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kookscrescent · 4 years

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Midnight Rendezvous (m) │ jhs

➤ pairing│Hoseok x female reader ➤ summary│Because of a rule that was implemented at Hoseok’s apartment, he has to sneak you in without his roommates finding out. But perhaps you were a little too loud... ➤ rating│NC-17, mature, 18+ ➤ genre│smut, fluff, boyfriend au ➤ warnings│unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cremepie, multiple orgasms (female), swearing, dirty talk?, Hobi is slightly dominant but also not really?, Yoongi kinda hates you and is a little grumpy ➤ word count│6k│semi edited ➤ release date│December 22nd 2019 ➤ disclaimer│This is all fiction! Nothing mentioned/written are facts and/or real! So please just keep that in mind when reading and enjoy! Thank you ♡

⇥ Masterlist

Your feet are doing their best, taking double the steps that you normally would, to try and keep up with Hoseok, that is currently dragging you down the thankfully empty corridor. His grip on your hand is tight and if he were to let go and stop you would without a doubt faceplant right into his back or fall flat on your ass.

“Are you really going to sneak me inside?” You ask in disbelief.

Hoseok turns briefly, his eyes catching yours and a cheeky smile finding his lips before he turns to look where he’s going once again.

“I am. The guys don’t know about you yet.”

When you first started dating Hoseok two months ago, you weren’t aware that he lived in an apartment with six other guys. It wasn’t until you started to question him about why he would always insist on going to your place that he told you.

The thought of seven guys living in an apartment together is funny to you. Like, how would that even work? And how freaking big was his apartment?

“Are you embarrassed of me?” Is that why he hasn’t introduced you to his friends yet? Because he’s embarrassed to be with you?

He stops to look at you. “What? No,” he shakes his head, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss it lightly. “I would never be embarrassed of you. We just have a strict “no girls in the apartment” rule.” He rolls his eyes as he tells you this.

You frown, “A what?”

“I know. It’s stupid, and honestly I don’t even remember why we made that rule in the first place.”

“But isn’t that rule meant for one night stand type of things?” you ask him. “I mean we’re dating, so aren’t I excluded from that said rule?”

Hoseok’s lips form a straight line, his browns furrowing as he ponders over what you just said. “I don’t know,” he finally tells you. “But just for now, to be on the safe side, I’ll sneak you in.”

He continues walking till he stops at the door to his apartment.

22 C.

Next to the door there’s a little gold plaque with names written on it. You spot Hoseoks name immediately at the bottom of the plaque, and you try focusing on reading the other names as Hoseok tries to unlock the door without making too much noise.

Min Yoongi

Kim Taehyung

Kim Seokjin

Kim Namjoon

Jeon Jungkook

Park Jimin

Jung Hoseok

You are too busy reading the names, that you don’t even sense Hoseok opening the door and cracking it open just a few centimeters to peak his head inside to see if anyone is still up. Through the small crack you can see the faintly illuminated living room, and you can hear a television running in the background.

Your stomach drops. Why is anyone up at this hour watching television? It’s way past midnight.

He opens the door further, careful not to make any noise as you both sneak inside. Your head is telling you to not breath too much, but your lungs are telling you otherwise.

Hoseok leaves you in the entrée for a second to look around the corner into the living room. He comes back looking much more relaxed than when he went.

“Come on,” he whispers and takes a hold of your hand.

When he sees your hesitation to follow him, he explains, “It’s just Yoongi. He’s fallen asleep on the couch watching some fishing thing.”

Hand in his, he leads you past the living room that opens up to the kitchen and down a long hallway. In your hurry, you briefly catch a glimpse of a dark haired male lying sprawled on the couch while the television provides white noise for the sleeping body.

The open space is actually quite spacious, with a set of large floor to ceiling windows that are providing one hell of a view of Seoul. And it opens up to a large kitchen as well. It makes you wonder what the rest of the apartment looks like and how much exactly they pay to live in a place like this.

Much cost a fortune.

But you don’t get to register more of the place, because Hoseok has you in what you hope is his bedroom with the door closed and locked behind you within seconds almost.

He turns on the overhead lights and you have to blink a few times to adjust to the now brightly lit room.

You’ve spent so many days and nights at your small apartment, that you’ve many times wondered what his place and his room looked like, and you have to admit that it’s nothing like you imagined it in your mind.

It’s much more spacious and… clean? Not that you thought he was a dirty person, but it’s much more organized and put together. Everything has its place, a home where it belongs.

“I’m impressed,” you comment as you turn to his bed that looks freshly made with new sheets and all.

Hoseok grins, wrapping his arms around you shoulder from the back, hugging you close. “What? You thought I was some kind of slob?” he whispers in your ear.

“A slob? No. But it’s much more organized that what I imagined.”

Turning in his arms, you bring yours around his neck and you have to crane your neck back to look him in the eyes – him being almost a head taller than you.

“I like things to look nice.” He shrugs and pecks your lips.

“I like it.”

“Good.” Another peck and then he sets you free to roam around his room.

Taking full advantage of the opportunity, you move about his room. Starting by the desk that sits in front of the large window. There’s nothing much to see there, only his computer and a few books and some notepads with some scribbles on it.

So you move on, the full length mirror on the wall catching your eye. Or not the mirror, but the various of pictures around it – framing it.

You notice the same faces in many of the pictures. You point to a picture of Hoseok with six other guys. It’s a group shot of all seven of them – sitting together on one couch and posing for the camera.

“Are they the infamous roommates?”

“Indeed they are.” He smiles coming to stand behind you. “We were at a housewarming party and someone took that of us.”

Hoseok continues and points to the guy sitting all the way to the left, “That’s Jungkook. He’s the youngest of the seven of us. And that’s me,” he says next, “and I – of course – need no introduction,” he wiggles his eyebrows dropping a kiss to your neck. Playfully you hit his arm.

“That’s Taehyung,” he goes on. “the second youngest. Then we have Jimin. He’s colored his hair every color of the rainbow by now. He likes to experiment.”

“What color is it now?”

“Brown. His hairdresser told him to stop dying his hair for a while or else he would go bald.” He smirks, the image of a bald Jimin seeming funny to him.

“And that’s Namjoon. You and him actually have something in common.” He continues.

“What?” You ask curiously.

“You’re both really good at English.”

“Oh. Is he the only one that speaks English?”

“No no, combining the rest of us we know a great deal of words.”

You laugh at his sarcasm, but quickly quiet down when you remember where you are.

Hoseok points to the guy next to Namjoon. “That’s Jin, he’s the oldest amongst us, but by the way he acts sometimes you wouldn’t think it. And lastly, that’s Yoongi. Along with Jin he cooks most of our meals for us.”

Lightly you run your finger down the edge of the picture, your eyes zoning in on Hoseoks bright smile. The picture clearly shows how great of a bond they have with each other, all laughing and smiling.

“They are all very good looking.”

“Ya!”

“What?” you ask innocently, a light shrug rolling from your shoulders.

“I’m the only one you’re allowed to think is good looking.” He pouts, his bottom lip protruding.

Turning, you minimize the distance between you, throwing your arms around his neck and softly giving his lips a chaste kiss. “You are all very handsome, but you are the one that I’m attracted to. You are the one that makes my heart flutter with a simple look.”

He seems pleased to hear you say this. “I make your heart flutter huh?”

“You do.”

“Good.”

No further words are exchanged between you. Instead your lips lock together – starting out as an innocent sweet peck, but you both want more. Separating you lips you let his tongue explore your mouth, his hands are resting on your hips where he gently squeezes.

Tingles shoot up and down your spine, a soft moan echoing between you.

Hoseok walks backwards while blindly aiming for his bed. You have no choice but to follow him not wanting to separate.

He falls back and you land on top of him with a small thud. It takes your breath away and you have to pull back to catch your breath.

It’s a good opportunity to look at the man lying beneath you. His gentle lust filled eyes looking back at your curiously as you silently watch him.

God! He really is handsome!

He recently colored his hair a lighter – almost golden – brown and you still find that you have to get used to it, but it looks incredible on him. It makes his eyes stand out and his skin glow.

Running a single finger down the side of his face, over his jawline and across his chin, you can feel the light stubble there, indicating that he hasn’t shaved yet today. You don’t mind it. Not when it’s this short. It’s an added sensation when you kiss – the way it lightly tickles you.

“What?” Hoseok whispers in question to your fallen silence.

“Nothing,” you say. “I just like looking at you, that’s all.”

“I knew you were just using me for my good looks.” He jokes as his arms circle around your waist.

“Don’t forget your body,” you add with a hint of smile.

You absolutely love the way you can joke around with Hoseok. His sense of humor and positive mood is one of the major things that attracted you to him in the first place. He is so bright and bubbly that even if you happen to be in a bad mood one day, his laugh is enough to cheer you up instantly.

“Ah yes, my body,” he muses. “It is a work of art isn’t it?”

You nod your agreement, the smile on your face so big that it’s almost hurting your cheeks. You kiss him, wanting to feel his soft lips pressed against yours. You lavish them with kisses until a small laugh bubbles past Hoseoks lips. You finally settle on a proper kiss, your lips pressing together and your eyes fluttering shut.

You stay like that for a while. With you laying on top of Hoseok, his arms round your waist and your lips moving together in a slow dance.

But the fire inside of you quickly takes charge, your fingers itching to touch him and your entire body tingling in anticipation of what you know he is capable of making you feel.

Wiggling on top of him, you move your legs on either side of his hips, your core coming in contact with his rapidly growing hard on beneath his jeans.

“Hoseok,” you whine against his lips and roll your hips over his.

He groans in response, his fingers digging into your hips as you continue to move them over his crotch. The tension in the room is becoming electrifying, the air filling with you small gasps of pleasure and Hoseoks low moans.

Hoseok slides his hands under the material of your shirt, and despite the warmth of his fingers, goosebumps erupt across your entire back and arms. He slides them up your back in a caressing manner and stops when he reaches the clasp of your bra. Sliding a single finger under the band, he toys with it, making you think that he’s going to unclasp it, but he doesn’t. He leaves it be. Instead he slides both his hands back down to the hem of your shirt where he effortlessly drags it up your body. Your lips part for the time it takes to get the shirt over your head.

When its off, his fingers dance back up your back and this time when they reach the clasp, he unhooks it. Sitting up straight, you slide the straps down your arms till the bra is completely off. You toss it to the floor not caring where it lands.

A low groan erupts from the back of Hoseoks throat when your bare breasts comes into view. Since day one, he has had an obsession with your breasts. The way they fit so perfectly in his hands, the way your nipples become erect at his simple touch. He could combust on the spot.

He follows your seated position, sitting up on the bed with one arm hooked around your waist to keep you close to him, while the other one is busy feeling up your breast. You throw your head back, a gasped whimper rushing into the air when he wraps his lips around your nipple.

Your nipples have always been sensitive, and Hoseok finds great pleasure in using that fact to his advantage. He sucks gently at first, his tongue circling the nub after each suck to soothe the slight sting. He nuzzles his face in the valley between your breasts, his tongue licking from there and all the way up to your neck. Immediately he sucks your skin, eagerly drawing moan after moan from you.

He loves hearing you fall apart from just his touch, it unravels him. His mind going crazy and his body seeking yours.

Clawing at his shirt, you desperately try to get it off him. You need to feel his skin against yours. Hoseok helps you, parting from the spot of your neck to toss it to the floor.

“Fuck, I want you,” he groans, looking you dead in the eyes. The fire behind them is intense, his normally brown eyes turning almost black.

You begin moving on top of him again, “Then take me.” You purr, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

It doesn’t take more than that small sentence to make Hoseok stand from the bed, with you still in his arms. He tosses you on the bed with a devious smirk. With both of his hands now free, he strips out of his jeans and shoes, his black boxers the only thing remaining.

Hungrily, you eye the growing bulge beneath the dark fabric, your entire body tingling with the anticipation of all the pleasure you know is to come in a few short moments.

Kicking off your own shoes, you furiously work your fingers over the button of your jeans, fingers slipping a few times before you finally pop it open. From the end of the bed you hear Hoseok laugh at your struggle to take them off, but he eventually either grows impatient from the waiting or he feels sorry to see you struggle, because he reaches out to help get the jeans off your legs, taking your panties with them in the process.

You lay completely naked on the bed in front of him. Your legs slightly parted and your hands gently cupping your breasts. Hoseok’s eyes rake over your body, from head to toe. Momentarily he stops at the space between your legs – probably his favorite place to be if anyone were to ask him.

With a ragged breath you motion your finger at him, luring him in. Before he climbs on top of you, he rids himself of his boxers. His smooth velvety skin of his hard erection softly bobbing just under his bellybutton. Despite the fact that you have seen his cock so many times, you are always amazed by it every time.

Hoseok lazily places kisses from your ankle, all the way up your calf and the inside of your thigh, his lips teasing your folds, but he swiftly continues upwards placing kisses across your abdomen and between your breasts. Finally, he connects with your lips. His tongue immediately sneaking into your mouth and exploring every nook and cranny. You let him take the lead. Sinking into the mattress and letting your hands explore his chest and back.

With every kiss your desire for Hoseok grows bigger! Your feel like you are on fire, your entire body tingling and your feel desperate to have him.

You manage to maneuver yourself up on your elbows and for a moment you can feel Hoseoks confusion against your lips, until you, with a little help from him, manage to switch your positions.

With you now on top, Hoseok lets you take the lead. He settles his hands on your hips, his thumbs gently stroking across your skin there.

Going in for another kiss, you hum against his lips as you slowly grind against him. His cock nestling between your folds and your arousal making it a lot easier to move. Continuing, you grind on top of him, pre-cum drooling onto his stomach.

Hoseok moves his hands to your ass, kneading each cheek and helping you push your hips over him. He growls, the sound coming from the depts of his throat. “You’re so fucking wet.”

“You make me this wet.”

Another low growl flows through the air and makes you shudder. Sitting up straight, you rest the palms of your hands on his lower abdomen, the movement of your hips never seizing.

You can’t wait any longer! It has been too long since you have last had him to yourself like this. Raising yourself slightly, you reach to grasp his cock. Giving it a few slow tugs and enjoying the way the pre-cum leaks from the swollen tip, before you guide him to your dripping entrance.

Leisurely, you sink down. Your inner walls sucking his cock in inch by delicious inch. The wind is almost knocked out of you once he is completely nestled inside of you. Your fingers claw at the skin on his stomach as you gradually begin to move. Hips rocking back and forth before you gain momentum and really begin riding him.

From you hips, Hoseoks hands travel up your body till they reach your sensitive breasts. There he wastes no time in cupping each of them in his large palms, his thumbs stroking over you erect nipples.

“Fuck…” you gasp. The burning in your thighs are slowly creeping in on your, but you don’t let it stop you, it only spurs you on and you start bouncing on him, his cock glistening with your arousal each time you retreat.

Hoseok notices, “Shit! You have n-“

You are both silenced as voices erupt from the hallway, right outside of Hoseoks room. With a rapidly beating heart you halt on top of him. You don’t even dare breath as the voices continue. After a short minute, Hoseok seems to grow impatient and he takes it upon himself to keep going.

In one abrupt motion he brings your upper body flushed to his chest and raises his leg. Grabbing your ass in both hands, he pounds in and out of you, not caring in the slightest that someone is right outside of the door.

Afraid that you will be heard, you choose to bite down on his shoulder as your hands wildly rip at the sheets beneath you.

Hoseok keeps bouncing you on his cock and at some point, you don’t even hear the voices anymore. You don’t even know if they have left or if you are so wrapped up in the scorching pleasure running through your body that you have just tuned it out completely.

But at this point you don’t even care!

“Hoseok – of fuuuck – I’m gonna cum!” You warn him out of breath.

“Cum!” He whispers hoarsely. “Cum on my cock!”

Rippling waves of pleasure shoot through your body and straight to heat and within seconds you cum. You are gripping his shoulders for dear life as you try your best to not make too much noise. But it is almost impossible when Hoseok doesn’t let up, he keeps pumping in and out of you, drawing the last bits of your orgasm out.

You feel dizzy and like you are having an out of body experience, and you don’t even register that Hoseok rolls you around so that he is now on top.

He still hasn’t finished yet, but he’s close. The way your walls so deliriously contract around him is almost enough to set him off. But he’s not finished with you yet.

Hoseok pick right back up from where he left off. His cock thrusting into you but at a much more leisure pace. You welcome the weight of his body on top of yours, your chests sticking together from the light layer of sweat.

Connecting your lips, you run your fingers through his light locks, a soft gasp of air cursing past your plump lips, as you ravel in the feelings of your post orgasm bliss and the fire you can feel beginning to burn once again inside of you.

It really doesn’t take much for you to cum since you have been with Hoseok. You have never had any trouble in previous relationships, but you have never been this sensitive before – only with Hoseok.

“You like the way I fuck you, huh?” he mumbles, the words vibrating against your lips.

You nod, fingers scratching down his back to the small dimples above his ass, “Yes, so good!”

He slows down, withdrawing from your heat till only the head of his cock is buried inside of you, and slowly pushing back in. You look down to where you are connected, the sight of him slowly working himself in and out of you causing you to clench down around him hard, making it hard for him to push back in.

“Shit!” He curses below his breath. “You’re so tight baby!”

You can do nothing to answer him at this point. Your mind and body too far gone to come up with any kind of answer or sentence that would make sense.

He buries his face your neck, his whole-body tightening, and he begins speeding up. He is now slamming his hips against yours and instinctively you let your legs drop open, creating more space for him to move and also changing the way he hits inside you.

“Hoseok,” you moan his name when the fire furiously spreads and you close your eyes tightly waiting for the explosion.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum! Gonna cum, gon-“ he doesn’t get to finish his sentence, his words being cut off when he uncontrollably cums inside of you, setting off your second orgasm of the night.

He is breathing harshly against the side of your neck, both of your bodies trying to calm down after that ride. With your hands, you gently caress his back. The tips of your fingers tickling his skin causing a low and satisfied hum to come from him.

You are beginning to feel oversensitive with him still buried inside of you, your walls continuously clamming down around him and it’s too much. You wiggle under him, a silent plea for him to pull out.

Thankfully, he gets it and he sits up and slowly pulls out of you. Instantly, you can feel his hot seeds leaking out of you and your cheeks redden. But it doesn’t seem to faze Hoseok in the slightest. The opposite in fact! Hoseok finds it extremely hot to watch his own orgasm leaking out of you. It makes him want to jump right back on you for another round! But he resists the urge to do so – knowing that you would probably pass out.

Instead he settles on, “That’s so fucking hot!” and switches from looking at your reaction to the happenings between your legs.

You cover your face with your hands in embarrassment and groan. “Doooon’t…” you whine.

He can’t help but laugh at how cute you are, being embarrassed by this small matter when only seconds ago he was inside of you doing much dirtier things.

“You’re so cute!”

“Yeah, well I’m not going to be cute when your cum leaks onto your sheets and you’re going to make me change them.” You half jokingly tell him.

“Shit, right!”

Hoseok springs to his ensuite bathroom and comes back seconds later with a hot washcloth. Gently, he wipes between your legs, wiping away the remainder of him.

He pulls a face looking at the sheet. “Some still got on the sheet.”

Sitting up, you wrap yourself in the crumpled up duvet next to you. “I’m not going to change the sheets.” You tell him matter-of-factly. “Your cum, your task.”

He throws the washcloth through the open door of the bathroom and reach for his boxers on the floor. “Your cum is on there too!” He protests pulling them over his hips.

“Yeah well, that is your doing to. You’re the one that made me that wet.”

“Oh so now that’s a bad thing.” He crawls on the bed till he can reach your lips and he pecks them, before he crawls back off.

“Off you get then,” he starts tugging on the corner of the sheet, and your get off the bed so he can strip it off the rest of the way, because there is no way that you are sleeping on sheets with dried cum on them tonight!

With Hoseok working on ridding the bed, you manage to take a look at the state of his bedroom. It is messy! What the hell had you been doing?!

Both of your clothes are scattered across the wooden floor, your bra hanging off the side of his desk chair. One of his pillows has also manage to find its way to the floor, decorated with one of Hoseoks socks strewn across it.

You laugh at the sight… what a mess.

“What’s so funny?” Hoseok asks with the cum filled sheet in hand.

You wrinkle your nose, “Nothing, your room is just a mess now.”

“Yeah…” he murmurs. “Could you please…” he makes a weird gesture around the room with one arm, indicating the mess, “tidy? Just a little bit babe? While I go throw this in the was and get a new sheet.”

“Of course,” you say. “Do you have to go out to get the sheet?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be right back,” he tells you and the he carefully unlocks and opens his bedroom door, and just as carefully closes it behind him.

Now alone in his room, you reach for the t-shirt he had been wearing earlier on in the day. His smell ingulfing you and hugging your body. You also put on your panties for good measure.

You start with your clothes. Collecting it all from the floor and neatly folding it despite the fact the fact that it is has to go straight in the hamper, and place is on his desk chair.

You don’t bother with putting the pillow or duvet back on the bed yet, because the sheet still has to go on first, and since there is pretty much nothing left to “clean” up, you take a seat on the end of the bed and wait for Hoseok to return.

2 minutes pass.

5 minutes pass.

8 minutes.

10 minutes.

13 minutes.

When he’s been away for a whole of 15 minutes, you begin to wonder where the hell he has gone to. Maybe he’s gotten lost or fallen asleep somewhere?

Should you go out there and look for him?

What if someone sees you? What would even happen if someone were to see you? It’s not like they can throw you out… can they? No! Surely not. Hoseok would never allow that!

You take the chance. Softly cracking the door open just enough to take a peek into the hallway. It’s dark and all the doors are closed, but the light in the front room you passed through is still on. Opening the door further, you step out and freeze momentarily.

Still, you can hear no sounds other than the television that is apparently still running in the living room. Is that guy… Yoongi? Still sleeping on the couch? It’s well past midnight, surely, he has gone to his bed by now.

You tiptoe your way down the dark hallway, slowly passing by each closed door as if it might burst open at any moment and reveal an angry roommate.

The closer you get to the light, you start to hear hushed voices coming from the room with the television. You stop to listen. Huh, is that Hoseoks voice? You swear that you can hear his voice coming from the room, but you can’t make out what he or anyone else are saying.

You sneak closer to the corner, your head peeking around hit to see Hoseok, still in his boxers and a newly folded sheet in one hand, standing in front of six other guys sitting on the couch looking like it isn’t almost 3 o’clock in the morning.

“But we made the rule for a reason.” You hear the one sitting closest to you say. You think you recognize him as Yoongi, from the picture and the guy that was sleeping on the couch when you walked in earlier in the evening.

Is Hoseok getting grilled by his roommates right now? Because he brought you here? That leaves an unpleasant feeling in the pit of your stomach and you take that as you cue to enter the room.

“But some rules are me-“

The guys speaking stops when he sees you enter the room behind Hoseok. All six pairs of eyes turn in your direction, in turn making Hoseok look as well. He sighs when he sees you walking up to him.

“What are you doing out here?” He asks you, his eyes eyeing your naked legs.

You had completely forgotten that you were only wearing his t shirt. Thank god you put on your panties! “You didn’t come back and I started to worry that you had gotten lost.” You shyly mumble under his roommates heated stares.

“You worried I had gotten lost?” He smiles. “In my own apartment?”

“It’s a big apartment,” you manage to joke.

You can still feel their stars on you, and you cuddle closer to Hoseoks side for a sense of security, his arm immediately bringing you closer.

“I’m guessing that this is ____,” one of the guys say and stands. He is taller than Hoseok and his hair a pale blond color. He gives you a bright smile and extends his hand towards you. “I’m Namjoon,” he introduces himself.

Shaking his hand, you return his smile. “____,” you say even though he clearly already knows your name.

“We were just talking about you,” Namjoon then proceeds to tell you.

“I heard,” you weakly reply. You want to run away and hide in Hoseoks room, but you settle on nuzzling further into his side.

“Listen guys,” Hoseok begins, drawing all of their attention towards him. “I don’t give a fuck about the rule, okay. We made that rule a year ago when Yoongi kept complaining that Jungkook and Taehyung were bringing random girls back every weekend and keeping him up all night.”

So that is why they instated the “No girls in the apartment” rule.

“But ____ isn’t just a random hookup, we’ve been dating for over five months now and it’s safe to say that she is here to stay.”

No one says anything for a moment until another unnamed boy speaks up, you think you recognize him as Seokjin if you remember correctly from the picture on the mirror. “Okay then, let’s put it to a vote.” He says scooting forward on the couch. “I’m Jin by the way,” he quickly adds with a wink before going on with the voting. “All of those in favor of getting rid of the stupid “no girls in the apartment” rule, raise your hand.”

They all raise their hands except Yoongi, who keeps both of his hands firmly crossed over his chest and sour expression on his face. He is clearly not pleased with the outcome of this evening!

“Well that’s final then!” one of them says, jumping up from the couch. He approaches you with a huge boxy smile and an outstretched hand. “I’m Taehyung, but you can call me Tae.”

“Hey,” you smile back not really know what else to do at this point.

They guy, Jimin, that has colored his hair all the colors of the rainbow, leaves his spot on the couch, dragging another guy with him, now only leaving Yoongi to be seated.

“It’s really nice to meet you,” Jimin says. “Hobi has been less of a pain in the ass lately and I guess we now know why.” He winks and you blush slightly.

Hoseok smacks the side of his arm, “Ya! You the one that’s a pain in the ass!”

Jimin ignores him though, still focusing on you. “Oh! How rude of me not to introduce myself! I’m Jimin.”

“I know,” you accidentally let it slip over your lips and Jimin give you a weird look. You quickly explain, “The guy that’s colored his hair all the colors of the rainbow,” you tell him. “Hoseok has a picture in his room and… and he told me that and I-I remembered…”

“Oh…”

Hoseok cuts in, “Stop interrogating her and go to sleep!” He tells Jimin.

“No one’s interrogating her, we’re just curious,” the other guys cuts into the conversation. “I’m Jungkook.” He smiles.

“Hey…” all of these names and new faces is making your head spin, and not in a particularly good way.

Jungkook points to Yoongi on the couch, “And that’s Yoongi. But don’t mind is sour mood. He’s just annoyed he didn’t get his way! You’re more than welcomed here!”

At this you smile, “Thank you.”

You feel your body starting to relax a bit upon hearing this. You really thought that they weren’t going to accept you or like you, and you would never come in between Hoseok and his life long friends. That would break your heart.

Namjoon claps his hands making every one turn to him, “Alright! Let’s just wrap up this conversation and call it a night. We can get to know ____ more in the morning.”

Everyone agrees with Namjoon and everyone leaves the living room to go to their bedroom.

“That went better than I had expected,” Hoseok comments and plants a kiss on the top of your head.

You give him a tender smile, squeezing his side. A few steps behind you notice Jimin following you down the darkened hallway.

“How did they know I was here?” You dare ask Hoseok in what was meant as a whisper before entering the room.

Jimin hears you say this just as he is passing by to get to his room. “The walls are probably not as thick as you think they are.” He turns and blasts you a full on smirk and a wink before turning on his heel and walks to his room.

“Oh my god!” You groan in embarrassment.

Hoseok laughs as you faceplant into the still unmade bed. “It’s not that bad.” He assures you.

“Really?” You hopefully question.

Closing the door, he drops the new sheet on the floor next to the bed and sits beside you. “Well not for me, you were the loud one.”

“Ugh!” You groan yet again as you want to die in embarrassment!

Thank you for reading! I’ve wanted to do a Hoseok one shot for a while now and I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for so long just waiting to be finished! And now i finally finished it!!! I really hope you liked it! If you did please like and reblog :)

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gamesmakers · 7 years

Text

That Time We Took Over the World

For @mores2sl.

Kensington, England

April 13, 2015

Local Time: 8:42 AM

“Everdeen.” He rose his glass to her before taking a long swig of what had better be water. “And here I thought you didn’t like me anymore.”

“You know, I just spent eleven hours flying here from Los Angeles. I even paid fourteen bucks extra for internet so Effie could get ahold of me if your condition changed. The least you could do is act like you had a heart attack this morning.”

“Yesterday morning, but I’m all right. They’ll get me some stints, and I’ll be better than ever.” Now that she got a good look at Haymitch, she saw what Effie had been so worried about when they talked this, fine, yesterday morning. The IV bag was all too obvious, but all the quips and one-liners in the world couldn’t hide the fifteen years he seemed to have put on since she’d seen him last Christmas. With the extra gray in the beard he never shaved but had never quite filled in and the deep bags under his eyes, he looked far older than fifty-nine. Those decades of hard living had finally caught up with him. “Y’know, I was thinking earlier.”

“You don’t say.” She didn’t care if he had been dead for almost two minutes yesterday. Haymitch walking into his own favorite insult was too good of an opportunity to pass by.

He glared at her. “As I was saying, I was thinking about your career after these goons were still trying to figure out if they’d saved me or not.” If he thought the legion of medical professionals who restarted his heart were goons, he had to be feeling better.

“And what did you decide?” she prompted.

“Now, hear me out. This might not seem like the most natural pairing, but the more I think about it, the more I think it could really work out well. People really dig that fusion shit, you know?”

“Haymitch!”

He took another drink of his water, then set it aside. “So, kid, tell me. What do you know about Peeta Mellark?”

Chelsea, England

April 13, 2015

Local Time: 11:27 PM

In the late nineties, nobody could escape the Tributes - not that anybody besides a few jealous teenage boys and tired parents really wanted to. The more enthusiastic members of the media heralded the five boys as a return to the Golden Age. They sang. They danced. They even made a film that, surprisingly enough, wasn’t terrible. “Like five Frank Sinatras,” one Rolling Stone critic wrote about them, “but more good-looking.” For teenagers who had been holding down part-time jobs at McDonald’s and Burger King not a year prior, it was high praise indeed. But the longer one watched them, the more justified the comparison seemed. With fourteen chart-topping singles and practically constant sellout world tours, they were on the road to the kind of superstardom that actually manages to worm its way into the history books.

But tastes changed, interest waned, and almost as suddenly as they had shot to fame, the Tributes’ career fizzled out. The former teen idols were suddenly the butt of jokes everywhere from late night talk shows to schoolyards. There was an attempt at a comeback, then another, but the only mercy came when the group officially announced their breakup. With that last blast of publicity, the group somehow managed to fade from the public consciousness completely.

Only one member managed to emerge from the rubble unscathed. Finnick Odair had in some ways always been the star of the group. The man was the closest thing the world had to a living, breathing Adonis. Nobody could really blame the army of managers, executives, and publicity workers that fueled any operation as big as the Tributes for wanting to place him in the center of every photograph or giving him the most solos. Issues of consent and sexualization of a sixteen-year-old hadn’t been the world’s main priority as they collectively drooled over the most recent pictures of him. At least publicly, Finnick seemed to have been able to brush that off with no big impact. Even fifteen years later, his new releases were almost guaranteed to land in the top ten, and he snagged the starring roles in some of Hollywood’s biggest movies.

Katniss had never been his biggest fan, but like every other heterosexual female she knew, she followed him on Instagram. Something about the muscular star holding his new baby and grinning really did it for her. She’d blame it on evolution.

Tonight, Finnick Odair wasn’t her main focus. She scrolled down the Wikipedia article to find the section on Peeta Mellark. Okay, she vaguely remembered him from the poster Prim had hung in their shared bedroom when she was in middle school. The article said he had released his first and only solo album seven years ago and continued to tour, though a quick scan of the upcoming dates and venues showed that he was mostly going to small casinos and clubs. Katniss kind of wanted to judge him for that, but then again, Haymitch wouldn’t go around trying to pair her up with a successful artist. Sure, she played guitar – really well, actually, well enough to make a very comfortable living off of session work – but you couldn’t start a conversation with random strangers on the street about Katniss Everdeen’s style.

She clicked out of that article and returned to the YouTube mix entitled ‘Tributes and Peeta Mellark Ultimate Fanmix :-)’. As a thirty-two-year-old woman and devoted artist, did she feel ridiculous sitting here, listening to ‘90s pop? Absolutely. Did she find herself humming along? Well, the Tributes had gotten popular for a reason.

San Bernadino, California

May 4, 2015

Local Time: 9:56 PM

Peeta Mellark took his job very seriously. One would have to if they were going to go onstage at the San Manuel Indian Bingo & Casino in an outfit straight from a music video that came out twenty years ago. The black pants and tight-fitting, primary colored t-shirts had looked a little too Star Trek in 1997, and the look hadn’t aged well. She applauded professionalism and devotion to one’s craft as much as the next person, but there came a point where one should walk away with their head held high and try something outside of entertainment. Katniss estimated Peeta had reached that point about ten years ago. The cheese value of this routine was through the roof. He did more flirting with the audience than actual singing, and every joke had the muddy flavor of having been used night after night for years. In a few spots, no matter how hard she tried to be polite, she had to roll her eyes. Good thing Peeta had managed to comp her a ticket for this show, or she’d be out more than the mileage to drag herself out to San Bernadino.

“For my next song, I’d like to mix it up a little and take suggestions from the audience. Anything’s fair game, mine or not.”

The crowd ate it up the same way they’d gobbled up the jokes earlier. Could they not see that he had a plant? At best, he might take a suggestion from an actual audience member and accept it if it happened to be in the lineup of songs he and his backing group had rehearsed, but otherwise, he’d move on to the predetermined ‘guest’ who’d lob him an easy one. Oldest trick in the book.

“Um, how about you, ma’am? Dark hair, braid, right in front of the stage, very pretty. What would you like to hear?”

It took Katniss a second to realize that he was referring to her. Her mind scrambled through an inventory of thousands of songs, but one kept coming up again and again. “’Til There Was You’.” Not exactly her usual style, and it came as a missed opportunity to see what he could do with something more folky, but oh well. She could grill him on folk’s greats later. It wasn’t like he would actually play her song anyway.

“Gotta love musicals. Who here likes The Music Man?” The crowd cheered as Peeta moved to the piano. Wait, was he actually going to follow through with this? She had to give him some respect for that. His accompaniment wasn’t what she would expect out of a professional pianist, but it got the job done. “I’ve got this on the CD I play when I’m driving to work. It’s one of my favorites.”

The voice she heard then barely sounded like the one she’d heard earlier. That had been as stale as his jokes, but now, he sent emotion rippling through the room. For a moment, Meredith Willson’s metaphorical bells were very, very real, and she did hear them ringing, and maybe, just maybe, Haymitch had been on to something.

San Bernadino, California

May 4, 2015

Local Time: 11:05 PM

After the show, several women her age and older loitered around the stage. Peeta chatted with them one at a time, all winks and smiles that promised something naughty. Now, she had hung around with enough big stars to know that chatting up women after the show was to be expected, but did he not remember that they had a meeting scheduled? According to the schedule Effie had found for her, he had three more shows at this very venue in the next week. There would be plenty of other chances to get laid, but he had royally screwed up his first meeting with a potential business partner. Good to know he had his priorities straight.

Only after he had gathered a few telephone numbers did he deign to join her. “Katniss?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes.” He smiled, and she rose to shake his hand. “After that show, you don’t need any introduction.”

“Nice to finally meet you in person.” Maybe he was just a good actor, but the words sounded genuine. Then again, he had sounded pretty genuine a few minutes ago when he was prepping new notches for his bedpost, so maybe she shouldn’t put too much weight on that. “Sorry to put you on the spot back there. I didn’t realize it was you.”

“You did really well with it.”

“Thanks. I really do have it on CD in my car, but I’d never performed it live before tonight. Especially coming from you, it’s great to hear I did all right with it.” He sat down at the table for two that had been hers alone for the show. “I’ve been reading a lot about you since we talked on the phone. I didn’t realize how many of my favorite albums you’ve been on.” God damn it, she couldn’t let him charm her the way he had those other women, but goodness did it feel nice to hear her work praised. “I mean, you’ve worked with everyone around. The Stones, Madonna, I think I saw McCartney on there too. I know you want to do something more on the folk side, but your catalog is pop and rock and roll royalty.”

“Thanks.” She was going to start blushing if he didn’t tone it down a little. He leaned in just a little, and Katniss met those gorgeous blue eyes, and well, it was too late on that whole not blushing thing. “Really, thanks.”

“Sorry, I just don’t think you studio musicians get enough credit. You’re the ones who make the rest of us look good, and we don’t bother to say thanks often enough.”

Definitely buttering her up, then. Good. That meant he wanted to go through with Haymitch’s scheme, erm, idea. She smiled at him. “Flattering as this is, if we don’t stop trading compliments, I think we’ll be sitting here for hours and I’d really like to go home at some point.” Two could play that game. “I’d like to hear your thoughts on Haymitch’s proposal.”

“Wouldn’t want that to happen,” he laughed. “Y’know, I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and…” his voice trailed off and he shook his head ever so slightly. “I’m not sure it’s what’s best for my career.” Wait, what? How was it that Peeta Mellark, corny C-grade casino performer, was the one putting a stop to this? She had an actual career. At any moment, there were five or ten requests for her to come in and play, and with the big names too, and he thought this wasn’t right for him? Her knuckles went white as she fisted her hands into the tablecloth. He must have noticed, because he immediately backpedaled. “That sounded bad. What I mean is, well, this might not seem like a lot to you, but I kind of like it. I get to travel all the time. I constantly get to meet new people. It’s not a very glamorous part of showbiz, but it keeps food on the table and lets me sing instead of working at the bakery back home.

“That being said, I’ve been doing this at varying levels nonstop for twenty years, and I’m ready to try something new.”

“So you want to go for it.”

“I’d at least like to test some things out, yeah.”

“That’s about at the point where I am too,” she admitted.

He had a great smile. It wasn’t fair, really, that he got the eyes, the smile, and the voice all rolled up in one package. How was the female portion of the population supposed to resist? Katniss stopped herself before she could take that line of thought too far. If things worked out, they would be business partners, and even if people didn’t always respect professional boundaries in this industry, she was better than that. “Then I think this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.”

“Casablanca and The Music Man in one night?”

“Hey, if someone’s said it better already, why not let them say it for you?”

“I hope that’s not the approach you take to songwriting,” she deadpanned.

Peeta winked. “As you wish.”

“Princess Bride, and you’d better.”

Los Angeles, California

June 25, 2015

Local Time: 3:09 PM

“I’m so sorry, that session was only supposed to last the morning. He promised we’d be out by noon.” She really ought to spend some more quality time with that stupid treadmill she’d shelled out six hundred bucks for the Christmas before last. Katniss had only run from the corner to the front door of Haymitch’s office, but even after a few seconds spent panting and wondering if she was about to collapse dead, she still sounded like she was trying for a personal best marathon time.

On second thought, maybe dying wouldn’t have been so bad. Three sets of eyes were on her, the expressions on them a rainbow that went from concerned to amused to annoyed. Yes, an hour and forty minutes late was bad, but she had called as soon as she knew the session was going to run long.

Peeta broke the silence first. “Hey, Katniss. How are you?”

She smiled at him as she took the remaining seat. “I’m pretty good. Howa bout you, Peeta? Effie?” She didn’t need some smartass answer from Haymitch right now, so she left him out.

Not that that strategy ever worked. “So, who chased you up here?”

He got a well-deserved glare for that one. “I just couldn’t wait to get back in your presence. It’s such a magical place to be.”

Effie giggled at that, light and tinkling, but then it was all business. “We’ve been filling Peeta in on the basic business plan we have for you. Katniss, you’ve said that you have quite the catalog of songs built up, so we figured it would be best to use one of them for first single.” She turned to Peeta. “You’ll love them. She won’t brag about them, modest thing she is, but Haymitch has played a few of her demos for me, and they’re just lovely.” If Peeta wasn’t here, she would have hit him. She’d never given Haymitch permission to show any of those recordings to anybody. “If we can’t find anything we like in there, we can always find something to cover, but well, neither of you is getting any younger, and it’s better to get something out as soon as possible.” Katniss did her best not to flinch at that. She knew age was more of an issue for her than Peeta. Female stardom seemed to have an expiration date of around thirty-five, and she was getting closer every day. “Ideally, we’ll have you in the studio next week, have a single out on iTunes in six weeks tops. Then we’ll get you out on tour and hope for the best.”

“Do you ever hope for anything else?” Haymitch asked. “Ouch!” Oh good, if Effie hadn’t kicked him for that, Katniss would’ve had to, and after that admittedly short run, she didn’t feel like moving at all.

Effie smiled at them. “Any questions?”

She and Peeta exchanged glances and shrugs. “I think we’re good.”

“Excellent. Then let’s get started on the paperwork.”

To both of their credit, neither groaned audibly, but Katniss was pretty sure it was a shared sentiment.

Los Angeles, California

June 29, 2015

Local Time: 9:40 AM

Buttercup had only stayed with her for a week while Prim was out of town, and that had been a month ago, but she still found orange cat hair all over her furniture. On days like today, when she wore black, she might as well just add a pair of Tigger ears to complete the costume. Peeta’s black pants were going to be a mess when he got up too. Fingers crossed, he wouldn’t notice.

It would be a lot harder to ignore the fact that she’d said she was going to the kitchen to find some snacks but would return empty-handed. She blamed it on the rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle. Her minifridge currently held the three-day-old remnants of a meal at Chili’s, three bottles of beer, half a jar of dill pickles, and a thing of ketchup. She didn’t even like ketchup. The pantry wasn’t much better. She’d been trying to cut down on her salty snacks habit, which was both doing nothing to help her slim down and not very helpful when it came to being a gracious hostess.

Opening the fridge a second time did nothing to help finger foods magically appear. What a time for witchcraft to fail her. She settled for grabbing two of the beers and heading back to the living room. A+ hostess. They ought to stamp her high society entrance ticket right now.

Peeta sat cross-legged in the center of the room, eyes closed and swaying along with the music flooding through the oversized headphones. She had spent hours over the past three days going through the songs she’d written over the years. Like everything, ninety percent of them were absolute shit, but she hadn’t touched some of them since high school, and revisiting them had brought her almost as many smiles as cringes. Almost.

“Anything sticking out to you?”

Peeta slipped off the headphones. “Yeah. How do you not have a solo career? Your voice is great.”

“Not what I was asking.”

“But inquiring minds want to know.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Want a Bud Light?” She hadn’t even been prepared enough to buy decent beer.

“Yes, please.” She handed him the bottle, and he cracked it open and took a long sip, studying her the whole time. “You know, I’m not sure what to think of you.”

“Thank you very little.”

He grinned. “Caddyshack?”

“Yep. Two can play at that game.” She sat down on her sad, worn couch and opened her own beer. “And one can win.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to turn it into a competition. I’ve been touring at least eight months of the year for the past decade, and Netflix and I have spent a lot of quality time together.”

“I thought you liked traveling.” He had said that, hadn’t he? She probably should’ve been paying more attention to the words he said and less to the lips that said them during their earlier meetings, but who could blame a girl for looking? A painfully single woman whose only serious relationship had petered out eight years ago had every excuse.

“Oh, I do, a lot. And I try to get a good taste of the local culture wherever I go, but when you’re in Boise for the sixth time, you kind of run out of new things to do.”

“Fair.”

“Okay, you’ve dodged the question for long enough. Who are you?”

That question made her feel like a Bond girl: sexy, mysterious, and more likely than not playing both sides flawlessly. Too bad she had no idea what those two sides would be in this situation and all her foreign, ‘exotic’ accents were shit. “I’m not sure what you’re after.”

He scooched away to lean back against the room’s single chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not a bad thing. You’re just hard to figure out is all.” Peeta paused for a minute, collecting his thoughts. “What I mean is, I don’t understand why you’d be interested in this arrangement. You’re a rock guitarist, and you’re very successful at it, but the stuff you want to record is all pretty folky. I’m open to anything, but my background’s in pop.”

“Haymitch suggested it, and I thought it sounded like a good idea.”

“That doesn’t add up either. Why is it that you have a manager that’s mostly involved in the country scene?”

“Oh, that’s just coincidence. Haymitch was married to my mom for a very short time when I was a teenager, and we stayed in touch after they divorced. He actually got me my first break.” She rose one eyebrow. “That, or we’ve carefully crafted an intricate spider web of lies with which to entrap you.”

“A guy can never be too careful. The pretty ones are dangerous.”

She made note of that comment so the part of her that was still fourteen could overanalyze and obsess over it later. “Do you have a song picked out?”

“I’ve got it narrowed down to three, but I’m leaning toward ‘Mockingjay’.”

“I like that one too. Want to go for it?”

He laughed. “We’ve really put a lot of careful consideration into all of this, haven’t we?”

“Let’s call it great minds thinking alike instead.”

Annapolis, Maryland

September 1, 2015

Local Time: 9:07 PM

Peeta looked over to her and grinned. Ready? he mouthed.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, hoping the butterflies would fly out of her stomach as she exhaled. When had that ever worked?

“Don’t worry. You’ll be great.” He could say that all he wanted. He’d been doing shows practically constantly for twenty years. Bill Clinton had still been president the last time she did a live gig. No, maybe it had been in 2001, right after Bush the Younger came into office. Either way, if it had been long enough that she didn’t remember the year, she certainly didn’t know what it would feel like. Fuck, it had been a few years since she’d been able to ride a roller coaster without feeling sick to her stomach the rest of the day, and that was way less adrenaline than getting in front of two hundred people and singing. Never mind that most of them were there to see Peeta, and that she was a sideshow attraction at best, she’d still be up there with him, and –

“Katniss, don’t worry. It’ll be fine. I mean it.” Peeta gave her upper arm the gentlest of punches. “You’re great. If you can play for Paul McCartney and impress him, you’ll amaze these people.”

Like wax strips, sometimes it was just better to tug things off as quickly as possible, bleeding or other bodily injury be damned. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“All right.” He winked. “Here’s looking at you, kid.”

She frowned at him. “Casablanca, and that’s not the spirit at all.”

Peeta gave her another one of those grins that she was quickly coming to hate – or love, if there was any difference. “But it got your mind off of it.”

Annapolis, Maryland

September 1, 2015

Local Time: 10:56 PM

There wasn’t bleach strong enough to wipe the smile off her face. Who cared if she’d forgotten some of the words in the third verse of “Blowin’ In The Wind”? It hadn’t been her favorite song since middle school, and nobody could understand what Dylan was singing half the time anyway. It lent authenticity to their performance. The adrenaline had kicked in somewhere around the third number, and she hadn’t even wanted to take a break in between sets. While Peeta had gone to grab them some water, she had stayed on stage, singing any song that came to mind. Rock, folk, show tunes, at this point, she didn’t care. Why had she ever cared about that? Distinctions were stupid. She could play one thing as well as another, and if the audience didn’t mind, she wasn’t going to act all high and mighty about which things were better than which. Who got to decide what was good and not? Not her, that’s for sure, and if she had her way, they’d stop using words like that. Outdated language was what it was, not taking into account personal taste. As always, the patriarchy stayed hard at work, grueling over their 1950s-era language like they knew best. They’d be upset when they got home and realized she didn’t have dinner ready for them, but their time was long gone, and hers had dawned.

“It’s about time that we wrap up for tonight.” A few audience members groaned at Peeta’s words. He cocked his head and grinned. “Don’t be too sad. We’re going to miss you too. But, before we head out, we’ve got a real treat for you: our first public performance of our new single, ‘Mockingjay,’ now available!”

“One, two, three, four!” She started with the guitar, and there it was, out for the world to see. Katniss had practiced this song hundreds of times since Haymitch and Effie pulled this tour together two weeks before. Every night before bed, every morning when she woke up. If she wasn’t playing it, she was thinking through it, running through the chords, quizzing herself on the lyrics. Her fingers knew what to do, and the word slipped out without any conscious thought, and for the first time in years, she could just be.

She watched, and she listened, but mostly, she floated above everything. It sounded so cheesy in retrospect, but she felt like she was in the audience more than on stage, watching herself and Peeta as an outsider. She loved it, all of it. The words sat right in a way that only her own words could, the representation of feelings that, though shared in some respect with the rest of humanity, were hers and hers alone. She basked in his voice, swayed with her accompaniment, and the chorus slowly pulled her back to herself. At the second chorus, she and Peeta locked eyes, and they didn’t break their gaze until the last chord finishing reverberating through the room.

Applause made her nerves light up brighter than the Christmas tree at the Rockefeller Center. Heat rushed to Katniss’ cheeks, and as soon as she finished two stiff bows, she got the hell out of there. Though Peeta had spent several minutes greeting fans after his show in San Bernadino, he followed only a few steps behind. “You were great!” he said, beaming. Post-gig afterglow was definitely a real phenomenon.

“You think so?” She should say something nice about his performance back, but her mind was still reeling from all of it, and that had only been a hundred and fifty people. What would she do if they ever sold out a stadium? Probably too early to be thinking about that, considering that before the show, they’d only sold ninety-seven copies of ‘Mockingjay’ on iTunes, and that number included Prim, her mom, and all of Peeta’s family, but it never hurt to plan ahead.

“Incredible.” He’d moved even closer. From here, it was impossible not to notice how brilliantly blue his eyes were, and she just wanted to stare at them for a while, commit every detail of them to memory. It didn’t register that there might be a reason Peeta’s face was so close until his lips met hers.

One hand found his shoulder while the fingers of the other carded through thick blonde hair. He wrapped his arms around her, warm and strong, and she sighed against him, moving herself in closer still. Peeta’s breathing turned ragged as his fingers brushed against the back of her neck, and though she keened into the touch, the rational part of her brain finally kicked in. Katniss wanted nothing more than to give in, to do as she’d wanted to from the moment they’d met, but as warmth and desire curled and pooled within her, she moved her lips away from his. “Peeta,” she said, breathless. “Peeta, this is a bad idea.”

His forehead furrowed for the briefest of instants, then he stepped away. “I’m sorry. I thought – never mind. I apologize.”

“No, don’t.” God, she wanted to kiss him again, replace that regret with the passion she’d felt just seconds prior. She wet her lips, and his eyes followed the motion. “I mean, don’t be sorry. Just don’t do it again.”

“Of course,” he responded, avoiding her eyes. Somehow, she doubted the plain white wall was really that interesting, but Katniss wasn’t going to call him out on that. She’d done enough damage already. “Um, should I go, or do you want me to stick around and walk you back to your room?”

She was more than capable of finding her way from the hotel’s club back to her room, thank you very much, and any other time, she would make sure he knew that. “I’d like to walk with you.” Katniss glanced down at his hand, thought about how nice it would be to walk up hand in hand, invite him inside, let herself cut loose for the first time in months, but he stuffed his fists into his pockets. “Peeta?” she asked. “It really is all right.”

He gave her the stiffest nod she’d ever received.

Milwaukee, Wisconsin

November 7, 2015

Local Time: 8:31 AM

“Katniss!” The door rattled on its hinges as he knocked. Wanted to wake up the entire hotel, did he? “Katniss!”

Eight thirty was way too early to be dealing with this kind of shit. Still, she didn’t want the poor guests that got stuck next to her to have any more of their mornings ruined. With a sigh, she hoisted herself out of bed and padded over to the door. “What’s wrong?” she said as the door swung open to reveal a far too excited Peeta.

“Wrong? We’re in the top ten!”

“Wait, really?” Any remaining grogginess disappeared in an instant. “Let me see!”

He pressed his phone into her hands and stepped further into her room.

Her hand flew up to her mouth to cover her gasp. There it was, everything she’d been dreaming of. A top ten chart, and there they were, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, right at sweet, sweet number three. She never thought she’d live to see the day. It had seemed impossible, the ultimate pipe dream. No, some random pipe had a better chance of being stolen and made into a found art item valued at a million dollars than she had of releasing a hit single. Incredible. Just incredible.

She turned at a popping sound to see Peeta standing next to the dresser, pouring two glasses of champagne. Usually, she’d say it was too early to start drinking, but today, Katniss could get away with anything. Damn responsibility. Who was going judge her for a little early-morning alcohol? The only other person who knew about this was right there in the same boat with her.

Wait, what chart was this? God, she hoped it was the Hot 100. Anything was a godsend, but Billboard… Billboard was something else, and –

Sverigetopplistan. There was no way that was a real word. She couldn’t even begin to pronounce it. But it had the words ‘top’ and ‘list’, and that couldn’t be good.

A quick Google search told her everything she needed to know. “We’re only number three in Sweden?”

“We’re actually at three in Finland too. ‘Mockingjay’ is doing really well all across Scandinavia. I know it’s in the top twenty in Denmark and Norway, and I want to say it’s doing about the same in Latvia or Lithuania – I don’t remember which. Isn’t it great?”

“Uh, yeah.” She couldn’t help that her voice sounded a little flat.

Peeta winced. “Sorry, the way I said that made it sound like we had it on the British or American charts, didn’t it? I wasn’t trying to get your hopes up.” He held up the glass. “Champagne? I shelled out for some halfway decent stuff.”

She accepted the glass. “Thanks. To us?”

“To our continuing success,” he replied. They clinked their glasses together. “You know, I think we’re looking at this the wrong way. We are now international pop stars.”

“We appeal to the more refined tastes of the European market,” she added.

“America might be our homeland, but it is also our respite from our legions of devoted fans.” The CDC probably classified Peeta’s smile as a communicable disease. “Why would you want to be on the Walk of Fame in Hollywood when you could be on the one in Stockholm? Much cleaner.”

Katniss laughed and went for another sip of champagne only to find it was all gone. He noticed and went to fetch the bottle. “We can’t have you running out of champagne. After that first hit, you never know when the diva behavior is going to start kicking in.”

“You know, you’re really lucky that you’re cute, because otherwise, there’s no way I would put up with that.” The words just slipped out before she could really think about what she was saying. She hadn’t drank enough yet to blame it on the champagne yet, either. Damn it. Alcoholism was a terrible disease, and she understood that, but what she wouldn’t give right now to use Haymitch’s ‘I haven’t been in complete control of my actions for a decade’ excuse.

Peeta’s grin widened. “Just how much would you let me get away with?” His expression was pure sin, and Katniss blushed practically down to her toes.

“Has Haymitch heard the news yet?” Time to change the subject before she said anything even more regretful.

And as though flirting was as easy to turn on and off as a light switch – and for him, maybe it was – Peeta was back to friendly but professional. “Yeah, he’s the one who called me. Believe it or not, I don’t spend my mornings browsing the Scandinavian pop charts.”

“You might have to start now.”

“Good point. Guess I can work it into my busy schedule somehow,” Peeta laughed.

Gary, Indiana

November 23, 2015

Local Time: 10:14 AM

Peeta was a world-class pacer. Unless social niceties dictated that he absolutely had to sit, the man kept to his little four steps forward, right turn, four steps, right turn habit at all times. And so when Katniss walked into his hotel room – they’d left knocking behind weeks ago – to find him talking on the phone and standing stock-still in the very center of the room, she immediately grew concerned.

He didn’t notice her presence, too focused on his conversation to hear soft footsteps against the carpet. She moved back towards the door. He deserved his privacy as much as anyone else. “Yeah, for sure. That’d be a great opportunity, and I’m sure Katniss is on board too.” At the sound of her name, she froze. “I just need to check that the schedule will work out. We’re on the road right now, and you know how I am with dates.” He paused while the person on the other end spoke. “Of course. I’ll call our manager right now and get back to you as soon as I’ve got something. Yep, talk to you soon. Say hi to Annie and Ronan for me.”

“Who was that, and what am I on board for?”

Peeta jumped at the sound of her voice, but he quickly recovered. “Finnick. He’s got a big tour coming up, and his opening act canceled on him at the last minute. He’s wondering if we’re available.” She managed to keep her mouth from falling open, but only barely. Peeta laughed. “Yeah, that was my reaction too. He says he really likes ‘Mockingjay,’ and Annie – that’s his wife, she’s a sweetheart – has been playing it nonstop for days.”

In any other circumstance, she would be flattered, but her mind could only focus on one of those ideas at a time. “He wants us to tour with him?”

“Yeah. Isn’t it great? I mean, you do want to, right?”

“When?” She sounded breathless. Accurate.

“His first show’s in Seattle on the fourteenth.”

“Three weeks.” Okay, they could do three weeks. It might be a little bit of a logistical nightmare to get everything together, but it was an achievable logistical nightmare with some fantastic benefits. How many people attended each of Finnick’s concerts? She’d gone and seen him at the Hollywood Bowl a few years ago with friends, and that place had to seat twenty thousand, easy. He could probably sell out much bigger stadiums, too, and even if the audience wasn’t super excited by the prospect of listening to something kind of folky before the pop show, that was still twenty thousand more people exposed to their music, and even if only one, two percent wanted to go and pick up the album…

“Katniss? What do you think?”

She snatched his phone out of his hand. “I’m going to call Haymitch. He and Effie can make this work. I don’t care if we have to rearrange a few other dates.” She laughed, probably looking like a crazy woman. Oh well. Crazy old witch was one thing, but successful crazy old witch was pretty freaking fantastic.

Los Angeles, California

December 9, 2015

Local Time: 4:21 PM

Beyond a nice dinner with Prim at Sae’s, Katniss scheduled nothing for the two weeks she would be in Los Angeles before they started touring again. Nothing was going to get in the way of her sleeping as much as possible. She put in a grocery order with a delivery service and checked out of life for two weeks. After more than two months of almost-nonstop touring, she deserved it.

It got old after two days. By the third, she was ready to pull hair, and whether it was hers or someone else’s didn’t much matter. Most of her friends weren’t around on an everyday basis – she supposed that kind of came with the entertainment business – and anyway, she’d never been the most social sort. Katniss knew she should be resting up for the next tour, but instead, she found herself filling every waking moment with something. The pervs that hung out on practically every street corner in Los Angeles had always turned her off of walking around the city by herself, but almost every day, she took hours-long walks around her area. She ducked into art galleries and coffee shops she’d noted as places to check out but never managed to get to and wandered around the city’s parks, snapping photos and picking the occasional flower when no one was watching.

As she explored, she allowed herself to think. Big mistake. She didn’t confine herself to any single topic, and she covered quite a bit of ground. Art, the meaning of life, whether or not she’d remembered to lock the apartment on her way out, all of it came up. But she mostly thought about Peeta. He was three thousand miles away in Boston, and she still couldn’t get away from him. Peeta Mellark had ruined ogling cute blond guys, because none of them could quite measure up. She’d see some diet-busting pastry in a window, and her mind would leap to the cheese buns and raspberry tarts she’d tried from his family’s bakery when they’d played that gig in Worcester. He had even infiltrated her blessed TV-watching, because flipping through channels, she’d end up on TCM, and there he was again with one of those movie quotes that she hated but couldn’t get enough of.

When she ended up watching one of the films, she’d text quotes to him, and no matter the time of day, within thirty seconds, he replied with the title. Katniss hoped he cheated and googled them. Nobody should have watched No Orchids for Miss Blandish enough times to be able to quote it.

Damn boy was driving her nuts. She’d given Delly a hard time in high school for crushes far less consuming. How low had she fallen?

Three more days until she saw him again, but who was keeping track?

Seattle, Washington

December 12, 2015

Local Time: 3:09 PM

“Peeta!” She ran towards him, luggage in tow. Two little old ladies moved to one side so she could pass, and one flashed her a thumbs up. Katniss had him wrapped in a hug the instant she got close enough. “How are you? How was Boston?”

He squeezed her. “I’ve been good. Kind of wondering why I thought it was a good idea to visit home in February, but it was good. Nice to see everyone.” He broke away first. Smart move – airport baggage claims were hardly the place for public displays of affection, even completely platonic ones between friends that definitely didn’t want to screw each other. “So, how’s California? Ten below and covered in snow like Boston?”

“Isn’t it always?”

Peeta laughed, and wow, had she missed that. Cliché as it was, Katniss was convinced that one noise could light up an entire room, maybe power all the street lights in Seattle for the rest of the year. “I’m sure you froze half to death.”

“I wore shorts every day I was home.”

“So did I. They only had to amputate one limb.”

“If you two are done, we’ve got the car waiting outside.” She spun to find Haymitch standing behind them and waiting.

“Hey, Haymitch. How’ve you been?”

“Good. Get in the car.” He pushed Peeta in front of him and stayed behind with Katniss a moment. “What do you think you’re doing, kid?”

She shook her head. “I have no idea anymore.”

Seattle, Washington

December 12, 2015

Local Time: 11:30 PM

“You know, I’ve been to rehab three times, and marrying your mother is still the worst mistake I’ve ever made.”

“Rehab was a mistake?” She couldn’t let something like that slide.

“No, the choices I made that landed me there were mistakes.” Haymitch took another swig of his Southern Comfort. “And the first time I went to rehab was a mistake too - made me think that getting clean was gonna make me come to Jesus or some shit like that, scared me off the idea for years – but that’s not the point. They always tell you that your drinking is affecting the lives of the people you love, and trust me, they’re right. They’ve got more scientists than I can count running all kinds of studies and coming up with figures to show you how right they are. And I’m good at fucking up the lives of the people around me – you’ve seen it more times than I want to remember.”

Katniss nodded, wary. She was used to Haymitch drunk, or angry, or the quiet, determined way he got when he had a plan that he was dead-set on seeing to completion, but she hadn’t seen this kind of open emotion from him before. Frankly, the thought of some baring their soul, particularly to her, made Katniss a little nauseous. She had signed up for Thursday night drinks and catching up, not a feelings orgy worthy of the Hallmark channel.

But he kept going, a steamroller headed downhill at a hundred miles an with no brakes. “Well, I really thought I had things under control this time. Y’know, I’d been to rehab, managed to stay clean for a whole year. Still wanted a drink from the moment I got up right up ‘til I fell asleep at night, but I figured that was to be expected. I know you’ve heard all that before, but it bears worth repeating. Your mom, she just seemed perfect. Too perfect, looking back on things. Gorgeous, smart, patient as can be – you’d have to be, to put up with me.”

She had her own opinion on that matter, but now wasn’t the time. “Haymitch, I’ve got things to do today. You sure that –“

“Let me finish. Long story short, she was too good for me, and I knew it, but I somehow managed to con her into marrying me anyway. And guess what? All I wanted to do was make things better. I really did, and still do, care about how you all ended up, but I couldn’t keep it together, and I ended up taking you all with me. Made you move, have to do the whole new school, new friends thing, made you deal with my problems, forced you to deal with my divorce because I wasn’t responsible enough to deal with my shit by myself.” Tears had gathered in the corners of his eyes. She wasn’t sure if she should try to comfort him or bolt. Katniss settled for reaching over and giving him an awkward pat on the back. Beyond a few handshakes over the years, this might very well be the first time she’d touched Haymitch. She’d been twelve when he’d come into her family’s life, and at a point in her life when she scorned physical contact with everybody, and neither of them had ever been the touchy-feely type. “Cut it out. You see, it’s happening again. I’m the one who made you hurt, and now you’re cleaning me up. That’s what happens when you let someone who’s too good for you in. You take and take until there’s nothing left to give, and when they finally give up and leave you, you’re both left with nothing.”

“You think Peeta’s too good for me.”

Haymitch’s eyes were steady as he nodded.

“Fuck off.” God, she wanted to leave with that, but something kept her rooted in place. She choked on something that wasn’t quite a laugh and bordered on a sob. “That’s precious, coming from you.”

“There’s a reason we get along so well, sweetheart. Here, have some.” He pushed the bottle towards her, but she pushed it away as she rose, spilling fat drops of amber liquor all over the pristine white couch. It’d be a bitch to clean up later, she reflected, but then again, so would she.

Katniss didn’t stop running until she was well into the parking lot, and even then, she only stopped because there was no place to go.

That seemed to happen a lot these days.

Toronto, Ontario

January 10, 2016

Local Time: 11:11 AM

When she and Peeta had gone on tour previously, it really had been just the two of them, Peeta’s Lincoln, and four different hotel rewards cards. They didn’t have a lot of extra equipment, so there was no need for anyone to help them haul anything, and though there were at least daily phone calls with Effie and Haymitch, nobody needed to be there to hold their hand and get them to the gigs on time. It was bare-bones, but it was fun. Yeah, that meant that she had spent an evening in Peeta’s car with a bottle of nail polish remover after a less-than-successful attempt at giving herself a pedicure in a moving vehicle, but they also got to talk and joke and stop at stupid roadside attractions whenever they felt like it.

Finnick’s touring was as far away from that as one could get. First of all, they had a private jet. She supposed that made sense, as thirty-five people accompanied Finnick everywhere. Family, security, personal assistant, sound engineer, stage coordinator, the backing group, Katniss, Peeta, and two people whose purpose on the tour remained a mystery even four weeks into the three-month stint. She blamed those people for her current situation.

There was a timid knock, then the door opened just a crack. “Are you feeling okay?” Peeta asked.

“The only reason I know I’m not dead is that everything still hurts.” Her voice came out as little more than a whisper. Katniss had always liked to think that she could tough her way through just about anything. How nice of this cold/flu/sinus monstrosity to rid her of that delusion.

Peeta didn’t move away from the door. Smart guy. “Do you think you’re going to feel good enough to perform tonight?”

“Yes.” That wasn’t even a question. She would have to actually be dead to not show up for tonight’s show. In the halo ring that was this tour, tonight’s show, the only one that would be broadcast live to millions of home viewers, was the pendant diamond, the one your friends were really complimenting when they said how pretty the whole thing looked. They forecasted that twelve million viewers would tune in tonight. She was going to wow every single one of them.

“You can’t talk. How are you going to sing?”

“I’ll rest until then.”

Peeta frowned. “I’ll go to CVS. Do you like pills or liquid cold medicine better?”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Liquid then. I’ll get some soup too. Don’t go around infecting anyone else.”

She mumbled something at that, but even Katniss wasn’t quite sure what point she was trying to get across.

Toronto, Ontario

January 10, 2016

Local Time: 4:55 PM

She loved those green lights. They should make all the lights green. Then the cars could go faster because they’d never have to stop, and all the people would be happy because they spent more time with their families and less time driving. Lots of good things were green. In fact, she couldn’t’ think of a single bad green thing. Money, trees, kale, those rain boots she’d been eyeing at Target since last winter… they should make everything green. It would be nicer that way. “Don’t you think so?”

“Don’t I think what?”

“That everything should be green.”

Peeta shook his head. “I think you’re a lot less coherent on cold medicine than you led me to believe. I don’t have any strong opinions on the color green.”

“That’s too bad.” Peeta had a green sweater that made his arms look fantastic. Maybe she could convince him to wear it more often.

He had other things on his mind. Peeta’s voice dropped. “Look, we’re going to have you lip sync tonight, all right? Haymitch has a tape of your part on all our songs, and all you’ll need to do is mouth along with the words and pretend to play your guitar.”

“Okay.” She hated lip syncing, but it was hard to be upset about things right now. Why think about the bad things when there was so much green?

Toronto, Ontario

January 10, 2016

Local Time: 7:21 PM

The wiggles went through her entire body when she tried to shake the nerves out, tickling enough that she giggled out loud. Her fingers felt fat and sluggish as they danced over her guitar. The object was so familiar that it might have been another limb, but holding it now, it could just as easily have come from another planet. The weight was off, the balance just not there, and when had the strings gotten so little? No matter. She’d made it through three songs. She could handle two more before she went backstage and conked out.

‘Mockingjay’ shouldn’t be too bad. The first chords were easy. It started nice and slow, perfect for beginners and heavily-medicated Katnisses, before picking up speed. She knew what she was doing. Same thing, just faster, and faster, and faster, and then –

She realized an instant too late that this was her verse. Her eyes widened, and she did her best to start mouthing along, but the damage had been done. Whispers from the crowd rolled over her in waves, and it was all she could do to not cry on stage.

They struggled through that next number. She gave it everything she had – so not much – but she couldn’t sell it. Because of her fuck up, both of them would be in the papers tomorrow. They’d never have a successful album. Hell, they might not even be able to record an album. Nobody would invite them on tour again. Peeta might be able to go back to his old career, but maybe not. Opportunities dried up quickly in this business, which she knew better than anyone.

Katniss fell apart as soon as she got backstage. “Katniss, hey, it’s no big deal. I should have told Finnick you couldn’t go on. I’m so sorry.” Peeta’s words burned like acid over fresh wounds. He knew what she had ruined, and here he was, comforting her. If she was going to wreck something for someone, why couldn’t she pick some awful person who kicked puppies or something? Why did it have to be the nicest, sweetest man she’d ever been lucky enough to meet? Haymitch was right. “Katniss, I’m really –“

She kissed him. “Shut up.” Another one, this time harder – and now that he had gotten over his initial shock, he responded. Peeta dragged her close, pressing her tight against his chest. One hand found her waist, and the other toyed with the ends of her braid. His heartbeat was going nuts, but so was hers, so she supposed that was fair, and she –

“Hey, you two have a dressing room for that.” Peeta pulled away, and she turned to glare at Haymitch. He wouldn’t be cowed so easily. “Hey, if you don’t want to start damage control right now, I’m gonna enjoy the concert.”

“It’s okay, Katniss.” Peeta pulled her into their shared dressing room. “It’ll be okay, all of it. I promise.”

The worry swelled over her again. “You can’t promise that.”

“We can avoid the internet for a couple days. It’ll blow over.”

She closed her eyes and nuzzled up against his chest. “Maybe.” At least he smelled nice. Small consolation, but she’d take what she could get.

He kissed the top of her head. “Either way, we can’t do anything about it now.”

Another thought came to her. “I’m sorry if I gave you the flu.” Because she just couldn’t stop screwing up today, could she?

“Hey, it’ll make it easier to not go online, right?” he laughed. Then his voice dropped. “But since I’m already infected, I suppose there’s not anything to keep me from kissing you again, is there?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her level.

Boston, Massachusetts

October 11, 2028

Local Time: 7:31 PM

She’d been convinced that it was Haymitch who always edited the “Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark” page on Wikipedia, but in the two years since his death, it continued to change. Every week, some new, strange story popped up that managed to keep the basic outline of their story the same while putting them into the strangest circumstances. She rather liked this one, a fairy-tale themed story involving dragons (poor Effie), a knight in shining armor, and herself as the beautiful princess trapped in the castle of studio work while she longed to be out among the people. Pity it had to go.

She copied and pasted the short version of the group’s history into editing window and hit ‘submit’. Nowhere near as interesting, but at least there were no beheadings in this version.

Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark are an American folk-rock duo. Since the two artists began collaborating in 2015, they have released four studio albums and toured extensively. Though best known in the United States for their first single, ‘Mockingjay,’ and a lip-syncing controversy that occurred during a televised Finnick Odair performance, the duo has achieved great critical and commercial success in northern Europe. They are most popular in Sweden, where their third studio album ‘Girl on Fire’ held the number one chart position for thirty-one weeks between 2021 and 2022. The duo began dating shortly after meeting in 2015 and married on June 11, 2017 in Mellark’s hometown of Boston, Massachusetts. They are parents to three adopted children: Aster Mellark (born 2019), Rye Mellark (born 2024), and Senna Mellark (born 2026). In September of 2028, Everdeen and Mellark released dates for their Everlark tour, their ninth world tour, with dates across Europe and East Asia.

Only when she was reading it through for the second time did she notice that she’d forgotten to delete the prankster’s last line. Katniss smiled. She highlighted it, and her finger hovered over the backspace key, but she couldn’t bring herself to get rid of it.

And they lived happily ever after.

After all, who was she to argue with the truth?

So sorry I posted this early on Ao3 and FFN. I promise that I can count. Don’t take away my math degree.

#thg #everlark #everlark fanfic #that time we took over the world #mores2sl

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