#oh boy nil you better run

[creativesplat]

So the Fell Xenologue... huh...

[assortedseaglass]

🌟Christingle | Yuletide🌟

Billy Taylor x Reader

Summary: Billy gets flustered when you help with make Christmas decorations for the Halcyon.

Content: Drabble, Fluff

Yuletide Masterlist

Not for the first time that day, Billy Taylor swore under his breath.

“Sodding oranges,”

It seemed a waste to Billy; George getting all these oranges just so the hotel could use them as decoration. It was a waste too, that his afternoon was spent cutting them into slices while the other bell boys were down the pub. But Christmas was the Halcyon’s busiest period and his mother needed him to help wherever he could.

He hissed suddenly, sucking his thumb between his lips. “Bloody hell,”

A small giggle came from the kitchen door and Billy stood up at once, always ready to be of service.

“Everything alright?” Silhouetted by the corridor’s harsh light, you stood watching Billy, a friendly smile on your face. The white apron of your maids’ uniform was bunched between your hands, holding something in great quantities that you didn’t have enough hands for.

Billy rubbed the back of his neck. Ever since you’d started at the Halcyon, you’d made Billy nervous. With your bright smiles, shared glances during Skinner’s inspections and gentle demeanour, Billy couldn’t help but be enamoured by you.

“Yeah, oh yeah, fine.” He nodded and sat back down, pulling the front of his jacket straight and trying not to fluster as you pulled a wooden stool up to his workstation.

He wasn’t a complete stranger to girls. He’d danced with a few occasionally, and attempted to flirt at the pub, but as far as everyday interactions went, Billy’s experience was almost nil. Pretty young women came to the Halcyon all the time, under the watchful eyes of their mothers and husbands. But they either looked down on him, as one of “the staff”, or he was admonished by Garland or his mother as he watched a skirted bottom shimmy away for just a moment too long.

When you’d arrived, he was excited and terrified in equal measure. A pretty girl to talk to who wouldn’t pretend he was invisible and, even better, to work alongside in close quarters. A pretty girl who, most likely, already had a young man and wouldn’t think twice about daft, green, forgetful Billy Taylor.

With a clatter, you emptied the contents of your bunched apron onto the table. Jars and jars of cloves.

“For the Christingles,” you said, answering his glance at them. “Forgot to take a basket to the pantry.” You leant over him, the skin of your wrist brushing his, and took a few oranges from his pile. Billy flushed pink and glanced back at his work slicing the fruit. You didn’t notice. “It’s a waste, isn’t it?”

Billy looked up at you, smiling. “You’re telling me! I’d never even tried an orange until a year ago and here we are cutting them up for decorations.” Billy said, watching as you began adorning your orange with cloves. When you were done, you tied a red ribbon around it’s centre and curled the ends with the blade of a paring knife. You set it down next to you and took another orange in hand. Billy watched as, instead of decorating it, you began peeling it and placed a segment in your mouth.

Through your mouthful you asked, “What have they got you making then, Billy?”

“Garlands for staff kitchen. Not even for the guests. Bloody hell!” He dropped the knife and orange and sucked his thumb.

In an instant, you took his hand in yours. “D’you cut yerself?” Your mouth was still full of orange segments.

“Nah, no,” Billy coughed. “It’s the juice. I’ve a cut on my thumb and the juice keeps irritating it.”

“Over here,” you stood up, not letting go of his hand, and pulled him over to the sink. Running the faucet, you checked its temperature, “not too hot, not too cold,” and placed his hand underneath it.

Billy sighed in relief as the acidic sting dissipated.

“Tell you what, Billy,” you began patting his hand dry. “Why don’t you do the Christingles, and I’ll do the garland? The cloves won’t irritate your hands then.”

Billy was about to voice his agreement when you lifted his hand to your mouth and kissed his thumb. “All better!”

“Blimey.” He stood stock still as you walked back to the table and swapped his tray of orange slices for your jar of cloves. Coughing awkwardly and once more straightening his uniform, Billy made his way to sit beside you, a little closer than last time.

He took up the cloves and began piercing the skin of the orange. As he did, the sweet oil of the fruit filled the air. You inhaled deeply beside him.

“I wish they were cheaper,” you said with a smile. “I’d eat them everyday if I could.” You popped another segment into your mouth and Billy chuckled.

“You better hurry up and finish eating before cook catches you.”

“He won’t miss one orange.”

“No,” Billy finished another Christingle. “I’ll leave the ribbons to you. But I worry you won’t be able to stop yourself.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you nudged him playfully. “I’ve already stashed one in my coat for later. Open up.”

“You what?”

“Open up!” You were holding an orange segment before his mouth, waiting expectantly for him to do as you asked. Hot nervousness prickled the back of his neck and in between his legs. Tentatively, he opened his mouth and the sweet, acidic taste of the lemon set his taste buds ablaze.

“Thanks,” he swallowed hard. “Can feed myself though.”

You laughed and peeled off another segment, popping it in your own mouth. “I know,” you blushed a little. “Just thought you wouldn’t get the juice in your cut again, that’s all.”

“Oh right,” Billy laughed that time, a little unsure of himself. “Thanks.”

“S’alright.”

An uncomfortable sort of silence fell between the two of you as you worked. You finished your orange and got back to slicing the others ready for drying. Billy worked through a jar of cloves and onto the next as he prepared the fragrant Christingles.

“Sorry if that was inappropr-”

“What are you doing Christmas Ev-”

You spoke at the same time. “You first,” said Billy.

You shifted in your chair and blushed again. A glimmer of pride shone in Billy’s chest.

“I’m sorry if that was inappropriate, Billy. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, no,” Billy hurried to reassure you. In truth, it was both inappropriate and uncomfortable, but Billy found he didn’t mind at all. “It was helpful.”

You nodded with a small smile and cut another slice of orange. “And you Billy, what were you saying?”

“Oh, erm. Just, just what are you doing on Christmas Eve? Family plans..” his question trailed off awkwardly. Hopefully.  

“Nothing really, probably just help mum get the veg rea-”

“DoyouwanttogotothecarolserviceatSaintPaul’swithme?” It came out as one, wild word. Billy took a deep breath and readied himself to ask again when he was interrupted.

“Yes.”

He blinked in shock. “You what?”

“Yeah, I’ll go with you.”

“Oh, right, ok,” Billy began picking up and putting down various things on the table. Oranges, ribbon, clove jars, knives, entirely unsure of what to do. “Right, brilliant.”

The usual suspects: @arcielee @targaryenrealnessdarling @theoneeyedprince @ewanmitchellcrumbs @ellrond @cyeco13 @babyblue711 @exitpursuedbyavulcan @humanpurposes @myfandomprompts @barbieaemond @anjelicawrites

[starscelly]

a pleasure to ask more about the flying stars, i love hearing about it! 💚 i love the imagery of them with a long list of names they are debating for their band with only slightly mild hysteria of being up too late whether on some bighuge whiteboard or on a notes app like a baby names list before throwing their hands up, throwing a (hopefully metaphorical!) dart and introducing themselves as a different name every other night and taking audience feedback (getting a crowd of twenty something people to shout out if they prefer shooting stars or seeing stars) i think its so funny that they only realize that roope and robo go absolutely wild after they start performing 😭 five injured, microphone dead, still waiting for the crowd to pass robo back to them, divine inspiration struck for their band name at a show under an overpass and they still gotta pack their gear back up! i know you mention players as staff or assistance or a friend but are there other players involved in the scene? could be performing, could be a fan!

DEEPLY SORRY I LEFT THIS IN MY INBOX FOR SOO LONG.... forgive me. i love discussing the boys i just take forever to ruminate on my thoughts for them <3 i hope the long ass answer makes up for it omg

and oh yes at one point when theyre still figuring out the name they for Sure just start running a bit before shows "WE'RE THE [mumble unintelligible grumbling] STARS!" "hope you're excited to see the [WET COUGH] stars!" "... and with our dearest otter on the drums, WE are YOUR [loud clanging and banging from drumset] STARS!"

also hello "still waiting for the crowd to pass robo back to them" is so funny and so true. he's lost a shoe and ty is trying to drag him back to the stage but somebody has like a death grip on him and onstage otter and roope are frantically looking for something to write the name down with before they forget (miro wrote it in his notes app like the second one of them said it but he's staying quiet about it)

AND YES SO. delly harls are strictly Helping Out. delly by virtue of being otter's best friend/roommate BUT harls was like Into the punk scene!!! and really liked their sound (definitely NOTHING to do with any looks........) and befriended del who introduced him to the band etc etc so he was a fan turned roadie!

and wyatt DOES help run their merch table but he is ALSO a guitarist and singer . his stuff leans a little more like. indie rock than Heavier Punk like the flying stars play but he's a Friend of the Band (dating delly and always at his and otter's apartment because he's renting a room in Normal Dude joe pavelski's family home and is NOT bringing his boyfriend back there) and to seem more Professional they just have him perform as an opener ! because he is very good! though he honestly just ends up playing acoustic covers of popular punk/emo songs half the time the crowds are very endeared by his boyish swag.

i have ALSOOO played with the idea of him eventually Gaining Bandmates. which would probably end up being stank mav and nils! but i just havent fully decided their like. Instruments. i think one of them on keyboard would be kinda fun but grain of salt lol. i also want lian in here somewhere but i need him to get nhl time/more ahl time before i can flesh out those vibes.

AND I DONT THINK I EVER TALKED ABOUT THIS IM JUST REALIZING???? BUT MENTOR BAND!!!! disbanded mentor band but well. they all were fans of [insert tbd band name here actually maybe this is why i never talked about it] who were like. kinda on the cusp of fame? like were probably one album away from Making It before everything kinda crashed down. and it consisted of segs (vocals), klinger (guitar), esa (bass), bish (drums). their breakup was kinda messy and somewhat rooted in like. the very anti sellout culture of punk. to summarize it with like Minimal Detail (bc i would love to make a whole Thing abt it lowkey):

klinger out of nowhere is like. i have to go. there's better opportunities for me in california i know it (which was a Fucking Lie there was Drama with their manager but he didnt know how to or really want to articulate it and just wanted to get far away and his best offer was coming from california) which obviously everyone in the band IMMEDIATELY jumped on him like. what the fuck youre such a sellout we started this band as friends and youre leaving us for better opportunities?? in fucking california?? they were also all already like. on edge and stressed from the level of fame they were starting to get. so it was messy. and then him and esa had a messy breakup ofc. they're all cordial now but it lead to the immediate disbanding of the. band. because esa and tyler wanted to bring in other guitarists but bish refused to play with randos he wanted to play with his FRIENDS and it just. never worked out. so now esa tyler bish (and sometimes klinger when hes in town but . he tries to avoid being in town) spend their days working relatively normal ass jobs and going to flying stars shows and being like Don’t Be Us Don’t Go Sell Out Don’t Run From Feelings. and you know their asses are Listening to that Advice.

^ somehow that was the abbreviated version just trust me

[that-weird-skeleton-bastard]

i put Psychonauts characters into the hunger games simulator

and this is how it went

Bloodbath

Franke Athens sets Chloe Barge on fire with a molotov.

dr caligosto loboto and Vernon Tripe fight for a bag. dr caligosto loboto gives up and retreats. (bro bored him so much he just.gave up)

milla vodello falls into a frozen lake and drowns. (c'mon girl, YOURE BETTER THAN THIS-)

Benny Fideleo, Phoebe Love, and Dogen Boole work together to get as many supplies as possible.

Clem Foote is unable to convince Kitty Bubai to not kill him.

morceau oleader grabs a jar of fishing bait while Elton Fir gets fishing gear. (elton's gonna need some earplugs to not hear the poor fishes's thoughts)

lili zanotto stabs hollis forsythe in the back with a trident.

Nils Lutefisk and Milka Phage work together to drown ford crueller.

Quentin Hedgemouse shoots an arrow at Chops Sweetwind, but misses and kills J.T Hoofburger instead. (oh shit 0_0)

Elka Doom severely injures Crystal Flowers, but puts her out of her misery. (i guess she got what she asked for???)

Mikhail Bulgakov overpowers Maloof Canola, killing him. (ironic)

sasha nein finds a canteen full of water.

bobby zilch cannot handle the circumstances and commits suicide. (good riddance lmaooo)

augustus aquato falls into a pit and dies.

raz aquato grabs a backpack, not realizing it is empty.

Day 1

lili zanotto constructs a shack.

morceau oleader, Nils Lutefisk, and Kitty Bubai track down and kill Quentin Hedgemouse. (poor lil dude stood no chance TwT)

Milka Phage, Chops Sweetwind, Elka Doom, and Franke Athens form a suicide pact, killing themselves. (DAMN)

sasha nein severely injures Mikhail Bulgakov and leaves him to die. (COLD, SASHA. COLD)

Vernon Tripe injures himself. (of course he did)

Benny Fideleo overhears raz aquato and Dogen Boole talking in the distance.

Elton Fir kills Phoebe Love with a sickle.

dr caligosto loboto searches for firewood. (SOMEHOW HE'S BEING THE MOST NORMAL-)

Night 1

Nils Lutefisk tries to sing himself to sleep.

Elton Fir fends Vernon Tripe, dr caligosto loboto, and Benny Fideleo away from his fire. (cal didn't find firewood so he tried to take elton's lol)

Dogen Boole, morceau oleader, and sasha nein get into a fight. sasha nein triumphantly kills them both. (not a surprise)

Kitty Bubai throws a knife into lili zanotto's chest. (NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-)

raz aquato attempts to start a fire, but is unsuccessful. (HE'S COMPLETELY OBLIVIOUS TT0TT)

Day 2

Vernon Tripe diverts dr caligosto loboto's attention and runs away.

Elton Fir severely injures Kitty Bubai and leaves her to die.

raz aquato is pricked by thorns while picking berries.

Nils Lutefisk sees smoke rising in the distance, but decides not to investigate.

Benny Fideleo shoots a poisonous blow dart into sasha nein's neck, slowly killing him.

Night 2

Elton Fir throws a knife into Vernon Tripe's chest.

raz aquato sets an explosive off, killing dr caligosto loboto, Benny Fideleo, and Nils Lutefisk. (DAMN BOI HE FINALLY FOUND OUT ABOUT LILI AND HE'S PISSED-)

Day 3

raz aquato tries to spear fish with a trident.

Elton Fir camouflages himself in the bushes. (sNeAkY BoI~)

Night 3

Elton Fir sees a fire, but stays hidden. (sNeEeAaKy bOiIi~)

raz aquato attempts to start a fire, but is unsuccessful. (dang he sucks at starting fires other that squirrels-)

Feast

raz aquato bashes Elton Fir's head against a rock several times. (JESUS CHRIST-)

The Games have ended

❤️The winner is raz aquato!❤️

well that was fucking violent :D tell me if you want another one!

[bangtae-sohotddaeng]

tripping on skies, sipping waterfalls | k.th.

pairing: art-student!taehyung x creative-writing-student!reader 

rating: m (18+)

genre: angst | smut | fluff | humor | college!au | established relationship!au

summary: One drink too many at Hoseok’s Halloween party, and you’ve blanked out on the entire night that followed. Now, who’s gonna fill you in when Taehyung looks one second away from breaking into tears when you bring it up with him? From running across the university campus in remnants of your vampire outfit, to dealing with your downtrodden boyfriend’s disappointed stares - you’re left with one hell of a day, and zero recollections.

warnings: swearing + talks of alcohol (literally the whole tHEME of the story) + casual use of the word “amnesia” by careless college students + sexual situations (nudity, semi-public sexual acts, really explicit makeout sessions, dry-humping, lil bit breast play, lil dirty talking, fingering) + love bites galore.

word count: 19.2 k

note: so. issa a humongous beast, i know. i literally cannot fathom how i wrote these many words without posting anything in between. also, believe it or not, i fleshed out the plot for this fic all the way back in June, 2019. it's taken me nearly two years and a HELL LOTTA editing to the basic storyline to finally be able to finish this off. also, i extended this AU to include all the boys, so...kinda had to rope in their stories, too, lol. hope you enjoy this while i go slave off on the rest of the six fics~ 🥺💜

💟 YOUTH – 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

— masterlist

— feedback is always appreciated!

A knock sounded, seemingly coming from the end of a miles long tunnel. You groaned, pursing your lips against the pounding that echoed in your head in response.

Gosh, what was this? Why was your mind so freaking foggy? What did you do last n—

"Angel? Are you in there with hyung?"

You wrinkled your nose, always hating how your boyfriend's entire group of friends had taken to address you by the pet name he gave you—to the limit where you legitimately didn't always remember that "angel" wasn't your name. They said it was somewhat of a "norm" in their group that came into practice when Jin forbade them all from saying his girl's name. Or getting too friendly by calling her “noona” in a really creepy way.

You'd had eight months' experience of this idiocy now, but that didn't make you cringe any less whenever you heard the address.

You tried swallowing past the sand in your mouth, eyebrows wrinkling as you willed your brain to interpret what the voice said beyond your "name."

And then it registered.

In there? With hyung? 

What the hell?

"What? No, hyung, I can’t just rattle the knob to check—what? I might have heard some... wait. Why? What? No! Noona is—no, she's an adult, I'm sure she can make her own decisions! I’m not going to—I'm disconnecting the call, Namjoon-ssi, this is so uncomfortable!"

Your eyes fluttered open in pitch black darkness. 

Namjoon-ssi? Who was referring to your dumbheaded best friend with such respect?

Wait, wait, wait.

…noona?

Only one person called you…

"Jungkook?" you muttered, wincing at how horrible you sounded.

Releasing a deep breath, you came to the conclusion that you were dealing with a hangover. A really, really bad hangover, because your recollection of how you got to this point was nil.

Blinking, you opened your eyes wider, looking around in an attempt to catch bearings of where you were, because the overwhelming heat wrapped around your body definitely didn't remind you of your cold ass dorm room.

You squirmed, attempting to stick your feet out of the warm covers that seemed to be stifling you whole, specifically your legs and your midsection.

"Nuuuu~nghhh…"

You froze.

What the—?

The voice—well, more of a groan that you couldn't really comprehend—had come from somewhere near your rib cage. 

You pulled your arms down from where they were rested under your pillow, wincing at the soreness that'd taken residence in them. With slight shaky fingers, you reached over to where you hoped the nightstand would be. To your luck, your fingers brushed over a smooth table top before bumping into what felt like a button that could belong to a bedside lamp.

Swallowing the cotton wool lodged in your throat, you pressed down with your index and middle fingers, immediately hissing in discomfort when blinding light burned your corneas.

"Whaaa~nuuuuu…"

Something soft brushed against the underside of your boobs. Your eyes immediately snapped open wide, disregarding the killer headache that ensued. Your heart was pounding hard, fear climbing up your windpipe as you looked down.

Your naked boobs greeted your line of vision, followed by a mop of black hair.

You heaved in a huge gulp of air.

No. 

No, no, no, no, this couldn't—

Was this—

Did you—

Were you naked?

You didn't realise when your eyes had squeezed shut, but they fluttered open when a contented hum echoed around you, a small gust of warm breath brushing against your stomach.

"Uh…" You wanted to say something to the fluffy, dark hair moving around over your abdomen, but you were at a loss. 

Why was he lying over your naked body? God, was he naked, too?

What the heck had happened last night?

"Whoa." The fluffball on your abdomen moved completely, and a pair of round, pretty eyes connected with yours past your bared breasts. "What a beautiful sight to wake up to. Good morning, baby."

You involuntarily shivered at your boyfriend's gravelly morning voice. The damn pitch that was deeper than the ocean on the regular, tended to penetrate the layers of the earth itself when he woke up.

But…

Oh, God. You had only ever seen him topless. And only seen, not even touched. Or more. So, waking up to being topless and under him was making your heart beat out of your chest, and your body burn with sparks, all over.

"Um, Tae…"

"Hmm?" Plump lips connected to your skin, dragging over the sides of your breasts.

Your breathing was immediately unsteady even when your eyes widened in alarm. "T—Tae, wait…" You swallowed thickly when he climbed up your body and set his hands on the bed next to your pillow, his face hovering inches above yours.

You breathed in, preparing to speak past the bundle of nerves in your throat, and—froze. 

A corner of your lips twitched.

His eyes were surrounded by huge pools of black, that you could now recall was eyeliner that you'd meticulously applied on him, last evening. The bright red lipstick he'd gone for in order to finish off his vampire look, was now smudged all the way down to his chin. 

Despite the killer throbbing in your head and your panic at your state of undress, you couldn't hold back a fit of laughter at the sight. "Tae, baby—your makeup…" You managed to mumble between bouts of uncontrollable giggles.

Taehyung just grinned at you, shaking his head in silent humor. "As if you're any better. Ooh, look at this!" His eyes suddenly widened, focusing on your neck. "Your neck looks like you got attacked by a vampire, baby."

You smacked his chest with a harrumph, ignoring the warm, firm feel of it, rolling your eyes when he broke into laughter. "Pretty sure you were the one that did it, smartass."

"Well. I don't see a problem with it. We were supposed to be vampire mates, after all." Flashing you a smirk that would've been a lot more irresistible to you if it weren't for all the smudged lipstick on his face, Taehyung rolled off your body to sit at the edge of the bed. "This headache, though… ugh…" He groaned, massaging his forehead with a hand. "How much did we have to drink, Angel?

You slowly sat up in bed, dragging the sheets to cover yourself all the way up to your neck. Your brows furrowed in concern. How much did you have to drink, for real? The way you couldn't seem to recall literally anything from the party last night was kind of a sign that it had gone beyond your limits.

Clearing your throat in nervousness, you lifted the edge of the sheet to take a peek at yourself, breathing a tiny sigh of relief on finding your panties still wrapped around your hips. So at least you hadn't gone all the way, right?

Right?

"Hey, Tae," you called out, stopping your boyfriend on his way to the bathroom. He was clad only in a pair of boxers that accentuated his plump butt, which was also a first time experience for you, but you figured that it was better than nothing. "We, uh, what did we do last night?"

Taehyung looked at you over his shoulder, brows slightly creased in confusion. "What? We went to Hobi hyung's Halloween party, baby, dressed as vampires. Hence the makeup…?"

You shook your head, gulping down your nerves. Taehyung had completely turned around to look at you, now, arms crossed against his bare chest. In spite of the ridiculously smudged makeup on his face, he made a damn appealing sight. You willed your gaze to not stray down to his sculpted thighs for the sake of your own sanity.

"Angel?"

"I—I mean...after," you mumbled with flaming cheeks. 

Your asshole of a boyfriend grinned wickedly at that, moving his hands to place them on his hips. "Uh huh. After, baby? What do you think?" He gave you an exaggerated wink.

You looked down at your fingernails, your entire body almost shivering out of nervousness and each one of your nerve endings inducing sparks all across your body. You were pretty sure you were blushing all the way from your ears, down to your chest.

Soft thumps of feet padding across the floor echoed around the room. You felt his warmth near you before his fingers tapped beneath your chin, prompting you to look up.

You did, eyes widened and breathing halted.

Taehyung's brows were lowered and lips pursed together as he looked at you with soft, concerned eyes. "Do you…do you not remember anything?"

The hesitation in his voice almost caused your heart to stop beating. Why was he being like this? Had the two of you actually done it, last night?

And…you didn't even remember anything?

"Angel?"

"Oh, God, Taehyung! Why do I not remember?" you suddenly cried out. 

"Hey, hey, baby, it's okay!"

What? No, it wasn't.

You'd had sex with your boyfriend for the first ever time after eight months of dating, four out of which you'd spent dreaming extremely lewd and inappropriate dreams about him, and now―and now you didn't remember it!

"I'll go take a shower, and then we can talk about last night. Okay, baby? Hey, look at me," Taehyung softly spoke to you, carding long, elegant fingers of one of his hands through your hair. He cupped your cheek with the other. "Don't worry, Angel, you're just hungover right now. I'm sure it'll all come back once your head's feeling better."

You swallowed thickly, kinda pissed at yourself for feeling so emotional about this, but kinda more pissed at your drunk self for doing the do with the love of your life when she knew she was too far gone to retain the memories.

"I love you, baby," said love of your life murmured to you, leaning in to peck your forehead softly.

"Love you too, baby," you mumbled back, watching, from the corner of your eye, as his shapely ass made its way down the room and into the bathroom.

You exhaled, loudly. Even though you loved him beyond measure and trusted him completely, you didn't wanna talk to Taehyung, right now. He remembered everything from last night, and the torn, hesitant, kinda hurt look in his eyes made you feel insecure and disadvantaged.

You knew you had to cure your hangover first, vent out about how dumb you felt, and have someone reassure you that forgetting about your first time with your boyfriend wasn't the end of the world, before having that conversation with Taehyung.

And you also knew how you were gonna accomplish that.

You needed your best friend.

You’d already pounded on the door like crazy twice by the time you first heard movement from inside. What the hell was Namjoon busy with now? Hadn't he called Jungkook up just a while earlier, causing the boy to wake you up?

It was one o'clock on a Sunday morning, anyway. There was no way someone like Namjoon was busy.

Wait. Hadn’t he been at the party last night, too? You couldn’t really recall, to be honest.

God, what was Hobi serving last night? 

Tapping your feet impatiently, you scratched at your cheek. The water base, super dry moisturiser you’d stolen from your boyfriend’s roommate was definitely not meant to suit your skin type. But you had no choice. You were in a crisis. You had needed to escape the dorm before Taehyung came out of the bathroom, and you couldn’t have exactly walked out with the remnants of last night’s vampire makeup all over your face.

You looked down at your ridiculous attire consisting of the leather shorts you wore last night, topped with a huge, off white sweatshirt you'd found lying over the living room couches. You guessed it was Taehyung's, but you were, embarrassingly, not completely certain and it very well could have been Jungkook's. Either way, it didn't really matter, ’cause, as mentioned before, you were in a freaking crisis. Your feet were wrapped up in the spare pair of bathroom slippers you kept at Tae's.

Exhaling loudly, you pulled up your arm to bang heavily against the damn door, again. "Where the fuck are you, Namjoon? Open up!"

Mere seconds later, grumbles seeped through the door to you, and then it was slowly unbolted.

You were gonna straight up fall into Namjoon and legit beg him to comfort you until your body melted—

"Well, hello there, sexy cheeks! What a pleasant surprise!"

You groaned aloud. Just what you needed to make this morning a bigger headache—your best friend's roadside romeo, can-never-keep-it-in-his-pants, creep of a roommate. "Jackson. Get the fuck out of my w—"

"And, FYI, I was referring to your ass cheeks."

You gritted your teeth. "Where's Joon?"

The cocky guy in front of you shifted to set his hips against the doorjamb. "Sleeping. He came in late, last night. That damned loser was at the party till two am on a Saturday night, and didn’t even bring a girl back home. What a fucking waste."

You squinted at him. "Bullshit. He called Jungkook earlier."

"Yeah, well, he went back to sleep after that. It's Sunday, sexy cheeks, even a nerd like Joon is allowed to sleep in today. He's been working his ass off at the library for a couple nights, anyway."

"Stop stereotyping him." You rolled your eyes. "Will you move?"

Jackson's silver blonde hair moved across his forehead as he tilted his head to look at you with a sly grin. "What if I refuse?"

"I'll stab you and walk over your body."

His eyes momentarily widened, but then he gave a nervous giggle. "O–oh? We won't want that to happen now, would we? Come on in, sexy cheeks!"

"Stop calling me that!" you snapped, walking into the dorm and heading straight towards Namjoon's bedroom.

"What? But that's my pet name for you! I don't wanna call you Angel like the rest of the fucking college!"

"It's just seven guys, Wang, jeez. Also, I actually have a name?" you yelled over your shoulder, fiddling with the awful door knob on Namjoon's bedroom door that was almost always jammed. Like it was right now. Good God!

"Your name? That's so mainstream, babe, have some respect for my vibe, at the very least."

"I'm not your babe!"

"But you could be!"

"I'll slap you, Jackson, shut the—" you broke off with a grunt as the doorknob finally twisted free. But your relief had a super short life, because then you had to nearly cause your shoulder to rupture when you tried to get the door to budge. "Why does this idiot not complain about getting this shitty fucking door changed? He'll get stuck in there someday and die, I'm telling you."

"Whoa. You're contemplating way too many murders for a Sunday morning, sexy cheeks. All okay?"

You shot him a glare over your shoulder. "You want me to actually commit one of them?"

Jackson's eyes widened and he slowly retracted his steps to the kitchen, where he presumably was before he came to open the door, given the apron he'd tied over his muscle tee and the random patches of white powder that covered his exposed upper arms. You rolled your eyes once again, and gave a particularly hard push to the door, making yourself stumble in as the door suddenly opened.

Namjoon stood on the other side, though, eyes barely open and silver blonde hair mussed. 

He was shirtless, in the process of trying to unwind a twisted up t-shirt. "Whoa, whoa—hol' up—when did I say you could come in?"

You paused. Your eyebrows lowered. Your eyes narrowed. The audacity?!

"I've seen you pantless, Namjoon," you deadpanned. 

"Wha—is that even a word—"

"Dude, I've seen your penis when it wasn't as big as my pinky toe!"

"Okay, hang on now, it's got to be at least the pinky finger—"

"We were four. It was the pinky toe." You exhaled when Namjoon gave up and went back to getting into a t-shirt over his plaid shorts. "Are you not looking at me, right now? Do you not see what kind of a wreck I am? What sort of a best friend are you?"

"Uh, a sleep deprived one? And, for the record, I actually am not looking at you, 'cause my eyes aren't exactly open and functioning at the moment, anyway."

You shot him a glare, but then exhaled and slumped down on his bed with your shoulders drooped. "I fucked up, Joonie."

Namjoon stopped in the process of blindly hunting for his glasses in the top drawer of his nightstand. He looked at you, complete with his swollen ass eyes and bee stung lips. You would have laughed if your own tragedy wasn't laughable in itself.

"Stop gawking!"

Namjoon shut his mouth and straightened up. "I, uh… You fucked up? Kinda hard to swallow. You're an inspiration to everyone, babe. Angel never fucks up."

You groaned a little upon hearing the wretched "pet name" tumble so smoothly from your best friend's lips. "Angel? Really, Joon?"

Namjoon shrugged, standing on his toes and extending his arms above his head in a full body stretch before he settled on the twin bed next to you. "I've got to, hun. You know how Jin hyung gets when he hears any of us call you anything but Angel."

"He's not here right now, though, is he?"

"Well, I'm trying to practice." He shrugged a shoulder. "So, are you here to pointlessly argue with me, or are you here to discuss how, exactly, did you fuck up? You were with Tae last night from what I gathered out of Jungkook's flustered half-sentences. Did something happen between you guys?"

"Yes?" You grimaced. And then you thickly swallowed. "I… I had sex with Taehyung.”

You looked at him when Namjoon had been silent for too long. He was blinking at you. "I don't see any fucking up happening, Angel, only fucking Tae."

Oh, how you'd slap him into the next galaxy if you had the energy at the moment. "Kim Namjoon, I swear to God—"

"Okay, okay, sorry. So. How does having sex with your boyfriend equate to fucking up? What'd I miss?"

You sighed. "I was completely hammered, and don't remember a single thing."

Namjoon's eyebrows rose very slowly. "Wait…what?"

You frowned. "Don't make me repeat it, Joon."

"I'm not, girl, but. Just. I—I don't seem to comprehend."

"I had sex with him for the first fucking time, Namjoon, and I don't remember a single detail! You know, I wanted to know how it all went down, how intense, sexy and gorgeous he looked on top of me. I wanted to save it to my memory. If he was on top. Otherwise, what he looked like when desperate and begging below me."

"Wait—"

"But I remember nothing! I'm so embarrassed, Joon! Maybe he put those gorgeous ass fingers of his to good use. I bet he did!"

"Hey—"

"I don't even know if he ate me out or if I sucked him off, because I would have loved to, before we—"

"Holy fuck, stop! I don’t wanna hear that, gross!" Namjoon pressed both his palms against his ears, his face pulled into an expression of utter disgust. His mouth opened, probably to give you a piece of scolding, but then his gaze dropped to your exposed collarbones and his eyebrows raised. He removed his hands with wide eyes. "Now, I don’t know about those dirty freaking details, and I don’t want to—but I can guess that your night was definitely passionate. Maybe a bit rough."

You frowned, following his line of sight—

And then sprung to your feet with a loud gasp. "Holy fucking shit! What the hell—"

"Whoa—"

You gripped the neckline of the hoodie and tugged it away from your chest. "He left bruises, Joon, these aren't just bites!"

"Wait, wait—"

"God damn—" You struggled to wrestle the hoodie off your body.

"No—"

"I need to fucking see, Joon—"

"But I don't!" Namjoon squeaked. 

You managed to remove the hoodie completely, your hands busy patting around your boobs to feel for bruises. You looked up at your best friend to find him turned away with both his palms pressed up against his eyes.

It took you a moment to realise that he was throwing a fit about you being topless in front of him. You exhaled. "Must I remind you that you've seen me pantless, too, Joon?"

"We were kids! And now we're not! I don't wanna pop a boner for my childhood best friend that I've shared poops with!"

You grimaced. "You won't, Joon. It's as you said—we've shared poops. It's physically impossible for us to get turned on by each other."

"I'm still a straight guy, though, and boobs are boobs."

You clicked your tongue, choosing to walk into his bathroom to, partially, save him from dying out of panic, but mostly analyse your upper body in the mirror. 

You hummed to yourself when you found a blossoming patch of pink right under your left boob, and an almost navy spot above your right nipple.

You fought a whimper of despair. Sex with Taehyung seemed like something that’d get you wet by memories alone. But you'd already missed your first chance to make them.

You grumpily stomped back to Namjoon's bed and collected the hoodie you'd tossed on it. Pulling it over, you smacked a turned away Namjoon upside his head. "I'm dressed, loser."

"Not wanting to see your boobs makes me a loser?"

"Making a big fucking deal out of it while I'm stuck in a very embarrassing and kind of an impossible situation does!"

“Oh my God, fine! Let’s just talk about that stupid, overthinking brain of yours.”

Your mouth falls open. “The fuck? I’m not overthinking, Joon, for the love of—”

“Okay! Just—stop with all the cursing, you sound like Yoongi hyung!” Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s get the basics down, then. Observe, analyse and calculate. You’ll tell me about how you feel in certain...areas of your body, and then we’ll conclude if any sex even actually happened or if you’re fussing over nothing. ’Kay?”

You dumbly blinked. If any sex even actually happened? You didn’t need any testing for that, Taehyung’s face had been more than enough to tell you. “No?” you sneered at Namjoon. “I know it happened. I need to know how to recall the details. Do you know, like, some brain exercise or something? Like, running a mental disk defragmenter of sorts?”

Namjoon sighed. “Listen—”

“Also, can you please dye your hair and stop twinning with the asshole next door? I feel like I’m talking to him and it makes me wanna puke.”

Namjoon sighed again. “He’s gonna dye his hair to match mine like he always does, it’s pointless.”

“Then shave it off.”

“Ouch, woman.”

“What?” You scowled at him, rummaging through his wardrobe to try and make yourself slightly more presentable. “And get ready. We’re gonna go get some breakfast. Greasy and cheesy. And you’re gonna tell me what to do. And I’m calling Munchkin to join us.”

As you carried a pair of sweatpants into the bathroom, you heard your best friend murmur something like, “this is gonna be a long day.”

Taehyung sat sprawled all over the living room couch, barely looking up when Jungkook's room's door opened. His eyes kept digging holes into your phone that you'd left behind when you made your—very obviously hurried—exit while he was in the shower. Why, though?

Taehyung was fucking confuddled.

"Oh, finally!" Jungkook's surprised voice floated over to him moments before the boy himself rounded the couch to look down at him, entering his peripheral vision with a water bottle in hands. "Where's noona? Tell her to call Namjoon hyung, he rang me up…worrying…about her…um. Hyung? You okay?"

Taehyung blinked, raising his brows as he hummed in question, refocusing his gaze on the younger boy. "What?"

"Did you, uh, hear anything I said?" Jungkook looked at him cautiously, taking wary sips of water.

"Yeah, I heard." Taehyung looked down at his hands. "She's not here, she left."

"Left? On her own? You didn’t drop her off?" Jungkook sounded innocently curious. He chuckled. "You still hungover, or what?"

Taehyung sighed. "Well, no. But she didn't ask me to drop her. Didn't even tell me she was leaving. Also left her phone behind, for some reason."

"Maybe she was in a hurry to get away from you after last night?" Jungkook's eyes were wide in alarm even before Taehyung shot him a glare. "Sorry, I didn't… Um. That was a stupid joke, I don’t even know why I said that when I don't even know anything. Um. Sorry."

"No, you're probably right," Taehyung regretfully mumbled, raking a hand through his hair. "She was gone within five minutes."

"And is that why she stole my hoodie, too?"

Taehyung's head snapped up, again. What did he mean by that? He found Jungkook frowning at one of the armrests of the couch. "The fuck did you say?"

Jungkook's big, innocent eyes looked at him in panic. "I—I mean, I left it here after I spilt ketchup on it! Remember yesterday's lunch burgers? And now it's…well. Not here."

Taehyung rolled his eyes, secretly exhaling in relief, while at the same time annoyed at himself for thinking stupid shit. And also at Jungkook for making him think it. "The hell, Kook? How does that mean she took it?"

Jungkook squinted at him. "Okay, so then did you take it? Because I sure as heck didn't touch it, hyung."

Taehyung stilled, realising that the boy was probably right, because the top you'd worn last night was still lying on his bedroom floor. He bit his lip. Had you actually been in such a hurry to get away? Get away from him?

Did you…hate him for last night? But you'd very clearly reassured him that you wanted it and were ready and you looked actually excited about it. 

You’d looked really excited about it.

But maybe you were too sloshed to think then, but were trying to avoid him with your mind sober. Maybe you regretted agreeing.

Oh no. Oh no.

"We were drunk off our asses, last night," he tried to fruitlessly dissuade Jungkook, his voice coming out tight. Because what did it even matter if you'd already changed your mind? "Maybe your drunk ass used it to clean up your whizz and then threw it out your window and forgot?"

Jungkook's gaze turned even more speculative. 

Taehyung looked away, eyes landing back on your phone. Distress gripped him.

"Um."

Taehyung rolled his eyes. "Say it."

Jungkook cleared his throat, awkwardly scratching the back of his head when Taehyung looked up to meet his shifty eyes. "Did you, uh. Did you and noona have a fight?"

Taehyung slunk lower in his place. "No, but we would now."

Jungkook cleared his throat in response before soundly gulping down water.

Taehyung almost laughed at his discomfort. The younger probably felt Taehyung needed some sort of counseling or suggestions, but he really didn't. And it wasn't just because he and Jungkook were not the best of friends despite being roommates for nearly a year now and part of the same group of friends for nearly six. No, he actually did not want it because that would make him worry that much more. He'd rather talk to you—apologize to you and try to make you understand as much as he'd be able to—whenever you decided to contact him.

Not that Jungkook would be good at consoling him, either way—the boy was horrible with words and had zero tact. His world revolved around gaming and studying music and minimal human interaction, a complete contrast to everything Taehyung was. Which was somewhat of a reason why they worked out so well as roommates.

"Uh…we…um. Nevermind." Jungkook turned to leave.

Taehyung mustered a chuckle. "Say it, Kook." 

"Do you wanna go to Jin hyung's?" he spoke in a single breath.

Jin—the oldest in their group of friends and also the one Taehyung was the closest to—lived in a four bedroom apartment shared by Yoongi, Hoseok and Jimin, and often, Jin's girlfriend, too, which was owned by a family member of Hoseok's. Namjoon, your best friend and the final member of the group, lived in a dorm on the other side of the campus, similar to Taehyung's own, with a school friend of his.

Now. Jungkook, being the youngest of the entire lot, was extremely insecure and conscious of himself around Jin. And so, despite nearly licking the very ground Yoongi walked on due to the guy's musical prowess that Jungkook was a fan of, the younger boy always tried to avoid visiting the house if not for extreme case scenarios when the entire group gathered there for activities that he was not allowed to skip. He usually just called Yoongi over.

And he was suggesting they visit? This had to have taken some guts.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow at him. "You wanna go to that house?"

"Well, not really." Jungkook's cheeks tinged pink. "But you look like you could use Jin hyung's advice and stuff. He also, um, makes yummy hot chocolate. Jimin hyung and Hobi hyung could cheer you up, and. Um. Yoongi hyung could help me with my…semester project?"

"And here I thought you were being thoughtful!" Taehyung let out a laugh. “You just want Yoongi hyung’s help, you selfish brat.”

Jungkook ducked his head. “A little bit of both?” He clicked his tongue, whining. "Come on, hyung, I'm trying here!"

"I know, I know." Taehyung rolled his eyes but nodded, ending Jungkook's misery.

He eyed your phone and released a shaking, nervous breath. 

“Well, I'm sort of driving myself nuts by sitting here. Let’s just go.”

“This is a disaster.”

You thumped your head against the table, groaning. “Gee, thanks, babe. Makes me feel so much better. I should’ve just gone back to the dorm. Wendy would’ve given me ice cream, at least.”

Your other only-best-friend-in-this-world—other than Namjoon, that is—rolled her mascara laden eyes. “It’s not my duty to make you feel better. I’m here to show you the mirror and be honest, not give you ice cream and kiss your boo-boos like your pussy roommate. That’s not helping. That’s ignoring the problem.”

“Fair point.” You sat up and looked down in your lap. “So. Do you honestly think I’m doomed?”

“I honestly think you’re stupid.”

You shot a glare at her.

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing! You yourself said you both had your lower regions covered, right?” At your nod, she clicked her tongue. “So you’re not even sure if you had sex, in the first place. And even if you did, so what? He’s your freaking boyfriend, bitch! Grab him and do the do whenever!”

“Will you tone it down?” 

You jumped. And then scoffed when Namjoon settled on the empty chair on your other side, putting the tray of your frothing, steaming beverages down between you three.

"Tell me why you nicknamed this one munchkin and not guerrilla, again?" Namjoon grumbled, scowling at your girl best friend. "She's got their lung capacity."

"Because she's got munchkin legs," you mumbled, hurriedly bringing the styrofoam cup to your mouth to taste nirvana. “Ah, this is so good! And she walks super slow, like a freakin’ munchkin.”

"Oh, so that's also an insult?" Namjoon looked at your best friend with gleaming eyes. "I thought it was a pet name!"

Her eyes narrowed at Namjoon for a second, before her expressions dropped into a lascivious smile. "You thought it was cute, didn't you?" she dramatically batted her lashes, leaning closer to Namjoon, pushing her voluminous chest out. “You think I’m cute too, dontcha, Joon bug?”

Namjoon, immune to her dramatic, completely unnecessary seduction, blew a raspberry in her face. 

“Ew, you animal!” she shrieked, flinching away as droplets of spit rained on her face. “Gross!”

“You asked for it,” Namjoon deadpanned, sipping from his cup. 

“Guys,” you began. “Can we please talk about what I should do?”

“Uh, can I please also mention what you should not have done?” Munchkin squinted at you. At your noncommittal shrug, her expressions morphed into a sharp glare. “Sneak out. I mean, he’s your damn boyfriend of nearly quarter of a year, babe! Why the hell would you want to confide in Captain Dumbass, over here, and not him?”

“My IQ’s greater than you, but other than that—valid point, dude.” Namjoon turned to stare you down. “When it all winds down, and you end up sorting it out, he’s still gonna be hurt that you ran away, man.”

You bit your lip. You hadn’t thought of it that way. “I forgot my phone at his place, too, so I couldn’t even text him.”

This time Munchkin turned her horrified gaze at Namjoon, and Namjoon at you. “What?” he squeaked. “You haven’t even texted him this entire time? Why didn’t you ask for my phone?”

“It’s almost three,” Munchkin mumbled. “He’s gonna be so pissed.” Her eyes suddenly turned wicked. “Imagine the angry sex.”

You snorted, bitterly. “How? I got fucking amnesia after our first time together, remember? I don’t even know what to imagine.”

Your best friends groaned in unison.

The second Hoseok invited them in, Jungkook went off like an arrow towards the direction of Yoongi's room.

Taehyung gave a dry chuckle, raising his eyebrows at Hoseok’s puffy eyes as he waved his hand before the guy’s face in greeting. “Good morning, hyung!” he said with fake cheeriness to grate on the elder’s nerves. 

Hoseok gave him the most venomous scowl Taehyung had ever seen on the guy’s face and walked away.

“He was cleaning up till six am and then Jin hyung woke him up at nine to go grocery shopping!” Jimin called from his slump on the couch, past the entry hall. “Poor guy didn’t even get to get his dick wet in his own party.”

“Of course you’d mention that,” Taheyung snorted, moving to join Jimin in what seemed like a Netflix marathon. “What’s this?” He nodded towards the 50-inch.

“Pretty Little Liars,” Jimin mumbled, lifting his feet enough to make room for Taehyung and then rested them back in his lap. “It’s a story of some girls. Who lie. Because that is all that girls fucking do, apparently.”

Taehyung, despite his mental disposition, found himself snorting in amusement for the second time. “Where’s Jin hyung?”

“Dropping noona off at Jackson’s. They’re in a fight, so don’t ask him about her.” Jimin raised a brow. “All okay?”

“They're fighting? How're you handling it?" Taehyung teased, well aware of Jimin's fear of conflicts between the group's oldest couple, and got a glare back. "And, not all's okay. Kinda had a shitty night.”

“Could not have been shittier than mine. You came in with your babe, made out in every corner of the house, held her when she did a keg stand, leftmaking out—what could go wrong?”

Taehyung grimaced but didn’t protest. “When did Jin hyung leave? I didn’t see him on my way over. Why’s Honey noona even friends with that pretentious jackass Jackson, nobody likes him,” he chose to comment on Jin’s girlfriend’s questionable life choices, instead.

“Nobody but Namjoon. Don’t forget they live together. And he and noona are family friends, you know that.” Jimin frowned. “Why’re you so eager to see Jin hyung? He didn’t really say when he’d get back. Maybe he and Honey noona are…making-up. If you know what I mean. I sincerely hope they are,” he added with a despaired stare skywards as if tossing a prayer up to God.

“Shut up, pervert. I'll just text him.” Taehyung waved a dismissive hand, pulling out his phone.

Jimin cleared his throat. “At least ask me why my night was shittier, you ass.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes, shooting Jimin a flat look. “You didn’t get laid, I already know it.”

“Well, that, yes. But also, the circumstances leading up to me not getting laid? Ugh.” Jimin scrunched his nose. “So there’s this cute, little, busty babe, okay? Shaking her boobs up in my face, and I know she wants to fuck, but. I can see how sloshed she is, so I, you know? Hold back.”

Taehyung raised his eyebrows, still typing away on his phone. “Doubt that.”

“I did, okay? Wait till you hear the rest of it.” Jimin’s head dangled off the armrest, upside down and Taehyung could only see his neck as he spoke. “She comes on too strong, and at one point—I can’t resist. But when she’s on her knees, she’s so confused that I… man, I felt so bad. She was wasted, dude!” Jimin pulled himself back up, nestling his head against the armrest as he frowned at Taehyung. “So I tell her no. She cries. I try to comfort her, but she just keeps sobbing. And then she fucking throws up all over my carpet and—I still fucking try to take care of her. And, you know, after I’ve given her hugs and a water bottle and so much pep talk—her phone rings and she says she has to go. Now, get this.” Jimin sits up, now scowling at Taehyung. “She has a fucking boyfriend.”

Taehyung couldn’t hold back the laughter that burst out of him, his head rolling back against the back of the couch as he held his stomach. Just the one time in his life Jimin tried to be a gentleman, it backfired. But it served Jimin right for trying to get into everyone’s pants. He told the guy as much.

Jimin scoffed. “I don’t try to get into everyone’s pants, dude. I’ve never tried to turn the charm on you, have I?”

“’Cause you know you’d fail.”

“I would not and you better believe that, Kim Taehyung.” Jimin suddenly licked his lips and sat up to get into Taehyung's personal space. “You see these lips? They—”

“Yah, Park Jimin! Get your paws off my dongsaeng!” Jin entered the house with a booming yell.

Taehyung sighed in relief, grateful for more reasons than one. “Morning, hyung!”

“It’s afternoon, brat!”

“I thought he was your dongsaeng?” Jimin mocked. “And for the record, he’s mine, too.”

“I’m barely three months younger, Jimin, fuck off.”

“Tae! Leave this idiot be and go wait in my room. I’ll join you in a bit.”

Taehyung stood up to locate Jin to find the older one heating something up in the microwave, aggressively pushing things around. It was a strange sight. Jin’s temperament was always cooler than a cucumber. And he especially tended to his kitchen appliances and utensils with an impossibly tender hand. He was clearly agitated, completely unlike how he normally was. Was his fight with his girlfriend that bad? 

As if sensing his gaze, Jin looked up, concern shining in his eyes when they met Taehyung’s. Taehyung imagined his own must have reflected it back. “You okay, hyung?”

Jin sighed. “Been better,” he tiredly mumbled, running a hand down his face. “I saw your texts. I gather you haven’t eaten?”

Taehyung nodded, silently, walking around the couch to join the older in the kitchen. Settling on a stool, he observed Jin's furrowed eyebrows and set jaw. Something had to have happened recently, or he'd have noticed something in Jin's behaviour earlier.

“I haven’t eaten either, hyung,” Jimin yelled from the living room, sounding offended instead of whiny or seductive, for once. “This sort of favoritism is too much, even for you.”

Jin narrowed his eyes at Jimin. “You know, every time Honey ignores me, I'm immediately reminded of how you could have taken that blonde to your own room, Park Jimin. So no, the favouritism isn't too much. And for the record, you’re more than capable of feeding yourself. This one? Not so much, right now.”

Taehyung hung his head, curious about what all Jin just said to Jimin, but also immensely floored by Jin’s concern for his own well being. Despite clearly not being in the right state of mind himself, he was still caring for Taehyung. He mentally thanked Jungkook for bringing him here.

Clearing his throat, Taehyung placed his hands on the kitchen counter. “When I didn't see Honey-noona at the party last night, I thought it was work related. You two often skip parties to catch up on your beauty sleep and all that. Is something the matter, hyung?"

Jin extracted some sort of noodles from the microwave and shut his eyes. "She's mad at me."

Taehyung's eyebrows rose. Jin and his girl had been together for over five years, now. They were past the stages of fighting over petty things. It had to be serious. "Oh?"

"And it was triggered by something that idiot did!" Jin finished, pointing an accusatory finger at Jimin.

The latter clicked his tongue. "For the last time, hyung," Jimin called out, sounding exasperated, "she’s mad over something else. The sooner you figure that out instead of blaming me every time you meet her, the faster your fight would be resolved.” He peeked at Jin over the couch's back. "And can you please make a quick work of it? I hate this phase…"

Taehyung’s eyebrows lifted up. Escaping the blame—classic Jimin. “What, exactly, did you do, Jimin? What blonde didn’t you take to your own room?” he asked, repeating Jin’s words from earlier.

“Irrelevant. He’s actually correct,” Jin interrupted, walking out of the kitchen. “You'll understand when I tell you. But right now, let’s talk about your problem. Come on.”

Although Taehyung was both curious and worried about Jin’s fight, he was more downtrodden due to his own situation at the moment, so he decided to follow the older boy upstairs, to Jin's room.

On entering the room, Taehyung slumped into Jin’s armchair while the man himself turned on the lights and made his way towards Taehyung with a water bottle and a huge bowl of reheated chicken noodles in hands.

Taehyung uncapped the bottle as soon as it was handed to him, not realising how badly parched all the worrying had gotten him. 

“I, uh, went to the shop you texted me. Have you guys really talked it through?”

Taehyung’s head snapped up. “What?” he asked, swallowing a huge gulp of water.

Jin cracked a smile for the first time. “One of the thirteen texts you sent me was about this shop, remember? It was on the way, so I dropped by to look around, but I couldn't really choose—”

Taehyung’s phone rang, interrupting Jin. It was Namjoon. They both frowned.

What if the guy was still calling to ask about you, like he did this morning? Taehyung had assumed that you’d have talked to Namjoon, at least. His eyes widened when it hit him — you’d left your phone behind, how would you contact anybody?

He looked at Jin. Jin crossed his arms in front of his chest, gesturing to the phone with his eyes. “Pick it up.”

With sweaty hands, Taehyung picked up. “Hey, Joon hyung.”

Silence. He frowned.

“Hello?”

More silence. And then a hushed, indecipherable whisper sounded in the background which was followed by what sounded like a slap. Taehyung’s breath hitched.

“Angel?”

A sharp intake of breath filtered through the speakers to him. But then nothing else.

“Whe—” He cleared his throat when his voice broke. “Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Tae.” Your voice was light, airy, almost like a whisper, but it managed to weigh down on his heart. “I’m okay.”

Of course, you were. You’d chosen to see Namjoon, apparently. Why wouldn’t you be okay?

“I—I’m sorry for leaving like…that. I hope you didn’t take it the wrong way.”

Taehyung was at a loss. “Wrong way? Angel, I…” He exhaled, shutting his eyes. In what way had he taken it? In what way was he supposed to take it? “Why did you leave, baby?”

No response. Taehyung’s heart seemed to keep on sinking.

“When can I see you again? We need to talk about last night. You know that, right?” He licked his lips and looked up at Jin. At the elder’s nod, he continued, “we need to finalize what we discussed. You get me?”

“I’ll see you tonight, Tae.” Your voice sounded tightly wound with emotions.

Taehyung took that as a good sign. “That’s great. I’ll be…I, uh. Just text me when you get to the dorm. Your phone’s on the coffee table. I’m at Jin hyung’s, I’ll come immediately.”

“Okay, I’ll do that. Um. Tae? I love you.”

Taehyung could breathe again. “I love you, too, Angel. I love you so much.”

He’d barely disconnected the call when Jin grabbed him by the shoulders. “Get some food in you and come with me. I went to the shop, but couldn’t really make the right purchase. You’ll have to do that yourself.”

Taehyung’s eyes widened. “But I already told her to come see me! You nodded!”

Jin rolled his eyes, taking a spoonful of noodles and stuffing them into Taehyung’s mouth that was hung open in surprise. “Because we have plenty of time, genius! It’s three in the afternoon. We’d be able to make it back before six, at any cost. Don’t worry about it.”

Taehyung took the bowl of food from him, his appetite announcing itself as soon as a bite of savoury deliciousness touched his tongue. Stuffing his face, he nodded at his phone. “Could you please put that to charge? It’s almost dead.”

And then he smiled to himself. He was gonna make everything right, tonight.

“I’m pretty sure five o’clock doesn’t count as ‘night’ in any culture across the globe.”

You ignored Munchkin’s sarcastic remark as you stepped out of the car, and gave Namjoon a grateful peck on his cheek. “Thank you for bringing me here, Joon.”

“Great. Ignore me and then cry when there’re consequences.”

Waving a butterfly wave at a fuming Munchkin and a chuckling Namjoon, you stepped into Taehyung’s dorm building. You knew you were early, but your nerves didn’t allow you to sit still at Namjoon’s place. You didn’t dare go back to your own dorm, knowing how chaotic Wendy tended to get and not able to muster the energy you usually needed to deal with her.

Taehyung lived in the larger, spacier and definitely pricier North Dorms. They were more like mini-apartments, with individual rooms and a living room area along with a whole kitchen instead of the tiny kitchenette you had with your own South Dorms. Namjoon lived in the East Dorms, similar in design to these, but in a wackier condition and slightly less pricey.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door. You would take your phone, text Taehyung to inform him of your arrival, have a glass of water, and patiently wait. Jungkook wasn’t much of a talker, anyway, so you’d have some time to yourself before Taehyung for here, which you planned to utilise by giving yourself mental pep talks. 

You were gonna come clean to your boyfriend and tell him that you remembered none of last night, profusely apologise for panicking and running out on him, and then, if the mood allowed for it, request him to give you a refresher that you’d be sure to memorise properly, this time.

The door was opened. Jungkook immediately jumped, eyes nearly popping out of their sockets when he saw you. “Oh, my God!”

You gave him a tight lipped smile. “Hey, Jungkook. May I come in?”

He gaped at you for a few more seconds before shaking his head as if to break his shock induced trance. “Ye—uh. I mean, yes, you could, but hyung’s not home.”

You nodded. “I know.”

Just as you’d made to move ahead, Jungkook stopped you. His eyebrows were arched. “Unless, you don’t wanna see him and are here to grab your things—in which case, I really won’t let you in.”

You frowned. “What? No, I need to get my phone so that—”

“Absolutely not!” Jungkook blocked the door with an arm. “You’ve got to talk to hyung once before making any rash decisions, and I won’t—”

“Wait, what? Rash decisions?”

“—might be a bit young and inexperienced, but I will not be an accomplice in the ploy to get Tae hyung’s heart broken—”

“Heart broken?” You balked at him while Jungkook kept on spewing stuff that made absolutely no sense to you. “Jungkook?”

“—no clue what actually happened, but because you really should’ve stayed to talk instead of running away from hyung—”

“Jungkook!”

“—not been emotional, but this really kind of hurt me, too, and you have no idea how much hyung was—”

“For fucks sake, Jungkook!” You held the guy with both his shoulders, making him immediately shut up. “Are you even listening to me? Stop speaking!” 

He blinked. “Um—”

“Stop!” You held a finger in front of his face. “Zip it up. Zero noise. Absolute silence.”

At his nod, you retracted your hands and pushed past him to enter the dorm. Collapsing onto the couch, you picked up your phone which was kept on the coffee table—just as Tae had told you it would be—and opened your chat box with him.

Tae❤ hey babe, im here ik im a bit early but dw, take your time i will wait i love u 🥺

SENT at 17:03

“I have come to talk to Tae and apologize, Jungkook,” you finally said, turning to face the guy who was still awkwardly standing at the open door. “Now please shut the door and go back to whatever you were doing. I’m gonna be here, waiting till he comes. I’ve texted him.”

Jungkook closed the door, very slowly, still looking at you warily. “You aren’t going to break up with him?”

“What? Of course not! I love him!”

He visibly relaxed, even letting a hint of a smile swim onto his face. “That’s good to hear. I thought I’d messed up.”

You frowned, scrunching your nose up in confusion. “Wait a second, you had messed up? How?”

Releasing an immensely loud sigh, Jungkook walked up to sit next to you on the couch. “Uh…” He bit his lip, fidgeting with his hands. “Well, you all know how horrible I am with words, right? It’s half the reason why I don’t talk much. I get too upfront, accidentally, and it gets horribly worse if I’ve deduced a situation wrongly and spoken about it.”

You gave a small chuckle. Jungkook was adorable, at times, looking way younger than his age. Not that you knew his exact age. You were certain he called you noona just because Taehyung was his hyung, and not because he knew your exact age. You could turn out to be younger than him, and he’d give you the same amount of respect and formality. “You just did that to me, a few minutes back.”

Jungkook shut his eyes with a wince. “Exactly. I did something similar this morning, and said stuff that I had no way of knowing facts about. And…” he trailed off again, this time squinting at your...well, boobs.

You immediately straightened. “Yah! What are you looking at?”

Jungkook looked up with rounded eyes. “That’s my hoodie.”

You looked down at yourself and physically cringed. You were the worst girlfriend in the world to not be able to tell the difference between your boyfriend's hoodies and his roommate’s. “Oh, God. Oh no, I’m so sorry. This is so embarrassing.”

Jungkook gave a small, awkward nod. “It’s fine, you’re okay.”

You shook your head at yourself. “It’s been a horrible day, Kook.”

“I’m gonna have to agree with that."

You both sat in silence for a while, and you recalled how you’d imagined you’d get peace and quiet because Jungkook didn’t talk much. You mentally snorted. The guy hadn’t exchanged as many words with you in eight months, as he did today. 

Your eyes fell onto the TV in front of you. You squinted at the animated, white-ish balloon-ish things.

"Is that Soul?" you speculated.

Jungkook's cheeks and ears pinked. "Um, yes."

You lifted the remote and wordlessly unpaused the movie.

Settling on the carpet on the ground next to the coffee table, Jungkook munched on some nuts as you both watched. 

The movie was good – really good and engaging, so much so that you didn't check your phone for over an hour. When it pinged with a message, you suddenly recalled that Taehyung hadn't responded to your text. Sitting up, you grabbed the device to check.

18:23 Munchkin😾 (1 new message) 

You sighed in disappointment. 

Scrolling past your best friend's inquisitive message, you got to your chat with Taehyung. You frowned. The message hadn't been delivered, yet.

"Want some?"

You looked up with a start to find Jungkook's hand holding the bowl of nuts to you, his head still facing the TV. You cleared your throat. "Um, no, I'm good."

He retracted his hand without a word. "You okay, noona?"

You bit your lip. "Taehyung hasn't received my text, yet."

This time Jungkook twisted his neck to look up at you. The odd angle made it difficult to discern what expressions he held, but knowing him, it was probably surprise—his resident facial expressions, next to only occasional grimaces.

"He said he was at Jin oppa's and would come here as soon as I texted him, but…"

Jungkook hummed, turning back. "He is there, yes. We went together, but I left early because Yoongi hyung had to go to his studio. And I don't like to hangout with anybody else in that house."

You snorted at that, sobering the next second. You exhaled. "I think I should call him."

Jungkook gave a simple nod. You stood up with your phone to your ear. But then you stopped, mid-step. Taehyung's phone was switched off.

This was very unlike Taehyung. 

You pursed your lips in concern. He'd sounded fine—if not more than a little low—when you talked on the phone. He didn't sound angry, that is to say. Did something happen in the meanwhile? You wondered what it could be, because as far as you knew, you hadn't done anything wrong other than running off to Namjoon for help. But it had been nearly three hours since your talk, so you couldn't really be certain about Taehyung’s mood anymore.

You were at a loss. What the hell were you supposed to do? Just stay here and wait? 

But what if Taehyung was really mad for some reason and didn't come at all, and you had to stay the night? You were certain he wouldn't appreciate you staying in his dorm with his male roommate alone, overnight. Taehyung was far from an insecure or controlling boyfriend, but put in his shoes, even you would be irked if he were staying over at your dorm with just Wendy around.

You groaned at your chain of thoughts. What were you even thinking? This was so stupid. He would be here any minute, and this would all come to an end. You really wanted to slap your drunk self for putting you into this mess. Or, you realised, you could slap Hoseok for throwing the stupid party with memory wiping liquor, in the first place.

You sat back down on the couch with a thump. You were being unreasonably paranoid.

You took a few deep breaths, looking from your phone to the TV screen, and then at the back of Jungkook's head. "Jungkook?"

He hummed in response.

"I need some advice."

Jungkook turned to look at you, eyes wide in evident alarm. "No. Please no. I'm horrifyingly bad at that."

You clicked your tongue. "Tae's phone is switched off. He never turns his phone off, Jungkook."

Jungkook looked taken aback as well. He probably knew the fact. "Maybe it got discharged?"

You sighed. "Jin oppa's house has plenty of chargers and charging points."

Jungkook looked uncomfortable at that, fidgeting with his hands as he trained his gaze at your feet. "Um. I… I am not sure what…" he trailed off, biting down on his lip, looking beyond lost. "I don't even know what happened."

You shut your eyes and massaged your forehead with both hands. "What happened is that I got extremely embarrassed about…well, yesterday. Something—something happened which made me too nervous to face Tae. Coming here after so many hours, I thought I was ready to apologise and talk it through, but the longer it's taking him to get there, the more uncertain I'm getting."

You took a breath after you'd poured it all out. Jungkook was the last person you'd expect to understand your situation and give advice. But he prompted you to tell him – and it flowed out.

You shut your eyes tighter.

"If—if you think you're not ready," Jungkook suddenly began after a heavy silence of a few extended seconds, "you can step back and take a breather. Take some time to yourself, analyse and then build up the courage. In my experience, saying the wrong words can be worse than keeping mum." 

His words gave you a pause. Namjoon and Munchkin's words came back to you. Taehyung was your boyfriend—you could talk to him, whenever. Why were you making such a big deal out of it? Well maybe because you didn't want the situation to deteriorate further. Jungkook was right. You should rethink your decision of coming clean to Taehyung, lest you create more problems between the two of you by upsetting him.

"Does… does any of that help?" Jungkook hesitantly asked you.

You gave him a big smile "I think it does."

As if on cue, the sound of a key turning in the door reached you. Jungkook's head whipped around to look at it.

You breathed in, preparing yourself.

“Why’s your phone turned off, hyung?” Jungkook accosted him at the door.

You saw your boyfriend over Jungkook’s shoulder. He was frowning, and was seemingly yet to notice you. “My phone?” He brushed a hand over his trousers’ pockets, dark, curly bangs brushing his eyelids as his head bent. You bit your lip. He was irresistibly handsome without even trying. “Oh fuck,” Taehyung enunciated, looking up at Jungkook very slowly. “I left it at Jin hyung’s. Did you say it was off?”

Taehyung stepped into the dorm, wide eyes immediately colliding with yours. “Um. Hey,” you squeaked, standing up.

“H—hi,” Taehyung stumbled on his words, eyes roving first on your face and then the rest of you. He momentarily frowned, probably recognizing Jungkook’s hoodie on you, and then met your eyes with a hesitant expression on his face. “How—how long were you waiting?”

You bit your lip. He seemed to be feeling guilty already. You reckoned it would be better to not add onto it. “Not long,” you simply responded.

Taehyung took baby steps towards you, while Jungkook glided around the place, shutting the door, turning the TV off, and then exited to his own room. You looked down at your feet, only looking back up when Taehyung’s own entered your vision. “Angel,” he whispered, his breath fanning your face. His deep brown eyes looked like pools of dark chocolate. “What happened?”

The simple question made tears prickle the back of your eyes. 

It was always so simple with Taehyung. He was never pretentious, never impatient, never expected the world out of you—and yet you did not share things with him like he deserved. Why did you always have to be so self conscious?

Something must have shown on your face, because the next second had Taehyung frowning and stepping forth to cup your face in both his palms.

“Hey, hey, what is it?” he murmured very softly, swiping his thumbs at your cheeks to wipe off the wetness trickling down your eyes. “Shh, it’s okay, come on,” he soothingly whispered before collecting you in his arms.

You rested your forehead on his collarbones, pulling your lower lip in to grab a hold of your emotions as you wound both your arms around his shoulders. “I love you so much, Tae,” you mumbled into his skin.

He inhaled and then exhaled, almost as if in relief. “I love you too, baby. I love you too,” he whispered into your hair, pressing a soft kiss into the crown of your head.

Pulling away, Taehyung held you by your upper arms and bent to peer into your eyes. His olive green Cuban collar shirt swayed with his movement, giving you a delicious glimpse of his toned chest. Realising how highly inappropriate it was to be thinking lascivious thoughts with tears in your eyes—when your boyfriend was trying to comfort you—you swallowed and focussed back on his eyes. 

“Now, tell me. What happened this morning?” Taehyung questioned you with a boundless softness in his gaze.

You cleared your throat. "Can we – can we move this to your room?"

Taehyung nodded, readily, wrapping his elegant fingers around your elbows to lead the two of you into his room. 

As you settled on the edge of his bed, your eyes caught your top from last night's outfit placed neatly folded at the top of Taehyung's dresser. You pursed your lips.

“So.” Taehyung sat down next to you on the bed, bumping his shoulders into yours.

You licked your lips, gathering courage. “I…this is gonna sound bad, babe, and, um, insulting even, but…” You turned to meet his eyes, desperately searching for any recognition. But you were met with cluelessness, and a subtle hint of apprehension. You sighed. “I — I had too much to drink last night, Tae.”

You felt him stiffen. His eyes gave away nothing. You waited for a couple heartbeats, expecting some indication that he was catching onto what you were trying to imply. Taehyung said nothing, though, and his face remained unmoving.

You looked down at your lap, wringing your fingers together. “I don’t know if I had too much, or if the combination made it so, but… I don’t—” You cleared your throat when your voice broke, chancing a glance at your boyfriend who was still as a statue. “I don’t remember a thing from last night. It’s all…a blur.”

Taehyung seemed to have stopped breathing, too, he’d gone so still. Very anxiously, you lifted your gaze to look at him.

You almost wished you hadn't, though. He looked shattered. Crushing disappointment was all over his face, hitting you like a lead arrow, and he wasn’t even looking at you. 

You felt like running away, your cheeks and ears burning in embarrassment. You tried to put yourself in Taehyung’s spot, employing your trusted tactic to discern how someone else must be feeling, but your head was too fuzzy with the unease you felt. You were mortified.

Taking a staggered breath in, you stood up on shaky legs. “I’m — I’m sorry, Tae,” you uttered, unsure if you were heard. “I really wish—”

“It’s fine, it’s okay. I understand,” Taehyung cut you off, suddenly, obviously trying to save face given the tight smile he had pulled up to flash at you beneath his saddened eyes. “It’s okay.”

You swallowed, shaking your head very slowly. “No,” you said. “It’s not okay, Tae. I — I wanted to make it memorable, too. Cherish the memories for life, however cliché might that sound. But I… I really blanked out, Tae.”

Taehyung’s brows got a slight crease in them by the time you were finished. But his eyes—those damned pools of love that you’d gotten so used to seeing boundless love in—looked strangely defeated. It almost felt like you’d done more than not remember a night of sex. 

But then you reprimanded yourself by underlining how it wasn’t just any night of sex—it had been the first time you and the love of your life became one. Knowing how sentimental Taehyung was, it had to have hurt him tremendously. This time you were very easily able to put yourself in his place and realise that you’d be pretty pissed if he had no recollection of something precious to you. You took a step away, suddenly overwhelmed by immense guilt. 

“Did nothing come back to you?” Taehyung asked, lips pouted and eyes rounded. “After so many hours, too?”

You shook your head, slowly. “I really tried, baby.”

Taehyung looked unconvinced, taking you by surprise. 

He didn’t, by any means, think that you were lying about it, did he? You wouldn’t put it past your boyfriend’s overthinking brain.

“I think I — I need a break,” you blurted out, watching in horror how any remainder of color left Taehyung’s face. Jungkook’s words came back to you: saying the wrong words can be worse than keeping mum.

“A break?” Taehyung gawked at you.

You quickly shook your head. “A breather. Space. Some — some time to get over my embarrassment.”

Taehyung looked confused, but you couldn’t bear to wait and extend this conversation. Twisting in place, you rushed out of there, on your way to your own dorm, this time. 

Taehyung sipped on Hoseok’s cheap beer, unseeing gaze stuck on the TV as some football match played on the screen. Next to him, Seokjin and Hoseok sat with their own bottles in hand. They were, decidedly, much more aware of the game than he was. 

“Gah! That was a red card, come on!” Hoseok suddenly exclaimed at the referee.

Seokjin snorted. “This referee is blind.”

“Or sold,” Hoseok grumbled.

Taehyung blinked, unable to focus on the game however hard he stared. Shaking his head, he took another gulp of the bitter liquid.

His soul had almost left his body when you'd said you needed a break. You wanting to be away from him after last night would have been his biggest nightmare come true.

But then you asked for space. To get over your embarrassment.

Why were you embarrassed? He couldn't, for the life of him, decipher that one. Did you really regret last night that bad? Had you changed your mind? Or was it something else altogether?

But what the hell could it even be, then?

Hoseok cleared his throat, drawing Taehyung's attention to the redhead. "You could try out a new painting, Tae. It'd be a nice outlet, and, y'know? They say you create your finest art when you got a heavy heart."

"Pretty sure that's not what they say, Hobi," Seokjin deadpanned.

"Something along those lines, hyung, catch my drift." Hoseok scowled at Seokjin. “Art’s supposed to take your mind off stuff, right?”

Taehyung exhaled, proceeding to chug down the rest of the drink in his bottle. "I can't," he murmured. "Angel is…" He stopped, shut his eyes and exhaled. "She's been my biggest muse ever since I met her, hyung. I can't paint when we're fighting."

Seokjin noisily exhaled, puffing his nostrils up. "Then maybe you could—ah, I don't know, invest in a different sort of art?"

Taehyung frowned at the guy in confusion. Hoseok, though, seemed to have gotten onto something. His head of flaming red hair bobbed erratically. "Yes, yes! Great idea, hyung! You should come with me to the rehearsal hall for some time, Tae. It's been ages since you've been there. It'd be a good distraction, take your mind off all this disappointment and hurt."

Taehyung clicked his tongue. "I'm not disappointed. I'm—I'm just… just hurt."

Seokjin sighed. "You mean you aren't even the slightest bit irked that she used the excuse of missing memory to evade your…well. You know." He gesticulated with a hand around the other. "You are, aren't you?"

"Not really." Taehyung frowned and shook his head. "I mean, well. yes. Of course, I would've preferred if she didn't try to evade it and just talked to me. But maybe she really can't recall anything, I'm not entirely sure. I mean, what's the difference, either way? It all boils down to the fact that she has backed off. And that is what's…" He broke off, taking in a shaky inhale. "What's hurting," he finished on an exhale.

They all went silent for a while. Seokjn hummed. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. You love dance and you love Hobi’s routines, so… it could be therapeutic to you. But don’t force yourself, we’ll think of something else.” 

Taehyung exhaled, swiping a hand down his face. He really did love Hobi’s routines and it really had been ages since he’d been to the rehearsal hall. “No. No, I want to. I’ll join you tomorrow, Hobi hyung.” He passed the man a half smile, and got a full back. He huffed out a breath. “You guys wanna crack open something stronger than this?” he asked the two older guys, gesturing to his empty beer bottle.

Seokjin raised his hands in surrender. "I've got work, tomorrow."

But Hobi, the resident booze-man, grinned like a cheshire cat.

Your day had been hell, and your night was going to be, too.

After ignoring your calls for an hour, your best friends had texted you back telling you they were too busy to take your calls. They would have known, of course, what you’d talk about and prioritized their personal businesses above it.

You weren’t bitter about it, or anything…

Okay, you were. You were really really bitter.

Because Munchkin was at a party, trying to rope in some guy she’d had her sights on for a while. Needless to say, she was gonna be busy for the night. And Namjoon was working on some project for extra credits for his class tomorrow.

Your relationship being at the verge of splintering was, apparently, less important than a coveted hookup and extra fucking credits.

Your mother had sent you her customary checking in texts asking about your well being, and you'd made a whole hypothetical situation to ask her if temporary amnesia could be cured with some brain exercise.

Did you drink too much at that party you were going to? Are you okay?

You huffed a breath out, irritated but at the same time feeling really loved at your mother's accurate deduction of the situation. You texted her you were okay, she asked about Taehyung's well being, you said he was okay, too, and at the end she suggested you see a doctor if this felt too uneasy.

You thought about it for a while, but then realised a doctor wouldn't take you seriously. 

yeah right, mom! if docs started treating everyone with temporary amnesia on campus, he'd be dealing with nearly the entire student population

The conversation with your mother certainly failed to help in any way. You had no solution at your hands and your mind wasn't taken off it, too.

You stress-ate a pint of choco-chip icecream for dinner and watched reruns of Victorious on your laptop. You cried when Beck and Jade broke up. And then you slept with your laptop still running the show in the background.

You had a fitful night’s sleep, riddled with horrible nightmares switching between you begging Taehyung to tell you what you’d forgotten but him just crying because he was so hurt that you forgot in the first place, and Taehyung never wanting to talk to you again because he thought you were lying about forgetting your special night.

You finally sat up in your bed at close to six am. Having had enough with the mess in your head, you decided to beg your best friends to help you out, one more time.

Seventeen minutes past six of the morning saw you on a conference call with Namjoon and Munchkin.

“I went to bed at four, bitch, have some mercy—”

“And I didn’t sleep at all, I’ve been working on the project the whole night, and—”

“Guys!” you wailed. “Please help me out here! I am at my wit’s end, I can’t eat, can’t sleep, and I don’t know who else to talk to! I swear if I did, I would not be bothering you two like this!” You exhaled when they’d both quieted down. “Not that you’ve been much help, so far,” you added under your breath.

“I did not sign up for being insulted first thing in the morning!” Munchkin protested. “And Joon, what the hell is up with all your late night working sessions, lately? Don’t you get enough time during the day?”

The comment had you momentarily distracted from your own issue as you furrowed your brows. “Good point. He’s been spending more odd hours than usual at the library, too,” you said, recalling how Jackson had told you about Namjoon’s frequent nightly visits to the library.

“What? I—I do work during the day, guys,” Namjoon jumped to his defense, “but… the work’s a lot, okay? Also, almost the entirety of my Sunday went into comforting Angel. Being an economics major just eats up your time, okay? And—and I really need a couple extra credits—”

“Stop, you’re rambling,” Munchkin interrupted, sounding bored.

“And obviously lying,” you added with a shrug, even though they couldn’t see it.

“What? What? I’m not—”

“Honestly, Joon, nobody has time for your theatrics, okay? If you’re sneaking around with a girl—although I’m willing to bet my nail extensions you’re not—it’s cool. Do whatever,” Munchkin sounded half asleep, but what she said rang true with you, too.

“Absolutely. We won’t pry, and won’t judge.”

“It’s not a girl, guys, come on—”

“Already bet on it.”

“You mean it is something, then?” You squinted.

“Wait, how did this conversation go from Angel’s crisis call to a semi-intervention on me?” Namjoon protested, bringing you back to the ground.

You groaned. “Oh, yes. No, sorry, we don’t have time for diversions, right now. Help me resolve my crisis first.”

Munchkin clicked her tongue. “I still really fail to see what the big deal is? So drinking gave you amnesia like a total weirdo. Yeah, okay, it kinda sucks, but it’s not the end of the world! You two love each other! Move past this! Make new freaking memories, and get over it!”

You bit down on your lip. “I… I would have done that, eventually, but… you guys don’t know what happened last night.”

“Yeah, we do. Sort of. You left thirty seven messages in the groupchat, so we get the gist,” Namjoon reminded you.

“Okay, so you do know. So. Guys, it’s become a big deal because Taehyung has made it into one. His behaviour last night…” and you launched into a retelling of your whole encounter with Taehyung at his dorm.

For the better part of an hour, your dear best friends listened to you go on about how Taehyung seemed heartbroken because of your missing memory, and how you felt he didn’t even fully believe you when you said you didn’t remember anything. You also brought up, time and again, how this one incident was gonna end your relationship. 

“Okay, okay, hold on!” Namjoon finally interrupted your rampage. “This is all rubbish!”

You stuck your bottom lip out, turning to your side in your bed. Wendy had been out the entire night, last night. You wondered what she was up to because she wasn't the type to sleep around or go to parties. Maybe she had a sleepover with some of her girlfriends. You honestly couldn’t strain your mind over this on top of everything else, so you shut your eyes. 

“Firstly, Taehyung isn’t gonna break up with you because he suspects you’re lying about the memory loss. That’s just stupid and unlike him, and I’ve known him longer than you,” Namjoon continued. “Also, I still think the key to this whole issue is communicating. You need to open your mouth and ask the guy what happened last night. Don’t be demotivated by his saddened face, push through.”

“But… you know, Jungkook said to me that sometimes saying the wrong words can be worse than keeping mum. And I literally said the absolutely worst combination of words I could to Tae, last night! Almost made him think I was trying to break up with him. How shitty—”

“I bet he’s not even thinking about it right now. I bet my hair extensions on it,” Munchkin interrupted with a snort. “He’s probably sleeping off another hangover. Boys always end up drowning the conflicts in their lives in alcohol.”

You rolled your eyes. “As opposed to what you do? And stop betting your extensions on things.”

“But, she’s kinda not wrong, Angel,” Namjoon intervened, “you’re definitely overreacting a bit. Jungkook has hardly ever known what he’s talking about, all through his life. You’re letting his words affect you? All you can do, right now, is have a decent conversation with Tae where you hold his hand, look into his eyes and ask him to tell you what exactly happened last night.” He paused. “The night before, now, I guess, ’cause it’s morning…”

You sighed, opening your eyes to blink at Wendy’s empty bed. “I don’t know, guys… He looks so freaking shattered and disappointed every time I try to talk to him, it just feels like a slap to the face.”

“Ugh, stop thinking so much about everything,” Munchkin groaned. “And if talking to him seems like such a humongous challenge, then talk to someone you know he would have confided in.”

You sat up at that, eyes open wide. “Jin! Jin oppa! Tae shares everything with him, and he even went straight to his place after I left his dorm, too! He would know everything.”

“Now, now,” Namjoon began with a nervous lilt, “I don’t think it’s such a great idea to ask around when you could ask—”

“Shut up, Namjoon, it’s a fantastic fucking idea,” Munchkin cut him off.

“Yes. Yes, it’s a fantastic idea!” you exclaimed, checking the time. “It’s past eight, he would’ve left for the restaurant. I can make it after my Scriptwriting class and catch him during his lunch hour! Thank you, guys, thank you, so much!”

“Great to be of service. Now let me go back to sleep, I’m skipping all my classes today,” Munchkin muttered into the phone.

“For the record, I still don’t think it’s such a great idea—”

“Nobody cares, Namjoon, go back to sleep. You have a boring-as-fuck class in less than two hours.” With that, Munchkin disconnected your three-way call.

You tossed your phone to the side and laid back on your bed. This could actually work out. You could ask Jin to fill you in on what’s been going on in Taehyung’s head, and then go talk to your boyfriend with full preparation.

Noon couldn’t come sooner.

Jin’s face was pretty expressionless when he got into his usual lunch booth and met your eyes instead of his girlfriend’s. He didn’t look surprised, at all. He literally didn’t even blink, just gave you a once over and reached for his bag to fetch his lunch out. That should have been your warning sign, but blinded by your own selfish goal, you missed it.

“Oppa, hello,” you respectfully greeted him, wringing your hands in your lap. “I hope you don't mind me dropping by unannounced, but I wasn’t sure you’d be welcoming if I told you beforehand. You know why.” You looked down at the table, at Jin’s lunch of some salad and a smoothie. “I—I think you do, at least.”

You waited for Jin to say something, but he simply kept chewing. His eyes looked at you so blankly, he almost seemed to be looking through you. This was nothing like the Jin you knew. Either he was in a really disturbed state of mind, or he was really mad at you for what happened between you and Taehyung. 

You suspected it was the latter.

“Um,” you couldn’t find the right words to say. “I—I tried talking to Tae about this, but he gets really upset and unbelieving and I… I lose courage.” You swallowed. You were losing courage now, too. “So—so, oppa, did he… Taehyung, he… what did he say about last night?” You bit your tongue. “I mean the night before. Hobi—Hobi oppa’s party’s night.” You focussed your gaze at your sweaty hands resting in your lap. “I drank God knows what combination of alcohol, and…and can’t seem to recall the events that followed us leaving the party. Taehyung is really worked up about it all, so…” You looked up to meet Jin’s flat stare. “Will you tell me what happened that night? What—what Taehyung’s been so worried about?”

Jin sipped at his smoothie, smacked his lips, and had just opened his mouth to say something, when a familiar voice rained down on the two of you from the side. “Well, this is fabulous!” 

You jumped, snapping your head to the side to see Jin’s girlfriend standing close to your booth in her waitress outfit, lunchbox in hand and rage on her face.

“So, now you have engagements during lunch, too. Great. Just great.”

“Unnie, I…” You trailed off as the woman silenced you with a sharp glare. Tossing another one at her boyfriend, she twisted on her heels and left the break room. “I… what did I do wrong? She—she did recognize me, right?” you nervously asked the stoic wall sitting before you.

“Taehyung is upset because you’ve been hiding behind the excuse of this fictitious memory loss—that doesn’t happen in real life, mind you—to get out of the promise you made to him while drunk,” Jin told you in a slightly high pitched, obviously enraged, and nearly unrecognisable voce. 

You gaped at him. “I really do not remember, oppa! Why would I want to forget about my first…” You slowly came to a halt as it hit you. “Wait, what did you say? The promise I made to him? What promise?” you rasped, bewildered.

Jin scowled at you. "What first time were you going to speak of? I don’t know about the intimate details of your relationship, and I don't want to, because that isn’t material here.” You ducked your head as your cheeks pinked. “You two drunkards were getting all emotional about loving each other a lot and wanting to stay together forever, so Tae proposed the idea of sealing it with a ring.”

You gasped. “I—a promise ring?”

“Mm hmm,” Jin hummed with pursed lips. “And then, when you got sober and realised you shouldn't have made that commitment in a haste, you ran out on him, instead of telling him straight up. And since then you’ve been confusing him with mixed clues instead of properly talking to him about what you want.” Jin’s jaw was set. “Why can’t you just have a proper talk, huh? Why do you women have to be so mysterious and expectant about things? Use your freaking words, for one damn time in your life! Men can’t get into your head to guess shit! Say it, and maybe we’ll be able to resolve it! Use words to describe what you actually want, and maybe I'd be able to get it done!”

Jin was breathing hard, his eyes were blown wide and a few veins in his forehead looked close to popping. You swallowed, feeling nervous, confused, dumbstruck and a tad bit scared for your life, at the same time. “Uh… you?”

Jin blinked, and the hazy, mad look lifted from his gaze. His lips parted and he sighed very noisily. “No, not I. It’s just… I started to project my personal issues onto you. Sorry about that, kid.” He forwarded a hand to pat your shoulder in apology. “You got what you came here for, though, right?”

“I… yeah, I guess. Although…” I cannot believe that that is what I forgot. No wonder Taehyung looked so downtrodden.

Gosh, you were a fool!

“Thank you so much, oppa!” you announced to Jin, getting up with a new spring to your steps. “I’ll get going, now.”

You bounded out of the restaurant. You literally could not believe what you’d just learned. Smacking a palm against your face, you shook your head at yourself. 

You concentrated, again, this time to recall conversations from last night instead of actions. And surprisingly enough, some of the fog cleared away as you started recalling things…

…you are beyond toasted in this shimmery polyester top and leather shorts you’d worn as your costume. The minute you step into Taehyung’s room, you are scrambling to get out of them.

Your boyfriend chuckles as he locks the door after himself. “You’re more than welcome to take it off, and more, babe.”

Your mind has gotten kind of hazier than you’re used to. But knowing how Tae always makes fun of you for being a lightweight — which you’re really really not, Tae just holds his liquor better than you do — you avoid bringing up your state of mind. You laugh at his teasing remark.

Within seconds, you have thrown off your top and shorts, and are snuggled between Taehyung’s covers. He himself has stripped down to his boxers. You give a lazy smile as your eyes rove his torso. “What happened to wearing pajamas when we cuddled?” you tease, sleepily.

Taehyung gets in bed next to you, rolling over to pull you to his chest. He smirks down at you, complete with his vampire makeup. “Too balmy tonight. And too tired to find pajamas.”

You giggle, burrowing yourself into the warm, soft skin of his chest. You poke a finger into his pectoral muscle.

“Ow!” he yelps.

“You’re muscly, babe. Those oversized clothes hide you well,” you observe, licking your lips as your hands smooth over his chest and stomach.

“And you’re sexy,” he responds in a rasp, eyes stuck on the cleavage exposed by your bra. “Do you usually sleep with this on?” he asks, snapping the strap against your shoulder.

You wince, shaking your head. “It’s too hot to wear a shirt, so…”

Taehyung pulls you in closer, staring deep into your eyes. “Do you trust me?”

Despite all the ridiculous makeup, your heart skips a beat at his intense stare. You nod.

His hands slide behind you to unhook your bra. You gasp when the clasp is released. “Relax, baby. It’s just me,” Taehyung whispers to you in a soothing voice. “I won’t even look if you ask me to. You know that, right?”

You do. But you also do. Want him to look, and more. As the garment is pulled away from your body, slowly, Taehyung’s eyes remain stuck to yours. Your own water at the love, admiration and respect you feel for him in the moment. Actually, not just in the moment. Always.

A sob escapes your lips. You rush to wrap yourself in his arms, again. “Baby?” he sounds worried. “What—what happened, sweetheart?”

“I just love you a lot, Tae,” you speak into his skin in a nasally, snot-filled voice. “A lot. You’re my most precious gemstone in the whole world. Never leave me, baby. Never ever.”

Taehyung presses a multitude of kisses to the crown of your head, and you feel wetness seep into your shoulder when he nuzzles your nape. “I love you too, my babylove. And I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.”

“Promise?” you mumble. “This is forever?”

You feel him nod against you. “Forever, baby. I promise.” He pulls away from you, eyes still on your face as he wipes away your tears and the obviously ruined makeup if his own is anything to go by. “Do you want to seal it? With a promise ring?”

You gasp. This is the stuff from teenage romance novels that you’ve always dreamed of. “I… Yes! Yes, Tae, oh my God, yes, yes, please yes!” you happily chant, grabbing both his hands and wringing them around as you roll in the bed.

Taehyung chuckles, calming you down by pulling you in for a kiss. The familiar heavenly feel of his pillowy lips has you quieting down and kissing him back. His palm slowly travels up the curve of your waist to curl around the side of your breast. Your breath hitches.

Taehyung brushes his tongue against your lower lip, and pulls back. “Is this okay?” he asks, giving a slight squeeze.

You almost squeak at the sensation, rapidly nodding your head like a dummy. Smiling, he captures your lips again and massages his palm over the peak of your breast, squeezing when you moan into his mouth. You lose yourself in his taste and touch.

His lips travel lower to your jaw, peppering kisses on their way. You release a sigh of bliss, hands carding through his hair. His teeth scrape over your collarbone, quickly latching onto the skin of your neck. You cannot hold back the whine that leaves you, sensations travelling down to the bottom of your stomach.

“Mine,” he breathes into your skin, sponging kisses over the bite he has just left. “Only mine.”

“Only yours, baby,” you breathe out, rolling on your back as he presses his face against your sternum.

“You’ve made me the happiest man, bub,” he breathes onto your chest, a finger drawing patterns around your navel as he cuddles into you. “I’ll get you that ring and prove myself to be the best boyfriend, in the world. I’ll love you more than you ever thought was possible.”

Tears trickle down your eyes at his words. “And I’m gonna be the best girlfriend in the world to you, baby. You’re my dream come true. My real life prince charming.”

He doesn't say anything for a while, just hugs you tighter. His lips feathers soft kisses to the tops of your breasts, and a hand plays with imaginary patterns on your stomach. And then you feel his head getting heavier. You want to ask him if he’s sleepy, but you cannot even open your eyes with how heavy they’ve gotten. You breathe out as he holds you closer, and slowly drift into sleep...

Your eyes watered as the scenes played out in your head, everything you’d been unable to recall gradually coming back. You realised you’d been going about it the wrong way, trying to recall your passionate moments, when it had all been an extremely emotional affair.

You bit your lip as you called Taheyung’s cellphone. You were gonna beg for his forgiveness and then kiss him silly. You loved this boy so much, oh God.

The phone was picked up after three rings. “Hi, kiddo!”

You blinked at the unexpected voice and greeting, but then recognised it to be Hobi’s. Oh how you wished you could yell at the guy for making your life miserable by mixing drinks at his damn party. You exhaled, though, and tried to clear your head. “Hobi oppa, hey. Where’s Tae?”

“At the Kappa rehearsal hall with me!” Hobi cheerfully told you. “We’re doing a k-pop routine today. You know how he gets with those, right? He’s been practising this one move that he can’t get right for so long, ugh. Do you need a message conveyed?”

You frowned to yourself. It had been a while since Taehyung visited the rehearsal halls. Was he trying to distract himself from the disaster you’d brewed up for him? Very likely. “No, no, I’m gonna…” You stopped yourself. Maybe an element of surprise would work better. “I’ll call later, when he’s done,” you said, instead, already mapping a way down to the university campus and the rehearsal hall as you hailed a cab.

You received Hobi’s text on your way, stating that they were all leaving for the ice cream parlor opposite the building and that you may contact Taehyung now if you wanted to. You were kind of grateful they’d all left the rehearsal hall. You weren’t sure how you’d call Taehyung aside in an echoing hall with mirrors and Hobi’s dance team. And what would you do if he refused you? You weren’t prepared for that kind of humiliation. An ice cream shop, you could do.

On reaching your destination, you exited the cab, determined. You looked up at the striking capital K embossed in gold atop the Kappa rehearsal hall. Then you turned to look across the street and spotted a quaint, cosy looking ice cream parlour painted in beautiful pastels. You crossed the road with hurried steps.

You took a deep breath in. You were gonna apologise your butt off, and then kiss him in the middle of this very place if you had to. God, you felt so guilty! You were gonna make this right.

As you pushed the door open, the entry bell tolled, alerting the girl behind the cash counter of your presence. As she flashed you a bright smile, you realised she looked familiar. She had a really kind face. Maybe you’d seen her around the campus, maybe she was one of Wendy’s friends. 

You stepped in and returned her greeting with a small smile of your own. Then you looked around to spot Taehyung and Hobi’s group. Hobi caught your eye first, standing out with his fiery red hair.

You walked over. “Hey… everyone,” you greeted the table, awaiting Hobi’s reaction and hoping he’d be kinder than Jin. Although half of Jin’s ire seemed to have come from his personal troubles which you really had known nothing about beforehand. You smiled when Hobi’s surprised eyes met yours. “Hi.”

“Oh! Hey, kid!” Hobi greeted you with a huge grin, easing your worries. “You, uh, you came here, whoa!”

You gave a bashful shrug, awkward because you didn’t recognise anyone other than Hobi on the table.

And then you did a double take at the table. You didn’t recognise anyone, indeed! Where was Taehyung?

Hobi noticed your searching eyes. “Oh, Tae went back to the hall, he’d left his phone. He’ll be back in five.”

You exhaled. That wouldn’t do. “I’ll catch him back there, no problem.”

Hobi shrugged his shoulders, without question. “He’d be in hall G.”

Nodding him a quick thanks, you took off, leaving the ice cream shop, and crossed the road back to the rehearsal hall. As you stepped foot onto the linoleum floor of your university's most coveted rehearsal hall, you realized you’d never been here before. Past the revolving gates, you encountered a small reception area where you had to show your college ID to get yourself checked in.

When the man passed your ID back to you over the counter, you made your way down the corridor which was lined by various gates that were numbered alphabetically. These were probably the individual halls. The corridor, you noticed, ran quite long. God, how huge was this place?

On reaching the door marked with a G, you stopped. The door wasn’t fully shut like all the others you’d walked past, right now.

You gave it a slight push, peeking in. Taehyung’s shapely butt greeted you as the guy leant over on the floor, rummaging around for something. Probably his phone. You gaped at the sight for a few extended seconds, before realising how you were being a creep.

You cleared your throat and gave the door a firmer push, opening it wide enough for you to step through. Taehyung’s wide eyes met yours in the mirrored wall he was sat before. You sucked in a sharp breath as his attractiveness smacked you in the face, yet again. Dressed in plain black joggers and a loose fitted t-shirt, he should have had nothing on your white colored high waisted shorts and pale blue button up, and yet he looked like a freaking Greek God, while you...well. You really just looked like a potato trying to play dress-up in front of this guy, swear to God.

He straightened up, running a hand through his dark hair, his eyes following your movements through the mirror as you stepped in. His gaze seemed apprehensive and he really didn’t seem to be in the mood to speak, anytime soon. “Hi,” you whispered through a scratchy throat.

Taehyung’s eyes travelled down your body, making you blush from the inside out as they lingered on your legs. “Hey,” he finally said, audibly exhaling as he sat down, this time, to rummage through some towels and water bottles lying on the floor next to the wall length mirror. “You done with your breather, overnight, then? Can you give me a ring? I can’t find my phone.”

You bit your lip at his caustic tone and taunt. And also at the lack of an address. No babe, no angel? You’d really hurt him. “Uh, yeah, sure,” you quickly said, holding back the flood that was filling up your heart as you fished your phone out from your pocket.

The buzz of a cellphone’s vibration filled up around you. Taehyung bounced back to his feet, attentively kicking off a soaked towel, and there, on the floor, you saw his phone. You disconnected the call as he picked the device up. “Thank you,” he mumbled, breaking your heart with the formality and the repetitive lack of address.

He walked up to you on careful steps, eyes scanning your face as if accessing something. You breathed in. “Tae, can we talk?”

His eyebrows did a thing where one of them rose and the other lowered, very slightly. You nearly creamed your panties. “Depends,” he gruffly said, looking away to inspect his phone. “Are you gonna run off in the middle of it, again?”

You winced, ducking your head in shame. “No. No, absolutely not. Never again, I promise,” you mumbled. You looked up and caught a brief glimpse of his shattered expressions before he pulled on his mask of indifference mingled with slight bother. You felt like shit. “I’m so so so sorry, baby,” you said without any ado. “I acted like a complete idiot and—and really hurt you.”

Taehyug’s whole body seemed to deflate. With his lips pursed and eyes shut, he shook his head. “That you did, babe. That you did.”

You clamped your lower lip between your teeth. “Forgive me? Please?” you breathed out in a really desperate voice, ready to beg on your knees if you had to.

Taehyung opened his eyes with a tired sounding, noisy exhale. “It’s… well, of course, I’ll forgive you, Angel. You’re the love of my life,” he said with a small smile while his eyes still emanated immense sadness. He looked so heartbroken and lost that you just wanted to give him a tight hug. “But, baby. Why? Why did you go through all this trouble of faking memory loss? You ran out on me twice within twelve hours, you know. It hurt like a bitch that you couldn’t just talk to me about wanting to back out. I would’ve understood, baby. You were drunk and emotional, and I—”

You gasped when it hit you. Faking memory loss? Wanting to back out? Oh no. “Tae!” you interrupted him, stepping forth to put both your palms against his chest, resisting the urge to splay them and push them into his toned flesh. “You’ve still got it wrong. I didn’t fake any memory loss, baby. I genuinely did not remember. I promise. I didn’t lie.”

Taehyung frowned, looking confused. “What? But…why did you leave like that in the morning, then?” he asked in a soft voice, looking vulnerable as his hands came up to loop around your wrists.

Your skin as well as your heart warmed at his familiar touch, and this time you did splay your fingers out a bit on his pectorals. “I…” You felt your cheeks and ears heating up when you realized you’d have to actually tell him what you’d assumed you’d forgotten. “Um, Tae, we—uh, we were nearly naked when we woke up, you remember?”

Despite the situation, a corner of his lips ticked up and his hands left your wrists to wrap around your waist. “Uh huh, vividly. What of it?”

You felt the heat climb down your ears, to your neck. You looked down at his beautiful collarbones to avoid the intensity his eyes suddenly shone with. “Well, it — it made me think that maybe, you know… stuff might have happened between us. Um, you know…?”

When you felt his hold slacken, you looked up to find Taehyung gaping at you with his jaw dropped really far down and eyes as round as golf balls. “You thought we had sex?” he squeaked, face contorting in horror. “No…you thought you forgot that we had sex,” he corrected himself, horror growing on his face as you pursed your lips in silent acquiescence.

“I felt horribly embarrassed,�� you quietly confessed, making his grip on you tighten again. “Our first sexual encounter was — well, is going to be something I remember and cherish for the rest of my life. I hated myself for blanking out on it.”

“But you could’ve asked me!” he desperately said, shaking his head as if in disbelief.

“Yeah, about that.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “I kinda did, but somebody just gave me suggestive glances and confuddling freaking words that concreted my doubt of us having had sex!”

Taehyung grimaced. “Yeah, I was tryna tease, but it came back to bite me in the butt.”

You rolled your eyes with a small chuckle, sliding your palms past his shoulders to grip his neck.

“As it stands, I’m sorry, too.” He looked at you with parted lips and big, innocent eyes. “I shouldn’t have doubted you like that.”

You looked in his now regretful eyes with love bubbling in your chest. “How could you ever think I would wanna back out, baby?” you whispered, leaning in close enough to taste his favorite strawberry milkshake on his breath. “You really are my most precious gemstone in the whole world, Tae,” you relayed your words from that night, making his eyes widen. “My dream come true. My real life prince charm—”

With a growl Taehyung captured your lips in his. You melted in his embrace, nails digging into the back of his neck as you drank your fill of him. Your lips moved in sync, the most natural rhythm in the world to you. You had missed this, missed him so much, in just a day. You really couldn’t live without this boy. He was your whole world.

His tongue swiped past the seams of your lips to delve deeper, and you allowed him entry with a deep moan, going lax in his arms as he plundered your mouth. You felt him move you around, and then a cold surface was pressing into your back. Taehyung sidled up to you, his planes molding smoothly into your curves. You sighed into his mouth, tasting him to the fullest as you ran your own tongue over the ridge of his upper teeth. His chest vibrated with a groan, making you shiver.

You closed your teeth around his lower lip and sucked, making him gasp and push against you harder. His own teeth scraped against your upper lip. Goosebumps spread all over your body.

His arms left your waist to pull at your own, slowly travelling down your shoulders, to encircle your wrists and pin them next to your head. He pulled away with a heaving chest, and you gasped in a large breath. Your eyes fluttered open.

He looked good enough to eat with his eyes shuttered, dark hair brushing his miles long lashes, and lips cherry red with your kisses. “I love you so so much, my babylove,” he whispered, strawberry scented breath washing over your face.

You inhaled his essence. Your eyes watered at the love reflected in his own. “I love you, too, Tae. I love you forever.”

Pinned between him and, you could now tell, the mirror, your heartbeat quickened when he licked his lips. Without another word, he leant down to sponge open mouthed kisses down your neck.

“Tae,” you breathed out, “we’re in...publi—ah!” you broke on a gasp when he licked a strip up to your jaw.

Your eyelashes fluttered as he came back up to look into your eyes with his own darkened in lust. “You didn’t cover the marks, did you?”

Your breathing almost stopped at his deep octave. Nearly trembling in his grasp, you shook your head. “I w—w—wore a shirt to… hide ’em,” you managed to breath out, going insane under his heated stare.

He let go of your arms to unbutton the collar of your shirt. You looped your fingers through the waistband of his joggers, chewing on your lower lip when he undid another button. And another. And then another. “You look really fucking sexy today, by the way,” he grumbled into your neck, leaning in to lave his tongue over the deep purple marks he’d left there. “Love the shorts.”

You bit back a whimper when his teeth scraped against the flesh just beneath your collarbone. 

“I happen to remember another mark,” he spoke into your skin, nose dragging down your sternum and sinking into your cleavage. One of his fingers came up to drag against the top seam of your bra. In a swift motion, he scooped the cup down to free your right boob. One of his fingers came up to encircle your nipple, making it peak immediately. Humming in satisfaction, he moved the shapely digit up to rub against the mark you remembered he’d left there. “Would you look at that.” His voice was now a growl, hot breath warming the skin of your breast as he spoke. “My baby looks so pretty.”

That was your last warning before Taehyung was engulfing your peak into his mouth. You stopped breathing. Frozen in place, your thighs tingling at the sensation and your core clenching in anticipation, a breathless heave left you when his tongue flicked against the pebbled nipple. You desperately clutched onto him for dear life, one hand grabbing hold of his shirt at the waist and the other coming up to grip a tuft of his hair. “Tae...hyung,” you whined, eyes screwed shut as he sucked hard.

He let go of your boob with a pop, only to tease his mark with kitten licks. You were gonna die. 

One of his hands glided over one of your thighs, hooking under your knee to lift your leg up and slot himself further into you. Your eyes flew open when you felt the stiffness between his legs. He felt hard. And he felt huge. Gulping, you tugged at his hair to pull him away. He separated from you with dazed eyes, blinking rapidly as if to focus on your face as he breathed through his wet, rosy, parted lips.

Sexy fucking beast.

As you looked into his crazed eyes, he pressed harder against you, pushing his length against the crotch of your shorts. You whimpered, your fists tightening on him when the zipper of your shorts bumped into your clit. Taehyung’s eyes lit up with interest. He repeated the motion. You threw your head back, giving up when he picked up pace, rubbing against you with his own breathing laboured.

Sweat beaded your forehead, and his hand came up to support the back of your neck, palm of the other still holding up your leg to provide him with the required leverage. You let out a guttural moan when he leant in to lick at your nipple with the flat of his tongue. “Tae…” you sighed, attempting to collect some semblance of your sanity, but failing.

Taehyung sped up, almost rutting against you, and you rolled your hips against his to match the pace. His mouth latched onto your neck, shooting off sparks down to your core and fueling the fire bubbling in the pit of your stomach. You were about to combust. “My baby,” he grumbled into your ear, scraping his teeth against the flesh behind it. Your entire body shuddered. “Only mine,” he growled again.

You nodded blindly, gasping when he bit down on your flesh. His hand suddenly left your neck to brush down your front, tweaking your nipple, and settled onto the waistband of your shorts. His eyes met yours through the haze of lust you two were choking on, and you gave him a nod of consent. He deftly unbuttoned the garment, hips not ceasing for a moment as his fingers glided down your abdomen. 

The first contact his fingers made with your clit was explosive. Your back arched off the wall, mouth falling open on a silent scream. He nudged against your bundle of nerves twice, before moving down your wetness to sink two of his gorgeously slender fingers into you. You had been flooding your panties since the moment your eyes met. Both his fingers slid right in. His hips stuttered to a halt, lips falling open on a gasp. Your hand left his head to clutch at his shoulder, pulling him in further when he let go of your knee.

“You are soaking, baby,” he breathed, awe and surprise spilling off his throaty timbre. His fingers curved in you, rubbing against that spot inside of you that had taken you months to locate properly. He did it in under five seconds, and now he was playing you like a violin. You were gonna die!!! Your eyes fell shut again. His fingers were merciless, massaging your insides and pushing against your warmth. “Yes, you like that? Do you like that baby, hm?”

You managed a broken nod, gasps layering on one on top of the other. “T—Tae…Tae…”

“Come on, my love. Let go,” he whispered, swiping his tongue over your trembling lips before latching onto them.

A stroke of thumb against your clit, and you fell apart with a vibrating groan into his mouth. The knot tightening in your stomach suddenly expanded into a tsunami of sensations that travelled down to every single nerve ending in your body. Your walls clenched around his fingers as waves over waves of blinding, white pleasure crashed into you. Your legs jittered beneath you, spasming beyond your control.

It took you longer than a few seconds to come back to the land of living. You were not used to this.

You opened your eyes excruciatingly slow, as if waking up from unconsciousness. But when you did, Taehyung had already extracted his hand back from you, righted your bra, buttoned up both of your garments, and was now licking your wetness off his fingers with his eyes shut. The sight made you thump back against the wall, jolting his hand that was holding onto your waist and making him open his eyes in surprise.

You looked at him from under your lashes, your chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. “What…” you panted, “the hell…”

Taehyung had a starved look in his eyes when he met yours that, despite just having had the best orgasm of your entire life, made you wanna throw him on his back and ride him to the high heavens. “I take it you liked that,” he murmured, cradling your waist in his arms.

“Liked it? Are you insane?” you scoffed. “Taehyung, I…” you heaved a breath out, picking up your leaden arms to rest against his shoulders. “I couldn’t breathe. It was unlike anything I’ve ever felt,” you whispered, feeling vulnerable and at the same time protected.

Taehyung, contrary to your expectations, gave you a sincere smile instead of the smirk you’d envisioned. “Makes me the happiest man. I love you so much, you know?”

You giggled, pulling your lips in. “I love you, too, you insanely insanely sexy man,” you teased, making him scrunch up his nose in embarrassment. Something poked your thigh when you shuffled closer to him, and you gasped. “Babe, what about you… your… um.” Your wide eyes pointed down at his nearly fully erect member. 

Taehyung gave a laugh. “Well, we can always go back to the dorms and take care of it together,” he suggested, making your cheeks flame up and your battered pussy reignite in excitement. “I was dry humping you like a thirteen-year-old. Couldn’t let our first sexual encounter be about that.”

“You were lucid enough to think about all that?” you asked him, genuinely curious.

“No, that was a lie.” Taehyung gave you a bashful shake of head. “I was a goner, babe. I just…” His tongue came out to lick at his lower lip. “I just had this sudden urge to feel you. Couldn’t control it.”

You shakily exhaled. “Your fingers are amazing. No, you are amazing,” you mumbled, leaning in to press a kiss against his lips. You suddenly pulled back with your eyes wide. You looked around the hall, frenetically. “Wait, this place doesn’t have cameras, does it?”

Taehyung laughed with his lips pursed. “Of course not, darling. Who do you think I am?”

“A really sexy guy who missed his girlfriend?” you teased again, and this time, he kissed you in retaliation.

Pulling away, he looked at you with stars in his eyes. “Wait,” he mumbled, reaching into his pocket for something.

You had a guess what it could be. 

Pulling out a plastic case that obviously housed a ring, Taehyung sucked in his lower lip as he looked at you. Pinning you against the mirror, he popped the box open between your faces. Your eyes left his to look at the ring — a simple, silver band with a dainty knot embossed on it. Your eyes watered.

“It’s beautiful,” you mumbled through a clogged throat.

“My angel, my other half, the love of my life,” Taehyung whispered, paying no heed to the tear that travelled down his cheek, “do you promise to be mine forever?”

You sobbed. Clamping a hand over your mouth, you nodded, frantically. “Yes. Yes, I promise. I promise to be yours forever.”

He plucked the ring out of the box and slid it on your finger. Sobs wracked the two of you as you hopped into his arms, tucking your legs around his waist when he lifted you off the floor. “I love you so much, oh baby,” he sobbed into your neck.

“I love you, too, my love, I love you, too.”

Fifteen minutes later, after crying for a while, admiring how cute the ring looked on your hand, ensuring that Taehyung wasn’t even the slightest bit hard, and nearly leaving his phone behind again, the two of you exited rehearsal hall with your entwined hands swinging between you. 

“So,” Taehyung suddenly commented, a sly smirk on his face. “Bet you can’t get amnesia about coming for me in Hobi hyung’s rehearsal hall, huh? Even if you tried? Mission accomplished!” 

You gasped, raining down smacks on him right there, on the side of the road. He was gonna tease you about your wrong interpretation of that night, forever, it seemed.

“Hey, I was kidding!” Taehyung exclaimed, sheltering himself with his arms. “Let’s go ask hyung what he mixed with the vodka that gave you amnesia in the first place!” 

You stopped with your attack. That seemed like a great idea. You were dying to ask the man that, yourself. “Let’s.”

As you two walked back to the ice cream shop, your ring glinted, reflecting sunlight. You looked at Taehyung who was grinning to himself. 

You were the happiest, today, that you had ever been in your life.

note: angst by the virtue of miscommunication is my fav sort of angst to write. in the original draft, this story was to end when OC got back to Tae's dorm to sort things out, but then my mind said naAAHHH. mORE ANGST!!! lmao, anyways. thank you for reading! jin's story should be up next, if all goes according to plan. wait around~ 😘💕

© bangtae-sohotddaeng | 2021

[piquedpequod]

“Lonely Triple Agent,” or, “songs to play while apart from the man you are forgetting and remembering at once.” (Ocelot fanmix circa/post-TPP, all tracks from the 80s.)

Listen: (Youtube | Spotify)

Lyrics:

Mr. Disco – New Order How can I ever forget you You don't know Just what I've been through

I can't find my peace of mind Because I need you with me all of the time I used to think about you night and day I used to feel what language cannot say

I Could Show You How – Naked Eyes You've been away for so long You walked out on me There's no communication No letters for me And I wish that I could break this chain of reaction Turn my feelings into action If I only had you here now I could show you how

Two Divided By Zero – Pet Shop Boys (Two divided by zero, zero) (Divided by, divided by...) I think they heard a rumour Or someone tipped them off It’s better to go sooner Than call it all off

Crime of Passion - SPK These are the times when reason rules Knowledge is power, but power makes fools It seems to make no difference what we love We always hurt the one we love the most At night, you push me to the brink We've gone too far and now there's no return

It's a crime, give into this emotion It's a crime of passion It's a cold perpetual emotion It's a call to passion

Behind the Mask - Yellow Magic Orchestra Now the mask you're wearing Is stony and staring Lines and tears, age and fears Growing old, passions cold

There is nothing in your eyes That marks where you cried All is blank, all is blind Dead inside, the inner mind

Is it me, is it you Who wears another face Is it me, is it you Behind this mask, I ask

The Damned Don't Cry - Visage Traveling with no destination No place to go Nameless towns with faceless people No place I know

Time to close my mind and drift off To other scenes

Moments pass by, oh so slowly Makes me lonely too Twisting street light, in the darkness Makes me lonely too

Your Name (Has Slipped My Mind Again) - Ultravox It's hard to focus in this light I'm growing warm and feeling dull The heartbeat pounds with vicious fright There's something I remember I clench my fist but feel no sensation The walls around me spin and sway A flash back image in my vision I remember...

Oh, your name has slipped my mind again

Second Skin - The Chameleons One cold damp evening The world stood still I watched as I held my breath A silhouette I thought I knew Came through, someone spoke to me Whispered in my ear This fantasy's for you Fantasies are in this year

My whole life flashed, before my eyes I thought, what they say is true I've shed my skin And my disguise And cold and naked I Emerged from my cocoon And a half-remembered tune Played softly in my head, he said

He turned smiling And he said: I realize a miracle is due I dedicate this melody to you

Love My Way – Psychedelic Furs Love my way, it's a new road I follow where my mind goes So swallow all your tears, my love And put on your new face You can never win or lose If you don't run the race

Stripped – Depeche Mode You're breathing in fumes I taste when we kiss Take my hand Come back to the land Where everything's ours For a few hours

Let me see you Stripped down to the bone Let me hear you speaking Just for me

Mighty Shiver – The Twins And you know, I don’t ask whether I work too hard, when we’re together And you know, I won’t give in Until the last game is up And chances are nil I feel a mighty shiver It grips my mind in a vise like ice I feel a mighty shiver I feel fear but it feels so, so nice

Secret Separation – The Fixx We are passengers in time Lost in motion, locked together Day and night, by trick of light But I must take another journey We must meet with other names We must meet with other names

I'll bear one precious scar that only you will know

It’s Alright (Baby’s Coming Back) – Eurythmics And I'll be (your sharp intake of breath) And I'll be (your work, I'll take no rest) And when the world falls to decline I'll be yours and you'll be mine

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

(lmao at the progression of >before MGSV comes out: ooh drama! drama! let’s have all the doom & gloom! to >after playing MGSV: ocelot’s got new levels of screwy mind games to play with BB? kinky. time to crank the synths)

started may 2016, fin. april 2022.

[akemansimblog]

Life in the slave settlement was bearable. The Blacks and their baby Paul, a cunning, mocking slave named Inigo Sillivan, a young woman named Genia Wood, and a grim-looking fellow with the last name Floyd. That was what he called himself, without saying his name. Niels had seen a lot of different people in his short life, so he was not surprised. The first lot fell to Ver Black and Floyd. The rules called for them to face each other four times.

That's too bad," Inigo said when he heard the news. - She is weak and not ready to fight. The chosen slaves trained from dawn till dusk every day, and as soon as little Paul was a little older, they were taken to the amphitheater. The fight was fierce, watched by the Leafs who appeared, their noble servants, and also the Emperor himself passed by and joined in the viewing. Ver lost all four times - and died. With grief, her husband caught the flu, and he also beat up Niels, who gave the terrible news.

Shut up, puppy! - he shouted to the whole house, and looked around at those present with a hateful look. - I'll send Floyd after her, you cowards! With these words he retired to his bedroom and refused to come out for supper. Floyd stomped awkwardly in the yard, looking up at the darkening sky. Inigo, meanwhile, put plates of bread and meat on the table, sat down next to Gena, across from Nils, and looked at them conspiratorially.

We must run," he whispered. - We must run," he whispered. "And take the child with us.

Oh, let it go," Genia grimaced. - Do you like children so much?

No, but it's better to pass us off as a married couple. We'll dress you up as a noble woman and pass the boy off as a servant.

Damn you, Sylivan! The child has white curls!

Yeah," Inigo said with a smirk, "and I had a blond father.

Late that night, when everyone was asleep, the three slaves with the baby and the dog left the slave settlement. Inigo outwitted all the guards without flinching, and then got a beautiful outfit for Genia from somewhere. They settled on a tiny piece of land between West and North. There Inigo and Genia began to take a love interest in each other and were soon married. They all decided to raise Paul together, as they did to work and hide from the Imperial guards.

[snappedsky]

Fanatics 95.5

Doughboys vs Doughboys.

*Links to previous and next chapters in reblog*

--

Final Awakening: All or Nothing Part 5

           Jimmy, Krik, Dhillon, Tess, and Edgar lead Reverend Meat, Sickness, Shmee, and Nailbunny quickly through the underground halls.

           “How much farther?” Shmee asks as they go down yet another flight of stairs.

           “Not much,” Jimmy replies, “a couple floors.”            “You said that a couple floors ago,” Sickness grumbles.

           They all skid to a stop as they notice someone approaching them. Down the hall is a downtrodden Korean girl. She looks at them with mild surprise as she stops.

           “That’s Ki-Joo!” Tess gasps.

           “What is she doing?” Jimmy asks.

           They stare at each other for a second before the zombies and Night Terrors wordlessly step aside so Ki-Joo can pass. She does so quietly and they watch her head up the stairs.

           “Should we let her know about the fight going on?” Nailbunny asks.

           “Eh, she’ll realize eventually,” Reverend Meat shrugs and they continue on.

           Meanwhile, a couple floors up, Mr. Fuck and Psycho Doughboy have begun their battle with Nil and Señor Bondage.

           Señor Bondage lashes a pair of whips at them. They both dodge and draw weapons from their hats- Eff, a sword, and D-boy, a large mallet. Together, they charge the betas.

           Nil waves his hands, releasing a thin wave of blackness. The Doughboys duck under it and continue charging.

           “You think you can even touch me?” he taunts and throws out two blasts from both hands. The Doughboys are forced to retreat, back flipping away and diving through the hole in the floor Reverend Meat made.

          “This cramped hallway really dampens our agility,” Eff whines, “and if we’re hit by that blast, we’ll be turned to dust.”

           “Then we better deal with him first,” D-boy declares. They both nod agreeably.

           “Running away?” Nil sings and skips down the hall. As he approaches the hole, a blade jabs through the floor and right through his left foot.

           Nil cries out in pain as D-boy leaps up out of the hole. He swings his mallet, smashing Nil in the face and ripping his foot in half off the blade as he flies down the hall.

           Without skipping a beat, D-boy swings the mallet at Señor Bondage. He blocks with a strap and the hammer bounces off and smacks D-boy in the face.

           “Ow, what the fuck!” he cries as he stumbles back.

           Eff jumps up out of the hole and swings his knives at Señor Bondage. He blocks with the strap, the blades not even damaging it. Eff is so shocked, he can’t even dodge when Señor Bondage kicks him in the stomach. He stumbles back, gripping his abdomen as he crouches next to D-boy.

           “What are those straps made of?” Eff questions, flabbergasted. “They’re unbreakable.”

           “Yeah, I noticed,” D-boy grunts, wiping blood from his bruised face.

           They turn at the sound of grunting and see Nil struggling to his feet, keeping the weight off his injured foot.

           “You fucking assholes,” he snarls, “I’m gonna kill you!”

           “Move!” Eff exclaims as Nil sends a wave of blackness down the hall. The Doughboys try to flip away, but Señor Bondage catches them with his straps, wrapping them around their waists and stopping them in their tracks. They look back fearfully as the void approaches. Then they grab the straps and pull Señor Bondage out in front of them. The blast hits him straight-on, and he completely disappears.

           “No!” Nil cries.

           “Oh, shit that was close,” Eff sighs.

           “I’ll destroy you both!” he howls furiously, “I’ll destroy everything!”

           “Don’t blame us cause you killed your brother,” D-boy retorts.

           “Shut up!” he snaps and releases a large black blast. The Doughboys flip backwards and dive through the hole, but they’re just half a second too slow. They both cry as the blast connects with their legs, Eff’s left and D-boy’s right.

           “Yes!” Nil cheers and runs over to the hole. He expects to see nothing, but instead sees a trail of discoloured blood running along the floor.

           “What?” he questions and drops down. The blood leads over to the stairwell at the other end of the hall. He starts to charge over when he hears a voice.

           “I thought your little void trick was supposed to completely destroy us. I guess we’re just so powerful, you could only destroy the part it touched,” D-boy scoffs.

           “It sucks either way,” Eff adds, “cause if we’ve learned anything from our time as human, it’s that the power to create is far greater than just the power to destroy.”

           “We were given that power by Squee when he created our human bodies,” D-boy continues. “Now we can pull anything we want out of our hats. There are limitations but we can work around them to create whatever we want, even the power to destroy.”

           “And that’s why we’ll always be better than you.”

           Nil cautiously approaches the stairwell as they talk. Void energy swirls around his hands as he steps through the doorway to find two little Styrofoam figures of Mr. Fuck and Psycho Doughboy standing on a step.

           As he blinks with confusion, the real Doughboys drop down from the ceiling of the stairwell directly behind him. He turns as they click their tongues. They grin and point their hats at him, one inside the other with their hands through the opening.

           “Have your void back,” Eff grunts and they pull out their hands. A void blast is released right at Nil. He barely has time to scream before it hits him, and he disappears into nothingness.

           Eff and D-boy pant as they put their hats back on and look at each other. They’re leaning on each other as they’re both now missing a foot. Dark coloured blood dribbles from their ankle holes.

           “Think we’ll bleed out?” D-boy asks.

           “I think our bigger issue is not being able to walk properly,” Eff replies.

           “Even bigger than dying?”

           “We’re gonna die anyway, right?”

           “Right. We better catch up with the others then.”

           “Yeah, but first…” Eff grabs his hat and sticks his severed ankle into it. He pulls it back out with a wooden peg leg attached.

           “Not bad,” he comments as he steps on it and winces. “Kinda hurts.”

           “Not like we have actual medical help,” D-boy points out as he does the same thing with his leg.

           “Okay, let’s catch up with the others,” Eff orders. They hobble down the stairs, leaning against each other to keep from toppling over on their new legs.

[brock-boeswhore]

there NEEDS to be more nils höglander please, i’d read anything about him at this point🥺🥺

Unexpected丨Nils Höglander

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: You attend a Vancouver Canucks backyard summer party and meet the Canucks rookie for the first time, what will form when playing a classic childhood game?

A/N: Höggy is so underrated on here, it’s insane!! And this is my very first fanfic, so of course it’s gonna be about the little Swedish pepper pot!! Thank you so much Anon for helping me kick off this blog in style!! <33

Don’t forget to like or reblog and drop a follow!

It was a beautiful summer day in Vancouver to throw a backyard party, and that’s exactly what Holly and Bo Horvat decided to do. The boys had just been eliminated from the second round of the Stanley Cup Playoffs and with the off-season and the possibility of trades looming, they had decided to get everyone together one last time before everyone went their separate ways during the summer. Most of the Canucks players and their significant others were hanging out in Holly and Bo’s backyard with drinks in hand. And being extremely close friends with 2 of the Canucks young guns, Brock Boeser and Quinn Hughes, meant that you had been introduced to the players and their better halves a long time ago. You had grown close with many of the players and their significant others, particularly Elias Pettersson who had quickly become one of your many close friends. All of the ladies had welcomed you as an honorary WAG and you never looked back.

So here you were hanging by the pool wearing your favorite blue summer dress that grazed the ground with a White Claw in hand. You were walking around with Belle, Quinn’s girlfriend, by your side introducing her to everyone for the first time. She had a very bubbly and loving personality, just like you, which made it very easy for her to get along well with everyone. At some point the newlywed, Micaela Gaudette, and Holly had joined the two of you, as you all discussed your summer plans. It wasn’t long before the topic of conversation shifted to something a lot more lighthearted and goofy. Micaela had shown the three of you the video from her wedding where Adam attempted to give her a lap dance but proceeded to kick her in the face. This caused Holly to double over in laughter grasping onto Micaela’s arm to steady herself, while Belle let out a lighthearted giggle not feeling extremely comfortable about laughing at her newfound friends but finding the video hilarious. You on the other hand had thrown your head back in pure laughter and delight.

Unbeknownst to you the newest Canucks rookie had entered the backyard and joined Elias, Quinn, Brock, and Bo. The five of them watched on with amusement written on their faces as the 4 of you all laughed while looking at something playing on Micaela’s phone. Bo and Quinn watched with pure love and adoration at how happy their significant other looked, while Brock and Petey made mental notes to tease you on how you had reacted. Nils was absolutely captivated with how the sun hit your face and your body and how your laugh and smile brought out your seemingly carefree persona; everything about you entranced him and made him want to introduce himself to you.

The laughter between the 4 of you eventually died down and when it did, the group of boys had joined you all with Quinn walking behind and wrapping his arms around Belle. Brock shot you a look with a light chuckle over how smitten Quinn looked around Belle, while Petey came up from behind and wrapped you in a hug while he rested his chin on the top of your head in an attempt to silently make fun of your height. It’s then that you took notice of the brunette and how he had a light scowl etched on his face, you offered him a light smile in hopes of brightening his mood and it seemed to have worked. Eventually just about everyone at the party had joined your group and indulged in a group conversation. You and Nils had started to drift away from the large group in hopes of being able to formally introduce yourselves.

“Hey I don’t believe we’ve actually met before, I’m Y/N! You must be the infamous Nils Höglander, I’ve heard a lot of great things about you from all of the boys, especially Brock and Petey” you exclaimed cheerfully.

“Oh yup that’s me! It’s great to meet you Y/N'' he replied with a gentle smile on his face. “So ughhh you’re dating Petey right?” he asked you as politely as possibly not wanting to come across as jealous.

“Oh my god nope I’m definitely not dating Petey, I’m not dating anyone actually. I’m just here cause I’m really close with just about everyone.” You replied with extra exaggeration on the word ‘definitely’ when you had mentioned Petey’s name.

Nils wasn’t able to respond to your remark before Brock called you both over, but he did offer you a genuine and toothy grin while you made your way over to where Brock was standing. The group had decided on a large game of hide of seek. The only rule was that if you were a hider you could run and hide anywhere public within a 3 mile radius of Bo and Holly’s house. The seekers ended up being Thatcher, Brock, Petey, Micaela, Holly and Quinn. They had decided to give you all a 3 minute head start, and with that everyone took off their separate ways except for you and Nils who had opted to stick together for the round. You had lifted the skirt of your dress so that you could run easier without it dragging and slowing you down, and Nils chuckled at your actions which, in turn, caused you to laugh as well.

You and Nils eventually found the perfect hiding spot on the side of an abandoned building that was just within your given boundaries and shared a little giggle, but there was a shimmer of adoration towards the other in both of your eyes. At that exact moment you both heard Brock rounding the corner, you froze and stared at Nils with your eyes wide and jaw dropped. However Nils had a much better reaction than you as he grabbed a hold of your hand and led you towards some large empty trash bins which you both hid behind. After you had both caught your breath following the sudden scare you started to hear Brock getting closer and closer to you both yet again. And as it turns out Nils, ever the dork, isn’t exactly the best at keeping quiet because the next thing you know he’s busting out in a fit of giggles while tears start to trickle out from his eyes.

While you’re turned to Nils trying to shush your dork of a friend who’s currently collapsed on the floor from his laughter outburst, Brock stealthily rounds the corner of the garbage bins and sneaks up behind you while he yells out a very thunderous “BOO!” Which resulted in you letting out a terribly high pitched shriek.

“Y/N/N WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO, WAKE UP TORONTO?” jokingly yelled Brock who’s now in the middle of a laughter fit with you and Nils.

“I swear everyone back at the house could’ve heard your ear-deafening shriek…. EEEEEEE” Brock wheezed out before he mimicked you.

At this point Nils is still on the ground and absolutely losing his mind, and you and Brock both share a look because you just know there’s no bringing him back to reality anytime soon. So Brock then starts to lift Nils off of the concrete so the 3 of you can start to make your way back to the party, and once Nils is on his feet he grabs ahold of your hand and starts a light conversation as you all start to make your back to the party with Brock trailing closely behind not wanting to ruin your shared moment with his teammate.

Once you get back to the party everyone is already there and waiting for the three of you. There’s a healthy mixture of hoots and hollers because you and Nils passed through the backyard gate hand in hand, and snickers because as Brock had previously sworn- your shriek was heard at the Horvat backyard party. After everyone FINALLY let you and Nils live down your public show of affection and your soon to be infamous shriek, the party went on as normal but not without you exchanging numbers with the Swedish rookie and planning your first real date!

[joshuas]

pick-up lines 101

♫ pairing: Lee Felix x Reader

♫ genre: college/university student!au, slice-of-life, crack (the entire concept), fluff

♫ word count: 10.4k 

♫ warnings: Nil of note!

♫ summary: A continuation on from the Chan drabble - an utterly ridiculous fic, where Felix and the reader (who unenthusiastically) go to literal extremes to break the two up, whilst falling for each other along the way.

♫ a/n: The second addition to my Christmas oneshots! Enjoy this high-key chaotic fic! I’m sorry that it’s 10k - I think I got a little carried away (╥﹏╥).  This drabble is entirely fictional, please do not take any of Felix’s actions to heart (because he’s a sweetheart and we all know it). 

♫ fyi: Reader 1 (Chan’s lover) is often referred to as “Mariah Carey/playlist lover” just to be gender neutral!

♫ skz christmas oneshots: 1|2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

“Let me get this straight... you want me to help break up Chan and... what’s their name- Mariah Carey lover, just so that Chan can give you pick-up lines again? Even though you’re the reason they started dating?” You leaned back against your chair, raising your eyebrows at the boy in front of you. “Well. Yes. And... Mariah Carey lover? You seriously don’t remember their name?” Your friend, Felix, raised his eyebrows. “All I care is that the person is now identifiable to me. Names are so arbitrary.” You dismissed nonchalantly. “Okay... but will you help me?” Felix turned to you with puppy dog eyes. “You know puppy dog eyes don’t work on me but whatever. I’ll help.” You got up, placing your books in your bag as Felix swiftly helped you clean up. “Oh, Y/N. You have no idea how much this means to me.” He draped his arm around your shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze before releasing as the two of you exited the library. “Oh, I think I do...” You muttered as Felix excitedly explained his long-winded and elaborate plan to ‘save Chanlix’.

“C‘mon Chan hyung. It’ll be fun!” “I don’t know, Felix... wouldn’t Y/N be third-wheeling?” You observed the situation in front of you, casually eating your fairy floss as Felix looked to you for help in his mission to convince Chan to do a ‘how well do you know your partner?’ challenge at the local Christmas fair. “I don’t think Y/N really cares. Come on, hyung. If you’re not doing it for me, do it for the prize!” Felix pleaded with Chan. “The prize being... a book of ‘pick-up lines to keep your relationship fresh and interesting!’?” Chan raised his eyebrows at you. 

You shrugged your shoulders, “He’s been your friend longer than mine.” “See! Y/N’s so unbothered. Please, hyung. I’ll do anything.” Felix pleaded. “...Alright. Let’s line up.” Chan reluctantly followed an excited Felix, as you trudged slowly after them.

The line was ridiculously long. Taking you half an hour to get to the front of the line, you were just about done with Felix’s antics. As Felix handed in the answers to the two questionnaires, Chan’s phone buzzed. Quickly typing a reply, his face lightened up as he waved someone over.

“Hey, Felix, I hope you don’t mind but I think I’ll partner with umm... my beloved on this one. And hey, Y/N’s here, so you can get that awesome prize with them!” Chan patted Felix on the back, his partner *cough cough* beloved approached him, pushing him lightly for being so “cringy”. Felix nodded, slightly devastated, forcing a smile as Chan and his partner walked past him, taking a seat with the other contestants. Mulling over his thoughts, Felix paced the floor as you watched more and more couples sign up for the contest. His features lightened, and as if struck by an amazing idea, he pulled you towards the sign up desk, “Do we really have to do this?” You groaned as Felix signed you up, determined. “Even though this wasn’t supposed to happen, I have just been presented with the perfect way to show Chan that I’m better than his significant other.” You looked at him confusedly, “How... are you going to do that, exactly?” “By winning.” He said, tone as if he were stating the obvious, “So, get your game face on, Y/N. We’re going to wipe the floor with them.” “Totally...”

The game was heated. You were utterly confused as to why people were so fiercely competitive to get a book of pick up lines. Don’t these people have anything better to do? “And now we have Bang Chan! Would you please come to the stage with your partner?” The MC’s voice rang out clearly across the stage, snapping you out of your reverie. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Felix lean forward, anxiously tapping his foot. “So, like all the other contestants have done, I’ll ask a couple of questions and we’ll see if your partner’s answers match with yours on the questionnaire. However, you can only win if both of you are able to answer as many questions about each other correctly.” The MC explained for the billionth time as Chan flashed an encouraging smile towards his partner. “Hey, Felix? Haven’t they been friends since childhood? How do you even expect us to have a chance?” You asked, doubtful. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I have a plan.” Felix reassured you, his eyes glued on the couple on stage. Oh, great. “First question! Ooh this is interesting. If Chan wasn’t studying music currently, what would he be doing?” Before anyone could answer, Felix yelled from his seat, “He’d be an actor or an athlete. He’d also be a kangaroo, if he could be... which I don’t really understand since they’re literally a pest species.” “Correct? Regardless of whoever answered, the points go to you guys.” The MC chuckled, slightly confused, as Chan and his partner tentatively high-fived each other. “Next question! What is Chan’s favourite season?” The MC looked pointedly at Mariah Carey playlist lover. As they opened their mouth to speak, Felix sighed loudly, “This is too easy. It’s Autumn, obviously.” You turned to Felix, embarrassed, as heads turned towards where the two of you were seated. “GeT rEaDy, Y/N. We’Re gOinG tO wiPe tHe fLoOr wiTh tHeM.” You mocked, imitating his earlier statement. “You do realise that if you keep answering the questions, they’ll end up winning. If I remember correctly, you wanted to beat them, not help them.” You hissed, annoyed at his impulsiveness. “Plans can be slightly altered. It’ll work out.” Felix shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. You pinched the bridge of your nose, Honestly, this boy only runs off two brain cells. To think of the lengths he’d go to just be told pick up lines from Chan. You’d think that he was fighting to the death for his beloved... “Haha... another point to the couple. Honestly, you guys won’t have to do anything to win at this point.” The MC pointed out awkwardly. “Let’s move onto the next question. This is easy. What is Chan’s favourite hobby?” The MC’s smile faltered as Felix stood up, everyone directing their attention towards him once again, “He loves to play sport!” You sunk low into your seat, pulling the hood of your hoodie over your head as you avoided the heavy gaze of the other contestants and other onlookers. Tugging Felix back to his seat, he slowly sat down as the MC looked at the two of you and Chan and his partner confusedly, “Ha... maybe the two of you should have partnered up.” He pointed to Chan and Felix who was adamantly glaring at the bewildered couple. “Right, so another point to the two of you. Let’s move on...” The game continued, Felix answering every single question as you cringed at his eagerness... until it came to Mariah Carey person’s turn. From then, he sat in stony silence, glaring at the couple as Chan answered every question correctly.

“Onto our next couple! Y/N and... Felix.” You sat down in the seat opposite Felix on the stage, mentally running through everything you know about him. “First question! Remember, it’s important that the both of you answer correctly, in order to win. What is Felix’s favourite colour?” You exhaled in relief, okay. These questions are kind of reasonable, “Black.” “Correct! Ooh, looks like Chan’s going to have to look out!” Your answer streak continued, with you answering the questions almost immediately. They weren’t too ridiculous (which you hadn’t expected, considering Felix). Eventually came Felix’s turn, “Alright, Felix. Let’s hope you know Y/N as well as you do Chan.” The audience chuckled at the MC’s comment as Felix flushed awkwardly (the boy was finally embarrassed istg). “Looks like the two of you were on the same wavelength! What is Y/N’s favourite colour?” An awkward silence filled the stage as Felix looked at you with utter panic. You shook your head in disappointment. Surely. Surely he kno— “Uhh turquoise?” Turquoise???? This boy. Honestly. “Incorrect! What a shame. Let’s move onto the next question.” As the game went on, awkward silences patterned with the MC’s new favourite response of ‘incorrect!’ 

“It’s a real shame that you and Chan weren’t partnered together.” The MC patted Felix’s back sympathetically as you headed back to the contestants whilst Chan and his partner collected their prize, Chan cracking the cheesiest of pickup lines on his very much embarrassed significant other, “You know, my shirt’s so soft. Do you know what material it’s made of? Boyfriend material.” “Oh my god, Chan, stoppp.” As the crowd dissipated, you stood, beckoning Felix to walk with you, “I thought you wanted to win.” You said dryly, as Felix turned to you, defensive, “How am I supposed to know the intimate and in-depth details of your life?” “Favourite colours are hardly intimate, and generally friends are supposed to listen to each other, and talk to each other about their interests?” You raised your eyebrows. He sighed in defeat, “You’re right. I’m sorry. How about we grab a hot chocolate and you can tell me all the answers to those questions.” He held out his hand to you. You looked at it questioningly, slowly taking it, interlocking your fingers with his, ignoring the fluttering of your heart, “I know you’re only doing this so that I can help you but I’m far too hungry to care about your motives.” “Of course not. It’s just also the perfect time to talk about our next course of action. Amongst talking about you, obviously.” “Sure...”

Impatiently tapping your foot as you waited in line to ‘confront Chan’, you turned to glare at Felix who was seated in his car just outside the cafe. Taking out your phone, you texted him, [10:38] Remind me again of what I have to do and why I’m doing this? [10:40] (Felix) You really don’t remember?? [10:40] to be fair, it’s an elaborate plan... [10:41] (Felix) fine. Basically you have to approach Chan hyung and give him a pick up line. Then I’ll walk in, and he’ll use it on me, and all order in the world will be restored. As to why you’re doing this... you’re doing it because you looooooooove me 😌 [10:42] More like haaaaaate but whatever. wouldn’t it seem like I was hitting on him?? [10:43] (Felix) 😭 😭 you wound me with your words, y/n. We all know that I’m your favourite person and you’d do anything for me. It should be fine. [10:44] I could leave this cafe and never talk to you again [10:45] (Felix) No!! Y/N pleaseeeee do this for me. I’ll ✨ love ✨ you forever ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ Ignoring the skip of your heart at his text, you rolled your eyes, Get a grip, Y/N. This guy clearly only has eyes for a certain pick-up lines guy. [10:46] nobody wants that. I’ll do it because I’m a good person. Please revoke your hearts. [10:47] (Felix) Neverrrrr ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ [10:47] (Felix) oh! You’re up in line!! Go! You got this!!  Steeling yourself, you smiled as you approached the counter Chan was working at, “Hey, Y/N! How are you?” Chan greeted you cheerfully, dimples on full display. Ahh too bright. My eyes— his smile’s too charming. I kind of understand why the whole playlist thing went well. “Heyyy Chan! I’m good. How do you brew?” You laughed awkwardly, internally cringing. “Oh, I’m brewing good too. Can I get you anything?” He grinned at your pun. “Uh— just a latte for me, thanks.” You panicked, stating the first thing you saw on the menu. “One latte coming right up. So, how’s Felix? I haven’t seen him since the festival. I know he really wanted that pick up line book.” He looked at you, his eyes slightly guilty as he started the espresso machine. You could say that... “Yeah, he’s been taking it... pretty hard. How have you been finding the book?” You asked. “The book’s pretty cool, actually. I’ve come across some pretty great pick up lines. Oh! There’s this one where—“ You cut him off as he poured in two teaspoons of sugar, regurgitating the pick up line Felix had forced you to practice repeatedly in the car beforehand. “I have a better one- hold the sugar, please. You’re sweet enough for me.” Ughhhhhh. Ugh. That was— ugh. I should start apologising. Chan’s eyes widened, his expression similar to a deer caught in headlights, “I— Wow! You’re just full of creativity, Y/N. Look at you, two pick up lines in one morning. I’m going to have to use them on my partner, now.” He laughed awkwardly. “No!” You interjected. “No?” You took a deep breath, “You can only use them on your best friend.” “Is this like one of those ‘repost this chain or you’ll die in 13 days or something like that’ things but in real life?” Chan questioned, confused. You turned around, not-so-subtly beckoning Felix to come into the cafe. “Haha... what??? Oh and just to be clear, I wasn’t hitting on you, so can you please continue putting in the sugar?” “I know. It’s pretty obvious that you have feelings for— Oh hey Felix! I— oof!” He stumbled backwards from the impact of someone— oh it’s his playlist lover, wrapping him into a hug. “Hey. What’s up?” He released them, looking at them concerned. “Nothing. I just missed you today.” “Oh that reminds me. Y/N told me these epic pick up lines. I have to use them on you...” I mean. They are best friends... You looked apologetically at Felix who stood, his jaw clenched, passively fuming as he observed the couple from the door, “Felix, I’m really sorry that your plan failed again.” You patted his back sympathetically. “It’s fine... we just have to come up with something more attention grabbing!” He nodded resolutely, leading you out of the cafe. “Wait— I left my coffee!” “There’s no time to lose, Y/N. I’ve already come up with our next plan.” Oh no.

The next phase of the plan was... extravagant to say the least. Felix hadn’t told you much but seeing the long to-do list he had written out... it was a bit much. Approaching the art department, you knocked on the door of the workshop whilst Felix strode confidently past you. Upon hearing the knock and Felix’s footsteps, a brown-haired boy looked up from what looked like it was supposed to be a sculpture but was really just a blob of clay, “Minho hyung... my man! My bro! What’s up?” Felix clapped the boy’s shoulder. You shook your head in disgust, Why is he so cringy? The boy - Minho, narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, “What do you want, Felix?” “Why do people always assume that I want anything? What if I just wanted to hang out with my dearest friends without any motives except for showing my appreciation for you guys being in my life?” Felix raised his hands in surrender defensively. “Hell would have to freeze over for that to happen.” You hummed, Minho snorting at your comment as Felix clutched his chest in mock offence. “Well, as you can see, no one buys your sentiment, so tell me what you want.” Minho sighed. “You both wound me with your verbal warfare, but... I actually need a favour.” Felix stated tentatively. “A favour?” Minho raised an eyebrow. “I need you to make me a life sized present.” He said seriously. Do you ever look at someone and wonder what on earth is going on in their head? Yeah, there’s no point on doing that for Felix. Nothing can explain what goes on in there. “I need to what? Why?” Minho looked at Felix, incredulous. “That’s on a need-to-know basis and you don’t need to know. Look, all I need you to do is find a human-sized box and decorate it with wrapping paper and whatnot. Just make it look like a present.” Felix explained, slightly impatient. “...why me?” Minho asked, reluctant. “You’re an art major, right? This’ll be in your ballpark. I give you full creative liberty. Just make it look as pretty and realistic as possible.” Felix clapped Minho’s back, waving as he exited the workshop. You gave Minho an apologetic glance before chasing after Felix. “...but I’m an accounting major.” Minho sighed, defeated.

“Y/N, Minho hyung just dropped off the present! Come look at it!” Felix called from the foyer. The two of you were currently “house sitting” Chan’s apartment. Technically Chan didn’t ask you guys to, since he was only going away for a day. However, Felix insisted on it, using the excuse of ‘watering Chan’s plants’ to execute his plan. Chan doesn’t have any plants. Ignoring Felix’s poor attempt at a cover, Chan let Felix do whatever but gave clear instructions to not break or burn anything. Wandering over to Felix, you gaped at the... present in front of you. On the floor, in front of you, was literally just a human-sized cardboard box (that was falling apart, the clear sticky tape holding the corners together by a thread) with random Christmas wrapping adorning the sides of it, alongside a lid (with breathing holes) and a bow on top. Minho must be a modern art student or something, because this is... interesting to say the very least (no offence to modern art students/artists - love y’all). “It’s so beautiful!” Felix fussed over it, his eyes sparkling with excitement and awe. Of course Felix would like it. I guess art truly is in the eye of the beholder. “So, are you going to tell me what you’re going to do with that?” You crossed your arms over your chest staring pointedly at the box. “I’m going to hide in this present until Chan hyung comes back from his hometown tomorrow morning at nine on the dot. Chan hyung will see this mysterious package in the living room and his curiosity will force him to open it, revealing me! I’ll give him a pick-up line, he’ll laugh and we’ll both live happily ever after.” “Not to rain on your Disney princess movie parade but I don’t think you’ve thought any of the logistics through. How are you—“ “Y/N, stop. Let a professional work their work. Don’t worry, I’ve figured everything out.” He waved his hand dismissively, picking up the box and beckoning you to grab the other side. “Don’t come crawling back to me when you need help. Or food.” You warned.

“Just sit still! Stop moving! Otherwise I’ll duct tape your hands together.” You waved the duct tape roll threateningly as Felix fidgeted in the box. On the way to the living room, the box had decided to collapse in on itself as you had expected. Felix, being Felix, was distraught, causing you to be here now fixing the box up with duct tape as Felix sniffed sadly at its unfortunate demise. “I’m sorry, Y/N! Please don’t! How would I be able to eat?” He surrendered, eyes wide. “That’s for you to figure out and for me not to care about. Lucky for you, I’m not that cruel.” You stuck the last piece of tape on the box, dusting your knees as you stood, helping Felix move closer to the Christmas tree in the corner of the room. “Okay, so this is where I leave you.” “You’re leaving already??” Felix pouted, your heartbeat quickening, He really wants to hang out with me? No... He’s probably just worried he’ll be bored. “It wasn’t really at the top of my Christmas wish list to spend Christmas Eve with a man stuck in a life sized present waiting for his friend to come home so that he can give him a pick-up line. I also wouldn’t dare ruin your future moment with Chan. You have your phone, right? Call me if you need me.” You sighed, grabbing your keys as you stuck the lid on Felix, he let out a muffled “bye” as you left the apartment.

“Y/N? Can you pick me up? I’m scared.”

“Y/NNNN I’m bored. Come over.” “Tell me what you think of this pick-up line...” Swiftly deleting the 40 voicemails Felix had left you overnight, you rolled your eyes, a small (but uncontrollable) smile forming on your face at his dramatics. Okay, you were kind of fond of Felix’s theatrics. Not that it matters, though. You sighed, rolling out of bed. It was a bit tiring - having to foster feelings towards someone that doesn’t feel the same way. Just be a good friend, Y/N. That’s all that matters right now. Your phone buzzed, the caller ID showing Felix. You sighed, picking up the phone, “He—“ “Y/N? You need to come. Like now.” Felix whispered hurriedly. “Why?” You raised your eyebrows at his urgency. “Why? Chan hyung was two hours late. He came back at 11 instead of nine. And guess who he came home with?” “Playlist lover.” You answered instantly, getting ready to pick him up. “Exactly. And y’know what they’ve been doing for the past hour and a bit? Making gingerbread and being a ridiculous, annoyingly cute couple. So now I’m hungry and... I really need to go to the bathroom.” He whined. “Can I just say that you really did not figure out the logistics in this plan.” You pointed out. “Logistics don’t matter when it comes to friendship!” He whispered dramatically. “Whatever. Look, I have a plan. You just need to trust me on this one.” You said, pulling a ‘disguise’ out of your closet. “Somehow that doesn’t give me comfort because normally I’m the one who makes the plans in this relationship.” “And look at how that turned out for you. I’ll see you in a bit!” You hung up on him, grabbing your car keys and heading out.

Dressed in the daggiest of outfits (lots and lots of flannel and a low cap), you knocked on the door to Chan’s apartment, revealing a floury Bang Chan and his even more floury significant other, “Y/N, is that you?” “Huh—“ you cleared your throat, deepening your voice, “uh, no. I’m their cousin. Hence, the resemblance.” “Okay... how can I help you, then?” He asked, his tone uncertain. “Oh. Well. I was hoping that I could inspect the place. I’m... your new landlord!” You exclaimed, recalling the notice you had seen around the complex. “Oh? Of course! The notices did say that you were coming for inspections.” He ushered you in, showing you through to the living room. Your eyes landed on the ‘present’ in the corner of the room. I need to get them out of here somehow. “Oh! I think I can smell something burning. You might want to check that out. Could you also point me towards the bathroom?” You asked innocently. “Ah! Of course. It’s the first room to the right in the hallway.” He gestured towards the hall as he and his partner ran to the kitchen. Rushing over to Felix, you grunted, dragging the box as quickly as you can into a room that resembled a studio. Grabbing out a pocket knife, you tore through the duct tape, lifting the lid as Felix scrambled out of the box and to the bathroom, shooting you a relieved smile. This boy. Honestly, why does he do this to himself? Hearing footsteps approaching, you panicked, hopping into the box, closing the lid on you. “Why are you in the box?” Felix approached, drying his hands hurriedly. “I thought you were Chan...” You awkwardly stepped out. “It doesn’t matter anymore! Let’s go!” He whispered hurriedly, heading towards the door as you pulled him back. “Well... you can’t come out the front with me...” you scanned the room, your eyes locking on the window in front of you. Felix followed your gaze, terror filling his eyes, “Y/N! I can’t do that! It’s so high!” He clung to you as you pushed him towards the window. “We’re literally on the ground floor. The height difference between this window and the ground is probably at half your height at most.” You flicked his hands off you, as he slowly sat on the ledge of the window as you opened the window, the cold air greeting you. “No! Y/N, I can’t do it. It’s too—“ His protesting cut off as you lightly pushed him, causing him to stumble off the ledge, tripping and falling to the ground as he landed on the thick snow outside the complex. Instantly, he lay down, yelling incoherent dramatics. Holding back your laughter, you chucked the present box next to him and shut the window, “Merry Christmas!” You re-emerged from the hallway. Somehow Chan and his Mariah Carey playlist lover were looking worse — icing adorned and everything. Oh my gosh. They’re that cliche fanfic couple that make a huge mess when cooking together. How disgusting. “Thank you for allowing me to use your bathroom. I’ll be heading out now.” “Really? What about the inspection?” Chan questioned, eyes wide. “Oh everything’s fine. Okay, bye!” You started towards the front door as Chan blocked your exit. “Wait! We just wanted to give you these gingerbread cookies. You basically saved them and we felt bad that you had to work on Christmas.” He handed the cookies to you, his tone pitiful. “Oh. Well if you insist, who am I to refuse?” You waved at them as you left the complex just as someone dressed in basically the same outfit as you approached their door, “Excuse me! Mr Bang Chan? I’m your new landlord. I came for an inspection?” They yelled, as your eyes widened in horror, bolting as fast as you could out of the complex. “I like your outfit, by the way!” They yelled after you. You caught up to Felix as he waited outside your car. “Now do you have faith in my plans?” You crossed your arms over your chest, still slightly out of breath. You thought back to the narrow escape you had with the actual landlord, Gosh, literally the first time someone compliments me for my fashion sense, it’s when I’m trying to dress up like them unintentionally.  “If I say yes, will you give me a cookie?” “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, hey Y/N and Felix. Thanks for taking care of my house whilst we were away. I’m glad to see that nothing broke or burnt.” Chan brought Felix into a bro hug thing as you handed his partner a basket of gingerbread cookies, entering the Christmas-themed household. “It’s not like you weren’t about to burn the house down by yourselves.” You muttered. “Hm?” Chan looked at you expectantly. “Oh! I said... I didn’t burn the gingerbread.” You pointed at the basket of gingerbread. “You know! That’s so funny. We nearly burnt down the house a couple of days ago with our Christmas cookies.” Chan and his partner laughed nervously. “We know.” Felix blurted out. You elbowed Felix, panicked. “I see you still have your decorations up.” You said quickly changing the topic, taking in the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling and the tinsel adorned shelves. “Yeah, well we wanted to have a Christmas party but both of us went home on Christmas and it’s not illegal to have Christmas decorations up two days after Christmas.” Chan explained, handing you both mugs of eggnog. “Actually, it is. But I’ll put up with your offence.” You smirked, sipping at your eggnog. “Thank you for your everlasting generosity, Y/N. Now, you two should go and enjoy the party.” Chan clapped your backs, pushing you and Felix into the party scene. “So... what’s the plan?” You turned to Felix who was observing the couple. “Honestly, Y/N, this is my last shot.” He sighed, exhausted. “Okay... and what are you going to do?” You looked at him, concerned at his sudden dampen in mood. “I’m going to give him a pick up line.” He said triumphantly. “Um. Haven’t you been trying to do that the entire time?” You questioned, confused. “And this is the last time I’m trying that. I’m going to give him one so that he’ll be left with no choice but to fall on his knees, weeping huge tears of regret as he struggles to give me one that matches it’s sheer brilliance.” He explained (dramatically). “Sure. Come find me when you’ve had the happily ever after we’ve all been waiting for.” You shot him a quick smile before moving off to talk to playlist lover.

Soft jazz versions of classic Christmas songs played as people departed from the party.

Walking over to the hallway, you stopped, looking at a dejected Felix leaning against the wall.

“How did it go?” You said, tentatively approaching him.

“What can I say? He’s in love.” He sighed defeatedly.

“Let me guess, he used it on playlist lover?” You asked bluntly.

He nodded dejectedly.

You sighed, steeling yourself, glancing up at the mistletoe between the two of you,

It’s now or never, Y/N.

“I must be a snowflake. Because I’ve fallen for you.”

A shocked silence fell over the two of you as you stumbled to recover your dignity.

“I—“

“Say that again.”

“Huh?”

“The pick up line. Say it again.”

“...I must be a snowflake. Because I’ve fallen for you.” You muttered.

“That... do you mean that?”

“Well. Yes. In a sense because I’m not a snowflake. That’s just weird. Why did I say that? I also don’t think anyone that only liked you as a friend would go to such lengths to help salvage a friendship you don’t really need to salvage. Look, obviously the dynamic between you and Chan has changed since he got a girlfriend. But hey, if you feel the same way, I could be the Chan to your Felix. In a romantic manner, obviously... perhaps as your partner?” You looked nervously at the ground.

“You really like me? After everything I put you through?” He asked, incredulous.

“Although it was extremely ridiculous, it was entertaining... and we got to spend time together.” You quietened your voice for the last part.

“Well, we must both be snowflakes because I’ve fallen for you too.” He lifted your chin, eyes interlocked with yours.

“That was really cheesy.” You murmured.

“Hey, you’re the one that used it on me first.” Felix defended.

“Mmk. Well. For this to work you need to—“ He interrupted you, capturing your lips with his briefly.

“Did that make up for it?” He stepped back, breathless.

“Th-that was cheesy too.” You stuttered, shocked.

“Well, our relationship hasn’t exactly been cliche until now.”

“Ah yes, kissing under the mistletoe. It’s almost like the ending of a Christmas classic movie.” You sighed.

“Almost?” Felix raised an eyebrow.

“Minus the pick up lines.”

“Yeah, well you’re roped into this now. You’ve given me the expectation that you’ll give me a pick up line every time you see me.” He smirked.

“No. I refuse.” You grabbed your bag, waving at Chan and his partner as you exited his apartment, Felix on your heels.

“Three a day?”

“One.”

➳ part three?  |  masterlist!

[lillupon]

Soccer players!Minwon enemies to lovers

available on twitter

minwon w photoshoot encouraged me to dust off the soccer players!minwon enemies-to-lovers fic i wrote 4 years ago and never posted. i thought it was too ooc even for a fanfic, and they hated each other so much that i couldn't make them smooch lovingly ;;

reading this whole thing makes me scream omfg i can’t believe i wrote this LMAO it’s so far out of leftfield for me

The ball comes hurtling through the air and Mingyu launches himself into the opposite corner of the goal, just barely getting his hands around it. Hitting the ground knocks all the breath right out of him, but the ball is safely tucked against his stomach. He’s on his feet less than a second later.

“Fucking wake up!” Mingyu screams at his defenders, and in particular, Wonwoo. They’ve been sleepwalking through the entire game so far. Reacting seconds too late. From where he’s standing, his teammates look like they’re watching with their fingers up their noses as the ball sails over their heads. 

“You can fuck right off, Mingyu!” Wonwoo flips the finger as he jogs backward.  

Seething, Mingyu throws the ball towards Seungcheol, far away from Wonwoo, just out of spite. He can’t stand that guy. Wonwoo’s a mouthy son of a bitch. Thinks he’s hot shit just because he’s signed for half a million dollars a year and makes more money off endorsements than the rest of the team combined.

It’s only been thirty minutes and Mingyu feels like he’s been playing for hours. He’s heaving for breath. Pissed off at his defenders for letting the ball slip between their legs. If they had been doing their jobs properly, the other team should never have been close enough to even attempt a shot. But mostly, Mingyu’s frustrated at himself for letting in three goals. He’s getting sloppy, he knows. The pressure is getting to him. It’s a high-stakes game, one that will either bring in the sponsors or have their current ones jumping ship. The way things are going now? Mingyu may as well pull his pants down and present his ass for the reaming he’s going to get from their coach.

The referee blows the whistle, signalling the end of the first half of the game. They’re down four nil and the morale of the entire team is starting to flag. They want to give up, Mingyu can tell. It’s almost impossible to recover, especially since no one’s head is in the game. Mingyu can’t talk, either. He can barely see straight past the red haze clouding his vision.

He storms into the locker room without a single glance at his teammates. He yanks off his gloves and whips them into the far wall. They’re made of fabric, but when they hit the wall, it sounds like a gunshot going off.

Someone grabs Mingyu by the shoulder and wheels him around. He comes face-to-face with Wonwoo who looks as angry and frustrated as Mingyu feels. His brows are drawn into a furious vee and his cheeks are blotchy with red. He gives a shove that has Mingyu stumbling back into the lockers with a metallic rattle.

“What the fuck was that?” Wonwoo snarls.

“That’s what I want to ask you! Because it’s looking to me like you’re playing for the other team. Is someone paying you to throw the game?”

Wonwoo scoffs. “Oh, fuck off. You’re acting like it wasn’t you who let in all those goals.”

“Those goals would never have happened if you were doing your job properly, and you know that.”

“Yeah, just pin your failures on me,” Wonwoo says. “I wasn’t the one looking the other way when number fourteen scored.”

“I don’t think you understand how this game works. If you were doing your job properly, number fourteen shouldn’t have even gotten to me.”

“Sure, let your defenders do all the work. I guess you’re just getting paid to scratch your ass out there,” Wonwoo sneers. 

A growl rips from Mingyu’s chest and he lunges, arms outstretched. Suddenly, Seungcheol is there, restraining him with an arm around his waist. Mingyu shoves him off.  Doesn’t take his eyes off Wonwoo for a second. With a huff, Mingyu yanks down his jersey to straighten it out.

“What the hell’s the matter with you two? You guys are teammates, not on opposing sides of a war. Jesus,” Seungcheol, center back, says. He’s a good guy, veteran player. A real pacifist with more sense than anyone Mingyu has ever met. “We’re all trying our best out there, okay?”

“I wonder about that,” Wonwoo mutters under his breath.

Before Mingyu can respond to that, Seungcheol says, “Take a walk, Mingyu.” 

“Me?” Mingyu asks, incredulous. “Why do I—”

Seungcheol fixes him with a deeply unimpressed look that has him falling into a grudging silence. Mingyu turns on his heel and leaves.

He finds himself in the storage room. It’s dark. He fumbles his way to the back. There’s a stack of mats in the corner and he punches them a few times to loosen the frustration coiling inside him. He takes a deep breath, holding it for three seconds before exhaling slowly. He’s been doing a lot of yoga and breathing exercises lately, trying to get all zen and shit. He’s not sure it’s working.

Mingyu scrubs a hand over his face and sighs heavily. He can’t help but feel like this game went to shit because of him. He says a lot of things to the defenders when they’re slipping, and he means every word. But when it comes down to it, he’s the one who either saves the ball or lets the other team score.

The door swings open then, letting in a flood of light. It’s Wonwoo.

“Jesus, what the fuck do you want?” Mingyu asks.

Wonwoo is smiling at him, which is never a good sign. “Seungcheol told me to apologise to you. Said it wasn’t good for us to go into the second half angry and resenting each other.”

Mingyu narrows his eyes. “So? Are you going to?”

“Take a guess.” Wonwoo comes closer. Mingyu squares his shoulders, ready for a fight. “I’m here to tell you to open your fucking eyes next half, you talentless piece of shit.”

“You need to sit the fuck down,” Mingyu snarls at him. He’s shaking with anger and adrenaline, blood pumping so hard it’s like he’s still out there lunging for the ball. He’s had it with this kid—never mind that Wonwoo is older than him. He doesn’t act like he’s older, spoiled brat that he is. “Get it out of your head that you’re better than the rest of us. Because you’re not.”

“I don’t—”

“Shut the fuck up. Everyone hears you complaining on the phone about how your teammates can’t play worth a damn. You mouth off on us and walk around like you own the entire team. This might come as a surprise to you, but you don’t.” Mingyu steps in close to Wonwoo, crowding him in against the wall. Their chests nearly touch and he can feel the heat radiating off Wonwoo. Wonwoo has to tip his chin up to look him in the eye, and it satisfies every petty inch of Mingyu.

Mingyu continues, “You’re just a two-bit rookie who doesn’t know center back from striker. You’re never where you need to be. You don’t pass when you need to pass. You think you can win on your own, and when we lose, it’s everyone else’s fault except yours. The only reason you’re here is because your daddy has connections.” And because you have a pretty face that the sponsors can’t get enough of, Mingyu doesn’t say. Wonwoo’s got the classic K-idol look, with his sharp cheekbones and defined jawline. Too bad he’s an asshole. You can’t win it all, Mingyu supposes.

Wonwoo is glaring up at Mingyu, breathing hard. The colour runs high on his cheeks and his jaw muscle jumps. He’s wound up so tight he looks two seconds away from either punching Mingyu in the face or coming in his pants. “Fuck you, Mingyu, you’re one to talk. You think everything is a challenge to your authority. You act like you’re the poster boy for good behaviour, but you’re the one who’s getting into fights out there, you hypocritical piece of shit,” he grits out. His mouth works, and then he spits a fat globule of saliva at Mingyu.

Mingyu recoils. Drags his forearm across his face. Growling, he grabs the front of Wonwoo’s shirt and slams him against the wall, pressing him bodily against it. They’re nose-to-nose and Wonwoo is going cross-eyed from trying to keep Mingyu in his sights. Jesus, Mingyu wants to bust him up. Make such a mess of his face that he cries every time he walks past a mirror. 

Instead, Mingyu ends up glowering at him. He has no idea what it is about Wonwoo that riles him up. Every rookie wants to prove themselves, show that they can’t be walked all over by doling out as many caustic insults as they receive. Everyone’s frustrated and ready to lash out at the slightest provocation after a string of losses, and Mingyu gets that. But for some reason, Wonwoo manages to tick him right the fuck off.

Mingyu’s half hard in his briefs. It’s not unusual. All that adrenaline and pent-up aggression have to go somewhere. He just hates the fact that it’s Wonwoo that his body decides to react to. Mingyu grinds his teeth. His fist tightens on Wonwoo’s collar. Jesus, he’s not entirely sure if he’s going to deck Wonwoo or makeout with him at this point.

They’re pressed together from shins to chest, so it’s no surprise that Wonwoo notices that he’s hard. Wonwoo’s lips curl up into an infuriating smirk. “Don’t tell me this is how you usually react to our fights, Mingyu,” he says. As though he’s not fattening up in his shorts. Mingyu can feel it. “Is this what it’s been about all this time? You trying to get my atten—”

Mingyu smashes their mouths together. Wonwoo makes a muffled noise of surprise. Mingyu’s heart is beating somewhere up in his throat. He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing, but he knows he’s gotten Wonwoo to shut up for once, and that’s no small success. Wonwoo struggles against him, puts hands on his chest and tries to push him off. Mingyu grabs his wrists and pins them to his side. 

“I fucking hate you,” Wonwoo snarls against the press of their mouths.

And then he starts to kiss Mingyu back. 

This has been a long time coming, ever since that drunken night that ended with them on the bar floor, dry-humping each other under the guise of wrestling. Wonwoo’s been an itch in his system for months now.

There’s nothing gentle about the kiss. They kiss like they’re fighting, all teeth and not enough tongue. Mingyu wedges a knee in between Wonwoo’s thighs and presses up, causing him to gasp out a moan. Wonwoo rocks his hips down in search of friction, a guttural groan vibrating in his throat.

Mingyu pulls away, breathing hard. He puts his back to the nearby wall to give him something to lean against. “Get on your knees,” he says.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Do you want this dick or not?” Mingyu asks. “I don’t care either way.”

He thinks Wonwoo will back out. It’s for the best if he does. They’re in public; they’re in the middle of a game; they hate each other’s guts; he’s pretty sure Wonwoo has a girl, or at least, someone he fucks, on and off. One of those reasons alone would have made this a colossally bad idea. 

Instead, Wonwoo clamps his mouth shut and drops to his knees. Mingyu’s stomach lurches as though he is looking down from a great height. His mouth goes dry and he swallows with a loud and painful roll of his throat. No fucking way. Now here’s a sight he never thought he’d see: Wonwoo glaring up at him, somehow managing to look both pissed off and turned on at the same time.

Mingyu palms himself through his shorts. Wonwoo’s eyes immediately zero in on the movement. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and whatever shred of hesitancy Mingyu felt burns up. 

He pushes his shorts down, just enough to get his cock out and to let his balls hang free. He wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and gives it a rough, experimental stroke. A pearl of precum has blurted out from the slit. He smears a thumb over it, the breath shuddering out of him.

Wonwoo is riveted, eyes tracking the way Mingyu’s hand works over his shaft. His own cock is tenting in his shorts. Mingyu absolutely lets it get to his head, his lizard brain preening. A reaction like that, just from a little bit of kissing, just from seeing Mingyu’s dick. In Wonwoo’s defense, it is a pretty good dick, if Mingyu says so himself.  

Mingyu jerks himself off. Once, twice. “You want this?” 

That seems to snap Wonwoo out of his cock-induced daze. “I’m not going to beg,” he says, but already, he’s leaning forward, mouth falling open in request.

It’s downright nasty, is what it is. Mingyu is sweaty and stinks of Eau de Hardwork. The fact that it’s Wonwoo of all people makes it all the hotter. His nostrils flare as he inhales the musk of Mingyu’s cock. His lashes flutter. 

Mingyu feeds his cock to Wonwoo. Gets his hand slapped aside. Wonwoo takes over, curling his fingers around the base of it, suckling at the head a bit to get it wet.

Mingyu inhales sharply when Wonwoo licks a flat stripe along the underside of his cock where a vein throbs. Wonwoo tortures him with those kitten licks, hotly mouthing his way up to close his lips around the head of Mingyu’s cock.

Mingyu doesn’t want to show Wonwoo how affected he is by all of this, but he can’t help the low groan that leaves him when Wonwoo swirls a tongue around the sensitive crown. As though aware of Mingyu’s tenuous control, Wonwoo’s eyes crinkle with amusement. He pops off Mingyu’s cock. His mouth works. But this time, instead of spitting in Mingyu’s face, he dribbles a line of saliva down his length.

“Suck a lot of cock, do you?” Mingyu says. His voice is embarrassingly rough. He threads his fingers into Wonwoo’s hair and tugs in an attempt to get that mouth on his erection again.

Wonwoo’s response is to open wide and swallow him down, hand covering what his mouth can’t.

“Oh fuck,” Mingyu moans, head falling back against the wall with a thud. Unwilling to miss even a second of this once-in-a-lifetime moment, he looks between his legs from under half-lidded eyes. Seeing Wonwoo’s dark head bobbing up and down, hand moving in tandem with his mouth… The sight is as gratifying as the suction on his cock, if not more so.

Mingyu rocks his hips back and forth. This whole thing is so surreal that he can’t help but half-laugh, half-moan. “If I knew all it took you to shut up was a cock in your mouth, I would have done this a long time ago.”

Wonwoo’s teeth flash and Mingyu yanks him off with a hiss, fingers tightening into the short strands of Wonwoo’s hair. Wonwoo’s breathing hard, lips glistening with spit.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” Mingyu says, hand tightening and giving Wonwoo’s head a little shake to punctuate his words, “or I’m gonna throw this door open and show everyone what a good little cocksucker you are.”

Wonwoo’s lips curl. “The door is five meters away, dumbshit. I’d like to see you try.”

A flare of anger spears through Mingyu—smug fucking bastard—and he doesn’t even think when he slaps Wonwoo across the face. It’s not a hard slap, but hard enough to let Wonwoo know that he means business. Except that fucker—he moans. The sound is so faint that it might be mistaken for a shocked noise, and it’s quickly covered up by Wonwoo who mockingly drawls, “Yes. I understand, Sir.”

Satisfied, he lets Wonwoo back on his cock. This time, Wonwoo doesn’t waste time teasing and swallows him down.

For a brief moment, Mingyu is still somewhat in shock. His own action took him by surprise. He doesn’t usually slap the people who blow him; he’s usually grateful. But Wonwoo brings out the worst in him. And then there’s the fact that Wonwoo moaned quietly—Mingyu knows what he heard—at the palm strike across his cheek.

Those thoughts are promptly sucked out of his dick. Mingyu doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone who looks so haughty while sucking cock. Sometimes, Wonwoo will pull off to circle his tongue around the head, the corners of his lips ticking up impishly. He’s full aware of the effect he has on Mingyu. Then he takes Mingyu almost all the way down to the hilt. The noises he makes are filthy and carnivorous. Hungry.

Goddamn, he likes this, Mingyu thinks wondrously. 

Wonwoo’s eager. Squirming on his haunches. His free hand has found his way between his legs to knead himself. He’s getting distracted, the rhythm he built up faltering.

Mingyu shoves Wonwoo further down onto his length. Feels the tip of his cock hit the back of Wonwoo’s throat.

Wonwoo chokes and pulls off, inhaling on a gasp and coughing. He drags a forearm across his mouth, wiping, and glares up with watery eyes. The force of his glare is diminished by the redness of his cheeks. It’s a look that sends a jolt of arousal straight to Mingyu’s cock.

“Get back here,” Mingyu says. “And don’t get distracted by your own dick this time.”

Mingyu puts both hands on Wonwoo’s head and begins to fuck the tight circle of Wonwoo’s mouth. Wonwoo is ready for it this time. It doesn’t take long before Mingyu transitions from slow and shallow rolls of his hips to full-on thrusting into Wonwoo’s mouth. Mingyu curses, gut spasming with his rising pleasure. 

Wonwoo’s throat works around the intrusion. His lips are stretched wide, chin coated with saliva. His eyes are wet, lashes clumped together. It’s all so obscene, so incredibly fucking hot. 

Mingyu’s balls draw in tight and his breathing goes ragged. He fucks Wonwoo’s mouth a little faster, grits out, “Oh, fuck—” That’s all the warning Wonwoo gets before Mingyu is shooting his load. Mingyu groans loudly, hips jerking involuntarily. He keeps Wonwoo held down, the sensation of Wonwoo’s throat contracting around him prolonging his orgasm. Mingyu wants to laugh. Holy shit. “Yeah, that’s it,” he breathes. “Swallow every last drop.” 

Wonwoo makes a valiant attempt at doing so, but there’s so much cum that it trickles out the corner of his mouth.

By the time Mingyu is done, they’re both breathing hard. Well, it’s Mingyu’s who’s breathing hard; Wonwoo is coughing and gasping for breath. 

Mingyu’s not done here yet. “Clean it up,” he says. Wonders how far Wonwoo will allow himself to be pushed before he snaps.

Wonwoo is quiet when he uses the head of Mingyu’s cock to scoop up the errant drops of cum and push it back into his mouth. Then, he laps up the remainder of Mingyu’s release.

Mingyu shivers at the rasp of tongue on his softening cock. Once he’s clean, he tucks himself back into his briefs.

“What about me?” Wonwoo asks.

Wonwoo, rich and spoiled boy that he is, has probably been given everything he has ever asked for on a silver platter. He says “Jump” and people say “How high?” It wouldn’t hurt for him to work for the things he wants; that would be a first in his life.

And maybe, Mingyu is also thinking about how hard Wonwoo gets when he’s pushed around. How that light slap had him moaning softly.

With that in mind, Mingyu pushes his cleats between Wonwoo’s legs. The top of his shoe bumps his erection. “Go on,” Mingyu says. It’s no big deal, he tells himself even as his heart is pounding violently against his ribs, if Wonwoo decides that he’s had enough of Mingyu’s bullshit and stalks off. Mingyu has already gotten what he wanted.

“What?”

“You have thirty seconds to get yourself off. Go,” Mingyu says, prodding his toe against him.

Wonwoo’s eyes round and he flushes a violent shade of red. He opens his mouth as if to protest. But then he doesn’t. Just clamps his lips together and begins to move his hips. It’s possibly the sexiest thing Mingyu has ever seen. Blood rushes to his head, swelling and pounding and pulsing in his skull. A groan escapes Mingyu, as though he is the one getting much-needed friction on his cock.

“Look at you,” Mingyu whispers. “Rutting against my foot like a bitch in heat.”

Wonwoo honest-to-god whimpers. There’s no other way to describe the absolutely tiny, pleasure-filled sound that leaves him, so incongruous with the person Mingyu has always known him to be. He drives his hips down with increased desperation, moaning shakily. He clutches around the bend of Mingyu’s knee, forehead knocking against Mingyu’s thigh.

If Mingyu hadn’t spent just seconds earlier, he would have gotten hard again. Instead, he just watches Wonwoo bump and grind on him with a dry mouth.

Someone knocks on the door, three sharp raps. “Game’s about to start. You two kiss and make up yet?” It’s Seungcheol.

Mingyu yanks his foot away. 

Wonwoo sobs out with loss. Tugs on his ankle. “No, I haven’t—”

“Too late. Your time’s up.” 

He groans, a truly miserable sound. “I hate you,” he says, glaring up balefully. 

“If you’d quit thinking with your dick for two seconds, you’d remember that we’re in a middle of a game,” Mingyu says.

Wonwoo stands up on coltish legs. 

It actually hurts Mingyu’s heart a little to leave him like this. He leans in to whisper into Wonwoo’s ear, “So this is what’s going to happen. We’re gonna go out there and we’re gonna do our jobs. And if we don’t make a fool of ourselves out there, then I’ll take you back to my room and fuck you so hard you’ll be limping through practice for the next week. Sound good?”

After a moment, Wonwoo relents and says through gritted teeth, “You better. Or I’m going to flip you over and fuck you myself.”

Mingyu snorts. Yeah, that’s the Wonwoo he’s familiar with.

Wonwoo roughly adjusts his crotch. “Jesus, how the hell am I supposed to play like this?”

“If you don’t get your head in the game, we’re going to end up becoming the MLS equivalent of Brazil in the 2014 World Cup.”

Wonwoo blanches.

Miraculously, they  end up tying the game at 4-4. It’s a better outcome than anyone could have expected. Wonwoo flashes a wicked smile, looking ridiculously proud of himself. And he should be; a single ball didn’t get past him in the second half.

Mingyu finds himself smiling back.

[retirementhomecollab]

☾ the witching hour

☾ decision: living room

☾ warnings: f!reader, supernatural themes (kind of), slight mockery of said supernatural themes.

☾ word count: 1.7k

You decide to head to the living room.

You think there’s no better place to get into the swing of the party. Making your way to the centre of the room, you think you see a few people you know, including a certain spiky-haired boy, leaning over a board game.

“This is bullshit,” you hear him grumble as you spot a small group of guys from last semester’s general biology lab (affectionately referred to as the biology for idiots course).

“It’s not bullshit,” Hanamaki argues as he leans forward and places his hands on something in the middle of the board. “Now put your fingers on the planchette, Hajime, I’m trying to get myself a ghost girlfriend tonight.”

Beside him, Matsukawa snickers. “Dude, I don’t even think you’d be able to land the chick from The Ring. Maybe we should just ask the spirits about when you’ll get a job.”

Kneeling across the board, Oikawa lets out a whistle. “Low blow, Mattsun.”

You skirt around the couch to get a closer view when the brunet spots you from the corner of his eye.

“Oh!” he calls out, waving you over with a sudden grin across his face. “Look who’s here!” he calls out to seemingly everyone but you. You watch the same smile form on Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s faces as they spot you too and you suddenly feel very reluctant about joining them.

“Perfect timing,” Oikawa purrs as he motions for you to sit between him and Iwaizumi. “We’d love for you to join.”

You draw closer, finally able to spot the game at your feet. An array of letters and numbers are printed on the board with ‘Yes’ and ‘No’ printed on the top corners. On the very bottom, beneath Matsukawa’s wrists is the word ‘Goodbye’.

“Oh no,” you breathes, the realization hitting you all at once.

“Oh yes,” Oikawa says.

-

You’re slotted right next to Iwaizumi now, shoulders touching as you listen to Oikawa’s lighthearted explanation of how to “properly” use the board. To your relief, it doesn’t look like as genuine as you would imagine it to be; the board itself is shiny and cardboard and the planchette is heavy plastic.

You’re not sure if the spirits care about this though, you never thought you’d be in the position to wonder.

“You don’t have to go along with this,” Iwaizumi speaks up from beside you. You glance at him. He’s wearing a pair of cargos with a loosely-buttoned dress shirt and an unzipped vest. His sleeves are pushed up to his elbows and from the way he’s leaning over, you can see the broad expanse of his chest from beneath his collar. Oh god. You look away.

“Aren’t you wondering what he is?” Hanamaki pipes up, cognizant of your not-so subtle once-over of his best friend. He opens his mouth to speak again but Iwaizumi interrupts.

“I’m an archaeologist,” he says quickly.

“A slutty archaeologist,” Matsukawa amends and you almost choke on your own spit.

“How am I a slutty—?”

“Your clothes are half off,” Hanamaki argues, cutting him off as Oikawa continues on with something about saying goodbye to the spirits.

“It’s hot in here! The place is packed,” he reasons but you can see the growing flush in his face. Knowing them, it’s certainly not the first time they’ve had this discussion tonight but you can’t help but feel a little flustered as well.

“Okay!” Oikawa claps his hands together. “Everyone in?”

You watch as Hanamaki and Matsukawa place two fingers on the planchette with Oikawa following suit. You hesitate and Iwaizumi does as well.

“Does this even work with all this noise?” you wonder uneasily. In every shitty horror movie you’d seen with an ouija board, the rooms had been candlelit and silent, with the board being the centre of attention. Your situation couldn’t have been more of the opposite.

“Dunno,” Matsukawa admits.

“Figured we’d try for the shits anyway,” Hanamaki adds.

“I’ll just watch,” you say, placing your hands in your lap as you watch them circle around the board.

“Me too,” Iwaizumi nods and you turn to give him a small smile.

Oikawa sticks out his bottom lip for a second before shrugging. “Fine by me.”

Despite the bustle around you, you watch with rapt interest as they take turns asking innocuous questions. It begins with simple yes or no inquiries; whether or not Hanamaki would fail economics this semester (yes) or whether Oikawa would get a girlfriend by Valentine’s Day (no).

“Hmm,” he pouts, clearly disappointed with the answer. “Will Iwa-chan get a girlfriend by Valentine’s Day?” he asks the board in a saccharine tone.

You watch as the planchette migrates across the board to land on the ‘yes’.

“Oh?” Matsukawa smirks.

“Oho,” Hanamaki muses.

“What?” Iwaizumi frowns. “Leave me out of this, Shittykawa.”

Ignoring him, Oikawa continues on. “Is the lucky girl someone we all know?”

The planchette doesn’t move off of the ‘yes’.

“Is she here? At this party right now?”

A second passes and you hold your breath. It still doesn’t move.

You glance at Iwaizumi but he’s glaring at Oikawa with murderous intent. The brunet conveniently looks away.

“Can you spell out the name of his dear future girlfriend?” he asks the board in a faux-hushed tone. Your eyes shift from the planchette to Iwaizumi’s hands, his knuckles white as he curls them into fists.

The triangle moves down the board to land on a letter.

And then another.

It takes you all of five seconds to realize what’s happening now; it’s spelling out your name.

Heat rises up your neck and you train your eyes on the wooden flooring in front of you, unable to look at the board anymore.

Supernatural or not, you can’t help but feel the warm bloom of embarrassment in your cheeks. Sure, Iwaizumi is attractive, and maybe it was incredibly difficult to work with him as your lab partner last term because you’d get caught up with appreciating the view, but you’d forced yourself to not think too deeply about it. Especially after you’d awkwardly parted ways at the end of the semester.

Sure, you see him around campus frequently, but it just isn’t the same as when you’d stay up together, slaving over ten page lab reports and commiserating over lost marks.

“This is stupid,” he mumbles before pushing himself off the floor. You watch as he heads towards the entrance of the apartment without even looking back. Oddly, you feel the urge to follow him out.

“We’ll say goodbye to the spirits for you!” Oikawa calls out cheerfully before turning to you.

“Could you do me a favour?” he asks, tilting his head. “Could you just make sure he doesn’t get lost?”

You could argue that this apartment was right next to campus and that the likelihood of Iwaizumi getting lost on the grounds of a place he frequented everyday was close to nil. But you already have half a mind to go, so you nod and stand up to follow him, brushing off your skirt as you approach the door.

The crowds of people grow thinner and thinner as you make your way back down the hallway and down the stairs, leaving the pounding bass of the music behind as you step into the chill of the night.

You shiver as you glance around the building’s exterior, looking for any sign of your former lab partner. The wind nips at your bare skin and you think you see a retreating figure on your right but before you can chase after it, you hear a familiar voice at your back.

“What are you doing here?” Iwaizumi questions and you turn to face him. The streetlamp casts harsh shadows across as his face as he looks down at you apprehensively.

“I was looking for you,” you reply simply. “Oikawa, he—”

“Man,” he groans, squeezing his eyes shut. “I can’t believe he fucking told you to—”

“I was also worried,” you interject, biting the inside of your cheek. “I, uh. I don’t know if the board works like that but it didn’t really seem like— it didn’t really seem like it was anything supernatural that was— y’know.” You gesture noncommittally with your hands.

“Yeah,” he says in agreement. “Yeah, I think they were just fucking with me. Sorry you got caught up in that. They can get out of line sometimes.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine,” you insist, eyes flashing to his. “I just don’t know why they’d use my name,” you laugh, cringing when it sounds a bit hollow.

Iwaizumi sighs.

“To be honest,” he begins. “Last semester, I…I kind of had a thing for you. Y’know, probably because we went on all those study dates and spent all those nights staying up together.”

You blink.

“Oh?”

Was he really…? Did he really…?

He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I… I don’t know. It’s stupid. You probably don’t want to hear about this, anyway.”

“No,” you shake your head, a sort of giddiness settling in your chest. The wind bites at your cheeks but you can barely feel its chill anymore.

“I—I was so nervous I couldn’t even look at you sometimes!” you blurt out with a giggle as you come to terms with the absurdity of the situation. “You were just so…”

““So…”?“ he questions.

“So…attractive,” you admit abashedly. “It was so ridiculous, I couldn’t even make eye contact with you,” you gripe, recalling the dozens of awkward moments in which you felt like you were just going to keel over from being in his presence.

“You think I’m attractive?” he asks, dumbfounded, and you nod while staring at the space three inches above his shoulder.

“Why didn’t you—? Why didn’t we—?”

“I didn’t know,” you exclaim.

“I didn’t know, either,” he breathes, a small laugh bubbling from his throat.

“But now we do,” you offer, daring to meet his eye. The cold of the night does nothing to quell the spark you feel when his gaze lands on yours.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Now we do.”

The flame inside you burns even brighter.

“Let’s go back inside,” he suggests, beckoning towards the entrance of the building.

“I think we have a lot to talk about.”

Pick a different room: > Go to the closed bedroom. > Go to the open bedroom. > Go to the balcony. > Go to the kitchen. > Go to the hallway. > Go to the bathroom.

[kathyprior4200]

Haven Hotel characters

 Heaven’s Princess Coercia Egnam glanced down at her long list of meeting attendants and characters that she was about to address: (her handwritten notes included)

 Princess Coerciona (2P Charlie) *Most important*

Phalla (2P Vaggie) *Hopeless romantic butterfly*

Devil Grit (2P Angel Dust) *Serious stiff spider*

Stalaro the Techno Angel (2P Alastor the Radio Demon) *Sob story sissy*

Klutzy (2P Niffty) *Lazy maid*

Core (2P Husk) *Hyper fool*

Cherubs Pub and Chub (2P Razzle and Dazzle) *My loyal guards*

Lucius (2P Lucifer) *Dad*

Lilian (2P Lilith) *Mom*

Sivart (2P Travis) *Some guy*

Sir Anguis (2P Sir Pentious) *Stuttering scaredy-snake toy maker*

Berri Blossom (2P Cherri Bomb) *Modest mundane dame*

Catie Carejoy (2P Katie Killjoy) *Soft bitch*

Ron Wrench (2P Tom Trench) *WW1 news guy*

Baker the puffer fish (2P Baxter the anglerfish) *Mad scientist fishy fish*

Jazzy (2P Mimzy) *Chubby singer lady*

Joygrand the Heaven-cat (2P Crymini the deviant hellhound) *Who the fuck are you?*

Raa the Koala angel (2P Roo the kangaroo trash Aussie demon) *Who the fuck are you?*

Iris (2P Rosie) *Day of the Dead Barbie*

Valentine (2P Valentino) *Blueberry pimp wimp*

Nil (2P Vox) *TV guy*

Ashen (2P Velvet) *Harley Doll angel*

Nestlings (2P Egg Bois) *Meh*

Nathan (2P Seviathan) *Old friend*

Elsa (2P Helsa) *Meh*

Beth (2P Bethasa) *Meh*

Fred (2P Fredrick) *Meh*

Holly (2p Molly) *Devil Grit’s spider sister*

Ragno (2P Arackniss) *Devil Grit’s spider brother*

Henry (2P Henroin) *Devil Grit’s father*

Alliv the blue tough tabby cat (2P Villa pink girly poodle) *Don’t even fucking know*

Thin Tenders (2P Fat Nuggets) *Potential snack*

Archangels (2P Archdemons)

Anti-Exorcists: White demon beings who convert angels into demons each year. Great source of entertainment.

 E.L.F. (2P I.M.P.) not to be confused with C.H.E.R.U.B. the sheep love spreaders and revivers

D.E.V.I.L. (2P C.H.E.R.U.B.) murderers, hate-spreading black rams

Docile (2P Blitzo) *Some childish leader*

Tirred (2P Moxxie) *Serious one*

Timmid (2P Millie) *Wallflower*

Sunna (2P Loona) *High pussy*

Mia and Tia (2P Tilla and Barbie Wire) *Circus twins?*

Samael *Punishing BDSM angel*

Menadel (2P Stolas) *Swan prince, Quartet’s father*

Flora (2P Stella) *Quartet’s mother*

Quartet (2P Octavia) * Swan princess, bubbly teen*

Mayberry/Juneberry (2P Mrs. Mayberry) (Former Human)

Mary (2P Martha) (Former Human)

Ralph (2P Ralphie) (Former Human)

Ollie (2P Eddie) *Brat kid*

Bio Wizz (2P Robo Fizz) *Circus conspiracy?*

Kiva (2P Verosika Mayday) *Zealot*

Woo-Hoo Land Mascot (2P Loo-Loo Land Mascot) *What a creep*

 (More to be added)

(2P Zoophobia characters)

More characters to be added

 “Alright my subjects, tell me something,” Coceria began as she filed her sharp claws with a knife in a tall leather chair framed by black wrought iron. Her black spiky crown was on her head as usual. An angelic spear rested by the throne. Below her was a large crowd seated in comfortable chairs, many of them in shades of blue and green. “How the flying fuck am I supposed to remember all your names?! I bet half of you guys are insignificant background characters. And the majority of you haven’t even been featured in the show yet!”

 “You mean the Hazbin Hotel show? About our counterparts?” asked Stalaro, holding up a white rose for Coercia. Soft classical music played from his blue microphone staff. The pansexual blue man was occasionally stealing glances at Devil Grit’s fluff.

 “That’s irrelevant right now, you sad sack of stag shit!” Coercia yelled. Stalaro’s rose wilted in his hands and the music scratched to a stop. Tears were forming in his large blue eyes and his fluffy ear tuffs were drooping. “B-but I’m talking about my show: The Hazbin Ho…”

 “Haven Hotel,” Phalla corrected.

 “Right, Haven Hotel! And there’s also that spinoff show Helluva Boss.”

 “Heavenly Boss,” Docile corrected her. The elf sat with his colleagues next to a flyer which read, “Efficient Lifesaving Fellows: We revive and keep mortals alive! Sign up today, 33% off.”

 “Whatever,”Coercia brushed them aside. “Anyway, normally I wouldn’t care much about you guys, but now that I have formed the Haven Hotel, Phalla figured it should be a good time for us to introduce ourselves. Or more precisely, me to talk to you all.”

 “A practical first start,” Devil Grit mentioned with a nod. He was a dark gray faced spider with small green dots below his eyes. His suit was black with green stripes, along with a green bow tie. “Just make sure that everyone stays at least six feet away from me. Social distancing is a safe standard, and necessary precaution.”  

 “I do love making new friends!” Phalla smiled, fluffing her long black hair with teal ends. A glowing green X was over her right eye and a teal bow was perched don her head. “Don’t you, Klutzy?”

 The small blue cyclops angel narrowed her large eye. “Friends. Oh joy.”

 “I must say, Coerce dear,” said Lucius. “I don’t really approve of your hotel and your idea. If the council finds out about your attempt to promote rule-breaking activities…”

 “Banishment to Hell? Or to my room?” Coercia asked, hands on her hips. “Not the end of the world. And my name is Princess Coerciona. I prefer my full title.”

 Core, the friendly white cat, rolled his eyes. He shuffled a few cards in his furry paws. “She’s no fun.”

 “I heard that, cat!” she called, making him flinch back a bit.

 “We raised you better than this,” Lilian added.

 “Oh really?” The black haired princess stood up and turned toward her mother. “You’d rather I be some bubbly musical loving princess who wants to spread “joy and redemption” far across the land? Ha! No. A true ruler commands fear and respect in their subjects. I’m sure Hell’s king Lucifer would agree.”

 Pub and Chub, the naked flying babies grinned in agreement while fine tuning black electric guitars in the background.

 “We do not mention that name,” Lucius began but Coercia was ignoring them again.

 “Lucifer may be a traitor to Him but at least he had guts. If His teachings weren’t so flawed, I’d still be promoting them wholeheartedly. As for my position…maybe another princess may someday take my place, but that’s not gonna happen if I manage to be princess of both realms. But now I’m here, in this lovely, shiny…fake excuse of a paradise with wackos like you. Still, someone’s gotta keep you in line.”

 Phalla giggled while Core pat a sobbing Stalaro on his blue back. He wiped his face as his monocle glinted in the sunlight under his left eye.

 “Your uncle Metatron wouldn’t approve of your attitude,” Lucius added.

 “He wouldn’t even notice, considering he’s too engrossed in his record-keeping,” countered Coercia.

 Nearby on another part of the stage, the ocean-like angels Elsa and Nathan whispered to each other.

 “I don’t understand it,” Nathan said. “Here I was, promoting goodness for everyone, but Coercia laughed at my ideas and pushed me around. And we even went to Heaven High school prom together.”

 “Lucius wanted our two families united, so we could have a higher standing,” Elsa added. “You dating the princess would’ve helped. But sadly she broke up with you and now here we are, envious.”

 “Don’t remind me,” Nathan sighed. “It’s not like I was the one abusing her and mocking her ideas. At least she didn’t run off with a sinner girlfriend to further tarnish her family reputation. Ugh…restraining societal standards affect us even here.”

 “Or maybe…she’s not much of a romantic person to begin with,” Elsa suggested.

 “Not all aromantic and asexual people are cold-hearted,” Nathan said. “She’s just one bad apple.”

 Coercia seethed at them, briefly letting out her black feathery wings and white spiked halo over her head. She spoke in a high-pitched angelic language before retreating back to her regular form.

     “I hate it when she swears,” Elsa muttered.

  Coercia turned to the crowd. “Alright, let’s begin.”

[inkwardspots]

For Day 11 of @adrinetteapril -- Video Games

Here on AO3

"Hope you're ready to lose, Agreste." Adrien gulped over the microphone as he readied his controller, "You should watch out, Marinette. Never know when I might come and steal your crown." 

At this, Marinette scoffed, adjusting her head set as she leaned back in her chair, ready to beat her opponent to the ground, "Be prepared to suffer failure Adrien, because I don't hold back!" 

The countdown beginning, Marinette in her room and Adrien in his, both tense for the battle, they began. Their Mecha bots clashed against each other as Marinette's resounding "Double Power Kick Combo!" or "Lady Bombs!" penetrated the head sets, causing Adrien to wince and grunt at how badly he was losing. 

Securing her already imminent victory, Marinette finished off with a "Roundhouse Kicker Punch!" Jumping in the air, she let out a shrill hoot, marvelling at the afternoon heat as the twitter of birds sounded. 

Taking a swig of her water bottle, and once done with collecting her victory look, she jotted down a line in her notebook, "15 to Nil, Adrien. I told you you couldn't beat me!"

The boy in question chuckled, letting a hand pass through his hair as the afternoon sun travelled over his sun tan skin, "You're still amazing as ever, Marinette."

"O-oh? Why's that?" The ravenette stuttered, taking a hasty drink from her water bottle. 

"Well," the golden-haired boy began, "You're always so brave and smart and talented! God you're talented! I'm so lucky to have you as a friend," -- I want more than a friend. -- "and even now, you're still taking the time to game with me. When there could be hundreds of other things you could be doing that didn't involve making my sorry ass feel better." The pent up frustration of being locked away from the outside world seeped through, his thoughts running free as the weight of what he had just said was realised.

"Don't invalidate your feelings like that, Adrien. I love being able to play video games with you -- and everyone else! -- it's been such a long time since I was just able to… relax. I understand where you're coming from, but, as long as we've got each other, we'll be fine, right?" Marinette answered back, her eyes closed as the gentle drip-drop of rain could be heard from her balcony.

Adrien stilled, noticing the rain that slid down his windows. The very rain that Marinette could probably see. The very rain that surrounded them when they first became friends. 

"Marinette?" He called our, opening his window and letting the rain drops hit his face and caress his fingers.

"Yes?" She answered back, making her way towards her balcony door, opening it ever so slowly as the door creaked and the rain that was witness to the realisation of her first love gently caressed her face.

"...I think--" he hesitated, the wind whipping at his golden locks. 

"I think I might love you, Marinette." The moment that he uttered those words, lightning flashed as both teens let out a quick breath. 

Heart-thumping, Marinette spoke the words she had longed to for the last 4 years, "I've loved you, Adrien, for the longest time possible. It's up to you if you accept it." 

Silence prevailed for a moment before Adrien answered, "I do. I do accept your love, because even now, you're still as amazing as ever." 

Nothing more was said as unspoken feelings travelled through the rain, battering the recipients with words that neither could express.

[awaylaughing]

Pippa and Hamin for the ship meme!

let’s GOOOOO. Under a read more because I can talk about Ideas For Fucking Ever. The meme in question and if you read this and think “golly gee, I’d love to give you an opprotunity to chat more about othere people” I have a shiny new character page you could reference here.

who’s the werewolf and who’s the hunter

This one I had to think about. Hamin probably makes a better werewolf, but Pippa makes a UNIQUELY terrible hunter so, pivoting ever so slightly maybe she’s more like a behind the scenes information broker type (Pippa, Collector and Keeper of Secrets is incredibly canon after all). She’d obviously have to start off allied with the hunters, to keep the tension with Hamin real and true. Hamin’s pack doesn’t have the WORST reputation possible, but they’re definitely not above suspicion. They retain their passion for ocean voyages, which strikes other people as odd because prejudice.

That said, you know who ALSO makes a great werewolf? Pippa’s mother and “aunt”, Roshan and Jessamine, so Pippa as part of a bamf all lady’s wolf pack who get tangled up with hunter shenanigans is also an excellent plot. Not least because Pippa would be a very pretty wolf, I dare say (maybe they’d actually be were-jackels, a la the Golden Jackel? A Consideration, given where I HC a modern AU Pippa would be from).

In this case I’d say the lady’s pack almost never maul people, except maybe domestic abusers and rapists, but who can blame them? So another pack moves in (it’s prob Jarrude’s lbr) and causes problems and Very Serious Hunter Hamin (ha) has to wade through the complicated world of lycanthrope politics to find The Truth. And of course falls in love with the nicest werewolf this side of whatever major geographical feature of your choice.

who’s the mermaid and who’s the fisherman

Mermaid Pippa and “fisherman” Hamin, natch. Pippa’s not very ruthless canonically, but I can apply liberal use of Alternate Cultural POVs On Ethics and say Pippa only leaves her goaded people on rocks, she never drowns them! That’s very nice of her! And sometimes she pulls an Ariel and helps a bro out, which is probably related to how her and Hamin meet. Some options:

1. Pippa had previously saved Hamin’s life, so in turn, something happens and she gets caught, and he saves her life as repayment. Similar to Bog Standard Plot Below, she’s obviously too injured to return to sea so they’re forced to cohabitate. High jinks and romance ensue.

2. Bog standard mermaid washed ashore plot. Bathtub high jinks ensue. There’s a scene where someone catches Hamin carrying a bucket of raw fish into his house and he has to explain it away. Leala catches on in the first 20 mins. At some point, they’re forced to bring Pippa to dinner with Hamin’s dad and there is much nerves, only for Pippa to reveal she’s stranded many a gentlemen adventurer in her time and she picked up some epic etiquette knowledge along the way.

3. Hamin gets stranded somewhere and Pippa’s the only person around who can come visit. It starts with her bringing him fish. Requisite Second Act Breakup is when Pippa, conscience having formed in the last hour of run time, reveals a way off his small deserted island. Obviously, he sails off in a huff and they meet up again in the next 35 minutes, have the big damn kiss and idk how you turn this one into a true happy ending and not a sort of esoteric one but Hollywood and or an Indie Darling Director will manage.

who’s the witch and who’s the familiar

Witch Pippa, hands down the answer. She gets it from her grandmother (er, step-grandmother?). Does Hamin have an animal form? If so, does it align to Pippa Aesthetic and is he a snakey boi or, does he get to pick? What would Hamin pick? Seagull - the goose of the sea?

Other option is he’s always human and either case I’m betting Hamin’s not a traditional familiar. Rather, he needed to get out Faerie/Familiarland STAT and filched Pippa’s contract off a Traditional And Proper Familiar and got himself a ticket to human land away from whoever he pissed off.

High jinks ensue.

who’s the barista and who’s the coffee addict

I had to think about this one because I mean let’s be very real here - neither Pippa, Quintessential Nice But Still Privileged Rich Girl or Hamin “cause problems for the staff on purpose” are shoe ins for having worked for customer service. That said, Hamin’s more likely to piss off his dad and be forced to get a job and like, have a real person job in general. So, Hamin’s barista job is his in-world Summit equivelent and he planned to quit the moment he paid off whatever damages he’s definitely paying off.

Except, Pippa comes in and orders only moderately complicated coffee orders and this isn’t a place that does the name thing so Hamin knows Nothing except she’s friendly and pretty and omg this one is perfect to throw in the OT3 because clearly the only reason he doesn’t just immediately ask Pippa for her name and number and also the next 20 years of her life pls and thanks is her hot boyfriend.

(But it’s okay, Pippa has two hands and so does Zarad u_u)

Otherwise she’d have to be someone who just comes to drive through bc idk why he’d hold off on asking since this is HAMIN we’re talking about.

who’s the professor and who’s the TA

...either of these two in academia is an interesting prospect. Maybe he’s a kid who got into archeology because of Indiana Jones and, while there’s far fewer chase scenes and death traps, Hamin ended up with a PhD and a job and look, he’s as confused as you are about how this all happened. It’s alright though because the job does come with cute anthropology TAs who work in an allied and often cross referential field. Pippa’s less immediately enamoured with Hamin but warms up because he’s the only person who actually listens to her and doesn’t treat her like she’s a child just because she’s a short woman.

This one could be set in exciting locales for a bit of Indie Flavour but with more consent and less horrifying age gaps, and no breaking of international laws and if anyone gets squished by rocks it’s a horrifying rock slide scenario.

Alternatively, polisci professor Pippa is working alongside the marine biology department to work on smth enviro-politics and ocean protection. TA Hamin is Very Enthusiastic about helping her out. This one features a scene where people naturally assume Hamin’s the professor and he trolls the ever living shit out of them.

This one is set in conferences which is 10000% less sexy but also way more familiar.

Depends on the vibes u want. Either way, Lyon is there somewhere and he and Pippa are unlikely friends purely because 4′10″ Pippa and like, 6′5″ or whatever Lyon being friends is never not hilarious. He definitely disapproves of Hamin just in general but especially in a library setting.

who’s the knight and who’s the prince(ss)

This is legit a Knight’s Tale AU, except instead of Jousting, we’ll say Hamin ends up taking Princess Pippa across the country as a sort of personal security situations and, as usual high jinks ensue. IDK who makes the best Chaucer stand in as a pal to help Hamin in his quest but he definitely needs the help. Pippa catches on like, super fast anyway because her interpersonal insight is boss af but she just goes with it because it’s amusing and he’s doing a fine job.

Another candidate for the OT3 bc Chaucer!Zarad is perfect, but so is the plot being that Hamin and Zarad had a thing aaages ago, now Pippa’s being carted off to marry prince Zarad and oh hey this is also nearly a Sinbad AU but with the proper Poly Ending in place

There is no AU where Pippa’s a the knight to Hamin’s prince, I’m sad to say. Her martial skills are about nil.

who’s the teacher and who’s the single parent

HMMM. I think Early Childhood Specialist Hamin and Parent Pippa shake out best, mostly because at the end of the day I don’t think Pippa like...likes kids that much. She doesn’t dislike them but she’d never want a life devoted to spending all her time with them. Her own kids though, different story.

Evil instinct says dad is Clarmont, because I feel like Clarmont is really easy to kill off in incredibly tragic but heroic circumstances and Modern AU Pippa would totally be down for a Clarmont romance. Anyway, Pippa has an adorable little girl who thinks Mr. Hamin is the BEST teacher, he helped her dig up worms for her show and tell at recess mama!

Pippa and Hamin in this set up don’t actually meet for like, a solid three months so they both form skew-whiff images of the other and so they get a CLASSIC “oh no (s)he’s hot / THIS IS MR. HAMIN / THIS IS MS. X” moment. Adorable Little Girl is captain of this ship despite being like, 4 and Pippa and Hamin are just along for the ride.

High jinks ensue.

(alt bc I’m never not on my bullshit dad is Zarad, and not dead and they just never married bc Family Drama and OT3 babey)

who’s the writer and who’s the editor

Absolutely writer Hamin and editor Pippa. She inherited from someone who quit and she really shakes things up by like, having Expectations and shit and Hamin, who’s been not in a good place following a personal trauma, finds himself annoyed for all of two seconds before she shows up on his doorstep on the day after a due date because if he wants to play Pippa will Play. And oh no, she’s cute. Hamin is enraptured, Pippa just wants him to work at first. Romance blossoms lopsidedly but he charms her after some sort of deal is struck that includes her dragging him out of the house to buy food or just go for a walk or whatever.

Shenanigan ensue.

This one is pure fluff about the power of human connection, there is no second act drama they get to skip ahead AND collect their 20 dollars it’s great.

[notdirk]

A mini guide on Dirk’s mannerisms

A mini guide Part 2: Electric Boogaloo Wanted to do a second one, if you haven’t already you should totally check out my Jake guide. It’s pretty cool.

So here we are, where making this HAPEN. I obviously am not a Dirk Strider expert but I hope the shit I have to say clears things up, or helps you with roleplay/writing a little.

Dirk is a tough cookie to break down, he’s wordy in 2 main ways. Roseways: He’s wordy like Rose in the sense that he has a very extensive vocabulary. Daveways: He’s wordy like Dave via fruitful metaphors. Both of these combine to form being wordy in ways that I can only describe as Dirkways, he’s like the Verbal Antichrist.

I’d describe it with a Dirk translator, being: INPUT: "What you're doing is stupid."

OUTPUT: "All I can tell you is that the artifice you're performing here, is absolutely farcical."

So Dirk swears. He swears a lot, holding the title for the alpha kid who cusses the most. Thing is with his cussing, he doesn’t have a tendency to cuss people out (excluding Hal/AR but he only calls him a dumbass and a jackass), it’s more to just add expression to sentences, a little fuckin’ emphasis never hurt anyone. Dirk isn’t as polite to people as Jake is though, if he doesn’t wanna talk to someone, he’ll make it clear. The dude has a fairly low tolerance for bullshit.

When it comes to writing for Dirk, you need to take into account the circuitous vocabulary, one big batch of fucks and shits, the little passive aggressive and catty jabs, an arguably cold tone, the colorful analogies and the snarky cynicism.

I’ve read a lot of fanfiction involving Dirk and seen a lot of Dirk roleplayers in action, I’ve also noticed a few miscalculations and misjudgments of his character. (Yet again, I’m not spared from this, as someone whose actually written for Dirk before, I’ve made a lot of mistakes. Call this a self-callout if you will but yet again, these are from personal and secondhand experience).

I’d like to add before I delve into the list, in most of the Dirk-related fanfics I have read he's usually like.. The Background Dude who does and says nothing important, just kinda stands and nods his head as the main characters prance around. Either that, or he's The Boyfriend™ who does nothing but exist to be Jake's boyfriend and contributes absolutely nil to the plot. He just also kinda stands there, does some romance shit, then fucks off back to his apartment or whatever.

The mistakes I usually see people make are: 

Making Dirk extremely boring, monotone completely and never expressing literally anything, not even frustration. Dirk isn’t built like a robot, he does emote through his text (usually in ways that come off as a little passive aggressive, I really doubt it’s Always intentional). He has a personality and he isn’t a plank of wood, he has his interests and he’ll humor your thoughts. If he truly does not give a shit about whatever you’re talking about to him, he’ll make it clear, he doesn’t just sit there and go “Uhuh. Yeah. Yep.”

Unlike the problem in the Jake tips, Dirk is usually pelted with a shitload of bros, mans and dudes, he does use that language quite a bit but it’s sprinkled generously throughout his pesterlogs, it isn’t jammed into the apple crumble. That’d be greedy and also pretty monotonous to read. Seriously, be careful with how many times he says bro and dude in the span of 5 sentences.

This one is biased and is more due to my qualms with Old fanon Dirk, the 2012 teenage boy who was a weaboo and a brony. You can say it’s in the past, and I wish it was true, but I’ve seen it crop up a little. Seriously, you’re allowed to run around being all like, “Well my Dirk likes My Little Pony and anime, so fuck you!” I’m not here to gatekeep, I’m just saying. People tend to focus on these things a lot, like.. maybe too much. Also the gay thing, I’m gonna get to that.

One thing I see way too much is people making Dirk extremely rude to the other alpha kids. It’s fine if it’s fitting with the scenario, maybe something awful happened and he’s holding resentment, but just your regular Dirk isn’t gonna belittle his friends like that, he does genuinely like and care about his friends. The first pesterlog we have with Actual Dirk starts off with him asking Jane if she’s alright, he gives a shit. He’s expressed frustration towards his friends before (trickster Roxy) but he’s never been inherently rude or mean towards them, he has their best interests in mind but he just goes about it in the wrong ways. Something that kinda ties in with 1 is that he displays sentiment/affection in a strange way, he doesn’t actively go about hiding the fact that he gives a shit about his friends or specific things, he just cakes it in a layer of irony, except the irony is to Display that he gives a shit, instead of Repress it.

Oh boy. The gay thing. Ok, the problem with a very vocal minority of the fandom’s views on Dirk’s homosexuality are that they either erase it or they hyper-focus on it. Hyper-focusing on it being like “Oh look at this smol gay bean, he’s just megahomo.” and in their writing, they’ll emphasize on the “gay” things that he does, as if that’s his only personality trait. That and the whole DirkJake thing, now listen. I do like DirkJake, it’s my OTP but honestly man, people make him way too sexual towards Jake. There's more to his personality than loving Jake, I mean. He didn't even want to talk to a version of himself about it. You think he'd broadcast those feelings to everyone else?

Strider analogies? What Strider analogies? Dirk’s metaphor usage is often overlooked too, sometimes it’s completely forgotten, which kinda baffles me seeing as it’s a more than once occurrence. He uses analogies in a similar way to Dave, they’re usually fairly obscure but still somewhat relevant to the topic at hand. When Dirk strayed away from the topic at hand with Jane, he caught himself immediately, he knows when to shut up but not always.

Dirk isn’t an “uncultured swine”, he’s fairly up to date with pop culture, even being described in his introduction page as a “PRETERNATURAL POPCULTURE ACADEME.” You can look to the Detective Pony rewrites for better examples of his up to date Internet knowledge, arguably dated but that’s just because of the early 2010s, I’m sure if the alphas were introduced this year, he’d.. well. He’d know his shit. He’s considerably book smart but not as socially perceptive, this isn’t to say that Dirk is completely unaware of the consequences of all of his actions, but he makes a lot of mistakes. He’s only human.

Grammar, seriously. It’s strange making this the last (for now) point but I’ve seen a lot of Dirk roleplayers just completely forget about his perfect syntax and grammar, he does remove the g from words occasionally and he does break his text into lines, occasionally using ellipses. But that’s really it. It’s harder to convey emotion through typing in this way but it’s a part of his character.

Yet again, a long post, probably even longer than the Jake one but I hope this helps with writing or roleplaying as Dirk, or just if you’re curious really. Again, if there’s anything you think I got wrong or should add, feel free to let me know, I’ll update it stat.

If you’d like any personal critiques on your writing then I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to pinpoint everything wrong but I’d be happy to assist/see what you’ve got.