#when i get to college i could do little dorm dates n shit. maybe host drag practice nights or smth <33 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kiwi-bitchez · 4 years

Note

Can you do a frat Tom story, where he’s a cocky player and y/n hates him? One day, they get stuck at the campus laundromat together, so they start talking and Tom is actually funny and nice. Y/N lets her guard down and they start kissing. And then Tom takes advantage of the moment and his cocky side turns back on and he starts dominating. He takes her to the back and makes her get on her knees to blow him and he makes her gag for him and he's boasting and dirty talking.

Rinse and Spin

OOF This suggestion is HOT. Thank you!!! Honestly this had me sweating. I tried my best! Requests/suggestions are always open!

Summary: basically above, you and tom get stuck in the laundry room together and some smutty fun ensues. College!AU, Frat!Tom, Lowkey enemies to lovers

Warnings: Smut, mentions of alcohol, mostly smut, it’s all smut.

College was an exciting new chapter for you. Last year when you started school you were bright eyed and bushy tailed for all the new possibilities and independence that college brings. Living on your own, studying at your own pace, meeting new people, it all excited you.

However after a few semesters had gone by the excitement slowly wore off and you fell into a regular routine. You didn’t dislike school by any stretch, but you have always been keen on seeing things as they truly are.

One of the aspects of college that had really excited you was the idea that everyone would shed their immaturity from high school and grow up quickly. You hoped to meet people who took school seriously and didn’t have that unattractive immaturity that so many high school boys had.

This was all a fantasy in your head of course. There were still many people who disrespected professors, slept through all their classes, and acted like sixteen year olds who had been finally let loose from their parents. You assumed the freedom and expectations of college would cause everyone to grow up, but a girl can only dream.

The worst was Tom Holland. You had been partnered with him last semester for a group project and he lives up to all your expectations of a typical asshole frat boy.

He never bothered to learn your name, just calling you “babe” or “love” in that cocky way that probably worked on some girls, but not you. You ended up doing most of the project yourself because the idea of meeting up with him outside class seemed unbearable.

After that it was like you couldn’t stop running into him. At parties, in class, at the coffee shop, he was like an irritating bug that you couldn’t seem to squash.

He was the type of guy who loved being the center of attention. It came as no shock to you that he was the president of some stupid frat on campus, the one that threw the biggest parties. In your eyes frat boys had nothing filling their heads other than cheap beer and objectifying women. You tried your best to stay away from them, but did get dragged to the occasional party.

You had luckily found a group of friends that lived up to your expectations of mature college students, they were funny and smart and you were lucky to have them. The area you weren’t so lucky with was dating. You had a few hookups at parties but nothing worth writing home about, and most of the boys you met either bored you or fell into the asshole frat boy category.

You look around your small dorm room and decide to straighten some things up. You had finished all your assignments and your friends didn’t get out of class for a few hours, so this seemed like the perfect time to do some laundry.

You toss your dirty clothes into your hamper and head down to the communal laundry room in the basement. You didn’t bother changing out of your pajamas, some loose shorts and a t-shirt sans bra, you figured you’d be back in your room soon enough.

The door was open a crack, so you slip in and put down your heavy hamper next to an open washing machine. You notice someone sitting across the room out of the corner of your eye, it wasn’t unusual for students to wait for their laundry to finish.

However, the creeping feeling in your stomach, the way the hair on the back of your neck stood up on end gave away quickly who the figure was. Ugh, Tom. He had headphones on and seemed to be minding his business, so you hoped you could get your laundry in and leave before he noticed you and said some snarky remark.

That was the thing about Tom, you were one of the only girls who didn’t buy into his smooth accent and pretty face. You would call him out for his bullshit and tell him he’s a creep whenever he made a pass at you. You could tell he liked it though, the back and forth of you telling the other how much you despised them, he liked that you could dish it back.

You manage to get your clothes into the washer, but quickly realize that you left your laundry card upstairs. You dig around your wallet for some quarters, coming up with just the right amount. Jamming them into the busted machine you quickly lose hope of them working, realizing you’d have to go back up for your card.

“Need some help there sweetheart?” Tom asks from across the room.

Your hope of going unnoticed was shattered. Taking in a deep breath you roll your eyes and turn around to face him.

“No thanks sweetheart, machine won’t take my quarters,” you quickly turn back around, hoping that would be the end of the interaction.

You start to gather your things to head back upstairs when you notice that he’s left his spot and is walking up behind you.

“Here just use mine,” he holds his card out.

“No thanks Holland, not taking any favors from you.”

“Really, it’s no biggie,” he taps the card against the sensor in the machine and pays the $1.25 for your load, “it’s the least I can do after you got me that A on the bio project last semester.”

You were surprised that he even remembered that. You hold out your handful of quarters to pay him back.

“I don’t want your coins,” he chuckles.

“Well you certainly aren’t getting anything else from me,” you head towards the door, not knowing what to make of that interaction.

You needed the laundry card to swipe the door open, and it had been open a crack when you had come in.

“Hey,” you turn back around, “mind lending me that again so I can open the door?”

He runs up beside you and presses the card against the sensor, getting a little closer to you than you would have liked. The monitor turned red and starts blinking, indicating the card wasn’t working.

He tries again, “Strange, worked just a second ago.”

“Stop fucking with me Tom,” you grab the card from his hand, but it doesn’t work when you try either.

“Why do you always doubt me,” he takes the card back and examines it, “it’s not like I want to be stuck in here with you either.”

“Did you have the card near your phone?” you ask.

He realizes he had put the card back into the wrong pocket after paying for your laundry. The cheap cards are sensitive to technology and can get messed up if they get too close to a phone.

He takes his phone out of his pocket, “oh my god, of course you’re the type of person who doesn’t put a case on their phone,” you roll your eyes again at him.

“Guess you’re just gonna have to wait here with me until someone else can buzz us out.”

“Damn I better start screaming for help then.”

He lets out a chuckle and returns to his seat on top of one of the dryers. You might as well take a seat too, it may be awhile before someone comes to release you from this hell. You hop up onto one of the dryers across the room from him, desperately wishing you had your phone or anything to distract you.

“Cute shirt,” he comments.

“Shut up,” you realize he was probably commenting on how you weren’t wearing a bra.

“No, I mean it,” he sounded a little hurt, “that band is really cool.” Referencing the band logo on your tee.

You give him an inquisitive look, trying to read his motives.

“Last summer I worked security at a small concert venue downtown, got into a lot of cool shows for free.”

You would usually take this as him bragging, but he actually seemed interested in talking to you. He told you about some of the shows he worked at and you told him about the music festival you had gone to.

After talking like civilized humans for a while he decides to ask, “Why do you hate me so much?”

“Hmm?” You look up from the hem of your shirt that you had been fiddling with.

“It just seems like you hate me and you don’t even know me.”

“I think I know you well enough to know that we don’t get along.”

“That’s not true at all, you don’t know the first thing about me!” He got up from his spot and moved closer to you.

“I guess I just don’t want to bother getting to know some egotistical frat boy who thinks every girl wants his dick, you’re just like the rest of them. Even worse, you’re their freaking leader! What do you want me to know about you huh? How much beer you can chug? How many girls you’ve fucked? I’m not interested.”

“Wow, harsh,” he was actually a little hurt by your comment, but kept the smug grin plastered on his face.

“See, you’re not even listening to me. You just smile and nod until a girl opens her legs for you, so move on cuz I’m not buying it.”

“Oh, you think you’re so high and mighty because you stay cooped up in your dorm room studying like the perfect fucking princess you are,” his tone was mocking, “some of us manage to have fun and get good grades, you’re not special, doll, you’re just a buzzkill. I bet you’ve never even been to one of our frat parties.”

“I’ve been to a few,” you mumble defensively.

“So what, maybe it’s all kegs and tits some of the time, but we also do a lot of really cool stuff too.”

“Oh yeah, like what?” your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“We do a lot of charity type shit around campus, hosting events and stuff.”

“Charity type shit,” you mocked him.

“Last semester we did this event where we set up these big tables and just handed out free dildos and condoms and lube,” he started explaining.

“Wow, so charitable, your frat gives out free sex toys to get girls attention, sorry I ever questioned you Mother Theresa.”

“Hey, let me finish,” he puts up his hands, “we were petitioning against campus gun laws. We were trying to make a statement about how some sex toys are against campus rules but there are no gun laws.”

“Oh,” you felt really stupid, “that actually is pretty cool.”

“See, you always are so judgy, if you just listened to me for three seconds then maybe you wouldn’t hate me so much. You just jump to conclusions about people before even talking to them.”

“I guess,” you turn to him, now sitting next to you on the dryer, “Sorry.”

“See, I like cool music and dildos too, we aren’t so different you and I,” you still wanted to wipe the grin off his face.

“You don’t know that about me,” you say flatly.

“Okay well I do know that you are into that one band,” he gestures to your t shirt, “and you are really good at bio… and you do your laundry at weird times of the day…”

You turn to him and lower your eyes, giving him an exasperated look.

“And I know that you like coconut milk in your coffee, and you always get those chocolate pastry things…”

Your eyes widen a little, realizing how closely he must have paid attention to you to pick up on those things. You let your guard down for a second, giving him the benefit of the doubt for once.

“And I know that you look really good in just your pajamas,” he nudges your side, “and I know that… you have really pretty eyes…”

His eyes meet yours, and you suddenly felt so vulnerable.

“Shut up,” you whisper.

“I’m just telling you things that I know to be facts,” he whispers too, his face was very close to yours, and strangely you didn’t mind.

Your mind went a little fuzzy as you stared into his coffee colored eyes, no longer trying to read him and just appreciating their color. A magnetic pull drew your face to his, almost like something you couldn’t have stopped even if you had wanted to. Before you could even realize it, your lips were firmly planted on his, hands frantically coming up to the sides of his face.

Tom would be completely lying if he said he knew this would happen. He hadn’t been trying to win you over, smooth talk you like he did to other girls. The two of you had just been having a normal conversation.

He was taken aback because rarely was he the one being kissed, usually he was the initiator. It only took seconds before he kissed you back, lips moving in synchronicity with yours. Your tongues connected harshly and angrily. He couldn’t tell if you liked him or still hated him, but by the way you felt in his mouth he didn’t care.

Your eyes flutter open, mind finally processing your actions. You harshly pull back, hands quickly moving away from his face and grabbing down onto the edge of the dryer. Your eyes grew wide and a look that could be mistaken for terror flashed across your face.

“Um- I…,” your tongue felt dry and heavy in your mouth, like you were suddenly having an allergic reaction to what you had just done.

You couldn’t come up with anything to say, and before you could his lips were on yours again. He pulled you in by the back of your neck, tongue moving over yours quickly resuming where you had left off.

Neither one of you could reason why this was happening, but it felt too right to care. You let yourself get lost in the kiss, ignoring how crazy and stupid and strange you felt. Suddenly you were leaning back, letting him pin you down against the cold metal beneath you. His hands gripped your sides with purpose and certainty, something you hadn’t ever felt from someone.

His teeth lightly graze your lower lip, pulling it slightly from your mouth. You let out an unexpected whimper, it was quiet and quick but you were sure he had heard. He did. It drove him fucking crazy.

He felt your body writhe underneath him, back arching slightly as his hands slid up your sides. Quickly realizing that the top of a washing machine was not the best place for this, he lifts you up, moving you so you were now straddling his lap.

A small gasp escaped you, surprised at how his strong arms swooped you up so easily. You let your whole body weight sink down onto his lap, pressing your chest tightly against his. Now it was his turn to let out a groan that wouldn’t go unnoticed.

He somehow slides off the machine and stands up, keeping you wrapped up against his torso. He moved with purpose across the small room, slipping into the small back room where no one could see you.

You were lost in the movement of the kiss when you feel your back firmly press against the wall, his body leaning into yours, the kiss getting hotter and wetter. You involuntarily roll your hips towards him, searching for some friction.

“Tell me you want me,” he groans into your mouth.

The way he looked at you like a hungry animal made your breath catch in your throat. His mouth moved to your neck and he buried his head there, kissing and sucking at your soft skin. The haze in your mind cleared for a second of clarity and you spoke with more conviction,

“I refuse to be one of your sexual conquests, Holland,” you continued to roll your hips against his, “You don’t get to tell everyone you fucked some nerdy girl in the laundromat.”

“Our secret,” he moves back to your lips, “but I need to hear you say it.”

“I want you,” your voice shrunk to a whisper.

One of his hands comes up to your chin, angling your head so he has full access to your neck. His tongue works against your pulse point as his hands come down to your things. Your shorts were a thin material, and he could easily feel you through them.

He squeezes your upper thighs, slowly moving up to your hips, pulling you into him.

“Tell me what you want,” your eyes roll back as his hands creep towards your dripping center, “tell me where to touch you.”

“Please,” you felt pathetic, but you press your hips further, trying to make contact with his hand, “I need you to touch me.”

His fingers dance under the hem of your shorts, moving up to your damp underwear.

“Is this all for me?” he says, almost mockingly, “I did this to you?”

You could only moan into his mouth as his fingers slipped into your underwear and moved against your wet folds. You tried to grind into his hand, but his grip on your hip kept you firmly planted against the wall.

“You act like you hate me, but you’ve been dripping for me this whole time haven’t you?”

He slipped a finger into you, curling it perfectly against your inner walls. He could feel you squeeze against him, your arousal starting to cover his whole hand. You couldn’t answer his question, rhetorical in nature, only gasp into his parted lips as he added a second finger.

He lowers his head to nip at your chest through your thin t-shirt, teeth grazing your nipple through the fabric. You manage to slip out of it, still pressed against the wall, legs shaky under you.

His mouth comes down to attack your chest with bites and hickeys as he continues pumping his two long fingers into you, thumb moving tight circles on your clit. You were slightly embarrassed at how quickly you felt your climax nearing. You had always thought of him as a cocky player, but at least this boy knew exactly what he was doing.

You moan out his name with a slew of profanities, eyes closing tightly. His lips move up to your ear, speaking directly to you as you start to shake under him,

“What is it?” his tone was arrogant and knowing.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come soon,” you squeak out.

“I’m going to make you come,” his hand suddenly moving faster and harder.

“Mmmhh, yes Tommy, you’re making me feel so fucking good.”

“I want you to come on my fingers, and then I want you to get on your knees and suck my cock with those pretty lips of yours.”

Your moans were getting higher pitched, his words only intensifying how good he was making you feel.

“I bet you’d like that huh. You wanna feel my cock in your mouth?”

You bite your lip and nod, feeling yourself tip over the edge with a cry of his name. His thumb moved quickly against your clit, fingers plunging a little deeper as he felt you contract around him.

You collapse forward, grabbing onto his shoulder, biting down on his skin to silence your own screams. You catch a glance at his face, that stupid cocky smirk still plastered onto him. In this moment you couldn’t bother to care, you could only focus on staying standing as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

When your eyes finally came back into focus, he was pulling his fingers from you and slipping them into his mouth. His thumb brushes across your jaw, migrating to press into your lower lip. You let your mouth slip down onto his digit, your tongue pressing against his thumb.

“Look at you,” he pulls his finger back, dragging your lower lip with it, “so fucking good for me.”

You give him a wide eyed look and start making work of his belt. His cock is hard and firmly pressed against the inside of his jeans. You palm him through the thick material for a second while dealing with the button and zipper.

You sink to your knees, fulfilling his request from earlier.

“Wait, here,” he grabs a towel off of a nearby machine and places it on the ground in front of him, “for your knees, the ground is really hard.”

It made you laugh how he had been so cocky one second and thoughtful the next.

“Thank you,” you say softly as you pump the shaft of his dick, looking up at him with big eyes while bringing your tongue out to lick a stripe up the underside.

His shirt was off now too and you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful his body was. You had always recognized that Tom was conventionally very attractive, but suddenly he was fucking hot to you.

You swirl your tongue around his tip and watch as his head tips back, causing him to let out a groan. You take his hand and move it to your hair, giving him permission to hold it.

He twists your hair into a makeshift ponytail, brushing the stray pieces back from your face. He grips tightly, pulling a little. You give him a moan and a nod, letting him know it was okay to pull harder.

He moves your head back and forth to meet your movements, hips moving slightly in the process. You gag a little as he hits the back of your throat, but continue bobbing your head, letting him slide down your throat a little every so often.

“Fuck, you look so good on your knees for me, gagging on my cock,” he tightens his grip on your hair, “taking me so well.”

The sight of you on your knees for him, lips wrapped perfectly around his shaft sent shivers down his spine. He watched attentively as his cock slid in and out of your mouth, your saliva leaving a wet trail around his length. What killed him was when you would look up at him through your eyelashes, big doe eyes begging him to fuck your face.

You dare to move south, taking one of his balls in your mouth as you continue jerking him off. You moan into him as he pulls your hair, vibrations adding to his pleasure.

“Fuck y/n, you’re fucking dirty aren’t you?” He was a little surprised at how aggressive you were taking him, shoving his cock deeper and deeper down your throat.

“I bet you’ve thought about this before, being a good girl on your knees for me, taking what I give you.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you flatten your tongue against his shaft, letting his hips do the work. You surely had never thought about him in this way before, that he was wrong about, but you surely would be thinking about sucking his dick all the time from now on.

You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, swelling a little at the feeling of your tongue. You knew he was close by his grip on your hair and his hip movements. You take him deep down your throat, sucking and lapping up his shaft.

“I’m gonna come y/n,” he warns you, although you already knew.

You continue to suck vigorously, swallowing his come and continuing to suck on him until his legs are shaking a little under your grasp. He lets go of your hair, which messily falls down around you. You release his dick from your mouth with a pop, admiring your work as it was red and twitching.

Tom slumps down against the wall and sits on the floor, meeting you at eye level. You look at him for a second, unable to read his reaction. You knew he liked it by the noises he had been making, but he sat across from you running his hands through his hair.

“What the fuck was all that.”

“I don’t know! You tell me!” you say defensively, “You seemed to like it.”

“Well yeah, you seemed to like it too,” he retorts, “actually, you seem to like it much more than most girls like sucking cock in my experience.”

“What can I say, you have a pretty dick.”

“Only pretty cuz it fits in your mouth so well.”

What were you doing? Was this flirting? You stand up and shake yourself off, walking over to where your clothes had been discarded. You start to slip your underwear back on.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Tom jokes, also getting up from the floor.

“Someone could walk in, plus I have to switch my laundry, gonna need your card again by the way.”

“This is some kind of fucked up trade off if you ask me,” he jokes.

“Still hate me?” He quips, always cocky.

“Jury’s still out,” you start to move your clothes into the dryer, “I’m gonna need to see more of what you have to offer before I decide.”

“Well, the dryer takes about an hour and I was hoping to make you come a few more times. Wanna see that pretty look on your face again.”

You sit up on top of the dryer and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.”

#tom holland smut #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #smut #marvel smut #college!au #enemies to lovers #ask #suggestion #frat!tom #fratboy!tom #frat!tom holland

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bibbykins · 4 years

Text

Heliophilic Rain and His Pluviophile (M)

Yikes, it’s been a hot minute. That’s my bad. I have been having it a little rough with my job and so I’m in the process of finding another one and that among a billion other things is slowing me down. Which makes me wonder if I were to open commissions if anyone would be interested? I also would like to add there is a scene that could be triggering so proceed with caution, please. Either way, thank you for your patience as always, and I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: (Soft) Yandere! Yoongi x Reader Genre: Smut/Fluff

Word Count: 8.5k

Warnings: possessiveness, yandere tendencies, anxiety, unspoken threat of sexual assault, slight violence, oral, penetrative sex, cock warming, toxic relationship (he's yandere ya kno)

Summary: He was the rain just as you were the sun, both too transfixed with watching each other to get any closer. Few things feel more refreshing than drops of fresh rain on heated skin or the warmth of the sun on a gloomy day. It would be a shame to not indulge in the natural wonders of the world before you.

“Her voice was like the wind. I could listen until it was all that filled me. I could listen until she swept me away into the vast ocean of her presence. I would drown if it meant I would drift back to her. Her voice was like the wind. No matter how much I tried to catch it, I would get carried away. Suddenly, I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. Suddenly, home was wherever she said it was, so long as she did so with that voice of hers.”

“His voice was like the tap of rain against a window. He was asking me to go out to see him, but there was something beautiful about the way I knew he wasn’t referring to me specifically. I was a mere onlooker to his presence. Even so, I would catch a cold if it meant I could reach him, even for a moment. I thought this, knowing I would never have the guts to go outside. I made peace with this until the taps on my window turned into knocks on my door.”

——-

The office had an industrial-chic style about it, filled with neutral tones and the clanging of chains for no other purpose except fashion donned upon its employees. The color palette was gloomy and soothing, just how Yoongi liked it, an aesthetic that his employees gleefully shared with him as well. Each morning, Yoongi would look out his office and admire his growing business, eyes never lingering on one place too long, he loved all of the office equally. This much rang true until he couldn’t tear his eyes away from your form.

“She’s like a breath of fresh air, isn’t she?” Hoseok placed his hand on Yoongi’s soldier as he watched you through the glass doors of the conference room you were currently introducing yourself in, “Don’t be too hard on her, she’s competent and hardworking, okay?”

Yoongi could barely hear his friend as he lost himself in the way your eyes crinkled from a genuine smile adorning your face. You were his new host to one of the podcasts his company picked up. From the merger with Hoseok’s company full of his college friends, Yoongi went from popular podcast host and semi-popular producer to a CEO of Min Productions, famous music artists in production and performance, who oversaw the production of music and several podcasts on several topics, and you were what he had initially dreaded.

From the merger, came money, but what also came with it was Namjoon, the PR head of the company Hoseok was a part of, being able to choose one of every five talents for Yoongi to build up, hopefully into fame. Yoongi had just reached his fifth host, the podcasts he chose mostly consisting of music commentary or general life talks from people with aesthetics aligned with his own. However, from the sea of neutral colors and low voices partaking in casual conversation came you.

You were a perky college senior with some light in your eyes still. You were a rare find and had no set style ranging anywhere from pastels to the grunge he was used to seeing, but what never changed was your smile. Your teeth made an appearance at least 10 times a day, judging by the third smile you had just flashed the crew in a two-minute time frame.

Your podcast, however, oddly betrayed your attitude. You ran a sex and lifestyle podcast where you asked questions most people were too shy to throw out into the world pertaining to the unspoken social rules of casual dating and sex. It was interesting, yes, but it didn’t align with the brand Yoongi had been building judging by the synopsis.

The fuss he made to Namjoon ended as soon as he sat down and listened to a podcast of yours.

—–

“I have a formal complaint I would like to file!” You proclaimed as Yoongi found himself listening to your most recent podcast, “Why the fuck can’t I get a sugar daddy my age? It’s almost like… like my age demographic consists mostly of broke-ass college kids living with their parents, in a dorm, or like ya girl, an overpriced apartment and not rich as fuck for no reason. Fucking whack, I’ll say it.” He unwittingly cracked a smile at your charm and sarcasm, “I spent one day on sugarbaby.com and had to watch vanilla straight porn at the number of wrinkly dicks I saw instead of profile pictures. That’s like the most boring porn. So here comes a Patreon plug for the brainwashing I will conduct on myself in case I saw anyone’s grandfather’s penis.” You had an unabashed charm about you that urged him to listen more, maybe just one more episode.

Yoongi found himself listening to your entire discography, even the less promoted music you released once every blue moon, which wasn’t half-bad. However, he couldn’t find a picture of you, most likely because you posted under the alias Sugar Sun. The only pictures of yourself being from behind.

“On this episode of men are trash: men are fucking trash. Hello all, Sugar Sun here, and let’s talk about my day,” Yoongi could feel his intrigue grow, as you kept releasing, your delivery became less forced and more natural, “I don’t talk much in class, believe it or not. I’m a stuttering mess and like two people know my name at my big ass university, so when I do talk and my shit hole of a lab partner yells at me in the middle of a presentation to speak up, I cry, in front of the class. But do I stop the presentation? No, I’m fucking frozen with fear, so I just continue with my tears and the presentation. Bitch, what the fuck I looked like a middle school drama kid doing a monologue in front of her math class for no fucking reason.” You took a deep breath, “In conclusion, I’m sensitive and men are trash. Now, to the podcast.”

You had gained more traction with your commentary on romantic life and general comedy, catching Namjoon’s attention, “Hello again, double S here, with a special announcement. I got like, an actual company to sign me! Wild, I know! I’ll get paid and have meet-ups and stuff, which means you lovely listeners will get to soak in my face and talk to me in person and really experience why the only orgasms I’ve had are self-made!”

—–

“Yoongi!” Hoseok tapped his shoulder, snapping him out of his trance you put him in.

“Sorry, she’s just-”

“Be nice,” Hoseok warned.

“Like sunshine.” Yoongi could feel the air enter his lungs as you sat down with a smile, “Like, what the fuck, Hobi?”

His friend blinked, “Woah, shit, what?” He stifled a laugh, “You know, there isn’t a no-dating policy, right?”

“I’m well aware.” Yoongi rolled his eyes, “But there will be if anyone tries anything.” He spoke nonchalantly and Hoseok choked on air at his friend’s obliviousness while the glass doors of the conference rooms were opened, you pouring out from it, waltzing to Yoongi and Hoseok.

“Hello, Mr. Min and Ho-Mr. Jung, I’m Y/n, or Sugar Sun, thank you for this amazing opportunity.” You bowed as Hoseok shook off his bewilderment for just a moment to give you a small bow with Yoongi.

“I look forward to spending more time with you.” Yoongi spoke in his regular gruff voice, the same one that proclaimed to have your hand in marriage just moments before, “I find you’ll be a breath of fresh air to the company.”

“I also look forward to seeing how your podcasts go, you have a photoshoot in a couple weeks, right?” Hoseok smiled warmly at you as you beamed back to him. Yoongi swore the whole exchange was blinding.

“I do! I’m a little nervous, since it’ll be my big face reveal, and I don’t know how well I model.” You giggled and Yoongi found his new favorite song the moment you did.

Yoongi had a tendency to do this, whether or not he wanted to. He was a passionate man. He craved love and could see it coming from a mile away. Despite being one of the seven main heartthrobs of his college campus, he almost exclusively stuck to serious relationships, and he meant it when he said serious. Yoongi was a little, to put it lightly, obsessive. He was a jealous boyfriend, but he did his best to try not to be too overbearing. He was also excessively protective, and the women he dated were grungy free spirits who enjoyed the chase when all Yoongi wanted was to catch them then hold them for the rest of his life. Despite being blinded by his own passion, he could still see when it wasn’t going to last, having accepted to never find a girl to accommodate and sedate him when needed. However, when you looked his way, or he heard your voice, it was something more than a need being filled.

You felt your heart leap out of his chest, trying not to fall into Yoongi’s hands when you first saw him, and here he was, nonchalantly giving you an inkling of a smile. Maybe it was the lack of a solid fuck or a relationship, but you were definitely breaking some HR rules in your mind.

Suddenly, you became aware of the content you dished out. You talked about your sex life often, and he knows you’re inexperienced and terribly horny. You internally punched yourself in the face. He probably thinks you’re so weird. Yet, here you were, a huge fan of Agust D and now Min Yoongi was staring at you.

Yoongi smiled, “Don’t worry, I’ve had my experience with a face reveal or two.”

You returned his smile, remembering the day Agust D revealed his face. The whole world stopped, and you only fell deeper when you looked at his eyes, “I-I remember, I’m a fan.” You looked down shyly before facing him again.

“Funny, I am a fan of yours.” He spoke lowly as Hoseok had long walked away unnoticed.

You giggled stupidly, “A fan?” Your sunny smile beamed at him. He had always preferred rainy days, but if this was what the sun looked like, he could get used to being a little warm here and there, “I can hardly believe it.”

“I’m gone a lot and yet, your voice has a certain factor to it that draws people in. ” He mused as his eyes trapped you, “I wonder where you’ve been all my life.”

Just like that, the bubble popped. The chimes came to a screeching halt. The rose-tinted glasses were abruptly ripped off of your face. The magic cleared, and you were left with the realization that while you had damn near counted every interaction, no matter how minuscule, and he hadn’t cared to remember you until now.

“Here’s my personal cell,” He hands you a pristine card with silver numbers, “Call me if you need anything, and I mean it.” You take the card with a quaint smile that deflates

He’s never noticed you until now, of course. The answer to his thoughts was that you’ve been right here.

Before Yoongi could register the chill in the air without your smile, Hoseok came back, “Hey Yoongs, let’s go, we got a flight in a few hours.“

“Right.” Yoongi breaks eye contact with you.

“Have a good flight!” You smile, not as wide as before, and Yoongi sees it.

“See you Tuesday, y/n!” Hoseok waves.

“Don’t be late!” You giggle and as soon as they both are out of earshot, Yoongi grills him.

“You know her?!” Yoongi snaps as he enters the town car.

Hoseok blinks at him, confused, “Duh? I thought that was a given.” Upon seeing his friend’s puzzled face remain, Hoseok’s eyes went wide, “Holy shit, you don’t remember her?!”

The older male blinked in confusion, “I’ve never met her before?”

The younger businessman threw his head back as he placed his hands over his face in frustration, “She was in our forensics class and our history class last year’s fall semester and the year before!” He was exasperated, “Remember the super genius sophomore?”

Yoongi racked his brain. Last year? He had been dating some angsty theology major. How could he have let himself be blinded by a temporary fling when the love of his life was right there? He could kick himself at this moment. No wonder your smile faltered, you had remembered him, “Liar, you can’t be serious.”

“Dude, she tutors me to this day in history.” Hoseok deadpanned, “All she requires is I buy her meals that day.”

“How often do you guys have study dates?” Yoongi grits out as his friend snorts at the notion of it being a date.

“Your possessive is showing,” He snickered, “My girl is all I can see these days, no matter how cute y/n is.”

“I will end you if you touch her,” Yoongi doesn’t hesitate, “Especially with the way you treat girls,” His face scrunches in disgust before he grumbled, “But how often?”

“Every other Tuesday.” Hoseok smirked, “And you mean used to treat girls.”

Yoongi huffed in agreeance.

—-

“Hello, party people.” Your voice entered Yoongi’s headphones as he leaned back on his hotel bed, “Sugar Sun here, in my bedroom. We’re calm, we’re casual, it is a Friday night and this one goes out to my fellow homebodies.” You switched off to play a song. Part of the contract you signed was that you are allowed to go live whenever you liked to encourage and tend to fans. You explained it was almost a tradition for you to set aside a Friday night in once a month for your fans and Yoongi found in comforting as he lay alone.

Your taste in music was so unbelievably cute, he couldn’t help but smile at the lo-fi song, “And we’re back, hello all here and all who are joining as I speak. Today I took a tour of the studio my actual podcasts will be recorded in and holy shit, they seem to actually take me seriously as a personality and even artist, so expect some tunes soon.” Yoongi smiled at this, you don’t even know your potential, “I’m looking at the chat now to see if there are any questions, and- oh, yes, I did meet my boss. Yes, the iconic Min Yoongi. He is as dreamy as they say, but I have actually met him before.” Yoongi sunk a little further in shame, “Did he remember me?” You read from the chat, “No, of course not. I’m a voice, but no one will know me if I don’t use it.” You sighed out and he felt his heart clench. He was such a fucking idiot. “Which I don’t much beyond this mic. Am I scared to say this now that he’s my boss?” He held his breath a bit, “No, I doubt he’s listening. He said he was my fan, but he could just have said that to be a nice guy.” You laughed, a hint of sadness evident, “What a fucking disaster I must seem like if he were to, huh?” The sadness in your voice more prominent, “If he is, hi Mr. Min, please erase this from your memory, as well as my sophomore haircut.”

The live went on as normal and Yoongi drifted to sleep to the melodious sound of your voice for the remainder of the flight. However, even in his dreams, you were just out of reach, and he couldn’t begin to put into words how much it killed him.

—-

You don’t know how you got here. You looked around at the shabby setup. This "photography studio” looked a lot, and you mean a lot, like it was a half-assed school set not long ago. You scoffed, throwing your hands up incredulously when you caught sight of a black couch. You really hated your manager.

The jackass was assigned to you and you were too scared to say how uncomfortable he made you. He treated you like a child, but the way he looked at you was too adult for your taste. He was constantly texting you and asking for photos of your face, which you were constantly rejecting. To top it all off, he wants you to call him Big Brother, not Oppa, Big Brother. You opted for Big Bro instead, since he won’t give you his name. No, to top it all off, he booked your photo shoot with a “friend” of his to “save the company money”. He asked you to show up in a dress no longer than your knees and you felt dumber and dumber as time went on for doing so.

You stood in the middle of this studio-warehouse apartment waiting for this great photographer to show up. As you stood here, your initial thought was “how fucking ridiculous is that” but the longer you were there and the more you studied the ropes that were no longer as well hid, something in your stomach began to turn.

You were in actual fucking danger. This situation could not be a funny story if you didn’t live to tell it. Your eyes darted from different red flags in the room. A spot of dried blood scratches on the cheap wallpaper, bare plaster marks against the beige wall, a poorly-concealed camera you hadn’t noticed until now. Your chest squeezed when your phone vibrated.

You could get out of here! All you had to do was send an SOS.

Hoseok: Good luck in the photoshoot from my other half and I!

You smiled lovingly at the snapchat from the male, the more permanent girl in his life with a smile on her face and an encouraging thumbs-up. They were evidently on a date, finally, so there was no way you could call them to come get you. You would hate to bother them.

Mr. Min: Let me know how the shoot goes.

You faltered over the message. He was professional as ever. Would he think less of you if you abandoned a shoot like this?

Yoongi agonized over the three dots that stared him down. He had to remind himself to blink as he watched the minutes tick by that felt like hours. What the hell were you typing?

It had been about a couple of weeks since you’ve been under Yoongi’s company and all had been normal. Your routine was the same, and so was his. Except for this time, you two would exchange polite texts on what the other would do.

Sugar Sun: Great song as always!

You would always send exclamation points or some sparkle emojis, even a sun here and there. Yoongi found himself unable to shield his cheesy grin at the texts you sent him. You were always the first person to praise his new work. He found himself craving your praise more and more, but he forced himself to remain professional.

Mr. Min: Loved your live.

He always used punctuation despite using fragments which somehow added an aura of professionalism that he effortlessly radiated in person. Nevertheless, you would always send back a sparkly thank you which made Yoongi melt. He prided himself on not overstepping boundaries by attempting to control your professional life. His self-restraint proved quite strong as he held himself back from taking you out to lunch or giving you special treatment. This restraint was put to the ultimate test when he found out you were assigned Hyungin as your manager. He was an unfortunate employee with constant reports that would ultimately be rescinded by the female employees.

He was a disgusting piece of shit, Yoongi deduced. Hyungin was the brother of the management agency contracted by his company, per Namjoon’s damn insistence, and he was itching for that contract to end, and soon. Yoongi had to physically hold himself back when he found this information out, trying to respect you by not meddling or keeping tabs on you.

His resolve was a very thin string that was tugged and tugged as the days went on with Hyungin having total control over your schedule and an excuse to contact you 24/7. You were a strong girl and had not made a report. He had to respect that.

Your lip began to twitch, a movement you quickly halted as you shook the fear off. Maybe you were overreacting. Maybe you were being stuck up. You weren’t like Yoongi, maybe you had to photoshoot in shabby places.

You: I’m kind of scared…

You shook your head, erasing the message and locking your phone. You huffed, it was 30 minutes past the scheduled time. Surely you had the right to leave? You heard the back door open and could feel the bile lurch in your throat.

Something was very wrong. You were not overreacting. There were several heavy footsteps and as they thudded through the warehouse, nearing your reaching form, you could not deny the quaking fear that traveled through your veins like electricity.

One? Two? No, four sets of steps. The uneven rhythm proved as much, too many for a measly photoshoot. Too many for you to take on all at once. The correct amount to hold you down. The correct amount to-

“Little sis, are you here?” A sickening voice called out and you realized the steps stopped with only his continuing.

He was trying to surprise you.

“Come on, dear, let’s get to know each other.” You could hear the predatory smirk on his face and you choked on a horrified breath as the fear pricked your skin and pierced your lungs.

You were choking on your own horror.

“Come out, come out,” He called and you were frozen, absolutely fucking frozen.

Run.

You stood up, breaking into a sprint that was a hair too slow. You felt a calloused, obscenely rough handgrip your forearm with a vigorous force and you screamed. He was squeezing, and at this rate, your bones would surely snap, “Not so fast, little girl.” He stood next to you, breath pungent with halitosis. From peripheral vision, you could see his five o'clock shadow and you realized the size difference and the lack of camera. You couldn’t stop screaming, mimicking every cell in your body that seemed to yell,

RUN.

Just like lightning, you struck him with your head, harder than you knew you could stand. His nose gave you an all too satisfying crack and his grip loosened enough for you sprint again, this time more than quick enough to keep going. You heard the clamoring of footsteps and eventually, all you could hear was the sound of the wind as you turned corners you had no familiarity with, running until your legs could no longer carry you.

Your legs finally shook you down to your knees in a part of town you barely recognized. You had passed through here once before as a freshman in college sight-seeing. It was a tourist spot and you exhaled on the sidewall as people stepped around you.

You heaved a breath that you swore you had been holding for hours with a small victorious smile. Your eyes scanned the area of regular people and your hands shaking brought attention to the purse you thankfully still had.

Without thought, you ripped it open, using your phone to call the first person you could.

“Y/n?” His voice was gruff, as if he was whispering whilst trying to talk normally, “Is everything okay?” He seemed confused, you had never called him before.

“Can you… uh…” You faltered after realizing the strangled sound you made, voice raw from the screams you let out, “…please come get me.” You nearly whispered.

“Send me your location, I’m on my way.” Yoongi didn’t miss a beat before adding, “Stay where you are, don’t go near anyone.” He ended the phone call and you followed his directions, dropping your pin. You sighed in relief as you took refuge on the sidewalk, draping the cardigan in your bag over your shoulder, securing it around yourself.

Yoongi shot up from his office chair, looking at his employees mid-powerpoint. His marketing team turned into ice at his gaze. His eyes were much darker than a moment ago, and his jaw was like stone, “I have an emergency to attend to, we will proceed at a later date.” The room nodded stiffly as their boss walked out, all of them unaware why, having been too scared to even try to listen to his phone call.

Never in Yoongi’s life had he sped so recklessly. You were 10 minutes away and something was wrong. Your voice had never sounded so vulnerable. He had never heard it that quiet before. You were in a plaza of popular building, and if you had a photo shoot today, this would not be near any studio at all. His blood boiled at the thought of anyone taking away your light.

He slammed on the brakes when he caught sight of your shrunken form on the sidewalk, your head jerked up at the sound as your entire body jumped. Why were you so scared? Your face had a small streak of makeup on the side of your face and his skin only flared as you scurried into the car and Yoongi began driving to a more familiar side of town.

“Please don’t take me home.” You pleaded, unable to face him due to the shame.

Yoongi chose not to prod, for the time being, only nodding in response as he drove. He could see you stare out the window at the passing building and he watched your shaking for curl into the car seat. He settled on this resolve of leaving you alone all the way up to the inside of his apartment until your lip quivered as you plopped down on the couch, eyes unwavering from its spot at your feet. Then, you began to cry. No, not cry, sob, sob your hardest and just like that, a single tear snapped the ever-thinning string of restraint he had left.

You were pulled into Yoongi’s chest as sobs racked through your body, you clutched his shirt as you soaked it with tears of fear, relief, joy, and you couldn’t stop. Hell, you could barely breathe. Even so, Yoongi held you as his expensive dress shirt crumbled under your grip and stained with your mascara and eyeliner proving not to be as water-resistant as you hoped. His grip was unwavering and when a hand went to stroke your hair, you could feel oxygen reach your lungs again.

“It’s okay.” He breathed, “You’re safe now.” He fought the urge to clench his jaw again as you gripped his shirt harder.

Your breathing began to even as he whispered soft words into your ear until your eyes couldn’t cry anymore. The both of you stood there for what felt like an eternity, clinging onto one another as he felt the softness of your cardigan against his hands. You eventually broke the silence with a meek, “I’m so sorry."

"Why is that?” He spoke softly, his last intent was to scare you.

“I ran away from the shoot, and I know it’s not professional but…” You shivered, “ He didn’t have a camera.” Yoongi could kill somebody, “He had three other guys with him.” Someone, no, all of them are going to have to pay, he concluded. Nobody involved would leave the ordeal with their lives intact. They would lose everything for trying to take his sunshine away, for making your light falter, for even a moment.

He ripped himself from you, to sternly meet your eyes, “Do not apologize for the swine you encountered.” Your eyes only reflected sorrow, “You’re alive, and that is what matters most, okay?” You nodded.

“You’re not mad at me?” Your voice cracked against your will as you looked up at Yoongi, eyes glassy and begging for reassurance.

He visibly softened, “No, Sunshine, I could never be mad at you.” You nodded in understanding, “But will you let me fix this for you?”

Maybe you should have known from the beginning. You looked at Yoongi, so eager to be your saving grace, eyes intense with intent, and yet his touch was so soft. A man in love was a dangerous man, you once read in a book. Yet, never in your life have you craved such a man before, and if Yoongi’s rage mixed with infatuation could measure close to love, you would take it. He was powerful, he was kind, and he was pleasing to the eye. He was offering you the world in that one question.

“Please.” You cast your pride aside, “They don’t deserve mercy.” An angry tear went down your cheek, “I’m so tired of trying to brave it, doubting myself, denying myself any chance of help.” You could feel the tear trickle with hot fury, “I’m so fucking sick of relying on myself.”

Yoongi was quick to catch the tear with the softest hand you’ve ever felt, “I’m here now.” He spoke with the utmost confidence.

Your relationship with Yoongi from that point for the next couple of months was interesting, to say the least. You had somehow moved in upon his request, him rationalizing it by saying they knew where you lived. Granted, he wasn’t wrong. Hyungin knew where you lived, but within two weeks he and the monsters you encountered were promptly locked in a very dangerous maximum-security prison. You decided not to dwell on how they took such a shitty deal with a well-deserved long sentence.

Some things were above your pay grade, and you made peace with it.

Even so, he didn’t stop there. He could no longer stand on the sidelines anymore. That line blurred beyond recognition the moment he held you in his arms. He was essentially your new manager, stating he owed you at least that much after letting you fall into the hands of such a monster. Thankfully, the releasing of official statements and press conferences were received well. The victim-blaming for the nature of your podcast kept to an obsolete minimum. Your face still had not been released upon your request and you were able to move on, the media no longer covering the story as the sentencing was sealed.

The months passed in a flurry of Yoongi being awfully vague each time you asked about his personal life. He was constantly home outside of work, which you didn’t mind, but you didn’t want him to put his social life on your accord. You also had much less confidence in his infatuation for you then you did a couple months ago. Every time you tried to make a move, which meant a small brush of physical contact, he was not responding. The last time he gave you affection was the hug during your breakdown. The most you got out of him were a couple of head pats.

Like that did anything for you.

For crying out loud, you ran a sex and lifestyle podcast with no sex from the hot man you lived in the same home as.

Hell, the most emotion you see from him is the purest politeness you have ever encountered.

“Hello my listeners, welcome to the obligatory virginity talk.” Your voice was crisp in the mic as Yoongi laid in his bed, headphones in, listening to the newly released podcast. He was still a loyal listener, despite you living in his guest bedroom. He still could not get enough of your voice. If anything, he craved you more and desperately held himself back. He loved having you with him, but never did he think he would have to turn to rubbing one out during your more racy episodes or when he heard you pleasuring yourself in the dead of night.

Not even his thoughts could satiate him with you right there, and yet, out of reach.

“It has come to my attention that many of you think I’m a virgin, not that it’s an insult..” He could hear the smile in your voice, “Alas, I am not, but that doesn’t change my hand being the most impressive thing my pussy has seen, I’ll tell you what.” You giggled at this, “No, I take that back, my magic wand is my BFF.” Yoongi shifted, wondering if you had your toys in your room. He had sent for all of your things after all. God, he could already feel his dick hardening. How pathetic you make him at the very thought of you fucking yourself silly, eyes rolled back, vibrator against your clit. He huffed, shaking away the thoughts, “ Anyhow, let’s talk trends I am late to, rare, I know, but what’s this whole spelling coconut with your hips riding someone business?” You pondered, “I haven’t ridden someone in a good while, and my dildo can’t tell me if it feels good, so I’m at a loss here.” You sighed almost longingly, “God, I miss getting fucked, but also romanced,” You groaned, “It’s been a rough as fuck dry couple of months, which didn’t bother me for a while considering… you know, but the world keeps turning and I stay alone but moving on…” You droned and Yoongi went into overdrive.

Did you seriously want to fuck someone? Like someone else? You were living with him now, why would you feel the need to have relations with anyone else? His fists clenched at the very concept. You couldn’t be talking for show, you were say too genuine. Before he could even stop himself, he marched over to his bedroom door, ripping it open.

Only when he did had did he realize that you were in front of him, hand raised to knock on the door, “Oh, hey.” You gave him a smile as you slowly retreated your raised arm, “I was just gonna see if you wanted to watch a movie with me?” Every so often you both would have a movie night in which you would try to understand his feelings with small touches and ultimately fail. Nevertheless, you enjoyed his company. Today, you were buying into an article’s advice and watching a scary one. Not that you were terrified, but you were a jumpy person.

At this rate, you couldn’t tell if you were horny or just wanted affection.

Both, probably.

Your crush on Yoongi had only worsened throughout this whole experience to top it off. He was hot and kind who could blame you? And yet, he never made a single move as if he had no interest. God, what if he didn’t have any interest?

Your heart sank for a moment, “If not, I think I was gonna try to go out-”

“No!” Your eyes widened at Yoongi’s panicked tone when he cleared his throat, “I mean, I want to watch a movie, so you don’t have to go out.” He muttered and you nodded slowly. He could not have you going out, not after what he heard. You were craving other people. He couldn’t bear the thought.

“O…kay…” You smiled a bit, “Well, I picked a scary one if you think you can hang.” You gave him a sly smile before going to make popcorn.

He smiled as he watched you prance to the kitchen. You were so beautiful and fun and everything he’s ever needed. All that was left was for you to be his, but he didn’t want to scare you away. He had to be a gentleman. He had to wait for the right time. That’s what Jin, Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung said. The only issue was that he had no idea what the hell that meant.

“You know, Mr. Min-”

“Yoongi.” He was quick as ever to correct you, “Please.” He sounded more desperate than usual and you nodded.

“Right, well I was just going to say that you have absurd taste in snacks.” You said with a chuckle, “All I ever see in you cupboards are coffee.” You wistfully sigh, “I need to go grocery shopping.”

The sound of you being so domestic-made Yoongi break into an ill-concealed smile as he settled onto the sofa, setting the oddly scary movie you chose up, “I can take you on Saturday.” You nodded when you finally found a bag of chips and sat next to the man of your affection with a cushion between the two of you.

You really couldn’t say what the movie was about, you had only seen it between the gaps in your fingers all while Yoongi watched it with a straight face. When it ended he said a short goodnight as always, except something in you, lurched out.

“Actually, I think I may go out after all.” You swore you followed your mouth’s lead as opposed to the opposite. You just said shit and had to go along with it. Fuck, you didn’t want to go out. You wanted to stay home and be scared that there was a ghost in the closet, but now you had to get ready and shit.

“Why?” Yoongi stopped, hand gripping his door handle much harder than usual.

You were taken aback by the question. It was valid, you supposed. But was it? How do you even answer that question? “Well, it’s been a while since I've… ya know…” You clicked your tongue, suddenly too shy to say,

“Had sex?” It was so blunt, and his eyes pierced through you and yet, you could feel your core tingle.

You were nothing but a sputtering mess, “W-W, I-I, Mr. Min-”

“Yoongi, y/n.” He spoke through gritted teeth as he stalked over to you. Despite the unconscious steps back you were taking, the couch brought you to an abrupt stop.

“R-Right, anyways, I-” You shut your mouth when Yoongi hovered over you with his presence alone.

“Say it,” He glared daggers into your form, “Say my name.” Before you could even open your mouth Yoongi groaned, slamming his hands on the couch on either side of you in frustration, “God, why do you want other people when I’m right fucking here?” Your mouth was agape at this, “I’m so sick of holding myself back.” He cursed, body pressing against yours.

“What do you mean? Other people?” You mustered and Yoongi let out a chuckle void of humor.

“I listened to your podcast about wanting to be with someone and getting romance and…” Yoongi seriously thought you had been referring to anyone but him? Him? Seriously? The hot man in the place you live? You couldn’t stifle your laugh which caused his rant to falter, “How is this a laughing matter I am-”

“So fucking dense.” You giggled, “I’ve wanted you to at least look my way for the past three years, and you seriously think I want to be with other people?!” You sighed, “I live with you for fuck’s sake, and you won’t touch me!” Now, you were letting your frustrations out, “I brush your hand, I touch thighs with you, I-I scare the shit out of myself hoping you’ll at least hold me!” You heaved a breath, “And all you do is stay still!” You let out a frustrated yell, “The most attention I got from you was when I was almost attacked, is that what I need to do to draw sap from a fucking rock?!”

Yoongi flared at this, “Don’t ever think about putting yourself in danger.” He pointed at you, “I couldn’t take it, and I can’t take you not being honest with me, I thought you never noticed-” He was being a hypocrite, but he didn’t care.

“How could you say I don’t notice you when you straight up forgot I existed until this year?!” Yoongi was the one dumbfounded this time, and you took your chance to push past him, “I will go out tonight because I deserve-”

You couldn’t even breathe the next syllable before your back hit Yoongi’s bedroom door, his hands pinning your wrists above your own, the man breathing heavy. The air was thick with frustration as he gave you a stern look, “You deserve the world, I know,” The anger in you began to dissipate at his sincerity in his words, “And I am so in love with you, that I don’t think I’m worthy of giving it to you,” Your breath hitched at this, “But I don’t care anymore, because I would sooner kill someone before they put their hands on you, I’m sure you know I mean business, Sunshine?” You nodded, every cell in your body springing to life as Yoongi drew his lips closer to you, “So?”

You blew out a shaky breath with an equally shaky smile, “L-Love me? I-"

"Say you love me, and I’ll do it.” He was more rushed this time, urgent almost, “I’ll stop holding back, and I will give you all that you deserve and so, so much more.” He was almost pleading.

What the fuck do you know about love? What does it look like? Sound like? Is it the way Yoongi smiles at your dumb jokes in the morning? Is it the way his voice sounds through the walls as he practices newly-written lyrics? He was a good man to you. He was an attractive man. He could give you the world, and all he wanted in return was your love. Could all of this be love? Could it be the way he’s made you feel the past couple of years, especially the last couple of months?

Well, why the hell wouldn’t it be?

“I love you, Yoongi.” You breathed against his lips and he didn’t miss a beat in closing the gap so not even air could come between the two of you.

Electrifying all over again, but so, so different. This wasn’t fear. This was lust lighting a fire within you that Yoongi only stoked further as his silky tongue tangled with yours in a flurry of repressed emotions and endless unspoken confessions. His mouth attached to your neck and you let out a moan, quickly going to cover your mouth.

He ripped your hand away almost instantly, “You’re rarely this shy when you’re in your room, why deny me your sounds now?” He growled against your ear and the pure sex in his voice only made you moan louder. He was the rain you had admired from afar, but now he was pressed against you, and holy shit, were you getting wet.

“Yoongi, I don’t know if I can wait, I want to cum so fucking ba-ah!” You yelped when his hand went to cup your sex under the long shirt you always wore. You were on your tippy-toes, too sensitive to press your full weight onto him.

“Such an innocent-looking girl with such a nasty mouth.” He squeezed you in his hand and watched in glory as your eyes rolled back, “Since you’re a fan, I’ll be nice.” He teased as he got onto his knees, dragging your panties down with him to the floor.

“Oh shit.” You let out a breath that was quickly stolen when his tongue pressed against your entry. He lifted your leg, placing it over his shoulder as his mouth lapped at your clit and you lost yourself in the feeling, moaning mindlessly.

“You taste like deliverance.” He mumbled against your pussy and this only made your eyes roll back at the eroticism in his words. You couldn’t even keep track of what he was doing anymore.

All you could do was feel. His tongue fucked you into oblivion as he held your hips still, determined to make you come with his mouth, and his mouth alone. He let out a lewd suck and you quivered at the sensation and action. He knew how to play you and please you that you did. His tongue entered you again and he let out a delicious moan which vibrated against your folds, “Fuck, you sound and feel so fucking good!” You cried out as his tongue made thick strokes against you that only sped up expertly as he moaned into you, “Can I cum, Yoongi?” You asked, a smart girl, he concluded. He smirked against you, full intention to deny your request until, “Please, my love, I want to cum in your mouth like a good girl.” You begged pathetically and he couldn’t refuse you. You had him wrapped around your finger and hardly knew it. He got to work quickly, tongue entering you again only to flick upwards and you groaned at this. Groans were quickly replaced by increased screaming as he stiffened his tongue and licked all around your sex. You began to scream his name like a mantra as you tighten around the muscle and came the hardest you ever had.

You slumped against the door, chest heaving, “You okay, baby?” The nickname from him elicited a tired smile. You looked down at the man, lips glossy as he licked them. He sat back on his calves and you wasted no time in diving at him on the floor.

Before he could react, you gripped him through his sweatpants and smiled when you realized he was rock hard, “Can I please ride you?” You looked up at him through your eyelashes and he knew he couldn’t possibly say no.

“Your wish is my command, sunshine.” He growled when you straddle him as he sat, legs spread and back against the back of the couch now. You gave a less than innocent smile as you reached for his member, delicate hands wrapping around him, only to pull it free and closer to your entrance, “Condom?” He questioned.

“Pill, I need to feel you, fuck.” You panted, against logical judgment, but it was lost when you pressed the head against your own entrance, “Shit.” You ground against Yoongi as his head lolled back.

He could hardly handle it as your hips twirled, the tip just outside your entrance. Finally, he had enough, and with strong hands pulled your hips to fill you to the hilt. Your mouth popped open in shock and pure masochistic delight as the pain only added to the high of lust Yoongi gave you, “Sorry, baby girl, I knew you would feel so fucking good.” He emphasized this with a thrust up, “Plus, I could hardly resist being deep inside you immediately.” He growled in sadistic pride as your face twisted in pain and pleasure.

“Hurts so good.” Your hips moved spastically, chasing another high with Yoongi deep inside you. Not once did you lift your hips. You wanted to stay full, and Yoongi was more than happy to oblige, “So good, I wanna stay like this.” You moaned out as he sucked on your neck, hands going under your shirt to grip your breasts with a fevor you craved.

“You feel like heaven.” He grunted against your neck as he littered it with hickey after hickey. You were his and the way you squeezed around him and clawed at his shoulder only spurred him further.

Yoongi could feel himself twitching inside you and this only made you gasp as you gleefully squeezed around him, “Yes, yes,” You sounded like a prayer to him, “Cum inside me, I need it.” You were nearly screaming as he began to thrust into you at a rapid pace.

“Yeah? You want me to paint those pretty walls white, hm?” He teased you despite the strain in his voice, “Fuck it right into that pretty pussy of yours, no mine.” He grabbed your hips, working your body for his own high, “This is my pussy, isn’t it?"

"Yes, it’s all yours, Yoongi!” You yelled and with that, he groaned as he came, ropes of cum that you could feel as his hips made good of his promise to fuck it into you. You milked him as you squeezed tighter before coming undone as you came with a scream that sounded like the next symphonic masterpiece to the fucked out man inside you.

You huffed a small chuckle against his neck as your curled your form around his, “So needy.” He teased as he went to remove himself inside of you only to be met with a squeeze from you that made him curse, “You’re gonna kill me, I swear.”

You giggled, “I like how you feel inside of me.” You shrugged before shivering at the empty feeling only to gasp when three fingers were shoved into you. You wiggled in glee, “Fuck.” Your breath hot against his neck.

"You just like to be full, huh baby?“ You nodded shyly, "You’re perfect.” He chuckled as he used his other hand to stroke your back.

—-

“Announcement time, my dear listeners” You spoke in the studio, trying not to sound like it was through gritted teeth. You counted your blessings that you were alone, “As you know, your dear old Sugar Sun has promised a face reveal and I-Min Yoongi!” Well, mostly alone. You heaved a breath as you came against his mouth for the third time.

The man between your legs looked up at you, eyes way too innocent, “What? I’m waiting for my part.” He spoke nonchalantly despite the wetness on his lips.

“I’ll never get there if you keep making me cum and start over.” You glared and the man shrugged, “I got far enough, right, babe?” You pouted and watched his resolve crack, “Honeypie?” You pleaded and he faltered, “Love of my life?” He grumbled as he sat up next to you in front of the mic.

“Fine, go ahead.” He licked his lips.

“…and I decided to go a step further.” You smiled as the man next to you held your hand, “I will be doing a photoshoot to reveal my face and my collab partner to an upcoming song and my boyfriend…”

You looked to him, eyes twinkling, “That would be my cue.” He placed a quiet kiss on your head, “My name is Min Yoongi or Agust D as some of you may know, and I look forward to my career and life with this little piece of sunshine.” You giggled at this.

“So cheesy.” You gave him a bright smile nonetheless, “Crazy news, I know, but I secured the fucking bag, my dear listeners, he’s never getting rid of me."

You were joking for the most part, but you didn’t know how right you were. You would not be away from him any longer. You were his sunshine, his little songbird, and his world all at the same time. He needed you like he needed to breathe. Now, you were his. You were his sunshine despite the rain he embodied. The rainbow between the two of you was too intoxicating to even bear the idea of giving it up. Even for a fraction of second. You were his. Every moment, minute, second, everything would be together. He was yours now and forever just as you were his. Blissfully and eternally in love.

"I’m too crazy to let go now.” You laughed as he kissed your temple affectionately.

So was he.

Buy me a ko-fi (it would make my day)

Masterlist

#yandere bts #yandere yoongi #bts fanfic #bts smut #yoongi smut #bts oneshot #bts yandere au #yandere bts smut #bts #bts fluff #yoongi fluff #min yoongi

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

Text

Dazed and Confused (Part 6)

Summary: Dean Winchester grew up wanting to be a cop. When he gets kicked out of the police academy on a fluke though, he turns to a life of crime. After breaking up with Dean and seeing him committing a crime in the act, the reader becomes an officer herself and eventually a detective. Four years after that day, the reader is sent undercover to figure out what Dean is up to. Only she has no idea how far Dean is willing to go to keep her from finding out the truth…

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 3,100ish

Warnings: language, scary situations, violence, murder, etc.

A/N: This series has been on Ao3 only for awhile now and I am finally reposting here as well. It’s not new but it may be new to you. Please enjoy!...

______

You figured telling the boys about Mary, going through the files on her murder, on Jack’s father, on the fake distress call, all of that would be the worst part about telling them their father killed their mother.

It was nothing compared to the silence when you finished speaking. Sam, the tallest, biggest guy you’d ever met, a strong man that could handle anyone and anything if it came down to it...he was as white as a ghost, staring at the table, scrunching up his face in a million different combinations.

“He wants to kill me,” breathed out Sam, Dean’s hardset jaw relaxing when he saw Sam looking to his right, scared puppy dog eyes that belonged on a little kid on full display. “Wh-What’d I do wrong? Why’s he...Dean, what’d I do? Why…”

“Shh, Sammy,” said Dean, grabbing Sam and pulling him into his chest, running his hand up and down his back. “You’re alright. I won’t let anybody hurt you.”

“You were right. Mom...it was my fault,” mumbled Sam, Dean grimacing and dropping his head on Sam’s shoulder, holding onto his little brother tight.

“No Sammy. None of that was your fault. Mom was not your fault,” said Dean, shushing Sam. “I’m so sorry I ever said that to you. I didn’t mean it. One of the worst days of my life was saying that...but it’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna protect you, Sammy. I’m not going to let him…”

Dean scrunched up his face, burying his head in Sam’s shoulder as you turned and left, giving them their space to get things out without your prying eyes around.

“Hey,” said Dean, poking you on the shoulder from where you were half asleep on the ground outside. “Time for you to go home and get some shut eye.”

“Are you guys okay?” you asked, Sam walking through the doorway with a yawn. He shared a look with Dean, both boys smirking. “Stupid question.”

“We’re...us two are going to be okay,” said Sam, patting Dean’s back. “The dad stuff might take some time.”

“Y/N...Sam needs to stay here with me,” said Dean, glancing at Sam’s car. “We need you to take Sam’s car back to his apartment and make your way home from there. Unseen preferably.”

“You think John’s going to...go after Sam again,” you said, Sam looking anywhere but at you, Dean nodding.

“Sammy doesn’t have field experience or training. I’m going to spend the day showing him a few things after we crash for a few hours but-”

“He needs you. I get it,” you said with a smile as you stood up. “I’m a big girl, boys. I can handle myself.”

“I know. I also know you need to be extremely careful. We don’t know if you’re a target. But we can’t go and investigate, not with dad around,” said Dean.

“I’ll find something on him,” you said. “I’ll get it.”

“We never...Sam and I and Jack...we never found anything,” said Dean.

“Sam, your house key to your dad’s place is on your car keys, right?” you asked. Both boys shook their heads. “I’m investigating this now. I have to do the footwork for us. I’m going in that house.”

“If dad got a hold of you…” said Dean.

“This ain’t my first rodeo,” you said.

“We can’t risk you, Y/N. We should all get some sleep for a few hours and then meet back up at eleven to go over a game plan, alright? We’ll trash the signs out front and crash in the breakroom until Y/N swings back later,” said Sam.

“I like that plan much better,” said Dean, Sam tossing you his car keys.

“Okay,” you said with a sigh. “Get some rest boys. I’ll bring lunch by for you.”

It’d been about seven months since you were last in the Winchester home, John hosting some kind of work dinner thing that made you question in the morning why people drank Tequila in the first place. You slipped in through the front door like you belonged, the Winchesters thankfully not ones for having nosy neighbors. The place looked the same as when you’d last been there but something was missing in the home.

It was cold. The air was cool but just the space itself felt off, not that the Winchester home was ever particularly inviting. You remembered the first time Dean invited you over it was the same way. It was your winter break of Freshman year. Dean had finally gotten up the guts to ask you out after nearly a whole semester of this weird undercurrent between you two. You met at orientation and became such natural friends it was only a matter of time before one of you couldn’t stand the constant butterflies.

You’d been dating a few weeks and Dean invited you to come up for dinner, spend the weekend with him and his little brother before you drove back to school together. It seemed like a great idea at the time. The image of a tiny Sam Winchester opening the door still made you laugh, back when you were the same height and he had a little grin on his face.

“You must be Dean’s girlfriend,” he said, opening the door with a smirk. “I can take your coat.”

“Ah, so you’re a polite little shit, Sam,” you said back, Sam’s eyes widening a moment before he looked away shyly. “Dean’s a polite big shit. Runs in the family. I’m Y/N.”

“Dean’s at the grocery store,” said Sam, taking your coat and setting your bag down by the base of the stairs. “Our dad had to work.”

“That’s okay,” you said with a smile, picking up your boots when you were finished getting them off, Sam showing you where to put them. “You been having fun having Dean back home?”

“Yeah, I miss him,” said Sam, whipping his head around. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

“As long as you don’t tell him I told you he misses you too,” you said, Sam cocking his head. “Our secret.”

“He does?” asked Sam, picking up your bag, carrying it up the stairs with you on his tail.

“Duh. He talks about you all the time,” you said, poking your head in the bedroom Sam entered, finding it much tidier and clean than you were used to seeing in Dean’s dorm. “You should come visit us at school sometime. I know Dean would love it.”

“Yeah, maybe we can do that,” he said, perking up.

“Sammy!” you heard Dean shout from downstairs, Sam taking off and out of sight before you even got to the landing. “Where’s Y/N?”

“Back here,” you said with a wave, Dean smirking as you walked into the kitchen. “Sam’s been a very gracious host.”

“I knew he would be,” said Dean, bending down and kissing you, biting his bottom lip when he turned away. “Drive up safe?”

“Yup. I’m starving though,” you said, Sam pulling out a pot of the cabinet. “Woah, I’m not that starving, Sam.”

“Dad’ll get off shift soon. We’ll have dinner done by the time he’s home,” said Dean, ripping open a package of chicken. “Sammy you doing the green beans?”

“Unless you want to,” said Sam, filling up the pot with water.

“That’s really sweet, you two cooking dinner for you dad,” you said, helping put away the other groceries as best you could.

“Yeah,” said Dean with a smile. “Sammy I got the beans. You show Y/N how to help set the table up for me.”

Only now could you see that it wasn’t sweet. The prim and proper was all too perfect. Dean had kept you and Sam out of the house as much as possible that weekend and he started inviting Sam up to college with you. Once you moved in together, Sam started staying for weeks at a time and then the whole summer. It was too obvious now that those boys didn’t like being in that house, even if they never said anything.

You went straight up the stairs, catching a clock that it was the middle of the morning shift, giving you at least an hour before you had to leave in case John came home for lunch. You went down to the master bedroom but stopped and spun around, going back to Dean’s bedroom. If he wanted to pin anything on Dean, it’d likely be in there.

But it was Dean’s room. You’d helped him pack up the space years ago, knew there wasn’t a spot in there Dean wouldn’t have seen at some point or knew about.

You knelt down on the ground and shined your flashlight through the heat vent, nothing but dust and cobwebs in there. You opened up the empty closet, popping open the attic crawl space at the top, nothing up there either but a bit of installation.

“John where would you hide implicating evidence…” you said, eyes darting around the room, cocking your head. “Better question, where would a scared 15 year old hide implicating evidence…”

You glanced at Dean’s bed, staring at the bedframe. You ducked your head underneath, shining your flashlight at the supports, the head and foot boards.

A door opened downstairs and slammed shut, a sigh in the air. You pulled your legs and body under the bed, clicking off your flashlight in one quick motion as you held your breath.

“Stupid fucking coffee spills,” muttered John in the hall, his footsteps going past the open door. You heard him fumble about in the master bedroom, stopping in the hallway a minute later. You swallowed, watching his feet turn in the direction of Dean’s room.

You tried to keep your breathing even when he stepped inside, throwing a hand over your mouth when he headed for the bed.

And he sat down.

And then laid down.

You were so fucked.

After five minutes, you decided either John knew you were there or he’d fallen asleep. After twenty, you were pretty sure he was out cold, for some reason deciding that was a good place for a nap in the middle of his work day.

His phone rang out of the blue, John grunting awake as he answered.

“What?...Bobby...Jack’s a good cop, just work with him...sure, he’s bubbly like a fresh puppy but Y/N is taking a leave of absence...because she nearly died a few days ago Bobby that’s why...she’s tough...the Dean thing might have messed her up and I own that...I want her to take some time off and get her head on straight...yeah...mhm...I’ll be back soon,” said John, sighing as he hung up the phone. “Jackass.”

John swung his legs over the edge of the bed, dropping to his knees, back to you. You stared wide eyed as he leaned down, staring under the dresser, reaching a hand under the small gap there.

“Come on you piece of shit,” said John, reaching his hand around, pulling back with an oof, a padded envelope with frayed duct tape on the ends in his hands. He held it with both hands, peeling open the top part, enough for you to see there was something of substance in it with the way it bulged, definitely the size and shape of a knife.

All he had to do though was lean his head down another inch and glance right. If it was a knife, you weren’t sure you’d be able to get your gun out in that position before he used it on you.

John sat back on his heels and flapped the tape back down, standing with the envelope, the front door slamming shut a minute later.

You were out the back door and two streets over before you stopped shaking.

“Y/N,” said Sam when you came by the metal factory at lunchtime, lips pursed at the sight of you. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I got to tell you guys something.”

“Never do that again,” said Dean, finding you in the break room on a couch, hands in your lap. “Understand?”

“Your dad’s got the knife. It had to be the knife,” you said. “Maybe he’s going to dump it.”

“Or plant it,” said Dean as he sat beside you. “Don’t ignore me. I want you to promise you’ll never go into something on your own like that again. Especially considering you said you wouldn’t.”

“I’m not a kid,” you said.

“I can’t see something bad happen to you,” said Dean, resting his hand on your thigh. “Okay? Us...and Jack...we’re a team so we got to decide these things together so we don’t get hurt.”

“Okay,” you said.

“Sammy and I were thinking this place might not be the best cover for us. It’s too big. There’s plenty of old farmhouses around no one can sneak up on,” said Dean. “Might be better.”

“Just find a safe-” you said, your phone ringing. “It’s your dad.”

“Just act normal,” said Dean, nodding before you answered.

“Hi John,” you said, trying to keep your voice light.

“Hey kid. I uh, I know last time we talked it was a bit heated and then the overdose and everything...I swung by your apartment to check on you but you weren’t home. I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said.

“Yeah, John I’m good. I went for a drive, get some fresh air is all,” you said.

“You want to grab lunch? I’m paying,” he said. You glanced at Dean who reluctantly nodded his head.

“Sure. I can meet you at Ernie’s at noon if that sounds good with you,” you said.

“Yeah. I’ll see you soon kid,” said John. You hung up, Dean rubbing the back of his neck.

“Be careful,” said Dean.

“I know,” you said, kissing him on the cheek as you stood up, Dean staring up curiously. “Text me when you guys got a new hideout.”

“Y/N,” said John with a smile as you sat down at the booth he was in. “How you doing?”

“Better. Still a bit groggy from everything,” you said, John smiling.

“If...if you took the drugs yourself...that’s okay, kid. I’m not mad. I won’t turn you in,” said John. “I know I sent you out in the field and Dean attacked you and...I’m sorry. If he’s bad, he’s bad and even if he’s my son, I’ll put him away for everything he’s done.”

“I didn’t take the drugs, John,” you said, John looking you over, looking for signs you lying. “I’m telling the truth.”

“You don’t think...Dean could have…” said John, your face scrunching up. “You never know, Y/N.”

“I don’t know who did it,” you said, John nodding his head, seemingly satisfied for now. “I need some time off still to-”

“No, no, take all the time in the world. I know why you got into this job in the first place,” he said. “If you want out...I won’t make you stay.”

“Give me some time,” you said, John doing a damn good job of making you question all the pieces that fit together so well for being Mary’s killer. You forced yourself to remember that morning, taking a deep breath. “How’s Bobby treating Jack?”

“Oh, now that is a whole other story,” said John with a laugh. “So he called me this morning…”

“Y/N,” said Dean, a hand on your back as you ducked into the simple two story home the boys were squatting in. “How’d lunch go?”

“Good,” you said. “Jack meeting up with us tonight?”

“He texted and said he’d be here fifteen minutes ago,” said Dean, peeking his head outside.

“He’s not from around here, probably taking back roads so he isn’t seen,” you said, looking out at the dark road in front of the house.

Three hours later, Dean was ready to send out a search party.

“Relax,” you said, Sam sighing as he flipped shut a notebook. “Worrying won’t help.”

“Something’s wrong,” said Sam, tapping his fingers on the table. “That kid is never late.”

“I know. But-” you said, your phone ringing. “John, what’s-”

“Someone attacked Jack. He’s in ICU. I know you’re on your leave but I need you to come in kid,” said John.

“I’ll be at the hospital as soon as I can,” you said, Dean and Sam’s faces dropping. “How bad is he?”

“They aren’t sure he’ll make it. He was stabbed several times,” said John. “The weapon wasn’t at the scene so we’re still looking for it.”

“I’m coming as soon as I can,” you said, hanging up the phone. “Jack’s in bad shape. Touch and go from the sounds of it.”

“What happened?” asked Dean.

“A stabbing,” you said, Dean shaking his head. “I have to go. Jack’s my friend.”

“He has to know, dad has to know that Jack is investigating him,” said Dean.

“I’m the only one that isn’t FBI, the only one that isn’t officially on this thing. I have to try and get any information I can out of Jack,” you said.

“Sam, go with Y/N,” said Dean. “You can stay with Jack at the hospital and keep an eye on him if they’ll let you.”

“I thought Sam needed to stay here with you,” you said.

“He’s my big brother, not my keeper,” said Sam, grabbing his coat. “Let’s go.”

“You two…” said Dean, glancing back and forth. “Nobody get killed alright?”

“We’ll try our best not to.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 7 here!

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #au #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #series

69 notes · View notes

bobgasm · 4 years

Text

hush | c.b

pairing: chris beck x reader word count: 4461 warnings: tooth rotting fluff,

prompt: librarian!au | college!au

summary: in which the good guy gets the girl

author’s note: repost

oneshot | masterlist

If there was one thing she needed tonight, more than anything, was for the floor of her dorm not to host a party. Yet, as she shoved her earbuds into her ears, she’s already packing her books and laptop into a backpack. The earbuds do nothing to hide the fact that Ruby and her latest beau were going at it in the room next door, even with the music at a deafening volume. The bed squeaking obnoxiously and the frame connecting with the wall.

Y/N makes sure she’s got her key and purse before she leaves, locking the door to make sure no one goes inside. It’s happened before and things have gone missing. At least her roommate has finished her exams and gone home for break, which means no one will accidentally leave the door unlocked.

Y/N nipped into the pizzeria on her walk to the library, tucking her earbuds into the pocket of her jacket as she ordered a large pepperoni. Only needing to wait ten minutes before it was ready and she was carrying it into the library.

You weren’t supposed to have food in the library, but the librarian on Tuesdays was more lenient than the one on Wednesdays or Fridays. He didn’t mind if you ate, so long as you kept your area clean and didn’t use the library’s computers while you were eating. The same went for the books. Always keep them clean.

The only reason she needed the library tonight was because of how quiet it was compared to her dorm currently. She had one final exam to study for, which wasn’t for another two days, but she didn’t want to be cramming the night before. She wanted to go to bed feeling well rested and prepared. But knowing her, she’d be cramming, stressed she wasn’t going to pass.

As Y/N entered the library her gaze turned towards the librarian’s desk. He barely looked up from his astronomy textbook as she took a seat at a large group of desks. Setting the box on the table as she unloaded her laptop and books from her bag.

Y/N looked towards him, the librarian, as he scanned a few books for a customer. Making small talk as he entered the card number in the system.

He always looked so soft, wearing a slightly larger grey hoodie with a NASA symbol on the breast, his hair usually a mess from running his hands through it constantly. Circles under his eyes making him look perpetually exhausted, which wasn’t a shock to any college kid. Sleep was scarce around exam season. Hell, it was scarce any season. Y/N should know, the bags under her eyes were constant.

The second she opened the box of pizza she’d caught the librarian’s attention. He was in her space science class, but she’d never learnt his name. He kept mostly to himself, except for when he dominated their professors questions, whereas almost every one else struggled. He was effortlessly smart, and she’d admired him from afar for the longest time. Noticing how some days he’d come to class wide awake and alert, but more often than not, he looked as exhausted as the rest of them.

His fascination with space was incomparable to anyone Y/N had ever met. His vast knowledge of the cosmos was intriguing. Endearing. It made no sense to her that she never saw him with anyone around campus, no bros, no girls. It was always just him, with his nose buried in a new space book each time.

Y/N typed with one hand as she ate, her eyes skimming her books for anything that she knew she needed to elaborate on with a further explanation. Her hand grew tired of typing quickly and she sighed, wiggling her fingers and taking a break from staring at the screen of her laptop. The bright white occasionally hurting her eyes, this time no different.

She yawned as she shut the pizza box, unable to finish the last few slices. Casting her gaze towards the librarian who’d gotten up from his desk and wandered towards a section of books, placing the ones from his arms back into their rightful places.

Y/N looked at the clock hanging on the wall and groaned, it was almost eleven, which was when the library closed. She rubbed my hands over my face to wake herself up a bit and started packing her things back into her bag. She hadn’t thought it was that late when she’d first arrived, but clearly time had gotten away from her. Taking one too many ‘breaks’ to admire the cute librarian as he spoke in a hushed whisper to himself.

Scribbling out a little note on a scrap of paper before placing the half eaten pizza on his desk, the note sitting atop it. Telling him he could’ve asked her earlier for a slice if he was as hungry as he looked, and leaving her name and number on the off chance he wanted to use it some time.

+++

After Y/N left the library she had turned her phone off, too scared to learn whether or not he’d sent her a message at all. She had a sudden burst in confidence, yet couldn’t even handle learning the truth; if he was interested in her or not. No matter how hard a pill rejection is to swallow, no one wanted to learn that the person they’re interested in doesn’t share those same feelings. It’s hard.

At least that’s what Y/N kept telling herself.

The day of her exam she turned her phone back on to see if he’d sent anything. Clearing the notifications from a couple of apps, her breath catching in her throat when she realised there was a missed call from an unsaved number and a voicemail that’d been left. She checked the voicemail first, holding her phone to my ear.

“Uhh, hey, Y/N. It’s Chris, uhh, the librarian you left your pizza for. I’m just, thank you so much, honesty, I’ve been studying my ass off for finals and keep forgetting to eat. So thank you. You didn’t have to, but I’m glad you did.”

Y/N smiled at the recorded message, finding Chris’ rambling adorable. And his voice, god, his voice was like heaven. She never wanted the rambling to stop.

“I’m c-calling from the library’s phone because, well, long story short, I-I dropped mine in a puddle and someone d-drove over it. And I don’t know w-why I told you that! It’s not relevant, shit. I’m s-sorry. Um, I was just k-kinda hoping that m-maybe, on the off chance that you d-don’t already have plans this F-Friday, if you’d like to j-join me for dinner? I, uhh,–” he couched to clear his throat, a nervous laugh sounded in the earpiece. “I’ll be at t-the library all day T-Thursday if you wanna g-give m...”

The dial tone sounded, letting her know that the message had been cut short since he’d exceeded the time limit. But luckily he’d left another message which started off with a small nervous laugh.

“I’m s-sorry, the last message was s-supposed to say I’ll be a-at the l-library all day Thursday if you w-want to give me a c-call or s-stop by. I m-mean, if y-you don’t that’s...l’life, I guess. I m-mean, I h-hope you do, b-but no p-pressure. I – J-Jesus, you’re r-really nailing this w-whole thing, B-Beck. Real s-smooth. If I s-see you, I see you, a-and if I-I don’t, w-well, I’m sorry for w-wasting your t-time. Good n-night, Y/N. T-Thank you again for t-the pizza.”

She saved the messages to her phone, unable to bring myself to delete them. Spending ten minutes replying to a few texts before grabbing everything she needed and heading to her exam, a plan in her head to catch up with Chris at the library afterwards.

+++

Y/N spent a total of two hours and thirty seven minutes in the exam, making sure she’d answered everything to the best of my ability before handing my paper in and making her trek across campus to the library. SHe was nervous, to say the least. Her hands sweaty as she gripped the straps of her backpack. Blowing out a shaky breath as the building came into her line of sight.

Campus was dead. There were only two more days of exams and then it was Christmas/New Year break. A few lights were strung up around the courtyard as she walked down the alley between two buildings. The library was one of the only places still open, housing a few students sipping coffees from the shop next door as they tried their hardest to absorb any information they needed to prepare themselves for their exam.

It was weird feeling like she’d done well in my exam. Like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders the second she passed through those doors. But it could have also been because she was going to see Chris at the library and confirm their date for tomorrow night.

Y/N was excited. Exams were over and she potentially had a date with the guy she’d been crushing on for months. And it was Christmas in a little under a week. Even though she wasn’t going home for the holiday there were a bunch of students in the dorms staying back and were planning their own Christmas shindig. They had a tree put up and decorated on the 8th floor. Y/N was making one of her favourite desserts.

Hannah, on the third floor, had a friend who’d been buying them alcohol to stock up on since the shops would all be closed and the majority of our plans consisted of drinking. Once they’d opened presents, of course. They’re not totally uncivilised.

Y/N unwrapped her scarf from her neck as she entered the library, automatically engulfed by a wall of warmth. She walked towards Chris at his desk. He was currently serving a customer but looked towards her when he noticed someone was standing to the side. A grin forming on his lips as he went back to serving the customer.

She didn’t mind waiting. Watching him bumble around, stammering over his words as he kept sneaking a look in her direction. The guy walked off with his books, leaving the pair alone to talk.

“H-hey. Uhh, hey,” Chris greeted nervously, walking out from behind the desk. Rubbing the back of his neck as he walked towards her.

“Hi,” she replied, breathing out a smile. “I guess I should properly introduce myself, huh? I’m Y/N.”

Y/N held her hand towards him and he smiled down at it as he grasped it with his own. “I’m Chris.” He looked up at her with the most mesmerising smile, his blue/grey eyes catching the light from above.

“So, tomorrow night…”

“I was h-hoping I could c-cook for you,” he said, rubbing his arm. “I’m a p-pretty good cook, and I-I’m kind of too b-broke to take you a-anywhere nice right n-now.”

Y/N laughed, appreciating his honesty. “A home cooked meal sounds lovely,” she assured him with a smile. “Did you want me to bring anything?”

He shook his head. “Just yourself.” He reached toward his desk for a pen and a piece of paper, quickly scribbling down his address before handing the paper to her. “Does s-six-thirty suit?”

“Perfect,” she replied, folding the paper and tucking it into her pocket for safe keeping. “I’ll see you tomorrow at six-thirty, Chris. Have a good night.”

“You too, Y/N,” he farewelled, cheeks tinged with warmth and a smile on his lips. “See-see ya tomorrow.”

She gave him a slightly awkward wave before turning around and leaving the library, taking a peek over her shoulder to look back at him. Still smiling after her. Raising his hand in a wave before she braved the cold weather outside. Wrapping her scarf around her neck and disappearing out the door.

+++

Y/N stood in the middle of the room dressed in only her underwear, hands on her hips as she looked at the selection of clothes laid out. A pair of jeans and a woollen jumper. A cute dress and some stockings, with a lovely warm coat. Her pyjamas.

A chill ran up her spine, making her reach for the jeans even though she desperately wanted to put her pj’s back on and go to bed. She wiggled the denim up her legs, doing a little hop, step and jump to bring the material over the curve of her ass. Huffing as she finally managed to pop the button through the hole and tug the zipper up. Grabbing a singlet to wear under a long sleeved shirt before putting a jumper on.

Her bed looked extremely inviting, piled with a thick duvet and deliciously soft, warm blankets. Still unmade from earlier today when she’d finally decided to crawl out of the warm nest and venture to Bobbie’s, since she’d agreed to buy her a nice bottle of wine for her date tonight.

She was nervous for her date with Chris, but was also extremely excited. It’d been awhile since she’d last been on a date, the last few having gone awry. But those guys weren’t awkward, stuttering Chris Beck. They were the over-confident, bordering on cocky assholes that assumed after a date she’d be willing to fuck them as a thank you. The first couple of dates had been average, as well as the sex, so eventually she just stopped going on dates.

She didn’t need a half-assed attempt at conversation when they both knew what direction the date was heading in, and more importantly, she didn’t deserve to be left high and dry after they came and left her to take care of herself. College guys are the worst. But she got the feeling that Chris wasn’t like that. Even though he planned on cooking her dinner at his place, it didn’t feel like an attempt to get her into his bed. she was excited to see how the shy, quiet guy treated a girl compared to the arrogant jerks she was used to seeing.

Y/N spent a small amount of time on her makeup, since she’d already applied it this morning. Just touching up a few areas here and there. Not wanting to overdo it, but still wanting to look nice.

She blew out a breath as she packed her makeup away and stuffed her feet into a pair of boots, sitting on the end of her bed as she laced them up. Taking a minute to gather er nerves as she looked at the alarm clock sitting on the bedside table, the glowing red numbers reading 18:04, letting her know she had less than half an hour to get to Chris’ place, and that her Uber should be here any minute.

Rising to her feet, Y/N shrugged into my jacket and tucked the bottle of wine into her purse. Her phone buzzing with a text from the Uber driver, letting her know he was outside, so hastily making her way down. Locking her dorm behind me.

The ride to Chris’ place took just over 20 minutes, Y/N’s leg bouncing with nerves the whole way. Rubbing her sweaty palms against her thighs. Thanking the driver as she climbed out of the car and walked up to the house, knocking on the door thrice.

She exhaled heavily, a smile coming easily to her face as soon as Chris opened the door. A bright smile on his own face.

“H-Hey, come in,” he greeted, stepping aside so she could come in out of the cold, already shrugging out of her coat.

“I know you said not to bring anything but I couldn’t show up empty handed,” Y/N said, hanging her coat up and pulling the wine from her purse, handing it over to him. “The finest wine eight dollars can buy.”

Chris chuckled as he closed the door. “Then l-let’s open it. S-Shall we?”

Y/N was already on her second glass when Chris finally served dinner, the delicious smell of a homemade roast chicken with all the fixings filling the little space.

The house itself was cozy. He lived with three other guys who were all home with their families for the holidays, but it was kept nice and tidy. She suspected because it was just him there at the moment.

They sat at the dining table to eat, a candle was lit between them, their glasses full of wine. A warmth to Chris’ cheeks from the alcohol, or from Y/N’s flirting. Perhaps both. Asking each other why they were still here instead of with their families. Her reason being that she couldn’t afford it, and his being that it was easier being apart for the holidays. Family is messy. That didn’t mean it was an easy decision for him to stay away. The hurt she saw on his face told her there was more to the story, but that he wasn’t ready to share it.

Dinner had been amazing, to the point that after they finished eating they stayed at the table drinking. Their faces lit up with the flickering light of the candle dancing over our skin.

He was beautiful. The way he spoke, wise beyond his years. Voice smooth, the alcohol ridding him of his stuttering, but slurring his speech. The corners of his eyes crinkling with each laugh, his hand covering his mouth as he giggled.

God, she was in deep, and it was only the first date.

+++

Y/N ended up inviting Chris to the halls for Christmas, telling him a bunch of them had plans to eat and drink and celebrate together because they couldn’t be with their families. He’d agreed to think about it, but when she’d swung by the library to see him on the 23rd he’d told her he’d be there.

It’d been a couple of Christmases that he’d spent the holiday alone, and now that an opportunity presented itself where he didn’t have to be, he’d be stupid not to go at least for a couple of hours. That was what he’d told her when she’d happily embraced him, anyway.

And now it was Christmas day and Y/N was waiting in the lobby of the building to let Chris in. He’d said he’d be there around ten, and it had just gone five past. She was starting to get a little fidgety when he knocked on the glass door. She stood up to open it for him, my mood changing from upset to happy upon seeing his face.

“S-Sorry I’m a little l-late,” he apologised, shrugging out of his jacket. “It’s i-icy and I k-kept s-slippin’ over.”

Y/N laughed and shook her head. “I’m sorry for laughing,” she replied. “I’m glad you made it here in one piece, though.”

“So am I.” He smiled.

“C’mon. The party’s already started.”

SHe took his hand in hers and led him towards the elevators, his gloved fingers slipping between her own as the doors opened and they stepped inside. She hit the button for the eighth floor and held her key to the sensor, and only then did the elevator work. Taking them up to the eighth.

“Thank-thank you for i-inviting me again,” he said softly.

“Thank you for agreeing to come,” she told him, smiling up at him and giving his hand a squeeze.

The party was in full swing when the elevator doors opened. They had to wait for a couple of guys racing on swivel chairs in the hallway to roll past before they could exit.

“You can chuck your stuff in my room to keep it safe if ya want,” I offered and he nodded, letting her drag him around the hallway until they reached her room. Using her keys to unlock the door and then pushing it open, letting him walk in first.

He sat his bag on the desk and hung his coat up on the rack, unwrapping his scarf from his neck. “I h-hope ya d-don’t mind,” he said as she leant against the doorframe. “B-But I bought u-us a b-bottle of that w-wine.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Y/N said as he handed the bottle to her, smiling at him as she grabbed two plastic glasses from her desk drawer and set them on the desk. Opening the bottle and pouring themselves a glass each. Ignoring the chaos out in the hallway, handing one of the glasses to him. “To the finest wine eight dollars can buy.”

His hand came up to cup her jaw, thumb brushing over her cheek lightly as he stared at er. Gaze flickering from her eyes to her lips and back to her eyes.

“And to n-not being alone on C-Christmas,” he added softly.

“And to not being alone on Christmas,” she repeated, clinking her glass with his and having a sip as he did the same.

“Can-can I…” he stuttered, looking back down at her lips as he shuffled closer.

“Kiss me, Chris,” she whispered.

He dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers, no trace of hesitation in his actions. Kissing her with certainty. Lips firm against her own at first, softening when she kissed him back almost instantly. Tasting like the wine they’d just drank.

Only detaching when Brooke waltzed in and announced it was time for presents. She was gone as soon as she arrived, moving onto the next room.

“I, uhh...” Chris downed his drink. “I’m not c-expectin’ anything in r-return, but I wanted to g-give you some-somethin’.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a tupperware container. “I m-made you some cookies. F-Family recipe. I-I hope you l-like ‘em.”

Y/N rose to her tiptoes and pressed another kiss to his lips as she graciously accepted the container from him. “Thank you, Chris,” she replied, smiling as she set the container and her wine on the desk. Opening one of her clothing drawers and pulling out a hoodie she’d seen at an op shop. “I haven’t seen you wearing this design so I wasn’t sure if you’ve got it or not.”

He took the hoodie from her and his eyes lit up when he unfolded it, a large grin spreading across his face. Reaching for the back of the current sweatshirt he was wearing and pulling it over his head so he could put it on.

“I wasn’t sure about the size…”

He shook his head after pulling it over his head, sliding his arms through it. Wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her off the ground, a laugh escaping her lips before he silenced her with a kiss.

“It’s great–it’s the greatest g-gift anyone has ever g-given me,” he confessed. “Thank you, Y/N. S-So much.”

Y/N laughed and shook her head. “You’re welcome,” she told him. “Merry Christmas, Chris.”

“M-Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he said back, the most joyous expression on his face.

“You wanna go and watch everyone else open presents or stay here and make out a little bit?” She asked him, her hands running through his hair.

Heat rose to his cheeks as he coughed. “Uhh, m-make out a little b-bit,” he replied honestly.

+++

With the holiday’s over and done with, a mistletoe kiss and a New Years Eve kiss crossed off her bucket list, college classes had officially started back up. Chris and Y/N had made things official before they welcomed in the New Year together, and they’d been on several dates since he first cooked her dinner.

She’d met his roommates, mostly because she spent a lot of her free time at his place. They seemed nice enough – typical guy behaviour trying to piss Chris off by hitting on her. Though he knew she only had eyes for him.

He’d met her roommate, who’d badgered him with question after question since she’d given her no warning that she now had a boyfriend. So she’d returned back from break to find him asleep in Y/N’s bed. No funny business had been happening. They’d just been sleeping after a long first day back of classes.

Her flight had been delayed time and time again, which was why she had no idea when she was coming back; because she didn’t know herself until she was boarding her flight.

It was fine. She was cool with it. And she was happy that Y/N’d finally met a guy who treated her the way she deserved.

Y/N was too. He was so good to her. And she always made sure to look after him, too. When he let her.

It was Tuesday today and he still had his shift at the library to complete before he’d go home. She knew he never took anything to eat with him – knowledge she’d gained from past experience, – so after making her own dinner, she took a container full of lasagne to the library for him.

It was still warm when she got there, sneaking up behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist, tucking myself under his arm.

“Hi-hi, beautiful,” he greeted with a soft chuckle. “I d-didn’t think I’d get t-to see you today.”

Y/N hummed as she leant up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Brought you dinner,” she told him. “Because I know you never bring anything to work.”

“Thank you,” he told her, kissing her forehead as he took the container from her hand. “Lasagne?”

Y/N hummed, producing a fork from her pocket and placing it on top of the container. “Yeah. I hope you enjoy.”

“Can’t stay?”

“Afraid not,” she replied. “Got a lot of reading to catch up on that I was supposed to do over the holiday but I got a little sidetracked.”

“It’s that b-boyfriend of yours, I t-tell ya,” he said, nuzzling his nose into her hair. “He’s a b-bad influence.”

Y/N laughed. Loud. “He’s lucky I love him.”

“He–you, what?”

“I love you.”

And she did. He was the kind of guy you knew from the moment you met him that you’d fall in love with him. All the blushing looks and nervous laughter, piled in with how much of a genuinely nice guy he was...it was a no brainer. She’d happily fallen in love with him.

“I-I love you, too-too. Shit, no. I can say this without stutt-stuttering.” He took a deep breath and steadied himself, cupping my face with both of his hands. Dinner all but forgotten about. “I love-lo, no. Wait-wait. I love you too.”

#chris beck #chris beck x reader #chris beck x you #chris beck fanfic #chris beck fanfiction #*hush

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lesbian-deadpool · 5 years

Text

Elevators And Earthquakes

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Modern AU

Words: 2,172

Warnings: None? Claustrophobia, maybe? Wanda and Pietro. That’s enough of a warning in itself.

Request: @barnesrogersvstheworld‘s challenge.

Summary: A lost job. A missed date. Two people trapped in one elevator. Let the fuckery ensue.

A/N: It’s late. And I only just finished it, and its early morning right now. And I haven't slept yet. So take that as you will. Also, it’s not proofread. So there’s probably some mistakes... meh.

(Not my GIF)

Remnants of frustration coursed through your body, as you banged on the button for the elevator to take you down.

The metal doors opened. Allowing you to step in.

Just as the doors were slowly closing, an arm shot out to stop them. A red-haired woman, who you've never seen in your life, stepped in. She wore a presumably expensive black dress. She looked like she had just stepped out of a modelling shoot. The cheesy pick-up line 'what's a pretty girl like you, doing in a place like this?' ran through your mind. Causing a smile to tug at your lips, because if this wasn't the most accurate representation of that line. Nothing was. She must have thought you were a complete weirdo smiling at nothing. But you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

Your arms were crossed as the elevator steadily travelled down.

Silence consumed you. Neither of you bothering to glance at the other again. Expecting to part ways, never to see the other again. Only to be remembered by the other as that attractive stranger you once shared an elevator with.

That is until the elevator started to shake. The fluorescent lights embedded into the walls and ceiling flickering madly.

Your arm flew out to grab the railing, the red-head woman doing the same. Pulling herself close to the wall, with both hands, so that she wouldn't fall over in her heels.

The shaking elevator slowed to a stop, the lights no longer plunging you in and out of darkness.

Turning to the woman, you asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she nodded, pulling the skirt of her dress down a little, as to straighten it out, "Are you?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are we still moving?"

"I don't think so," you said, moving to the keypad. Pressing the button to the ground floor, glancing up at the black window above the door, expecting to see the red dots indicating its destination. Instead, you saw nothing. Randomly pressing buttons to floors without looking at them, eyes locked onto the black window. Still, nothing happened.

Looking back down to the keypad, you pushed the emergency button at the same time the lights went out, leaving you trapped in darkness.

"You're not claustrophobic, are you?" you asked, turning to the vague direction of the red-head.

"I could be now."

You gave a small chuckle at her words while pulling your phone from your pocket, tapping on your "best friends" contact.

Not even one ring in and he answered. It was things like this, that gave you the reason to have his contact listed as 'speedy' on your phone.

"Did you feel that?!" Pietro asked you.

A bright light shining at the corner of your eye. Looking over, you saw the un-named woman scrolling through her own phone. The light shining on her red hair, and soft skin, giving her an almost heavenly glow.

"Yes, of course, I felt that. How did you know the elevator broke down?"

"Wait. Elevator? No, I meant the earthquake."

"There was an earthquake?!"

"Yeah, and a pretty big one at that. Wait. Hold on a sec. Are you trapped in an elevator?"

"Yeah," you confirmed, almost bashfully.

Pietro's loud laughter could be heard from the phone, the woman raising her hand, and cocking an eyebrow at the noise even she could hear. You gave her a tightlipped smile.

"What's so funny?" You heard Wanda's echoed question in the background, indicating she had just entered the room her brother was in.

"Y/N's stuck in an elevator," Pietro laughed.

"Hey, shut up!"

"Why is she stuck in an elevator?" Wanda asked, he voice clearer now. Pietro must have put the phone on speaker so she could hear you.

"Well, I can't really control that, now can I, Wanda?"

Practically feeling the eye roll she gave you, Pietro continued to ask, "Are you alone?"

"No."

"Oh my, God. Who are you with?" Pietro asked, excited at the prospect of gossip.

"I don't know. Just a woman." You smiled at her again, so that you wouldn't seem like a total asshole.

"Ooo, is she pretty?" Pietro cooed.

"Piet," Wanda scolded her brother, before continuing to ask you, "Is she though?"

Looking back to the woman next to you, to evaluate her appearance, even though you didn't need too. You turned away from her again, watching the wall intently.

"Yes."

"How pretty?"

"Y'know, Wanda, sometimes you're just as bad as your brother."

An offended gasp sounded from her, as Pietro laughed at her, pausing, then turning back to the phone.

"Hey, wait. What's that supposed to mean?!"

"Nothing. Just get me the hell out of here."

"What's wrong? Don't want to be around the pretty lady? Afraid you'll embarrass yourself?" Pietro teased.

"Pietro," your voice was stern, like 'a-mother-taking-to-their-child-when-they've-been-bad' level stern. Wanda laughing in the background told you clearly that Pietro was scared out of his mind.

"Now children. Be good while I'm away. No parties. No boys or girls- For either of you. Get me the fuck out of here. Wanda, you're in charge," you listed off.

"Hey, why is she in charge? I'm older than her!"

Before you could hear any of their bickerings, you hung up. Turning to the red-head, you asked, "Do you have anyone you can call? Because even though they're my friends, and I love them. I don't really trust them to get me out of here."

She chuckled, "Sure."

Turning on the torch app, you balanced your phone on the handrail, so there was at least a little light, as the woman began talking to someone.

"Steve, hi," she said, "No, I don't need a rescue from my date. I'm not even on it." She paused as this 'Steve' spoke. "No. I'm trapped in an elevator."

Deciding against leaving your phone on the elevator's hand railing, instead of standing there twiddling your thumbs, and watching a stranger like a creep. You picked up your phone and began searching through news articles.

Brooklyn Blacked Out.

Fallen Telephone Wires Caused By Earthquake.

Brooklyn Earthquake: Everything We Know.

Tony Stark To Host Oscars.

Well, that's enough of that.

For the next five-or-so minutes, as the red-head explained the situation to her friend, Steve. You had scrolled through Twitter. Trying to get more information that the news was able to give you.

"Okay, Steve. Yeah, whoever you can call to get us out of this thing... okay, thanks... bye, Steve."

"He gonna get us out of here?" you asked.

"He's going to try," she sighed out, "Any updates?"

"None. Unless you count someones grandma not being able to cook dinner, and someone missing a TV programme."

"I do not," she chuckled, "Natasha."

"What?"

"My name. It's, Natasha," she clarified, offering her hand.

"Y/N," you replied, shaking her outstretched hand, "So, Natasha. It seems we're going to be stuck here for a little while."

"No. No. No. That is not possible!"

"It so is."

"How?!" Natasha asked flabbergasted, at the story you told.

"I don't know, He just manages to do this shit- His sister's no better," you replied from your spot across from Natasha on the floor of the elevator. It had been a little over an hour since Natasha had ended her call with Steve. Who you learned was her best friend, who had set her up on a blind date.

It surprised you how Natasha was so determined to sit on the dirty elevator floor, in her expensive dress. Because, and I quote, "If we're gonna be trapped in her for over twenty minutes, I am not standing in these heels". The spoken heels now sat next to her.

"You said she egged her brother, as he ran naked in the park?" she asked, getting a nod from you, "Then I don't doubt that for a second."

You burst out laughing at that, she didn't know the half of it.

"Yeah, college was a fun time. You should meet them sometime."

"Oh, I would love that," Natasha smiled, "That way, they can tell me all the weird, and embarrassing things you have done."

You paused thinking of your reply, staring at the floor between the two of you, before your eyes connected with hers, "You are never meeting them."

Her laughter turned into a comfortable silence, until Natasha asked, "So, what happened after?"

"What?"

"What happened after Pietro stole the mannequin?"

"Ohh," you drew out, being reminded of the story you currently told, "He ran back to his dorm room with it and kept it there. He still has it."

"No way!"

"Yeah, it's in his and Wanda's hallway, they use it as a key holder, it's dressed in a tuxedo, holding a bowl for you to throw your keys in," you told, cupping your hands together, to replay the image in your mind, "It's creepy as fuck."

"I can see how it would be," Natasha agreed, "But what about the police? You said they were chasing him. Did they find him?"

"No," you scoffed, mixed with a laugh, "I just don't think they cared. Must have thought it was funny more than anything."

"Makes sense," Natasha shrugged. Just then her phone started to ring. Smiling she picked it up.

"Hey, Steve... yeah, we're still in here."

"Save us!" You called so Steve would hear you.

"Oh, that's just, Y/N." Natasha hummed at Steve's question, before she answered, "Yeah, the person I'm trapped with. She's pretty cool."

"Aw, thanks, Nat," you smiled, causing Natasha to playfully glare at you.

"Yeah Steve, I'm still here... Oh, thanks, Steve. But I'm fine thanks... okay, bye."

"What's up?" you asked, nodding your head once in question.

"Steve was just checking up on me, making sure I hadn't died."

"Aw, how... sweet?"

"Yeah, he's nice like that. He's taken time out of his date with his boyfriend, just to make sure I was still kicking," Natasha joked.

"Notice how my friends haven't called?"

Natasha burst out laughing at this, leaning over her legs. Soon you were joining in with her.

"I'm sure they care," Natasha wheezed.

"Yeah. Knowing them, they've probably just got distracted."

A few quiet moments passed before you decided to speak again, "I'm sorry you missed your date," you told her sincerely.

"Ah." Natasha waved you off. "I've had more fun with you than I would have if I went on that date."

"Well, I'm flattered," you thanked, bringing your hands up to your chest.

Natasha smiled at you, and your antics. "I'm sorry about your job."

"You win some you lose some," you shrugged, "No big deal... I just have to go through the hassle of finding another job."

Natasha hummed, her eyes heavy, as she began making her way over to you.

"What are you doing?"

"Sitting next to you," she replied. Which she indeed was now sat next to you. Her arm rubbing up against yours, her head laying on your shoulder. "I'm tired."

"It's half-past nine?" You flopped your arm out as if that would prove your conclusion.

"So?"

"You're really going to-"

Right at that moment, the lights began to flicker on. Before they switched on entirely. The elevator moving once again.

You and Natasha both raised your arms, screaming out in victory.

"Fucking finally!"

Both of you practically ran out into the lit street, once the doors opened. Relishing in the cool night air.

"So," you said after a few moments, "I guess this is goodbye, Natasha."

"I hope not," she replied.

Natasha began walking towards you, rustling through her handbag, pulling out a business card and a pen. Scribbling something on the back of it, before flipping it back over, handing it to you.

"Steve's boyfriend," Natasha said, pointing to the card in your hand, causing you to glance down, catching the name 'Tony Stark'. Your eyes snapped back up to hers, as she continued, "Call the number, tell him you know me. And he'll give you a job right away. Title depending on your qualifications."

A small smile tugged on your face, "Thank you." you whispered.

"You're welcome. Mine's on the back."

Flipping the card over in your hand, you read the number written down in blue pen.

"Call me."

"I will."

You watched as Natasha began walking away, shoes swinging slightly in hand.

"Hey, Natasha?"

She turned. "Yeah?"

"What are you going to do now?"

Natasha shrugged in reply, slowly walking away backwards. "I don't really know."

"You fancy getting a bite to eat?"

"Can't get enough of me, huh?"

"Like hell," you replied.

"Sure. I'd love too."

"Hey, assholes!" You announced your presence by yelling and slamming the door behind you, in the twins' apartment. Rounding the corner to see them playing a game of poker, now looking over at you.

"Where was the help?"

"Sorry," Wanda said, "We got distracted."

"We're playing poker," Pietro added.

"Yes, I can see that." You sat on the sofa between the two siblings, sat at either end of the coffee table. Sighing you said, "Deal me in then."

#original fanfiction #shotthroughtheheart3k #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #pietro maximoff #wanda maximoff #tony stark x steve rogers #tony stark #marvel #MCU

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silverarmedassassin · 4 years

Text

Day Six: A Christmas Date

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (College AU) Word Count: 4269 - sorry this one kind of got away from me whoops Summary: Bucky is desperate to find a date for his fraternity's Christmas party. You happen to stumble into the conversation at the wrong time. Or is it?

A/N: And we’re back! I’ve had a really rough past couple of days and couldn’t get any writing done, so I’m going to be playing catch up for the next few days. I hope to have days 7, 8 and 9 all out by tomorrow evening, but we’ll see. I have tomorrow off so I’ll have plenty of time to write and edit what I already have written! Enjoy!

2019 Christmas Masterlist

“Come on Stevie. Peggy has to have at least one cute single friend she can hook me up with!”

Steve looks over the top of the espresso machine he’s working with and glares at Bucky. His best friend is currently sulking over his coffee at the pick-up counter as he complains about this week’s girl issues. “Buck, I’m working.”

“But Dot’s gonna be there with her new boyfriend! If I show up alone, I’m gonna look like a total loser!”

“You’re going to look like a loser no matter what you do,” your voice chimes in as you walk up next to Bucky at the counter. You smile at Steve as he starts to prepare your usual order, and Bucky grumbles into his coffee. “What’s this one crying about now?”

“His fraternity is hosting a Christmas party and he doesn’t have a date. Word is Dottie’s gonna be there and Bucky’s freaking out.”

“Ahh,” you hum as you lean on your elbows and look towards Bucky. “What happened to the girl - was it Misty? - that’s been hanging around the past few weeks?

He glares at you as he straightens up. “It was Mandy. And we wanted...different things.”

“Oh, so she wanted something serious and you just wanted to get your dick wet?”

Bucky nearly chokes on his coffee, and you’re sure you’re going to have to call an ambulance on Steve for how hard he’s laughing. You can’t help but chuckle yourself as he leans over the counter to fist bump you between his wheezing.

“You know Buck,” Steve says as he attempts to steady himself, “you should take Y/N!”

“What!?” you and Bucky exclaim at the same time. Bucky in a panic and you shocked that Steve would even drag you into the situation.

“Yea! She knows you’re a terrible date, and she can put up with your shit. Plus, there’d be no,” Steve wiggles his eyebrows then, “expectations at the end of the night. And she’s the only one in the group that’s single.”

You scoff and cross your arms. “What about Carol? She’s not seeing anyone.”

“Everyone knows Carol is gay. It’d be too unbelievable.” Steve shrugs his shoulders like his suggestion is the obvious answer.

Bucky was quiet throughout the entire exchange while he fought his own internal battle. On one hand, he’d been considering asking you to be his date. Not out of desperation, but because he truly wanted to spend time with you, show you off not just to Dot, but to everyone.

But on the other hand, the sensible, realistic hand, he knew you’d laugh in his face if he’d ask you. Not that you were cruel, it was just that your friendship hadn’t always been as carefree and easy as it was now. Plus, he didn’t want to use you of all people to rub in Dot’s face.

The party was in less than eight hours, however, and he was getting a little bit desperate. Maybe Steve bringing up the date could really save him.

Fuck it, Bucky thinks to himself, I’m just gonna ask her.

“Yea! Come on, Y/N, be my date!” He puts on his best pouty face and bats his ridiculously long eyelashes at you. “Pleeeeease? Can’t you pretend you don’t hate me for just one night? I’ll buy you your coffee for an entire week straight. Please!”

“Okay! Okay, okay, you’re making a scene,” you shush Bucky as his pleas grow louder, drawing the attention of those sitting closest to the counter. “I’ll go with you, just stop!”

Bucky stops pouting and gives you an exasperated look. “Wait, really? You’ll really go with me?” He tries not to let the excitement seep through his tone.

You shrug nonchalantly. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to a good party. Plus, I’m never going to pass up free alcohol.”

Bucky bites his lip in an attempt to hold back a smile, but his excitement is too much to contain. “Yes!” he says as he punches the air. “You don’t know how much you’re saving my ass, really I-”

He’s cut off when his phone starts to vibrate. Pulling it out of his pocket, he looks back to you and Steve. “Listen, I gotta run,” he says as he starts backing up towards the front door. “I’ll pick you up at your place at 5:30, okay?”

Before you can respond, Bucky is planting a chaste kiss to the side of your head and running out of the coffee shop. You sigh as you lean back and watch him through the shop’s windows.

“You know, if you could just keep it in his pants for more than a day, maybe he could find someone to commit it.”

Steve slides your drink over the counter towards you as his best friend disappears down the street towards campus. “Yea,” he says, turning his gaze on the back of your head. “But I think the girl he’s really interested in is too far out of reach for him.”

You turn and grab your coffee and shrug. “I better get going too. You have a job to do and I have a dress to go buy! Thanks, Stevie!”

You wave as you make your way towards the front door, and Steve just shakes his head. “They’re such idiots,” he says under his breath before turning his attention back to his work.

When 5:20 p.m. rolls around, you’re standing in front of the mirror in your room, twirling side to side so that you can examine your dark purple, crushed velvet dress. The skirt, as your roommate Natasha described it, is a nice flirty length, falling midthigh. Although not too revealing, the dress still revealed enough skin on top to be a little hazardous. With the neckline scooping to just above the valley of your breasts, and the back going down just as far, you felt

“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask as you examine your backside again.

Natasha, who is sprawled out on your bed, sighs and looks up from her chemistry textbook for the fifteenth time in as many minutes. “I told you, it’s perfect. You’re going to have every guy at that party begging on their knees for your attention.”

You make eye contact through the mirror but quickly avert your gaze. “Yeah, but what will Buc-”

“What will Bucky what?” Natasha interrupts you as she sits up fully. “It’s just Bucky. Since when does his opinion on what you do or wear matter?”

You bite your lip. She’s right, it is just Bucky. But that was the problem. You’re not sure when just Bucky started causing your stomach to do somersaults and your heart feel like it was going to explode in your chest.

It’s not like you hadn’t known Bucky for almost three years. It’s not like you had fallen for his devilishly handsome looks the moment he stepped foot into your freshman English class. Or his ridiculous charm when you accidentally ran into him in the dorm hallway one morning when you were running late for class.

And it’s not like you’ve spent the last four years burying those feelings under every ounce of willpower you had. No, it’s just Bucky and his opinion doesn’t matter at all.

Except it does.

A knock on your front door draws you from your thoughts and does nothing to calm the cage of butterflies that had been released in your tummy the second you’d agreed to go to this party.

Natasha jumps off the bed and out into the living room. “Coming!” she sing-songs as she makes her way to the front door. “What a gentleman, coming to meet the parents before he takes ya on a date.”

“Nat” you grumble as you grab your bag and phone from your dresser. With one final look in the mirror, you sigh and turn off the light. Here goes nothing.

As you emerge from the hall, Natasha has already ushered Bucky into the apartment. Your steps falter a little when you catch a glimpse of him. He’s wearing your favorite red Henley and dark jeans combo with his worn leather jacket thrown over the top.

He catches your movement out of the corner of his eye and turns to look at you. A shy smile creeps across his face as he tunes whatever Natasha had been talking about with him out. She picks up on this, because she turns to look at you too.

“Oh goody!” she claps before pulling her phone from her back pocket. “Get together kids, I need to document this moment! It’s like you’re going to prom!”

“Nat,” you hiss as you make your way towards the door.

“Just one picture. We need to document the one and only time James Barnes has clean hair and looks like a right gentleman!”

One picture turns into five different staged photos, and before you know it Bucky is pulling at your arm to get you out the door. “I’m sorry Tasha, but we really have to go!”

“Be safe, kids! Use protection! I don’t any any grandbabies yet!!” Natasha calls after you, wheezing as she does so. You were going to kill her when you get home tonight.

You take a deep breath as Bucky pulls up in front of the massive fraternity house. The white colonial-style home, complete with columns and a beautiful front porch, was far too nice for a group of college-aged men to living, breaking and...doing god knows what.

“Nervous?” Bucky asks from the driver’s seat. He doesn’t dare rip his gaze from the line of cars in front of his.

“No,” you say far too quickly to be convincing. Why the hell were you so nervous?! “Are you?”

Bucky shrugs then and unbuckles his seatbelt. “First time seeing Dot since the breakup. It’s not my idea of a great party.” He turns to look at you then, a soft smile playing on his face. “But I’ve got a beautiful date to make me feel a little better.”

You roll your eyes and unbuckle your own belt. “Shut up,” you grumble as you shove the car door open. It’s like he knew exactly what to say to get under your skin and right to the butterflies.

Before you can even make it out of the car, Bucky is around to your side holding the door like the gentleman he isn’t. He sheepishly smiles when you give him a look and shrugs it off.

“Gotta make it look believable,” he says with a laugh.

As the two of you make your way to the front door, Bucky is stopped by a few of the guys. Fortunately, you know most of them since your group of friends spends a decent amount of time together, so no introductions are needed. A few of them do, however, side-eye you for a moment before patting Bucky on the back in a congratulatory manner. You try to brush it off as guys just being guys.

When you finally reach the far-too-grand front door, complete with an old-fashioned knocker, Bucky stops.

“Are you okay with me touching you?” he asks shyly.

“What?!”

“Not like...Y/N! I mean like, holding your hand, and dancing. You know, like boyfriend things.”

Please, you yell inside your head. Outwardly, you keep your calm.

“Get enough alcohol in me,” you say as you pat his scruffy cheek, “you can do whatever you’d like.”

If you’re going to make it believable, you might as well embrace the part, right?

Bucky practically chokes on his own tongue. “Right. Uh, shall we?” he says as he motions towards the door.

He guides you through the foyer and into the main room of the house where bodies were spilling out into the hall and into the smaller library and sitting rooms, hand firmly planted on your lower back. It seems like every other person you pass wants his attention, but he’s focused on getting the two of you into the heart of the party, probably to camouflage himself so Dot wouldn’t spot him.

“Hey. Bucky!” Christopher, who you know as the fraternity’s president, waves at Bucky from around a box of store-bought chicken. “I know you helped all day, but can you give me a hand with the rest of the food? It just got delivered.”

Bucky looks between you and Chris and sighs. “I’m really sorry,” he starts, shoulder dropping in defeat knowing he can’t possibly say no. He is one of the biggest and strongest of the brothers and was used to getting called upon to do the heavy lifting around the house.

“It’s fine,” you say waving him off. “I’m going to get a drink. Want your usual?”

He smiles at this and nods. “I’ll be back in five, promise!”

You watch him jog out the door Chris had just emerged from, and you turn to make your way to the kitchen. It was quieter, not as many bodies lingering around, so you decide you’ll camp out in there until Bucky comes back.

You’re just grabbing a beer for Bucky and wine cooler for yourself when a familiar voice calls your name.

“It is you!” Dot says when you turn around to see who was beckoning you. She hurries over and gives you a tight squeeze like it hadn’t been three months since she broke the heart of one of your best friends. Like she hadn’t destroyed the one person who’s happiness sometimes meant more to you than your own.

Taking one look at her, you suddenly feel very self-conscious. She’s an absolute vision in a deep evergreen dress that falls just above her knee. One thing you’d always loved about Dot was her effortless, vintage style. The dress screamed the 1940s and was something that would have made you look like you were in costume.

Her red hair was curled to perfection and framed her striking features perfectly. You were silly to think that Bucky would ever feel anything towards you when he had dated her for nearly four years. The encounter had you second-guessing why you’d even agreed to come to this party in the first place.

“How have you been? I miss seeing your smiling face every day!” Dot says cheerfully. In her typical energetic way, she doesn’t give you time to respond. “You look beautiful by the way! That color really suits you!”

“Not as beautiful as you,” a man you don’t recognize says as he walks up and wraps his arms around Dot’s middle.

“Oh hush,” she giggles as she leans into the kiss he plants on the side of her head. You shift your weight from side-to-side, uncomfortable with the exchange in front of you. It must catch Dot’s attention because she snaps out of the love bubble she had been in and looks back to you.

“Oh! I’m so rude! Y/N, this is Danny. Danny, Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Danny says as he extends one hand away from Dot to shake yours. You give a tight smile and return the gesture.

“Y/N and I ran in the same group for a while at the beginning of college. But, you know, life got in the way. It’s so nice to see you, though! I don’t think I ever saw you at one of these parties back when...” she just shrugs and decides not to finish the thought.

“Things change, I guess,” you awkwardly laugh.

Before things can get any more awkward, Bucky comes in through the door calling your name. He doesn’t see Dot and Danny at first, and so bounds over to you in two quick strides before wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“I guess they do,” Dot says as she watches Bucky pull you closer into his side.

You want to preen at the obvious change in tone, an almost bitterness lacing her words now, but you know it’s just for show and she has nothing to actually be bitter about. This is the exact reason Bucky had even wanted you to come with him, and at least for his sake, it was working. Without thinking, you wrap an arm around his solid, broad middle.

“Dot!” Bucky exclaims in his smooth, confident tone you’d come to love. Bucky was nothing if not confident with the ladies, which is why he had a new one almost every week since the duo had broken up. He was also a great actor. You know for a fact that this confidence was just a front. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Surprise,” she says, pulling Danny’s arms a little tighter around her middle. Her gaze lingers on Bucky’s fingers as they start absentmindedly tracing shapes along your velvet-sleeved arm. “I didn’t know you two were...together.”

You can feel the rumble in his chest as he laughs. “Surprise!”

The tension in the room is so thick you could cut it with a dull knife. You look up at Danny who is glancing back and forth between Bucky and Dot, obviously not knowing what was going on. Unable to stand the awkward tension, you pat Bucky’s side gently to gain his attention.

“I’m, uh, gonna run to the restroom. Come find me when you’re done in here?”

Bucky glances at you and swallows hard. His eyes are pleading you to stay, but there’s nothing you can do to remedy the situation. Just like you’d told him on the way over, if he ever really wanted to let this go, he was going to have to talk to her sooner or later.

You take pity on him though and lean up to kiss his cheek. “I’ll be gone for just a few,” you whisper before releasing your grip on him and making towards the hallway.

When you emerge from the bathroom three minutes later, you can hear yelling over the music. As you make your way back towards the kitchen, you come to find that it was Bucky and Dot who was the source of the commotion.

Everyone has cleared out of the kitchen now, including Danny, so you choose to stay away. Deciding you’d rather not hang awkwardly around waiting for Bucky, and not feeling like striking up a conversation with anyone you know, you head out to the front porch. Luckily the weather has been mild this year, so you won’t freeze while you wait for Bucky to come to find you.

Ten minutes went by, then twenty, and you start getting a little antsy. There’s no way he was still in there talking with Dottie.

Despite the faux-date, you had been hoping to spend some time with Bucky. You thought that since he’d asked, begged you to come with that he would at least keep you on his arm while he made his rounds. But it was starting to look like that was not going to happen.

You check the time again and sigh, deciding that you’ll just call Natasha or even Clint to come to pick you up. You didn’t feel like wandering around the party by yourself, and you didn’t want to ask Bucky to leave in the middle just to take you home.

You shoot a quick text to Bucky to let him know what was going on, told him you weren’t feeling well and Natasha was coming to pick you up. It wasn’t completely a lie, just not the whole truth either. You call Nat and luckily she’s in the middle of a study break and agrees to come to get you in fifteen.

You wait for a text from Bucky, hoping it would be him telling you not to go, but it never comes. So when Natasha pulls up, you decide to leave the party, and hopefully your feelings for Bucky behind.

You’re awoken at 3:30 a.m. by your phone buzzing. You pointedly ignore it and turn over and try to go back to sleep. As soon as the call ends, another comes in immediately. You huff and roll back over, angrily yanking the phone from its place on your nightstand. Bucky Boy the caller id reads.

Before your tired brain can process what’s going on, the call ends and another immediately starts back up. “Hello?” you rasp into the phone, throat dry with disuse.

“Y/N!” Bucky slurs into the phone, obviously drunk. It startles you for a moment before you remember that he doesn’t need to drive anywhere since he lives at the frat house. “You left me at the party.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh, definitely not wanting to have this discussion with drunk Bucky, let alone sober Bucky. “I wasn’t feeling well so I came home.”

“But you looked so pretty and I didn’t even getta tell ya. I didn’t even getta dance with you!” You can hear him pouting through the phone and you can’t help but give a silent laugh.

“Buck, you’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“No!” he shouts defiantly like a child. “Ya gotta listen to me, Y/N. Dottie...Dot, she tried to tell me that I didn’t really like you, that she could see through our facade. At first I got real mad, because that’s not what wasna sposed to happen. She was supposed to see us together, because it’s us, and get real jealous.

“But ya know what, Y/N, she was always jealous of you. ‘Cause you’re smart and caring, and funny and nice, and,” he stops to hiccup then. “And you’re jus so beautiful, ya know? She should be jealous of you because she’s not you and you’re you, ya know? And I know you’re gonna try and tell me I’m jus saying this ‘cause I’m drunk, but I’m not!”

Your head starts to spin a little as he continues talking. Every other word is slurred worse than before, which helps remind you of the fact that, yes, he is just saying this because he’s drunk. He’s drunk and upset about Dot so he’s projecting. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

“Ya know, I still remember that first day in English. I stumbled in half asleep and late and the seat next to you was the first one I saw. I hated it because it was in the front - I mean come on Y/N, who sits in the front of the classroom! - and vowed to never sit there again, but I did. I did every day for the rest of the semester and I’m so glad I did.

“You know why Dot doesn’t like you? Because I think she figured it all out before me. She broke up with me because she knew she wasn’t ever gonna live up to you. And I hate myself for only being able to tell you this while I’m drunk, but please, in the morning, make me say it again, okay? Because I like you and I think the feeling is mutual, but I’ve always been too scared to say something.

“And then stupid Dot came along and she was safe. I couldn’t ruin a friendship if there wasn’t one to begin with, so I settled. But I don’t wanna settle anymore, okay? So make me tell ya all of this again in the morning ‘cause I need to. You need to know.”

Tears start to drop down onto your cheeks, leaving salty trails as they do so. You’re not sure what to say, so you sit there and let him ramble on. You’d dreamt about this moment countless times before, Bucky confessing his feelings to you, but you never thought it would happen like this. Not when you’re half-awake with terrible bedhead and with Bucky three sheets to the wind. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but you’ll take it.

Bucky’s quiet a little too long then, and you can hear his breathing over the phone as slowed a little. “Bucky?” you ask quietly into the speaker, but you’re met with only his soft breaths. He must have fallen asleep. Good. A sniffle a little before letting out a deep breath. “Good night, Buck. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

In the morning. Hopefully, in the morning everything he had just confessed to you would still stand true. That you would be able to confess your own feelings and something good could finally come from it.

You hang up and shoot him a quick text before you can second guess it. Returning your phone to its charger on the nightstand, you roll over and feel the butterflies come back. In the morning.

You: Hey Buck. Drunk you had some interesting things to say tonight. He wanted me to make sober you retell me everything in the morning, so I’m holding you to it. How about breakfast? We can make it a date. A real one this time.

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fresh-outta-jams · 5 years

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Can You Hear Me?-Part 1

Johnny x Reader Author: MoRo

Prompt: Oooh okayy, I'd like to request some Johnny fluff please? Like maybe a soulmate au

Summary: You were unconcerned about soulmate things because getting it was the end of your final year in collage and time was counting down until graduation. But what happens when your soulmate suddenly appears right before your finals exams and it turns out he's been there for much longer than you knew? Having your soulmate in your head was not something you needed but the more you get to know him, the more you appreciate him being there. College!Johnny x reader

Note: I’M ALIVE YALL. So while Admin Mo is taking a hiatus so I’m not interfering, I finally wrote a little bit more when I was in Korea and have started a NCT Johnny x reader fic that was requested a while ago. I’m not sure how many parts there will be or how frequently I’ll be able to get them out but I have a few lined up! Warnings: Just fluff? Word Count: 2.1k

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

You didn't have time to be concerned with soulmate things. It was your final semester in college and that meant crunch time. But rest of your friends had their soulmate mark and were anxious for you to get yours. You, on the other hand, were not because a soulmate meant time away from studying for your final exams and your medical school entrance exams. You mean you did want one but you've accepted that right now was probably not the best time.

"So... anything today?" Your friend Maeve asked. She had gotten her soulmate mark 2 years ago during your sophomore year. It was their first words, tattooed down her right thigh in beautiful script. Her soulmate was a cute human being from a few countries away whom she fatefully met when the both of them were on a volunteer trip that combined groups from different schools.

You look up from your notebook and pull your glasses off the top of your head, settling them back on the bridge of your nose. "Nope and I still don't care right now." You give her a look.

She sighs and runs her hands through her hair. "I know. I know. I'm just concerned. Maybe if you had a soulmate you'd take better care of yourself. Like they could help you relax and stop studying so much because you clearly do not listen to me." You put your notebook down with a sigh and look at your best friend.

"Don't worry about me. I'm fine. Really, I promise. Besides what if I'm one of those few who don't have a soulmate?" You lean back in your chair and cross your arms across your chest.

Maeve leans forward, "I don't believe you. And I highly doubt that. That like never happens and we're still young. They're out there, somewhere."

You give her a soft reassuring smile. "I love you Maeve but you're more concerned than I am. You worry too much about it."

Glancing at your watch, you see there's a few minutes before your next class starts. "Shit Maeve, I've gotta run. Anatomy starts in like 5 minutes." You quickly pack up all your stuff and book it to the science hall.

Breathless, you slide into your seat with 2 minutes to spare. Pulling out your notebook and pencil, you wait for the professor to begin their lecture.

After class, you head back to your dorm apartment to study for the Anatomy test you have tomorrow. You like anatomy but there's so much memorization and awkward wording of everything in the body. As the hours grow late, you get more and more worried about the test. You try to concentrate harder despite your need to sleep and the bobbing of your tired head.

"I've been trying to keep it in so I don't bother you but I just can't anymore. Stop worrying about the test. I've learned more from listening to you studying than I have all semester. It'll be fine. You need to go to sleep." A voice says.

Your head snaps up and you look around your room. There's no one in the room except you. But you swore you heard a voice. "Who's there?" You quietly ask the darkness. There's no reply back. You rub your eyes and go back to studying, a bit unnerved.

You wake up with your cheek stuck to your anatomy book and your eyes heavy with sleep. Stretching, you look around glancing at the clock. Then it sinks in and you bolt up, spine stiff. Dread pools in your stomach.

It's three in the afternoon.

Your anatomy class was at noon.

You missed it. You missed the test.

Standing up abruptly, you knock over your chair and grip your head. "Oh my God, oh my god, oh my god. I missed the test! I can't believe I fell asleep! What do I do!?" You freak out. You prided yourself on never missing a class, but now that record was ruined.

Your heart races, beating loud in your ears, and your breathing becomes shallow like you've just ran a marathon.

"Hey hey hey... it's alright. It’s alright." A soothing deep voice says in your head. "Just email your professor and say you got sick."

Then an equaling calming feeling suddenly washes over you like someone wrapping their arms around you and envelops you. It calms your racing thoughts a bit. You feel as though there's a gentle presence with you even though you are all alone in your room.

"H-hello?" You say softly out loud, heart still pounding in your ears.

"Hi. Do you feel better?" The voice says again in your head.

"A little but I'm confused..." You say out loud again.

"Oh my goodness, I didn't even introduce myself. I'm Johnny." The voice says. "I'm your soulmate and I think we can communicate by thoughts and maybe feelings too."

Your jaw drops and everything goes silent for a minute. "S-soulmate? I didn't think I had one..." You think, feeling weird like as if you're talking to yourself.

"Oh I know me too. But here we are. So soulmate do you have a name or do I think of a cute nickname for you?" The voice says lightly. You can practically hear his teasing tone.

"O-oh I'm sorry. I'm Y/N." You respond. You can feel something tighten in your mind, almost like a bond that snaps into place.

Through that bond, you can feel his smile and an appreciative rumble. "Hmm Y/N. That's a pretty name." He says again in that deep voice, making you blush and get all warm. It's such an odd yet automatic reaction.

You touch your cheeks and try to will it down, as if he can see you blushing. "T-thanks." You say softly down the bond. Then something hits you. "Johnny..." You say testing his name out. "Was that you last night who told me to stop worrying about my test?"

You hear an adorable laugh come down the bond. "Yeah that was me. Sorry for scaring you. I was going to wait until you had a breather to let you know I was here but you were studying so hard last night and all those thoughts were getting blasted into my head so I couldn't sleep. Plus it was late and you needed to sleep too."

"Ahh...I see. Well thank you I guess." You say gently, nodding.

Johnny laughs a little again at your gentleness. "That's alright. I'm glad I got to meet you now though instead of just awkwardly lurking and listening but never saying anything." He admits.

"What do you mean?" You ask.

"Our soulmate bond actually happened a while ago like a few months ago. But I was nervous to talk to you and then I gathered that you were a medical kid and going into exams based off your thoughts so I didn't want to bother you so you could study without distractions..." He trails off, getting shy now.

Now you giggle softly. "He's sweet." You think to yourself, hoping he can't hear your every thought. Then you remember your missed test and the anxiety sweeps back through you. But Johnny's words come back to you. So you pull out your computer and compose an email to your professor, saying you were sick and asking if you could retake the test at a later date. Once that was done, you felt a little better.

Your mind was awfully quiet now that Johnny seemed to have gone away for a little bit. It was weird, you had gone all your life without someone else in your head and now that there was, it was empty without him. Like you could feel an emptiness now.

Was this was it feels like to have a soulmate?

You send a thought to Johnny wondering where he went. "So what do we now..?" You ask him.

You feel his presence pop back in. "Oh sorry, I had to take care of something...Well we could talk about ourselves. Get to know one another." He suggested. You nodded, "Yeah that's a good idea."

Johnny then started to tell you some about himself. "Well umm.. I'm an only child, my favorite color is blue, watermelon is my favorite fruit, I'm an Aquarius, my friends say I tell bad jokes but I think I'm funny." He laughs a little at that but then continues on, "And umm... I like to play volleyball. I live and go to college in Chicago. I'm like 6'1"ish... Oh and I can finish a whole large pizza by myself!"

You get bombarded with all these little facts about your soulmate and it's honestly adorable how much he likes to talk. You could listen to his voice forever. So that's what you do. You just listen as Johnny talks.

Johnny realizes you've been quiet for a while and how long he’s been talking. "Oh I'm so sorry Y/N, I have a bad habit of just talking and talking. I'll stop now, tell me about you." You can feel his embarrassment down the bond. You laugh a little, sending the twinkling feeling down the bond where it hits straight into Johnny's heart.

"Oh my god her laugh is adorable." He thinks to himself, face growing warm.

"No, no it's alright, I like listening. And you have a nice voice. Like a radio or a talk show host voice." You tell him, breaking through his thought and pulling him back into your conversation.

Johnny was glad you can't see him right now because he was blushing hardcore. First your laugh, now you calling his voice cute. He holds his cheeks in his hands, feeling them burning.

You take his silence as your cue to speak so you begin to tell him about yourself. You talk about your family, your favorite color, your favorite foods, and your hobbies.

For hours you two talk and talk about everything and anything under the sun. You wanted to never stop talking to him. But then he had to go. "Hey Y/N I would love to talk forever with you but I have to get to bed." He says regretfully.

You feel a pang of something in your heart but you understand. "That's alright. You need to sleep. Oh but I won't wake you right with my thoughts? Like what happened last night." You ask concerned since you don't know how complex your soulmate bond is.

You hear Johnny's chuckling. "No babe you won't wake me. If you direct your thoughts at me, that's when I can hear you. I can't hear your every thought but I think I heard those thoughts yesterday because you were freaking out and concentrating so hard so for some reason I could hear them. That’s how I could hear your thoughts a few months ago." He explains.

"Ah okay, I'll try not to freak out or concentrate so hard to wake you...Sleep well Johnny." You tell him as he goes silent in your mind.

You don't even register that he called you babe until after you can feel his presence is gone, leaving you feeling empty again. "H-he called me babe..." And oddly enough, it didn't weird you out. It felt like it just naturally rolled off his tongue without a second thought. You realized you loved the sound of it.

The sound of your phone ringing breaks your attention away from the words of your soulmate. You snatch up your phone and look at the caller id. It was Maeve. You slid the green phone icon over, connecting the call.

"Yo Y/N, I'm hungry let's go get dinner." Maeve's voice floats out of your phone speakers.

"Okay, I'm in my room. I'll be down in a few. Oh and I've got to tell you something too!" You can barely keep your excitement about Johnny in as you get around for dinner.

"Oh really?" You can practically hear Maeve's eyebrow raise.

"Yeah..." You giggle.

"Well hurry up and you can tell me. I'm already in the lobby." A hangry Maeve says.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." You tell her, trying not to be slow when she's hangry.

Soon after you end the call with a hangry Maeve, you meet up in the lobby and go to dinner. At dinner you spill your secret, unable to keep it in. There’s a huge smile on your face.

"WHAT!?" Maeve yells loudly and slams her hands on the table. "Is that why you've been ignoring my texts all day?"

You smile again, "I'm sorry Maeve... it's just so weird to have a soulmate now. I thought I was going to be alone forever... but now all I want to do is talk to him all day."

Maeve rolls her eyes. "Says the one who was so against having a soulmate. Now you see what I've been trying to tell you!" Your best friend smiles big back at you. "I'm so happy for you Y/N."

Rest of dinner you talk about Johnny and the day you've had. You go to bed that night with a light heart and a smile on your face.

#kpopwonderlandtag #johnnyseo #nctjohnny #johnnyxreader #nctxreader #kpop #kpopfic #nctfic #johnnyfic #writingthismademefallinlovewithhim #andnowimsadidonthaveasoulamate #orajohnny #soulmateau #nctsoulmateau #nctjohnnysoulmateau

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abyss-mal-blog1 · 5 years

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current mind-space//word vomit

it’s amazing how much can change in a few days, but it hasn’t been a week since my finals ended and i already felt so different. i have been doing f45 everyday this week (if not then some kind of workout, but i’ve really been into that recently). i am feeling so much better now without deadlines, sometimes i don’t know if i function better under pressure or not. i guess not, but then it’s amazing how much i can do and achieve under pressure. i need the right amount of pressure, and this semester it has been a little difficult for me to get around that.

last friday was kinda my last day of finals, i just had an essay to submit, and i am disappointed in myself and my work ethic because i submitted it at 9pm, went to my cousin’s (disappointing) party, and then professor emailed me to say that she cannot read Pages format (seriously smh @ my tardiness!!!), only got back at 1am that night and sent my mediocre essay. i am a little sad about it because i know that is not my 100%. idk why but college so far has just been a series of 80% effort. this paper was an interesting one, on airbnb, on the sharing economy, it’s a performance studies paper where i analyze the hospitality platform in terms of host-user relationship, parasitism and (attempted) to talk about free online labor. it is a little too late now but i kinda want to work on it again and like, submit for feedback. maybe ill ask taylor.

last saturday was kinda meh, i agreed to go to a *social* kinda event at a bar/club at chelsea, held for Asian-ivy-alumni-people that yanlin invited me too. it was at up&up and honestly a little...i didn’t enjoy it at all. the music sucked, the people were either too dorky or gross or old or weird, and the whole time i just kept saying to myself, “never again”. they said it was open bar but they only served absolut, which was shit. and then my friend’s two friends were...i feel sorry that this was their first clubbing experience. at the beginning my reaction was look at all these ivy alumni! get hitched with one of them for ~da connectsx~ (and nothing else) but no kidding i was actually interested in talking to them just to get to know what people who graduated from ivies are up to, and what are they doing at such events...and are they actually enjoying themselves because it was really kinda gross. met my friend’s friend who seemed like a really smart engineer (he asked for my number the next day lol), and a german dude at the bar who didn’t want to get me a drink. all i needed that night was a drink.....(i’m glad i didn’t drink tho because recently drinking has made me feel all kinds of bad) we had ramen after at ramen-ya (most probably the worst ramen and charsiew i’ve had but what can we do at 3am and my friend wanted noodle and soup...)

on sunday i KNow i should have left my house earlier to workout but i didn’t. i was angry at myself that i didn’t. instead, i stayed at home and emotion-ate. i must have eaten more green bean soup than my stomach would have liked. what else...avocado? i remember..two bananas? god. this was the day i felt like i was n’s boyfriend because i had to do what she wanted to do. i know i had agreed on going, but at that point i really wanted to go thrifting or something. i mean when i got to central park it was fine and things were good but the whole day just felt like i was kinda pulled into doing something that wasn’t my first choice of plans, not that i didn’t enjoy myself lying under the sun at the park. it just felt like i was accompanying someone. i was half an hour late to meet her as well, and half heartedly got a burrito-wrap at newsbar. if you think about it it is really kinda funny, we’re just buying food and taking the subway to this grass patch 50 blocks away. we didn’t walk much, we literally only stayed at a little grassy slope overlooking the baseball pitch. anyway we went to a dance class after (the class was an hour long but i felt like n had asked me about when and what time we should book the classes for more than an hour by text so i just got really sick of it) i rushed home and got dinner with my uncle who’s in town for my cousin’s graduation. i was surprised that he chose the same japanese restaurant again, after dissing it half a year ago we ate here. the omakase was crazy and it cost 230 per person. (for the most expensive set) it was also kinda dumb because you aren’t allowed to order a different omakase set from anyone else - everyone on the table has to order the same - because of “timing”. i wonder if this is how it is in japanese omakase etiquette, but in any case it really earned them a hefty amount because my uncle decided to get 230 for all of us. qiyang didn’t like and said qiqi had bad taste, hahaha. the food wasn’t bad, i mean it’s japanese fusion, but the prices were way too steep for the taste. anyway enough about the food, during the dinner i think we talked about many things though. i kinda wanted to talk to my uncle individually because i think he is the only one who knows about ah gong, but he was sick, and i could tell he was exhausted. my aunt got a little impatient because i didn’t arrange plans to take their furniture and they were going to throw all of them away and it was actually the first time i’ve seen her get so worked up - but at the same time trying to control her emotions - because she was talking to me. i could tell she was annoyed though but i tried not to take it personally, and arranged it tomorrow.

arranging the moving stuff was kinda last minute, i was walking to the library for work one day and i saw a truck that said MakeSpace. i assumed it was a kind of moving company and so i looked them up. they seemed to be pretty okay in terms of their services and so i decided to try them out. confirmation and setting up an appointment went pretty smoothly, except for the part where the guy i think his name was joseph, asked me to give my credit card details over the phone. idk why i did that! i stopped though, and asked him why, to which he replied he wanted to key in with the coupon code. this service has so much gimmicks within the first 2-3 minutes on the phone he was already telling me about how the first pick up is free, and that he will deduct 100$ off the first month...when people give you discounts too easily it just feels like a ploy and a thing they give to everyone, it’s not anything special and it’s probably calculated inside whatever we have to pay. anyway, i was just thinking it would be cheaper (assuming the maximum that i would have to pay is ~$500, as i confirmed with them on the phone yesterday), it’d still be cheaper than starting an apartment lease now and going through the trouble of finding two subletters.

well. idk, it’s also easy to have things all moved in, i have to find a place to store my perishables!

moving is so much work, and storing things. this reminds me of my paper on airbnb and about the digital nomad lifestyle. it is interesting though, that this is what it has become. but the homogenized aesthetic is something i really cannot stand, in airbnb, in coffeeshops around the world..i am sure you know what i’m talking about. a new york times writer did something about this - he termed it “Airspace” - and apparently it originated from Brooklyn. I guess that’s where the art/avant-garde stuff started. well. keep a look out im gonna write a blogpost about that

moving on

nat came to sleepover on sunday night and a few days after because the school kicks you out of the dorms you pay so much for right after your final ends. i forgot if we did something fun but i probably just fell asleep.

on monday i think i went to f45 and did cardio at Dumbo with Gi. he seems like a pretty nice trainer, the first time i went it was him and another girl Bertha (i think my first f45 was last tuesday) and i felt like i had two personal trainers with me - Gi was cheering me on and Bertha was doing it with me. it felt like such a good workout, one of the best ive had in a while. then work, where i arranged the movers stuff. i also realized i bought the wrong date for my flight ticket as my friends and had to buy one more...............

tuesday was the same f45 in the morning, and the bobst after. didn’t really get much work done at bobst. oh i also viewed a 3BR flex at 160. hella expensive and small, and dates didn’t work out anyway. also the broker who brought us to view the apartment was a very nice tall french man and his name was jean-francois which i couldn’t pronounce and asked nat but still called him jean as in jeen instead of john. this is why i have to learn french. you’re embarrassing. i also went to the itp/ima spring show with shubham which was super cool. there were many cool ideas, and i just wonder if i could create something like that. i didn’t get to see all of the exhibits which i regret, but i remember a few notable projects. one was an installation made with keyboards that randomly clicks, but when you hold your phone up it’ll stop. it’s made using 3d gestures. there’s also one at a gallery for surveillance, this team had a thing they call facebox, and it’s literally a box, that when you open it has a webcam that would capture your face, find you on facebook, and print out an invoice/receipt on how much you have earned for this giant tech company. what else...an AR project that when you scan a food, it shows you where the food comes from. nat said that she would love it if menus have something they could scan and then have pictures appear in ~holographic~ format, or maybe in the nearer future something on your phone that shows you a picture of the picture of the food. but isn’t it a surprise tho? sometimes the fun’s in the surprise, you read the description, you know what are the foods you’ll eat, leaving room to imagine or be surprised by how the chef puts it together! anyway, went for dinner with nat and jenny - got vegan shwarma (definitely wasn’t worth $14) and went to get crepes with will after.

wednesday we were gonna go to the dmv but we weren’t prepared. nat also needed to get her passport and she was lazy. wow the number of times i mentioned her, it feels like she’s my boyfriend at this point. talked to famz, sister, and beatrix. am currently considering if i should even go to beijing or just go straight home. fuck. went to bobst for work but no one was there i was just really sleepy. viewed an apartment at 55 morton (it’s a nice quiet residential street that seems to be tucked away from the loud cars and bars and people) then i went to f45 again-varsity!!! cardio!!!, walked across brooklyn bridge (a little regret although i wanted to walk, but my bag was heavy and there were too many tourists to brisk walk)

also the reason for this is that after my soba/miso/salad/shrimp dinner last night i was just watching a bunch of netflix shows and it was probably the caffeine from puerto rican roasting company - the barista made me a chai cappuccino with almond milk (3 SHOTS!!!)

me and nat couldn’t sleep, i really think i slept for an hour. i watched so many different shows, yoko and john’s documentary, while we were young, anthony bourdain, i was seriously flipping through all the shows and alternating between amazonprme and youtube and netflix and i even tried watching peaceful cuisine and making the brightness lower and had the sleep mode on and wow i just couldn’t sleep

so yeah the birth of this word vomit

i am going to create more things

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kpopsinning · 7 years

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Let the Games Begin (ot7/Vmin semi-focus)

So that was how it came to be: seven unlikely friends, sort of misfits in their own ways, but friends nonetheless.

Given that, it shouldn’t have been so shocking that such unlikely friends would find themselves in such an unlikely situation on Friday October 13th.

genre: angst (horror, major character deaths, gore, murder, drug and alcohol use)

word count: 19k

A/N: This story was written for a contest to create something BTS related based on your favorite horror movie. This story is based around the Saw franchise and universe. If you are familiar with Saw, you know exactly what’s coming, so consider that. Do not take the tags lightly. Because this was for a contest based around horror, I did not hold back. In all honesty, this fic is really fucked up, so I’m sorry in advance.

You have been warned, proceed with caution :-)

Most people at the university saw them as a very unlikely group of friends. Just seven misfits living together for the sake of cheaper rent, a circumstance which eventually lead to a much deeper friendship.

Seokjin and Namjoon started off with the house, splitting the ridiculously high rent of the large four bedroom home just between the two of them for several months until they were sure they found roommates who they wouldn’t want to kick out within a month of moving in.

First came Jungkook.

Namjoon had been friends with Jungkook since the year previous when he was the younger’s floor RA. Joon had dormed on campus before he moved to live with Seokjin, and quickly developed a soft spot for his younger resident. When Jungkook realized that Namjoon wouldn’t be living in the campus residence halls the following semester, he had to admit, he was a little hurt. He was on the shier side and enjoyed having formed such a close relationship with his RA, and quite honestly wasn’t sure he could handle living in the dorms without him. One day over the summer he had asked Namjoon what his plans were if he wasn’t going to live in the dorms anymore, and the second he heard about the house he and Seokjin planned on renting, he was sold.

Namjoon was a bit surprised; Jungkook was young and living on campus was one thing, completely wanting to move out and away from his family was another. But the kid seemed sure of it, seemed determined to get out and live on his own. He insisted to Namjoon that he had a good job on campus, worked a lot of extra hours and would be able to keep up with the rent. So after a few long discussions with Jin, the two finally decided to let the younger move in with them.

Yoongi and Hoseok were the next two to move in; the almost cliche friendship between the music major and underground dancer was like something straight out of a Step Up movie. They had been friends since high school, and at the time were living in a shitty little apartment together off campus.

Yoongi had sat next to Jin during his junior spring semester philosophy elective, and the two quickly became friends. Sure, maybe they only talked so often because Yoongi was constantly dozing off in class and asking Jin to explain what was going on, but Jin didn’t mind. He was amused by his new, spaced out friend.

One day after class he overheard Yoongi grumbling something on the phone to Hoseok about how their landlord was threatening to kick them out, and Jin took the opportunity to propose him and his friend a new place to live. Yoongi and Hoseok were more than eager to take him up on the offer.

The last to move in was the couple: Jimin and Taehyung. Taehyung was best friends with Jungkook and had mentioned to him one day that he and Jimin were thinking about finding their own apartment off campus and living together. Jungkook however had an even better idea-- there was still one whole empty bedroom in the house he was currently living in, and he was sure his roommates would be glad to cut their shared rent even further. Jungkook asked Jin and Namjoon first before bringing the idea up to Tae and Jimin of course, and the older two didn’t have much of an issue with it. Jin seemed a little hesitant at first about letting a couple move in, mumbling something under his breath about not wanting to hear them fucking all night, but Namjoon just brushed him off. If Jin could bear with the amount of girls Hoseok was constantly bringing home, living with a couple wouldn’t be much different. Plus, Yoongi had mentioned he was already friends with Jimin, and if Jungkook already knew them as well they would fit right in.

So that was how it came to be: seven unlikely friends, sort of misfits in their own ways, but friends nonetheless.

Given that, it shouldn’t have been so shocking that such unlikely friends would find themselves in such an unlikely situation on Friday October 13th.

Jin was friends with one of the main founders of the biggest frat on campus, Delta Psi (friends with… tutored in microbiology… practically the same thing, right?). After the frat boy’s first well earned ‘A’ on a big exam Jin was guaranteed an invite to every party the frat threw from that day forward, even being told he could bring as many friends he wanted.

The next party the frat was scheduled to host was going to be on Friday October 13th.

Friday the 13ths weren’t always special, but when the notoriously superstitious day happened to fall during the spookiest month of the whole year, people wanted to take advantage of it. Of course any sane college student would make up even the slightest excuse to party either way, so Delta Psi decided they would throw a bit of an early Halloween celebration to commemorate such an occasion.

Jin had mentioned the party to Taehyung just four days before it was scheduled to happen. He knew that Friday was also Jimin’s birthday, so he wouldn’t have been surprised if the couple already had plans.

“Or even if you guys just want the house to yourself,” Jin added with a slight chuckle. “We’re all going to the party, so you two can be as loooud as you want, no holding back,” he teased with a wink, causing Taehyung to roll his eyes and punch his older friend on the shoulder. He told Jin he’d think about it, because truth be told he and Jimin didn’t really have any special plans for his birthday yet.

Taehyung knew his boyfriend well, and he knew he didn’t usually want to make a big fuss over his birthday. Despite that, the year previous Taehyung and the others had dragged Jimin out for a proper bar crawl on his 21st birthday. They all insisted that the only way to truly celebrate turning 21 was to legally get blackout drunk.

That level of drunkenness was certainly achieved, because Jimin couldn’t even remember the night from the moment after Yoongi opened a bottle of tequila to pregame at the house before heading out to the first bar.

But turning 22 wasn’t as special as turning 21, so Taehyung figured maybe his boyfriend would just be down to spend the night out at a party where the attention wasn’t solely focused on the birthday boy.

He brought it up to Jimin the same day Jin had told him about it as the two were getting into bed for the night. Tae was absentmindedly toying with a piece of his lover’s hair as the smaller boy shifted around, trying to comfortably snuggle himself into his boyfriend’s broad, warm chest.

“Jiminie,” Taehyung mumbled into Jimin’s hair, pausing to breathe in the familiar scent of their favorite shampoo. “Did you wanna do anything special on Friday?”

The mention of Friday, his birthday, got Jimin to stop stirring momentarily. He rested a hand on Tae’s chest and moved back a bit to look up at his face.

“Well I don’t particularly want to do anything…” he replied honestly, narrowing his eyes. “Why? Did you… you didn’t plan anything did you? Because you know after last year-” Tae chuckled and silenced his boyfriend with a chaste kiss on the lips.

“No no baby, not at all,” Taehyung defended, squeezing the hand he had rested on Jimin’s waist gently to relax him. “Jin told me today that Delta Psi is throwing another banger on Friday. Using Friday the 13th as an excuse for an early Halloween party or some shit like that,” he chuckled, amused by the way Jimin’s nose scrunched up at the mention of a party.

“So I already have to deal with the fact that my birthday’s happening on a Friday this year, but now a bunch of airhead frat boys are using the stupid date as lame justification for a party?” Jimin raised an eyebrow, and Tae had to bite back a grin.

“Well when you say it that way…” Tae mumbled, scratching the back of his neck with the hand not caressing the soft skin under Jimin’s t-shirt. Jimin rolled his eyes.

“Is everyone else going?” he sighed, and Taehyung nodded in response. “Alright alright. I mean, as long as I get to spend the day with you, that’s all that really matters to me.”

Taehyung couldn’t help but smile, giving into the sudden urge he felt to lean in and press their lips together.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make sure this birthday is a million times better than last year’s,” he assured, snaking his arms around Jimin’s waist before they both fell asleep.

The rest of the week drifted by, and before everyone knew it it was finally Friday. The group’s house was was already buzzing with excitement from it being Jimin’s birthday, but now later into the night the excitement shifted over to the party.

“Come on guys, if we get going now we’ll get there right around 10!” Jin called up the staircase. He, Namjoon, and Yoongi were all sitting in the living room waiting for the others to finish getting ready. Yoongi always seemed to be the first to be ready for a party, his already half empty flask in hand as he lounged on the couch next to Namjoon.

The group was planning on walking to the party, as the frat house it was being held at was only a little over a mile away. Walking was better than having to worry about a designated driver anyway, and it gave them some time to start sobering up whenever the decided to finally head back home.

About a minute after Jin called for the others, Jungkook and Hoseok came bounding down the stairs loudly arguing over something.

“Where’re the love birds?” Namjoon interrupted their dispute, laughing quietly as he watched the two who had just joined them start to wrestle one another.

“Don’t know, probably fucking,” Hoseok grunted, trying to maneuver out of the headlock Jungkook was holding him in and focus back on their conversation.

“What’s all this about?” Jin chuckled, dodging out of the way as Jungkook picked up Hoseok and acted like he was going to throw him across the room. Hoseok always underestimated his younger friend’s strength, and it was moments like this he was reminded Jungkook frequented the campus’s athletic center just as often as he personally frequented the dance studio.

“Kookie said he’s going to hook up with a girl tonight before I am,” Hoseok panted, finally turning the tables and shoving Jungkook against the wall. He pinned one of his leg’s in between Jungkook’s in a position he could easily knee him in the crotch if needed, and held him down with an arm across his neck.

“I didn’t say that,” Jungkook grumbled with an eyeroll, only giving Hobi a moment of dominance before easily flipping their position. “I said if I tried I could, it’s definitely not happening.” Yoongi snorted, taking a quick swig from his flask.

“Sounds like you’re trying to insinuate a bet, kid,” he chimed in, holding up his drink as if to give cheers to the two still fighting.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying!” Hoseok exclaimed before the two suddenly went tumbling to the floor with a loud thud, limbs tangling together in the process. The sound of all five of their boisterous laughs quickly filled the space of the tiny living room, drifting upstairs so that Jimin and Taehyung could hear.

“Hear that? They’re already having fun without us,” Taehyung teased, coming up behind his boyfriend to lightly press a kiss to the exposed skin of his neck right above the collar of his t-shirt. Jimin sighed and gave a small eye roll, turning to face Tae.

“Sorry sorry I just…” he gave a another, slightly louder sigh, running his fingers through his messy, faded orange hair. “Maybe I should stay in tonight… but… I don’t know... you could still go without me,” he mumbled shyly, eyes falling down to the space in between their two bodies. Taehyung instantly frowned, hand reaching up to gently cup Jimin’s face.

“Jimin, why on earth would I go out tonight, on your birthday of all days, without you?” he questioned, using his hand to force Jimin to look up and make eye contact with him. He could see worry in his lover’s eyes, a sort of hesitation that usually wasn’t there.

“I know I know but,” Jimin paused as he tried to think of the right words. “I’m getting weird vibes. Especially after last year,” he mumbled with a shrug. “And I know it probably seems silly but I just don’t want to-”

“Today is supposed to be about you, Jiminie,” Taehyung kept his voice soft but stern as he cut him off. “And if staying in tonight is really what you want to do, then fine, that’s what we’ll do. But I promise you this birthday is going to be better than last year, and I know you’re going to have an amazing time if we go out and you spend the night surrounded by your best friends,” he insisted, an assuring smile shining through as he gazed into Jimin’s eyes.

How could Jimin say no to that beautiful, boxy smile?

Jimin broke out into a grin himself just from the way Taehyung looked at him. His deep brown eyes were so full of love and admiration... Jimin completely reciprocated all the emotions felt between them in that moment, and was completely won over. He giggled quietly and stood on his toes to deeply kiss his lover, but it was less of a kiss and more like two smiles being pressed against one another.

It was then that Namjoon rudely interrupted their moment, kicking in their already cracked open bedroom door. The two were startled and jumped apart, an intense blush creeping over Jimin’s cheeks.

“Ugh gross. At least you two weren’t fucking like Hoseok thought,” Namjoon pretended to gag, jumping to the the side to evade the way Taehyung lunged at him with a fake punch. Jimin smiled as he watched the interaction unfold, going over and slipping his small hand into Taehyung’s and lacing their fingers together.

“Come on, everyone’s waiting,” Namjoon chuckled and nodded towards the stairs, already out their bedroom door and in the hallway. Tae and Jimin followed hand in hand.

“Finally,” Yoongi groaned loudly once he saw the three emerging at the top of the stairs, sprawling out further over the couch like he was suffering. “I’m already almost out of whiskey, I’m going to die if we don’t get to this party soon.” He went into a fake coughing fit, clutching onto his flask as if it were his life support. Jin rolled his eyes, swiftly snatching the small metal container out of Yoongi’s hand.

“You don’t need to bring that, there’s gonna be more than enough liquor at this party to keep up with your alcoholic tendencies.”

Yoongi tried to protest but quickly gave up, seeing as everyone else was already making their way towards the front door. He got off the couch and caught up to the them, swinging an arm over Hoseok shoulders as they began to walk down the dimly lit street of their peaceful neighborhood.

Sometimes, at times like this, the street they lived on seemed so tranquil you almost wouldn’t be able to tell there was a lively college campus and a full street of frat houses less than two miles away. Their house was located just far enough away that they were never bothered by any school related rowdiness, and they all enjoyed living in such a simple, quiet neighborhood. It felt good to get away from the wildness that could come with going to such a popular university, but living the way they did gave them all a sort of sense of refuge away from it all. Their cramped house and makeshift little family provided them with a sense of security, and it was these moments where they could just wander down the middle of the street with nothing but a comfortable silence hanging between them that they were thankful they had all come into each other’s lives.

By the time they arrived at the frat house it was already overflowing with people, and the music was being played so loudly it felt like the entire property was vibrating. Each of the boys always had slightly different motives when attending parties like this, and quickly went their separate ways-- they knew they’d find each other again at some point when they were ready to walk home in the early hours of the morning.

Jin and Joon usually stuck together, and tonight was no different. They were both just there for free beer and to chill, so they went to the kitchen, snagged whatever they wanted to drink, then wandered around until they found a group of friends to hang out with.

Yoongi was always the most predictable. The second he stepped foot through the front door he was making a beeline for the basement, where he had been told a group of his friends was waiting for him with a packed bowl with his name on it. The whiskey he had drank before was still warming his entire body, but he was itching for some THC and the wonderful floaty feeling that came with it (really at that point, he was ready to put any substance into his system to lose himself for the night).

Hoseok usually wouldn’t attend a party unless he already knew there was a girl there who wanted to get in his pants, but tonight was a little different. He and Jungkook had actually ended up making the bet on who could get with someone first, so from the moment he arrived Hoseok had his eyes peeled for a girl who looked ‘easy’.

It didn’t take long for Jungkook to begin following Hobi around like a lost puppy. He had seemed cocky about the bet at first, but once actually arriving at the party he felt intimidated. Eventually Hoseok started to feel bad for his younger friend, as it was becoming clear to him that Jungkook wasn’t as confident as he made out to be earlier at the house.

“Alright kid, listen,” Hobi huffed, shoving two red solo cups into Jungkook’s hands. “Just go up to a girl who looks kind of bored, offer her the drink, and chat her up,” he paused to pat Jungkook’s cheek, maybe a bit too roughly. “You’re cute, use that boyish charm of yours and win someone over,” he teased with a wink. Jungkook rolled his eyes and mumbled something about not needing help, and his cheeks heated up slightly. A part of him however was thankful Hoseok was pushing him in the right direction, giving him a quick nod before disappearing into a crowd of people.

Taehyung could tell Jimin was anxious from the moment they got to the frat house. He had no doubt that memories of the previous year’s birthday were flooding his mind, and the amount of people crammed so tightly into one space certainly wasn’t making it any easier. Tae gave Jimin’s hand a gentle squeeze and pulled him into the kitchen where all the alcohol was.

“Come on, let’s make some drinks and go outside, yeah?” Tae kissed Jimin’s temple and picked up two plastic cups, quickly dumping an absurd amount of the strongest liquor he saw into each and adding a splash of mixer. Jimin watched as Tae made the drinks, unphased by the amount of alcohol in them-- he figured he’d probably need it to get through the night. Within a few minutes the two were outside, sitting around a blazing firepit with a small group of people they recognized form some of their classes. It was much quieter in the backyard, so Tae assumed it’d be a good place for them to get going until they had a decent amount of alcohol pumping through their veins.

The rest of the night went on just as any other party they’d ever attended would. They drank, hung out with their friends, and had a good time. Just a typical college party, going exactly the way anyone would anticipate it to. At some point during the night however, something changed for the group of seven boys, and suddenly things were far less ‘typical’ than they would have ever imagined.

None of them were aware of when exactly things took a turn, and they never would be.

It was around 2am when Jin felt it first. The abrupt dizziness that overcame him was not characteristic of his usual drunken state, and also came with a wave of tiredness. He felt like if he were to lean over on Namjoon’s shoulder, he could fall asleep right in the middle of the commotion of the party surrounding them. He was out of it, and was thinking to himself ‘something doesn’t feel right’ for far too long before finally shifting his zoned out gaze to Joon. His friend looked just as out of it.

Alarms were blaring in Jin’s mind to say something, get up and start looking for the rest of their friends and head back home, but his mind was processing all these sudden thoughts much too slowly. It felt like full minutes had passed before he finally was able to simply move his hand to grab onto Namjoon’s shoulder. Joon’s reaction was delayed, not that Seokjin noticed, and it took him a moment to make eye contact with his older friend.

“The… the others… let’s go,” was all Jin was able to get out. He wanted to say so much more, he wanted to voice all the panic flooding his mind, but his brain felt like it had turned to jello and all his thoughts were having difficulty moving through the thick substance. Jin could hardly even tell, but Joon was having a very similar experience. Namjoon was barely able to nod as the two stood up to search for the rest of the group.

The entire world seemed to tilt to one side as they stood, and they had to brace themselves on each other to get their bearings. They wanted to ask if the other was okay, they both had the mutual thought… but both were quickly losing the capacity to even form words.

Namjoon and Jin found all five of their friends in similar states to their own.

Namjoon had found Hoseok and Jungkook upstairs in a bedroom that appeared to be the designated room for hook-ups. Hoseok was sitting on the bed, his hands roaming over the body of the petite girl perched on top of him, but his face was vacant of emotion and his eyes weren’t anywhere near the half naked girl in his lap.

Jungkook was sitting on the opposite end of the bed to Hoseok getting… a bit more attention from the girl who’s head was in between his legs than Hoseok was. Along the same lines as Hoseok, by the look on his face you would have never been able to tell he was receiving a blowjob. If he weren’t so impaired, Joon would have certainly had more of an adverse reaction to what he walked in on, but with how much he was struggling to simply hold his own train of thought to find his friends, he couldn’t be bothered to do more than smack them both on the cheeks and tell them it was time to get going.

Now.

The girls they were hooking up with were very disgruntled by Namjoon’s intrusion and seeming disregard for their entire existence, but all Joon cared about for the time being was getting his friends out of the frat house.

Jin went to the basement first, because he knew that was where he’d find Yoongi. He was correct in his assumption, going downstairs to find his younger friend sprawled over a tattered couch surrounded by his obviously high friends. Yoongi looked like he was fighting to stay awake, head snapping up every time it lolled over to the side. Despite his tiredness he was still clutching onto the bong they had been using as if it were his lifeline, his other friends too high at that point to care he was hogging it without actually using it. Jin walked over to him and pried the glass from Yoongi’s sweaty hands, setting it aside on a table before taking Yoongi’s hand and pulling him to stand. Yoongi was trying to say something to him and Jin could tell, probably some sort of protest, but his words were just one big slurred mess.

Jin and Namjoon met outside at the front steps, instructing the three inebriated friends they’d dragged with them to stay there and wait. They still needed to find Taehyung and Jimin, Joon having not seen them upstairs and Jin not seeing them in the basement.

They ventured back into the cramped house, the world feeling as if it were moving too quickly around them as they tried to make their way through the masses of bodies surrounding them. Everything sounded like their ears were filled with water and the lights which were already dimmed for the sake of the party were much too bright.

After stumbling through the kitchen and going out to the backyard, they finally found Tae and Jimin. The couple was lying together in a hammock across the patio, Jimin on top of Taehyung with their limbs tangled together.

When Jin went over and nudged Tae’s shoulder, he responded slowly. Jin would have probably noticed the delayed reaction if he wasn’t having such trouble processing his own senses himself.

“Get up… leaving,” Joon grunted when he came up by Jin’s side, pushing lightly on Jimin’s shoulder. After another stretched out minute of thinking they all realized Jimin was unconscious in Tae’s arms, and such a realization to Taehyung was sobering.

Seokjin and Namjoon almost fell backwards at the speed with which Taehyung was out of the hammock and standing, carrying his boyfriend bridal style and expectantly looking at his older friends.

“Let’s get going.” Tae’s voice was shaky but he barely noticed it. He was fading as fast as the others, but he was vaguely aware that all of a sudden his entire purpose in the universe was to get Jimin home safely.

While he couldn’t properly voice the thought, Jin realized it would be better to walk around the perimeter of the house rather than try to go through the bustling party with Taehyung carrying Jimin. Instead of saying anything he just grabbed Namjoon and Tae’s sleeves, tugging them in the direction of the gate leading out of the backyard.

Once back out front, Namjoon went over to the three still sitting on the front steps as Tae and Jin began heading to the street. They were all sitting there with the same vacant expressions of their faces, and fighting to stay awake. Joon mumbled something incoherent and motioned for them to get up and follow, and after struggling to understand what he was getting at for two minutes too long, they got up and followed him towards the other three.

The walk home was like a fever dream. They were stumbling beside each other in a huddled group in the middle of the street, occasionally needing to stop one another from falling forward.

The worst part of the whole thing? The wordlessness.

The lack of communication between them might have been the most detrimental part of it all. They were each stuck in their own heads, telling themselves, ‘It’s just me, everything is fine, we just need to get home, I just need to sleep it off.’

It wasn’t even purely the fact that they were each convinced the fog in their minds was something they were only personally experiencing-- they probably wouldn’t have been able to voice an intelligible thought if they could think one.

A pair of headlights rounded a corner a few blocks down, following them from behind.

None of them noticed.

Jungkook was probably the odd one out here. While all of the others were solely focused on making it back to the house, using every ounce of their little remaining energy to keep from falling asleep right there in the middle of the street, Jungkook was hyper aware of everything going on-- and that was the scariest part for him.

He was aware of the haze clouding his mind to the point the simplest of thoughts were increasingly difficult. He was aware of the blood pounding in his ears so loud it almost hurt, yet at the same time was dampened by the way the functions of all his senses were diminishing. He was aware the entire world was spinning and blurry, feet knocking into each other as he was so disoriented he could barely move one in front of the other. He was aware of his heart rate, so fast it was almost as if it were vibrating in his chest. He was aware. He was way too aware, and it scared him even more that he couldn’t find any words to express his panicked state.

He knew he didn’t drink this much. He knew this wasn’t right. Every lucid part of his mind was screaming ‘Something is wrong, something is wrong, something is wrong!’ over, and over, and over again.

The headlights were drawing closer.

Yoongi went down first. He and Hoseok had been walking with their arms around each other, and when Yoongi suddenly collapsed under his own weight it was enough to drag Hobi down with him.

It was then that the headlights behind them stopped. It was time to wait, and watch.

What was happening in seconds was perceived as hours to those still standing. Tae tried to turn around when he heard the sound of bodies hitting ground, but shifting his vision caused him to trip over his own two feet. He crashed down, landing like deadweight on Jimin who was still out cold. Jungkook’s eyes widened, the screaming voice in his brain growing louder.

’Something is wrong! Something is wrong! Something is wrong!’

Jungkook and Jin watched helplessly as Namjoon leaned over to try and reach Yoongi and Hoseok, but that was all it took for him to collapse in a heap on top of them.

The youngest and the oldest made eye contact, holding each other’s gazes as their minds worthlessly tried to form some sort of cohesive thought. They just needed to say something, one of them just needed to think enough to--

Jungkook went down. Jin hadn’t even caught it at first, the delay of his perception so slowed he didn’t realize it happened until his eyes shifted down to Jungkook’s body which was now joining the others on the asphalt.

The headlights approached and pulled up besides them. The man driving was impatient. This was taking too long.

Jin staggered forward a few steps towards the van that had driven up to the side of the street. Oh how badly did Jin want to be thankful, did he want to show this stranger who had found them at such a dire time how grateful he was he stopped for them.

The man got out of the car, and Jin was hit over the head with something hard.

He was finally ready to begin setting up his game.

The walls of the room were cement bricks like you’d see in an unfinished basement, painted a pure intense white. They harshly reflected the LED lights hanging from the ceiling, flooding the room with an unnecessary amount of light. The floor was completely bare, plain concrete, and there were large metal doors on two walls opposite each other.

Hoseok woke up first.

Absolutely nothing felt right from the moment he began regaining consciousness. He couldn’t move, and he couldn’t remember much of anything after arriving at the party. As he started to come to, he became that aware something was in his mouth; it was oddly shaped and he thought possibly made of metal from the very vague taste he could get of it, bitter and foreign.

He tried to move his head, as if to roll over to the side, but it was no use. That was when he realized he couldn’t move his arms and legs either-- his wrists and ankles were bound holding him spread out like a starfish. The more he became aware of himself, the more he became aware of everything that was wrong. Whatever position he was in, he was upright, and he could only tell that from the way his legs and feet tingled with numbness, presumably from his blood rushing down to them.

It was like he was hung up, mounted on a wall like a hunter’s prized game.

He tried to open his eyes and he wasn’t sure what hurt more: the feeling of the layer of crust covering them ripping apart as he attempted to do so, or the bright white light that filled the room suddenly flooding his sensitive vision. The light itself nauseated him to the point where if he could, he might have doubled over.

Hoseok could barely make out whatever contraption was fixed on his head and partially shoved into his mouth out of his peripheral vision. He had to blink several times, long and slow before his eyes could even begin to focus on anything surrounding him. Once he started to glance around, the contents of the room he was in made him wish he had never opened his eyes.

The first thing his eyes settled on was Jungkook, or at least... his body.

The youngest member of the friend group was dangling in the center of the room directly in front of him with a thick rope around his neck fashioned into a noose. His neck was at a noticeably unnatural angle, and his back was to Hoseok.

It was probably better that way.

Hoseok had to blink a few more times, his brain refusing to comprehend the sight before him. He frantically attempted to look around the rest of the room for answers, maybe even answers he didn’t want, or maybe some sort of proof this was just some kind of fucked up dream, but his range of view was limited with the heavy metal device holding his head in place.

From what he could make out, four of his other friends were each slumped on the floor in four separate corners of the room: Yoongi and Namjoon were in the corners across from him he could tell, but the two in the corners closer to him were just out of sight. He had to assume it was Jimin and Seokjin, because a second later he realized that past Jungkook there was a table closer to the further wall. Taehyung was strapped down to the table with what looked like old fashioned medical restraints, and hanging above him were some sort of absurd blade-like weapons that looked like they were taken straight out of a medieval museum.

The four in the corners looked limp and lifeless, but if he focused hard enough Hobi could tell that they were still breathing. Thick, metal chains were fixated to rings at each corner of the room, and the end of each chain attached to what looked like collars around their necks.

Hoseok’s head was spinning, and this time it wasn’t from the lingering side effects of whatever drug he had been slipped at the party.

This had to be a dream, it had to be, he refused to believe otherwise. He had just gotten too fucked up and the alcohol was messing with him. This was all just some completely fucked up lucid dream.

Every part of him told him not to look at Jungkook, like he knew that if he looked at him again the sickening realization he didn’t want to admit to himself would hit him like a ton of bricks.

He looked anyway.

It was as if some part of him had expected something to change, had expected the body hanging before him to disappear like this all really was a dream… but it wasn’t.

Jungkook’s skin was waxy and taught, and Hoseok couldn’t pull his eyes away from the rope wrapped around his crooked neck… Hoseok was thankful he couldn’t see the younger’s face, if thankful were even a conceivable word in any aspect here.

Hobi tried to cry out. He tried to scream and yell, anything to get someone’s attention, to wake one of the others up. His attempts were pathetic; whatever was filling his mouth was making communication near impossible, but he tried anyway. His muscles strained and flexed as they pulled against the restraints pinning him to the wall, but it was no use. He had never felt so useless in his entire life.

Tears had began to well in his eyes from sheer frustration, but just then, two of his friends laying on the floor began to stir.

When Yoongi started to wake up, the first thing that hit him was his pounding headache. He was never one for hangovers, so that was his first clue that something was wrong before he even opened his eyes. What further pulled him into consciousness was Jimin’s sudden screaming from across the room. Yoongi groggily began trying to sit up, hands flying to the heavy weighted, collar-like brace around his neck. Visions of the night before started to flood into his mind, but he soon realized there was a distinct cut off point where everything became blurry and he couldn’t remember anything after it. He vaguely remembered someone offering him LSD... He never thought he’d try hallucinogenic drugs but-

“Yoongi? Yoongi please tell me you’re awake, god please wake up.”

Yoongi didn’t even realize he was still half rolling around on the floor with his eyes closed until Namjoon’s voice cut into his own thoughts. Yoongi finally peeled his eyelids open, his eyes shooting right past Namjoon and to Jungkook’s body hanging in the center of the room.

“What the fu… did I fucking take the LSD last night? Is this real? Am I still fucked u- OW WHAT THE FUCK?”

Namjoon cut off Yoongi’s rambling with a sharp slap to the cheek.

“Fucking pull yourself together Min, take a look around you. This isn’t the time for your idiotic drug addict bullshit,” Namjoon hissed, getting back up walking more towards his own corner of the room. Yoongi was still trying to wrap his head around everything as he slowly stood upon shaky legs, taking a moment to take in his surroundings.

Jimin looked like he was in physical pain from how hard he was trying to hold back tears, having realized it was impossible for him to reach Taehyung with the metal collar chaining him to the corner of the room. Taehyung was strapped down to what looked like a table you’d see in a doctor’s office, only much dirtier and dingier than what would be in any sane modern day medical facility. Jin and Namjoon were both pacing, Joon occasionally trying to communicate with Hoseok, who Yoongi realized was bound to the wall opposite the side Tae was more towards. Yoongi couldn’t even begin to explain whatever apparatus was bound to Hoseok’s face, and he could feel his heart lurch at the sight of his friend in such a helpless position.

That was when reality really started to set in for Yoongi, because that was when his eyes once again made their way towards Jungkook. It was at that point that Yoongi doubled over, vomiting up the little contents that had been in his stomach all over the concrete floor besides him.

Taehyung didn’t know what was more terrifying: the huge blades hanging above him, or not being able to see enough of the room to fully get a feel for what was going on. There was a restraint similar to the ones on his wrists and ankles over his neck, and it was so tight it was almost a bit difficult to breathe and made turning his head impossible. He could just barely see the body hanging in the center of the room out of his peripheral vision, but from the mumbles and cries he could hear coming from his friends, he could tell he didn’t want to see it in the slightest. What was making his heart hurt the most was the sound of his boyfriend’s sobbing, which he recognized far too easily. He wanted to hold his lover and tell him everything was going to be okay, that they’d find a way out… even if he wasn’t too sure in those statements himself.

Taehyung hated feeling powerless, and everything about being strapped to that table made it probably the worst possible position he could have been put into.

“G-guys I…” Taehyung was surprised at first by the hoarseness of his voice, but then again, he really had no idea how long they’d been out for, so it probably shouldn’t have been such a shock. “Please… please can someone… can anyone please just t-tell me what’s going on?” His voice was shaking as he spoke. Being unable to see anything clearly other than the menacing blades hanging above him, he felt so out of the loop. He could hardly make out the jumbled conversations going on between the others, but thought hopefully they were in better positions than he, and maybe knew what was going on.

“They probably can’t, but I can.”

Everyone jumped slightly at the sudden voice, then immediately froze. It sounded as if it were coming over a shoddy speaker system, like you’d hear in a department store that probably had the money for better equipment but chose to not spend it.

“What’s going on you fucking cock sucker, what did you do to Jungkook?” Yoongi spat, looking as if he were ready to lunge at the anonymous voice addressing them. The others all visibly winced at the mention of the elephant in the room; of course Yoongi was the most ballsy and would demand an explanation right away while all the others were still having difficulties facing reality. Seokjin rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, be a dick to the one who’s probably behind all this. Min Yoongi, everybody,” he grumbled, shooting a glare towards Yoongi’s corner of the room. They all knew Yoongi was the most stubborn of the group, but this really wasn’t the time for him to be showing it.

“Oh don’t worry, I have plenty of answers for you,” the voice chuckled. “Actually, I also have a set rules, and this is going to be a fun little game for us all.”

Okay, now he had their attention. Jin, Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin all nervously looked between one another, a thick tension suddenly filling the room.

“Last night at your stupid little frat party, a student at your university I am currently mentoring assisted me by slipping you all Ketamine at some point after your arrival. Honestly you all made this a bit too easy for me; I told him I was looking for a group of 6-8 people with already relatively close relationships, and he knew you seven would be the perfect participants.”

It was sickening how obvious it was that this man was amused by all of this just from his tone of voice. If their heads weren’t already spinning from the situation as a whole, they most certainly were now. Just the thought that someone who had been at the party with them last night, one of their peers, maybe even a friend was working with the horrible man doing this… all of their stomachs were churning.

“Now, I take a lot of pride in my games, and they usually require a lot of elaborate setup. I guess my student misjudged your one friend’s weight and didn’t give him a high enough dose and well uh…” he paused and sighed, almost as if fiending disappointment. “He woke up much too soon, right in the middle of my preparation. Brat put up a hell of a fight, I’ll give him that, but I couldn’t have him ruining my game so early on. It’s bad enough I had to suddenly make last minute adjustments to account for one less player, so I decided to just take care of him right then and there. I figured he’d make a nice little reminder for you that I make the rules here.”

Player. God the way the used the word ‘player’ was enough to send another bought of fear coursing through their veins. Namjoon squeezed his eyes shut, having to squat down and put his head in his hands. The thought of Jungkook fighting to protect his friends was too much, and Joon didn’t even want to listen to whatever else this monster had to say.

“But anyways, let’s get right into the fun stuff,” he continued, voice perking up a bit like he was excited for what was to come. “The first game you’ll play involves your friend on the wall.” Their eyes drifted over to Hoseok, who looked like he was visibly starting to panic. “All of my traps and games will result in either life, or death, with no negotiation.”

Before he could even go on, they all began looking between one another again and shifting uncomfortably-- especially Hoseok and Taehyung in the most helpless positions. They couldn’t even convince themselves at this point this was all a joke; Jungkook’s body was serving exactly the purpose it was intended to.

“However, through cooperation and teamwork, you can all possibly get out of here alive… just don’t let the stress get to you too quickly. Our first few games are timed, so try to stay level headed, alright boys?” He spoke as if he really had pure intentions of helping them all escape with the advice, and his false kindness made them all feel even more sick.

“Once I am done speaking, a timer will begin counting down 30 minutes. My invention currently attached to your friend’s head is spring loaded and secured to both his upper and lower jaws from inside his mouth. After 30 minutes is up, if you four on the chains have not succeeded in disarming the device, his mouth will be permanently ripped open. Think of it like a... reverse bear trap.”

Hoseok made a strangled sobbing noise. Yoongi, Jimin, Namjoon and Seokjin felt like their stomachs were tied in knots.

“To disarm it, you will need to use the items I’ve left for you on the table underneath your friend in the middle of the room.” Their eyes shot to the table under Jungkook which they hadn’t even noticed until mentioned. “You should see a scale and two knives. The scale is connected to the timer counting down for the reverse bear trap to go off. Fill the scale with a combined pound of your own flesh, cut off your bodies with the knives, and the device unlocks.”

Yoongi hunched over like he was going to start throwing up again.

“Don’t even bother trying to approach him, or your friend strapped to the table yet. I assure you there is no other way to free them from their confinements, so I suggest you don’t waste your time.” Again, his ‘advice’ did nothing but anger and upset them all more.

“Once the device is either disarmed or goes off,” he paused, and they could practically hear him smiling at the thought of his invention being put to use. “Your collars will unlock and you will be allowed to roam freely. Another 30 minute timer will begin however, this one for your friend on the table. I like to call his ‘The Pendulum’.”

He sounded so proud of his clever little name for his trap, and the shift of focus to Taehyung made Jimin’s stomach lurch.

“The blades above him will begin slowly swinging and lowering. If you don’t free him soon enough, well… they won’t stop until they’ve hit the the table.” He was interrupted momentarily by Jimin trying to hold back a cry, but he went on speaking anyway.

“The key to unlock his restraints is inside of your friend with the peachy hair.”

Yoongi, Jimin and Seokjin’s eyes all flew to Namjoon, who immediately went pale.

“I guess he could try purging it back up, but it’s honestly probably been too long since I lodged it down his throat. It’s most likely at least to his small intestine by now.”

Now it was Namjoon’s turn to double over, feeling as if he was going to be sick. They all already knew where this was going.

“You’re allowed to use the knives already on the table if needed, but do whatever you wish to retrieve the key.” He paused and chuckled again. They all felt like they were going to explode if they heard that chuckle one more time.

“Once your friend under The Pendulum is either freed or killed, there will be a break before any more timed traps. I will speak to you again then.”

There was another interruption in his speech, as if he were pausing for dramatic effect. He let the reality of the situation weigh heavily on all of them briefly, but they would never be near ready to process the severity of any of this ‘game’.

“Alright boys, I would say let the games begin but uh...” the ominous voice chuckled darkly, and the five pairs of eyes which could immediately went to their young friend’s body still dangling right in front of them like some sort of fucked up carnival prize.

“It appears they already have.”

There was a loud clicking noise coming from near Hobi; the timer had begun.

Something inside of Yoongi shifted. He didn’t think twice before going over to the table in the center of the room and picking up one of the knives.

“Do you guys think this is going to be easier if we do it for each other? Or on our own?” His heart was racing as he looked towards the other three who were supposed to be helping, but they were all standing there, unmoving.

“Y-yoongi you’re seriously gonna-” Jimin began, but Yoongi was quick to cut him off.

“Stop wasting time and get over here! Do you fucking see Jungkook?! Does it look like we have a choice?!” Yoongi tried to keep his voice steady and harsh, but he failed and it cracked. All the panic he was feeling was showing no matter how hard he tried to suppress it, hands shaking as he held the knife. Yoongi couldn’t even look towards Hoseok, he just wanted to focus on freeing him. He knew that if he looked over and saw the fear in his best friend’s eyes, his heart would break and he wouldn’t be able to concentrate.

“He’s right we… fuck we have to,” Jin choked out, some common sense starting to come over him. He went up to the table near Yoongi, and Namjoon did the same. Jimin stayed back, almost as if he were paralyzed in his corner of the room.

“I-I remember some major arteries I learned in anatomy… The best way to do this is probably to focus near our shoulders and the backs of our thighs…” Yoongi was racking his brain for more information, suddenly really regretting sleeping through half of his required science course sophomore year. “They’re fleshy but don’t have huge arteries…. I think….” He added the second part in a whisper. “We should stay away from our calves and biceps… too much bleeding…” His voice got even quieter, clenching the blade tightly in his hand.

“Do… do you want one of us to-” Namjoon hesitantly reached out for one of the knives, but was interrupted by Jimin finally joining them at the table.

“Stop it! You aren’t seriously going to… to do that to him are you?!” Jimin faltered, but Namjoon grabbed the knife and ignored Jimin’s words.

“Yoongi, take your pants off and we’ll focus on a shoulder first, that way we can use the pants as tourniquets maybe? Cut them up into strips?” Jin was trying to think rationally like Yoongi, but Jimin was clearly growing too anxious and he began crying again. He was far too overwhelmed to come to terms with everything going on. Yoongi nodded at Jin’s words and began undoing his pants with shaky hands, Namjoon and Jin waiting to cut up the material. Jimin watched in horror as the three began cutting up the clothing with the knives, in disbelief over what they were about to do.

“Are you gonna fucking help or not Park? Hoseok doesn’t have much time,” Yoongi’s voice cracked again. Jimin blinked a few times, clearly having the most trouble out of the four trying accepting reality. After a moment, he slowly began helping ripping up strips of fabric.

“Joon, w-will you… fuck I don’t think I could do it to myself but we… we have to…” Yoongi ran his hand nervously over one of his own shoulders trying to mentally process… how the fuck does one willingly go about cutting off a piece of their own flesh? Namjoon’s eyes widened a bit, nervously glancing over to Jin.

“Namjoon if you can’t… maybe I could…” Jin let out a heavy breath, running a hand hastily through his hair.

“Fuck please just someone do it,” Yoongi’s voice broke again as he held out his shoulder. “W-we have to start or… or we won’t… we won’t finish…” he choked out, not even wanting to consider the possibility of Hoseok’s potential outcome. Namjoon wordlessly passed the knife over to Jin, not sure he could be the first one to go.

Jin gripped the knife firmly, using his free hand to steady Yoongi’s arm. Yoongi looked away from his shoulder; he could usually handle pain pretty well, but he knew this was going to be on a whole new level, and he didn’t want to see a second of it. He didn’t need the mental image of one of his best friends slicing off a piece of his own arm burned into his mind for the rest of his life. Namjoon offered his hand to Yoongi, and he took it and squeezed it, hard.

“Jimin, tie off the top of his shoulder with a piece of his pants. We can use the rest of the fabric as a bandage after I… um…” Jin let his words hang in the air, nodding towards the pile of fabric they had cut from Yoongi’s jeans. Jimin’s breath hitched in his throat and he hesitated, but did as he was instructed.

Minutes had passed, too many minutes. They were all spending too much time thinking, and not enough time doing.

“A-alright Yoongi are you rea-”

“Seokjin please just fucking do it,” Yoongi’s voice was strained from how hard he was clenching his jaw in preparation for the pain to come. Jimin tightened the knot of the makeshift tourniquet one last time before giving a subtle nod to Jin.

As he first began to press the blade of the knife into the pale skin of his friend’s shoulder, it was much more difficult to cut than Jin anticipated it would be. He told himself it had to be some sort of mental blockage; there was no way it was any harder to cut through human flesh than it would be to cut any other sort of meat, right? He took a deep breath, shaken from his thoughts by the pained hiss Yoongi let out.

“Fuck fuck fuck please just get it over with fuck please,” Yoongi choked out. Namjoon winced quietly from how hard Yoongi was grasping his hand, but of course he wasn’t going to complain.

“I’m going I’m going,” Jin replied shakily, continuing to make the cut, but this time applying a bit more pressure.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jimin stammered, peeling his eyes away from the rush of blood dripping down Yoongi’s arm. Yoongi knew exactly what Jimin meant, he could feel it: the oozing blood making it’s way down over his forearm to his fingertips, dripping onto the floor.

Eventually Jin did it, throwing the piece he’d cut off onto the scale as fast as he could-- he didn’t think he could stomach to hold it for much longer than he had to. Namjoon immediately released Yoongi’s hand, grabbing more of the ripped up pants to quickly fashion a bandage for his friend.

“Fuck that hurt just as much as you’d fucking think it would holy shit holy fuck,” Yoongi groaned, stumbling slightly from the severity of the pain. Jin had to try and hold him up as Joon worked on stopping as much of the bleeding as he could. Jimin had to force himself to tear his eyes away from the gaping hole he had just watched his friend gouge into his other friend’s own flesh, instead glancing at the number on the scale.

It was more than he expected, but it wasn’t enough.

Time was ticking away and they all silently knew it, wishing they had a way of knowing exactly how much was actually left.

Once Joon felt he had wrapped Yoongi’s arm up as best he could, Yoongi took a step back and shook out his arm as if it were a much less severe injury. He looked over at the scale hopefully, mouth immediately hanging open.

“That’s it?! Jesus christ it felt like you cut my whole goddamn arm off!!” He cried, throwing his unharmed arm up in frustration. Jin frowned and ran his hand through his hair, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Yoongi I did what I could it’s…” he paused and licked his dry lips nervously. “It’s a lot harder than you probably think.”

Yoongi grumbled something to himself, pacing back and forth and few steps.

“Well? Who’s going next?” He asked bluntly, eyes jumping between the other three. They all glanced around nervously at each other before looking down at the ground, realizing none of them were prepared to volunteer to go next. Yoongi gaped at them, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He scoffed, picking up one of the knives and glaring at them. “I swear to god if one of you doesn’t offer yourselves I’m just gonna-”

“Yoongi stop, this is exactly what he wants,” Namjoon held his hands up in defense. “He wants us to get mad, turn on each other. But we need to stay as calm as we can and focus on-”

“Your focus should fucking be on saving your friend’s life Namjoon,” Yoongi spat, eyes filling with rage fueling from his frustration.

“Yoongi, he’s probably right,” Jimin barely whispered, keeping his eyes low and away from Yoongi’s fury filled ones.

“Oh, so now you have something to say Jimin? I don’t see you jumping up to help get Hoseok out of that-”

“Guys please stop,” Jin cut Yoongi off, but it was no use. The stress of the situation was finally getting to a breaking point, snapping something inside of Yoongi. Before Seokjin could say anything else, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jimin were all bickering around him, and Jin ended up getting in on it too. Insults and harsh words were flying about, getting so lost in the argument even more time slipped away from them.

At some point Yoongi’s eyes flicked over towards Hoseok, who looked void of any and all emotion from his position on the wall. He looked as if he had accepted his fate.

“Guys… guys!” Yoongi raised his voice, finally putting an end to the fighting.

“If one of you doesn’t just volunteer just… just fucking start on my leg or something… we’re running out of time!” His voice sounded strangled, so unbelievably desperate to get his best friend out of that… thing. There was a moment of silence, only filled with Yoongi’s heavy breathing from how worked up he was.

Yoongi and Hoseok’s friendship went back even before university. They grew up in the same hometown and attended the same high school, both sort of outcasts in their own ways who naturally gravitated towards one another. It wasn’t surprising to anyone that they’d decide to go to the same college as well, like two peas in a pod, never straying too far from one another.

Bile rose in Yoongi’s throat at the thought of getting out of that place, and not being able to take Hoseok with them.

“You’re right Yoongi,” Jin mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. “Here, why don’t you guys do my leg instead. I guess the back of the thigh like Yoongi said would-”

There was another audible click from near Hoseok.

It’s a part of human nature to turn your attention towards any loud or unanticipated sound, and that’s exactly what all four of them did out of pure instinct. In return, they all got to witness the reverse bear trap in its full glory.

What they saw was nothing they would have ever willingly watched.

The amount of blood that flew towards them was part of what startled them the most, splattering so far it was almost impressive in a sickening way.

And the sound… oh god the sound… the crack... It was nothing compared to the sound of a regular bone breaking, there was more… more ripping.

Jimin immediately screamed and began sobbing, burying his face in his hands to shield his eyes from the horrific sight before them. Yoongi fell to his knees, every ounce of willpower in his body to keep going completely drained away in a matter of seconds. Namjoon and Seokjin stared at one another, trying to do anything but listen to the sounds still coming from Hoseok, a heart wrenching realization washing over them all that this death was not quick, or painless.

Their time to react to Hoseok was brief, shaken from their short -lived grief with another click, this time from Tae’s side of the room.

The blades began swinging.

Taehyung had stayed quiet through the whole ordeal of attempting to free Hoseok. By what he was able to hear he could only imagine everything that was going on, and there were silent tears streaming down his cheeks. He squeezed his eyes shut when the blades above him started moving, hope of being saved diminishing by the second-- if they couldn’t handle what they needed to do for Hobi… Taehyung had to admit to himself that he wasn’t sure they’d be able to do it for him either.

Part of him tried so very hard to hold onto the tiniest little bit of hope that Jimin would make all the difference.

It was then that the collars around their necks suddenly unlocked, just as they’d been told they would, and Jin, Namjoon, and Jimin all took them off and threw them as far as they could into their respective corners. Yoongi’s brows furrowed, hands reaching up and fiddling with the thick metal.

“What the… mine… mine isn’t coming off.” His voice sounded pathetically weak from the emotions caught in his throat as he tried to push Hobi out of his mind. Despite how badly he wanted to give up, he knew this was no time to quit… he still had four other friends and his own life to help save.

“Hey what the fuck?!” Namjoon yelled, looking around the room for whatever source their kidnapper had previously addressed them from. “You said that after that thing went off-” Yoongi stood up and waved his hands as if to shush Namjoon, though his face was still slightly twisted in confusion as his fingers tried to work around the metal constricting his neck.

“Just don’t fucking worry about this stupid thing right now I can still help… We can’t let time get away from us this time.” Yoongi swallowed around the lump in his throat as his eyes accidentally found their way to Hoseok’s now almost completely limp body, tearing them away to shift his focus to Taehyung.

The moment Jimin was out of the collar and able to walk around, he was by Taehyung’s side. Jimin started sobbing again and buried his face in Taehyung’s chest, which caused Tae’s heart to shatter into a million pieces.

“Baby, please,” Tae’s voice was strained, wanting nothing more than to be able to caress Jimin’s cheek in that moment. “Please, if you stay over here by me how will you even be able to help get me out?” There was a sad attempt at playfulness to his tone, an attempt which miserably failed.

Jimin sniffled a few times before standing up, backing away from Taehyung and going against every fiber of his being telling him not to leave his side. Jimin realized the blades were most certainly descending, and it wasn’t even safe for him to stay so close. He leaned in to press a quick yet passionate kiss to his lover’s lips before walking back over to the other three. They were mumbling to each other huddled near Yoongi, since obviously he couldn’t move around as much as the others.

All of the emotions, fear, worry, and tension that had once filled the room so thickly they made it difficult to breathe were now gone. Everyone’s brains were so fried from overstimulation and exhaustion that it would take too much energy to do anything other than focus on doing what needed to be done.

“S-sorry I-I was just-” Jimin began sputtering but Seokjin cut him off.

“Don’t worry Jimin it’s fine,” he spoke flatly, staring at Yoongi with a look Jimin couldn’t quite read. Namjoon was pacing back and forth next to them, one hand running over his face and the other tightly wound into his own hair. Jimin frowned, a feeling of uneasiness settling in his stomach; clearly the other three had been discussing their next move extensively in the short time he went over by his boyfriend.

“Jimin we um… we’re gonna need your help more this time,” Seokjin licked his lips, trying to think of the right words.

“We… we uh…” Yoongi coughed, not ready to say out loud what had already been decided. “Namjoon said he wants me to try and cut the key out of him.”

Jimin’s eyes cartoonishly widened. There were so many words being left unsaid between the group… so many realities no one wanted to even begin to accept.

“N-Namjoon are… are you sure?” Jimin didn’t even know why he bothered asking something so obvious. He knew his older friend well enough to know this was most definitely a decision he felt sure of, and Jimin could tell by the way Namjoon was anxiously pacing.

Namjoon knew that there were very few ways this could end for him, and if saving one of his friends was one of the results, he wanted it to end that way. His heart felt heavy with the knowledge he hadn’t done enough to save Hoseok… that none of them even had the chance to do anything for Jungkook… he wasn’t going to let Taehyung fall victim to the same fate.

“Come on, we’re wasting time,” Namjoon breathed, going towards the table they had only deserted moments before. He accidentally looked at Jungkook’s face while he approached, wincing audibly. The other three solemnly followed him, each still having trouble themselves ignoring their young friend’s body hanging right before them.

Seokjin explained to Jimin that it was going to be the two of them to hold Namjoon down, and Yoongi was going to do all the dirty work.

“He’s probably going to try to flail a lot… it’s going to be hard,” Jin stated, looking into Jimin’s eyes for any sign of hesitation. Jimin was visibly scared, but Jin wasn’t sure if it was over what they were about to take part in, or knowing how the potential result of the following event was going to either save or kill his boyfriend.

The group of four settled on the floor, Namjoon lying shirtless between Seokjin and Jimin, and Yoongi kneeling to one side of Namjoon’s torso. Jin had both of his arms wrapped securely around Joon’s legs, and Jimin had his arms under Joon’s shoulders to hold his arms tightly above his head. Yoongi clutched the knife firmly, not even knowing where to begin.

“Yoongi, you’re wasting time,” Namjoon’s voice sounded heart breakingly defeated. A small part of him was still trying to convince himself that the quicker they did this, the quicker they’d get Taehyung out, the quicker they’d be told what to do next in order to escape, and maybe if it all happened fast enough they’d be able to get him to an emergency facility before he bled out.

A larger part of him knew that was very unlikely.

It was Namjoon’s words that shifted Yoongi into gear. He had already lost two friends today, and if they didn’t do this to Namjoon, that would undeniably make four.

Yoongi knew that by doing this they could get Tae out, and saving one life was better than losing two.

Yoongi did everything almost robotically, mind numb at that point to everything going on. Jimin couldn’t look, just holding Namjoon’s arms as tightly as he could and not focusing on the pained sounds coming from his friend. Unfortunately in such a position Jimin was vulnerable to Namjoon’s clawing and grabbing hands, which were obviously instinctively trying to stop what was happening to him. Jin actually watched, death grip on Namjoon’s legs unfaltering.

Yoongi thought maybe if he focused his vision solely on what was directly in front of him, he could try and convince himself he was working on a farm or some shit and gutting an animal. Within moments of beginning the task couldn’t even kid himself.

Who in their right mind would do something like this to an animal without putting a bullet through it’s skull first? Even slaughterers treated their meat more humanely than the way Yoongi’s trembling hands were digging through Namjoon’s insides.

In hindsight, Namjoon wondered why he hadn’t asked them to just kill him first.

Yoongi’s only reaction to finding the key was the parting of his lips, and Jin looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to make the cut necessary to fully remove it.

It dawned on Yoongi, sitting on the cold cement floor with his hands literally inside of his friend’s body, that the final cut would be the most fatal one. If he took the key out of Namjoon’s body, any and all hope of saving his life even if they got out quick enough would be gone. Yoongi hadn’t opened any of his internal organs yet, but he could feel the hardness of the key as his fingers pressed against the walls of Namjoon’s intestines.

He needed to cut open his intestinal wall to remove the key.

A stifled sob came from Jimin. Seokjin ripped his eyes away from Namjoon’s insides to see what had caused the sound from Jimin, realizing the younger had been watching the blades which were slowly lowering towards his boyfriend this whole time.

And they were getting close.

“Done.” Yoongi’s hands were trembling as he held up the key, the small piece of once tinted gold metal now coated in a thick layer of blood. Jimin abruptly let go of Namjoon’s arms, snatching the key from Yoongi’s fingers and running over to Taehyung’s side.

Jimin’s hands were shaking almost as bad as Yoongi’s as he fumbled with the key in the locks of Taehyung’s restraints, the slippery blood making the task all the more difficult. The moment every restraint was removed Taehyung rolled off the table, the blades mere inches from his body by that point; if he had sat up just the slightest bit they would have gone right into him.

Jimin and Taehyung collapsed onto the floor in each other’s arms. Tae didn’t think he’d ever held his lover so tightly than he did in that moment, Jimin’s smaller body wracking with sobs.

Seokjin and Yoongi stayed silent, the tiniest of waves of relief coming over them knowing nothing for the moment was time sensitive.

Freed from his confinements, Taehyung stood up (after giving Jimin a moment to collect himself) and was finally able to see everything he had missed from his position on the table which had obscured his view.

He felt like he was going to faint as his eyes jumped around the room, thankful Jimin was by his side to catch him as he stumbled. He saw their centerpiece first: Jungkook’s body. Taehyung had been able to see it from the beginning, barely out of his peripheral vision, but fully coming face to face with it now was like nothing he could have ever began to prepare himself for. His eyes then made their way just past his youngest friend to Hoseok.

The horrifying sight before him of his friend’s mutilated face was almost enough to make him wish he were still strapped to the table.

It was when he finally looked over to where Yoongi and Seokjin were still kneeling on the floor that Taehyung felt sobs bubbling up in his throat.

The image of Namjoon lying on the floor, unmoving, abdomen crudely ripped apart, surrounded by a pool of his own blood, was one which would haunt Taehyung’s dreams for the rest of his waking days... but more so from the knowledge that Namjoon had put himself in that position willingly to save Taehyung’s own life.

Taehyung’s head was spinning, and Jimin had to hold an arm firmly around his boyfriend’s waist to keep him upright. Tae had so many questions, yet he already had answers for many of them. He had been conscious the whole time on the table, he heard everything that had gone on perfectly clear… he just didn’t want to admit any of it was really happening.

Three of his closest friends in the whole world were dead, and there was absolutely nothing he could have done to help save them.

The anguish of such a realization was like a knife directly through his heart, and actually caused him physical pain (which was probably more so from the fact that his body was currently going into full blown panic mode). His hand reached up and clutched at his chest as he glanced towards Yoongi and Seokjin on the floor near Namjoon. He usually looked to his older friends for guidance, but he had never seen them look so weak and defeated in his entire life. It was mortifying.

Yoongi stared into the space in front of him, completely detached from the world around them. He clenched his hands into fists then flexed them all the way out, repeating the action several times. The thick coating of Namjoon’s blood on his skin was starting to dry, and he was mindful of the way it made his fingers stick together. He felt dirty, and it wasn’t from the copious amounts of blood stained all over his body.

There was so much mourning to be done between the four, so many emotions they would never be able to properly handle or release, but the solemn mood was cut far too short. There was a sound coming from the further side of the room where Hoseok’s body was still mounted on the wall. One of the industrial metal doors, both of which had almost been entirely forgotten about until that moment, made a sort of whirring noise like lock mechanisms were being opened.

The group of four looked at each other curiously. They knew their kidnapper said they would receive further instruction after a short break, so no one was sure if approaching the door was a good idea.

A heavy silence hung over them for minutes and no one moved, almost as if all the mental and physical exhaustion had paralyzed them.

“Should… should we open it?” Jimin’s voice was barely above a whisper, even more strained than it had been before from the sobbing that had overcome him when he finally got to Taehyung. Seokjin stood up.

“He’s gotta say something if we go in there… right?” He proposed, nodding for the couple to follow him since Yoongi was still bound to his corner of the room. The room seemed even more eerily quiet than it had ever been as the sound of Jin’s boots scuffing against the concrete echoed around them. Taehyung gave Jimin’s hand a reassuring squeeze before pulling him along to follow Jin.

The door was uncomfortably close to Hoseok’s body, and it took all of their willpower to not look at it. Jin grabbed onto the wide handle of the door, thankful once he realized that opening it would block their view of Hobi’s body. He lugged the door open, and four hearts immediately dropped at the sound of a timer somewhere in the room starting, a sound they were sad they recognized and had heard too many times already.

“What the fuck!” Yoongi suddenly screamed and three pairs of eyes looked over to him, stomachs tying into knots over the new site they were faced with.

In Yoongi’s corner of the room, where the chain his collar was attached to connected to the wall, two horrifyingly large blades had projected from the corners of the walls parallel to the floor. Yoongi was now standing, realizing his chain was shortening and he was being pulled towards the blades which were perfectly level with his neck.

He was being dragged in to be beheaded.

Before anyone else could say anything over Yoongi’s distraughtness, a bone-chilling voice filled the room again.

“Ah, I see you triggered the next timer! Did you enjoy your break?” His voice was sickeningly sweet, but not enough of a facade to begin mildly fooling any of them. Yoongi was moving at a sluggish pace, but it didn’t matter to the other three, they had already all too painfully learned that time really was of the essence.

Jin and Jimin were staring at Yoongi with gaping mouths, but Tae was getting impatient waiting for further instruction. He wanted to know how to get Yoongi out, and he wanted to know now.

Taehyung let go of Jimin’s hand and stuck his head into the room through the door which Jin had just opened, but was immediately confused by what he was faced with. The room was small and simply contained a folding table with some sort of tank on it. It was about the size of a 20 gallon fish tank, filled almost halfway with what looked like razor blades. Only razor blades… what looked like probably hundreds of razor blades… and also filled to the very brim with liquid.

“Your friend will continue to move at this pace, and I’m actually not sure how long it will take for his head to be removed.” Seokjin and Jimin snapped out of their trance and joined Taehyung, trying to hear whatever their kidnapper was attempting to explain to them over Yoongi’s confused cries for help.

“His collar can only be removed with a key, a key which lays at the bottom of that fish tank. But if you-”

Taehyung didn’t wait for any further instruction, stepping forward and going to plunge his hand directly in. He could handle a bloody hand if it meant saving Yoongi. He needed to do something, he needed to be of some sort of help, still feeling powerless from not being able to do anything previously.

Seokjin stopped him, grabbing Tae’s arm and roughly yanking him back.

“Let him finish talking you idiot!” Jin scolded, and the voice just laughed.

“Ah, so eager, but your friend is right,” he explained, chuckling darkly. “The liquid filling the tank along with those razors is my own personal concoction, but what you mainly need to be worried about is the high concentration of cyanide. Anyone here take chemistry?”

They could hear it in his voice, that smirk again. He was being smug, he knew exactly what he was doing, and he was loving every second of it.

It was all part of his game.

“You need to maneuver around those razor blades carefully. Even the slightest nick will allow my wonderful mixture access to your bloodstream, and keep an open wound submerged too long and well…” He paused for another chuckle. That fucking chuckle.

“Cyanide suffocates from the inside out, starving your blood cells of oxygen. Let those oxygen lacking cells become too numerous and get to your brain? Cardiac arrest and a coma are sure to ensue, usually within moments. A beautifully painful way to go from when I’ve witnessed it occur.”

Taehyung already felt like he was suffocating, choking on a lump stuck in his throat. If Seokjin hadn’t stopped him…

“So I suggest taking your time retrieving that key!” His voice was almost sing-song-like. He stayed quiet for a second, long enough for Yoongi’s loud mouth cursing up a rage filled storm in the other room to ring through their ears once more.

“But not too much time.”

There was no time to think strategy, not with the unknown element of how long they really had to save Yoongi. For a split second Seokjin considered how eager Taehyung had been to stick his hands in the tank at first, but now knowing what was at stake, Jin knew his younger friend would not be fit for the task. Tae was impatient, and would undoubtedly try to go too fast and cut himself up on the razors.

“I’m doing it,” Jin stated, stepping up to the tank and dipping his hand in. It wasn’t a question; Seokjin felt that out of the three of them he’d perform the best at this sort of thing, and a subconscious part of him also knew he shouldn’t ask the couple to separate themselves so soon after being reunited.

“Seokjin wait please! I wanted to-” Jin wouldn’t give Tae time to speak, plus he already had his hand in the liquid almost elbow deep.

“This isn’t up for debate, please just be quiet and let me focus,” Jin mumbled. His fingertips began delicately pushing at some of the more superficial blades, testing to see how easy or difficult this was going to be.

Difficult. He determined very quickly it was going to be difficult.

“Jin, please be careful,” Jimin whispered, one hand anxiously clutching onto the fabric of Taehyung’s t-shirt. He was fully aware of how stupidly pointless it was for him to say, but the silence hanging over them as Jin attempted to focus was deafening. Even Yoongi had gone quiet, having heard all of their kidnapper’s instructions and being able to partially see what was going on past Tae and Jimin’s bodies blocking his view of Seokjin through the doorway of the small room.

Now it was Yoongi’s turn to feel helpless. For a control freak like him, being in a position where his fate solely lied in the hands on others was mind numbingly difficult to process. He was also a realist however, and gave up his frantic yelling the moment he began to realize he had no choice in the situation at hand.

All he could do was wait, choosing to keep his back to the blades he knew were gradually inching closer to his neck.

After the first full minute, Tae couldn’t handle it. He stepped forward away from Jimin and went up to Jin’s side.

“Seokjin please, maybe I can help. Just let me try and-”

“Taehyung shut up!” Jin snapped, not nearly intending on sounding as harsh as he did, but he was really feeling the pressure and didn’t need a presence so close to his side making things more stressful. Jimin reached out and pulled Tae back towards him closer to the doorway, snaking his arms around his boyfriend’s waist to keep him in place. Taehyung’s body immediately felt compelled to relax into Jimin, so used to usually just being able to melt their bodies together into one, but there wasn’t a single cell inside of him at the moment with the ability to relax even if he wanted to.

Jin hadn’t ever concentrated so hard on a single task in his entire life. It seemed there was no way to do it correctly, his fingers fearful of accidentally applying too much pressure or making a wrong move.

“Guys… how’s it looking?” Yoongi’s voice was a surprise to all, but Jin didn’t shift his focus away from his hand inside of the tank. Jimin and Taehyung looked back at their older friend, and Jimin’s eyes widened when he realized how close Yoongi was getting to the blades.

They both turned back around towards Jin. Yoongi was moving faster than they previously thought, and was getting too close for comfort.

The couple didn’t say anything, realizing Yoongi probably hadn’t been facing the wall on purpose. They didn’t want to give away on their faces or in their voices the hopelessness that had come over them when they turned to look at him, but Jimin’s eyes widening the slightest was enough. All the answers Yoongi needed were embedded in the silence from their lack of response.

Yoongi’s knees began shaking slightly, and he was actually kind glad the two had turned back around. He was the type of guy who still needed to hold onto some sort of pride in any situation, even if it was the most miniscule amount. He would have felt humiliated if they had seen the look of defeat that had washed over his face.

It was the look of someone so weak and beaten down, they were ready to accept their doomed fate.

Taehyung’s mind was racing, facing an internal dilemma. Should he tell Jin how little time their friend had left? Or would that just pressure him too much more? Before he could even answer his own questions, Jimin spoke up.

“Jin… Jin h-he’s close,” Jimin whispered so quietly he wasn’t even sure Seokjin would be able to hear his words. Jin’s movements stilled, thoughts reeling as he took in a deep, long breath.

Neither Taehyung nor Jimin expected what their older friend did next.

Seokjin plunged his second hand into the tank, both hands immediately diving into the mass of razors.

“Jin what are you doing!” Jimin cried, both he and his boyfriend stumbling forward to try and pull Jin away. It was too late, Jin’s face contorted and he hissed in pain, sealing his own fate as his hands worked their way deeper into the tank.

“Back up,” he hissed, fighting against the two grabbing at his arms and forcefully digging his hands further and further down.

“Jin please,” Jimin choked on a sob, but Tae already knew Jin had made his decision. The determination on his older friend’s face as he searched through the pile of blades for the key that would free Yoongi… Jin knew exactly what he was doing. Taehyung willed himself to step away and give Jin room, gripping Jimin’s arm and taking him back with him.

“Give him the space he wants,” Tae’s voice was strained and Jimin’s eyes scanned over his boyfriend’s face in shock. He couldn’t believe Taehyung was expecting them to just stand there and let Seokjin do this to himself, but Jimin could tell Tae wasn’t happy about the decision either. Tae looked like he was clenching his jaw so tightly it must have hurt, and his expressionless face had turned to stone. Jimin reached a hand up to cup Taehyung’s jaw, pressing his own face into the crook of his lover’s neck so he didn’t have to look at Seokjin.

Another full two minutes had gone by, one since Jin began searching more aggressively. It felt like both of his hands were on fire from the burning sensation of the chemicals rushing into his self-inflicted wounds, and he knew there was absolutely no going back now.

30 more seconds. It seemed like the razors were indefinite. No matter how hastily he grabbed handfuls of them, feeling the way the unforgiving slivers of metal dug into his palms, every time he moved them to the side more would just fall back down into the small ditch he was making.

30 more seconds. Jin couldn’t even see his hands. Maybe it was because his vision was starting to go blurry. Their kidnapper was right, it had only taken minutes from the first small cut for him to begin feeling the effects of the toxins entering his system.

45 more seconds. Jin could hear the couple nervously mumbling to each other, Jimin sounding more and more distraught, like sobs were catching in his throat with every breath he took. Jin was starting to lose feeling in his hands, but maybe it was a blessing in disguise.

He forced his hands the rest of the way, the remaining blades scraping into his skin hardly even eliciting any sensation. Through bleary vision he almost missed the reflective shine of the key, but thankfully noticed it and directed his hands towards the more desirable piece of metal. His weak fingers struggled and grasped it clumsily, but with great effort he was able to retrieve it and toss it out of the tank in Taehyung and Jimin’s general direction before collapsing onto the floor.

The effects of the poison were hitting him hard. He felt like all of his limbs were aflame but numb at the same time, and it felt like his face and chest were being crushed by a thousand tons. His whole body was trembling as it went into shock, and he began writhing. Taehyung and Jimin just watched momentarily, horrified. Jin’s hands were completely mutilated and oozing blood all over the floor surrounding him.

“Fucking get him out,” Jin was barely able to choke out, feebly nodding towards the key on the ground near Jimin’s foot.

The couple was frozen from the trauma of their eldest friend’s state for only a second, Tae scrambling to grab the key and yanking Jimin out of the room. He didn’t want to look at Jin any longer anyway. They had to hurry, they had to save Yoongi, they didn’t have any time to-

Jimin was screaming before Tae’s brain could even begin to process what they returned to the room to see.

This couldn’t have been happening, there was no way the universe could be this unfair to them. Jin had just given up his own life trying to save Yoongi’s… how could there have not been enough time?

Jimin broke down, falling to his knees and covering his face with his hands as his entire body shook with sobs. Taehyung couldn’t pull his eyes away from Yoongi’s head, which was now separated from the rest of his body. It didn’t even look real, save for the appallingly large pool of blood surrounding the portion of Yoongi’s body pulled into the corner.

“He didn’t even say anything, he didn’t even call for us…” Tae was speaking more to himself, not eve sure Jimin could hear him over his crying. Taehyung was stunned. It had to have been slow, it had to have been painful... They’d seen the rate the chain had been drawing Yoongi into the corner…

Taehyung laughed. His laugh was usually melodious, warming like a cup of hot tea on a cold winter’s day. But now it was a laugh void of any and all emotion, simply a cover up, a pained expression of the thought that had popped into his head.

Taehyung knew his older friend too well. Of course Yoongi would go quietly. Even at times like this his ego was far too large to want his friends to see him in such a weakened state… even in his last few moments.

Tae dropped the now useless key, the small piece of metal clinking against the floor too softly to be heard over his boyfriend’s sobbing. Taehyung somberly walked over to Jimin, crouching down and wrapping his arms around the smaller boy.

What more could he do? If you had asked the couple two days ago, they would have both eagerly told you they were all the other needed in the whole universe.

But now they only had each other, and they both felt nothing but emptiness.

Jimin had stopped crying within minutes. Every part of him just felt so unbelievably deadened, he was all cried out. He let Taehyung pull him in closer, their limbs tangling together on the cold cement floor, Jimin half on top of Tae’s lap, just holding one another.

Everything inside of Taehyung was building, bubbling up like a Coke bottle filled with mentos then tightly sealed off. He could feel it in his face and throat; that embarrassingly weak feeling when you know you’re about to cry but still try to hold it all in anyway. He sniffled, burying his face in Jimin’s neck.

Taehyung hated feeling weak.

He was supposed to be the strong one. He was supposed to be Jimin’s rock. He was supposed to hold their world together when it felt like everything was crumbling down around them.

But what did it even mean to stay strong at that point?

Jimin had gone through this with Taehyung before, moments where Tae was clearly trying too hard to put up a front that he was invincible. Jimin obviously didn’t expect such resilience from his boyfriend; Jimin knew what it meant to be human and to be vulnerable. He knew sometimes he had to coax it out of Tae, had to convince him it was okay to show those emotions he was so desperately trying to subdue. It was okay to be weak in front of him, and that’s what Jimin was there for.

Jimin reached a hand up and tangled his fingers gently in the hair at the base of Taehyung’s neck, massaging the soft skin lightly. He didn’t really need to say anything, as there was nothing to even be said at that point.

What Jimin felt when he felt the first sob jolt its way though Tae’s body, could possibly be described as relief.

“I’m here Tae, you still have me Tae, you’re always going to have me Tae,” Jimin mumbled the words into his boyfriend’s temple, using his entire being to hold Taehyung together as he fell apart beneath him.

A small part of Jimin was afraid he was making a promise he couldn’t keep, and it showed in the way his voice cracked while he spoke.

After everything they had just been put through, Jimin wished that that moment would last forever. He didn’t want to know what would come next, he didn’t want to get up just to be forced back into the reality of the room filled with death. If Jimin could spend the rest of his life on the floor with Tae, tightly holding onto each other like they’d shatter into a million pieces if they let go, he would.

A clicking noise came from across the room. The second door had finally opened.

“Tae… Taehyung,” Jimin cupped his lover’s cheek in his hand and guided his tear stained face from the crook of his neck. “T-the other door just opened.” Jimin’s voice was barely a whisper, he didn’t want to get optimistic in the slightest. He didn’t even want to consider the possibility that the door could lead to their freedom, as there was no room left for hope here. Tae sniffled a few more times, wiping his cheeks and eyes with the palms of his hands. Jimin lovingly used his thumbs to wipe away the few stray tears he missed.

“A-are you ready?” Taehyung asked the question even though he knew neither of them ever would be. They were both leaving the same thoughts unspoken.

Who was to say what would lie beyond that door? And who was to say either of them would survive whatever they might have to face…

Jimin nodded, standing up once Taehyung laced their fingers together. They both took a moment to absorb everything around them, saying silent goodbyes to their friends. With heavy hearts, they approached the newly unlocked door, hand in hand.

Taehyung was the one to open the door, but they were both a bit surprised by what they were faced with.

Could they be considered surprised at that point? What had they even been expecting? The outside? No, that would be too simple compared to every elaborate detail put into this whole ordeal. Their kidnapper himself? No, he was probably too cowardly to actually partake in any of his own dirty work, which was why he remained anonymous behind hidden cameras and speaker systems.

But they were in fact surprised, because when Taehyung gingerly pulled open the heavy metal door, the first thing they noticed was that this new room was filled with natural light.

It certainly wasn’t much, but it was enough to make their hearts swell at their first glimpse of the outside world in who knew how long. The room was about the same size as the room they were already in, but this one had small rectangular windows lining the tops of the walls close to the ceiling, allowing for a tiny amount of sunshine to seep in. The positions of the windows hinted to them they were underground, maybe in a basement, but also gave them a teasing sense they were inching closer to escaping.

Tears welled in Tae’s eyes at the realness of the sunlight. What time was it? What day was it? How long had they been in that horrible, horrible room?

Jimin tightly squeezed Taehyung’s hand, pulling him from the swarm of questions swirling through his mind. Tae turned to the side to look at his boyfriend, heart dropping at the terrifyingly pale look of Jimin’s face. Tae had been so overcome by emotion just from the sunlight that he hadn’t even looked at the rest of the room. He followed Jimin’s gaze, eyes landing on the table before them.

It was the same kind of table that was under Jungkook’s body in the main room, the one which had the scale and the knives intended for them to butcher one another with. It was the same kind of table that was in the other side room, the one which had the tank filled with poison Jin had fallen victim to. But this table only had two, simple items on it.

A handgun, and a single bullet.

There was also another door across the room, but it wasn’t a prison-like industrial one as all the previous had been. No, this was a plain wooden door, one like you’d find in any average house or apartment... a door which reminded them too much of home.

But then their focus was back on the table, the gun, and the singular bullet. Waves of nausea came over them at what it could possibly mean, but they didn’t need to consider it for themselves much longer, because before they knew it an all too familiar voice was addressing them once again.

“Congratulations, your freedom lies right beyond that last door.” He sounded almost disappointed in a way, like he didn’t want the game to come to an end. “I’ve been watching you two, and I had a feeling you wouldn’t leave each other’s sides.”

The death grip they had on each other’s hands only tightened, and Taehyung pursed his lips. Tears were brimming and threatening to spill onto his cheeks once again.

“I regret to inform you that I will only be unlocking the final door when that bullet puts an end to one more life.”

Taehyung was shaking, ears refusing to hear the words being spoken to him.

“Please,” he choked out, not even sure if he could be heard by their kidnapper. “Please don’t make us do this, haven’t we been through enough?” If the man could hear Taehyung’s strangled pleas, he chose to ignore them and kept talking.

“The death may not be committed by suicide. I am watching.” There was a lightness to his tone that was completely unnatural, the levels of fucked up someone had to be to say those things incomprehensible. “There will be no time limit. A shot through the skull will be the least painful, in case you had any doubts.”

The silence that followed his instructions was ear splitting. The couple stood motionless, hands still locked together like vices, staring at the gun in front of them.

There weren’t words in the dictionary to describe the emptiness inside of them, the heaviness of the grief weighing them down, how broken and defeated they felt... They had been through so much together, and not just in the last 12 hours. Jimin and Taehyung were soulmates, and they had known that from the moment they fell in love.

But suddenly they were star-crossed lovers, doomed to go on with life without the other by their side.

“Kill me, Taehyung.”

Jimin’s voice was so quiet, Taehyung almost missed what he said. Once Tae was able to register the statement he wasn’t sure what hurt more, the words themself or the ease with which Jimin spoke them.

Another bout of silence came over the room, thick and uncomfortable and begging to be broken. Everything Taehyung could possibly say in that moment refused to come out, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly.

“Taehyung, you have to kill me.” Jimin repeated himself, unsure if Tae heard him the first time. Taehyung did, he just refused to acknowledge any sort of reality for the time being.

“Jimin I absolutely cannot do that there is no way-”

“You have to. Taehyung you have to and you will.”

Taehyung had never heard Jimin speak so firmly and confidently, even through the defeat laced in his tone. Tae felt like his heart was being ripped from his chest at Jimin’s decision as to how this was going to go.

“Listen to me Tae,” Jimin’s voice was still somewhat shaky but he chose to ignore it, stepping in front of his lover to take hold of both of his hands in his own slightly smaller ones. “You should know by now that I can not live without you. In fact, I probably wouldn’t still be alive if you hadn’t come into my life two years ago.” Tears were welling in Tae’s eyes and he just continually shook his head, refusing to come to terms with their situation. Yet at the same time, he knew Jimin was right. When the couple met two years ago Jimin was at a very low point in his life, and it was partially in the way Taehyung helped him through such a rough patch that they fell in love.

“You are stronger than me. You have always been stronger than me,” Jimin went on, reaching a hand up to catch the tears that were falling from Tae’s eyes with his fingers. “If you are the one to leave this place, life will go on for you. And I know you don’t want to admit that right now, especially… especially without the others,” Jimin’s voice cracked at the first actual out loud acknowledgment of the other’s deaths. “But it will. You are truly the most resilient person I’ve ever met, and you’ll keep going. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard it’s going to be, but you’re Kim Taehyung and I know you’re going to find a way.” Now it was Jimin’s turn to let a few tears fall from his eyes.

“You have to be the one to live Tae, and you have to do it for me.”

Taehyung felt like he was falling, like the whole world was crumbling around him, yet he still found solace in his lover’s eyes. The way Jimin held his face, the way Jimin gently wiped away his tears, the way Jimin still somehow managed to have a smile on his face… His entire life was falling apart, but Jimin still managed to find a way to keep Taehyung grounded.

Yes, Jimin was smiling. He couldn’t help it. Even at such a dire time Jimin was so unbelievably fond of Taehyung, his heart so overwhelmingly filled with love for him… how could he not try to enjoy their last few moments together?

“Jimin, you’re asking me to shoot you,” Taehyung felt like he was suffocating, unable to process the words he had just said.

“I’m asking you to save yourself Taehyung. And I’m not even asking you to, I’m telling you to.” Jimin sniffled, turning his head to the side to wipe his eyes on the back of his hand.

Taehyung fell apart, giving in to every single emotion that he’d been trying so hard to suppress up until that moment. He pulled Jimin into his chest so tightly he practically smothered him, but Jimin didn’t mind in the slightest. He needed to feel Taehyung’s warmth one last time, he needed to feel his lover’s body pressed against his own.

In that moment, they were one. They weren’t two lovers in each other’s arms, saying goodbyes they never thought they would have to. They were a single entity, two halves of a whole unit unable to function without the other, but when they let go they wouldn’t be pieced back together ever again.

Jimin was the one to pull away from the embrace, craving to look into Taehyung’s eyes. He stared, taking in every last detail of his lover’s face; from his red, puffy eyes, to his tear-stained cheeks… the only thing he wished was that he could see his favorite boxy smile one last time. Nonetheless, Taehyung had never looked so beautiful to Jimin, and Jimin hoped he could hold onto the memory of his beauty into the afterlife.

Jimin leaned up for a kiss, pressing their lips together with such passion everything almost felt right. It was a kiss so deep and filled with love, for a split second he almost forgot where he was or the circumstances of their position. Taehyung reached up to cup a hand behind Jimin’s neck and draw him impossibly closer, trying to ignore the heartache that came over him as his brain reminded him this would be the last time he’d feel Jimin’s soft, plump lips moving against his own. Jimin broke the kiss, going against every part of him telling him to not to do just that.

“It’s time, Tae,” Jimin whispered, moving his hand up to comb his fingers through Taehyung’s tangled hair one last time, like he had done so many times before. The gesture was so familiar and warming, Taehyung knew Jimin had full intentions of doing it in the most comforting and affectionate way possible… but every ‘last’ hurt more and more.

Taehyung sniffed and shook his head, but he knew Jimin’s choice had already been made, and there was no other way this was going to end. Of course he would fall in love with the most selfless person on the face of the planet.

“We have to Taehyung, you have to get out of here. Please don’t stay a second longer than you have to. Just do it, and as soon as that door unlocks get out of here, you have to leave. You have to leave and you have to run and you have to promise me you’re not going to look back, not for a second.” Jimin used every ounce of strength left in him to keep his voice as steady as possible, keeping his eye contact with Taehyung firm. “Promise me that, Tae.”

It was truly impossibly for Taehyung to feel any more pain than he already was, so he just nodded his head.

“Okay Jimin, I promise.” The words felt like acid, foreign and wrong, buring Tae’s throat as he spoke them. He never thought he would have to say this type of goodbye to the love of his life.

Jimin gave Taehyung’s hand a squeeze, turning around and taking a few steps towards the table. Tae followed without letting go of Jimin’s hand. There was still an uncomfortable tension hanging between them, growing even heavier as they stood before the table in the center of the room.

“Do you… do you uh… know how…” Jimin couldn’t find the right words. Nothing was right in this situation, nor would anything be ever again.

Tae actually recognized the handgun, all of a sudden wishing he was blissfully ignorant and knew nothing about firearms. It was a Glock 27, the pumpkin spice latte of all guns, basic in every sense of the word.

And the bullet. The fact that there was only one bullet… Taehyung didn’t want to think that there was a chance he’d need more than one, praying Jimin wouldn’t suffer.

“Yeah,” Taehyung mumbled, trembling hands reaching out for the gun and bullet. He felt compelled to share the story that popped into his head, but this wasn’t the time for an anecdote about how his father taught him all about gun safety on a camping trip when he was 16. Taehyung released the magazine and slid in the bullet, hating the way his hands so easily remembered how to work the parts of a gun under such circumstances. He locked the magazine back in place, looking towards Jimin with tear filled eyes.

Taehyung felt the urge to kiss Jimin again; he wanted to do nothing more than pull his boyfriend in for a kiss and never let it end, but at the same time he knew they had already had their last kiss. Anything more would just make the pain intensify.

Jimin cautiously laced his fingers in between Taehyung’s once more, giving Tae a final opportunity to feel the way they fit together like two puzzle pieces. They molded together so well Taehyung knew he would never find someone whose hands fit into his own as perfectly as Jimin’s did, and his heart ached at the thought.

“I love you, Taehyung.”

“I love you too, Jimin…” Taehyung felt another sob bubbling up in his throat. “And I’m going to love you forever.”

Jimin almost audibly winced from Taehyung’s words, and he let go of his boyfriend’s hand. He knew that if he didn’t do so Taehyung would let them stand there forever, and Jimin knew he had to be the one to speed up this process or Taehyung would never get out of this torturous place.

Jimin walked over towards the door leading back to the room where all their friends bodies remained. For some reason he felt the need to be closer to them, his legs guiding him there on their own.

It hurt Tae to watch Jimin walk away. It hurt Tae even more to hold back all of the words he felt catching in his throat, but he knew he shouldn’t say anything else. He shouldn’t make it any harder to do what was about to be done.

Jimin kneeled down on the floor in the doorway, resting a hand on the cool metal of the frame. His eyes glanced around the room, fully desensitized to the disfigured bodies surrounding him.

’At least I’ll have you guys.’

He kept the thought to himself.

Jimin could hear Taehyung’s footsteps as he approached him from behind, able to tell from how loud and heavy they sounded that Tae was struggling to come closer.

For Taehyung, the click that rang through the room when he pulled back the slide of the handgun was almost like a shot through the heart in itself. Jimin sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth at the sound, fully knowing that bracing himself would be useless.

Taehyung rose the gun as he drew nearer, arm feeling as if it were being weighed down with bags of bricks. He stopped when he was about a foot away from Jimin, pressing the muzzle of the gun against the back of his head.

He wanted to say one last ‘I love you’, he wanted to apologize, and he had to clamp his free hand over his mouth as he almost let out a sob. He knew it would be worse for Jimin if he gave some sort of indication it was about to happen.

So Taehyung just pulled the trigger.

The sound of the gunshot alone was so ear splitting it hurt, but it was the silence that resonated afterwards that hurt Taehyung the most. Then Jimin’s body fell forward onto the concrete before him, and the sound it made as it hit the floor almost made Taehyung vomit.

He would never forget that sound, or sight.

Taehyung dropped the gun, unable to stop himself from staring at the gaping wound in the back of Jimin’s head. The bullet seemed to have went clean through from such close range, and in the most fucked up way possible Taehyung felt a slight sense of relief.

Jimin’s body was completely motionless, and Taehyung hoped it had happened quick enough that he didn’t feel any pain.

Taehyung was reminded that he had a promise to keep when he heard a click from across the room behind him. The final door had unlocked. He forced himself to look away from Jimin and darted across the room, dodging around the table, then swinging open the wooden door.

He was faced with a set stairs leading up, confirming his suspicion they had been in some basement this whole time. More importantly he was outside, holy shit he was outside. He sprinted up the steps, taking them two at a time, heart racing as he frantically looked around.

Trees. Nothing but trees. He was in the woods.

Taehyung started running. He ran until his legs arched and his lungs burned, but even then he didn’t stop running.

Taehyung ran, and he never looked back.

#bcgoct17 #BCGNet #bts angst #vmin angst #taemin angst #jin angst #yoongi angst #jhope angst #namjoon angst #jungkook angst #jimin angst #by kristen #tw gore #taehyung angst #hoseok angst #seokjin angst

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