Authors Note: I KNOW ITS LONG BUT I PROMISE YOU ITLL BE WELL WORTH IT. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT!!! IM YELLING IM SO HAPPY I FINISHED THIS!!!!
Summary: a series of short stories to your forever.
(each bolded word starts a new short story, the horizontal lines also divide each story.)
@hamilton-noodles Jo is a blessing to this earth. THE MOST eloquent person I have ever come across. I personally give this story to her, and all the stars in the sky. I want to publicly thank her for being one of the best people I have ever met (PERIOD) I love her so much and she is my bestest of the best friends.
@adolescenthowell RACHAEL was my first friend on this blog and I want to thank her for reading my shit, facetiming me when I need motivation to write, and most importantly sticking by me. She is so talented and I love her.
@fanfrickinhamiltasticimagines Sophie is the kindest human being alive. I want to give her all my thanks for proof reading for me. She is an amazing human being and so so out of this world talented. Love ya girl!
@whatdimissmotherfuckers Ruby for being such an adorable little bean. She’s the most giving yet still sassy person ever and I admire her self confidence. I hope you keep doing you babe. Her art and writing is the BESTEST. AND I ALSO LOVE HER DEARLY.
If life had worked out perfectly; you would have never met him. You took the wrong train going downtown. Stupid, you knew, but being a first time New Yorker was hard. You wandered the streets aimlessly until you found a subway station late at night, hoping and praying you’d be able to find your way back home, your phone having died hours ago. You sat on a bench tapping your foot anxiously waiting for your train going up when a subway car rattled its way to your station. You were passing the doors when you saw a man runselfning down the length of the aisles in the subway car, singing loudly with a pair of headphones on. He didn’t notice you immediately, but when his eyes finally fell on you he practically tore off his headphones and stopped dead in his tracks. You gave him an awkward smile before he blushed red and returned one.
kim seokjin x reader genre/warnings—
angst, smut and fluff !! Seokjin finally grows some
balls ;) words—
you’ve been lusting after your
brother’s best friend for a while now, ever since you met him at a house party,
flirting it up a storm as you failed to realise who the other was. That was
months ago now and things are still awkward, but you can’t ignore the sexual
tension that’s simmers between the two of you…and it keeps getting worse…
For being the God of Death, Niall has a habit of acting on ideas without thinking them through. It’s probably why Harry ends up with an unexpected but entirely welcome visitor in his bed the day after a Mount Olympus party.
the one where Louis is an annoying customer who won’t leave Harry’s shop on time, and Harry is counting down the seconds until Louis leaves. Until a chance encounter at a concert, and suddenly, Harry really doesn’t want Louis to leave.
( texts from last night ✉ send one for my muse's reaction )
( text ) : uh, do you have my pants because i have yours
( text ) : let’s play another game of whose boxers are hanging on my fence
( text ) : update. a gay guy just told me that i’m the most beautiful thing with a vagina he has ever seen. how should i feel about this?
( text ) : i’m sorry about all the inappropriate shoe throwing.
( text ) : you killed a bottle of bacardi in 20 minutes. so much for being an organ donor.
( text ) : why can’t burritos get me drunk?
( text ) : i know you’re on a date and i should leave you alone, but about twenty minutes ago, i realized i haven’t been spanked in years so if you’re still looking for a birthday present, you know, consider it.
( text ) : why is my bath tub filled with mud?
( text ) : i’ve noticed we slowly have begun to phase the “b” out of our bromace.
( text ) : you just jumped of the couch and yelled “hidden tiger crouching dragon!” that’s the answer to how you broke your finger.
( text ) : this is what my life has come to. drinking champagne alone yelling at the dog because no one wants to hang out with me
( text ) : if i open my eyes, my head will explode. that hungover.
( text ) : apparently all year, they’ve been using me as a standard for drunkenness.
( text ) : all i’m saying is that your next houseguest had better not barge in on me in the shower demanding i wash the stolen dye from his hair. i’m not doing that a second time.
( text ) : i need to stop drunkenly getting naked. i’m losing all my party clothes.
( text ) : please make the clown in the corner stop judging me. i mean he’s the one with paint on his face. i don’t need him judge judying me.
( text ) : sooooo, how am i supposed to explain to my mom that i was admitted to the hospital, but you kidnapped me within 20 minutes?
( text ) : hey remember that thing i said about never apologizing for being a hot mess? well that was before you found me drunk in the hallway with no pants.
( text ) : so much for not drinking this week after this weekend. congrats, you made it until tuesday.
( text ) : i just remembered that someone fed me a pretzel out of their purse at the bar last night.
I don’t normally offer advice, dating or otherwise, at least not prompted or without a whole bunch of qualifiers. I’ll start by saying I have no credentials beyond that I used to not believe in healthy human relationships, but 20 years into actual Happily Ever After have given me hope.
So here you go:
Talk your little heads off. Talk about everything. How you feel about sports, kids, trees, bees, pollution, politics, religion. Say stupid things. Say the things you think about worry about wonder about. Say the things you fear will chase someone off. Say the things you hope one day to share with someone who finds you charming, hilarious, valuable, valid. Say the things. Say all the things. None of this third date, fifth date, middle of the night drunken text stuff after one month or two or six or some arbitrarily set milestone.
Because yes, absolutely, someone will leave you.
Someone will find you not to their liking. And you’ll find folks not to yours. And wouldn’t you rather find that out now? Wouldn’t you rather know early enough that you can cut your losses and go? Rather than spend decades in a relationship with a stranger, rather than spend a lifetime with someone you feel is judging you, laughing at you, disapproving of you?
Because someone else is going to love you.
Someone else is going to laugh at your stupidest jokes if for no reason other than that you said them, eyes crinkling at the corners, lips stretching wide over your own audacity. They’re going to want to know about your dullest day at work and how you got toner on your favorite slacks. They’re going love your quoting song lyrics or movies. Or misremembering the lines of your favorites children’s book. They’re going to love your sleepy wonderings and your pre-coffee grumblings and your ramblings. My goodness they’re going to love your ramblings. They’re going to text/email/call you in the middle of the day just to see how your morning’s gone, even if it’s just like every other morning, and they’re going to tell you they love you because you should know. You’re going to go to bed like every night is a sleepover still talking and laughing about the same ridiculous thing you did last year or the year before.
Because you’re going to love all of that about them too.
One of the most wonderful things about loving someone is wanting to share the world with them and wanting to see the world through their eyes.
Talk on those first dates, those first texts or whatever you kids are using for first contacts these days. Be yourself. Make real connections or don’t. Cut your losses. Keep looking. Because the last thing you want is an UnHappily Ever After with a stranger who doesn’t care what’s going on between your ears. The last thing any of us should want is an UnHappily Ever After with someone whose mind we don’t know and love.
RFA+V with MC that has a drinking problem like it's only when she's sad?
I would’ve made these mini-fics if I had time aah~ (You might
notice I almost did that in the first few sentences of Zen’s… I changed it from
what I originally planned in order to shorten this haha) BUT I do plan on
starting fics when I’m back from my trip and I’ll supply whatever feels I can
Me after writing this: Damn I think this is actually kinda fluffy~~ Hehe, I like it. ^O^
You were at the bar you used to visit frequently, bored out
of your mind as you were alone
So you called Yoosung, because you figured he’d be free, out
of everyone in the RFA at this time. Everyone else was working, but Yoosung
spent all his time playing LOLOL anyway…
“MC? Why’d you call?” he answered, surprise evident in his
Your reply was slurred, and you couldn’t quite remember what
exactly you were saying but you knew you did mention to him why you were sad
His sigh echoed through the phone. “Stay right where you
are, MC. Don’t move,” he stated firmly before hanging up.
It wasn’t long before he arrived at the bar, looking out of
place in his casual shirt and pants. His eyes landed upon you immediately, and
he tried to make you leave with him, but you refused
Realizing that one of you had to tolerate the other, he
decided to stay and drink with you. “I don’t want you to be alone on a night
like this, especially when you’re feeling down.”
Was visiting you at the apartment because you hadn’t been
active in the chatroom lately
The door was unlocked, which freaked him out, but what
worried him more was the fact that it was dark and messy in your apartment. He
found you sitting beside your bed, a bottle of vodka beside you, and he felt
his heart break in two.
“You promised me you wouldn’t drink anymore…” he whispered
sadly, eyebrows knit together in frustration.
You shrugged, not in the mood to care for what he was
He gently pried the bottle from your hands, and set it away
from you before lifting you up onto your bed and laying you down.
“Let me grab some water for you,” he murmured, leaving a
kiss on your forehead.
He did just that, and sat at the edge of your bed with the
lights turned off, moonlight shining through the windows.
“Tell me what happened, jagi. I’ll listen. But please, don’t
drink any more than you already have…”
She was already chugging down drinks with you.
“He’s really not worth it,” she still tried to convince you,
“You shouldn’t be drinking over him.”
You laughed in a drunken haze. “B-but Baehee, hehe,” you
slurred, “You’re drinking -hic-
She slapped your arm playfully as she laughed with you,
accidentally knocking the drink out of your hands
“Look at what y-you diiiid,” you pointed to the spilled
drink. “I’m teeelling on you to Jumiiiin”
She sobbed on your shoulder. “NOOOO, NOT M-MR. HAAAAN!!”
The two of you were a sobbing mess in your kitchen, drunk
Jaehee would never let you drink alone, especially when you
were sad… even if it meant risking acting like an idiot. (Not to mention the
painful hangover that would greet her in the morning.)
He had received a call from a co-worker who said they
thought they had seen you at a nearby bar. Although Jumin hadn’t even been sure
if it was really you, he took the night off work and headed over anyway.
…Jaehee had been bugging him that you were acting weird by
not answering her texts lately, after all.
He had brushed her comments off at first, but now he
realized perhaps the situation was worse than he had originally assumed.
He tugged at your arm, frowning. “MC,” he sighed your name,
glaring at your slumped, drunken figure across the bar counter.
You tried to escape his grip, pulling back you arm, but it
was inevitable that a grown, sober man was far stronger than you in this state.
You groaned, “Just leave me alone…”
Frustrated and not wanting to catch too much attention in
public, he swung you over his shoulder to carry you back to the car where
Driver Kim waited. Once you were laid down, he handed you a bottle of water.
It helped to clear your mind just a bit. He rubbed your back
with his hand, listening as you quietly vented to him.
He’d take you back to his place, not trusting you to be
alone in your apartment.
(A/N: originally, this was going to be Jumin stopping you
before you started drinking, and it would’ve ended nsfw as he gave reasons not
to drink. But my hands typed something else out instead ;-;;;)
He’d already stolen every last bit of alcohol you had tried
to hide in your apartment, forbidding you from drinking. He knew of your bad
habits, and he would’ve hated himself for not stopping you if he had the
ability to do so.
Of course, he couldn’t stop you from drinking outside effectively…
The drunken idiot in you texted him with a photo of you
chugging down vodka somewhere alone on the streets, and in a flash he was
“Haven’t I told you NOT to drink?!” he scolded you through
the phone, sounding angry.
You shrugged in response, not realizing, in your drunken
state, that he couldn’t see you. You hung up on him, lying down to look up at
The moon was bright, you thought as you squinted your eyes.
Before you could take another swig of your drink, a hand caught your wrist.
Seven leaned over you, panting, beads of sweat rolling down
“Dammit, MC, you cause so much trouble,” he growled, helping
You were too unsteady to walk, so he piggybacked you to his
car instead, gruffly muttering, “Come on. I’m taking you home.”
His words sounded cold, but the feelings behind them made
you feel so, so warm. Secretly, it was because Seven was always so passionate
about stopping you that you rebelled against him so often, just to make him
worry. Not that you’d ever let him know.
He’d be the one who could talk you out of drinking
“MC, whenever you feel sad, just call me, and I’ll come
running right away,” he had told you.
You hadn’t really believed him, not fully, at least…
But after a co-worker had embarrassed you in front of
customers, you were feeling humiliated and upset, and considered drinking. In
fact, you had already arrived at your usual store to buy spirits, but you
couldn’t help but remember Jihyun’s promise as you eyed a bottle.
You quickly excused yourself from the store, calling him.
“Ji-Jihyun…? Um… I…” You were at a loss for words, unsure
what to say to explain to him.
“Is something the matter, MC?” His voice was tender, and you
felt like you could trust him with anything in that moment.
“I-I wanted to drink,” you blurted out.
He hummed understandingly in response. “Where are you? I’ll
come pick you up, okay?”
Jihyun holds to his word, showing up in his car and
spontaneously taking you to the beach. Nobody was there at this time of day,
making you wonder why he would take you here. He took out a few blankets from
the trunk of his car, then guided you to a large rock that gave a perfect view
of the sea.
Neither of you exchanged words, but as you sat atop the
rock, staring at the moving sea dimly lit by the shining moon, you realized how
comforting it actually was. The repetitive sound of tidal waves crashing
against the shore, then being pulled back into the water was relaxing, and the
scenery was serene in itself.
You found yourself feeling comfortable enough to talk with
Jihyun, who listened carefully even as you spoke through the sunrise…
A/N: Hello my darlings! I am back with another Captain Swan related drabble! I’m like 94% certain that this is an alternative universe because I think I set it up (or that’s what I intended) that they never actually dated, but had feelings for one another. This was inspired by the song Need You Now by Lady Antebellum!
It was also originally inspired by the @cshiatuschallenge drabble prompt of Drunken Texts on tumblr, but then it took on a mind of it’s own.
I want to give a special shout out and a thank you to my amazing beta, @xxdustnight88. Without her, none of these stories would exist. You should all go check her out and give her lots of love.
Title: Need You Now Pairing: Captain Swan Rating: K Summary: Sometimes all it takes is just one phone call…
If you are interested in checking out my other works or keeping up with me in general, I have an author’s page on Facebook that you can check out (starrnobella Fanfiction) as well as a group (starrnobella Fanfiction Friends & Fans) that I am very active in on a daily basis. I’m also on tumblr (starrnobella) that you can follow along with me as well.
Be sure to let me know what you think!
Love always, ~starr
“I know I shouldn’t be calling you right now,” she mumbled, holding the phone up to her ear as she took a deep breath. Leaning up against the wall behind her, she brushed her hand over her face.
She wasn’t sure what she was even doing right now. He had no reason to answer her calls. She couldn’t really blame him for not wanting anything to do with her after everything that had happened. But tonight, she just couldn’t get him off her mind and she needed to talk to him. Even if it was just his voicemail.
“There you are,” a voice called to her. “What are you doing over here?”
ok so i really wanna play older fcs so gimme the newly divorced couple who still run w the same ~crowd~ so they have to see each other a lot? and they deal with new bfs/gfs, thinking they might still love each other, trying to Fake it Til they Make It, drunken texts @ 2am, maybe they have kids together and have 2 deal with that, maybe they?? kiss again im just Shook someone please
The one where Louis is an annoying customer who won’t leave Harry’s shop on time, and Harry is counting down the seconds until Louis leaves. Until a chance encounter at a concert, and suddenly, Harry really doesn’t want Louis to leave.
Louis is twenty years old and has been waiting for his soulmate and true love to come along since the day he was born. Harry is an eighteen year old youtuber who is skeptical of soulmates and the pressure of being the person someone else has been dreaming of their entire lives.
The canon compliant Harry and Louis love story from the very beginning, where the only difference is that the love between them is literally written on their skin, and there’s only so much they can hide.
Louis has everything: a lead role in a giant Hollywood franchise, a glittering new house with an entertaining Irish neighbor, and a steady, normal boyfriend who he probably loves. Louis never expected to become a household name among young Hollywood overnight. He also never expected to find something endearing about the enigmatic rockstar who keeps showing up on his back porch.
thomas’s car is right there. right at the curb. and his keys are right there in his pocket, he can feel them. at least he’s pretty sure that’s his car. he can’t read the license plate from where he is. can’t quite tell what kind of car it is, either, but he’s almost positive it’s his. he’s almost sure that’s where he’d parked it.
why is he standing outside again?
oh, right. alex.
that’s also the reason why he’s not driving home at this very second as well. very specific instructions.
second night in a row, and he comes to the conclusion that he’d been wrong about how many drinks he’d had. it feels worse. he can barely even think straight this time, and he isn’t sure if he could form coherent sentences if he tried.
he stands under the blue glow of the sign hanging over the door, leaning back against the wall. he’d take a step forward so that alex could see him when he pulled up, but he’s not sure if he can walk straight.
away from the noise and crowds of the bar, this feeling isn’t fun or comforting anymore. not at all.
the same parking spot is open, alex notices, almost as if waiting for him. as if the whole world knew this was coming except him. keeping it secret, waiting for him to arrive and do this all over again. he pulls in, sliding off his seat and stepping into the street. just like yesterday.
and there he is, leaning against the wall. he walks over to him, not quite registering what’s going on and yet understanding absolutely everything at the same time.
“hey, it’s me again. my car’s where it was before. i’m just going to drop you off and i guess i could walk back and drive your car to your apartment? or you can get it tomorrow morning.” he shifts his weight on his feet. it doesn’t feel like he’s talking to thomas. just a tall stranger. a man leaning against a wall who he would normally avoid encountering.
thomas turns, eyes wide, breaking into a wide smile.
“alex.” again, his voice barely sounds like his own. even more so than last night. “you know, you are, like…the best person in my life right now.” his smile drops, as if attempting to shift to a more serious demeanor. “i mean it. you are the best person.” his words tumble from his mouth in a flood of barely distinguishable syllables. the smell of vodka clings to the air, strong on his breath.
his heart sinks, it kills him to see him like this. what’s he going to do? obviously his bullshit care didn’t do anything last night.
“glad you’re happy to see me. c'mon it’s really late, we gotta get you home.” his voice almost fatherly, or like an older brother. he doesn’t feel comfortable speaking like this but he knows if he talks to him sincerely he’ll break down crying. he’s not too great at this whole see-the-person-you-love-hurt thing. even though he’s the one who started it.
A/N: This takes place after the night that Yoongi got drunk, crashed the MC and Jungkook’s date, and was subsequently scolded by Yoojung and Hoseok.
The entire thing was inspired by a conversation I had with @meanyoongis in which she made fake texts for it and everything :’) so it’s dedicated to her. Also, congrats on 2k followers!
Whether it was the morning sun brazenly daring to land on his face or the persistent ringing of his phone he didn’t know, but Yoongi was awake and as miserable as ever. He grumbled a string of lazy curses and grimaced when his cheek brushed against a wet spot on his pillow. Drooling was probably his most embarrassing drunken habit but, he reminded himself with a huff and a hand running down his face, it wasn’t as if you had come home with him anyways. All the better. At least you didn’t have to witness the stench of his breath. His fingers searched his bed until they finally found his phone—discarded and forgotten in the sheets. Hoseok’s name and an obnoxious picture of his friend smiling, a picture Yoongi didn’t remember taking, greeted him.
He groaned and answered the call with a gruff, “What do you want?”
“You’re always so chipper in the morning,” Hoseok chuckled. Yoongi closed his eyes and hoped that his bed could somehow swallow him whole, fuse with his body in some way, anything to make Hoseok’s boisterous voice go away. “I wanted to check on you.”
“How’s my lovesick little buddy doing?” he sing-songed.
Yeah, being a bed sounded great.
“I’m not lovesick,” Yoongi snapped and tried to sit up but his head violently protested until he collapsed back onto the pillows.
“Uh huh,” he answered in a monotone voice. “I just wanted to make sure you made it home last night and that you hadn’t drank yourself to death so, I’ve done my duty as your friend.”
“What do you mean? I texted you last night.”
“Mmm no you didn’t.”
“Yes I did. I distinctly remember that. It was right before,” Yoongi paused to scrunch his nose as the memory fleshed out in his mind, “I threw up in the kitchen. Dammit.”
“Disgusting. But you really didn’t text me. Maybe it didn’t send? Ooh or maybe you sent it to someone else! What was it about?”
Yoongi’s eyes jolted open and his breath stopped. “I have to go.”
“What? Just like that? At least tell me what the message was—.”
His fingers raced against the screen of his phone. His gut rolled but he had a sneaking suspicion it had nothing to do with his hangover. His mind raced, tried to pull at the bits and pieces of his memory from the night before and piece together the fragments. He remembered the elevator ride and how he had unloaded onto some unsuspecting woman that lived in a lower floor. If he was entirely honest with himself, he didn’t recall the woman seeming at all interested in conversation with him but Yoongi was desperate to vent to someone—anyone! The pressure in his chest grew as his memory sharpened. He hadn’t vented about just anything. He had ranted and raved about you.
The shards of fragments from the night fell together and the picture it left wasn’t pretty. His conversation with Yoojung and Hoseok had left a sour taste in his mouth, to say the least. Guilt, shame, a peculiar sense of self-hatred that he had never experienced before when it concerned women had settled in on him and the rest of his evening was spent grumbling and muttering bits of the speeches the two had given him. It was easier to mock them in his drunken rage than to acknowledge that they had several quality points. Hoseok hadn’t known your name, that was the truth and it was because Yoongi had never shared it—for reasons he wasn’t keen on exploring in his inebriated state and certainly not in the morning after haze—but it had irked him. Hearing his friend refer to you as ‘fuckdoll’ repeatedly set his skin on fire, nerve endings shot off with each syllable and he had no one to blame but himself.
Yoongi knew what he would find in his texts before the messaging app loaded but it still set off a panicked squeak when he saw your name at the top of his recent conversations. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. He scrambled to sit up on the bed, as if a different position would help his frantic heart rate, and braced for what he knew was likely waiting in the messages.
From: Yoongi [3:14 AM]
Dnt call herfuckkdoll
From: Yoongi [3:14 AM]
Thatss not her namwe
He choked on his own breath because of course he had to drunk text you of all people. The messages didn’t get any less incriminating. The next three were misspellings of your name before on the fourth he finally completed it—in all caps and with six damn confetti emojis after it. Fuck. The last messages were the most incriminating.
From: Yoongi [3:17 AM]
Her name is perty. Use it nexxt tim assfac.
From: Yoongi [3:26 AM]
I fcuked up Hobi. She will nver talk to me agan.
Yoongi managed a strangled curse and dropped his head until his chin rested against his chest. His only saving grace was that the messages remained unread, most likely because it was too early for you to have woken up—especially if you did spend the night with Jeon. The taste of something acidic rose out of his throat but he swallowed it back down with a grimace, surely that was just the liquor from the night before and not anything to do with the idea of you and Jeon spending the evening together.
The messages left him as an open book. Exposed and naked. An entire nine minutes had passed between the last two messages. It was too honest, too revealing, and too late for him to do anything about it.
Or was it?
His eyes danced around the room, spent a mere half a second on an object before moving onto another and yet none of them registered in his head. Hoseok. He needed Hoseok. He crawled out of bed with the phone cradled between his ear and his bare shoulder as it trilled. “Pick up. Pick up. Pick the fuck up,” he muttered while he shoved his legs into the same pants he had worn the night before. There was a wet stain around the knees of one of his pant legs, as if he had tripped at some point on his walk home and kneeled in the snow to regain his balance.
“Oh you want to talk to me now?” Hoseok’s voice was irritating at any point that Yoongi was hungover but it took an extra effort from him to tolerate it when he was smug. Nothing was worse than Hoseok when he was full of himself.
“Shut up. Just shut up and listen. I sent the texts to her.”
Hoseok snorted and made no attempt to hide his amusement at Yoongi’s misfortune. “You’ve really stepped in it.”
“She hasn’t read them yet. How do I erase them from her phone?”
“Do you think I’m a hacker or something? I’m a journalist. I have morals, Yoongi.”
“Don’t give me that high ground bullshit. You wrote a story last month after sorting through someone’s trash. Now help me!” Hoseok sighed but the silence afterwards lasted too long for Yoongi’s liking. “Hobi! Fucking help me!”
“What’s the big deal? You sent a few drunken texts. Everyone does it.” He paused to wait for his friend’s response and when it didn’t come he laughed—loudly and still managed for it to be condescending. “Wait! Did you confess? Did you actually tell her how you feel while drunk?”
“I didn’t confess,” Yoongi scoffed but finished the sentence while muttering, “I just said that her name was pretty and that she wouldn’t ever talk to me again.” Hoseok’s chuckling turned into an all out guffaw. “Don’t laugh! It’s your fault this even happened in the first place.”
“If you had just stopped calling her fuckdoll this wouldn’t have happened.”
“It’s nice to see that you can still find a way to place the blame on someone else even when you’re not feeling well.”
“How do I get rid of them? Is there someone I can pay for that?”
“To do what? Hack into her phone?”
“That, or break in and take the phone.”
“Jesus christ,” Hoseok muttered. “Listen to yourself. What are you going to do? Google search petty criminals?”
Yoongi barely heard his friend, his mind was too busy running through scenarios and trying to find the quickest way to solve the problem at hand. He was a Min through and through. He had been trained his entire life to fix problems before they were made public. “Craigslist. I can put an ad on there, right?”
Hoseok didn’t answer for a beat, let the question hang in the air instead of dignifying it with a response but finally he sighed, “No, Yoongi. You can’t put an ad on Craigslist to find someone to break into her apartment and steal her phone.”
“No no no. They wouldn’t steal it. Just delete the messages.”
“You have finally snapped. It’s taken thirty years but you’ve actually lost your mind.”
Yoongi wanted to throw his own quip back but the phone vibrated in his hand just as he had finished getting dressed. He froze, his teeth dug into his bottom lip, his eyes snapped shut in defeat because he knew—he just knew—you had woken up and seen the texts. He had lost whatever opportunity he may have had, not that it was a great chance to begin with. “I’ve got to go.”
“You’re not actually going to—.”
As soon as the call ended he switched over to his messaging app. He had braced himself, as best as he could, for whatever message might greet him but he hadn’t expected what you had sent.
From: You [7:33 AM]
It was odd and he couldn’t really explain it but the period at the end, the fact that you had chosen to type it at all, felt so definitive that he was almost offended. He could practically hear the lack of enthusiasm in your texts. The text that followed was enough to settle his mind and to crush his ego—all in four words.