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milkytheholy1 · 2 years

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Double Trouble

A/N: A bit of a long one today, I've been rewatching Ninjago and a few episodes have stuck out to me that I'd like to cover so expect more like this soon. I'll also be releasing the next part for my Shadow fic, Warming Up To You, in the next coming days so stay tuned. Enjoy!

Cole Brookstone X Female reader

Ultimate masterlist.

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"Focus, Lloyd. Control the power inside you. When you feel a surge welling up, harness it." Jay hummed, watching with anticipation as Lloyd held a lightbulb in his hands.

"I understand, I am in control." he groaned out, the lightbulb slowly glowing green. Jay smiled, rubbing his hands together, "Come on, Lloyd. You can do it." he cheered. The bulb continued to get brighter and brighter, the rest of you were standing at the edge of the dojo watching with uncertainty.

As the bulb continued to glow, a cracking sound filled the room. You turned to Cole, whispering a small "Do you hear that?" As the sentence left your mouth, the bulb exploded, shards shattering in a circle around Lloyd.

"Aah! Stupid light bulb! You're putting too much pressure on me, let me have one more try." he begged. Kai walked up to him, placing a reassuring hand on his back, "Ugh, sorry, Lloyd. That was the last light bulb."

Lloyd frowned, you knew he'd been practising extra hard and yet this is all he had to show for it, a bunch of broken bulbs. Cole grabbed a broom from the supply closet and offered it to Lloyd, "Clean up, Lloyd. We'll continue training tomorrow."

The rest of you gathered into a small group, Jay frowned, rubbing his hands against his face in defeat "What am I doing wrong, Sensei Wu? I can't seem to teach him to control his power."

"Patience, Jay. Sometimes, the greatest opponent we face is ourselves, and that's especially true of Lloyd. Remember where he came from, he's the son of Lord Garmadon. It's going to take time for him to embrace the light." Wu stated, wise as always. You all collectively nodded, but you just wish this whole green ninja, light vs dark thing would happen already.

It always felt like you were one step closer to winning but then the rug would be pulled from under you and you'd have to start all over again. Checking the time, you mumbled to Cole that you were leaving; duty calls so to say.

You were a teacher at Lloyd's old school, though now it was solely for good. You had always wanted to be a teacher, so you could help others and see where their paths would go. It brought you no end of joy, and Kai did say you always liked a challenge. So when the opportunity arose for you to teach at this wayward boarding school you ate up the chance.

Leaving your small village, you couldn't wait to start the next chapter in your life. Your friends were very excited for you, though Nya and Cole seemed a little reluctant.

"What if something bad happens to you?"

"What if the school is still secretly evil?"

"How will we hang out all the time?"

"Who's going to make me cake?"

But it all ended up working out, you got a few days off every so often and would spend the majority of that time with the ninja. Today was your last day off after a three-day weekend. So, with your bags packed, you set off and found your way back to the boarding school in no time.

"Hey there, Miss (L/N)." Brad smiled, watering the flowers outside the main entrance. You thanked the taxi driver as you climbed out of the vehicle, pulling your bags with you, "Brad?" you questioned.

You looked around but saw no one else with him, "What are you doing out here? Why aren't you in class?"

"Oh, erm, well-" he stuttered out, you were now standing in front of him, teacher mode activated. You nodded your head to the entrance, "C'mon, let's get you back to class; we'll talk about this later." you followed on behind him, the large doors slamming shut behind you.

As you were walking, the wheels of your luggage click-clacking along the wooden floor, you noted the lack of students or even teachers in the hallways.

They're probably all in class, you thought.

You had followed Brad to his correct class, watching as he approached the door. But he turned to you before he went in, "Oh, Miss (L/N), I think Principle Noble wanted to see you." with that he walked into the room before you could question why.

You shook the strange thoughts from your head and approached Noble's office, no point in keeping the man waiting. Your skin broke out in goosebumps, even though this school taught good, you couldn't escape the villainous feeling that followed you down every hall. Approaching Nobel's office, you knocked lightly on the door, hearing a short "Come in!"

"Principle Nobel, you wanted to see me?" you said as you opened the door, only to find the office empty.

"Get her!" came a voice from behind, and then you slipped into a deep sleep.

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"Hehe, at least I'm getting better." Lloyd joked as he landed the ultra-dragon, the others slightly shaking as they jumped off the beast. Cole sighed, kissing the ground, "All the same, I'll take the reins going home. Just to be safe."

"Lloyd?" Brad called out, the same watering can in his hand like before. Lloyd shook his head in disbelief, "Uh, Brad?"

"You came!" Brad launched himself at Lloyd, capturing him in his arms, "So good to see you!" Lloyd struggled to get away from Brad's grip, scratching his head when he was finally free, "It is? Y-you put fire ants in my bed, remember?"

"Please forgive me, I wasn't myself and have learned the error of my ways." Brad begged, his attention soon turned to the others, "And you must be the ninja!"

"Uh, guys, meet Brad Tudabone." Lloyd introduced, Brad proceeded to shake everyone's hands, "Such a huge fan! Go good! Haha. Uh, please, will you follow me to see the Principal?"

Brad led everyone inside, the hallways still empty as were the classrooms, "Uh, shouldn't you all be in class?" Cole questioned. He would occasionally pop his head into a room to see if you were teaching, only to come up empty-handed.

"Actually, today is a new Darkley School tradition: Ninja Day. We stay out of sight to honour the way of the ninja for showing us the light." Brad smiled, continuing down a few more hallways.

Cole stood straighter, baring his chest out with his hands on his hips, "Huh, this is a good school. I'm impressed."

The group arrived at a door, a shadowy figure behind it. Brad rasped his knuckles along the wooden frame, "Principal Noble? Lloyd and the ninja are here for the ceremony."

"That, and the cake. By the way, do you what kind it is?" Cole butted in. Noble's voice echoed out of the room to the ninja it sounded fine, but something about it put Lloyd off, "I'll be with you in just a moment."

Brad excused himself, something about tending to his flowers. Jay looked around, uneasy, "Um, heh, has anyone seen a teacher yet?"

"Indeed, their absence is most strange," Zane added, but no problems came up in his systems. The office door slowly opened, Noble's voice continuing, "I'll see you now. Come in, come in."

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"This sucks," you huffed, feeling the harsh fibres of the rope rub roughly against your skin. A handful of students stood in front of you with guilty smiles, "Sorry, Miss (L/N). But this is all part of the plan to get revenge on the ninja!"

"Where are the other teachers? What have you done with them?" you question, glaring at one boy in particular. Gene stepped forward, separating himself from the crowd, "They're in the staff room, we brought you here because you're different."

"Different?"

Gene shook his head, walking around you as he monologued, "You not only know the ninja, but you're also quite close with them too. We've done our research and thanks to Ninjago Gossip, we know you and the Earth ninja are in a secret relationship!" he accused.

You jolted at the accusation, eyes wide and mouth agape, "W-what? T-that's not true." you rambled, "Me and Col-I mean the Earth ninja aren't in any kind of relationship, that's just a rumour." you continued. Gene continued though, "Whatever it is, he'll come to your rescue and then we can further my genius plan!" he cackled.

"What happened to being good, I thought you were enjoying the new classes?" you sighed out, wriggling against the ropes. Gene chuckled weakly, "We were never good, we only enjoy being pure evil!" The rest of the children laughed along, they soon left shortly after to, quote-on-quote, "Deal with the ninja."

At least you knew the ninja were here, and Cole would come looking for you. Yet knowing that the whole of Ninjago thought you and Cole were dating was something your brain couldn't wrap around. Sure, you went on that date after the serpentine hypnotised Jamanakai Village. And sure, you perhaps went on three more dates after that, but you were never official.

A few minutes had passed, you hated how actively your mind was thinking about Cole now. Luckily some commotion from outside broke you free of your thoughts, it sounded like something serious was happening. The sound suddenly stopped, you leant forward trying your best to understand the situation.

Just then the door burst open, smoke and dust clouded the room before a figure became visible. Dressed in all back, you'd recognise that gi from anywhere, "Cole!" you beamed. He looked at you with mischievous eyes, you couldn't see his full face but you could only assume there was a grin to match.

"You look good like this, makes me not want to untie you."

"W-what?" you gawked, unsure if you heard him correctly. He came to kneel in front of you, placing a delicate finger under your chin, "Maybe once this is over, we can go back to your place, huh?" he pulled his mask from his face; and what do you know? He was smirking.

You opened your mouth weakly, unable to say anything in response. Cole smirked, "What? Cat got your tongue?" He eventually unwrapped you, keeping you close in his arms, "C-cole, what's gotten into you?" you finally managed to say. Cole twirled you in his arms, pulling you back and forth in a swift dance, "Maybe the schools rubbing off on me."

"Maybe," you whispered, now extremely close to his face. You and Cole had yet to kiss, again, you'd only been on a few dates and the most it led to was falling asleep together on the couch in your apartment. Lost in your mind again, and partly Cole's eyes, the Earth ninja pushed his head forward and connected your lips together.

It felt...wrong. All this time you thought, you anticpated, that this moment would be magical and yet now you're here...it's not. There were no sparks of love, no tingly feelings in the pit of your stomach. Opening your eyes, you could feel rather than see Cole snickering above you. But now that you'd got a closer look at him, he looked different. He was a little paler than usual, his eyes not the same as before, it didn't feel like him or acted like him for that matter.

You pulled away, putting distance between you both, "What's wrong, babe?" he asked, taking steps closer to you.

"I-y-you're not Cole," you declared, albeit nervously. This fake, this imposter, this Bizzaro version of Cole laughed, "What do you mean?"

"You're not him," you swatted away his incoming hands, he paused, staring at you. Bizzaro Cole grinned, his shoulders relaxing, "You're right, I'm not Cole. I'm much better." with that, he picked you up with little effort and flung you over his shoulder. Bizzaro Cole walked out of the classroom with you rattling and banging against his back, though it had little effect.

"What is she doing here?" another version of Kai questioned, his voice dripped with anger. You could feel Bazzaro Cole shrug, "I wanted her. You found the other ninja yet?"

Just like clockwork, the actual ninja arrived through a hidden door, "Ah. Finally, a way out." Cole beamed. Kai looked towards the end of the corridor, seeing the Bizzaro ninja, "Guys, why are we staring at ourselves?"

Cole immediately saw you, hanging over his doppelganger's shoulders like a trophy, "(Y/N)?" he whispered out. Principle Nobel and the other teachers backed away, locking themselves back in the secret door, "Uh, this is kind of too weird for us. We're gonna stay in here."

"Ha, those who don't fight, teach." Jay joked, getting into a fighting stance like the others. Cole pointed an accusing finger at his evil self, "Drop the girl, uh, me!"

"I don't know, I quite like her. We had a good time, isn't that right, babe?" Cole nudged his shoulder jostling you in the process, you went to scream out but Bizzaro Jay had already covered your mouth with tape, bounding your hands together with some rope. The real Cole growled, pulling down his mask, how dare that guy touch you.

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The battle had been raging for a few minutes, Bizarro Cole had dumbed you to the side with a promise to return after beating the 'fake' ninja. You could see both Coles fighting each other, evenly balanced as all things should be. Though, compared to the others, their fight seemed personal.

"You're gonna regret messing with (Y/N), me!" the normal Cole shouted, throwing a punch and ultimately having it blocked. Bizzaro Cole laughed, leaning in closer when he kicked his leg out, "I don't think I will, besides, she seemed to like me more anyway."

"What're you saying?" Cole growled, using his anger in his punches. Bizzaro Cole swung his leg again, failing to land a hit, "I. Kissed. Her." he spoke with each swing. That's when Cole felt truly lit by rage, "YOU WHAT?" he bellowed out, going into a fury.

How dare this freak touch you, kiss you! That should be him, well, the good version of him, not the evil one; ugh, all this clone stuff was confusing.

"Ugh, we're so evenly balanced- oww -this fight could go on...forever." Jay sighed his movements much slower than before. Kai tumbled into a locker, blocking another punch, "We can't give up. Keep fighting!"

"NINJA, GO!" the battle cry of the ninja. The hallway was full of small ninjas, each coloured and dressed in fastly-made gis.

"Hey, it really is Ninja Day!" Cole mused, sliding away from his counterpart as the children dogpiled him. Kai watched with confusion until the lightbulb clicked, "Oh, I see what they're doing! They're trying to confuse them!"

"Yeah, but it's confusing me, too." Jay stumbled back, falling into the lockers. Zane pulled him up, helping to adjust Jay's mask, "Keep your focus." he then used spinjitzu to destroy his counterpart.

"It works just like Gene says. If you can land a punch, they'll be defeated!" Lloyd beamed, jumping in the air with a fist pump. Once Cole heard this, he wound up his fist and landed a harsh blow onto his counterpart. The children holding him down released him, and the Bizzaro version of Cole faded away.

"Aargh! Good riddance!" Cole dusted his hands, flicking his gaze to you, still bound and gagged by the lockers. He rushed over to you and, with delicate hands, pulled the tape away, wincing at the sound, "(Y/N)," he scanned over you.

"Cole, you saved me, again." you moaned towards the end, you didn't want to be known as the ninja's damsel in distress all the time. Cole helped untie you, pulling you up with a gentle hand, "Listen, I'm sorry about-"

"Don't." you cut him off, "It wasn't you, there's no need to apologise."

"But there is, I should've been there to help you. I knew you coming here was a bad idea." he frowned. You pulled him into a hug, "Don't say that, I mean, look at the students, they saved your butt back there."

"Hey, don't sound smug. I can always tie you back up again and leave you like that." you blushed at his comment, thinking back earlier to what the Bizzaro version of Cole had said. Cole seemed to pick up on this, tilting his head in confusion, "What? Was it something I said?"

"No," you laughed, shaking your head. You were still in Cole's arms, neither of you moving anytime soon. Cole lifted his arm to scratch the back of his neck before returning it around your waist, "So, listen (Y/N), about the whole kiss thing-"

"Kiss me," you once again interrupted. Cole blanked, now it was his turn to blush, "W-what?" he stuttered out. You stepped impossibly closer, if it were even possible, breath fanning over his face, "Kiss me, Brookstone."

"I-yes, mam." he hummed, leaning down and delicately slotting his lips against yours. You wasted no time in putting pressure into the kiss, feeling your palm raise to curl around his cheek while he smoothed his hands over your back.

This felt right, this felt like Cole, like your Cole.

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"Oh, man. It's so great we have the tank back." Jay beamed, amazed by all the gadgets and the sophistication of the interface. Meanwhile, you and Cole were riding the ultra-dragon. Your arms were wrapped around his waist while your head leaned against his shoulder, Cole like usual was shoving food into his mouth, "You said it, mmm." he hummed.

"Can't wait to hear what Sensei says when he hears about this." Kai joked, recalling the day's events. The small monitor in front of Kai flashed on, Lord Garmadon's image appearing on screen, "So, it is true. You have destroyed my evil ninja."

"Keep it coming, Garmadon. Your attempts to stop us are only making us stronger." Kai huffed, puffing out his chest though no one could actually see it. Garmadon sighed, "But tomorrow is a new day, ninja. Mark my words, I will find new ways to finish you, once and for al-" the screen began to fade on and off.

"What? I can't hear you." Kai teased, but Zane seemed more concerned, "Nya will be displeased, she just repaired it and it appears it already has to go back to the shop."

"Nah, it's not broken." Lloyd smiled, seconds later the screen came back on with one of Lloyd's favourite games. The ninja looked at Lloyd with shock, "You did that? But it didn't blow up." Jay said amazed. Lloyd grabbed a controller, kicking his feet back, "Hey, you go to school, and sometimes you might pick up a thing or two."

You all broke out in laughter, what a bizarre day.

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snackhobi · 4 years

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pairing: taehyung x reader / word count: 13.3k / genre: fluff, friends to lovers, smut (NSFW, 18+)

summary: you’re used to being in love with taehyung. you’ve had a lot of time to get good at it, after all—by this point you’re the world’s expert at keeping your less-than-platonic feelings hidden from him, what with the amount of practice you’ve had.

but then he signs up for a massage therapy course, because apparently you can never catch a break.

or: the one where taehyung gives you a full body massage and then some.

warnings: sexually explicit content, massage with a happy ending (literally 🤧), cursing, edible massage oil/lube, fingering (f), unprotected sex (be safe when you have sex please), multiple orgasms (f), oral sex (m), cum swallowing, pet names, body worship?, brief mention of shower sex

a/n: I swear this was meant to be pwp. this was literally meant to just be pwp with some massage shenanigans. and then I blinked and it had become a soft 13k fic which honestly… kicked my ass quite a bit. but I hope you enjoy it!! thank you as always to @hobi-gif for beta reading this and encouraging me and putting up with me changing this multiple times, what would I do without your support miss hope?

Taehyung goes through a lot of different phases.

He just finds so many things interesting. Photography, art, art history, music, fashion, thrift shopping; heck, there was even the time he got weirdly into making tea and became some sort of connoisseur, going through the whole rigmarole of buying the loose leaves and weighing them out, checking the temperature of the water, brewing for a precisely measured amount of time.

You still remember the look on his face when you said it all tasted like hot leaf water to you.

Because, of course, as one of Taehyung’s best friends and his roommate, you’re inevitably swept up in everything he does. You’re used to the weirdly acrid smell of photo development fluid and how cold dark rooms can get. You use phrases like chiaroscuro and sfumato to describe the simplest things after listening to Taehyung do the same for so long. You’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve tripped over his saxophone case when he leaves it lying around the apartment. You regularly wear the baggy t-shirt with the face that Taehyung had painted on it—even if you still refer to it as the Squidward-House-Shirt despite the fact you know he was inspired by Basquiet and Schiele and not the Easter Island themed stone head that Squidward lives in.

You don’t mind getting dragged along with whatever he does, honestly; you don’t have time to attend every class, but go with him when you can. It’s always good to expand your horizons. You also love watching Tae’s face whenever he learns something new, the various expressions that flit across his features—from wide eyed excitement and eyebrow raising astonishment to the more solemn side that appears whenever he’s taking something in and thinking deeply about it, turning it over in his mind, mulling on it.

(You love watching Tae’s face all the time, actually, but that’s a whole other can of worms you’d rather keep shut.)

However, the latest course he’s signed up for is not one you’d been expecting.

“Massage therapy?” Your face twists in equal parts confusion and surprise.

Taehyung’s dropped this latest nugget of information while you’re cooking, trying to fry some rice while also peering at the phone screen that’s been thrust into your face. You’re not bad at multitasking, per se, but Taehyung’s iPhone is drifting so close that you’re almost cross-eyed and it’s blocking you from seeing what’s going on in the pan.

“I had a coupon,” he says, as if that explains everything. (It doesn’t.)

“Scooch,” you say, and he immediately moves so you can turn the gas off.

“Jiminie and Jungkookie say that my massages help with dance, and that's just from Youtube tutorials.” Taehyung continues to talk as you bustle around the tiny kitchen. He’s already set the table so now he’s free to watch you finish doing the rest of the work. “And Joon-hyung says I have the perfect hands for it.”

You fumble with the pan as you’re scooping the steaming rice into a large bowl, only just managing to save food from scattering everywhere. You’ve thought about Taehyung’s hands a lot, about how large and long fingered and beautiful they are, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Really? Huh. That’s nice.” You stare at the pan, fixated on getting every grain of rice so you can avoid looking at Taehyung’s face. And hands. Which are still cupped around his phone. Which looks so small in his big, pretty grip.

Jesus Christ.

“It means I can give you massages if you ever start to get tense.” Taehyung sounds pleased, lovely grin on his face at the prospect of being able to rub his hands over you. As if that isn’t going to make every single one of your muscles lock up and turn you into some sort of coiled rope of a human being, which is the complete opposite of what a massage is supposed to achieve.

“Great.” Despite your inner turmoil, your voice is level and steady as you meticulously scrape the last grain of rice into the bowl, chasing the tiny fleck of white around the huge pan. Scrape, scrape, scrape. “Sounds fabulous. Can’t wait.”

Of course Taehyung would sign up to learn something that he could use to help his friends. He’s so big-hearted and loving. Big-hearted and loving and kind and funny and affectionate and beautiful and deep-voiced and so entirely overwhelming in every single way imaginable.

You do what you always do when confronted yet again with your all-consuming crush—you bottle that shit the fuck up until he’s not in the room.

And then you have a miniature breakdown at Pickles.

“I am going to die,” you whisper-scream. “He’s going to offer to massage me and he’s going to get a bottle of massage oil out and he’s going drizzle it onto his massive hands and I am going to fucking die.”

The bearded dragon cocks his head as he stares at you. Taehyung had come home with the reptile one day, tank and all, saying that someone on Facebook had been giving him away because they were moving house and could they just look after him for a little while, please, pretty please? Until they found a good home for him? Please?

That was over a year ago. (You’ve always been bad at saying no to Taehyung.)

“I hate my life,” you lament to the lizard, but then you hear the noisy flush of the toilet and know that Taehyung is going to emerge from the bathroom soon, so you have to wrap this miniature meltdown up pronto. “I wish I was a bearded dragon too, you know. All you do is get fed and sit under the heat bulb. Your life is so easy. You don’t even know what capitalism is.”

The silence you get from Pickles is far more support than you get from your human friends once you tell them. Yoongi just raises his eyebrows while Seokjin and Hoseok laugh outright in your face, just like they always do when you cry to them about Taehyung.

You need new friends. These ones are defective. (If only you’d kept the receipt so you could return them.)

“We learned how to do neck and shoulder massages today!” Taehyung says brightly after the first session.

You hum in response. You’re rewatching Pacific Rim together, cuddled up against Taehyung’s side, and you don’t have to turn your head to know what expression is on his face. There’ll be that little upturn to his lips, happiness at learning something new. That warmth in his eyes at being able to share it with you, even if you couldn't be there with him. Those little freckles on his face, under his eye, his nose, his lip; the one you’ve imagined kissing more times than you can count.

“My teacher says I have a natural talent with my hands,” he adds, and you’re so grateful that you can blame your sudden intake of breath on the scene that’s playing on the screen, as high stakes as it is.

“That’s nice,” you say, and mentally pat yourself on the back at keeping the strain out of your voice. You've had a lot of practice at this. “I’m not surprised, though. You’ve always been good at doing things with them.”

That’s not a euphemism. Taehyung’s always so careful when he makes things; you’d learned how to fold different origami patterns together, matching crane for crane, lotus for lotus, and he’d always been so delicate with his fingers. He’s always so careful and considerate with you, too, fingers splayed wide across your shoulder as he squeezes you closer to his side, leaving you breathless.

“I wish you could come too.” Taehyung sounds disappointed. “We always have so much fun together.”

For the first time in your life you’re grateful that your manager at Olive Chicken is such a hardass and won’t let you swap shifts, so you’d had to miss signing up for the massage course with Taehyung—because you know there’s no way you’d be able to keep it together if there was some sort of tandem practice in class or whatever. Your crush on him is filled with equal parts of tenderness and lust and you’re well aware of that. You’d rest your hands on the soft skin of Taehyung’s shoulders and back, the lust would overwhelm you, and you’d immediately burst into flames like some sort of demon stepping over the threshold of a church.

Why oh why did God have to make Kim Taehyung so hot?

Why oh why did God have to make you so… not?

You know Taehyung doesn’t see you in a romantic light at all. You’re grateful for this deep, platonic relationship you have, and you love him to pieces, but holy hell is it hard to walk around with Kim Taehyung looking the way he does and wanting to jump his bones while simultaneously being aware that it’s never going to happen. Whenever he smiles at you, or touches you, or holds you, it’s in exactly the same way as he treats any of his friends—and as happy as you are to be one of those friends, it also kind of kills you inside.

(Because you know you don’t have a chance, have never had a chance, and will never have a chance.)

The idea of offering to massage Taehyung is one that makes you want to melt into a puddle of horny goo. But when he offers to massage you, it’s because you’re a convenient practice partner who he’s comfortable with. It’s no big deal. You could strip naked and slather yourself up in oil and stand in front of him with your bosoms heaving and say ‘Have at me, big boy’ and Taehyung would say: ‘Sweet! A chance to practice deep tissue massage! Gee, thanks for being such a great pal!’

The kind of deep tissue you want Taehyung to massage is very different to whatever he’s talking about.

… Anyway.

You manage to avoid Taehyung using his apparently magic fingers on you for a surprising amount of time, though you’re kept up to date with his progress, because he shares everything with you and tells you about everything and you always, always listen. Because, more than being your crush, he’s one of your best friends and you love him.

Which is why you try your best to be gentle, graciously refusing his offer of a shoulder massage after he sees you wincing, even if with anyone else you’d just tell them to back off with zero hesitation.

“It’s fine,” you say, flapping a hand at him. “I just slept on it funny.”

“A massage would help! It won’t take long, I promise. Five minutes? Please?”

Taehyung’s looking at you with those big puppy eyes of his, pleading. You waver. You’re torn between being steadfast and avoiding a situation you’ve literally had nightmares about (Taehyung had offered to massage you, and you’d said yes, but then you’d fallen over as you were walking to him and suddenly a lasagne had appeared in your hands and you’d spilled it all down your shirt and he’d pointed and laughed and laughed and you’d felt so embarrassed that you’d woken up, cheeks burning), but then he pouts and you give in like the spineless and lovesick fool that you are.

“Five minutes,” you say, and Taehyung nods emphatically, looking pleased.

(You have the backbone of a chocolate éclair.)

You send quiet thanks to whatever God is listening when he doesn’t ask you to take your top off and doesn’t break out a bottle of scented oil. Instead he just asks for you to straddle a chair, clutching a plushie against your chest to cushion where it leans against the backrest, and tells you to get comfy.

“Just relax,” he says, as you desperately try to remember how your body works and coax it to relax like Taehyung wants you to. You fail miserably. You feel like a ball of rubber bands, each muscle a layer of tighter and tighter elastic that’s circled around you. “Lean forwards a little?”

At least Taehyung can’t see your face from this angle. You have no idea what sort of expression is twisting your features; consternation and horrified anticipation, probably. You're basically throttling your plushie, taking out your tension and frustration on the poor thing, Rilakkuma's placid face morphing into a twisted expression of sympathy under your grasping fingers.

“Perfect,” Taehyung says. The sound of praise in his deep voice has your insides turning into overheated syrup, hot and thick, dripping down and pooling between your legs. You hate yourself. Getting turned on by the most innocuous words from your best friend, really? Get it together.

The second you feel Taehyung's warm hands touch the back of your neck, your shoulders hunch up faster than a whiplash, a turtle sucking its head into its shell. Your friend laughs.

“This is the opposite of relaxing,” he says, voice warm with amusement.

“You surprised me.” You dig your nails into Rilakkuma's soft brown fur. Taehyung just thinks you're not used to being massaged, not that you're being weird because it's him that's touching you. Because he touches you a lot. He’s just never done it like this. “Sorry.”

“It's fine,” he replies, unruffled and oblivious. “Let me try again?”

You bite your lip, desperately trying to quell the mix of arousal and tension that’s churning in your stomach, begging your muscles to unwind. You’ve kept your crush a secret from him for this long, you can keep that energy up. (You have to keep that energy up.) “Um. Okay.”

You’re still tense when Taehyung puts his hands on you again. The touch is warm through your clothes, firm but careful, digging into the sharp line of tension laid across your shoulders; despite the way your heart is threatening to launch itself out of your chest, you start to loosen up, because holy shit that feels nice, actually.

You melt against Rilakkuma and smother the bear's face in your chest. “Your teacher wasn’t kidding when they said that you’re good with your hands,” you mumble.

You’ve never gotten a proper massage before but it feels so damn good that you can’t help but unwind, turning to jelly at the confident presses of Taehyung’s fingers and palms into the soft skin between your neck and shoulder. A little sigh spills past your lips when Taehyung starts to work at the part that’s been twinging after you lay crookedly on it, limbs akimbo in your sleep after a long night at work. “Oh, right there, Tae.”

Taehyung goes still for just a second before continuing, trailing his fingers over your shirt. “Here?”

Your eyes have drifted shut so you can focus on the sensation of that tension being pulled out of your body. “Yeah, right there,” you repeat, massaged into a state of lazy euphoria. The breath you let out is long and deep, catching in the back of your throat at a particularly firm rub of Taehyung’s hands; if you weren’t so blissed out you might be embarrassed at how much the noise you make is like a moan, but as it is, you don’t even notice. You just let out a little sound of discontent when Taehyung’s fingers stutter in their motions, displeased that he’s stopped even for a second.

By the time the massage is over, you’re so relaxed that you feel like you could melt into the floor, a wobbly puddle of unwound muscles and loose limbs. It’s official. You’re a massage convert.

“Holy shit.” Your eyes flutter open as you lean away from Rilakkuma so you can turn around. They’re the first coherent words you’ve spoken for a while; small sighs and sounds have been dripping from your lips and it’s only now that you’re able to regain your breath. “Tae, that was amazin—”

You’re met with the sight of Taehyung’s back as he power walks away, steps rapid, a little shaky, awkward. Before you can ask what’s wrong, he’s stepping into the bathroom.

“I need to wash my hands,” he says without looking at you, before the door slams shut.

You don’t remember Tae telling you about how quickly you have to wash your hands after finishing a massage. But, thinking about it, you suppose it makes sense—you know, with massaging multiple clients or whatever—even if it’s surprising exactly how fast he’d hoofed it away from you. It sounds like he’s switched both taps on full blast as well, noisy even through the wooden door, and judging from how long he’s in there, he’s being very thorough. Hand washing must be a lot more important than you’d realised.

Once Taehyung emerges, his face is a little flushed, cheeks a soft red. You wonder if the hot water tap is playing up again and filling your dinky bathroom with hot steam, and make a mental note to look into it. You smile at Taehyung from your perch on the sofa, Rilakkuma plopped on your lap, smile spread across your features; one that Taehyung returns, as pink-faced as he is.

“How’s your shoulder feeling?”

“So much better, honestly,” you admit. It’s incredible. He hasn’t even finished the course yet and he's already this good. He really does have magic hands.

“I’ll have to give you massages more often,” Taehyung says, though the end of the sentence trembles a little. He must be light-headed after all the steam in the bathroom.

The thought of more massages doesn’t fill you with as much mind-numbing trepidation as it might have earlier, utterly languid as you flop across the sofa, muscles uncoiled after the lovely touch of Taehyung’s even lovelier hands. No wonder people rave about spa days if they leave you feeling like this. Maybe if you’d been staring at Taehyung in the eye when he’d been touching you, then you’d feel a lot more awkward—as it is, it’s no worse than usual. Your crush is still all-encompassing but you also got a massage out of it, so.

“Sounds great.” This time you don’t even have to fake your excitement. “Now come sit your butt down so we can order some takeout and decide what to watch.”

When you bend down to speak to Pickles later, the bearded dragon is lolling on his favourite branch. “There’s still a high chance that I’m going to die,” you say in a low voice, before you flick the lights off so the lizard can sleep. “But he hasn’t broken out the oils yet, so I think I’ll be okay for now.”

Your luck doesn’t last.

“Strawberry and champagne, lychee martini, mint mojito, white chocolate, or tropical coconut?”

You look up from where you’re painting your toenails. “Huh?”

Taehyung bundles into the room and throws himself onto your bed, flopping on his belly and ignoring the way the mattress is jostled. You, of course, are used to his antics, which is why you’d swept your open bottle of nail polish up before he could spill it everywhere.

“What do you think sounds best?”

“Well, that depends,” you say, squinting at your toes and carefully sweeping the polish over the freshly buffed nails. “For candles, I think they sound pretty nice. For sauces to pour over a steak, I’d say I’d give them all a hard pass. What’s it for?”

“Massage oils,” Taehyung says blithely, too busy staring at his phone to see you muffle a curse when your hand slips and you paint your entire little toe blue. “I was wondering which you think sounds best.”

“Oh. Uh.” You fumble to clean your toe and salvage the now-terrible pedicure you’re trying to give yourself. It was only a matter of time before massage oils were going to become part of your life. Taehyung never goes into things half-hearted, so of course he’s going to invest in oils, too. God’s sake. You can never catch a break, can you? “Why these ones in particular?”

Taehyung pauses for a suspiciously long time, but it gives you the chance to furiously rub at your toe while he’s distracted. “We get a free bottle from the course,” he says eventually.

Huh. Okay. “That’s pretty neat. What was the last one? Coconut? Stick with the basics, can’t go wrong with that, right?”

“Coconut is always tasty,” Taehyung comments absently, and you glance up from your Smurf toe.

“Agreed, but it’s not like you’re about to eat massage oil, are you?”

Taehyung pauses, and then buries his face into his phone screen—suddenly very intent on rereading the list of ingredients in each bottle, it seems. “No, of course not, you’re right,” he mumbles.

He’s almost finished the course. He’s not going to be an accredited masseuse or anything, but you definitely think he could be, if he wanted to—you’ve never had less tension in your shoulders and neck in your life. Taehyung always eases his way into your personal space anyway, casual and effortless after years of friendship, but now you’re used to his fingers sliding over the back of your neck, a gliding touch, sending tense little goosebumps over your skin while simultaneously making you melt.

“It’s pretty cool that you get free stuff, though.” Your toe is clean, thankfully, no longer blue. “And not just, like, a generic bottle of oil or something. They all sound really fancy. I didn’t realise that you could get massage oils that were scented like that?”

Taehyung makes a non-committal noise, which is uncharacteristic of him, but you’re too focused on repainting your final nail to pay it too much mind, letting out a loud huff of triumph when you’re done.

“Get me a bag of shrimp crackers, please?” You have a sudden craving but you don’t want to penguin waddle to the kitchen and risk getting anything on your wet nails. “Ya girl is hungry.”

“Got it.” Taehyung rolls off the bed without protest. You’re used to his antics, and he’s used to yours, indulging you whenever you feel lazy or want him to do something for you. “You need me to feed you?”

“I wasn’t going to use my toes to feed myself,” you laugh, but Taehyung ends up feeding them to you anyway.

When you recount the list to Seokjin later, his face crumples in a way that’s equal parts offended and disgusted. “They all sound terrible,” he says. “White chocolate should stay in chocolate form and not be turned into an oil. Why does massage oil even have to smell like anything?”

You’re both holed up in the tiny smoking nook behind Olive Chicken; neither of you smoke, but it’s a good excuse to go outside and get fresh air during longer shifts.

“Hey, don’t ask me, I’m not the one who’s taking the course. I think lychee martini sounds interesting, though.”

“Agree to disagree.” Seokjin unwraps one of the complimentary chocolates the restaurant gives to diners with their bill, swallowing it whole. “Besides, we all know Taehyung could approach you with dirty, used fryer oil and you’d let him dip you in it.”

You slap the next chocolate out of his hand before it reaches his mouth. He’s unmoved and simply plucks another from his pocket, which is apparently bulging with them.

“Yoongichi,” Jin says, calling to the delivery boy, who’s just appeared from the dark like some tired-eyed spectre of fried chicken. “Tell me this. If I were to ask you what smell of massage oil you’d prefer, what—”

“I would say that I really could not care less.” Yoongi flops down on one of the rickety fold-out chairs before silently accepting a chocolate from Seokjin’s stash. “And then I’d ask why you’re asking me in the first place, seeing as you’re the one using it, not me. If Taehyung’s asking what massage oil you’d prefer, Y/n, it’s because he wants to rub it all over you specifically.” Yoongi munches on the chocolate, already filling in the blanks without needing to be told the context. You really are that transparent, huh. “Please, we’ve been over this.”

Jin pouts. “You ruined my set up. I had a whole speech prepared.”

“Oh no.” Yoongi remains blank-faced. “How terrible.”

“I hate both of you,” you say. “I’m going to tell Pickles how mean you are.”

“I bet if that lizard could talk, he’d tell you how tired he was of you two dancing around each other, just like the rest of us,” Yoongi says.

There’s no dancing around, though, no matter what your friends say. Well. Not on Taehyung’s end anyway. You’re out here doing the fandango, castanets and all, while Taehyung just stands stock still, oblivious.

You let out an incredibly long sigh. Seokjin hands you a sympathetic chocolate.

The massage oil doesn’t make an appearance in your life for a little while, though. The end of the course comes and goes, Taehyung proudly flapping the laminated certificate at you, wobble-wobble-wobble, filling the apartment with the sound of rippling plastic. But no coconut oil.

The scent of ‘tropical coconut’ has started to haunt your dreams, in a way that’s both good and bad; when you wake up in a sweat, heart pounding, it’s not because you’re having nightmares, let’s just put it like that. It’s like there’s an invisible countdown that you can’t trace and it’s only a matter of time before it ticks over and the shoulder massages (that you’ve gotten very comfortable with) edge into something different. Taehyung’s going to innocently offer to give you a backrub and uncap that bottle of scented oil and you’re going to explode into a mess of putty under his hands.

Well… then again… you had been worried about that with all the shoulder rubs. Now look at you. You weather those like a champ. Sure, your skin tingles and you run hot and you think about the sensation of Taehyung’s hands gliding over you whenever you’re alone, but you’re basically fine. Your friend who just so happens to also be the great love of your life remains none the wiser.

You bet a full back rub would feel great after a long week.

Which is why when Taehyung steps into the apartment with a look on his face that you immediately recognise as tiredness, you sort of wish you knew how to massage people, too.

He falls into your arms with little fanfare. It’s been one of those days, one of those ones that everyone gets, even Taehyung—he’s usually so Switched On and Exuberant and Alive, and people don’t seem to realise that even he feels exhausted, sometimes.

“You alright, bubs?” You can’t massage him but you can rub his back soothingly, let him snuffle against your neck. Sometimes you think about that little space between your chin and collarbones as Taehyung’s, a hollow that’s perfect for him to press his face into, hair tickling your chin as he curls up into you. His and his alone. “Did something happen?”

He just shakes his head.

“Okay,” you say.

(Close proximity and skin on skin with Taehyung doesn’t always have your pulse rising and your heart racing. Sometimes it’s just this: quiet and soft, your heart bright with fierce affection for this boy, the only thought in your mind that you want him to be happy, forever.)

The long silence is broken by the sound of Taehyung heaving in a breath before letting out a long, exhausted sigh.

“Thank you.” His voice is quiet and low, far less energetic than his usual self.

“Nothing to thank me for, Tae,” you reply. “Always here for you. You know that, right?”

He doesn’t respond straight away. He just burrows closer, draped over you, until he murmurs, barely audible. “Why?”

Your face twists. “Why, what? Why am I always here for you?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung squeezes himself impossibly closer, skin warm against yours, forehead pressed to the skin of your neck. You can’t see his expression from this angle.

“Because you’re one of my best friends and I love you,” you answer, immediately. You don’t even have to think about it. “Because you’re important to me and if there’s anything I can do for you, I will. I’ll celebrate the good things in your life with you, and I’ll be at your side during the bad times, just like you are with me. Please don’t ever forget how much I love you, okay?”

There’s a pause, and then it feels like all the tension leaves Taehyung’s body, slumping his whole body weight against you. “Okay,” he murmurs. “I love you too. Thank you,” he says again. You just reply by squeezing his shoulders.

He’s a little quieter for a few days after that. You’re not sure why, because he’d perked up after a lazy evening of lying around and eating too many snacks, flopped against you like an oversized, clinging starfish—but you’re gentle with him nonetheless.

(Well. You’re always gentle with him. It just takes you half a second to fold in the face of his whims, rather than a whole, full second.)

So when the dreaded bottle of oil finally appears, you’re far less ready to fight off Taehyung’s insistence on a full body massage, caught off guard after days of indulging him. Fuck.

“You’ve had a long week!” Taehyung insists as you scrabble your way over the sofa’s backrest so you can hide behind it, clutching a cushion to your chest. “You need to relax!”

Without looking you fling the cushion over the sofa. Judging from the fact that Taehyung doesn’t make a sound, you’ve missed. “I was feeling perfectly relaxed until you started yelling at me about it! Why are you so obsessed with the idea of me being relaxed?”

Taehyung doesn’t respond. Oh, crap. Maybe you did hit him with the cushion?

You pop up from behind the sofa. Nope. It's an embarrassing distance away from Taehyung, who’s got that surprisingly large bottle of oil held loosely in his hands. There’s an expression on his face that you can’t decipher; a little crestfallen, a little unsure, but there’s something else there, too, something you can’t put a name to.

“Taehyung?”

“I just… wanted to help,” he says. “You’re always there for me when I’m not feeling great, and you calm me down, and I wanted to do the same for you.”

You immediately feel like the worst human being alive. Take the feeling you get whenever you accidentally step on an animal’s tail, multiply it by infinity, and that’s only just a drop in the ocean of awful, awful guilt that you’re drowning in.

“Oh, Tae,” you say. Your voice comes out so much softer and sweeter than you mean it to, but you can't help it. “I’m sorry. I was just joking. It’s really nice of you to be so concerned. You just surprised me. You do help me relax and your massages are great.” (You tell him that often enough that he should know it, but it never hurts to repeat a compliment.)

His face lifts. It’s like the sun bursting forth from the clouds after heavy rain, and you have to resist the urge to shield your eyes, blinded by the brightness and beauty. Kim Taehyung is so unfairly gorgeous (but what else is new?). “So I can give you a massage?”

Despite the fact the prospect makes you want to fling yourself into space, when you’re faced with Taehyung’s dark eyes and wide smile and large, warm hands, you cave, because of course you do. If, way back when you’d first been frying up that kimchi rice and letting Taehyung thrust his phone into your face, you’d been told you’d end up in this position, you would have laughed outright. Haha, yeah, sure, like you’d be stupid enough to let yourself be wrangled into such a vulnerable state in front of Taehyung, nowhere to run, helpless under his fingers. Not.

But here you are. Whipped for Kim Taehyung, forever and always.

The pastel blue towels under your stomach and chest are soft as they shield you from the cold, hard floor. You’re incredibly aware of how chilly the apartment feels, air prickling against your bare skin; you shift to try and get comfortable, glancing over your shoulder to fiddle with the towel that’s draped over your hips and ass, making sure it’s covering everything. Taehyung insists on authenticity (as if you’re not lying on the floor of your apartment rather than on a massage table) and he says that it’s normal to be completely naked for a full-body massage, even underneath any towels that are covering you up.

Authenticity is also why he’s in the other room, warming up the massage oil, because that’s apparently a thing?

(You’re going to die.)

It doesn’t matter that Taehyung will only be able to see the back of your head, your shoulder blades, the small of your back, a slip of your thighs, your calves. None of these things are especially scandalous; all the parts of your body that someone might find more interesting are out of sight, pressed against the floor or hidden under a layer of Egyptian cotton microfibres.

And yet you can’t help but be hyperaware of how you’re entirely unclothed. Even if it doesn’t bother Taehyung—what with, you know, the fact he’s not interested in you like that and doesn’t find you attractive at all (sigh)—embarrassment creeps hot and uncomfortable under your skin.

It just feels so crazy intimate to be laid out like this, even if people do this all the time, happily strip down to let professionals rub the tension out of their body.

(Then again, most people aren’t best friends with their masseuses and haven’t harboured long, one-sided crushes on them, either.)

Just breathe. You can do this. You love the shoulder massages that Taehyung’s been giving you; just think of this as a shoulder massage.

… A shoulder massage that involves warm oil, near-nakedness, and Taehyung’s hands sliding all over you.

… You are going to have a very long venting session with Pickles after all this.

You’re so distracted by your own self pity and distress that you don’t register the sound of Taehyung entering the room; the little pause when he steps over the threshold, feet stuttering, just for a moment. It’s only when he’s kneeling down that you notice his presence, body jolting from surprise before you let out a slip of high laughter.

“Jesus, Tae,” you say. In any other circumstance, you’d be clutching your chest. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He sounds genuinely apologetic.

Your cheek is pillowed on your arms. When you turn to look at your best friend you immediately regret it; he’s settled back on his ankles, knees spread wide, and you come eye-to-eye with his crotch.

In an effort to look away from his clothed dick, your gaze flies up to his face, which might be even worse. He has this intense look in his eyes, and wow, alright, you’ve never been able to see Taehyung’s face as he’s been massaging you, but you never realised exactly how seriously he seems to take it, judging from his expression.

(Do all massage therapists look like that when they work?)

“That’s alright.” You’re a little breathless, but you’re going to blame that on how your boobs are smooshed into the floor, and not on anything else, nuh uh. Shoulder massage. It’s a shoulder massage. It’s just like a full bodied shoulder massage. (Maybe if you repeat it to yourself often enough then you’ll actually start to believe it.) “Uh. Do you need me to… do anything? Or do I just lie here?”

Taehyung’s expression lightens a little at the uncertainty in your tone, smile curling up the corners of his mouth. “You’re perfect right where you are,” he says, and then he reaches for the bottle of oil.

You turn your head away again, cheeks burning. There’s no way you’ll be able to handle the visual of him slicking his fingers and palms up. “Cool,” you say, voice only a little strained. “Coolcoolcoolcool.”

(It’s not cool.)

You don’t have a visual, but you do get the auditory experience thanks to the relative silence in the apartment. Goosebumps ripple down the back of your neck and trail down your spine at the sound of Tae’s hands sliding against each other, thoroughly coated in the warmed oil, and you’re so glad that you can blame it on the chill in the air.

At first, it’s okay. Taehyung starts at the parts of your body that are used to receiving his attention, though it’s different without the barrier of clothing in the way, not to mention how easily his palms glide over you, the air full of the light scent of coconut. It’s different, but manageable, and you think you just might be okay; as always, his touches are firm but careful, and your body is used to this by now, relaxing.

But. The second you feel Taehyung’s touch between your shoulder blades, you stiffen with a shiver. The oil is the perfect temperature against your skin, but you’ve always had a sensitive back; you can’t help but clench your fists, digging your fingers into your palms. Relax. Just breathe.

“You’ve got a lot of tension here.” Taehyung’s voice is low as he digs the heel of his palm into the dip of your spine.

It’s because you’re touching me there, you think to yourself, but just let out a non-committal hum of agreement instead.

You feel Taehyung's hands, a repeated sliding motion between your shoulder blades; the tension starts to leak out of you again, but your breath hitches in your throat at how you're pressed downwards and into the cotton towels beneath you, nipples hardening against them.

Thank God you're on your front so Tae can't see what effect he's having on you.

“Better?”

Taehyung's voice is always deep, but you'd swear it was even deeper in this moment, pitched low. Maybe that’s because the sound of blood pumping is filling your ears so it’s hard to discern. At this point, who even knows? Not you, that’s for sure.

“Yep.” Why are you so breathless? You haven’t moved at all, but you sound like you’ve just run the 100m sprint, winded and weak. “So much better.”

You regret agreeing to this. You are so out of your depth and there’s no way you’re going to be able to hide exactly how much this is affecting you and you want to collapse in on yourself and shrivel up like a sundried tomato, tiny and wrinkly and underwhelming.

Taehyung shifts to reach more of you and you squeeze your eyes shut so you don’t come face first with his crotch again, shielding yourself from the view of his loose linen trousers stretched almost taut with how wide his knees are. It’s both a blessing and a curse—a blessing because you’re saved from aforementioned view, but a curse because your sensation of touch is heightened, and all you’re aware of is his hands sliding down your sides. You’d swear those fingers were so long he could circle your waist with ease.

(Massages are meant to relax you and yet you’ve never felt so tense in your life.)

Taehyung clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth. “I can’t get a good angle like this,” he mutters.

Before you can think anything or say anything, you become aware of the sound of moving and shifting and—

Your eyes fly open. Taehyung’s straddling your thighs, heavy and warm, and you suck in a breath so sharp and fast you can feel your chest expand, brain full of the screaming clang of warning bells. There’s no way this is a normal masseuse thing. There’s no way. It’s intimate and entirely too physical and there’s absolutely no way that this is something Taehyung learned in class.

(What is he doing?)

But then any coherent thought in your brain slips when his hands settle on you again.

They so, so lightly brush the hem of the towel that preserves your modesty, and you can’t help the full-body shiver that wracks through you. You suck your lips into your mouth, swallowing down the noise that threatens to bubble up in your throat. There’s the sensation of fingers trailing up the line of your spine, feather light, smoothed by the slide of oil, and you feel like molten lava, burning hot and bright.

“Taehyung.” Your voice is high and faint.

His fingers splay down your ribcage and run down your sides, confident and smooth, warm with that coconut-scented oil, and you’re dying, you’re living; you want to disappear, you never want this to end.

“Taehyung,” you repeat. Your voice shakes.

He hums, low and indulgent. “Yes?”

“M-my thighs,” you stammer, unable to articulate yourself. Why are you on my thighs, oh God, you’re so warm and heavy on top of me, oh God oh God oh God.

Taehyung completely misunderstands you. “Oh? Of course.” He sounds nonchalant. “I’ll massage those next.”

You can feel the drag of his linen trousers against your skin as he moves down to rest on your calves, and hear the bottle open as Taehyung drizzles more oil over his hands, far more than he could possibly need. His palms feel so broad and warm against the smoothness of your thighs, touches firm and confident as he digs his fingers into the muscle, and, oh, fuck, this is, this is too much—

Your legs jump when Taehyung hitches the towel up, just a little, baring more of your body.

“Fuck.” You can't keep quiet any longer. “Tae, I’m fine, I’m feeling way less tense now.”

He’s still, for a moment, before his hands slide up the back of your thighs. “Are you sure? You want me to stop?”

It’s only then that you realise how deeply Taehyung is breathing, fast and low, voice rough and gravelled. His fingers rest in wait, warm and slick with oil; you’re so close to losing any modicum of modesty, only one motion away from that towel being rucked high enough that there’s nothing protecting you from Taehyung’s touch and eyes.

“I haven’t finished yet, though,” he continues, digging his thumbs into your skin as he pulls his hands down your thighs, mindlessly following the motions he’s been taught. “There’s still more to go.”

You could twist around to look at him but you’re almost afraid to look at his face, afraid of what you’d find there. He sounds as affected as you are, but there’s absolutely no way. There’s no way.

“You don’t need to do the whole massage if I’m feeling relaxed, right?”

(Because you’re feeling so relaxed right now, of course, and not like you’re about to go supernova and burst into heat and light. Absolutely.)

(But.)

(But. Taehyung’s hands settle at the back of your knees, swiping the sensitive skin with his thumbs. You can’t see his face, but you can feel something in that touch, something more than skin deep, like it’s sinking into you, through skin and muscle and bone, in in in, settling inside you, a flicker of—of—)

“Want to do this perfectly for you,” he murmurs. You clench your hands at the husky note in his voice, nails digging so hard into your palms it hurts. “You deserve the best. I want you to feel good.”

He must be able to see your back rise and fall as you breathe in sharply.

“Taehyung.” Almost pleading.

“Yes, love?”

You suck in another sharp breath. The pet name sounds so soft and sweet in his mouth, somehow, even with the heated edge to his voice. One that’s definitely there. You’re not imagining it.

(You’re not.)

“Do you want me to make you feel good?” he continues.

Before you can think, you nod.

“Yes,” you whisper. “Please.”

You’re trembling. Taehyung’s still heavy and warm across the back of your calves, sliding one hand to the inside of a knee and up the soft skin of your inner thighs. You instinctively shift them apart, as far as you can with Taehyung trapping your legs, and, oh, his hand is going higher, oh—

His hand is so big, cupping your overheated sex. It’s hard to tell where the oil ends and your own arousal begins, flushed wet and hot; when he dips his middle finger between your lower lips, long and gentle and firm, you let out a noise you didn’t realise you were capable of. The angle is off, a little awkward, the motions of Taehyung’s fingers stifled by how you’re lying flush to the ground, but God, you’re so turned on it barely matters.

You’re hyperaware of everything. The soft touch of air on the cooling oil across your skin. The fall of the towel, bunched around your waist, slowly slipping to one side. Taehyung’s hand, his fingertips easing through the heat of you, sliding over your clit, over your entrance, slow and soft and amazing.

“Again,” you plead. “Again, Tae, please.”

“Feels good?” He asks, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you nod, cheek still pillowed against your arm.

“So good,” you say. “But I want more, please, Tae.”

“Anything you want,” he murmurs.

Taehyung’s hand shifts between your legs again, so hot, so big, so reverent. The slide is smooth as his fingers press into your folds, practically gliding. You twist beneath him, letting out a noise of displeasure when he draws his hand away, but then he lifts off your calves. You let him thrust your legs apart before he resettles between them.

Just as you’re distracted with the towel being tugged away from your hips, baring you entirely, Taehyung slides a finger into your weeping cunt.

You whine. It's so long. Now that your calves aren’t trapped, there’s nothing to stop you from rutting back against his fingers. He splays his other hand over the soft flesh of your ass, encouraging the rolling motion of your hips, and you’re gasping, wanton in your noises of desire and pleasure. One finger becomes two, and then three, Taehyung’s voice a low undercurrent to your stuttered moans as he presses them as deep as he can.

“Just like that, angel,” he breathes. “Want you to feel good, keep making those pretty noises, let me know how good it is—”

“Taehyung,” you whine, dragging the syllables of his name out when he curls his fingers inside you, so amazing, hitting you in all the right places.

“Baby.” He sounds wrecked, words sliding together, and you haven’t even touched him yet. “You’re so hot n’ wet, fuck. So perfect. Just like that, keep moving like that.”

You can hear the slick sounds of his thrusts into you. He’s already learned what you like, twisting his fingers in a way that leaves you breathless; they’re so fucking long, sliding into your greedy cunt with ease, reaching so much deeper than your own can. His pretty lovely hands are on you, inside you, and you’re heady at the thought.

“There, Tae, don’t stop, please, p-please.” The coil twists tighter in between your legs, a taut thread that’s ready to snap. He listens, repeating the motion that’s pulling you closer to the edge, eyes wide, staring at the way you’re writhing underneath him; the way the oil on your back and legs shimmers in the light, the evidence of his touch all over you, shining. “Tae, oh, God, right there, yes, yes, yes—”

Your entire body goes tense and then you’re cumming around Taehyung’s fingers, clenching your thighs together, trapping him inside as you buck your hips. You grind back against his hand, a loud moan falling from your lips, drowning out the noise of awe that Taehyung makes when he feels your walls pulsate around him. You're warm and tight and wet, arousal flooding thick against his skin, and he lets out a stuttered groan, fingers buried knuckle deep inside you, feeling every wave of pleasure that rocks through your core.

You’re panting by the time you settle back down and barely make a sound when Taehyung drags his fingers out of you. When he leans down the oil on your skin feels tacky against his clothes, material sticking to you, chest to back, hips to ass. You can feel the hot curve of him through his trousers, his cock heavy, getting harder—and it feels sososo good.

Taehyung’s face is so close, now, chin hooked over your shoulder. Even though you can feel the hardness of his cock pressed against you, the smile on his face is so gentle. Your heart thrums in your chest.

“So cute n' pretty,” he says, and presses his nose to the soft curve of your cheek. Rather than coconut, all you can smell is his shampoo, familiar and homely and heady. “All over. God, I can’t believe you’d let me touch you like this. I’m so lucky. Was that good, baby?”

“Yes,” you say, and then, because you’re still floating in a light haze of disbelief: “I’m the lucky one.”

Taehyung laughs, low and quiet. It’s a honeyed moment, dripping slow and sweet, even sweeter when he tilts his head forward. His lips are soft against your cheekbone, your jaw, and when you turn towards him, they’re even softer against your mouth. You can feel the shape of his smile, and it tastes so bright, small kisses that turn open mouthed, so perfect. Because you’re kissing Kim Taehyung, your Taehyung, something you’ve been dreaming about for so long, now—even if this entire situation is pretty unbelievable, honestly.

When you pull back, his eyes spark with unadulterated joy. He’s warm and heavy, pinning you down against the towels that are soft against your front; arching your spine, you lean back against the weight of Taehyung’s body, his cock fattening up through the layers of clothes that separate you. He lets out a breath of surprise before he grinds down, pressing that hard heat against you, and your cunt clenches.

“Can I finish the massage?” He asks, sounding almost eager, even with the rasp of lust in his voice. You can’t help but laugh, an affectionate giggle that has you knocking your foreheads together.

“Of course,” you say, and he catches your lips again, swallowing the last of your laughter, sweeping his tongue over your lips, inside your mouth, wet and hot and a little messy, but good.

“You need to be on your back,” Taehyung continues, slow after the kiss is broken, and, oh, okay, that has you shivering. “If you want to?”

Of course you want to.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Let me move.”

He shifts to give you room, but not before pressing a kiss to the back of your neck, the bump of the top of your spine, lips sliding against the oil that he’d rubbed there earlier, goosebumps erupting over your skin.

“So good to me,” he whispers. You don’t think he even means for you to hear it.

(It’s said without thought; not thoughtless, no, but a soft little thing that says so much. A thought that’s slipped across his mind and fallen from his lips, warm and tender. Like you’re always good to him, and he sees it, he knows it, he feels it, he thinks it, and he’s almost in disbelief about it, because you’re so good to him.)

You feel warm and languid after cumming, loose-limbed as you flop onto your back. There’s no going back now. There’s no going back from this moment, naked and vulnerable under Taehyung, nothing hidden away any more—the soft fall of your breasts, your stomach, the lines of your hips, your fingers tightening in the towels spread beneath you as Taehyung’s eyes drink you in, wide and overawed at the sight of your flushed cunt, ripe and slick and ready for him.

(There's no more hiding how much you want Taehyung to have you, body and heart alike.)

You can see the shape of your body silhouetted on his clothes, where the oil has seeped into the material from how close he’d been pressed against you. You can see just how affected he is, cock straining against the loose linen of his white trousers, and you bite your lip to try and stifle the sound you make.

“Look at you,” Taehyung breathes, kneeling between your legs. “You’re so perfect.”

Your cheeks burn. “Taehyung, please,” you say, embarrassed. You really aren’t, especially in comparison to model-gorgeous Kim Taehyung, eyes dark and full of heated lust, hair falling in his eyes, effortlessly beautiful, always.

“You are,” he insists. “You have no idea how perfect you are.”

Before he reaches for the massage oil, he sucks the taste of you off his fingers, sloppy and messy. Your pussy throbs at the sight. And—you were also right about the visual being too much to handle, breath catching in your throat as you watch it drip into his broad hands. His palms shine as he rubs them together, interlacing his fingers, so graceful in their motions. You’re so wet from your orgasm, only getting wetter as you stare back at Taehyung, whose gaze has been heavy on you the whole time.

He starts at your collarbones. It’s even slower than before, and you ease underneath him, revelling in the softness of his touch. He sweeps his hands over your shoulders, down your arms, circling his long fingers around your wrists before lifting one of your hands. Your eyelashes flutter as he presses a kiss to your palm, a motion so full of adoration and tenderness it steals your breath away, and you squirm, shy.

“Tae,” you whine. “You can’t just do that.”

Of course he doubles down, lifting your other hand and repeating the motion, letting his lips linger between your head line and your heart line. “I can,” he says, words warm in your cupped palm.

“I hope you didn’t do this in class.” Your voice is too weak for it to come out as the joke you mean it to be.

Taehyung just shakes his head, mouth brushing over the tips of your fingers. “Only for you,” he says. “Did the whole class for you. I wanted—wanted an excuse to touch you more,” he admits, and your heart feels like it’s going to launch itself out of your throat.

“Then touch me,” you say, trying to sound confident even if your cheeks burn.

And he does. He lets your hands drop, gliding his touch back up your arms, down your body, over your legs; he massages your thighs and calves, digs his thumbs into the arches of your feet, circling his fingers around your ankles, shackles you don’t want to escape from. You feel so relaxed and lax, somehow, even if every touch has you biting your lip, anticipation roiling in your stomach for what’s to come, Taehyung laying your legs down softly before he shifts back up, hands held out towards you—

—then he cups your breasts in his big, big hands and your back arches, fingers sliding over your nipples, glistening with coconut oil, circling them with the pads of his thumbs. You let out an embarrassing whine.

“Oh, Tae,” you beg. “More, please.”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

You smile at another soft, unexpected pet name, flustered, but then your eyes slide shut when Taehyung bends down to kiss your neck as he continues to run his hands over the swell of your breasts. He trails his lips over your oiled skin, shifts down, drawing a line from your neck to the valley of your chest, the hard line at the center of your ribcage.

“Tae,” you murmur, and then, feeling bold under the heat of Taehyung’s dark eyes— “Baby.”

He hums before laying another sloppy kiss against your sensitive skin. You can feel the curve of his smile in the kiss. “Yes, love?”

“Is it really okay for you to… you know… get that oil in your mouth? I don’t want you to get sick,” you say, concerned, even through the haze of your arousal. His lips shine with it, at how he’s been trailing his mouth over all the parts of your body that he’s touched.

There’s a short beat, and then Taehyung buries his head against your neck—in that little hollow that’s his, in a motion he’s done dozens of times. Except this time you’re naked and he still has fingers splayed across the soft skin of your chest, nipples dragging underneath his palms.

“You’re always so considerate.” His words are muffled against your skin. “It’s fine. It’s edible.”

“You got edible massage oil from your course?”

Taehyung hesitates. “No,” he admits. “I bought it. It’s edible and, uh. Safe for intimate use.”

You’re silent, just for a moment, and then you can’t help it. You start to laugh.

“Kim Taehyung,” you say, body shaking with amusement. “Did you buy edible massage oil that you can also use as lube?”

Taehyung pulls his face away from your neck and glances up. You’re giggling at him, and he feels so full of love and affection; he can’t help but join in, both laughing at him, loud and carefree.

“It’s why I asked which one you liked,” he confesses, once he can catch his breath.

“I can’t believe you lied to me,” you say, but you don’t mind, really, and he knows it. You lift a hand to push hair out of his face, running your fingers down his scalp. He leans into your touch with a smile, bright and lovely, before he abruptly shifts one of his hands down so he can lick a hot, wet stripe across the skin of your breast.

That stops your laughter pretty fast, surprised hiccup shifting into a broken moan when he engulfs your nipple in the heat of his mouth. “O-oh,” you gasp. “Oh, Taehyung—”

“Been thinking about this for so long.” Taehyung’s eyes are lidded and dark as he leans back, watching the way you react to his touch, arching up towards him. “Wanted to touch you like this so much.”

“Wanted it too,” you breathe. “Wanted—oh, God, Tae, fuck—”

It’s overwhelming. Not just the way Taehyung is flicking his tongue over each of your nipples, pressing his lips against your skin, no—but the idea that he’s been hoping for this, too. Each wet motion of his tongue over your pebbled skin drags pulls out of you; Taehyung’s cock twitches at a loud keen that’s drawn from your lips, a wet patch of precum seeping through his boxers and trousers, darkening the fabric, even though you haven’t touched him yet.

When you reach out to grasp him through his clothes, his hips jolt forward and he bites off a surprised gasp, cutting through the sound with his teeth. He feels long and heavy as you stroke him, thumbing over the wet patch at his tip, hot, even through all those layers between your skin and his.

“I want to feel you, Tae,” you say, staring at him. “Inside me. Please.”

His breath hitches when you tighten your fingers around his shaft and drag your hand upwards, slow and intent.

“The oil isn’t condom friendly,” he admits, abashed.

“Then you can cum in my mouth,” you reply. No hesitation.

Taehyung’s eyes are so wide, but then he smiles, eyes squeezing into crescents, mouth turning up into that lovely, broad grin of his. He looks so sweet and sincere, and you feel like you could explode, stuffed overfull with love for him.

“You really are perfect,” he says.

“Only for you,” you reply, your smile just as bright.

He lays one final kiss to your chest, above your beating heart, before he starts to strip. The oil has obviously soaked through his shirt and onto his skin because it sticks when he peels it off and carelessly throws it aside.

Just like his heart, Taehyung’s body is soft and lovely. You sit up so you can touch him properly, catching him off guard when you pull him in for a kiss—one he eagerly leans into, and without the shirt in the way you can feel the way your skin slides against his, softened with oil.

There really is no one as beautiful as Kim Taehyung. You drag your hands over him, so warm and wonderful under your palms; his chest, his cute tummy, his waist, his hips, the soft skin above his red, neglected cock. He’s radiant in his nakedness, every easing line of his body so perfect as he kneels in front of you, the flush of his skin, the heavy weight of his arousal, head shining with precum, so wet it’s practically dripping.

You lean in to kiss his neck and nip at his Adam's apple as his hands slide over your shoulder blades and down your back, the parts that make you shudder.

“Want you, Tae.” You whisper into his mouth, a soft secret that isn’t really a secret at all, not any more. “All of you.”

“Going to give you everything you want.” The words flow out of him with ease. “Everything you want.”

His chest and stomach shine with the massage oil that’s rubbed off from your own skin. You run your hands across him, and when you finally grasp his cock without the barrier of cloth in the way, he’s almost burning under your grasp, thick, his entire body shuddering when you pump his length. So sensitive to your touch.

“I’m goin’ to make you cum again,” he promises, and you love it, the way he talks when he’s losing himself. “Bet you’ll feel so good around my cock, so perfect.”

A shiver skates through your body. Taehyung’s fingers dig into your skin when he feels you trembling under his hands, and all you can think about is how you want him in you.

“Please,” you say. “Please, wanna make you feel good too—”

“Hands and knees, angel,” he rasps, and, God, yes, those words cut straight through you, sharp and electric.

Maybe you should feel embarrassed at how quickly you obey. The towels underneath you, so carefully placed at the start, perfectly flat, become rumpled as you shift into position; you arch your back, wanting to look as good as possible, and glance over your shoulder to see if it works.

Judging from the look on Taehyung’s face, it does. He looks like he’s never seen anything more awe-inspiring, eyes wide and mouth a little slack, dumbstruck. But then his jaw snaps shut and he splays his hands over the soft skin of your hips, your waist, your ass, shuffling closer to you; you feel the curve of his cock slide against your skin and you bite back a noise of need.

“Fuck, so beautiful.” He ruts forward, and you can feel the wetness of his precum slicking against you, a beaded line drawn across the sheen of massage oil. “My beautiful, perfect girl.”

“Tae,” you plead, already overwhelmed with need, heart squeezing at his words.

“Just one more thing, angel, I promise.”

It’s a good thing that the bottle of massage oil is so big, considering how liberal Taehyung is with it. You gasp when he uses one hand to spread your ass and before you can react there’s a drizzle of oil falling onto your skin, down-down-down, over your cunt, dripping over your inner thighs; Taehyung catches the excess with his palms before he slicks himself up, spreading that sweet coconut over his throbbing cock.

(You wonder what it’ll taste like when you lick it off him.)

When you feel the blunt head of his cock nudging at your pussy, your entire body lights up in anticipation, nerve endings on fire, every inch of your body singing under Taehyung’s touch—and when he finally sinks in, it’s almost effortless. He’s thick and long but everything slides so easy; you gasp and he moans, both lost in how your body opens up for him, hot and wet. By the time he’s bottomed out you're a quivering mess, collapsed onto your elbows. You’re so full. You feel split open in all the best ways, wanting to draw him in impossibly deeper even so.

Taehyung is gripping your sides, hands unmoving even with the slick oil underneath them, fingers digging into your skin. He’s breathing so loud, and when you experimentally shift your hips, he bites back a noise that cuts through that breath.

“How’s it feel, love?” His words slur together in arousal, but the hand that strokes your back is slow, thoughtful. “Feel good?”

“Fuck me, Tae, baby, please,” you beg. It’s so, so so much, so good, amazing, hotter and bigger and harder than anything you’d let yourself imagine, your entire body taking Taehyung and holding him in, in, in. “Please, I need it, it feels good but I want more, please.”

When he pulls away it’s slow and torturous and he goes so far he almost slips out, cock nearly sliding out of your folds. You whine, a little shameless, mostly needy, but then—

The snap of his hips drives you forwards, towels shifting underneath as you scrabble for a hold on something. Each sharp motion of Taehyung’s body has you choking for air and letting out whimpers and gasps, drowned out by the slap of skin on skin; his hipbones meet the soft flesh of your ass, again and again, but all you can focus on is the thick heat of his cock inside you, in-out-in-out, the press of his balls against your clit, everything so wet and smooth and slick.

You can feel how you’re losing yourself to that heady place that’s golden bright with feeling, lust and sex, the rest of the world gone, unimportant. There’s nothing but this—Taehyung touching you, filling your body so well, so perfect, helping you chase that high that’s growing faster and faster, that precipice of pleasure that he’s going to throw you over again, intent on it.

One of his hands trails up your back, between that sensitive dip of your shoulder blades and into your hair, locks tangling with coconut oil before he urges you up. He doesn’t yank or pull but his hold is firm and you end up back on your hands, arms trembling as you try to keep your balance, back bowed, overwhelmed.

“Baby,” he rasps. “Oh, you’re so tight n’ hot, so pretty, fuck. You feel so good, do you feel good?”

Your answer is almost a wail, so overcome with pleasure, sensation, the glide of his hands over your shining skin, the mix of oil and arousal that drips out of you, only getting wetter with each thrust of his hips into you. “So good, o-oh God, Tae, baby, fuck, oh, theretherethere—”

“Here?”

He punctuates this with a roll of his hips, using the hand still on your hip to pull you back onto his cock as he fills you up once more, throbbing heat. He bends over you, and this time, there’s nothing stopping the skin on skin contact, the slide of his chest against your back as he kisses the soft skin behind your ear, nipping at your lobe, and that’s it, you’re gone. Your eyes slide shut and your mouth falls open as another orgasm crashes through you, legs shaking as you cum around Taehyung’s cock, grinding back against him to drag out that pleasure; the only thing holding you up is the hand still in your hair, the lips trailing up the side of your bared neck, the hard cock inside you, keeping you against him, so many points of connection with Taehyung.

(His chest pressed against your back, heart beating so hard you can feel it, your own heart moving in tandem, matching him.)

He’s been whispering filth to you, heated praise and love, how good you feel, how beautiful you are, what it’s like to see you like this, touch you like this, have you like this. Lovely, pretty, perfect, gorgeous, hot n’ wet n’ tight, fuck, love, oh.

You’re still shivering, the final pulses of your orgasm curling through you with each unintentional shift of Taehyung’s hips, the drag of his length inside your inner walls. You can feel something dripping out of you; oil, cum, you don't know, but fuck, it feels so so good.

“Oh, God,” you say. Breathless. “Oh, Taehyung, oh.”

“Pretty darling,” he murmurs. He swivels his hips, grinding against you, and your entire body jolts with oversensitivity, clit swollen where his balls press against it. You tighten around him and groan at how hot and big he still feels inside, even as you still shiver from the come down of your second orgasm. “Gonna roll you over so I can see that perfect face.”

And when you’re on your back again, fucked out and mussed and wrecked, he just stares at you. You’ve watched his face for so long, seen so many expressions flit across his features, but never something like this—it’s a mix of amazement and awe and tenderness and lust and love, a lift to his brows and a spark in his eyes and a set to his lips.

And when he leans down to kiss you, that look doesn’t leave. It melts and softens around the edges as you catch each other's mouths, as you kiss and kiss, small tender things interspersed with longer, deeper touches, lips and teeth and tongue—his eyes darken and his mouth flushes darker pink, kiss swollen and so beautiful, but that expression stays. It stays for you.

Kim Taehyung is beautiful and lovely and unique. Kim Taehyung is so far out of your reach it’s kind of stunning, actually. And yet, here you are, existence of his touch over every part of you, in every part of you, lust driven, love full; the carefully balanced weight of his body splayed over you, pinning you down, keeping you close.

“I wanna see you cum, Tae,” you say. “Please?”

And just like he always does, Taehyung indulges you, just like you indulge him. He presses back inside you, cunt opening up for him so easy, so smooth, like his touch has already been etched into the memory of your body, perfect for him. He stays pressed close, face so near as he rolls into each thrust, sweat and coconut oil painted across your skin as your bodies shift together.

He’s been covering you in his words, both heated and sweet, and now you return the favour. You tell him how good he feels, how beautiful he is, so good, so perfect, so considerate, how much you’ve wanted this. So good, so long and thick, oh, Tae, feels so good, ah-ah-ah, baby, you’re unreal, fuck.

You can see the exact moment he starts to reach his high, the way he sucks in air, the way he lifts his chin, starts to thrust a little harder, a little faster, chasing that thread of pleasure that’s spiralling through him, and you urge him on. You lift your hips and clench so tight it has him gasping, hips stuttering, and you press your nose against his jaw, saying give it to me give it to me give it to me, wanting him to feel the same pleasure he’s given you.

When he pulls out, you’re too busy moving to pay attention to how empty you feel, settling between his legs and swallowing down his shining cock almost desperately. There’s no coconut. You can only taste yourself and when you lave your tongue across his slit it’s all Taehyung-Taehyung-Taehyung, hot and salt and bitter; he gasps and his hips jump and you take it all, lowering your head as far as you can, the head of his cock at the back of your throat before you pull up, dragging your tongue over the pulsing vein at the underside, messy and wet. You drink down the wetness of his cock, your own arousal, mixed with his, the precum that beads at his head, staring up at him, your hands sliding over the sheen of his stomach, his thighs, cupping his balls, everything slick with oil and sweat.

“Oh, God.” Taehyung’s eyes are blown and his hair is a mess and his mouth is wide open as he pants for air, watching. “Baby, baby, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum.”

You suck hard, dragging your lips up from the base of the cock to the rounded tip, swirling your tongue, bobbing your head faster—

“Oh, fuck—”

—and you swallow down each wave of cum, swallow down the way his cock twitches as he spills the evidence of pleasure into your mouth, swallow down the lovely noises that shudder out of him, watching him the whole time, never wanting to look away.

When you take your mouth off his softening cock, you draw a line of kisses with your mouth, up the soft skin of his body, stomach to chest to neck to mouth. He licks the taste of coconut oil off your lips, the taste of himself off your tongue; you curl up in his lap, settled against him, the apartment’s cool air even sharper against your skin, magnified by the oil that still lingers.

(Even without the oil painted across him, Taehyung would still shine, even under the weak light from the cheap lightbulb that hangs above you.)

You feel soft and warm and small in the circle of Taehyung’s arms, pulled close, and you can hear the words in his chest as he speaks, a resonance that touches against your skin.

“‘M sorry,” he murmurs.

You pause.

“Baby, love, darling.” The endearments are sugar sweet in your mouth, soft against his skin before you pull back to look at him, confused, concerned. “Sorry for what?”

“I really—I really was just planning to do a massage, but you’re so…”

You let out a slip of laughter. The room smells of coconut and sex, but when you lay your head against Taehyung’s collarbone all you can smell is the light tinge of his sweat. You breathe in, deep, like you can hold onto that ephemeral part of him. “Oh, Tae. I’m so what?”

“You’re so good,” he says. “So good and kind and lovely and—and so beautiful. I was going to do the massage to make you happy and then… tell you. About how happy you make me.”

You burrow your head into the hollow of his neck, the way he does to you, shy. “I’m not as beautiful as you,” you reply. “Tae, you are literally the most beautiful person alive, and—God, I’ve. I’ve been. So head over heels for you.”

There’s a pause. “Really?”

When you pull back to fix Taehyung with all the surprise in your gaze, you can see that he’s surprised, too. His hair hangs into his eyes, and he looks a little unsure, like he believes you, but finds it impossible to fathom.

You leave massage oil on his cheeks when you cup his face in your hands, staring at him with wide eyes. “Kim Taehyung, I have had daily breakdowns about the intensity of my love for you to Pickles ever since we got him. You’re the first person I think about each morning—usually because we wake each other up—and the last thing I think about at night—well, usually because you end up climbing into my bed more often than not, but, it still counts,” you say. You’re both tangled together in so many ways already. “You’ve had my heart for a long time, you know. I just never thought I had a chance?”

When Taehyung kisses you, it’s brief, a hard press of his lips before he rests his forehead against yours. “You really, really have no idea how perfect you are,” he murmurs. “I’ve wanted—I want to do everything for you to show you how grateful I am for everything you do for me.”

“You don’t have to,” you protest, but he just smiles.

“I don’t have to, but I want to,” he says. “Like you don’t have to look after me, but you do.”

“That’s because I love you,” you say. “Like, capital L love you.”

You’ve been so afraid of confessing, so convinced that it was an unattainable dream; that Kim Taehyung would never, could never, has never seen you as more than a friend. But the way he’s looking at you now, the way he’s touched you, the way your body still echoes with the feeling of him inside you: you’re not scared, any more. You don’t need to be.

Taehyung’s eyes are so dark and warm when he replies, easy and effortless. “I love you, too.”

Your relationship has always been a give and take, is the thing. When you climb in the shower together, he washes the oil from your back while you massage shampoo into his scalp, laughing when he makes devil horns in his hair. He catches you by surprise when he presses you against the tiles, swallowing your moans when he coaxes one final orgasm from your tired body, rubbing tight circles over your clit as you buck against his hand and water cascades over you both. His cock hardens in your hands, sliding between your legs when you press them together, tight-tight-tight, his length rubbing against your cunt as he fucks your thighs until he’s moaning and shaking and cumming again.

(The water’s cold by the time you finally climb out, but that’s okay. You giggle and kiss as you dry yourselves, each other, excuses to keep touching and feeling, driven by affection, not lust.)

When you’re both clean, and dry, Taehyung’s leg thrown over your hip as he tugs you in, flush with his body under the covers, you press your lips against the line of his jaw.

“Taehyung?”

“Yes, angel?”

You smile and hunch up even closer to him, scrunching yourself up as small as you can to plaster yourself against his side. “Thank you for the wonderful massage. Definitely the best massage I’ve ever been given, ten out of ten, would do again.”

Taehyung laughs, pressing his rectangular smile into the kiss he lays against your lips, and you think that nothing tastes better than the happiness curling his mouth.

“Love you,” he murmurs. Always romantic. “I love you love you love you.”

“Tae-honey-hyung.” And it feels so nice to not have to filter your words, to bite back that second layer of meaning, to try and keep things platonic and chaste when you speak. “I love you.”

And it feels so nice to have your Taehyung beside you, your body still aching with the press of him inside you, a good ache, a nice ache. A physical ache from good love, rather than a heartache from a love you didn’t think was reciprocated. But it is, somehow, each of you so bowled over by each other.

(“Hey, Pickles.”

The bearded dragon looks up at you, placid as he lounges in his tank.

“Well, you’ll be happy to hear that you won’t have to put up with me ranting at you any more,” you say. “Taehyung did break out the massage oil but it’s all good. I didn’t spontaneously combust or anything, like I thought I would.”

Pickles’ tongue flicks out as he shifts, and you smile.

“Okay, that’s it, I’m done,” you finish. “Thanks, Pickles. You’re a real pal.”

Taehyung nuzzles into your neck. His arms are a tight circle around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder as he looks down at the reptile, too. He’s warm and solid against your back, and you lean into him, happiness tingling through you.

“I wonder how much longer we would have taken if you didn’t get that coupon for a massage therapy course,” you muse, and Taehyung chuckles, warm and lovely.

“We would have gotten there eventually. And we would have had each other until we did, anyway. Right, angel?”

Pickles stays quiet as you both kiss, but you can tell he approves.)

taglist: @beyoncesdragon

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nothingbutimagines · 3 years

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Everything You Want (Peter Parker)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warning: Cursing, lots of fluff and cliches

Summary: When Y/n breaks up with her ex, she declares to her friends that she will never, by any means, fall in love again. To her surprise, Peter seems to take this as a challenge, trying to win her heart in a mere afternoon.

Author: Dizzy

A/N: I was on a bit of an unexpected hiatus, but I am here to stay. School and quarantine was kicking my ass and my family is moving halfway across the country so things have been very hectic around here. But, with Falcon and the Winter Solider and me rewatching all the Marvel movies to cope with this wack ass time, I am feeling inspired.

Masterlist Request Any Of These Peter Parker/Tom Holland Masterlist

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“That’s it!” You slammed your lunch tray down on the cafeteria table as you huffed and sat down beside MJ. “I’m done with men. I hate love. I’m over it.”

MJ looked over at you and sighed, rolling her eyes. She didn’t believe you, especially since the boy you’d broken up with was the boy you dated not even a week after swearing off men the last time.

“What are you talking about?” Ned asked before receiving a swift kick from MJ.

“Don’t ask about it.” The girl replied through gritted teeth as she fully turned on the bench to face you. “Y/n, you know I love you, but I can’t help but think you’re being a little rash.”

“Rash?” You scoffed. “You wanna talk about rash? MJ, you broke up with Ethan Brooks in eighth grade because he accidentally stepped on your foot at the winter formal.”

“I know you’re just being harsh because you’re heartbroken, but let’s be real, Y/n, you don’t hate love.”

“Yes, yes I do. I’m never, ever, ever going to fall in love. I’m not even going to think about it. I now will live in a world of tragedy and heartbreak because love does not exist.”

You stabbed your fork into your mac and cheese aggressively. Maybe MJ was right, you thought, you might have been being a little harsh and you were very heartbroken.

You had the unfortunate curse of being a romantic, loving the idea of love and anything having to do with a good rom-com. You couldn’t help but fall in love with everyone you’d ever had a romantic moment with. You just loved the experience that came with being in love.

However, now sitting heartbroken and eating your feelings in mac and cheese, you really really didn’t like the idea of falling in love and would have rather fallen off the face of the earth than like another boy.

MJ sighed heavily, reading your body language and knowing you wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and watch a sad movie.

“Y/n, I know you’re sad, but look on the bright side, you have more time to hang out with us. We’re going to the movies after school today.”

You looked between your three friends, smiling shyly. “Thanks, guys, but I really just feel like being alone.”

“Oh, come on, Y/n.” Peter sighed, giving you a nudge with his foot. “I know you secretly want to pig out on popcorn and see that new horror movie.”

“I don’t think so, Peter. I really don’t feel good.”

Peter pouted, giving you puppy dog eyes. “Please, Bug, come on. You blew me off last week to go out with Brad and we’re best friends. You owe me one.”

“I thought we were best friends.” Ned spoke up, earning another swift kick from Peter. “Ow! What is with you guys and abusing me?”

You smiled, rolling your eyes at your friends. Especially at Peter, who seemed serious enough to use the only face you couldn’t resist and a nickname that always seemed to keep your attention on him.

“I’ll think about it.” You caved, taking another bite of your food.

“Don’t think. Just say yes.”

“Are you seriously going to be pushy right now, Parker?” You raised a brow at him. “I am heartbroken. Sick with sadness.”

“I’m just saying, the best way to get over someone-”

“Is to get under someone.” Ned stated proudly, cutting Peter off.

“Ew, no!” Peter gave Ned a light shove. “I was going to say that the best way to get over someone is to be around people who care about you.”

“Or burning his personal belongings before he asks for them back.” MJ added, stealing a fork full of your mac and cheese. “We could always burn Brad’s stuff and roast marshmallows over it.”

“I like MJ’s idea way better than going to the movies.” You agreed, pointing to the girl beside you while you locked eyes with Peter.

“We’re not going to burn his stuff!” Peter exclaimed as MJ frowned. “I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to burn someone else’s property and we already made plans to go to the movie.”

“Well, damn.” You frowned. “Now look who’s being harsh.”

MJ began to chuckle beside you as Peter began to frown.

“Harsh would be me forcing you to go to the movie.”

“Oh yeah, and badgering me to go isn’t forcing me right, Peter?” You raised a brow at him as you finished the last of your meal.

“At least I’m asking and not physically forcing you to go.”

“That is true.” You shrugged. “I guess I’ll come, but if I am having a terrible time, you have to take me home.”

“Always.” Peter smiled, nodding as he reached forward and grabbed your hand. “It’ll be fun, Bug. I swear.”

You shrugged, squeezing the boy’s hand as the bell rang loudly. You pulled away quickly, catching a glance at your now ex-boyfriend and the girl attached to his arm as he walked past your table. You cleared your throat, corralling your things together as you rose from your spot on the bench.

“I’ll-I’ll, uh, see you guys later. I’ve got to get to Chem. I can’t be late again or I’ll get a detention.” You stammered, feeling the tears prick at your eyes as you pulled your books in your arms.

“Let me walk with you.” Peter offered, noticing the sudden change in your mood as he rose from his seat and rounded the table to where you stood. “I have to get to Bio next door anyway.”

You nodded silently, surprised when you felt Peter’s hand press lightly against the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd in silence.

“You know, Bug, it’s okay to say things aren’t okay.” He finally said as you made it into the outer corridor of the cafeteria.

You bit your lip at his words, holding back the tears as you glanced over at him so he could finally see your eyes and cheeks red with pent up feelings.

“I’m fine.” You choked out, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat.

Peter pulled you aside, out of the way of the walking students. His eyes, you could see as he rested his hands on your shoulders and forced you to look at him, were full of concern.

“I know you’re not. You want to talk about it?”

You couldn’t help it, the warmth and care in his brown eyes caused your tears to begin to fall as your hand shot up to wipe them quickly.

“You must think I’m pathetic.” You laughed uncomfortably as you spoke, “I’m crying over some stupid boy and you have to watch.”

Peter shook his head, his expression clearly showing the confusion in his mind as he looked at you.

He never found you pathetic nor would he ever. On the contrary, he found you to be the most amazing person he’d had ever known, and not just because you were best friends. Watching you cry, he realized something he’d never wanted to take a good hard look at.

You were the girl he’d always wanted to be with and you’d always kept him on the sidelines. You were everything he’d ever wanted and yet you always kept him as the best friend, the shoulder to cry on, the boy who often kept you afloat.

For a girl so in love with romance and cliches, you’d never realized how much of a walking cliche the two of you were.

Not that Peter was upset. He would never be upset by that, especially when you still allowed for him to be so close by your side.

“Oh, Y/n.” He pulled you into a hug after giving you a moment to clean yourself up. “I would never think you were pathetic. You’re the best person I know.”

You sniffed, bringing your arms around him to embrace him back before pulling away and looking up at him.

“You really think so?”

“I know so.” He gave you a shy smile as he glanced down at you.

Your eyes traveled from gazing into his and looking to the spot on his shirt that you had now stained with tears and mascara.

“Even if I stained your nice white shirt with my make up?”

Peter pulled away, looking down at the shoulder of his shirt as he tugged at it to see the stain better. He sighed, chuckling lightly as he looked at you with a smile as warm as the look in his eyes.

“I have other shirts. I didn’t really like this one, anyway.”

“Peter, that’s your favorite one.”

Peter shrugged, letting go of the fabric between his fingers as he looked at you, wiping away the last remaining tear that clung to your cheekbone. “I’ll just have to find a new favorite then.”

You swallowed a bit, your hand reaching up and resting on his wrist as you smiled shyly, sudden feeling nervous.

“I should probably get to class.” You said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Peter’s hand fell from your face quickly as he became aware of the new energy between you two.

“Yeah, yeah.” He cleared his throat harshly. “I should get going too.”

You nodded, allowing for silence to fall between you two as you quickly rushed to class, giving him a small wave before walking into the classroom.

The rest of the day felt uneventful and monotone with spurts of sadness and confusion here and there. You could feel the heartache of your breakup settle in every once in a while, especially in moments in which you let your mind wander while watching your ex-boyfriend now flirt with the girl beside him.

When your mind wasn’t wandering with thoughts of pain and heartbreak, it was full of thoughts of Peter and the moment you shared in the hallway.

It wasn’t that you’d never had a moment like that with Peter before, you’d had plenty of moments in which he comforted you while you were upset and visa versa. You were best friends, of course you’d have your fair share of comforting moments, such as the time when you spent a week at Peter’s house after his uncle passed away.

However, while you sat in class with your pen between your lips as you watched and counted down the minutes to the bell ringing, you couldn’t shake the feeling that that moment in the hallway meant something more to you.

As the bell finally rang, you practically ran out of the classroom and into the hall, only to run into the person you were looking for.

You feel backwards and onto the floor, slightly shocked by your bottom hitting the ground as Peter’s hand shot out towards you as he bent over.

“Shit, Y/n, you okay?” He asked as you grabbed his hand and allowed for him to help you up.

You dusted yourself off before picking up your bag. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“What were you running for?”

“I was, uh, looking for you. We’re supposed to go to a movie, right?”

Peter nodded, starting to walk towards the front entrance of the school, his hands shoved into his pockets as you walked closely beside him.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked after the silence between you felt too heavy for him to bear.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I don’t know how I could really feel better while having to see my newly ex flirt with another girl not even 24 hours after our breakup.”

“I’m sorry, Bug.”

“It’s not your fault.” You shrugged, kicking a rock that sat on the sidewalk in front of you. “He can do what he wants. He’s a single man now.”

“I wouldn’t call him much of a man.” Peter admitted, taking a look in your direction.

You kicked the rock again as you approached it, watching it bounce and tumble down the sidewalk and into the grass.

“Are MJ and Ned going to meet us at the theater or what’s the plan?” You asked, trying to derail the conversation from the topic you had no interest in rehashing.

Peter pulled a hand from his pocket and rubbed the back of his neck before putting it back in his pocket. He should’ve known you’d ask about the other two people who were supposed to be in attendance to your evening out.

“MJ had to go to detention since she’s behind on her sketchbook work for art class. You know how she is, likes to draw people in detention for whatever reason. And Ned went home sick after lunch. He made the mistake of eating the meatloaf.” He lied, surprised he thought of something believable off the top of his head.

In reality, he paid MJ twenty dollars to refrain from going to the movie and to lie about her whereabouts, something she never had trouble at doing, and he promised Ned that he’d spend the rest of the weekend helping him build another Star Wars lego model even though Peter wanted to grow out of the habit of playing with legos.

You frowned a bit, having hoped you could’ve had some much needed girl time with MJ and wanting the funny commentary and banter of Ned during a movie that would normally terrify you.

“Oh. Well, that sucks, but it’s okay. At least we’re still going together.” You raised your frown into a slight smile.

Silence fell between you once again, leaving the only audible sound to be the wind and your heels hitting the ground in unison as you walked towards the movie theater.

“Don’t worry about paying tonight. It’s my treat.” Peter stated as the theater came into view on the horizon.

“Oh, Peter, you don’t have to.”

“No, I want to. Just let me treat you to a night out. I feel bad that you’ve been having a rough day, so it’s the least I could do.”

You reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks before you engulfed him into a hug with your arms tight around his neck and your perfume filling his nostrils.

“Peter Parker, you are truly my best friend and the love of my life.” You announced proudly, not realizing that the words warmed Peter in a way he’d never experienced before.

“I love you too, Y/n, but I cannot breathe with you choking me out like this.” He said softly, pretending to wheeze as you pulled away, giving him a shove.

“You are so dramatic.” You chuckled, starting to walk down the sidewalk once again.

“I’m dramatic?” Peter scoffed as he jogged to keep up with you. “Aren’t you the theater nerd?”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not also a drama queen.”

“I’ll have you know, I am very good at keeping my cool.”

“Tell that to Flash Thompson and your little rivalry.”

“Flash is an asshole.”

“I’m not saying he isn’t,” you argued, “all I’m saying is that you get a bit dramatic with him. I like to think he’s secretly in love with you.”

“Ew, gross.” Peter shook his head. “Flash is the last person I’d want a dramatic romance with.”

“I think Flash is the last person anyone wants to have a romance with.” You laughed.

Peter was glad that it seemed your spirits were lifting as you finally made it to the theater. He could feel his own spirits lifted by your bettering mood which left him not needing to worry as much.

He didn’t know whether it was the elation in mood he was feeling between the two of you or the instinctive urge to keep you close and protected that had him reaching for your hand as he opened the door to the theater to let you in first, but as you walked through the corridor, he grabbed it without thought or hesitation.

You didn’t know what possessed him to grab your hand either, but you found yourself refraining from questioning it, wanting to feel the warmth and caring touch of someone else. Though your spirits were lifted a bit, you still felt lonely deep down.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, glancing down at you as he grabbed the tickets from the girl at the ticket counter and began to guide you towards the snack bar.

You nodded, unsure of what to say as Peter continued to watch you closely. You held your breath, suddenly nervous with his eyes on you before you were saved by his eyes travelling to view the menu far above your head.

“I’m thinking we get a large popcorn and two sodas.” He thought out loud as you frowned. “Unless, that’s not what you want?”

You blinked, shaking your head quickly as you spoke. “No, no, sorry. I got lost in thought. That sounds fine. I’m not that hungry, though.”

“How are you not hungry? You ate two bites of mac and cheese at lunch and then pushed it around on your tray.”

You shrugged, pulling your hand from his and crossing your arms over your chest. You were somewhat building up an appetite, but every time you did, you suddenly felt sick by your own intrusive thoughts about your heartache and break up with a boy you knew you shouldn’t have been crying over.

“I guess I’m not really in the mood to eat too much.” You finally said.

“Well, I’m still getting the large and if you ask for any, I won’t give you some. You already said no.” Peter teased.

“Oh, you would never say no to me.”

“You wanna bet?” Peter raised a brow as you reached the front of the short line.

“I’ll bet you a bag of overpriced M&M’s.”

“I thought you weren’t hungry.”

“I am always hungry for M&M’s.”

Peter smiled with a light eye roll. “Alright, but you can’t eat any until we determine who won.”

“Deal.”

You smiled as he turned away from you, ordering your snacks and you began taking each one from him before he carried the popcorn and his drink and you carried your own drink and the bag of M&M’s you were so excited to win. You watched your feet fall to the ground to his in unison as you two stayed silent, trying to navigate the hallway for the theater your movie was in.

“Hey, Peter?” You caught the boy’s attention as he walked through the open door of your theater, a fistful of popcorn in his hand as he looked at you.

“Yeah?” He began walking backwards as he faced you and tossed the popcorn into his mouth.

“Can I have some popcorn?”

“Yeah, sure.” He nodded as he spoke through his mouthful of popcorn and held the bucket out to you.

You began laughing, taking a few pieces of popcorn and popping them into your mouth.

“Why are you laughing?” Peter asked as you were giggling beside him now following him up the stairs of the theater before looking down at his bucket. “Oh. I guess you can have those M&M’s after all.”

“We just made this bet! How’d you forget already?” You chuckled, walking past him and into an aisle, picking the perfect seat in the middle of the theater.

“I-I don’t know! I got so involved in the popcorn I forgot.”

“I guess that’s one way of saying you want to marry a food item.” You teased as he rolled his eyes and took a seat beside you.

“You know, I’m not going to get mad cause you’re going through it, but when you’re over it, I will get you back for this.”

“How? You’re already a victim of premature Alzheimer’s. You won’t remember this by the time I get a new boyfriend.”

You reached over, grabbing a handful of popcorn and beginning to eat the pieces one by one as you watched Peter closely.

“You know, sometimes I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“How would you know?”

“Cause you don’t even have a mean bone in your body. Flash bullies you mercilessly and you don’t even say anything back.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No.” You shook your head. “It makes you a good guy. And we need good guys in this world.”

“You think I’m a good guy?” Peter raised his brow as you nodded wildly at him.

“Of course I do.” You leaned over, placing a hand on his. “You’re not just a good guy, but a guy too good for this world, you know? You deserve the world, but the world doesn’t deserve you.”

Peter leaned in close to you. “Sorry, I don’t think I heard that.”

You could feel your breath hitch as he leaned in, his face a few mere inches from yours. It wasn’t that you were scared, but nervous at your excitement at the thought of him kissing you.

Peter could feel your anxious energy as he leaned in close, the urge to kiss you in the way he’d always wanted to growing strong as he moved his head so your lips were lined up to his ear. It wasn’t that he wanted to kiss you, but he didn’t want to take advantage of your loneliness in that moment.

You leaned in close to his ear, your nostrils now full of his shampoo as you spoke softly. “I said that I thought you were such a great guy that you deserve the world, but the world doesn’t deserve you.”

“You mean that?” He answered back, his voice as soft as your own.

He did dare lean back or move his head from the position it was in for fear that he’d kiss you so soon. The words you were saying were ones he always wanted you to say, but never thought would come out. He wanted to be everything you ever wanted, but your words now felt somewhat short yet so close to that sentiment.

“Of course I do.” You replied, your own urge to kiss him rising steadfast in the back of your mind.

You couldn’t tell if it was your loneliness or the sudden dimming of the theater lights that had you realizing that all you wanted was to cross the line of friendship with Peter, a line you never realized was made to be crossed when it came to your friendship.

Every touch, every sweet nothing, every thing about him you loved began to swirl around in your mind as you pulled away from him and gazed into his eyes before planting your lips on his, pushing him back into the armrest of his seat.

Peter was shocked by the gesture as he leaned into the kiss, his hands resting on your cheeks before you pulled away from him breathlessly.

“Y/n, I-”

“Peter.” You cut him off before giggling. “Go ahead.”

“Bug, I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you and your feelings about your breakup even though I really like you and-”

You cut the boy off with another kiss, not wanting to hear what he had to say. You knew he was going to give you some speech about how you might not know what your feeling and so on, but you didn’t care. You knew that you kissed him and you liked it and that it felt more right than any date with Brad.

You pulled away, putting a hand over his mouth before he could speak as you began to instead. “Peter, I know how I feel. I like you too, okay? Now, can we just take advantage of the fact we’re some of the few people in here and just hang out?”

Peter nodded, pulling your hand off of him. “I think I’d like that.”

299 notes · View notes

sayorseee · 2 years

Text

All the messy, incoherent posts from my z3 premiere live tweets and first two rewatch livetweets

this gets long

Pre Z3 Release, Post Soundtrack/MV Release

I’ve cried three times from the songs alone HELP

Now that I’ve seen all the songs I don’t think I can rewatch z1 and 2 I think I’m gonna sit here with exceptional zed and come on out on repeat for two more hours until it’s movie time

I have been teased with so many almost kissed in these songs

When they do someday dance moves in ain’t no doubt about it??? Sobbing my eyes out

Ariel stepped up her GAME this movie

The werewolf barber and zombie tailor are my new favorite background charscters

Can’t wait to see zed get blasted through a mf doorway also like 2 ½ of these songs involve the aliens they cannot be that importsnt to the plot

I have never felt more gay than watching Willa in come on out I will NOT STOP SAYING IT

Premiere (approx 3:10am EST - 7am)

The opening animation is really cute

YES ELIZA INTERNSHIP QUEEN

Oh my god I love Wyatt so much

Willa our fearless werewolf cheerleader!

Love that the aceys are tired of Bucky finally!

ZED AND WYNTER HOWLING

The parents! I love them!!

I audibly screamed when wynter hit the bus and it is past three am my roommates are gonna kill me

ALIEN INVASION ALIEN INVASION

The way everyone was ready to fight

ZOMBIE PATROL THE ADULTS THIS IS SO GOOD

This is too good I have to pay attention

Not aspen roasting zed IM DYING

Not the one star planet comment

MOTHERSHIP IS GREAT

Twenty minutes and Zed and Addison’s are experiencing the tradition growing up doubts where everything suddenly terrifies you and I love it

The aliens are great singer and the dancing is amazing I love ain’t no doubt about it

Why does everyone wanna go to college it sucks here

How is zed THIRD IN CLASS HOW IS HE SO SMART

I love the aliens

I love how nothing is working out for wyliza all my homies hate Wyliza

Omg Bree is gonna fight I love this

Ali is the BEST

A werewolf on zombie patrol!?

OH MY GOD RHE MOTHERSHIP IS SO FUNNY

I will never stop being gay for Willa

Not my girl addison wandering around

Ali is no longer on the same wavelength as all the aliens, new gay crush

Ali is the best

Not the grandma storyline!!

The lashes on Addison are insane

The way he (Zed) puts his arms around her!! I’m CRYING this is as they’re walking away after being beamed down it’s so cute

The werewolves giving zed a pep talk I love them I love this movie

The exceptional zed dancing is so great

I just love the way Milo sings OMG THE ZOEY VERSE

Oh no, mishaps!

ALIEN POWERS

ADDISON HAS A MIDDLE NAME!?

The interview scene is top tier! Addison and Zed being excited for Addison and her powers yet being stressed

Oh my god Bucky

WYNTER LIKES CAT VIDEOS

NOT WYATT WITH THE CRUSH

ZED’S PHONE

Omg ZED YES KING BEHAVIOR

IM FINALLY MEEEEE

Zed will fight

ASPEN PLEASE “she can have it!”

Zoey and Zed will fight for these aliens

Zed loves Addison no matter what she looks like I love it so much

I feel like it’s a f you for Addison to be the most precious thing and not her mom

This is so sad let zed go with!

Did we really need the Wyliza side story???

NOT HER DROPPING IT

ZEDDISON FOR THE WIN

HOLY FUCK THAT ZEDDISON KISS IMA WATCH IT AGAIN

Everyone sadly missing Addison this is the someday I needed 😭😭

“Conflict is good” ok Disney whatever 🖕😭

THE SEABROOK MUSIC YES

Kinda wish Bucky had white hair in the end also why is every character in this movie graduating at the same time

TWO WHOLE KISSES

Zed’s “hi baby” at the end I’m CRYING

Other initial thoughts from my first watch

2nd Watch (3:18pm - ~ 5pm EST)

Addison’s parents and Zed’s dad being friends = amazing!

I love wynter’s energy btw

Cannot believe alien invasion is ten minutes into the movie

I love how no one in Seabrook knows how to feel about the aliens

Normally I would hate that Addison’s an alien but like, they added it in so well and everyone portrayed it so well that I’m actually so happy for her… like we got Addison family background happy zeddison what more could I ask for

All of Zed and Bonzo’s interactions prove their besties!!!

“One star planet” Ali please

MOTHERSHIP MY BELOVED

They really just don’t explain that statue it’s just there huh

I’m gonna assume ain’t no doubt about it is just how zed and Addison are whenever a new species isn’t invading their town

Alan my beloved I love your competitive nature

WHEN ASPEN STARTS SOBBING THO … they are not used to emotion

Ali is amazing she’s our new comedic relief in the alien trio and I love her for it

Mothership going on strike is hilarious

If I were four years younger ‘come on out’ would’ve made me realize I was gay which I think is so funny (cuz of the name)

The way they always go “Ali” with so much shock 😂

Zed is like really happy listening to the scout’s log. Like not in a weird way in a reminiscing way I love it

They way they cast addison out so quick yet in the end she still went with them. I’d be so petty like ‘have fun finding home bitches”

Looking around Addison’s room for pictures of zed… (looks like there’s one on her nightstand also SHE HAS A TEDDY BEAR I LOVE HER)

All the cast members who can’t dance standing all the way in the back of exceptional zed is so funny to me

The way Zed’s whole family got all dressed up ima cry

The way addison was bout to fight this lady when she said despite

“IM SO SORRY” “don’t be!” And her SMILE ADDISON GIRL

she’s so in love every time she’s just looking at him her smile my god

When I first saw the I’m finally me video I thought zed and Addison got in a fight and that’s why he wasn’t there but the real reason is so much better

Gonna fight my way through finally me I’ll watch it in it’s entirety this time I promise

So glad things are finally working out for Seabrook they haven’t won in so long

Aspen is me when I see Willa

Pretty messed up Missy never shared this with anyone imo

I didn’t skip someday this time WHY AM I CRYING

I never actually watched them reminiscing over Addison and it sounds like she died she’s still HERE SHE’LL BE BACK I SWEAR

I do love z3 I like it more than z2 and I may be alone in this opinion but it’s true

3rd and Final Livetweet Rewatch

Never noticed the werewolves backpacks before which is just a reminder that all these monsters gave up their freedom of living however they want to go to HIGH SCHOOL

“This shrimpy be CRAY” I love wynter (their energy her and Zed are the chaotic duo I need more of)

ALIEN INVASION MY BEST FRIEND MY WORST ENEMY YOU SET THE TONE OF THE MOVIE AND YOU WERE WRONG THIS IS MORE FEEL GOOD THEN SCI-FI ADVENTURE

all my homies hate alien invasion

Bree with no power in the back about to take the aliens on in hand to hand combat I love her

also Zevon holding Zoey back the girls in this movie are WILD I love them

I love when Aspen calls zed “meh” like bestie you end up crushing on him within the next hour 😭

Zed spends the whole movie getting electrocuted I’m CRYING

MOTHERSHIP MOTHERSHIP ANOTHER DAY TO LOVE MOTHERSHIP

Zeddison’s nose scrunches and and nose kisses and I love them I love them

There is something so personal about z3 wynter! 1. “This shrimp be CRAY!!” 2. “No fleas!” :D 3. “So catty. Clearly not raised by wolves.”

Willa is taking/reading about philosophy…I wonder why

The aliens and the pencil sharpener scene 😂

I can’t pick a favorite alien I love all of them so much

Lotta Acey in fighting I love it

Yes come on out come on out yes yes yes

everyone looks so fucking hot in this number

Addison was clearly never told “if you’re lost, stand in place”

Someone needs to let Ali fight she needs to let out some steam

Ali and Zed are such a funny duo cuz 80% he’s teasing her for her anger and she’s being annoyed with him and then they become besties

I love how zed is so happy for Addison he is now her biggest cheerleader

z2 he was questionable but now? redeemed

Zed’s house is so well decorated btw and Addison’s. All the family photos they took to decorate her room 😂

Exceptional zed is my fave

Zed and Wyatt friendship top tier

All of Seabrook cheering zed on be z1 when everyone was rooting against him

Signature early 2000s final chorus key change slaps in exceptional zed

Exceptional zed reprise is so good

Not Eliza going searching for Wyatt’s mind probe

Willa looks so annoyed that she’s working with Bucky I love it

When zed gets into college 🥺 the exceptional zed music playing under 🥺

I’m finally me is giving early 2000s dcom vibes

Like in theory addison could take them to their new planet and they could just bring her back after right…?

As much as I love zed’s half sacrifice (half cuz he didn’t die but he did put his life on the line) it would’ve been a bit more impactful if Willa joined. All of Seabrook united as one!

We all agree that Bucky wears the hat to help hide his alien self. I mean he’s flying on the space ship so clearly he has the stardust spark!

#sarah livetweets z3 #z3 spoilers #zombies 3 spoilers #zombies #zeddison #bysarah

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leossmoonn · 4 years

Text

Unexpected Love [Kai Parker] || Part One

masterlist

pairing - kai parker x fem, human!reader

type - fluff, angst

note / request - this request is by @mrs-parker-1972 “The reader is on the other side with the others, and gets trapped there with bonnie and damon, or you can just skip to part when all three of them are in the prison world. So i am not really sure on how the reader meets kai, but you can improvise that part, I trust you. And then well, um, the reader and kai will hate each other and despise each other (damon and bonnie are in the real time world I guess?) And then kai does something human for the reader (you know, coz he doesn't have feelings) and it wakes something in him and the reader and kai grow close to each other, and I really don't know what else, but like can you, make their time in the prison world longer?? (Kai and the reader's) . And please it would be hilarious if you could add some comedic lines if damon, coz you know, damon is damon. And it would be AWESOME if you added the deleted scene of kai Parker where he is really emotional, and he says that after the reader touches a really soft spot about his child hood. And please make the reader human.”

note - so i was planning on just rewatching the 6th season and copying scenes but i discovered it would take so long lol, so i split this into a 4 parts. i also didn’t really copy anything from the show, just the scene at the end. so most of this is just my writing. part two is at the end and word count is 7k+

summary - you and kai fall in love over a period of time after spending time with each other in the prison world

warnings / includes - language, alcohol, crying, fighting,

————

*gif isn't mine*

“Maybe if you didn’t take so long to look for Alaric, we would still be alive!” I exclaimed.

“Hey, you’re the one who insisted that you have a whole conversation with Lexi about the last few years,” Damon spat.

“Yeah, but we were both already with Bonnie. You were miles away!”

“You two stop it!” Bonnie shouted, putting her hands up in-between Damon and I.

“No, Damon needs to know that this is his fault,” I glared.

“Oh, hardly. Why were you even there, again?” Damon asked.

“Because you twisted my neck, jackass. Which thank you, by the way,” you smiled sourly.

“Man, I wish you weren’t wearing that ring. You being dead right now would really-”

“Damon!” Bonnie yelled again. “I’m serious. You two need to stop. You’re giving me a headache.”

“Not my fault,” I mumbled, looking down at the road.

“Liar,” Damon said not-so-quietly.

“Before you two start again, let me remind you that I’m scared and mad, too. We can’t just fight the whole time, though. We need to see if we can get out. You two have been fighting about this for months, so stop,” Bonnie said.

“We’re dead, Bon-Bon. We can’t get out,” Damon said.

I rolled my eyes and started to walk away from them. I couldn’t stand Damon.

“Where are you going?” Damon exclaimed.

“To look for a way out, and to get away from you!” I yelled without looking back.

“See? She’s useless,” Damon muttered behind my back.

I let out a long, distressed sigh. “I’m going back home.”

“Same. I need some food,” Bonnie said, catching up with me.

We walked for miles until we got to Damon’s house. I was sweating and panting by the time we got there. We had no cars so it was a good 5 mile walk.

“Need any water?” Damon asked as we walked inside his house.

“Yes, please,” I breathed out.

I trudged over to the couch, flopping down and taking my sneakers off. Damon came back over with a big class of cold water. I smiled at him gratefully, standing up to take it. Damon had other ideas, though. He lifted the glass up to the top of his head, making it hard for me to grab it.

“Oh, c’mon. You’re such a dick!” I whined, jumping up. My fingertips skimmed the bottom the glass, but I still was just a little too short to grab it.

“Say that magic words,” Damon smirked.

I rolled my eyes. “Thank you, oh great wise one.”

Damon smiled happily, setting the glass down on the table.

“Jerk,” I muttered, taking a long sip of the water.

“You love me!” Damon sang. “Nope,” I shook my head.

“Hey, we need to get more food,” Bonnie stated from the kitchen.

“Then go and get it, Bon-Bon,” Damon muttered.

“I was just about to, Damon,” Bonnie spat.

“Maybe you can go and learn magic again, too,” Damon snickered.

I turned my head to him. glaring. “Wow, you are just full of shit today. Huh, Damon?”

Damon rolled his eyes at my insult. “Yeah, well, I don’t want to be stuck here. I want to see Elena.”

“And you will! Who knows, maybe I’ll get my magic back. While I’m out I’ll go and practice magic,” Bonnie shrugged off Damon’s insult.

“Good idea. I’ll go with you,” I smiled, standing up and slipping back on my shoes.

“With all do respect Bonnie, you haven’t been able to do magic ever since you became the anchor. What makes you think you can do it now?” Damon asked.

“Just have faith, Damon. She can do it. I know it,” I smiled at Bonnie, who smiled gratefully back at me.

“Fine. But are you guys gonna leave me all alone?” Damon whined.

“Yep,” I nodded, walking over to the door.

“Who’s the rude one now?” Damon challenged. I put a finger up to my chin and hummed, pretending that I was thinking hard. I then put on a charming smile.

“Still you. Ready Bonnie?” I turned to the girl next to me who was putting on a jacket.

“Yep. See you later, Damon,” Bonnie smiled and waved.

“See you,” I nodded.

Damon waved goodbye as we shut the door behind us. I walked with Bonnie until we split off. She went to her grandmother’s house, while I went to the little supermarket a few miles out.

Walking there was a pain in the ass. I had my car keys with me, but I couldn’t seem to find my car. Even though this place had everything else; Damon’s house, my house, Bonnie’s grandmother’s house. Even Elena’s house. Just not my car, which pissed me off, but I knew I couldn’t start to get mad again. Getting angry and upset wouldn’t help us get out of here.

I walked up to the supermarket and entered the market, expecting someone to be at the register, but no one was there. I laughed at myself for expecting someone. Every time I’ve gone out, I’ve always expected to see people. But I remind myself that I’m dead. Of course no one would be here. We were all alone. Those cars outside were just there because this was just a very real, very confusing after-life.

I grabbed a shopping cart and started getting the stuff we needed. Eggs, milk, fruit, vegetables, bread. I then got some soda and water bottle cases, some bags of chips and sweets. I went over to the frozen food section and got a few microwavable dinners and some ingredients to make food like chilli and tacos. I went around the store once more, making sure I got everything we needed. I passed one shelf, stopping once I realised that something was missing.

“I thought there were pork rinds here,” I muttered.

Merry-go-round music then started to play. I turned a full 360, trying to see if there was anybody in the store with me. No one was here. I went outside of the store, seeing the little merry-go-round spinning.

“That’s weird,” I mumbled.

I heard the sound of flapping and my head snapped to the sound. I saw someone pass by in a flash. Goosebumps sprung up on my arms and the hairs on the back of my neck raised. I got this uneasy feeling in my stomach as my mind went to disturbing thoughts.

“Hello?” I called out.

I walked further into the parking lot, hearing the noise again. I sighed as I realised it was probably just Damon pulling a prank on me.

“Very funny, Damon! You’ve freaked me out, good job. You can come out now!” I exclaimed, my eyes searching the open area.

The merry-go-round came to a stop and I let out a deep breath to try and calm myself down. Bonnie, Damon, and I were the only ones here. No one was going to hurt me… Right?

The merry-go-round music started up again suddenly. I jumped in surprise and fear, doing another 360.

“Must be on a timer,” I muttered.

“False,” an unfamiliar, matter-of-fact voice spoke behind me.

I froze in my spot, afraid to turn around as I knew that definitely wasn’t Damon.

“Don’t be scared. I won’t hurt you,” the voice said, getting closer to me.

The person appeared in front of me. I stiffened up more as the voice belonged to a man. A very attractive man, might I add. He had a big, teasing smile on his face. His blue eyes danced around my face, studying me as I studied him. He had brown hair that was combed up, wearing jeans, a black t-shirt, a green jacket and carrying a bag of pork rinds.

“Oh, you’re the one who stole the pork rinds. Who are you?” I asked. “I’m Kai,” the man held his free hand out.

My eyes flickered down to his arm and back up to his eyes. I put my hand out gingerly, slipping my hand into his slowly. I kept eye contact as we shook hands. My stomach did flips as we touched.

“Nice to meet you, Kai. I’m Y/n,” I offered him a friendly smile.

“Oh, I know,” Kai shrugged. I furrowed my brows, instinctively pulling my hand away from his.

“How?” I asked.

“I’ve been watching you and your friends for a while,” he admitted.

“Oh,” I said, my eyes wide in shock.

“Yep! It’s so nice to have friends now. Man, I have been really lonely,” he chuckled.

“We aren’t friends. And what do you mean you’ve been lonely. Are you dead, too? Have you been stuck here as long as us, too?” I asked.

Kai frowned, stepping closer to me. “Why all the questions? Don’t you want to get to know me?”

“Um,” I shifted uncomfortably on my feet, stepping back so there was distance between us.

“Am I making you uncomfortable? Sorry about that. It’s been a while since I’ve had face-to-face type human interaction,” he chuckled, looking down to the ground.

“No, it’s fine. Anyways, are you dead, too?” I repeated one of my burning questions.

“No! I am very much alive. Well, I think so. You can kiss me to find out, though,” he flirted.

I felt the tip of my ears grow warm as his suggestion. “No, thanks.”

“Oh! I’m doing it again. God, sorry. You are just so pretty and i get nervous when I’m around girls. Especially ones like you.”

I chuckled, my grip on the shopping cart tightening. “So, you said you have been lonely. For how long, exact?”

“Long time. I’m not sure. It’s 1994, though,” he explained.

My eyes bulged out of my head. “What?! It’s 1994?”

“Yep. There’s literally newspapers everywhere,” he snorted.

“Well, I haven’t really been observant, I guess. What are we doing in 1994?”

“We’re stuck!” He explained. “Oh, damn,” I muttered.

“Yeah, it sucks, but now you guys are here to keep me company!” He grinned.

I smiled politely at him, getting ready to turn around and go back home. “Right. Well, I gotta go. My friends are expecting me for dinner. Maybe you could uh… You could um, come to dinner?”

His eyes widened in surprise. I kept on my smile, shifting the weight in my feet.

“Really?” He asked.

“Yeah, why not! Um, chilli sound good?” I asked. “Perfect. I’ll bring drinks,” he suggested.

“Sounds great. Well, um, see you later?” I proposed, getting ready to turn around.

“Yep,” he smiled. “Great,” I chuckled, looking down shyly. I began to turn around, but Kai stopped me.

“Why don’t I drive you there? It’d be tedious of you to carry the cart all the way home, right?” Kai asked.

I turned back around, “Um… Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Are you sure, though?”

“Positive.”

My smiled widely, giggling a little. “Well, yeah, I’d really appreciate it.”

“Great. My car’s over here,” He said and pointed to a dark blue Chevy.

“Wow, this is a really cool car,” I said, wheeling the car to it. “Yeah, I know,” he smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets.

I opened up the trunk and loaded the groceries in the car. I then walked over to the passenger seat and got in, buckling and waiting for Kai to get in the driver’s seat. We got to Damon’s place in 10 minutes. I was very thankful I had met him, even though he was a little bit of a weirdo. Kai parked in the entry way and he helped me take in the groceries.

“Hey, Damon! Is Bonnie home yet?” I called out.

“Yeah! I am,” Bonnie came out from the kitchen. Her smile faltered as he saw Kai standing next to me. “Who, uh, who is this?” “Oh!” I giggled. “This is Kai. We met at the supermarket.”

“Oh, really? Hi, Kai,” Damon narrowed his eyes at him.

“Hi, Damon!” Kai said cheerfully. “How the hell do you know my name?” Damon asked.

“Oh, he’s just uh… He’s just been observing us and stuff,” I explained.

“Hm, not creepy at all,” Damon muttered. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Kai. Are you joining us for dinner?” Bonnie asked.

“Yeah, I hope that’s okay,” Kai said. “Yeah! It’s fine, guys, right?” I asked.

“Sure,” Bonnie nodded.

“Great! I brought drinks, too,” he said, holding a bag filled with bourbon and whiskey.

“Great, but we already have some,” Damon said, gesturing to the liquor cabinets.

“Oh,” Kai frowned. “But it’s fine! We’ll drink your’s,” I said.

“Great,” Kai perked up again. “Let’s get dinner started, yeah?” I suggested, walking over to the kitchen.

Everyone nodded in agreement and helped with dinner. Kai mostly helped. Damon got bored in the middle and went to his room to do God know’s what, while Bonnie went to sit on the couch and watch 90′s classics.

“Thanks for helping with dinner,” I said. “No problem. You are an amazing cook,” Kai complimented.

“You haven’t even tasted the food,” I chuckled.

“Well, you seem to know the recipe and whatnot. And it smells amazing.”

“Well, thank you,” I smiled, turning and looked at him.

My eyes met his and a wave of butterflies washed over me. I looked into his mysterious blue eyes, getting lost in them quickly.

“Is dinner done yet?” Damon asked, interrupting the moment.

I jumped away from Kai in an instant, hanging my head low in embarrassment.

“Yeah,” I muttered, walking away and getting bowls out. I poured the chilli in each bowl, bringing them to the table with a glasses of Kai’s alcohol.

“Dig in.” I sprinkled cheese over my chilli.

“Let me take a sip of this bourbon first,” Damon said, holding the glass up skeptically. He brought the glass up to his lips, taking a slow and small sip. As soon as the bourbon touched his lips, he dropped the glass on the floor and his hand flew to his throat.

“Oh, my God. Damon, are you okay?” I jumped up from my seat, running over to him.

“V-Vervain,” Damon gasped. “Vervain… What?” I gulped, my eyes immediately meeting with Kai’s.

“You!” I pointed. “Oops,” Kai chuckled, getting out of his seat.

“Not so fast,” Bonnie said, grabbing his arm to sit him back down. Kai grabbed her arm, too. Bonnie started screaming and holding his hand in pain.

“What? What are you doing to her!” I exclaimed, going over to them.

“Taking her magic,” Kai shrugged. “What! B-But… How?” I asked.

“She’s a witch, so am I. Well, not exactly. I’m more of what you say… a siphon,” he explained as if I was supposed to know.

“Well, whatever are you, get off of her!” I yelled, taking ahold of his jacket and pulling him away. I stumbled back, still holding onto him.

“I wasn’t done yet!” Kai whined.

“I don’t care! You were hurting her,” I glared at him, shoving him out of the way and going to Bonnie.

“Hey, did he burn you? Let’s get your arm under some water,” I said, grabbing her shoulder gently.

“No, I’m not burned. It just hurt like hell. Ugh! Why did you do that?!” Bonnie exclaimed angrily at Kai.

“Because I needed the power to do this,” Kai said, holding up his hand. He made the bottle of bourbon float up and poured it all over Damon.

“Stop!” I shrieked, running over to shove his arm down, but he sent me flying across the room with his other hand.

“Sorry, princess, but I can’t let you ruin this,” Kai said.

I groaned, holding the back of my head. “Screw you.”

“Oh, I wish you could,” Kai winked at you.

I gagged in disgust and got up slowly, groaning at the paining my back. “Not anymore.” Kai chuckled will finishing pouring the bottle of bourbon on Damon, then lifting him up and throwing him against the wall.

“B-Bonnie. D-Do mag-gic,” Damon whimpered. “Yeah, please do,” I nodded, balancing myself on the island counter.

“Yeah, please do, Bonnie. Please humiliate yourself in front of your friends. It’s so sad that you can’t do magic. I’ve been watching you for weeks now. What’s even the point of you trying? What’re you gonna do, fail at me? It’s embarrassing. I’m embarrassed for you,” Kai taunted her.

Bonnie gave him a death glare and looked around the room, spotting a few candles. She closed her eyes and held up her hand. “Phasmatos Incendia.”

I watched in amazement as the candles lit. Bonnie then turned to Kai, who had a shocked look on his face. She grinned at him, cocking her head to the side.

“I’m embarrassed for you,” she mocked him.

“Dammit,” Kai muttered. “Looks like I have to kill you now. I was planning on for that to be later.” “Oh, no you don’t,” Damon remarked, getting up slowly. He then sped over to Kai and before Kai could react, Bonnie held Kai’s arms back while Damon punched Kai.

“You’re going down, wacko,” Damon muttered, taking Kai’s head in his hands and slamming him down on the floor, knocking Kai out.

“Are you okay, Damon?” I asked immediately. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get him chained up,” Damon said.

“Yeah, okay,” I nodded, going over and lifting Kai up form under his arms.

“Good job, Bon-Bon. About time,” Damon patted Bonnie on the back.

“Thanks,” Bonnie gave him a small smile.

Bonnie helped me chain up Kai to a chair, Damon going on the couch to heal and rest.

“I can’t believe you liked him,” Damon spoke up after a while.

“I didn’t,” I protested. “You sure? You were drooling all over him when he first came into the house. You're type is crazy,” Damon smirked.

I rolled my eyes, wanting to change the subject. “I think the whiskey he brought also has vervain in it.”

“He’s right, Y/n. You have horrible taste in guys,” Bonnie teased.

I scoffed. “Un-called for! Damon’s supposed to be the rude one.”

“It’s not being rude if I’m telling the truth,” Bonnie smirked. “Yeah, well, I guess I liked him. Not anymore, though,” I sighed, sitting down on the couch next to Damon.

“Good. We would definitely have had to take you to therapy,” Damon smirked.

I laughed with him, letting out a long sigh. “I just still can’t believe there is someone here with us.” “Yeah, and he’s a psycho,” Damon spat.

“What're we gonna do with him when he wakes up?” I asked.

“Interrogate him. See what he knows, what he wants, how to get out of here,” Damon answered.

“Well, I know a little bit about what he knows,” I said. “We’re in 1994.”

“Yeah, I know,” Damon muttered. “What, how?” I asked.

“While you were gone we found a newspaper. Apparently, we have been re-living May 10th since we got here,” Bonnie said sourly.

“Oh. Great,” I shook my head. “Anything else you guys found out?”

“Yes, actually. Kai is a murderer,” Bonnie said. She grabbed a newspaper from the coffee table and held it up to my face. She pointed to the left side where there were four headshots of teenagers.

“Family Massacred in Portland. The only one missing was the oldest boy. A 22 year-old named Malachai,” I read aloud. I then looked up to Kai who was still knocked out. “I-Is he Malachai?”

“All signs point to yes,” Damon said. “My God. I liked a murderer? Jesus, what is wrong with me?” I muttered, setting the newspaper down.

“Really? Your type in men is what you’re worried about?” Damon scoffed.

I smiled a little. “No, no! It’s just… Weird to me. Anyways, if he knows the way out, we have to get out without him, okay?”

“Deal,” Bonnie nodded.

“Do you guys want to go to bed?” I asked. “Well, someone has to stay and watch,” Damon gestured to Kai.

“Why don’t you. You’re the immortal,” I nudged his shoulder.

“Fine. I’ll alert you guys when he wakes up,” Damon said.

“Great. Thanks, Damon,” Bonnie smiled. “Mhm. No prob!” Damon exclaimed as Bonnie and I climbed up the stairs.

“He is kinda cute,” Bonnie said once we reached one the guest bedroom.

“Who? Damon?” I asked. “No, Kai,” Bonnie explained.

I raised my brows, my mouth formed in the shape of an ‘O’.

“What?” Bonnie asked. “I cannot believe you just said that about our enemy. You’re never this two-faced,” I smirked.

Bonnie rolled her eyes, “Yeah, well, he’s still a sociopath.”

“True that. Hey, wanna have a sleepover? Maybe have some fun,” I suggested.

“Yes! Oh, I wish that Care and Elena were here,” Bonnie sighed.

“Me, too, Bon. We’ll get to see them soon, though.” I put a hand on her shoulder.

“I hope,” Bonnie smiled. I smiled back and went to the closet, finding a pair of sweats and a tank top. Bonnie and I got ready for bed, staying up for a good hour talking, finally passing out across the bed.

I was the first one to wake up. I rose up slowly and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. Once I opened them fully, I looked around the room with complete confusion. Once I looked at the clock, though, I finally realised that I was in a repeating loop of May 10th, 1994. You’d think waking up for months in this place, I would get used to it, but I really never have. Not yet, at least.

“Disappointing, right?” Bonnie spoke next to me. I turned, chuckling in agreement. “Most definitely.”

“At least we got a full night’s sleep. It’s 10 AM,” Bonnie said. “True,” I nodded, getting up and stretching.

“Let’s go and see the sociopath living downstairs,” I groaned.

“I’ll need coffee before I see him,” Bonnie said, getting up and putting on a robe.

“Oh, me, too,” I chuckled.

We both went downstairs after freshening up, going to the kitchen immediately.

“Um, hello? Did you forget about us?” Damon asked form the living room.

“Yep,” Bonnie smiled at him. Damon rolled his eyes, going over to us.

“Hurry up, sleeping beauties. Malachai is awake,” Damon said, his eyes going wide as he said Kai’s full name.

“Please, it’s Kai,” Kai said. “Hm, nope. I read Malachai in the newspaper,” Damon gave Kai his signature sarcastic smile.

Bonnie and I laughed at Damon defying Kai. I poured myself some coffee and made myself some eggs and toast before going over to Damon.

“Alright, I am ready to get this interrogation on,” I smiled, sitting down on the couch.

“Me, too,” Bonnie said, sitting next to me.

“Wow, you look beautiful when just waking up,” Kai complimented.

“Drop the act, weirdo,” I rolled my eyes.

“I was actually talking to the green-eyed beauty next to you,” Kai grinned.

I couldn’t help but frown. My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach and I looked down at my food, picking up the toast and nibbling on the crust.

“You can still drop the act. We want answers,” Bonnie demanded.

“Ooh, you are so sexy while dominant,” Kai winked. “And you are so gross and desperate,” Bonnie stated.

“If you don’t give us answers, I’ll snap your neck,” Damon threatened.

I looked up and saw Kai pursing his lips.

“It’s so funny,” Kai stated. “What is?” Damon asked.

“Well, you three seem to hate me, yet you haven’t killed me yet,” Kai explained.

“Because we need information from you, and you are withholding for no reason,” Bonnie explained further.

“Fine. But I want Y/n to ask the questions,” Kai said, his blue eyes landing on me.

I glared at him right away. “Why me? You seem pretty infatuated with Bonnie.”

“Jealousy is not a good look on you, princess,” he spoke playfully.

I had to fight the butterflies that were swarming in my stomach. “And being annoying is not a good way for us to not kill you.”

Kai laughed, “Fair. So, what do you guys want to know?”

“Why are we here? Is this my personal hell?” Damon asked quickly.

I furrowed my brows and looked up at him. “Why do you think this is your personal hell?”

“Well, first of all my car is parked in the entry way. Yeah, I noticed that. And second… There was something bad I did during May 10th, 1994,” Damon sighed.

“Damon… What did you do?” Bonnie’s voice wavered. “Yeah, Damon, what did you do?” Kai pressed on.

“You,” Damon pointed to Kai. “Shut it. And… You guys would hate me if I told you. Like, hate me for real.”

“Oh, I bet it’s not too bad,” I smiled comfortingly.

“Nope, it’s bad,” Damon sighed. “Well, then tell us,” Bonnie pushed.

Damon sighed, walking from the back of the couch to the armchair. He slumped down. “I… I killed a pregnant woman.”

The plate that was once in my hand clattered to the ground.

“You what!?” Bonnie exclaimed.

“Not one of my best moments,” Damon sighed.

“W-Why?” I stuttered, racking my brain for any type of logical explanation.

“Cause I was mad at Stefan,” Damon shrugged. “And that justifies the fact that you killed a pregnant woman?” Bonnie shouted.

“Yeah, yeah, I know! I’m a horrible person, okay?” Damon exclaimed, shooting up from his seat.

“You’re worse than I thought. How can Elena love you!” Bonnie scoffed.

I stood up in-between them. “Okay, not the time, guys. We need to ask Kai questions.”

“And before you do that, I need you guys to get a few things for me,” Kai said.

I groaned, “What now?”

“Well, I need to make a list, and I can’t if I’m all tied up.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine.” I went over to him, untying the rope. I then got a paper and pencil and handed them to him.

“Thank you, honey,” Kai gave me an eye-blinding grin.

“Yeah, whatever,” I muttered, going to the kitchen to get a dustpan to sweep up the broken pieces of the plate.

“Alright!” Kai announced after a few moments. “All done.” “Great. I’ll go out,” I said, going over and taking the paper out of his hand. Kai reached out to stop me, though.

“Nope. I want you to stay,” Kai said. “Why?” I asked.

“Because you’re so cute,” he complimented. “Shut up. I will kill you,” I sneered, jerking my arm out of his grasp.

“I’ll go. I don’t want to be around Damon,” Bonnie snarled, snatching the piece of paper.

“Bon, c’mon,” Damon said helplessly, following her to the door.

They both went out of the house. I could hear Bonnie shouting from the outside.

“Finally alone together,” Kai said.

“Yeah, no. I’m going upstairs,” I said, turning on my heels.

“If you stay I'll tell you everything,” Kai said.

I stopped in my track, turning back to him slowly. “Really?”

He nodded. “I promise.”

“Fine,” I sighed, sitting back down on the couch. Kai got up and walked over. He sat down right next to me.

I huffed and got up, sitting in the armchair.

“Fine, I’ll talk to you this way, I guess. So, what do you want to know?” Kai asked.

“Why did you kill your family?” I asked. “Well, I was born into a coven of witches. The Gemini coven, to be exact. I was the black sheep of my family. The one whose magical ability was sucking the power out of people. My family hated me. My father hated me. He never showed me love or tried to understand me,” he explained.

“And that’s why you killed your whole family? Because you never got love?” I asked.

“Yep. Basically,” he shrugged. “Not a good enough reason,” I shook my head.

“Well, what were you expecting?”

I sighed, “I don’t know.”

“Precisely. Anyways, that’s why this is my personal hell. Not Damon’s.”

“How do we get out of here?” I asked.

“Well, there’s this thing called an ascendent. That will take us home,” he explained.

“Okay, what is it?” I asked.

“A mystical relic that was created by my family. It can harnesses the power of a celestial event and creates a portal, to which we can all then go home.”

“And where is the ascendent?” I asked. “I have no idea,” Kai smiled.

“Ugh! Seriously? How are we going to get out of here now?” “Well, the stuff I asked Bonnie to get will help us. Don’t worry,” he shrugged.

“Okay, well, I’m going to go and get ready for the day,” I said, standing up.

“And you’re going to leave me here alone? What if I kill you in the shower?” Kai asked.

“Well, I need a shower. So, if you do, at least I’ll be released from this world,” I smiled sweetly, walking off.

I heard him chuckle behind me. I sighed quietly and climbed up the stairs. I could not wait to get out of there.

I came back downstairs after 30 minutes. I first looked in the living room, seeing Bonnie and Damon with Kai.

“Took you long enough,” Damon said.

I rolled my eyes, “I assume Kai filled you in?” “Yep. I have to do a spell now to find the ascendent,” Bonnie nodded.

“And we’re gonna do that with Kai having jam on his fingers?” I asked, pointing to Kai was scooping out jam with his hands.

“Well, I’m not gonna do the spell. Bonnie will. I’ll just guide her,” Kai explained.

I hummed in reply and nodded. “Alright, well, let’s get started then.”

Bonnie and Kai went to the dining room table to work. Spreading out a big map and putting some of Kai’s blood on the paper to do a locator spell.

We watched as she tried a few times before she realised the blood wasn’t moving.

“It doesn’t feel right,” she sighed. “Maybe I need bigger map.”

“Maybe you’re just out of practice, and you suck at magic now,” Damon said.

“Ignore him, Bonnie. Pretend he’s a white noise machine,” Kai said. “That’s how I used to tune out my siblings.”

“How many siblings?” I asked casually.

“Seven,” Kai answered. “You know, all of them constantly yammering. But it, uh, taught me how to focus.” He went by Bonnie, looking her in the eye, his gaze traveling down to her lips.

A pang of jealously hit my heart. I looked down at the ground, not wanting to see them kiss, if they did.

“Easy there, big brother,” Damon remarked. “She doesn’t know you. At least buy her a drink.”

Bonnie and Kai chuckled, looking at each other. I groaned quietly, going to the kitchen to get myself a drink.

“Hey! Where are you going, princess?” Kai called.

“Somewhere where you’re not,” I grumbled.

I got out a bottle of scotch, taking a swig from the bottle.

“Woah, easy there, princess,” Damon mocked the nickname Kai had given me.

I glared at him. “Do not call me that.”

“What, I can’t, but Kai can? Sounds like someone still has a crush,” Damon sang.

“I do not!”

“You sure you don’t like him? Cause I think you two would make a great fit. He’s crazy and well, you seem to like crazy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, like you and Elena are a great fit, right? You being the one who keeps breaking up with her and all.”

I then walked past Damon and back into the living room, earning a glare from him.

“The blood’s moving towards Virginia. Can’t be right,” Kai said.

“Mm-mm. Spell’s working. It’s showing me Mystic Falls. It feels so… close,” Bonnie said, putting her hand on Kai’s jacket, candles lighting up.

“It right here,” Bonnie said, pressing her hand into his chest.

Kai took out the ascendent from his jacket pocket, an expression of shock on his face. “Very good.”

“That’s the ascendent?” I asked. “The one and only,” Kai smiled.

“Thanks for the mind games, jackass,” Damon said.

“It was just another little test. To make sure Bonnie’s magic was precise enough for the spell,” Kai explained. “I do believe we’re ready. Pack your bags, we’re going home.”

Kai then walked out of the house and to the front yard, stopping every few moments.

“You’re wandering around like a crazy man, why?” Damon asked.

“I’m looking for the exact right spot,” Kai answered, holding the ascendent up to the sky. “We need to find where the power of the eclipse is focused.”

“You know, you could have just showed us the ascendant to begin with,” Bonnie said.

“Yeah, but I wanted to feel your hand on my chest,” Kai smirked.

A frown rested upon my lips and I looked down at the ground.

“He is so annoying,” Bonnie muttered.

“You’re just not used to guys hitting on you,” Damon said. “You know, I can’t wait to get out of here,” Bonnie glared.

She then went next to me. I held my head back up, but not looking at her.

“Hey, how you holding up?” She asked. “Oh, fine,” I shrugged. “I’m getting kind of bored, though.”

“Yeah, I feel you… Hey,” Bonnie said, putting her hand on my arm. I turned to her, “Yeah?”

“Kai is a sociopath. He’s just flirting with us to get a rise out of each other. I know you don’t like him anymore, but that attraction you felt to him is probably still there. Let’s not let him tear us apart, okay? We’re stronger than some guy,” she smiled.

I smiled with her, perking up. “Yeah. You’re right. Sorry, just between him calling me pet names and the fact that Damon is always so pissy, it’s hard to be optimistic.”

“Well, I can do magic again now, so there’s one reason!” “Very true. Good job, by the way,” I complimented. “Why, thank you,” Bonnie chuckled.

We followed Kai and Damon, beginning to talk about our plans for when we got home. I looked down at the ground as she talked about her plans with Jeremy. I kicked around a rock, a pair of shoes appearing in front of me. It was Kai. Before my body could stop, I knocked into him.

His hands supported my waist, holding me up. My eyes met his and for a split second, I could see the human in him. I pushed him away though, scoffing in the process.

“A little warning next time?”

Kai just smiled down at me, then looking up to the sky. “The eclipse will happen directly overhead. In perfect alignment with the Gemini constellation. You need to dig under the tunnels below us. We’ll do the spell here,” Kai said

“Wait, why do we have to dig?” Damon asked.

“Have you never portal-jumped through an eclipse before? Okay, look, the light of the eclipse will shine down and activate the ascendant. You spout a little witchy woo and then, poof! Anyone standing in the circle of light holding the ascendant goes home,” Kai explained.

“Let me see the spell,” Bonnie said. “When the time comes,” Kai smiled.

He then walked past us three.

“Where are you going?” I asked. “Into town. I need to gather some important supplies,” Kai explained.

“Y/n, why don’t you watch over him to make sure he isn’t planning to kill us,” Damon said.

“What! No!” I protested. “You really want to be stuck with us? Digging a hole?” Bonnie asked.

“Not really,” I sighed. “Fine, I’ll go. See you guys later.”

“Have fun,” Bonnie smiled. “Oh, you know I will,” I smiled sourly as I followed Kai’s path.

I jogged to catch up with him. “Hey, Kai! Wait up.”

Kai stopped in his tracks, turning in surprise. “Stalking me?”

“Nope. More like babysitting.”

“Hm. Well, I’m older than you, so technically I would be doing the babysitting,” Kai said.

“Yeah, like you have any parental instincts. So, where into town are we going?”

“I thought you hated talking to me,” Kai said. “Just answer the damn question,” I glared.

“I’m picking up some personal belongings,” Kai explained.

“Why?” You asked. “Because 1994 has been my home for most of my life. I don’t want to get homesick when I go into the 21st century,” Kai answered.

“Hm, I see. Well, a lot has changed in the last 18 years,” I said.

“So I can see. They obviously didn’t make girls as pretty as Bonnie back then,” Kai smirked.

My lips pulled down into another frown. Him complimenting Bonnie was like a stake to the heart. I didn’t know why, but it bothered me a little too much to hear him talk about other girls. It was even worse considering that the girl he was talking about was my best friend.

“Hey, don’t be so sad. You’re pretty, too,” Kai nudged my shoulder.

“Wow, thanks,” I rolled your eyes.

“I’m serious! You’re more pretty than Bonnie!” Kai said. “Just want I wanted. You dragging my friend down so I can be complimented,” I hummed.

Kai rolled his eyes. “Women are so difficult. Look, I meant that you’re really pretty. Bonnie is, too. Just accept the fact I think you’re pretty!”

My face warmed up quickly and I hung my head low. “T-Thanks.”

“Let me guess, not a lot of guys compliment you?”

“They do, but doesn’t mean I don’t get flustered.”

“You seem pretty outgoing to me,” Kai said.

“Well, that’s probably because I hate you. I’m shy to guys I like,” I explained, putting my head back up.

“Hm… Or you just think that. You know, girls can be mean when they like a guy.”

“Yeah, in elementary school. Look, I’m not 8 anymore. I know the difference between love and hate and trust me, my feelings for you stand on the hate side.”

“Keep saying that, princess,” Kai remarked. “And stop calling me princess! God, it’s so annoying,” I groaned.

“C’mon, I know you like it, princess,” Kai teased, poking at my arm.

I swatted his hand away. “For someone who is a sociopath, you sure like to flirt a lot.”

“I am not a sociopath,” Kai said. “You sure are,” I chuckled.

“I’m not. I was just treated like the biggest embarrassment and disappointment of my family, and I’ve been stuck here for 18 years. It’s not fun going through what I did,” Kai argued.

I softened up a little. “Right, yeah. So, how long do we have to walk for?”

“Not very long,” Kai said.

We walked in a weirdly comfortable silence for 10 more minutes before arriving at a house.

“This your place I assume?” I asked.

“Yep. Not the place I grew up in, though,” he said, walking up. “Because you were born in Oregon?” I guessed.

“Yep. Wow, you pay attention to what I say. So sweet.” I huffed, “Just hurry up.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I waited for him outside the house, beginning to play with the locket around my neck. I took it off, opening it and smiling nostalgically.

“I miss you guys. I wish you were here,” I said to the pictures, running my fingertips on them.

“Are you talking to yourself?” Kai’s voice sounded out of nowhere.

I jumped, immediately shutting the locket. “No. Are you finished?”

“Yep,” he nodded.

“Good, let’s hurry back.”

“Who were you talking to?” He asked as we started our journey back to Bonnie and Damon.

“Nobody,” I answered. “So you were talking to yourself?” Kai pressed.

“Yeah,” I admitted. “Why?” He asked.

“It’s none of your business,” I said quickly. I hoped he got the hint that this was something that I would never share.

“Oh, please? You know, like, everything about me!”

I groaned, “No, Kai! Stop it.”

His eyebrows raised, his lips curling up into a smile. “Alright, Miss Fussy.”

I went in front of him, walking fast. We finally got back to the big hole that was now in the middle of the forrest.

“Now will you show us the spell?” Bonnie asked, panting.

“Not yet,” Kai said. “Why? We’ve done everything you want. Just get us out of here,” Damon said.

“I just… I can’t. Not yet,” Kai shrugged.

I scoffed, “Now is not the time to be a dick.”

“Wait,” Bonnie said, staring hard at Kai. “He doesn’t know the spell. Which means we don’t need him. Motus.”

Suddenly the pickaxe that Damon had flew up and plunged Kai in the heart, missing my arm by a centimeter.

“Bonnie!” I shrieked.

“What? You never liked him anyways,” Bonnie shrugged. “I have my grimoire right here, I’ll find the spell.” Bonnie pulled out the spell book from her backpack.

“Yeah, and how long is that gonna take?” Damon asked. “Not long if you two let me concentrate,” Bonnie said.

Damon groaned and walked over to me. “She seems way too calm.”

“She’s not one to freak out like you or Caroline. I’m a little mad at her, too, but I know she’s got this,” I shrugged, taking a seat on the dirt.

“Find the spell yet, Bon-Bon?” Damon asked, leaning against a tree.

“It’s been 2 minutes,” I swatted Damon’s leg. “No, but I think the Gemini coven used a Bennett spell to create this place. That's why my grams sent me here,” Bonnie explained.

I smiled at her, “Great thinking!”

Bonnie thanked me with a nod, holding the ascendent up in her hands and muttering an incantation. My jaw dropped as I saw the ascendent move outwards.

“And this is why Kai never killed me. He needed a Bennett,” Bonnie smiled triumphantly.

“See, I told you she knew what she was doing,” I smiled up at Damon.

“Yeah, well, I did, too. I was just giving her a hard time,” Damon shrugged.

Bonnie chuckled. “You guys ready to go home?”

“Hell yeah!” I exclaimed and jumped up.

We all jumped down the hole that Bonnie and Damon dug up, landing in a cave. Bonnie wasted no time dropping her blood onto the ascendant. She muttered the spell, the ascendent winding out further.

“Ready, guys?” Bonnie asked.

I nodded, walking up to her and putting my hand under her’s. Damon put his hand under mine.

“Let’s go home,” I smiled, tears threatening to fall out of my eyes.

As Bonnie was about to say the spell, an arrow struck just right under my heart and sent me flying. Another arrow also hit Bonnie. I hit a pile of rocks, my head turning to whoever hit me. It was Kai.

“Forgetting someone?” He asked. “Did you really think I haven’t tried to kill myself before? Because I have.” He loaded up the crossbow again.

Damon made a move for the ascendent that was now on the floor.

“Grab that or the next arrow will be in their hearts. Your choice.” Kai threatened.

Damon sighed and sped over to Bonnie, pulling the arrow out from her body. She screamed in pain, my eyes widening as I watched Kai take the ascendent.

“Damon!” I exclaimed as Damon as about to feed us his blood.

Damon fed Bonnie his blood quickly and ran up to Kai, knocking the ascendent out of his hand. My eyes fell to the ascendent as it was close enough for me to try and grab. I tried to reach, but Bonnie was a few steps ahead of me. She then bent down to me, ripping the arrow out of my side. I screamed in pain, tears streaming down my face.

“We’re gonna get you out of here, okay? Just put pressure on this,” Bonnie said, grabbing her jacket around my wound.

I shook my head, smiling sadly. “No, I-I won’t make it. You and Damon go. You guys have too much to live for. Me? I have no family there, and we all know Caroline and Elena miss you more.”

“That is so not true,” Bonnie said. “When you were gone at camp for those 3 summers, all Care and Elena could take about was how much they’ve missed you. And I know for a fact that Tyler, Matt, and especially Stefan miss you, too. We are getting you out of here.”

“We are, Y/n. Otherwise Elena would kill me,” Damon groaned from behind me. “I would rather be killed by my hot, vampire girlfriend instead of this psycho. A little help Bonnie?”

Bonnie nodded, muttering a spell that sent Kai flying back. Damon then came over and lifted me up, carrying me over to Bonnie. We stood under the light and I looked up, smiling happily.

“I’m getting out of here,” I sighed.

“Not on my watch!” Kai exclaimed. As soon as we started to float up, Kai ran over to Damon and knocked me out of his arms.

“No!” I screamed.

“Y/n!” Bonnie exclaimed as she shot up in the portal.

I watched with hot, burning tears as Bonnie and Damon disappeared. I sobbed in pain and sadness, looking at Kai with a watery gaze.

“Why?!” I screamed.

“Because like you said, you don’t have any family there. Me neither, so there’s no reason for you to get back to your home,” Kai explained with a shit-eating grin.

“Screw you,” I muttered distantly. I felt my eyes begin to droop. My breathing was so shallow, I could barely feel my heartbeat. I looked up to the light that was shining down. Where my friends once were.

“Sleep well, princess. I’ll see you soon.” Was the last thing I heard before I lost all consciousness.

————

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rahleeyah · 3 years

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Hi! I want to tell you I am in awe of your writing. It’s powerful and moving and so true to characters. I’m always curious…what is your writing “process?” If you don’t mind me asking!

Oh this is a great question!!! We haven't had a writing question in a while.

My process is not something I usually think about; when I first saw this question I was about to say something like mostly what I do is I just sit very still and let the words come out. And that's true but not fair; that's only one piece of the puzzle.

The first piece is routine. I write at the same time every day. Weekdays it's first thing when I come home from work, weekends it's first thing when I wake up. Always the same time, always sitting in the same place - on my porch, away from distractions, with fresh air and a glass of water and some smokes. That last part is not recommended.

It is hard to write if I miss a few days. One day is fine, but if I go more than 2-3 (which I don't think I've done since Christmas) I'll be out of step and it'll take a while to get back in the groove. So that's the practical part, is I've got a time and space set aside to write and that makes it easier.

The next piece I guess is where the ideas come from. I rewatch a lot. I find watching helps me keep the character voices, but it also helps me make new connections or find new moments to explore. I'll post thoughts here or share them with friends and the back and forth helps flesh things a lot. Most of the time an idea for a story is like a lightning strike; it feels as if it's come out of nowhere. But it isn't completely organic; I spend a lot of time thinking about ideas. In the shower, in the car, before bed, in snippets on tumblr. You have to cultivate the idea generating part of your brain. Sometimes I'll play with a story in my head for weeks and it won't go anywhere; sometimes the whole thing just appears fully formed in my brain like Jesus air dropped it to me. But you gotta be open to the spirit before the spirit can move you, you know?

So we have a place to write and we have an idea, how do we make a story?

A story is like a road. It is going from point A to point B and we gotta lay the pavers to get there. A story like hov is easy; it's set in canon so there's episodes to draw from, and there's a clear linear progression from not pregnant to pregnant to baby. There's a time frame and there's built in milestones. Something like let's take long way down, madam Jean, for example, is gonna be totally different, bc it isn't set in canon and there is no roadmap to get from strangers to happily ever after.

A lot of the time I don't look at the big picture bc it's overwhelming. It feels insurmountable, if I think about how many chapters it'll take and how much time it'll take. I'm eating this elephant one bite at a time, just like my mama said. So we write the first scene. The first paver that goes down is the Problem.

Not to be all freshman English class but every story is centered on conflict. Those conflicts can be anything; it doesn't have to be a "fight", an actual literally good guy vs bad guy. It just has to be an issue. Liv is pregnant but Elliot is her partner and they're not supposed to sleep together. Lucien works for the police but he's intrigued by the local madam. Eli doesn't know who Liv is and he's worried about his dad. Bernie Stabler shows up unannounced. All of these are Problems.

Once we have a Problem, we can start working on the Solution. We do this one step at a time. We do not rush.

So every day, I read over the last chapter I wrote. Where are we, what's happened, what are the Conflicts, what is the next logical step? How do we address it in one scene?

Lucien saw the madam, and she asked him to look after a pregnant girl. Ok now he has to go back to the brothel in the next chapter. That moves the timeline forward and moves us closer to the end goal, bc while Lucien is looking after the girl he talks to Jean, and we plant the seeds of them falling in love. It also gives us one piece of action to work on, one moment in time to write. I sit down, I write Lucien going to the brothel, I write him examining the girl and talking to Jean, boom there's one scene we're done. We tie those two things together; logical progression of Plot events, and the emotional undercurrent. I like it best when a chapter has both.

Themes come out naturally most of the time. Matrilineal, for example, was just me sitting down to write about Bernie and I used Amanda bc I love an outside pov. But as I was writing I'm thinking you know, Amanda has a complicated relationship with her mom. Shit, so does Liv. And they're both mothers now. And so is Bernie. And the emotional threads come out naturally as a result of who these people are. The piece wasn't gonna be about mothers but then it became obvious that it had to be.

Motifs appear the same way. The first chapter of bury my heart, I used this is love. That wasn't originally intentional, but when I did it the second time I thought there it is, and kept using it, and that's where the gut punch of the final line comes from; the meaning has changed from joy to sorrow and it is only impactful bc of the repetition and our previous connection to it.

I use a lot of imagery, and a lot of it tends to be religious - Jean is very Catholic, and so is Elliot, so for both Blake and svu there's room to play with it there. I like similes, I like metaphors, I like synecdoche - there's a fun one. I like to play with putting words together in different ways but that stuff doesn't happen in the car, or the shower, or on my lunch break; that usually only happens when I'm writing. I have to sit down and be still and let my brain go.

Conflict, themes, motifs, images, characters, these are the ingredients that make a story. And the more you work with them the easier they come. It just takes practice. But one of the best ways to improve is to read. See what's possible. See how other people have put words together. Someone commented once about how sometimes I say a lot with very few words; that is something I picked up from two very different places. Stephen King is great about short, simple, powerful sentences that knock your socks off. And there's a recurring line in my favorite series, the Belgariad, where when things are bad the man character goes to his aunt, who has raised him since he was a baby and is essentially his mother, and she holds him, and everything was all right again. It is a simple, repeated phrase about love, and comfort, and how no matter how terrifying the world can be, love brings healing and hope. There are quotes scattered throughout my work. Olivia quotes Heraclitus to herself in bury my heart; yes I am a classics major but my connection to that quote comes from the film the emperor's club. Inspiration is everywhere; draw on all of it.

This is. Probably more information than you were looking for but once I got started I couldn't stop.

#anonymous

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yoonjinkooked · 4 years

Text

Kitchen Confidential | Jin | FINAL

Pairing: Seokjin / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Enemies to lovers, chef AU

Warnings: explicit sex, cursing, no longer a slow burn ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), unprotected sex (don’t do that), traces of a biting kink, oral (f receiving), short handjob, feelings. A LOT of mentions of food, so you’ll most likely be very hungry for both food and Kim Seokjin.

Word Count: 9k+, previous chapters total to 16k

Summary: After years of annoying the life out of you, your rival, Kim Seokjin, pushes you a step too far and he knows it. As angry and resentful as you are, you don’t realize that something has been brewing under the surface for years. This weekend, that will change.

Read previous parts here: 1 / 2 / 3

SPINOFF ANNOUNCEMENT: COMING SOON, JUNGKOOK’S STORY IN THE SAME UNIVERSE AS KITCHEN CONFIDENTIAL

A/N: And it’s done! This one took a while but I’m proud of myself for finishing this fic. I’m more responsible with my writing each day, and that includes actually finishing the stories I start. I have a few ongoing ones and a few wips that I am yet to post but Jungkook’s spinoff will come soon. If all goes according to plan, I will have about...20ish fics in 2021? So, let’s hope all DOES go according to plan. Thank you for following through with this story. Let me know what you think!

Yesterday was something else entirely.

You may or may not have called Jungkook more than ten times. Of course, you had complete faith in him and deep down, you knew he was more than capable of running the kitchen without you but it didn’t hurt to check, did it? So you did. Ten times, before he threatened to block your number, which then had you dialing Namjoon. You had reassured him that your leg is perfectly fine and that you are perfectly capable of standing through service for one night. He insisted that you should rest and that they have everything under control. Which you believed, you really did but you still wanted to check. You’ve stopped calling when he threatened to fire you.

Today was a different story. With no news of a fire breaking out in Bonsai’s kitchen, you were noticeably more relaxed, ready to spend the entire day with your leg propped on a pillow, a tube of ice cream in your hands while rewatching the first season of The Office. All was going according to plan by the time the doorbell rang.

Looking at the clock, you see that it is only 7PM - Bonsai was still open, probably ready for dinner rush hour. It couldn’t be Jungkook and he is quite literally the only person who drops by unannounced whenever he pleases. Did you order food and had a memory blank? You were going to order the house specialty from that new fancy Italian place at the other side of town, just to keep an eye on competition. But did you actually order it? Or are you going crazy?

The doorbell rings again and begrudgingly, you start getting up. “Coming!” you yell, grabbing your wallet as you go, wondering if you even have enough spare change for a tip. No longer wobbling, you simply walk slowly and unlock the door, your jaw dropping when you open it.

On the other side of the door, with a goofy smile on his face and his hands full of paper shopping bags is no one other than Kim Seokjin himself.

“Hi,” he offers a greeting and you could swear you see nerves hiding behind the smile - sure enough, when you stay silent for a second too long, still too confused to speak, you see the tip of his ears turning red. That always used to happen whenever one of the teachers at culinary school was about to taste his dish in front of the entire class. And you probably shouldn’t be aware of that.

“Um… to what do I owe the pleasure?” you ask, once you can finally speak.

“I took a day off,” he announces, as if that is the only explanation you need. “I figured since you’re still officially on sick leave and your leg must hurt, you probably don’t want to cook,” he trails off, his ears now becoming redder. “I guess I just wanted to do something nice.”

“You want to make me dinner?” you check if you heard him correctly. This entire situation seems like a figment of your imagination, a very bizarre one at that. And you don’t even want to know how he knew where you live - that can of worms is not going to be opened.

“Yeah,” he nods proudly. “I mean, I’ll eat too, if you let me,” he jokes and when you stay silent, the smile slowly melts from his face. Realizing that you are leaving him hanging, you step aside to let him in.

“Come on in, the kitchen is the second door on the right,” you inform him and watch, still in a state of shock, as he takes off his shoes in the hallway before making his way down the hallway. That’s when you finally snap out of it, realizing that you won’t have enough time to process this as it’s happening. “What are we making?” you ask as you follow him into the kitchen.

“We are not making anything,” he emphasised as he sets the bags down on the kitchen island, before turning to face you with a stern expression, which instantly makes you feel like a scolded child. “I will be doing all the work as you sit back, relax and have a glass of wine. Unless you’re taking meds for your leg? I didn’t think of that,” he mumbles softly, frowning at the ground.

“No meds,” you inform him. His solemn expression turns bright so fast, you think you might be experiencing whiplash. What the fuck is going on here?! “What are you making?”

“I was wondering what would make an enjoyable, hearty meal that could speed up your recovery process,” he starts explaining. You want to tell him that a leg injury can’t be cured with food but you bite your tongue, not wanting to appear hostile, especially not when he’s in the middle of his grand gesture. You watch as he starts taking the ingredients out of the shopper bags - not one, but two bottles of Pinot Noir, the expensive kind too, followed by mushrooms, a whole bunch of veggies and one gigantic chunk of meat. It’s wrapped, but judging by his choice of wine, it has to be beef.

“You’re making beef stew?” you guess, surprised but not disappointed by his choice of dish. He, on the other hand, seems offended.

“What do you take me for?” he asks, very obviously exaggerating his reaction. “I’m a trained chef, Y/N. I’m making beef bourguignon.”

“Which is just a slightly fancier version of a beef stew,” you laugh, using humour to avoid thinking about the cook and prep time of beef bourguignon - at the very least three hours, even more if you want to Julia Child it and let it simmer properly. More than three hours with Kim Seokjin, in a row, without anyone around to hide behind? “Sounds good!” you lie, trying to look excited because you truly don’t want to ruin something that just seems like a nice gesture.

“Perfect!” he beams at you. “Now, where do you keep your chopping boards?”

No, you don’t have the time to think about it, not while it’s literally ongoing. You shake your head and decide to roll with the punches. “I want to help you, though. I can’t just sit here and let you do all the work. Not to mention how wrong it feels to have someone cooking in my kitchen,” you add, realizing that no one other than yourself ever cooked here - no one, ever.

“The cupboard under the sink,” you tell him as you sit down drag a chair towards the kitchen island, worried about the predicament you are in. First, the feelings, the ones you have shamelessly pushed under the rug and had refused to acknowledge. They have blindsided you and you can’t even properly define and understand him and now he is here, in your apartment, your kitchen, making dinner.

Not to mention that you aren’t exactly wearing your Sunday best. He’s all jeans and an elegant blue sweater, while you’re in mis-matched sweatpants and sweatshirt, which are both a size or two too big for you. Your hair is a mess and frankly, you can’t even recall if you’d washed your face this morning. You are a mess, both physically and emotionally and he has cornered you, most likely without even realizing it.

“In that case, you can peel and chop,” he starts laughing at your exasperated expression. “Come on, don’t look at me like that - I’m trying to do something nice here. The point is for you to relax and enjoy a good meal, a meal that someone else has cooked for you. And if you do insist on helping, then you can peel and chop.”

There’s a lump in your throat and you think you know why. It’s the feelings, they’re making you feel touched by his actions. He is spending his day off here, doing something nice for you, on his own free will? Just a week ago, all of this would have been a major red flag. And now it’s just something that makes you feel thankful, giddy even.

“Give me my peeler then,” you say, holding the palm of your hand open, waiting.

He smirks at you, shaking his head with what looks like disbelief and you smirk back, unable to stop yourself. The not so subtle stare off between you isn’t uncomfortable. It’s miles away from the feeling you had over the weekend, when you were straight up avoiding making direct eye contact with him. This time, you’re keeping it up, smiling when he is the one who breaks. He turns around and opens one of the drawers, finding the peeler on the first try before leaning over the island and handing it to you with a smirk still present on his face.

“Let’s start working, chef.”

The decision to slow down with the wine after your first glass was a good one. Not only is the wine one of the best ones you’ve tasted in a while, you also wanted to keep a clear head. Alcohol tends to greatly weaken your brain to mouth filter and that can’t happen when you’re one on one with Seokjin. You don’t want to ruin the evening.

It felt as if he was the same Seokjin he was back when you first started school. The interesting, charming guy with a good sense of humor. He can still act over the top, which he did, but he was more toned down than usual. Is usual even the right word? It’s not, not when you don’t have much to compare it to. This is the first time the two of you have been alone for more than a few minutes, simply talking and enjoying the conversation.

“You can’t be serious,” Seokjin laughs, putting one of the plates that he was washing back in the sink to turn around and give you a doubtful look. “You mean outside the subway, right?”

“Nope, it was below ground, right around the corner from the trains,” you confirm, remembering that day clearly. “I remember that I was starving, so maybe that’s why the croissant was so good. It was cheap, on a Parisian subway and it still is my favorite food memory from Paris.”

“You’re picking that subway croissant over… ratatouille or bouillabaisse?”

“I said favorite, not the most delicious one,” you point out with a laugh. “Travelling and eating go hand in hand, at least to me. Wherever I went, I’ve made a point to spend a good amount of my budget just on food. I’d go where the locals go, try food I didn’t recognize… Honestly, I miss that. I’m limited to one vacation a year and it’s usually just one destination.”

“I get that,” he tells you as he continues washing the dishes, which he insisted to do, despite your multiple offers to at least cover the clean up part of the evening. “A good friend of mine lives in Greece, owns an amazing restaurant. I’ve gone there for the past three years and don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining, I live for Greek food. But I want to explore more, you know?”

“That’s very relatable,” you sigh, suddenly feeling a little bit regretful. “I’ve been to Italy, Japan, France numerous times, had the most amazing experiences but there are so many other places waiting to be discovered and I just play it safe. I want to go somewhere and try… I don’t know, all the weird stuff that sounds unappetizing but is actually the local specialty. I’m a bit tired of the classic dishes that end up on our menus and comfort food.”

“What’s your favorite comfort food?” Seokjin asks you, as he finally wraps up his work and joins you, sitting across the island and reaching for his own glass of wine as you try to think of an answer. Comfort food by taste or comfort food by memory?

“I have to go with potatoes.”

He chokes on his drink, making you laugh at his reaction. Once again, you are met with a look of disbelief. “Are you kidding me? Potatoes? Out of all the food in the world?”

“You said comfort food, not favorite food,” you remind him with a grin. “And yeah, it’s potatoes. They’re so simple and versatile and you can do whatever the hell you want with them. When I was a kid, my mom used to make me and my brother these stuffed, roasted potatoes. I don’t even know the ingredients honestly, I’ve never tried making them myself like that. To get that original comfort food taste, it has to be made by my mom. No one else.”

“I’m a professional chef and I still fully acknowledge that I’m nowhere near as good as my mom is,” Seokjin’s admission makes you laugh but you understand it fully. “She used to make the most amazing mac and cheese. Unlike you, I did try to recreate it - I followed her recipe to a T and still ended up with a sad imitation. Nothing ever beats the food you grew up eating.”

“Are you close to your family?” you ask and regret it immediately, wondering if that is too much, if you’re asking questions you have no business knowing answers to. You’ve known Seokjin for years but you could hardly call him a friend when you know so little about him.

“Yeah, I’d say so,” he nods, not even hesitating to share information about his personal life. “I visit them often and I try to go fishing with my brother as much as I can. What about you?”

“As close as we can be,” you shrug, reaching for your wine. “You know what our working hours are like and as much as I want to drive and see them on the weekends, I often just can’t. And my brother lives abroad with his wife and kids, so we rarely see each other. We facetime often, though. His kids are already starting school next year.”

“I have a niece,” Seokjin smiles with that cute, content smile that now feels familiar. You wait as he pulls out his phone, turning it to proudly show off the photo he selected - it’s him with a child in his arms, a little girl with the cutest face, big smile and tiny little pigtails. She can’t be more than three years old and she looks so happy to be held by her uncle.

“Oh, she is so cute! She adores you, doesn’t she?” the words leave your mouth before you can stop them.

“I think she loves me more than her parents,” he admits, breaking into a fit of laughter. “She doesn’t let go of me, which I don’t mind, I adore the kid, but she just fuels my mother’s need for more grandchildren and when she clings to me… well…”

“Oh, I know,” you wave your hand. “Mine have two grandchildren and not a single reunion passes without them wondering when I’m going to reproduce.” They mean well, you know that and you don’t hold it against them. There are just times when they make you feel like you’re not doing a good enough job with the life they’ve given you, just because you haven’t had kids yet. Yes, they mean well but that’s not something you often want to hear.

“Do you want kids?” he asks. It should feel weird, it really should, talking about these things with him. It’s personal, too personal even, but you feel so at ease around him tonight, you can’t be bothered to care. It doesn’t feel wrong, not in the slightest.

“One day, yeah,” you shrug, seeing as this wasn’t something you thought about often. When you’re single and haven’t had a serious relationship in years, kids are on the back burner. “What about you? I don’t know why, but I never pegged you for a parental type.”

“You don’t know me very well then,” he laughs and the way he does it is so… cheeky and teasing. If anyone else was sitting here with you right now, you would swear on your life that they were flirting. Without a doubt, the teasing smile and raised eyebrow would make your mind go in that direction. Seeing as this is Seokjin, you can’t be too sure. It goes against everything he has ever said and done. But like a curse, Jungkook’s words come back to haunt you again. Would it be so weird to think that he likes you? He is here, after all.

“You’re right,” you nod as you put down your glass. “I don’t know you very well, do I?” he seems surprised at your question, even going so far as to look uncomfortable. Only for a second, before he offers you a smile.

“What would you like to know?”

“Why are you here?” you ask. It wasn’t what you were planning on asking, not by a long shot. You wanted to ask stupid questions, to find out what his favorite movies are, what’s his most embarrassing memory - the things you know about your friends. A game of 20 questions was what you had in mind when pointing out that you don’t really know a lot about him but when the opportunity presented itself, your self control had other plans. And seriously - why is he here?

Seokjin blinks a couple of times, seemingly needing time to process your question and think of a decent answer. “I wanted to do something nice,” he shrugs, giving you the same excuse that he had given earlier. You didn’t doubt it much then but now you’ve started wondering. “We’ve decided to start over and I… wanted to extend an olive branch.”

It makes perfect sense and you don’t believe a single word of it. “Why are you really here?” you push, following your instinct. Said instinct might be affected by the feelings but it’s there. And if there is one thing you’ve learned in life, it’s to follow your gut feeling - always.

Seokjin chuckles nervously and lo and behold, his ears give him away. “Do you think there’s an ulterior motive here?” he asks, shaking his head. He’s a decent actor, but not nearly as good as he thinks he is. He’s way too defensive for someone with no ulterior motives. “I didn’t poison the beef bourguignon, if that’s what you’re aiming at,” he adds, pointing back at the stove, where your dinner has been slowly simmering for about an hour now.

“No, I don’t think you’re trying to poison me,” you chuckle, shaking your head, wondering if you should just stop talking and drop the whole thing entirely. “I thought that… You know what? Never mind,” you decide, knowing that some questions are perhaps better left unanswered. “Tell me, what’s your favorite TV show? Are you a binger or a once a week type of guy?”

“Y/N, you don’t get to change topics on me like that,” Seokjin looks serious now, refusing to break eye contact. You struggle to not look away, knowing that you have pushed it too far and now you’re unable to backtrack. He won’t let you. “What did you think?” he asks.

What’s the worst thing that could happen if you answer truthfully? He could laugh at you and that’s pretty much it. And if he does start laughing, you can play it off and join in on the joke. And if he pulls the ultimate dick move and tells your mutual friends about it, you can always deny.

“The things that happened over the weekend had made me wonder,” you tell him, deciding to leave out the part when Jungkook opened your eyes to this possibility. “Some of the things that you’ve said kind of got my wheels spinning, you know?” you ask. As he swallows a lump, still not looking away from you, you decide to rip off the bandaid and throw your theory out. “Call me crazy and feel free to laugh and tell me I’m a fool but… Seokjin… do you like me?”

Zero emotions are shown on his face. It’s the most perfect poker face that you have ever seen - exposed forehead, full lips and all. Self confidence was never a strong suit of yours, except in the kitchen of course, but you know better than to try and backtrack now. Seconds ago, it was still salvageable. Now, you’ve said it and it’s out in the open. You were either right or wrong.

You wait, not backing away from the nth stare down of the night. You wait, letting him have his time to prepare an answer, whether it’s the truth or a lie. If your suspicions weren’t correct, wouldn’t he have already said something?

“What gave me away?”

And there it is. Jungkook was right and you were blind. How are you supposed to feel now? Relieved? Worried? Panicked? Amused? None of those make sense, nor do they describe the way you are feeling now. With Seokjin looking at you as if he has finally given up, finally surrendered, the only emotion that you can single out with clarity is curiosity.

“Wow. I mean, I wasn’t sure, I half expected you to laugh mockingly or something,” you admit, finally looking away and shaking your head, as if that’s supposed to get your thoughts in order. “The other night, when you said that you just did it to make me laugh… I thought, maybe…”

Lies. Jungkook figured it out, and even then, you refused to believe. Even now, you’re still expecting Seokjin to start laughing, claiming that he had pulled off the ultimate prank. He doesn’t - in fact, he looks more serious than you’ve ever seen him.

“Makes sense,” he lets out a dark chuckle. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Or pissed at myself. I’ve said too much, I’ve set myself up,” the way he runs a hand through his hair, with that solemn look on his face makes him look… hot. Like, really hot. “But at least it’s out in the open, right? Now you know.”

“Wait,” you raise a hand. “I have no idea what you’re trying to say. Like… since when? How? Why? I… I don’t get it.”

“Since when?” he laughs. Now you’re borderline worried, the guy looks like he’s going to experience a mental breakdown any second now. “Pretty much for as long as we’ve known each other. I know, shocking,” he adds, seeing how your eyes had widened when you heard his answer. “To think how I thought that I was obvious.”

“Oh no, you weren’t,” you sit up straighter, your voice raised up a notch. “You were anything but, Seokjin. I thought you despised me! That I was your arch nemesis or some shit like that.”

“Well, maybe I wasn’t obvious to you but I was to others, I’m damn sure all of Catnip knows by now,” he tells you and he looks as if he is calming himself down. His voice is lower and he’s no longer making eye contact, but staring at the island between you. “What I said was true, I did do it to make you laugh and somewhere along the way, I’ve pissed you off, so much so that you went on thinking that I hated you. Which I don’t, by the way. Never have.”

“You… you are a horrible flirt, you know that, right?” is all you can say now, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that the man had a crush on you for years. This time when he laughs, it’s not the dark tone that his laughter had just moments ago. This time around, his laughter is very much genuine, but it also dies down fast.

“I’m very much aware of that,” he confirms, finally looking your way again. There’s not a trace of positive emotion on his face. It’s as if he has completely given up on this conversation ending with a positive outcome. You can’t blame them for that - given the questioning that you’re putting him through and your history together - if you were in his shoes, you’d also see this as an uncomfortable rejection conversation.

Is it, though? It would be, if it weren’t for the feelings. They’re there. You have no fucking clue what they are, much less what they mean but they are there and you can’t ignore their existence any longer. They remind you that once upon a time, he really did make you laugh. That this whole dumb rivalry made you want to work harder and be better, even if it was for the petty reason of simply being better than him. The feelings remind you that you did always consider him attractive, that that stupid smile that he has when he’s truly happy and content does things to you. The feelings remind you that you can recognize the tell-tale signs of his embarrassment. You might not know him well, every line and crevice, every positive and negative but you still know more than you had originally thought. And you want to know more.

“Why?” you ask, knowing you won’t have a peace of mind until you know, even if asking such questions might make him feel uncomfortable. “Why me? I just… I don’t get it.”

“Neither do I,” he answers immediately, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t have a big reason behind it or a particular moment when I realized. Liking you was instant. Of course, it didn’t develop into something… deeper straight away. That part lasted years, but it was impossible not to like you, Y/N. We’re chefs. We make food, that’s our job - our job is to take food and cook it, presented in a visually appealing manner and charge for it more than we should. And you take such a simple, almost meaningless thing and turn it into an art form.”

Although touching and meaningful, his words confuse the life out of you. “You like me because I’m a good chef?” you ask, wondering if you’ve missed something.

“I like you because of the dedication you give to it,” he elaborates. “That stupid excercise that we did the other day didn’t let me do you justice. The look on your face that you’ve had on that first day remains the same now, whenever I see you taking the simplest ingredients and turning them into art. I have admired that and it’s one of the reasons why my eyes would look for you every damn time we were in that test kitchen. You were there and so focused, so beautiful and so damn good at what you did. And smart, funny, a good leader and a good friend. It also didn’t hurt that you look damn hot when you’re focused on something.”

The last part he adds, almost like an afterthought and it makes you laugh. He laughs too, when you make eye contact. The feelings have gone haywire. You officially have no control of them because the things that he has said about you, you recognized in him as well, at one point or another. He is so good at what he does, dedicated and driven, while also being a good leader and from what you’ve seen, an awesome friend. To others he was funny - to you, he was a pain in the ass that just so happened to look damn hot when he was focused on something.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admit when you start feeling as if the silence is lasting too long.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he waves his hand, dismissing your suggestion and once again, confusing the hell out of you. “It’s out in the open and now you know why I was an idiot for all those years. I meant what I said when I told you that I wanted us to start fresh and be friendly with one another. I’m a big boy, I know that what’s not meant to be is not meant to be.”

“No, you’re not,” you shake your head, amused at the confusion etched on his face. “You are childish and often petty and honestly, at times you are the most insufferable being on this planet and I can’t even begin to describe how confusing it is that I find that endearing.”

As you listed all the things he is, you watched as his face fell, but you didn’t have a chance to feel bad about it, not when you know that despite all of that, he’s still a good guy. He’s still Seokjin, with all his quirks and insufferable moments. And as much as you might want to deny it, you like him. You really do like him.

“Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t always endearing - in fact, more often than not, you were a real pain in the ass. You’re not a big boy who can handle rejection well and I don’t want to see you handle it. I don’t want to watch you struggle to get over this crush of yours for weeks, months even. I also don’t want to watch you finding it easy to get over it, completely forgetting all about it in a matter of days,” you tell him and you’re not even sure if the words make sense but they go out of your mouth and into his ears, making his eyes go wide.

“Y/N, what are you trying to say?”

“I have no fucking clue,” you shrug, getting up from your chair. “I didn’t have enough time to process any of this. Just minutes ago, I thought there’s no way in hell that you’re that dumb to pull a third grader flirting technique,” you keep talking as you walk over to him, watching him as he turns to face you, slightly alarmed by your sudden proximity, even if there’s a good two feet between you. “I’m not fully aware of what I’m saying, or feeling for that matter, but I do know that I am feeling something. Don’t ask me to define it, cause I can’t, not in this mindfuck of a plot twist that my life did not prepare me for. I just know that I want to test something out.”

“Test? Test out what?” he asks as you take the final step to close the gap between you.

“This,” is all you tell him as you grab a hold of his cute blue sweater and pull him closer, not wasting a single second before you press your lips to his. Neither of you moves for a moment or two, he out of shock and you out of pure confusion because why the hell are you kissing Kim Seokjin?! A few seconds pass and it’s he who starts moving, bringing life into your dead kiss. And the moment he does, you feel it in the pit of your stomach that there is nothing, absolutely nothing wrong about this. When he puts his hands on your sides, you let yours move from where they were clutching onto his sweater up and around his neck, pulling him down, closer to you. The strands of hair that reach the nape of his neck feel like silk under your fingers and when you feel his tongue graze your bottom lip, you softly gasp.

That makes him pull away - that little gasp of yours seems like a wake-up call for him because he is pulling away, his eyes wide, making him look as if he thinks he is imagining all of this. He looks shocked but he is not letting go of you and your hands are still locked behind his neck.

“Kissing you is good,” you conclude. “I want to keep doing that.”

“Zero complaints here,” is all he says before he stands up and kisses you again. Without breaking the kiss, he twists your hips to the side, making you lean back on the island, the edge of the surface pressing into your back as he essentially cages you.

It’s funny, how many things about him you never really realized. For example, how tall he actually is and how much he has to bend down in order to kiss you, which he does, diligently. You also have never noticed how clear his skin is, not until your fingers grazed his cheeks softly. He was in front of you, right in front of you, all these years and until tonight, he was nothing more than an annoying guy with a good face. How wrong you were…

“Of course, you’re a good kisser too,” he sighs as he breaks the kiss, leaning his forehead on yours, his eyes still closed. “Are you an overachiever in every aspect of your life?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you tease, chuckling when he backs away, startled.

“That’s not… I wasn’t trying to insinuate something,” he defends himself immediately.

“But I am,” you giggle at the way his eyes widen. You can’t blame him - this night has made you go from zero to sixty in no time. That realization does make you nervous but you’ve already decided to push it back and just do whatever it is that you want to do. “I’m telling you, I don’t want to think or define. We can deal with that later. Now, I just want… you.”

Seokjin takes a second, gulping, looking at you as if he is waiting for you to laugh in his face or take the offer back. When he stays silent for what you deem as a bit too long, you smile softly at him and drag your thumb across his bottom lip - it’s so soft and inviting, already red from the kisses that you’ve shared. You want him and he needs to stop second guessing that.

Whatever it is that he was looking for on your face, he seems to have found it because he’s suddenly kissing you again, with a lot more ferocity than he did just moments ago. That was a kiss, a first kiss, a getting-to-know-what-this-feels-like kiss - this is a kiss. Hands digging into your skin, tongue driving you crazy with gasps and heavy breathing kind of kiss.

You are the one who pulls away but you stay silent, taking his hand into yours and leading him towards the door. A silent moment is exchanged when he looks at the stove, where your dinner is still cooking, then back to you. Beef bourguignon takes hours to make and given the years of expertise between the two of you, you’re comfortable with leaving the stove on. So you laugh and he does too, before you pull him into the hallway.

Along the way, you kiss, hit a few walls and your sweatshirt is left discarded on the floor - you don’t have time for another freakout at how ridiculously unprepared you are for this because the way he looks at you kills the little insecurities that haunt you. His eyes scan over any area of skin that they can see while his fingers slide over the very edge of your bra, tickling the skin they graze. Goosebumps cover your skin and you all but slam him into your bedroom door.

“Woah,” he laughs. “Never thought you were this impatient.”

“I’m usually not,” you admit with a shrug.

“I’m not complaining,” he laughs as the two of you waddle towards the bed, still pressed to one another. You smile as you push him gently onto the bed. He looks up at you, mouth open and eyebrows raised. “Oh, I am not complaining at all!”

Smiling, you straddle his lap and pause for a second, taking a moment to get used to what’s happening. Unlike you, he is patient - he simply looks at you, a strange mix of awe and giddiness written on his face. His hands are glued to your hips and he runs his thumbs in circles, gently. It looks as if he’s relishing the moment and letting you take the lead in what’ll happen next. “This is really happening, isn’t it?” you ask, your chest filling with pride when he shows you that signature smile of his, the one that causes a ruckus among the butterflies in your stomach.

“I think it is,” he leans closer to you, connecting his lips to your neck and that one, simple action is enough to make you realize that if he’s down, you’ll be more than happy to take it all the way tonight. Neck kisses are a universal weakness and you’re gladly going to let him use it to his advantage. “If this ends up being a wet dream of mine, I’m going to be so pissed when I wake up,” he admits before nipping at your skin, an action that elicits a whole new wave of horniness to take over you. Neck kisses are bad enough - neck bites will be your downfall.

“If it is a wet dream, come and find me when you wake up and tell me what you’ve told me tonight. Then we’ll see what we can do about it,” you joke, laughing even harder when he grabs a hold of you and moves you down on the bed. This is the first sign of initiative that he has shown so far and you are not complaining. It’s your turn now to gulp as he hovers above you, looking down at your body like he is seconds away from eating you alive.

“I thought you were hot before but I never thought you were hiding all of this under your clothes,” he tells you as he pulls down on the straps of your bra - at least your underwear is a matching black set, if the rest of you is a mess. Lifting your back from the bed, you help him take the fabric off and he grins up at you once your boobs are out in the open. “Chef’s uniforms really didn’t do your boobs justice.”

“You’ve seen me in casual clothes plenty of times,” you laugh at his antics. He’s known you for years, there’s no way he didn’t catch a good view of your cleavage in all that time.

“Not nearly as often as I should have,” he mumbles and before you have a chance to talk back, he leaves you speechless as he attaches his mouth to you, immediately giving your nipple a gentle bite. Eyes rolling into the back of your head, you do your best to stay silent - there’s no way in hell Seokjin won’t be cocky about this later and you don’t want to give him too much material to work with right off the bat.

It doesn’t take long for you to realize that one of the hottest things about being with Seokjin like this is simply seeing Seokjin like this. There is just something so inherently hot about the way his eyes close as rolls his tongue across your nipple. He makes the sight even hotter than the action itself, especially when he reaches for your other breast, gently playing with it as he pleases. Simple actions like that are already driving you nuts and you can only worry about what’s to come later. And it gets worse - turned on by the sight, you reach for him, moving the hair away from his eyes and the second you two make eye contact, a moan leaves you - a loud, shameless one at that. You could swear his eyes twinkled then and there.

“Please tell me you have a condom,” he starts kissing down your body.

“If you’re clean, you don’t need it. I’m clean and on the pill.”

He suddenly stops kissing you, choosing to laugh instead. “You’re telling me that a week ago you could barely stand being in the same room with me and now you’re letting me sleep with you without a condom?”

“I mean...” you shrug, joining in on his laughter. “I’m sure stranger things have happened.”

“Not to me they haven’t,” he jokes, before immediately turning serious. “Are you sure you want this? I really don’t want you to regret it,” he admits.

“The only thing I’m going to regret is letting you take the lead because you’re taking too long and you’re still in your clothes.”

“Easy,” he laughs as he hooks his fingers past the waistband of your sweatpants and slowly starts pulling them down, leaving your underwear in place. “Eat what makes you happy, they say,” he says and you roll your eyes. Of course, leave it to Seokjin to think pussy.

“They also say don’t play with your food,” you playfully remind him as you kick off the pants. He doesn’t laugh - instead, he reaches for your leg and softly caresses it.

“Is your leg going to be okay?” he asks and if you weren’t whipped beyond belief before, you are now. Even you have managed to completely forget about your injury but he hasn't. Even now, Seokjin finds ways to prove you wrong and show how thoughtful he actually is.

You simply nod and that’s confirmation enough for him. His hand trails up and on the inside of your thigh pausing before touching your wet underwear. He gives you a questioning look, not touching you until you confirm that that’s what you want. You nod quickly and in a matter of seconds, the last of your clothes is on the floor, and Seokjin is diving right in.

Despite complaining that he’s taking too long, you realize that he’s not the one to tease - at least not tonight. His mouth connects with your clit almost immediately and it’s enough to make you moan again. He licks, sucks and grazes his teeth against it, letting you hold onto his hair like your life depends on it. He’s good, which makes perfect sense because leave it to Kim Seokjin to give you the best oral sex of your entire life. You won’t tell him - not now, perhaps not ever, cause he doesn’t need that to get into his head too, but good lord is he good.

“Can I?” he asks, tracing his finger across your opening.

“Seokjin, at this point you can do whatever the fuck you want,” you laugh, a laugh that turns into a moan when he sinks his finger in, curving it up immediately and making you arch your back.

“Is this good?” he asks and the feelings go berserk again. In your mind, it can’t get any better than a man that actually pays attention to what his lover enjoys.

“More than,” you moan as he adds another finger and effectively ends your conversation. He is driving you crazy - something that you’ve noticed before, when you side eyed his chopping skills years ago, is how he has beautiful hands with long, almost elegant fingers. Never did you think that those fingers would be inside you, making you count your blessings and struggle to not moan out his name. A struggle that you have lost when he puts a third finger to use.

You want more - as amazing as it is, you want more. You want to kiss him, to feel him inside you, to make him feel as good as he is making you feel now. As much as you didn’t want to stop him, as much as you’d gladly spend hours like this, you wanted and needed more.

“Seokjin, stop,” he does so immediately, looking up at you in worry. His face is covered in your wetness and the sight makes you want to cry. He has never looked hotter than he does right now, between your legs, the evidence of your pleasure all over his face and his hair a mess because of you. “I want you. Wanna kiss you.”

“But you taste heavenly,” he pouts, turning his head to leave kisses on your thigh.

“I’ll taste heavenly a bit later too,” you push, knowing that no matter how good this feels, it can get better for the both of you. “Come on, I want to see you.”

Grinning, he gives your thigh a quick bite - the man has a biting kink, there’s no denying it. While that’s something you’ve never given much thought before, you are now finding it very enjoyable. What’s even more enjoyable is the sight of Seokjin taking his sweater off. You’ve known he’s handsome, you’re not blind, but never in a million years would you think that he’s so well defined. He’s not buff, far from it. He is just so perfectly defined, every muscle on his stomach noticeable and if you’re being completely honest with yourself, lickable.

He undresses quickly as you ogle at him, your breath hitching the moment he drops his pants.

“Well, that explains a lot,” you comment as you eye his dick - hard, girthy and surprisingly big.

“What?” Seokjin is confused and you giggle at the way he hides his dick with his hands. “You think I’m compensating for something?”

“Quite the opposite,” you answer honestly. “I imagine it’s easy being so full of yourself with a dick like that.”

“Is that an insult or a compliment?” he laughs.

“Both,” you would have been more cheeky if he hadn’t started stroking himself, the sight driving you absolutely crazy. “Please. I want to feel you.”

You don’t have to say it again - he moves to loom over you and finally, after what feels like hours and not mere minutes, you can kiss him again. The taste of you on his tongue doesn’t bother you. It’s the opposite, actually, making this moment and Seokjin himself even hotter to you. He lets you push him down onto the bed and without breaking the kiss, you station yourself above him. For the first time tonight, his hands grab a hold of your ass and he squeezes - hard.

Both of you stay silent as you move, putting your arm between the two of you to grab a hold of his dick as you kiss. He lets out a groan the moment you wrap your hands around it. Movements gentle and slow, teasing even, knowing that this is the only chance you get to focus on his pleasure. You’d gladly take him into your mouth but you’re much too impatient for that tonight. A brief hand job will have to do, and judging by his reactions, it’s more than enough.

You are surprised at how vocal Seokjin actually is in bed, not that you’ve given it much thought before. He’s not holding back, his moans low and deep, not embarrassed in the slightest to show you how good you’re making him feel. After one particular, higher pitched moan, you decide to do the same. You were holding back before, stupidly worried about your own dignity and giving him material to tease you endlessly. You won’t anymore.

Biting your bottom lip and pulling it as he breaks the kiss, he leans back, looking at you with lust in his eyes, his cheeks the exact same shade as the tips of his ears. You want to take a photograph, to memorize the sight of him being turned. It feels like a privilege that only you have and you want to commit it to memory. “Y/N, please,” is all he says.

Slowly, you line him up to your entrance and with your bottom lip between your teeth, you sink down on him. Immediately, the both of you groan at the feeling. Him being inside you feels right in all the wrong ways, a feeling so right that you know you’re going to miss it when it’s gone.

He is the one who moves first, lifting his hips to get you to move. Smiling down at him, you grab a hold of his shoulders and slowly move your hips, letting him almost slip out of you before swallowing him whole again. Each roll of your hips faster than the previous one, not even a minute passes before Seokjin moves his hands away from your ass and pulls you directly on top of him, chest to chest, lips stuck in a slow kiss as he slams up into you.

“Fuck, you feel so good Y/N,” he tells you and follows it with a particular hard thrust that makes you grip his shoulders harder, holding on for dear life. Having never been with him before, you couldn’t tell if he was close or not. You weren’t, yet strangely, that doesn’t bother you whatsoever. That can be dealt with easily - now, all you want to do is enjoy the feeling of him slamming into you, hard and fast, and the sight of him barely keeping it together.

“Happy to hear that,” you giggle before said giggle is rudely interrupted with another harsher snap of his hips. “Fine, fine, you’re not so bad yourself,” you tease and the look he gives you is enough for you to know that you’ll regret saying that. Immediately.

Without any warning, he flips you around and slams you down on the bed, his dick never leaving you. Before you can even react in any way, your healthy leg is pushed up towards your chest and Seokjin slams into you with a purpose. “You talk about how I annoyed the life out of you, pretending like you’ve never bickered back with that mouth of yours,” his words are menacing and incredibly sexy, but the way he is eating you up with his eyes kills any doubt that his words are actually resentful. “I’m glad I’ve found a way to shut you up,” he announces and as if you weren’t losing your mind already, he sneaks a finger between your legs and pinches your clit, eliciting the loudest moan of the night. “Or maybe not.”

“Seokjin!”

“Fuck, you sound so hot screaming my name,” his pace speeds up, knowing that your orgasm is right around the corner - his thrusts become more shallow but his fingers rub your clit in the speed of light. “Come on Y/N, come for me.”

As much as you wish that your body complied and let you come on his command, it didn’t happen that way. It took a few thrusts more, a few more harsher movements of his fingers, but by the time your orgasm has washed over you, you were gasping loudly, digging your nails into the skin of his back. Your brain was mush and you could barely recognize the words he’s saying, something about how you’re squeezing him so good. He doesn’t stop moving, helping you ride out your orgasm to the point of overstimulation. Coming out of your post-orgasm haze, you fight the overstimulation and focus on him, noticing how his thrusts are getting more erratic. He looks so out of it, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, his shoulders red with how strong you are gripping him. Slowly, you slide your hands up and around his neck, pulling him down to you, ignoring the painful stretch in your leg.

“You can finish inside me,” you tell him, hushing his loud moan with a kiss. It’s a hectic kiss, your lips barely moving because he’s gasping into your mouth and you’re moaning at the feeling of his dick twitching inside you. “Seokjin, please come for me.”

Was it you begging for him to come or a creampie kink, you have no idea and you don’t particularly care because the moment he comes and starts filling you up, you’re on cloud nine. It feels as good as an actual orgasm, to know that you, your body, the way you made him feel was enough to make him explode, very literally. You were the one helping him now, lifting up your hips as he stood still, his face buried in your neck, his groans filling your ear. His dick is still twitching but his body has completely given up - he drops your leg and practically falls on top of you, having enough strength and sanity to soften the blow with his hands.

His hands give up slowly and in a matter of seconds every inch of him is pressed up against you. You don’t care, too busy relishing the feeling of his breaths on your neck and his cum slowly dripping out of you and around his dick. God, you wish you could see it but the position won’t let you. Instead of pushing him away to get a better view, you close your eyes and let your body calm down together with his.

His weight on top of you should feel suffocating but it’s not. It feels comforting and right, which scares you to an extent but not enough to chicken out and push him away, especially not when he starts kissing any parts of you he can reach, focusing on your shoulder. After a few moments he rolls over but stays close, his hand draped over your side. You look at each other and it’s impossible not to smile because he is beaming. You can’t remember if you’ve ever seen him this happy. You must have - it’s just that you probably weren’t paying attention.

“So… that happened,” he speaks up first.

“Yup. Talk about a plot twist, huh?” you joke, shaking your head as you realize how weird this is on paper. “Culinary school Y/N never thought a day would come when she’d have sex with Seokjin.”

“Yesterday’s Seokjin never thought a day would come when he’d have sex with Y/N,” he laughs, shuffling closer to you. By the looks of it, he is a cuddler and you have zero complaints about it. You let him hold you, snuggling against his chest, enjoying the moment a lot more than you ever thought you could. “Let me take you out, Y/N,” he tells you. He seems earnest and a lot more hopeful than he was back in the kitchen. “You found it in you to put the tension behind and give us a shot at being friends. Why not give this a shot, too? I like you a lot and I’ve liked you for a while… maybe you could find something to like in little old me?” he shrugs.

“It’s already too late for that,” you laugh, lowering your head to leave a few kisses on his chest. “I’m still not ready to define it and put it to words but I’d be happy to go out with you,” you admit.

“It might not take us anywhere,” he shrugs, making your head bounce with the movement. “For all we know, you might realize you do hate my guts after all. But maybe we end up getting along better than anyone would expect?”

“Seokjin… with your cooking skills and your oral skills, we’re already getting along very well, if you ask me,” you joke but after a few seconds of laughter, he sits up and pushes you away.

“The beef bourguignon!” he gasps. The sight of Seokjin running out of your bedroom, naked, to check on the food brings tears to your eyes. You can even hear him berating you, yelling something about how this is not a laughing matter but that only makes it more comical. Isn’t it ironic how now, he can make you laugh without even trying?

The beef bourguignon didn’t burn. It was the best beef bourguignon that you’ve ever had. The entire evening was one of the best in your recent memory. Whether it was the dinner, his sweater that you were wearing while you ate, the wine, the shared shower or waking up the next morning in his embrace, the time you’ve spent with Seokjin was enjoyable, perhaps even meaningful and definitely worth repeating.

As long as you are both willing to give it a go, it’s worth it. And it has to be kept between the two of you, at least for now. Cause as much as you like Seokjin, his cooking skills and his dick, your group of friends will never, ever, let you live this one down. Although, for all of the above… it might just be worth it.

THE END

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