much of it--”)

And he gets it. So he helps them, but after that he doesn’t offer to hang out because it’s just him paying for everything because he won’t expect them to. He can afford anything.

They brand him as stand-offish and holier-than-thou when he refuses to spend more money on events, when he won’t buy them fake IDs to get into parties or alcohol.

“Why?” They’ll sneer. “Too proud?”

“You’re not my friend,” Tony drops, voice dead calm. “So why would I?”

(Because he wishes that he could just have a friend. Just one fucking friend that doesn’t expect shit and doesn’t ask in that way, and god it sounds privileged but would anyone get that? Would they?)

He’s cold and collected and people say that his gaze is unnerving.

(You have to look through them first before you allow them any sort of anything.)

SHIELD doesn’t even consider him. Howard was...overeager, in a sense. He had a friend in Peggy, or at least something that suggested partnership. He was willing to help with weaponry and communication technology.

Tony Stark shows no promise of that. No one ever gets a read on him and he requests his own room in college. No sense in hoping for a roommate. No one gets in. And that means that nothing about him can come out.

Until Rhodey.

Rhodey goes to MIT and also has no roommate, but mostly due to the fact that sign-ups for their dorm were down. Honestly, he’s fine with that. He can make at least buddies with ROTC and some engineering majors.

But Tony interests him. Because he always shows up a bit of a mess, writes notes on paper and when that runs out (he never brings any sort of notebook), he starts to write on his arms and sometimes his legs if he’s really invested.

People call him eccentric.

“Man, he’s just fucking crazy,” Rhodey says to Jack, one of his friends. Jack is a pretty cool dude, if not for the fact that he’s in a frat and got drunk on a Tuesday at 3:45 p.m. after a chemistry class.

Tony doesn’t say anything. He hears Rhodey, and yeah it kind of hurts that someone is saying he’s crazy, but it’s not the worst thing you could be called.

You could be called “a living disappointment” over a dinner on a random Thursday when a business trip got cancelled and someone doesn’t have good anger management skills.

But that’s getting too specific, isn’t it?

Rhodey is curious about Tony Stark. Not really about business or anything, just how the fuck this guy functions. Because he can hear him get home from somewhere at four a.m., and it’s not the drunken stumblings that Rhodey’s had to deal with so far this semester.

So at four in the morning, Rhodey knocks on the door and barges his way in.

“I wanna know what you’re working on,” he says. “Because I can hear tools and I don’t really mind that, I just wanna know.”

“Um, a robot.”

“What’s it do?”

Tony’s not sure why he indulges this dude. Maybe because it’s four a.m. and at four a.m. you don’t really have to impress the shit out of anybody except for maybe a stray cat depending on the night, and so he lets this guy in.

“This bot is called Dum-E. All he knows how to do is bump into chairs and lie to me.”

“He can lie?”

“Yeah, which is actually pretty impressive considering he was born a week ago.”

“Well then, congrats on becoming a father.” Rhodey says, grinning. “Should we write him up a birth certificate?”

Rhodey is listed as the witness--Tony’s not sure if they need one but Rhodey figures he should be something on it, at least.

Tony doesn’t say he’s a friend. Rhodey doesn’t claim to be. But Rhodey waves to him at the dining center and comes into his room to ask for help on physics and it’s not in the way that it usually is it’s Rhodey poking his head in and asking Tony if he has time and if he can review over the problems.

“I don’t wanna drag you away from anything,” Rhodey says. “I just really don’t get why the hell I keep getting acceleration wrong.”

So they sit down to do homework and Rhodey brings ramen over to share with Tony and it’s just--nice.

The thing about having a pattern is that sometimes, there are outliers. Things that you don’t expect but happen nonetheless because of reasons.

Reasons like Rhodey knows that someone needs a friend.

Reasons like they both laugh at stupid puns and really like watching SNL weekend updates. Reasons like Tony has never once cooked for himself and Rhodey is like “oh my god you are literally the worst let me show you how to do shit because you are useless.”

It’s the fact that they treat each other like human beings. And that’s what matters.

#lovelyirony writes #tony stark #rhodey #iron man #war machine #anyways i refused to make this sad at the end but i ALMOST DID #i almost made it sad

178 notes · View notes

onepdumpsterfire · 4 years

Text

Summary: Usopp moves to the city after a year since his mom died in a way to feel closer to her. There he looks for a roommate and finds none other than Zoro himself. what fate has in store for them is left for a later date lol

Roommates

Usopp . Zoro

It’s been almost a year since my mom died. She’s been sick for a long time, so I knew this was coming for some time now.

Even so, knowing didn’t stop it from hurting just as much.

Since her funeral, all I’ve done is coop myself up in our house. I’d probably turn into a hermit if it weren’t for my neighbor, Kaya. She came around whenever she had the chance.

That was nice of her considering what she has been going through…

But the more she worried about me, the guiltier I felt.

I know that she can't help but take care of people. Hell, It's why she’s been studying pharmaceutics, but I also know she can do so much more with her life. She could be some big-city doctor or researching to cure cancer!

Wouldn’t that be so much cooler than being stuck in a no-name city, too small to even afford more than the one clinic it has?

In any event, that’s only one of the reasons why I’ve decided to move away for a while. I think some time out of this house would do me some good.

The city that I’m moving to isn’t all that big and a bit further than I’d like it to be, but that’s the point of moving, right?

One way or another, I chose this city because my mom fell in love with it. She used to tell me about how, when she was young, she used to travel all over! She’d seen it all. Every tourist attraction and big-name city, but there was something about this city that just took her breath away. She told me that this place managed to calm her need to be constantly moving. This is also where she got pregnant with me then later she moved back to where she was raised and had me.

As much as she loved it there, she wanted me to go out on my own and find a place that would ‘sate my most wild urges and fuel my deepest desires,’ as cheese-ly as she put it.

At first, I thought she was joking.

I thought that she only liked that place because it’s where she met dad… It’s also why I hated this city.

My father was a coward that ran away as soon as my mom got sick. Though, she never blamed him for it. I never got to as her why, though. Years later, I did ask her if I was right. That she only romanticized this place because she fell in love there. However, she told me that he was only part of the reason why she loved this city so much, and that if I didn’t believe her then I should go find the depth of this city for myself.

I debated with myself for the longest time. Whether this was the right choice, or if I was ready to set foot in the place I used to loath so much. But being here now, I feel so much smaller than I thought I was. I’m nowhere near the heart of the city, but the sheer enormity for this place makes it feel like it’s trying to swallow me whole.

Sure, back home we had a lot of open fields and the horizon was always noticeable, but here the buildings towered over everything. It felt like a tsunami that threatened impact but never collided. The horizon was replaced by millions of stars that fell from the sky and sat just out of reach so that if you got too close thy’d turn into someone else’s day. Someone’s life.

There are so many people here that It almost made it feel lonely. Being surrounded by so many lives yet being so far from them. A mirage in a desert, one could call it. It promises life, but the closer you get the more you realize you could never get close enough.

I guess I was too much of a coward to be as alone as I felt when I first stepped foot here, though, I’ll keep telling myself it’s because the apartments here are too pricey and I only managed to land a job as a gas station attendant. Nevertheless now I’m sitting on the first floor of a fully furnished two-bedroom apartment checking a roommate wanted ad I posted earlier this week.

So far there have been only two people who wanted to move around this area, but one ghosted me after a few messages and the other ended up creeping me out so much that I had to report his account! I just hope the last person that answered my ad isn’t as much of a weirdo as the previous two.

They seem to be a bit curt, but I shouldn’t get too picky. Rent for next month is gonna be due soon, and there is barely anyone who wants to live near this area as is!

I’m sure that they’re nicer in person! I shouldn’t worry. It’s just two days.

Two days.

-2 days later. Thursday 2:30 pm -

When I arrive at the coffee shop, I walk straight to the back of the line. It isn’t that long and I’ve got here thirty minutes early, so I should have time for a drink before they get here.

Should I get something for them too? No, that’d be weird, and it would probably get cold by the time they get here.

The person in front of the line leaves and we all step forward.

Shit.

Someone arrives and lines up behind me.

I didn’t ask for their name! I don’t even know if they’re a boy or a girl!

The next person leaves and we take another step forward.

Is it too late to ask? Would it be weird if I did?

Another step forward

What if they’re a girl? Would they feel uncomfortable living with a guy?

“-ir?”

I did put on the ad I was a dude though…

“-cuse me, sir?”

“Huh?” The barista’s voice brings me back to earth. “Oh, sorry!”

“It’s okay!” her chipper voice rung out, “could you repeat your order? I didn’t quite catch it.”

“O-oh, sorry. Sorry. I didn’t mean to talk out loud. I was lost in thought, I guess... haha ...” I looked up to their hanging menu, more so to look away from her than to figure out what I wanted.

After putting in my order I take a seat at the very back.

Ten minutes later my drink was ready and my anxiety was rising again.

What if they don’t come?

Five minutes later and I sent them a message to let them know I’m here.

Maybe I could’ve phrased it better?

That sounded weird…?

God, is that a typo?

five minutes later

They haven’t answered, but that’s okay! It’s only been five minutes. Can’t expect them to be by their phone 24/7 right?

I’ll play some games on my phone to distract myself. Yeah, that’ll be fine. It’s fine.

I take a big gulp from my drink

I downloaded that new game. My hopes aren’t high for it, though. I found it via a random Facebook ad. Hopefully, it’s not one of those scams that say 90% of people can’t pass level five, but it’s only ‘cus no one lasts long enough to get to level five.

Hmmm… it seems plays well. A bit of a lag but the graphics are awesome! The old-style, pixelated art and bright, neon, solid colors give it a very retro vibe. The ads between levels kind of ruin the experience, though.

Guess they gotta make money somehow, right?

I wonder if they’ll go away if I turn off my data and Wi-Fi.

I shouldn’t just in case the person I’m meeting tries to reach me.

Could be fine for a round or two, though, I’d anxiously suffer through all of it.

I shouldn’t just in-

A sudden scraping sound from the chair opposite of me jolts me from my hypnotic state. “Hey,” a green-haired man in front of me mutteres before taking the seat he pulled out.

Taking in his form as he makes himself comfortable, my mind begins to race. Green dyed hair with roots of black hair showing. Fitted, sleeveless Nike shirt and black basketball shorts paired with a white pair of sneakers.

Oh, god. What’s with the green hair? He looks super buffed. Am I about to be mugged? No, that’s stupid. He wouldn’t have sat- in a cafe, really?

I quickly glance down at my phone for the time.

Exactly 3. Is he super punctual? More than likely a fluke, but impressive nonetheless. What if he’s a perfectionist?

My thoughts continue to swarm around my head, buzzing in an insatiable mob until a humming silence washes over me. Like one of those box televisions from back in the day. Not broadcasting anything in particular, stuck on a blue screen, droning on in silence.

The sudden stillness in my thoughts came so abruptly that it almost gave me whiplash. That aside, I need to focus now and answer him.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t ask for your name-” I left my statement open so that he could fill in the blank“-Zoro”

“R-right, Zoro. My name’s Usopp,” I waved my hands like the gesticulation would somehow help my words form into a coherent sentence, “but you probably already knew that from my ad... Hah..” I gave a quick huff before pushing through my awkward inexperience with ‘interviews’. “I was thinking we could talk and get to know each other before I take you to see the apartment.”

“That’s fine by me,” Zoro relaxed further in his seat. “What do you wanna know?”

Right at home, ain’t he.

~Do you smoke? “No”

~Are you a messy person? “I don't have a lot of things other than clothes.”

Doesn't quite answer the question but ill take it.

~Do you have friends over often? “No”

~What do you do for a living? “I’m a bouncer at a bar near here.”

Explains the muscle.

~Can you pay rent on time? “Yes, actually I brought the first month’s with me. Your ad said that split cost between the both of us plus the utilities would be $487 right?” Zoro dug around his pocket before pulling out a folded wad of cash and handing it to me.

“U-uh yeah,” tentatively I reach over to take the money. “Yeah...” I doubt I can find someone else by the end of the month. Zoro’s my safest bet at getting a roommate before next rent's due. He doesn’t seem so bad, I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.

...I guess this means there’s only one more question to ask.

“Do you wanna see the apartment?”

#modernlivingau #one piece #one piece zoro #Pirate Hunter Zoro #roronoa zoro #one piece usopp #god usopp #one piece kaya

7 notes · View notes

emachinescat · 3 years

Text

This is part of an ongoing series of vignettes where Mac is crashing in Loft 4D. This collection of stories is going to eventually be a part of a larger series of crossovers where characters from different fandoms crash at the loft for a short time. (Nick calls them "crashers.") These first few stories take place right after the Sandbox for MacGyver, and a few months before Jess moves in for New Girl. :)

Title: Moments with Mac: The Favor | Series: The Tenants of Loft 4D | Fandoms: MacGyver & New Girl

Summary: Coach receives a call from Jack Dalton, an old friend of his dad’s, with an odd request. Can Jack’s army buddy crash in the loft for a few weeks? Coach can’t refuse - mostly because he’s terrified of Jack.

Characters: Jack Dalton, Coach

Words: 620

TW: None

AO3 Tags: Crossover, Humor, Friendship, Pre-Season/Series 01, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Loft Antics

Full chapter here or on AO3!

When Coach answered his phone on a stormy Monday evening, he was expecting to have to chew out a telemarketer (he didn't recognize the number). Instead, he heard a southern drawl that he barely recognized, as it had been years since he'd last heard it.

"Ernie Tagliaboo," said the voice. "It's been a while."

Coach pulled the phone away from his ear, made a face at it as he tried to remember where he'd heard that voice before. And then it hit him.

"...Jack?"

"Hey, kiddo." Coach could hear the gentle smile in the older man's voice. After he and his family had left Texas years ago, he hadn't expected to see or hear from his dad's old friend again, even though he knew they kept in touch. Such was the life of an army brat. "How're ya doin'?"

Instead of answering Jack's question, Coach informed, "I don't go by Ernie anymore. It's Coach."

Jack chuckled. "Not a fan of your first name, huh? I know someone else just like you." He paused, then his voice turned serious. "He's actually why I'm calling you."

Coach racked his brain for why on earth his dad's old friend would be calling him about some random person Coach didn't even know.

Jack continued, so thankfully Coach didn't have to come up with something to say. "I was talking to your old man just the other day, and he mentioned you're in L.A."

Quite uncomfortable at this point, Coach just said, "Yep." He popped the "p" at the end.

"So listen, man, I normally wouldn't ask this, but I'm kinda in a tight spot. I just finished a tour in Afghanistan and I'm heading back to L.A. with a buddy of mine I met over there - he lives in L.A. too - and I've been approached with a job offer for us, but the interview process is intense, and I'll be stuck at the, uh, office for a few weeks."

Coach made a face. "A two-week interview?"

"Uh, yeah. Sort of. It's a job at a think tank, so I think they want to keep things confiden-"

Coach couldn't help it. He laughed. Loudly.

"Ha, ha," said Jack flatly. "Anyway, my army buddy, he's had a rough tour. I mean, we both have. And his roommate chose the exact worst time to be out of town for some kind of film conference or whatever. I really don't want to leave the kid alone for two weeks after just getting back home. I found out you were in the area, and I did background checks on you and your roommates-"

"You background checked us?"

"I'm thorough," was all Coach got in explanation. "Anyway, even though one of them has the lowest credit score I've ever seen and the other one is married to his job, they seem like good enough people. So what do you say?"

Coach blinked. "To what?"

"Letting my buddy crash with you until I get done tying up loose ends with this job, or his roommate comes back. Whichever comes first."

Coach's first instinct was to say no. Coach didn't do things for people out of the kindness of his heart, certainly not things that might put him out in any way. And the only house guests he and the guys entertained were the ones who just stayed the one night. Not random strangers who just got out of the army. Certainly not dudes.

But then he remembered that Jack was in the army. His dad had actually said he'd been a Delta. Those guys were huge, and terrifying. And Jack probably knew seventeen, maybe even eighteen ways to kill him.

Voice two octaves higher than normal, Coach agreed, "Sure, can't wait."

#new girl #macgyver 2016 #jack dalton #new girl coach #crossover #fanfiction #humor #friendship #pre-series #for both shows #loft antics #so it begins #fic #fanfic #vignette #short #emcatwrites

1 note · View note

lovelylogans · 5 years

Text

robbers rejoicing

Hallowe’en provided an opportunity for real strenuous fun. No real damage was done except to the temper of some who had to hunt for wagon wheels, gates, wagons, barrels, etc., much of which decorated the front street. The youthful tormentors were at back door and front demanding edible plunder by the word “trick or treat” to which the inmates gladly responded and sent the robbers away rejoicing.

-blackie, alberta, the earliest known use of the term “trick or treat” in print

ao3 | read my other fics | coffee?

warnings: college tomfoolery (drunk people, partial nudity) alcohol

pairings: platonic lamp

words: 1,104

notes: so, this is for the 13 days of halloween prompt over at @sanderssidescelebrations! today’s prompt is trick or treat!

“Look, pumpkin Pat-ch, it’s a nice gesture and everything,” Roman said. “But I really don’t think anyone is going to show up to trick or treat here.”

Patton gives Roman a fittingly parental chiding look. “Well, isn’t it better to be safe than sorry?”

“We live in an apartment that is predominantly, if not entirely, populated by college students,” Logan said patiently. “In terms of holidays, more people go drinking on Halloween than on New Year’s Eve, especially within our age bracket.”

“Drunk college kids like candy, too,” Patton pointed out, and, well. None of them could really argue with that.

Virgil did, however, make sure that Patton has the door to the house cracked just so slightly open so that they’d be able to hear him if he called for help. Just in case. Drunk people weren’t really known for their calm, polite demeanors.

So Virgil and Roman sat on the couch and watch The Nightmare Before Christmas as Logan read Frankenstein, and they kept an ear out for Patton on the porch, singing and humming absently to himself.

It didn’t take very long for the first “oh shit, you’re giving out candy?” to float indelicately from the porch.

“Well, you gotta say trick or treat, but yeah!” Patton said back.

“Oh, right, yeah—trick or treat?”

“Here ya go!”

“Whoa, thanks, man—just one, or—“

“You can take a whole handful, if you want, I’ve got plenty.”

“Fuckin’ siiiiiick, dude, thanks!”

“No problem—happy Halloween! Stay hydrated, be safe, make good choices!”

Roman snorted, and Virgil elbowed him in the side.

“What?” Roman said. “He’s dad-ing random strangers off the street!”

“BRO!” floated in even more indelicately from the street. “BRO, HE’S GIVING OUT CANDY! HE’S GOT REESE’S, BRO!”

Virgil’s the one who snorts, this time, as Logan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly as another voice shouted “DUDE, FOR REAL?!”

The continuous pour of noise after that is nowhere near as gentle and familiar as Patton singing quietly to himself.

There was a group of friends who probably live in the apartment complex coming back from a liquor store trip who exclaim over the free candy.

There was a group of fraternity brothers going out for a night on the town.

One of their neighbors was apparently having a party, and each of their guests started making a detour to pick up some free candy to get the night started.

There’s some sorority sisters, one of whom had a last-minute wardrobe malfunction that Patton apparently helped stitch up. Virgil hadn’t even known that Patton could sew.

Virgil’s still hearing the group of sorority girls giggle and squeal when his phone buzzes.

Hey, kiddo! Could you or Roman bring out some more candy? It’s in the cupboard above the microwave.

Virgil showed Roman the screen. Roman held up his hands immediately, primed for rock-paper-scissors.

Virgil lost.

So Virgil goes to get a bag of candy—apparently, Patton bought five—and stepped hesitantly onto the porch, ready to toss the bag and run if it got too awkward.

He ended up freezing awkwardly in the middle of the doorway.

So, they’ve got a rocking chair on the porch. That was where Virgil last saw Patton sitting.

Now, a woman in what Virgil was pretty sure was a black cat costume was sitting there instead, parsing through Patton’s curls with her fingers, eyes narrowed in focus, as Patton did something similar with a woman in a... you know what, Virgil had no idea what she was supposed to be, but she had her eyes mostly shut as Patton braided her hair back. She was gesticulating wildly with the mini-bottle of wine she’s got clutched in an iron grip.

“An’s’like,” she slurred, “I deserve better, you know?!”

“You do,” Patton said loyally. “You so do, sugar.”

“He’s an asshat,” the woman in the cat costume said sagely, then, “What shampoo do you use? It smells so nice.”

“Thanks!” Patton said. “It’s formulated for curls. But, I mean,” he continued to the girl on the ground, “You really gotta think about what’s best for you, right? Breakups hurt, trust me, I’ve been there, but you’ve gotta put you first, not him. You’ve been putting in a hundred and ten percent, and it sounds like he hasn’t been treating you with the respect and care you deserve.”

“He didn’evn show up to our fun’raiser,” she said. “We were helpin’ kids with cancer and shit, and he skipped’t to go fuckin’ axe throwing. I mean, who does that?!”

“Um,” Virgil said awkwardly from where he’s caught between the door and the doorframe.

“Oh, hey, Virgil!” Patton said brightly, but not moving from where’s been caught in the braiding-hair-train. “Ladies, this is Virgil, he’s my roommate. Virgil, this is Olivia, and this is Brittany—it is Brittany, right?”

“Y’can call me Brit,” the drunker girl murmured. “You’re cool.”

“Aw, thanks!” Patton said. “And thanks for the candy, Virgil—Brit, I’m pretty sure this pack has got Crunch bars, you said those were your favorite, right?”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Brit said, and Patton carefully tied back the braid before he reached for the bag, digging out some mini Crunch bars for Brit to snatch. Brit does, and then Brit squinted up at him in the midst of gnawing absently at one of her chocolate bars.

“D’you want some?”

“I,” Virgil said. “Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Um. That’s—“

“You seem kinda emo,” Brit said. “Chocolate would help. And, like, clothes that actually fit you.”

Virgil could hear Roman cackling in the living room.

“Come on, we’re having girl talk,” Olivia said brightly. “After we convince Brit to dump Brett—”

“Your boyfriend’s name is Brett?” Patton asked, and Brit sighed.

“The alliteration was half the reason we got together.”

“—I could totally give you advice on how to get discounted eyeshadow, not the drugstore stuff I can tell you’re using.”

Virgil felt unaccountably stung. His three-dollar mini-palette that he tended to pick up while he was in the pharmacy waiting for his anxiety medication had served him well over the years, thank you.

But... well....

“Plus, some that’s a bit more pigmented than that, if you’re gonna go for the emo look you gotta go for the emo look, you know?”

Virgil hesitated, and Patton grinned up at him.

“You can help me pass out candy for trick-or-treaters, too,” Patton said. “I’ll give you some of the extra I’ve got stashed away as thanks.”

Virgil sighed.

“All right,” Virgil said, and plonked himself down onto their patio floor, helping himself to a handful of random chocolate candies. “Fuck it. Sure. Teach me all the secrets of eyeshadow.”

#my post #text #my fic #sanders sides spooky month 2019 #this is! less angsty! than yesterday!#i went a bit over my personal limit i set myself but 100 words isn't TOO bad

147 notes · View notes

bomberqueen17 · 4 years

Text

did he just say ‘making fuck’??

Sorry, I’ve realized that when these replying-to-replies posts crosspost to DW they’re basically incomprehensible, but if I try to add any formatting to make it obvious when I’m quoting a reply and when I’m actually replying to it, the whole thing just truncates. So... apologies, my DW lovelies, if you click through you can see I’ve got it all carefully blockquoted!

sugarspiceandcursewords replied to your post “replying to replies witcher playthrus edition”

Oh shit I have not heard or even thought about “Ber-SER-KER!!” in years and now I’m cackling. “Did he just say ‘making fuck’?”

God that movie is so good. I rented it from the indie video store that also had all the anime, and a bunch of friends lay on my bed with me and watched it on my computer, including I think both DF and my Dude before he was my Dude and was visiting for a weekend. It’s a weird lil memory to have! oh college. those were. such weird days. I can’t imagine now trying to cram eight or nine full adults into a double bed and having it not be weird, but that was just sort of how we lived once we didn’t own a TV anymore. (Which means it’d’ve been senior year, so, 2001, in the winter, which yeah, that’s when Dude came to visit his former roommate who was then my roommate who is now, fun fact, an NCAA fencing coach at a large university, and that’s when I met Dude.)

nogling replied to your post “now it’s time for that leisurely swim in the sewer outlet”

I cannot tell you how many times Geralt fell to his death off the top of that stupid, stupid lighthouse before I said fuck it and used a god-mode mod to make him immune to falling damage.

ohhhh hey. (WAIT does that mean you HAVE to fight the wyvern from the tower top???? Oh my god that was ridiculous.) You know, I have no idea how mods work but what I thought was really funny was that, I don’t remember what I’d Googled, but I found a predictable thing about a mod someone had made so Geralt would be Super Shredded, but then I immediately found another mod someone had made to give Geralt a more realistic “dad bod”, and I was like, you’re all right, modding community, I don’t understand you at all but you’re all right.

stele3 replied to your post “now it’s time for that leisurely swim in the sewer outlet”

There’s a barber on the right-hand side of Novigrad who is very drunk all the time and if you go to him for a haircut the first time he gives you something you did NOT ask for. You can also give Geralt short hair, a mustache, and a

soul patch. (Accidentally clicked Reply too soon.) it is a very Cursed Look and I recommend you get it at least once.

shit I gotta talk DF into Drunk Barber. Probably funnier if I don’t tell him why first. We’ll see if I’m up to the challenge.

I dunno I’m hard-pressed to think of a more Cursed Look than the muttonchops-and-mullet look DF originally went with.

brotherhoodoftheslice replied to your post “now it’s time for that leisurely swim in the sewer outlet”

Hahaha! The fork-throwing line is straight from a short story, except the problem there wasn't that no one could see him hit the rat, but rather how unnerving it was that he could 1. Obviously see in the dark, and 2. Throw random cutlery that hard and accurately. Geralt: Check this out :D Humans: O_____O Geralt: :C

wait you mean people aren’t super impressed with your freaky mutant powers??? Oh Geralt :( :( :( Poor baby just wants friends and the whole time he was growing up showing off your Freaky Mutant Powers was how you socialized, how’s he to know that’s not something outsiders are going to find awesome???

Them not being able to see that he’d succeeded is much funnier, though, I get it.

akilah12902 replied to your post “now it’s time for that leisurely swim in the sewer outlet”

Radovid isn't in charge of Novigrad, but he likes and supports the church of the Eternal Fire, so they (who are doing the mage burnings) have free reign anywhere in places ruled by him. And the church is centered in Novigrad. also, sorry, do go ahead and do Novigrad dreaming; there's a point where the quests diverge, and you get a Main Quest to try and find Dandelion, you wanna do all that first (like uh, if you were wondering where the point of no return was)

ALSO: Geralt! He's just so happy to talk to a friend!

Gotcha. And poor bb. He’s so lonesome, he’s just so lonesome.

Oh my gosh now I kind of want to mash him up with the puppeteers in Martha Wells’ Wheel of the Infinite-- her Badass Solo Character (who is a grandmotherly devil-priestess) has interrupted her Solo Sulking Journey Across The Wilds by falling in with a troupe of itinerant puppeteers and it’s fantastic because the whole plot winds up set in motion because she has to go forage for an herb to make a medicine for a sick toddler and in the process rescues the Hot Young Barbarian Swordsman In Distress from certain death, and she’s this utterly terrifying badass and all the itinerant puppeteers love her and now there’s this barbarian swordsman stalking them in order to repay the life debt he owes her (and occasionally inappropriately bathing in temple pools and such because as a barbarian he doesn’t know better), and it’s just such a good first chapter to a novel. I wish more people had read that book, doing a rewrite of parts of it with Geralt as Maskele and Jaskier as the main puppeteer guy would be so entertainingly rewarding. But nobody’s read that book, which is a fucking tragedy and entirely a failure of marketing. (The first edition made the dark-skinned protagonist have green skin because alien is apparently more marketable than Black, and the second edition flipped the cover so the barbarian swordsman, who is white, was on the front cover and the protagonist was on the back. Sigh.)

mikkeneko replied to your post “replying to replies witcher playthrus edition”

I plan to play the game as soon as I have enough free time so I appreciate these posts!

Oh good! I hope this is in any way useful. There are like, way more comprehensive walkthrough strategies available of course, and even great videos that give you a wonderful idea of what to expect, but I figured-- well, this is how I’m getting entertainment and if I write it down it’s even more entertaining, y’know? I’m going for atmosphere more than accuracy though so like, don’t necessarily take my word at 100%, my notes aren’t all that careful.

akilah12902 replied to your post “replying to replies witcher playthrus edition”

re: the eyes, that may just be the cutscene or something? I recall the full black eyes the one time I wound up with a ton of toxicity

It could just be you gotta hit a particular percentage. and DF hasn’t devoted any skill points to increasing how much toxicity he can take; I think during the convo the lil 💀 slider bar was a bit over halfway full but not, like, super close to the top, and I don’t think he’s set it up to take any more than baseline. His health bar was a funny color too.

#sugarspiceandcursewords #nogling #stele3 #brotherhoodoftheslice #akilah12902 #mikkeneko #the witcher 3

7 notes · View notes

becasbelt · 4 years

Link

Chapters: 1/12 Fandom: Pitch Perfect (Movies) Rating: T Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell Characters: Beca Mitchell, Chloe Beale, Dr. Mitchell (Pitch Perfect), Beca Mitchell's Mother, Aubrey Posen, Jesse Swanson Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, skateboarder!beca, Romance, Angst

Summary:

Beca’s rough past has taught her to despise music, but when a bubbly ginger recruits her to join the Barden Bellas, she will be forced to come face to face with some harsh memories that she’s spent years trying to forget. And maybe – just maybe – she will learn to love music (and possibly something else) once again.

A retelling of Pitch Perfect in which Beca hates music, Chloe loves a cappella, and somewhere along the way they fall in love.

* * *

Beca opens her eyes as she feels the cab come to a stop. She lifts her head from its slumped position and looks out the window of the vehicle, squinting in distaste at what she sees.

It wasn’t Beca’s plan to go to college. She wasn’t one of those teenagers that fantasized about living in a dorm, earning their degree, and meeting some cute boy to have babies with. That just wasn’t Beca.

Her father, however, had different plans for her. As soon as Dr. Mitchell learned that his only child had no plans of pursuing higher education, he’d thrown a fit. Well, it was a very grown-up, professional fit, Beca would give him that, but a fit nonetheless.

At least, that’s what Beca told herself to make herself feel better about this whole situation.

So as Beca looked out the cab window at all the bright-eyed freshman running around Barden University’s campus, it was safe to say that she was less than thrilled to be there.

The cab driver unbuckles his seatbelt and starts to get out of the car, so Beca hurries to do the same. She makes her way to the trunk of the car, which the driver pops with a press of a button on his keys. A nearby housing attendant immediately rushes over to help unload her stuff. He reaches for the skateboard resting on top of all Beca’s luggage, but Beca holds out a hand to stop him.

“I got it,” she says, then pulls the board out of the trunk.

The dude just shrugs before beginning to unload the rest of her stuff.

Beca holds her board loosely by the truck and takes a moment to look around the campus before a perky blonde girl comes rushing over to her.

“Hi there! Welcome to Barden University,” she greets chirpily. “What dorm?”

Beca fights to urge to snicker at the excitement in her voice. “Uh, Baker Hall, I think,” she answers.

“Okay,” blondie says, turning around to point in the opposite direction. “So what you’re gonna do is you’re gonna go down this way, then you’re gonna take a right…”

The girl continues on with her directions and Beca quickly loses interest, glancing off to the side. A car pulls up beside her with the back windows rolled down. The guy singing along to the radio in the back seat notices Beca looking and props himself up to see her better. “Don’t you cry no more, no!” He points at Beca and starts air guitaring along with the music.

Beca watches him, unimpressed. He raises his eyebrows and grins at her, clearly impressed with his own skills. Beca humors him with an amused look before his car drives away.

Blondie is still talking, and Beca focuses on her again when she holds out a map towards Beca. “Your campus map,” she’s saying, “and your official BU rape whistle. Don’t blow it unless it’s actually happening,” Blondie advises seriously.

Beca ignores the map but takes the whistle from her hands and places it between her teeth without breaking eye contact. The girl lets out a small “hm” as Beca side-eyes her and walks away.

* * *

After Beca’s met her psychotic roommate, she decides to procrastinate the unpacking process and flops down on her unmade bed to scroll aimlessly through social media.

A few of her friends from high school had made posts about her leaving, most of them teasing her in some way. The majority of her friends were still all together in Seattle, opting not to go to college, so she was really one of the only ones that had had to say goodbye to everyone. Beca was envious of them.

Soft music starts playing from the other side of the room, some generic pop ballad that she’s vaguely heard playing on the radio before. She ignores it for the time being, focusing instead on commenting on her friend Derek’s photo of her on Instagram.

A few more minutes pass by with the songs changing every so often before Beca feels a headache coming on. She turns her head to glare at her roommate.

“If you’re going to play music, can you at least use headphones?” she asks irritably.

The other girl turns towards her and the two of them engage in a brief glaring war before Kimmy Jin reaches behind her and presses the space bar on her laptop. The room fills with silence once more.

Beca flashes a sarcastic smile in fake gratitude and turns her attention back on her phone. She’s watching a silent video of one of her friends doing a kickflip off a rail when there’s a knock on the door.

“Campus police, hide your wine coolers,” a muffled voice says from the other side. Beca glances up from her phone as the door opens and her dad’s head pokes in. He laughs and Beca rolls her eyes. “Just your old man, making a funny,” he says, stepping fully into the room.

Beca looks back down at her phone. “Chris Rock, everybody,” she mutters sarcastically.

Her dad ignores her, focusing instead on Kimmy Jin. “Hey, uh, you must be Beca’s roommate,” he starts awkwardly. “I’m Dr. Mitchell, Beca’s dad. I teach comparative literature here.”

Beca watches the exchange from her bed with slight amusement. When all he gets is an icy stare in return, her dad turns back to Beca. The humor immediately drops from her face.

“So, when did you get here? How did you get here?” he questions.

Beca stands up from the bed and busies herself with taking random things out of her bags, placing them on the desk. “Took a cab. Didn’t want to inconvenience you and Sheila,” she replies breezily. “How is the Step-Monster?” Beca adds as an afterthought.

Her dad scoffs. “She’s fine, actually. She’s actually in Vegas at a conference for-”

“Oh, I don’t actually care,” Beca interrupts, turning towards him. “I just wanted to say Step-Monster.”

He sighs. “So have you been down to the quad yet?” he asks, trying desperately to salvage this interaction. “In the summer the students like to lay around in the grass and-”

“I don’t want to lay around in the grass, Dad,” Beca cuts him off again. “I want go back to Seattle and start looking for a job, not take classes and waste my time here.”

Her dad rolls her eyes. “Oh, so you mean you want to goof around with those druggie skateboarders you spend all your time with and work at a McDonald’s for the rest of your life?” Beca scoffs and turns away to pull things out of her bag again. “Face it, Beca. You don’t know what you want to do with your life.”

“I know what I don’t want to do,” Beca mumbles under breath.

“We’ve been over this before. College is the best way to find some direction in your life, Beca,” her dad lectures. “So before you go try to ruin your life, you’re going to get a college education. For free, I might add.”

Before Beca can come up with a sarcastic reply, Kimmy Jin turns in her chair. “I’m going to the activities fair,” she deadpans and stands up to leave.

Beca seizes the chance to escape. “Me too,” she quickly says, following Kimmy Jin to the door. “I’m going to the activities fair with my super good friend Kimmy Jin.”

She thinks that her dad might protest, but by the time he starts she’s already half way down the hallway.

* * *

Beca knows Kimmy Jin was just at her side. They walked down to the quad together, albeit in silence, but they were definitely together. The only problem now is that Beca can’t find the damn girl.

She takes some time searching the crowd for her frightening roommate, and spots her over by the Asian Student Union booth. Kimmy Jin is smiling, and seems to have completely forgotten about Beca.

Huffing out a breath, Beca rolls her eyes and begins to wander aimlessly among the booths. She lazily looks to read signs and posters advertising various on-campus groups, but doesn’t take time to consider anything. Nothing here was of interest to her, and she was planning on getting away from Barden University as soon as possible, so there was no point in actually paying attention to anything going on around her.

She was away from her dad, and that was the important thing.

Still, there were a few eye-catching booths here and there. Beca spotted a DJ stand, and upon further observation discovered it was actually for Deaf Jews. There were a bunch of people running around in circles, though Beca didn’t know if that was an organization or just people doing it for fun. All around, Beca was pretty unimpressed.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, Beca finally sees something worthwhile. There was a simple booth near the end of the line with the words “Barden Skate Shop” at display. Beca saw a bored looking blonde dude sitting behind the table handing out fliers and immediately begins to make her way over.

Before she can get very far, a white piece of paper appears under her nose and a voice cuts through the noise around her.

“Hi! Any interest in joining our a cappella group?”

Beca stops short and looks down at the paper before hesitantly taking it and turning to face the girl who stopped her. The girl has wavy ginger hair and the bluest eyes Beca has ever seen. There’s a tall blonde standing next to her who seems like she’s trying to force a smile onto her face.

Turning her eyes back towards the paper in her hands, Beca takes a moment to actually see what’s on it. It’s very amateur-looking, with cut out pictures of girls singing glued over blue shapes and hand drawn music notes decorating the page. The name Barden Bellas is written elegantly at the top.

“Oh, right,” Beca says, holding back a laugh as she looks back at the two girls. “This is like, a thing now.”

“Oh, totes,” the ginger says seriously, nodding her head. “We sing covers of songs but we do it without any instruments,” she goes on to explain. “It’s all from our mouths.”

Beca can’t help the small “yikes” that slips out of her own mouth at the words. She sees the blonde girl’s smile become a little more strained.

Seemingly undeterred, the redhead continues on. “There are four groups on campus. The Bellas,” she says, gesturing between herself and her companion. “That’s us; we’re the tits.”

She goes on to name all the other groups and Beca zones out, chancing a glance over at the Skate Shop booth. The one guy sitting at it doesn’t seem like he’s going anywhere anytime soon, but Beca still wished that she could get out of this conversation to go check it out.

Two hums from in front of her bring her attention back on the a cappella girls. “So, are you interested?” ginger asks.

Beca fights the instinct to roll her eyes and tries for a smile instead. She’ll let them down fast and easy so that she can get the hell out of there.

“Sorry, it’s just… it’s pretty lame.”

Or she’ll go with that. That’s cool, too.

Ginger’s bright smile slides off her face and she looks downward. The blonde, who’s been silent so far, looks like she’s been struck. “Aca-scuse me?” she says indignantly, anger flashing in her eyes. “Synchronized lady dancing to a Mariah Carey chart-topper is not lame.”

Beca stares at the girl in confusion, wondering how she didn’t think the words coming out of her mouth were, in fact, lame.

“We sing all over the world and compete in national competitions,” the redhead tries again. Beca’s eyes flicker to hers.

“On purpose?” Beca asks before she can stop herself.

“We played the Cobb Energy Performing Arts Center, you bitch,” the blonde says sweetly, an over polite smile on her face and murder in her eyes.

Beca raises her eyebrows and fights off a grin, suddenly very impressed with the tall blonde. Her eyes switch back over to ginger as she speaks again.

“What Aubrey means to say,” the ginger cuts in, glancing at her friend, “is that we are a close-knit, talented group of ladies who’s dream is to return to the national finals at Lincoln Center this year.” Beca glances to the side exasperatedly, suddenly very tired of this interaction. When she looks back, sincere blue eyes are locked onto her own. “Help us turn our dreams into a reality?” the girl asks, hesitance in her voice and a small smile playing at the edge of her lips.

Beca looks at her for a moment before deciding to show them some mercy and not reply with any more biting comments. “Sorry, I don’t even sing, and I’m not really that big into music in general, but it was really nice to meet you guys.”

She begins to walk away and spares one last glance at the ginger’s crestfallen expression before heading in the direction of the skating booth, determined to not let the interaction get in the way of what she wants to do.

It was just a cappella. It was just music.

And Beca had promised herself that she would never let herself get sucked into music again.

#fanfic #pitch perfect #bechloe #beca mitchell #let's see how this goes folks

26 notes · View notes

theshinsun · 4 years

Note

Hello again! Here I am sending more 😂 Do you mind doing character thing with Kasamatsu, Imayoshi, Wakamatsu and Otsubo? If it's too much, can you do with the first three? Thank you 💕

Hello again! ^^ (So sorry for the delay I was half done and then I got hit with homework and classes and didn’t have much time to do more analyses, but they’re done for the week now! I’m free!)

I don’t mind at all! But if it’s alright with you, I probably will just do those first three, not just because it’ll be ridiculously long otherwise, but because I don’t really? think I have any strong specific feelings for Otsubo? Idk why, I like him I just didn’t connect that much with him I don’t think... but I’ll gladly talk about the others!

Kasamatsu

How I feel about this character

GOOD SENPAI. I love this guy so much and wish he got to interact with more of the cast, I really vibe with his character design (his eyes are just... damn, also SOCKS), and I love the relationship he has with his team. He’s ruthless but obviously cares about all of them working together well, and is just looking for the respect he’s due as captain. Boy puts up with so much bullshit from his team of chaotic flaky weirdos, someone needs to cut him a break.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Kise (KiKasa ftw, the character development Kise goes through because of Kasamatsu is excellent, and almost instantaneous after he joins the team [“I liked being Kise of Kaijo”]. it’s really easy to interpret his behavior toward Kasamatsu as a crush; there’s no denying they’ve got chemistry and work well together... and even tho Kise drives his senpai nuts, they obviously both care about each other a lot)

Aomine (I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. They have one [1] interaction in canon, but that one interaction sold it for me. Aomine showing deference to someone and calling them “senpai”, helping him up after he got knocked down which seems... pretty unusual for him at the time, I’m so down for these two being in a relationship, it’s such a different dynamic than I usually see with pairings featuring Aomine, and there seems to be some legit respect to build off of there)

Imayoshi (I blame Lysapadin’s fic The Long Game for this, the way these two play off each other there and also canonically is... hilarious, the flirting, the Banter, please give me more quality captain ships I have a need)

Hyuuga (MORE QUALITY CAPTAIN SHIPS. I talked about them a little in my list for Hyuuga, but I just love the idea of both of these tough, exasperated captains getting to be vulnerable with each other)

and this one is a crossover but

Oikawa Tooru (maybe because he reminds me so much of Kise, and Kasamatsu so much like Iwaizumi, I feel like they’d have a similar dynamic, but it’d be interesting to see how, unlike Kise, a hardworking somewhat self-destructive person and a fellow third-year like Oikawa would get on with this guy.)

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Hmmm.... I’m gonna have to say Imayoshi again, even tho they work together as a couple too. The way they interact is so good, whether it’s platonic or not, and I’d love to see more one-on-one interaction with them. It could just be because the way Lysapadin handles their respective personalities in multiple fics is so perfect, but if they’re not romantically involved I’d at least like to see them as snarky semi-begrudging basketball buddies.

My unpopular opinion about this character

I don’t know? If I have one? Mostly bc I don’t really know what the fandom itself thinks about Kasamatsu, he didn’t get a lot of press even in KNB’s heyday. A random opinion/hc of him tho is he seems to be a bit of a pessimist. Whenever he’s commentating he’s just talking about how the team’s gonna lose, and even before his own game he seemed to just be thinking about how he lost before. Idk what else to give ya, just something I observed that I don’t really see talked about or portrayed for this guy.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

*deep inhale* MOOORE SCREEEENTIME. And not just as a commentator/attachment to Kaijo where Kise hogs the spotlight, give this guy some time to interact with other characters and flesh him out some more please! I know I’m a broken record but that’s the only thing I can think of to improve him.

Imayoshi

How I feel about this character

I didn’t used to have much opinion of this guy tbh, when I was new to KNB… but NOW, damn, I love him every time he appears. He’s hilarious, I love how sassy and clever he is, I love that he has an accent (tho it’s only pointed out in the manga), I love that he gets to have little tidbits, like that he’s bad at drawing but good at mind-reading, and how he wears slippers in a school environment and just goes around teasing everyone, whether they’re teammates or opponents. Love this guy. I love how extra he is and I’m living every time he’s on screen.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Aomine (ok I talked about this quite a bit already in my Aomine rant analysis, and I mostly blame Lysapadin’s A Firm Hand series, but I just can’t get enough of the idea of these two together… [also this comic ] Imayoshi taking Aomine in hand and knowing how to handle him when no one else does, and gradually warming up to him when he stops playing tough and finally shows his soft side. good shit)

Momoi (also probably bc of A Firm Hand, but I could see these two having a very interesting relationship. They’re both extremely smart, and good at understanding people, and I really like the idea of Imayoshi taking Momoi under his wing so she doesn’t have to suffer in silence and handle everything by herself. I feel like they’d be surprisingly sweet to each other, but lesbehonest, also a potentially terrifying power couple that I almost never see done)

Kasamatsu (again, just like above, a unique dynamic and a lovely rarepair that doesn’t get talked about enough. they didn’t get nearly enough time to play off each other in canon but what we did see was damn good)

Hanamiya (ok so… I’m not immune to this ship. I’ve seen some art, a couple fics, and it doesn’t seem to be much of a thing anymore, but still, why the hell not. they’ve got history, they’re both smart slightly evil [or very evil] shits, and they’d be such a disaster of a couple that’s why I love them)

My non-romantic OTP for this character

If not Kasamatsu, then probably Susa. They only got a little time to bond in canon, but I do love their dynamic and how chill they seem to be with each other. They remind me of a team mom/dad duo (tho I couldn’t tell you which was which lol). I could probably be talked into shipping them romantically, but I also just like the way they get along as friends and teammates.

My unpopular opinion about this character

This is more an argument I keep having with my sister… but I actually, genuinely like this guy’s design. She thinks he looks creepy and too evil and doesn’t like that his eyes are drawn closed, but esp in the manga, he looks really polished and I like that you can tell when he gets serious by whether you can see his eyes open. (or as I say to my roommate “oh shit he’s got eyes they’re in trouble”)

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I wish we got to see more of him just hanging with his team. Idk maybe I’m biased, but I feel like Touou in particular doesn’t get that much time devoted to, like, practice and normal everyday shit (maybe bc we got to see Kaijo twice and Shuutoku got a whole training camp plus some, but all we get of them is the hot springs scene and a very short scene at the beginning and end of the show imeanwhat) I would’ve liked to get to know this guy better and see more of how he runs his very strange individualized team, but that could just be me.

Wakamatsu

How I feel about this character

My dude puts up with so much shit. I mean the first we see of him he’s getting kneed in the stomach by a certain dickish first-year, and he just always seems… so done with what’s going on around him. When he’s not yelling about it, which… mood, tbh. He’s relegated to little more than a background character in the anime, and only gets a liiiittle more development in the manga (as well as lots of really good faces), but tbh I’d love to see more of him. I’d love to know what he’s like as a captain and see more of how he gets along with the team; he’s the kind of hotheaded noisy player they make into the protagonist of other shows and I want to know more about him.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Momoi (k a couple of my friends @spaztictwitch and @hadenxcharm actually sold me on this one. It’s a really really rare pair, but now I can’t stop thinking about it and I really like the possibilities of them as a couple.)

Aomine (again I talked a little bit about this in my Aomine essay, but I’m a sucker for this kind of ship… the love/hate dynamic, I mean. that doesn’t get old does it. and yet I don’t think I’ve ever seen content for these guys together, maybe I should take it on myself)

Sakurai (hot-tempered senpai/captain and anxious apologetic mushroom, sign me tf up these two would be Hilarious as a pairing, oh my god. I love it)

Kiyoshi (k listen. LISTEN. yes all I’ve got is the fact that they’re both centers and they only interact, like, twice, but the idea popped into my head and I think I could actually totally see it. any takers?)

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Imayoshi. I don’t know if I’d ship them as a romantic pair (tho like with most things, if someone made a good case for them I’d consider it), but I do like their canonical interactions, like Imayoshi explaining the exceptions made for prodigies in sports (“do you know the golfer Tiger Woods? How about Shaq?”), and passing the proverbial hat to him when he retires as captain (“no worries, you’ll do fine!” like he’s reassuring a new parent or smth lmao). They’re good teammates even if Touou is not really about teamwork, and I like the mutual respect in how they seem to get along.

My unpopular opinion about this character

Not just a one-note guy who yells all the time. I mean, yes, he does yell and he’s got a short temper, but so does Kagami and people don’t portray him as a guy with only one emotion and that emotion is Anger. I mean… usually they don’t. Idk maybe it’s because most of his screentime involves him butting heads with Aomine, but he seems to get along with the rest of the team alright. He respects his seniors and the spirit of the team too, he’s just an all-around good guy that seems to get the short end of the stick a lot.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I have a MIGHTY NEED to see how this guy does as captain, I want to know how he does things differently than Imayoshi and how he handles all the bullshit the team throws now that it’s all gonna be landing on his shoulders. We only got a tiny scene at the end of the show demonstrating his policy about Aomine, and we barely saw him at all in the Last Game, is he doing okay?? Is he ruling Touou with an iron fist or getting into screaming matches with his kouhai? I need to Know.

Thanks so much for asking, I really appreciate the show of interest! <3 Sorry again about the delay!

#Answered #knb #kasamatsu yukio #imayoshi shouichi #wakamatsu kousuke #long post #if any of y'all need me to put a readmore break in these just let me know #otherwise im just gonna take up the whole screen real quick k?#shin speaks #kuroko no basuke #kuroko no basket

8 notes · View notes

joonsrack · 4 years

Text

+Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Kim Namjoon

+Genre: One shot, college au, fluff, kind of established relationship but not.

+10-31, nonhyeon dong series: Part I | Part II | Part III

+Word count: 8.3k

+Summary:

"Hyung...you- you two kissed?" Seokjin freezes for a half a second, then rolls his eyes nonchalantly, going back to his task. "Yes, it was part of the plan, remember?" He feels the room fall silent around him. "What?" He asks and catches Namjoon’s expression that's getting redder by the seconds from where he's looking past Taehyung's shoulder to the phone in his dongsaeng's hands. "What?" He tries again. "We talked about a peck... This-..." He says gleefully, turning the phone towards Seokjin who squints to make senses of what's inside the small screen. "This is not. A peck"

+Warnings: SFW, Stalker (not between the same pairing), bad dad jokes & sarcasm.

A/N: Apology to VIXX fans, i didn’t know who they were back then and just picked a random celebrity name. Lee Jaehwan just happened to be there, i don’t hate him or anything.

Kim Namjoon 21h 43:

whrr thr f ar u

Kim Seokjin 21h 43:

I forgot to feed the cat.

Kim Namjoon 21h 43:

ur almoat ahour lte .

ANd we dnt hava catr .

Kim Seokjin 21h47:

You’re the person with the highest IQ I know, yet it takes a PhD to make sense of your text, honestly.

Kim Namjoon 21h 53:

(...)

You've been shining by your absence for almost a hour now , your club members have been throwing me weird looks for the most part of it because they do not know my business here .

Also , ywe do not own a cat.

Kim Seokjin 21h 54:

No need to get your underpants in a twist, Shakespeare. Just make it readable .

Kim Namjoon 21h 54:

Y ou're late . Your club members are w e i r d.

Kim Seokjin 21h 55:

Tell me something i don't know.

Kim Namjoon 21h 59:

It would take 10,000 helium balloons to make your ass fly over here.

Hurry . the fuck. up .

Kim Seokjin 22h 03:

Roger that .

Hey you want to hear a joke about helium ?

Kim Namjoon 22h 04:

Hyung.

No.

Kim Seokjin 22h 04:

Almost.

The correct answer is Na, though .

Kim Namjoon 22h 04:

hyuNG .

******

‘Best friends’ is what most people would use. Sometimes, there's the odd ball that calls them soulmates.

Honestly, Seokjin thinks neither apply.

The rest of their misfit roommates calls them oemma and appa. They also talk about their wedding as if it already happened. As a joke, of course.

Because they're not married.

He thinks to himself, as Namjoon spends most of the night with his arm wrapped around his waist. For his defense, they're acting like a couple to discourage a creep from Seokjin's club that's been becoming increasingly annoying in the last few weeks; Seokjin is never having drunk sex with kind-of-friends again, however horny he might get. Nothing good ever comes out of it, and now he's gotten himself the worst kind of STD: a stalker.

It only took a passing mention during their weekly TV Thursday night for their roommates to plan out a way to get Seokjin out of his awkward situation.

(It got past awkward territory when he asked you for the fifth time if you were sure you didn't want to go on a date with him Friday night, Yoongi said.

He might have been right.)

The solution they came up with then is to pretend Seokjin’s eternal Uni celibacy is a thing of the past, Namjoon being the logical choice as a fake boyfriend since the whole University already think they are dating.

Namjoon is also the logical choice since their noisy friends seem hellbent on having them married with five kids ever since Jungkook and Taehyung put their big boys pants on (or off) and confessed to each other. Now it's like it's their four friends goal to get Namjoon and Seokjin together next (Yoongi probably doesn't give a shit about anything else other than his music and Jimin's ass, so Seokjin isn't counting him in).

So yeah, Seokjin wouldn't exactly use the term best friend or soulmates to describe his relationship with the younger man. More something in the line of puzzle pieces; they're different yet they fit.

It's chance that brought them together (or more commonly named: being bad dancers). The only thing they had in common back then had been overbearing mothers; one who wanted her son to gain control over his limbs and stop breaking everything, and the other having high expectations for her son's handsome face. Being the worst of their hip hop dance class, they bonded over always being put in the back during choreography.

They don't take dance classes anymore, but 10 years down the line and Seokjin couldn't see his life without Kim Namjoon's face in it.

Living together for university had been only natural, and along came the five other weirdos.

They drew the line at sharing the same room to have a break of each other's face from time to time. But if it comes down to it, Namjoon is probably the only person, other than his parents, who knows almost everything about him.

(More than his parents, actually.)

So, kissing him to make their act all the more believable doesn't feel as weird as he thinks it should.

Awkward, maybe, but not weird. He spent the best of the last few years trying (and failing) to avoid looking at Namjoon's pout, so it's safe to say he's already familiarized with it; well before Namjoon chuckles awkwardly and goes in for a peck under the gleeful look of his club members. He's pretty sure bet had been going on about them.

Of course, the only one who doesn't think so is Lee Jaehwan, stalker extraordinary.

No, he seems extremely surprised by this turn of event, and has the audacity to look affronted. He doesn't budge though, just press his lips together and raises an eyebrow, as if to say: you're not fooling anyone.

Of course it wouldn't be that easy, Seokjin thinks, irritated.

"Come on boys, we're all adults here, we're over the peck-on-cheek stage" someone throws from the back. Once Seokjin finds out who, he's cancelled.

It's too late though, and their club members are calling obnoxiously for an encore. The rest of the patrons at the bar are looking at them like the bunch of annoying kids they are, bringing a faint blush of embarrassment to his cheeks. Seokjin smiles nervously, his excuse all set and ready to go; but it gets lost in Namjoon's mouth.

There's a hand on his neck keeping him in place, but it's not strong enough that he couldn't push it away, if he wanted. Namjoon is just that considerate.

It takes him a moment to remember he can (and should) breath through his nose.

He has a split second of clarity to thanks god Taehyung and Jungkook couldn't make it to their club hangout tonight, before he wraps his arms around Namjoon's neck and sells his soul to the devil. He's already in love with the dude, what is it going to change to get a taste of him?

Once he relaxes into the kiss, it becomes all the more natural. Puzzle pieces, Seokjin's mind provides again. His mind has always been too noisy though, so he shuts it off. Namjoon kisses him like it's a challenge, and Seokjin knows he already lost. He lost well before their lips ever connected; he doesn't feel like a loser, though, once he realizes that he’s not the only one breathing hard.

Seconds becomes minute and his club members chants become catcalls, and when he opens his eyes again, disoriented but holding on to Namjoon's frame, he can see from the corner of his eyes Lee Jaehwan storming out of the bar.

"Mission accomplished" Namjoon whispers to him once Creepy McPants is out of sight.

He lets out a relieved sigh and sags a little in Namjoon's embrace. His dongsaeng passes a reassuring hand down his back, knowing him too well. Anybody else and Seokjin would be putting on an indifferent front, but it's Kim Namjoon standing before him.

"Since we're here, might as well drink something? I think I need to relax a little." He says and tries to meet Namjoon’s eyes but the younger man seems to be looking at everything but him.

"Sure" Namjoon shrugs, "I'll go get us something, just to escape from their crazed looks for a few."

"You snatched the prettiest one around, of course they'll be noisy about it, it's the drama club." Seokjin says, playing up the arrogant attitude to try and get rid of the awkwardness surrounding them.

"You're so modest"

"Tell me something I don't know"

Namjoon looks pensive for a second, and Seokjin can only regret his comeback before his dongsaeng speaks again.

"We just shared 80 million bacteria" He answers, their eyes finally meeting.

Seokjin signs heavily, looking unimpressed with his friend. Of course, he's going to act as if they just didn't share some life changing kiss that's going to make it 300% harder for Seokjin to get over his infatuation.

That thing he did with his tongue?

He's ruined.

"You're not the only that can be a smart ass, Hyung." Namjoon shrugs again, then goes toward the general direction of the bar, probably to get him his favorite drink.

Because there's no reason why Namjoon wouldn't know Seokjin's favorite drink, is there?

******

"So how did your date go, hyung?" Jimin asks from where he's perched over the kitchen counter, licking a spatula full of what looks like thick white cream.

Yoongi standing frozen over the remains of a broken cup makes a lot more sense now.

Hoseok is whipping up cake batters for who knows what reason, and Jungkook and Taehyung are doing their weird foreplay rituals that includes playing violent video games and telling each other to eat shit.

Youngsters these days have weird ways to set the mood.

"Namjin 1; Jaehwan 0" He answers with no inflection. He just can't wait to be alone in his room to analyze every tiny detail of his new-found knowledge; Kim Namjoon aka Professional Mouth Licker.

"He looked pretty pissed though, when he stormed out" Namjoon says with a worried crease forming between his brows "You should probably be careful for the next few weeks... Try to avoid being alone with him".

"It's not like I have much control over that, we're in the same club, we're in the same play. He might have a pretty minor role put the mailman is a key character"

"Don't worry Hyung," Taehyung says from where his head is now pillowed on Jungkook's thighs. They've stopped playing to listen in, apparently. "We'll keep an eye on him. With Jungkook's muscles and my..." He looks down at his own body, frowning. "I won't be much help but Jungkook's muscles will do, I guess."

"But you do have muscles, hyungie" Jungkook says, trying to subtly shove a hand under Taehyung's T-shirt. 'Trying' being the key word here.

"Oh for fuck sake" Jimin says, fake gagging. "We should never have helped them get their shit together. I'll regret it eternally."

"Yah, when have you ever helped them," Yoongi squints. "You only wanted first row to the drama."

Jimin doesn't even bother looking affronted, sauntering off the counter with a smirk.

"You gotta admit Hyung, the tea was pretty good."

Taehyung and Jungkook get-together-story kind of became this year's running gag, generating hours of teasing and laughing from the rest of their hyungs. But they took their revenge by becoming gross. Grosser than when they were simply crushing on each other, as if that was possible.

Which is why Seokjin knows it's Taehyung's phone that starts making a racket as he pours himself and Namjoon a glass of water, since his different notifications sounds are recordings of Jungkook's various weird laughs.

(Once, Taehyung "forgot" his phone in his room, and he spent the whole night waking up to the Maknae's evil laughter. Seokjin still believe the phone had been purposely hidden there. Revenge had been written all over Taehyung's face when he came to collect his phone the next morning.)

But now he's so used to it that he barely reacts, until a loud gasp from behind startles him.

"Hyung...you- you two kissed?"

Seokjin freezes, then rolls his eyes nonchalantly, going back to his task. "Yes, it was part of the plan, remember?"

He feels the room fall silent around him.

"What?" He asks and catches Namjoon’s expression that's getting redder by the seconds from where he's looking past Taehyung's shoulder to the phone in his dongsaeng's hands.

"What?" He tries again.

"We talked about a peck... This-..." He says gleefully, turning the phone towards Seokjin who squints to make senses of what's inside the small screen. "This is not. A peck"

It's a little blurry, but you can clearly see Namjoon's tongue shoved down his throat.

Seokjin takes a deep breath, brain going a mile a minute to come up with a good excuse.

He can feel five hungry stares looking their way, and he's coming up blank; all he can focus on is the thought of his bed calling on to him.

He does the most sensible thing; grabs Namjoon's hand before anyone can react and runs for it.

"I'm sorry hyung, I wanted to help you out, but now we will never live this down." Namjoon whines from between his hands covering his red face, once they are safely hidden away in Seokjin and Yoongi's room.

"Tell me something I don't know"

Namjoon goes to open his mouth despite his embarrassment, but this time Seokjin is faster.

"Don't.”

He can hear giggle from the other side of the door that he gratefully locked, thanking god for Min Yoongi and his appreciation of social interactions.

"You can't hide forever hyungie~" Jimin muffled voice calls out sweetly.

"Yes we can~" He answers, matching in sweetness.

"No you can't, not in my room."

"Shut up Yoongiyah, you go sleep in Namjoon's bed for the night." he says, since being the oldest has advantages. "Or better yet, I'm sure Jimin has some space to spare for your skinny ass." he adds as an afterthought.

There's a few choice words thrown his way, until he can hear Hoseok tell Yoongi to shut the fuck up and sacrifice his room to blossoming love.

A disgruntled sigh is all he needs to hear to know they won't be disturbed for the reminder of the night.

*****

The signs that escape his mouth is enough to shake mountains, but not Min Yoongi.

No, Yoongi ignores his arrival, still a little bit mad for having been locked out of his room couple days ago. Jimin is there as well, lazing on his hyung's bed with a pair of earbuds cutting him off from the world. Seokjin's catches a few seconds of what seems to be some studio dance practice.

He sighs again, this time his whole body melting into his bed.

"What." Yoongi's snaps. Because no matter how hard he tries, he'll never be able to hide the fact that he cares.

"Lee Jaehwan has yet to give up, it seems."

It doesn't take half a second before Namjoon's head pops into the room.

"I knew he'd be hard to shake off" he muses out loud, cocking a hip against the door frame

"If you two keep acting like a couple he'll get over it some days" Yoongi says, not stopping the rotation of his chair. It's making Seokjin dizzy.

"What acting?" Jimin adds from his spot, one of his earbud now dangling.

Ignoring his comment, Namjoon's takes place on the space left on the bed and puts a reassuring hand on the small of his back.

"My point" Jimin mutters again, but a pillow is thrown into his face.

"What happened?", Namjoon asks, and Seokjin groans once again.

"Nothing too dramatic... he asked me if I was serious about you and he got all mad when I said yes. Then he was just there, in the background. I could feel his wrath, literally. He made everyone tiptoe around him."

"He acted like a dickwad" Jungkook adds from the door frame, balancing Taehyung on his back. "The biggest dickwad around"

"Not to me" Taehyung says, and the room focus on him.

"He acted overly sweet and asked If I knew of anyone planning to move out of the apartment. And how much the rent was."

A grim silence fills the room, even Yoongi stops spinning.

"For fuck sake" Seokjin whines.

"Of course, I told him no one was leaving and he couldn't afford the rent. Then he acted like the biggest dickwad towards me as well."

"Well this Lee Jaehwan problem will not go away as easily as we thought" Jimin says, all business like.

Namjoon's chin is starting to protrude; he's getting serious.

The front doors screeches, and Hoseok erupts from the hallway a few seconds later, drenched in sweat, finding the six of them crammed into the medium sized room with a mix of worried and irritated expressions on.

"What'd I miss" he says, eyebrows joining his hairline, trying to squeeze past the two men combo blocking the door. "Why' we all crammed in here when the living room is perfectly sized to accommodate all of us?" He asks, but he joins Jimin on the bed anyways, to Yoongi's displeasure. They both ignores his protest as they get into a more comfortable position.

"The disrespect- I swear to god if my bed smells like sweat... How can you touch him right now Jiminie?"

"We're both dancers, we're used to it." Their matching indifferent look are enough to shut Yoongi up.

"What should we do next." Namjoon's puts the conversation back on track.

"Seokjin-hyung could act mean to him?" Jungkook proposes.

"Have you seen him? He doesn't know how to be mean. He's an eomma down to his soul"

"I can be mean," he defends himself against Jimin's jab, "I could tell him his... body proportions are bad?"

A groan spreads through the room. Even Hoseok who doesn't even know what they're talking about. He must be getting the idea, though.

"Tell him his acting sucks" Taehyung proposes. "Because it does. Then you're not being mean, you're telling the truth and saving him from a future of job rejections. It's a win-win.”

"We're not trying to destroy his self-esteem, just trying to make him see that Seokjin-hyung is not the one for him."

"Then tell him he doesn't fit your standards"

"I tried, but he laughed it off." He says, irritation permeating his words.

"It's like nobody here knows our university has campus security" Jimin sighs.

"Luckily for us or our precious Jungkookie would be in jail~" Hoseok singsongs.

The maknaes couple blush and escapes the room, Taehyung still perched on his boyfriend's back.

"They will never live this down" Yoongi's grins, then hits a couple of keys on his keyboards and jumps to his feet. "Alright, I'm gone"

"Hi gone, I'm Seokjin", he answers as an automatism, because he knows his classics. Dad jokes are life.

Yoongi stops in his track as a resounding groan crosses the room again, stares at him with the blankest look of disappointment possible, then leaves without saying anything else.

The sound of the door closing seems to startle Hoseok and Jimin into action as well.

"Didn't you say the studio was free today? I need you to look at a new movement I want to fit in for the next showcase."

"Sure, everything for my cute dongsaengie" Hoseok coos. Coos.

In a flurry of movement only flexible people can afford, they both leave the room with a goodbye thrown behind.

And they were two.

"Either my bad joke scared them away, or none of my dongsaengs care that I might be kidnapped and put into a cage only to be fed dry ass chicken by a creep that's counting on Stockholm syndrome to make me fall for him."

Namjoon scoffs but frowns again.

"You want to give a shot to extra PDA? I could come and fetch you after your club meetings? We could try walking together in the morning?"

“It’s not like we don’t already do that most of the time.” Seokjin sighs to the sudden quietness of the room. “But sure, ’cause I'm getting too old to put my back through the trauma of being restrained in a cage."

He pats the empty spot next to him and Namjoon takes the cue and lays down.

They wake up hours later disoriented and limbs tangled to the flash of a camera.

These damn youngsters, he swears silently.

*****

The next day, everybody seems to have a new lock screen.

Everybody but Yoongi of course, but Seokjin doesn't take it personally; Min Holly has been his phone screen ever since he had to leave his puppy with his parents while he was off to University.

And by the way he smirks at Seokjin first thing in the morning, he at least downloaded the picture into his phone.

It's a cute picture he has to admit, with him and Namjoon so entangled it's hard to tell which limbs belongs to who. He wishes he could find a way to subtly ask someone to send it to him. But that would be weird, right?

Right.

His paper on the influence of dramatics art on the development of kids is staring blankly back at him. He's supposed to hand it back in a few days but he can't bring himself to stay focused for two seconds, he's got too many things on his mind; like Namjoon's tongue down his throat or the borderline stalker walking towards him.

"Hey, Seokjinie!"

Lee Jaehwan is waving, and Seokjin debates acting like he didn't see or hear him, but being in the school library kind of makes it hard to play that card. Also the fact that they shared a nice and awkward eye contact.

"Jaehwan, hey" he answers, hoping his irritation isn't showing too much.

"You're working on the paper for Park Seonseangnim's class?"

"Yeah... Or I'm trying to. I'm having a hard time focusing here." Seokjin says with a small bite, hoping for the man to take the cue. Which he doesn't.

"Oh well, you want to take a coffee break? I'll buy.” he says, with a big smile full of teeth. Like a wolf in disguise. That wants to kidnap him.

And then put him in a cage and feed him dry chicken.

Seokjin closes the lid of his laptop just on the side of too hard. Here he was hoping to fit in a couple of lines, but that won't be possible now.

"Actually, I have to go, I'm meeting up with Namjoonie in a few."

"Right. Kim Namjoon. Your Boyfriend." He says with something close to disdain in his voice, the capital "B" clearly voluntary.

Seokjin starts gathering his things as Jaehwan carries on.

"You know it's funny because when I think about it just a few weeks ago you told you didn't want to date before finishing your degree."

He's still smiling and it's so fake, Seokjin can see right through. He can see the irritation and self-righteousness, and it's starting to get on his nerves.

"You're right, I remember thinking that. But I also remember being an adult who can take his own goddamn decision without anyone butting in, thank you very much."

He roughly shoves his books in his bag, struggling when the zipper gets stuck. Jaehwan takes the opportunity to grab him by the wrist and halt his movement, and it takes Seokjin everything to contains his rage at having this guy trying to invade his life.

"Wait, I didn't mean to make you mad. I'm just trying to figure out why you rejected me. You haven't even left me a chance. After that night you just acted as if nothing happened..."

"Honestly, I've told you in so many different ways that you don't interest me, if you still don't get it by now, then you're just plain stupid. I like them smart, so all the more reasons for me not to date you.” he hisses.

With that off his mind, he yanks his arm free and walks away. Some students stare as he storms out, but he's too irritated to feel bad for his loudness.

There's strange sense of satisfaction that comes with not acting nice. Is this how it feels to be mean?

******

That night when he gets home he starts whipping up a meal. It happens when he's stressed. Frying rice somehow helps him get his mind off things.

There's only three pair of shoes thrown hazardously by the door, but he always makes enough to have leftovers, so he cooks something for seven. By the time it's almost ready, Namjoon, Taehyung and Jimin come sniffing out of their room, drawn out by the smell of his kimchi fried rice.

Namjoon takes one look at him and at the meal he's cooking.

"Is something wrong, Hyung?"

Seokjin answers with a noncommittal sound and the subject is dropped, for now. Jimin takes the hint though and pops a chilled soju bottle and a couple of beer out of the refrigerator.

"Someak! Someak!" Taehyung exclaims, and gets the shot glass and beer glass from the cupboard.

They eat in relative quietness, talking in low voice of the highlights of their days and enjoying a few drinks. By 8pm, Jimin's and Taehyung's cheeks are reddish, and they laugh much too easily. Namjoon is telling them a story in a slower and deeper drawl than usual, and Seokjin is smiling at nothing. Or maybe he's smiling at Namjoon stupid handsome face, and low voice, and adorable dimples. Whatever.

Jimin and Taehyung offer themselves for the dishes, Namjoon having been banned from the task since the first few months of their cohabitation.

"You wanna watch something on my computer?" He offers Seokjin instead.

"What are my options?"

Namjoon thinks for a second, booting up his laptop.

"Are you feeling more something like Train to Busan or 100 days with Mr. Arrogant?"

"As much as I enjoy my fair share of teen classic, seeing zombies eating their way through humanity seems pretty ideal for my state of mind right now."

"Train to Busan it is." He says, and search through his files until he lets out a triumphant sound, the movie studio animation playing a few seconds later.

They settle more comfortably on Namjoon's bed, still a little buzzed from their drinks. The laptop is safely positioned on a nightstand, strategically moved to be the perfect TV stand.

He makes it through the first half relatively alert, but the screams of terror are lulling him to sleep, and he burrow a little deeper under the blanket. Namjoon throws a casual arm over him, like it's the most natural thing for them to cuddle. It probably is.

He doesn't know how he ends up the little spoon, but he's not going to complain; Namjoon's breath is ghosting over his neck, making goosebumps breaks out all over his skin.

It should probably make the whole experience uncomfortable, but it doesn't, truth to be told. This happened countless times over the last ten years, and it will probably happens again. They both know each other’s body by now, and he does know why he ended up the little spoon. He always is, probably because he ends up complaining whenever it's the other way around.

His lanky arms are just not made for Namjoon's head.

There's a finger rubbing circles into his skin, probably more unconsciously than anything else. The shape they're drawing is getting less consistent as Namjoon's breath evens out. Soon enough, Seokjin's eyes are losing the battle against the drowsiness weighting over them. There's a weird noise somewhere in the house, but he pays it no mind as his breath evens out as well.

With Jimin and Taehyung being the only one home, it's nothing new. But there's a weird feeling to it all. Nevertheless, he knows if it's anything major they'll come knocking.

It ends up being kind of major, but there's no knocking, and it's not who he thought it would be.

God, he wishes they had chosen his goddamn room to watch the movie, then he could have locked the door and wouldn't need to open his eyes to Lee Jaehwan's face.

"What the fuck." Is all he manages to say.

There's Jimin and Taehyung struggling to hold him back with pink latex gloves on, but they clearly kept on drinking so they don't seem to be the most efficient defence line.

Namjoon makes a confused noise when Seokjin's warmth disappears, following him as he sits up on the bed.

He looks confused by Jaehwan's presence, until he sees the door of their apartment gapping open down the hallway and his maknaes’s distraught states.

And then, he doesn't look confused anymore.

The only time Seokjin saw Namjoon looking like that was years ago, when one of Seokjin's ex cheated on him, gave him a STD, then called him on the phone to break up with him. That had been a funny night. That evening, Namjoon silently went out and came back hours later hiding his hands in his pockets. Seokjin never asked.

"What do you think you're doing here?"

Calm and composed is, and always will be, the scariest kind of Kim Namjoon. He gets to his feet in an intimidating motion, ready to block off any attempt to get to his Hyung.

"Seokjinah, I need to talk to you"

"He's got nothing to say to you. Get out."

"I'm not talking to you." He tries to side step Namjoon but he's having none of it. He grabs him by the arm, hard enough to earn him a whine, and pulls him out of the room into the hallway and out the door of their apartment. He’s got his two hands holding on roughly to Jaehwan’s shirt collar, probably planning on slamming him into a wall, but before they can create a bigger disturbance, Seokjin stops him with a gentle hand.

"Go back inside." He tells Namjoon, his eyes on Lee Jaehwan

"Hyung..." He tries to argue, not letting go.

"I got this."

It's probably the look of steel on Seokjin's face that convince Namjoon to let him handle the situation, and after throwing a last look between the two, he reluctantly lets go and withdraws inside.

He's probably spying through the peephole, though.

"Let's walk." Seokjin, throws over his shoulder, walking towards the exit without looking if Jaehwan is following. The last thing he wants is noise complaints from his neighbour. He doesn't even know what time it is, but the last time he checked, it was pushing 10, so it's probably getting late.

They walk down the staircase and out of the building in total silence, the only thing confirming the other man following being the sound of his steps close behind.

Once they step into the air outside, Seokjin takes the direction of the nearest subway station.

Jaehwan hurries his steps to be level with him.

"I know it's rude to barge in like that but I really needed to talk to you... and your roommates refused to go and get you."

"Reasonable, as they knew I was busy.”

"I didn't have a choice, you've haven't responded to any of my text. I couldn't find you after you left the library."

"Probably because I didn't want to talk to you. But we're here, so let's talk." He stops and turns around." I don't know how to make you understand that I don't have any interest in you, any intention to date you-"

Jaehwan tries to interrupt but Seokjin raises his hand and stops him.

"I'm at the point where I don't even want to try and stay friend with you. You're making me hate you."

"But the night we spent together-" he says, grabbing his wrist, again.

"Meant nothing. We slept together. That's it. I was drunk, you were drunk. We had a one off and honestly, I don't even remember half of it. From what I do remember though, you weren't really memorable. We're just not a good match."

"I was drunk, if we tried again-"

Seokjin snaps his wrist away and takes a step back.

"There is not going to be an 'again'. There was never going to be one since there's nothing between us."

"Seokjin..."

"You're making yourself look pathetic, and you're making my life hard. Just please, stop it. Don't talk to me outside of club duty."

"Why, because your boyfriend won't like it?" Jaehwan, says, taking a step forward to stay close, invading his personal space. Again.

"No, because I don't want to talk to you, that's all. Namjoon has nothing to do with this."

"Oh, come on Seokjinie, I know you're not dating him for real. You’re just trying to make me jealous.” Jaehwan says with a smile, as if he's gotten the upper hand. Seokjin hesitates a second but decides it's not even worth to try and defend the lie they crafted to discourage Jaehwan’s advances. Clearly, it failed.

“No, I told everyone we were dating so you would give up, but your head is so far up your ass that it didn't matter to you."

"Yah Kim Seokjin," he says, and take a couple of steps again, until he's standing in Seokjin's face. "I've let a lot of insults slip by because I know you're just playing hard to get, but don't cross the line. You keep calling me stupid and stuff, and it's not cute anymore. Let's just stop this game, ok? We don't have to tell anyone if you're scared for your image, we can just date in secret."

Seokjin is shocked frozen by the thickness of Jaehwan's skull. He's so deluded, and he's starting to regret not letting Namjoon handle him. No, he had to go and get them alone, at night, with no one around.

"I'm not playing hard to get. I don't like you. Leave me alone. How many times do I have to say-"

Lee Jaehwan grabs both of his shoulders and goes in for a kiss, shocking Seokjin who braces himself for the impact. He struggles to push the man away, but he's never been the muscular type, giving Jaehwan an advantage that he takes to keep a tight hold on him.

He can feel fingers digging uncomfortably into the meat of his shoulder, making it hard to avoid Jaehwan's attempt to plant one on him.

Seokjin is considering a nice and well timed headbutt, desperate times and all that, but it proves itself unnecessary as two muscled arms pull the man off him and make quick work of throwing him to the ground in a mess of limbs.

Never in his life Seokjin has been this happy to see Jeon Jungkook, modern day hero.

He's standing tall in all of his post workout glory, a gym bag hanging from his shoulder and his tank top showing off his impressive biceps.

Once Jaehwan sees who it is, he exclaims in anger, opening his mouth probably to shout about respects and social conventions.

Before anything makes out of his throat though, Jungkook interrupts him.

"Sunbae," He says, voice honey-sweet. He carefully places a foot on Jaehwan's hands, putting a light pressure. "I don't think you're showing a good example right now, with the bad touch and the lack of consent" Seokjin bites his tongue, knowing now is not the right time to bring up Jungkook's romantic history. "You should go home and reflect on that for the night." He says, and then add just a little bit more pressure on the hand squished between his shoe and the harsh cement of the side walk. "And If you ever touch Seokjin-Hyung again, I will break every single joint in both of your hands. Understood?"

His smile doesn't match his words nor his action, succeeding in creeping even Seokjin out.

He will never fight Jungkook for the last chapseolttoek ever again.

Jaehwan jumps to his feet, looking like he wants to run for his life, but he still takes the time to pull his clothes back in place, patting himself down while huffing out in displeasure.

"That's no way to talk to your sunbae. You better learn some respect Jeon Jungkook." he tries and fails to look intimidating.

Jungkook only cocks an unimpressed eyebrow, taking a step and prompting Jaehwan into backtracking. He walks away half running, throwing a worried look over his shoulder every few meters until he's a dot in the distance.

They stand in place in silence, looking at where Jaehwan left, until Seokjin snaps out of his shocked state and seeks the closest bench to sits himself on, head falling into his hands with a humourless laugh.

Jungkook takes the hints and sits by his side, putting a reassuring hand on his neck and gently massaging the tension there.

They stay like that a few minutes until his phone starts ringing, the line It’s gon’ get you in trouble resonating into the night and pulling him out of his silence.

Kim Namjoon is shining back at him with a picture of his friend holding up a small crab, excitement noticeable by his facial expression. It usually brings a smile to his face, but this time he signs before answering.

"Hyung, is everything ok? You've been gone for a while" He says the second Seokjin hits answers.

"Yeah I'm good, he's gone,” he says trying to sound normal.” but I walked into Jungkook so I forgot to text you back..."

"You sound weird, did anything happen?"

He takes a look at Jungkook, and the maknae stares back, probably having heard Namjoon's question in the quietness of the night.

"No, I'm just tired. But I think it's finally over, he got it. He seemed pretty... Deterred" he finishes, thinking about Jaehwan's scared face as he ran away.

Namjoon hesitates on the phone, probably not believing him one bit. He can hear Taehyung and Jimin anxiously asking for news, but Namjoon ignores them, probably overanalysing the way he sounds from the few words they exchanged and dressing hypothesis on why he sounds like somebody told him his jokes suck.

"Just... get home safely hyung" He ends up saying.

"Don't worry about me, I've got Mr.Muscle here guarding my ass." he says throwing a smile Jungkook's way.

After he hangs up and he and Jungkook are on their way, he takes a moment to put a hand on his Maknae's shoulder.

"I would appreciate if you could keep what happened tonight to yourself. I don’t know how Namjoon might react, but I don’t want him getting into trouble with the school."

Jungkook thinks for a second but seems to agree.

"He's going to be really angry if he finds out we kept it from him, though."

"I'll deal with him if it comes to it, alright?"

Jungkook raise an eyebrow, but Seokjin knows he can trust him.

"Aigoo~! our cute maknae is now a man capable of saving a damsel in distress" he says, changing the subject, pinching Jungkook's cheek.

"You're aware that you're describing yourself as a damsel in distress in this context, right?" He says as he slaps the hand away from his face.

"Whatever."

*******

Life without worrying about stalkers and fake relationship is... Regular. Back to normal.

He goes to school, goes to theater club, goes home, sleep, rinse, repeat.

Also, he tries not to think about how almost nothing changed about his relationship with Namjoon, going from normal to fake dating to back to normal. If he let his mind wander, he'd overanalyse how they acted as they usually did to make people believe they were dating. Huh.

Exhibit A.

Namjoon gets home to find him finishing a 10 funniest Britain's got talent auditions video.

"Hyung, not again. We talked about this. You should be writing your paper. You know when you watch one of these you can't stop."

"It's a rabbit hole, I swear to god. Plus, YouTube knows. It knows, and it just keeps showing me more and more recommendation of audition's video. They got me by the Balls, Namjoonie."

Namjoon's sits down on the couch next to him, and Seokjin does the most natural thing, which is, reclining back until his dongsaeng passes his arms around him to hug him to his chest. Then, he presses on the button for the next video.

Exhibit B.

Namjoon is in one of his mood where nothing can disturb him of the song he's working on, not even hunger. He's been sitting in front of his laptop for at least eight straight hours. Seokjin knows, he counted.

Namjoon's got his headphone on and his clavier out, and all of his mixing equipment he saved for years to acquire are spread out across his desk. He's bobbing his head one moment, then growling in irritation the next.

Seokjin puts the rice cooker to good use then, preparing some slim kimbap that he cuts into small bite size.

Yoongi watch him cook from the kitchen table where he's working on a cup ramen, slurping obnoxiously. He raises an eyebrow, scoffing when he sees Seokjin disappear into the room Namjoon has yet to come out since that morning.

He doesn't bother trying to win Namjoon's attention, just grabs the first piece and feeds it in his dongsaeng's mouth. Or more like shoves it. He's not against manually making Namjoon chew, but thankfully, even in his hyper focused state, Namjoon’s reflexes make quick work of the pieces Seokjin feeds him. Then, once the plate has been emptied, he swats at the rice stuck to Namjoon’s lower lips, just as Hoseok steps into the room.

His roommate takes two steps back and gets out the way he came in.

Exhibit C.

Namjoon's overhear Jungkook telling what transpired that night to Taehyung and all hell break loose.

Seokjin is not even mad at the maknae, who probably only wanted to brag to his boyfriend. But maybe he'll put a little extra gochugaru in his spicy cold noodle next time.

It's Saturday night, and before he has to give his soul back to the university, he's playing a little DS to relax. He's got his favourite DS-and-chill outfit on, and nothing can ruin this night.

Except.

He hears the front door slamming, then somebody running, then his door burst open to his maknae whose face has gone comically pale.

"Seokjin-Hyung, he- he Knows. Namjoon-Hyung knows."

That's all it takes for Seokjin to jump to his feet and run at the door, trying to stop Namjoon from getting himself into prison. He's pretty sure it’s not as glamorous as prison playbook made it seem. And Namjoon is not even a star player.

He attracts looks from passerby, maybe because the shoes he has on don't match. Taehyung's faux-fur moccasin do not go well with Jungkook plain puma trainer. It might also be because he didn't take the time to get out of his pink onesie. It even has a bunny tail.

"Namjoon! Stop!" He shout-whispers once he's a few meters behind him. Namjoon ignores him, power walking towards the subway station.

"Yah! You better stop right there Kim Namjoon!" He says a little bit louder. Suddenly, Namjoon takes a right turn into a smaller street. Dumbfounded, Seokjin turns the corner to follow after him, only to stops abruptly inches from the man's face.

He looks livid, and Seokjin almost has the reflex to take a step back. But this is Kim Namjoon we're talking about.

"Why didn't you tell me." He sounds cold and angry, but most of all, disappointed.

Seokjin crosses his arms, giving the younger man the sassy eyebrows treatment. The bunny tail makes it all the more credible.

"Namjoon, you're hellbent on whopping some asshole's ass when you're still in your slippers and haven't even heard the whole story"

Namjoon looks down at his slipper clad feet. Monstrosities Seokjin bought him as a joke a few years ago, when he dropped Cheonggukjang broth all over his old ones, rendering them a brown and stinky mess. The panda shaped slippers had been a fixture since then.

"If Jungkook hadn't been there he would have-"

"While I am truly grateful for our precious maknae's intervention, I am not as powerless as you make me seem, and I had a very powerful and teeth shattering headbutt up my sleeve that I would have used otherwise. Now; Let's talk about how you were about to go get your ass kicked out of school for something that did not happen."

"I-... Hyung."

"You need to learn how to control your anger. It's an issue; whenever something set you off you just spring into action without thinking. It's going to get you in jail someday."

"Hyung"

"Don't 'hyung' me right now, I’m being serious. You have a brain, and I know for a fact that you know how to use it, so use it." He says, poking a crocked finger into Namjoon's chest. The younger man grabs his hand as a whole, stopping his probing. He doesn't let go, leaving them in a weird hand holding position.

"I would gladly go to jail for you, Seokjinah" he says, avoiding his eyes once he speaks.

"Yah, I'm the hyung here, I'm the one who should do the protecting." Seokjin answers to Namjoon weirdly intense declaration.

"As if, you only use the hyung card when you want to win an argument, you're the tallest toddler I know."

"Kim Namjoon, you wanna die?" He says, irritation plaguing his tone. But his dongsaeng carries on.

"You're the biggest coward I know, even worse than Hoseok. So, I know for a fact that you aren't a natural born protector. I've known you for so long I also know that you would go to scary height to protect those you love. But you also tend to forget yourself and your own safety. And that's why I feel like it's my job to take care of anyone that fucks with you. So please, don't hide this kind of stuff from me."

"That's sweet, but I raised you better than for you to solve problems with your fist. You've been hanging out with yoongi too much recently."

Namjoon rolls his eyes but grabs Seokjin's other hand.

So, yeah. They're just standing face to face, holding hands. The silence stretches on, until Seokjin runs out of details to map out on Namjoon's face.

"Well." He says, more to put an end to the silent staring contest than to start an actual conversation. "This has been weirdly informative." His hands are getting moist the longer they stand around like a couple of love sick kids. Namjoon still doesn't say anything, just stare at him. "Moral of this story, don't go beat up anyone in my name, please". More silence.

"Alright, so we're doing this weird staring into each other eyes while swinging our hands around, not awkward at all. Nope."

"You know hyung,-" Namjoon starts, voice steady, but with a weird nervousness to it.

Seokjin waits patiently.

"You know, I never told you this before but-"

Seokjin blinks, now curious about what is about to be said.

"You're very pretty."

Namjoon’s face flush a dark red after the comment leaves his mouth.

Seokjin thinks it's adorable. He also thinks hearing Namjoon compliment him is his new favourite thing in the world. But of course, his automatic answer is sarcasm.

He scoffs, and he could probably find a better comeback if he wasn't so busy trying to hide his matching blush. "Tell me something I don't know." He answers dryly.

There's a heavy silence hanging over them, and Seokjin wonders for a second what kind of weird knowledge Namjoon is about to drop on him this time.

"I really fucking love you, Kim Seokjin." Namjoon answers, squeezing his hands harder.

If he hadn't been shocked out of his mind, he probably would have been self-conscious about the river of sweat accumulating between their palms. But his brain has been frozen still, as the rest of his body.

"I've been in love with for so long, I can't for the love of god remember since when. And if you don't feel the same, I think we're all mature enough to not destroy ten years of friendship over it."

Seokjin opens his mouth but nothing comes out, and he just lets it hanging slack. It matches his eyes perfectly; just on the edge of popping out of his skull.

"But I really needed to say it. Because every time I look at you shoving food in your mouth, or hear you say a new dad joke even worse than the last, or doing that weird shoulder dance that makes you look like a moron, I fall a little bit harder in love with you. And I needed to know if I had a chance, because if I don't put a brake to my feelings soon, I'm scared I won't be able to love anyone else as hard as I love you."

It takes a moment for his brain to comeback online, and then Seokjin thinks about everything this could change, break and ruin. But it's only for a fleeting second, because he also thinks about the puzzle pieces. How him and Namjoon have fit from day one. How they've been each other's support system since the beginning.

Also how they've basically been married without legal contract or physical perks for the better of the last few years of their relationship. Being Facebook Official with the man he loves doesn't sound so bad.

"The kids are going to give us so much shit when we tell them we might finally make their marriage goal a reality." He answers, and Namjoon chuckles with a smile so wide his face might crack. They swing their hands still clasped together, looking at each other fondly.

"Sooo, are you going to kiss me or do I have to do all the work?" His boyfriend-future husband asks.

Seokjin snorts, grabs him by his stupid face and smash their mouth together.

*******

"Does that mean we can call you eomma and appa without you getting mad?" Taehyung asks, picture of innocence.

"That's hyung for you Taehyungah." Seokjin says. He's not about to be disrespected by his favorite dongsaeng.

"Alright, eomma-hyung.".

"These youngsters" he swears quietly.

#magicshopnet #bts fanfic #namjin fanfic #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #this was supposed to be straight up non established established relationship fluff #but i ended up using it to work through some issues lol #bangtanscenery

38 notes · View notes