#my father and my sibling were willing to help I just felt more comfortable doing sales on my own

[bibiana112]

Everyone's always so mad over unsolicited criticism but you know what makes me furious? Unsolicited comfort. Me simply not expressing myself the same way as you is not a sign that I'm depressed and in desperate need for you to come to my rescue, it is not an invitation for you to act like my one pillar of reliability or to act like my friend when you do not know my life, do not know wether I do have support, do not know I chose to be in this position you feel so uncomfortable looking at and on god you just don't get to pity me for living my fucking life the way I want to

[auras-moonstone]

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ don’t blame me for what you made me do

ᡣ𐭩 word count: 1.6K

ᡣ𐭩 pairing: gf!ethan landry x gf!fem!carpenter!reader

ᡣ𐭩 summary: y/n is finally able to get revenge on her sisters when the bailey family reaches out to her to ask her to join the plan.

ᡣ𐭩 contents/warnings: implied character death. murder. family issues. bonding over shared issues. fluff.

ᡣ𐭩 author’s note: on sunday it was scream 6’s anniversary and it made me miss that era sm😫 the fandom is so dead, especially the ethan/jack one.

y/n had always felt like an outsider in her own family. her mom’s favorites had always been sam and tara. and y/n went under her radar, the curse of the middle child, they say. and then there were her sisters, who she was also not very close with. despite having only one year difference with tara, the youngest sibling had a better relationship with sam, so y/n was also left alone in the sibling department. she only had her dad, who used to be her entire world until he packed his bags and left her behind. and it was all because of sam carpenter.

revenge is a dish best served cold, they say. and after years of waiting, the opportunity came to y/n. it actually knocked on the door of her new apartment in new york city.

“um, hello? can i help you?” the girl asked confused, seeing three strangers standing before her. one was a man around his forties, then there was a tall boy with curly hair and a red-haired girl with green eyes.

“hi, y/n carpenter, right?” the man said.

“yeah… do i know you?” y/n asked, a tad creeped out.

“no, but you knew my son, richie.”

richie, the man who used to date sam and then try to kill her. the man who tied y/n up and hid her in a closet, telling her she was going to be okay. murdering her was never in richie’s plan, and it still confused the hell out of her.

y/n’s eyes widened. “yes. i’m really sorry about what happened.”

“thank you.” the man gave her a small smile. “my name is wayne bailey, these are my children, quinn and ethan.” his two kids waved at her and she smiled in response. “do you think we could talk for a few minutes? i have something to say that might interest you.”

she reluctantly let them in, and wayne started telling her about what richie told them. how he noticed the tension between her and her sisters, how he could see the resentment in her eyes everytime she looked at sam, how sometimes they became murderous too.

“i don’t know what to tell you… what’s this all about? why are you here?”

“you see, y/n, your sister murdered my son. the light of my life, and i want her to pay. and by what richie told me, i think that’s what you want too.”

that captured her interest. “sam is the reason my dad—the only person i was close with in that damn family—left. so, whatever you have planned, count me in.”

“are you okay?” y/n asked ethan, who looked very deep in thought as they entered the dorms building. they had just came from a meeting at wayne’s house, and ethan had been dead silent the whole way back home.

“i just… aren’t you scared? that things won’t work out and we might end like every other ghostface?” ethan was very expressive when he talked, he talked with his whole body, especially his hands. the maniac hand movement showed y/n that he was very anxious about the whole thing.

during the time she had spent with the baileys, she had reached a conclusion—wayne and quinn were all for revenge, it was clear they were furious with sam. and ethan, although he truly loved his brother and hated sam for what she did, was in on the plan for the mere purpose of pleasing his dad.

richie had been the favorite, and ethan wanted so bad for his father to see him like he once saw his brother that he was willing to sacrifice his life for it. y/n understood that feeling of wanting to belong more than anyone else, which was why she had connected with ethan in a way she never thought would be possible.

they became each other’s comfort, each other’s safe place when things got overwhelming. it really sucked to fake being wary of him, to act like she was trying to keep her distance because—like the rest of the group—she didn’t trust the new members, when it reality she just wanted to wrap her arms around his frame.

“i won’t let anything happen to you. even if i have to take a knife to the heart to make sure you get out of this alive, i’ll do it. i can promise you that.”

ethan shook his head. “but that’s exactly what i’m worried about. something happening to you. the thought of getting out of this without you… fuck, that can’t happen, y/n.”

y/n had seen ethan being vulnerable, he let himself be like that around her, but this was the first time she had seen him cry. it was a sight she never wanted to see again.

she carefully brush his tears away. “okay, then we’ll have each other’s back, okay? please don’t cry, you’re killing me.”

“i’m sorry, i’m just really scared.” he hid his face on the crook of her neck and took deep breaths to stop the tears.

“don’t be sorry. never apologise for feeling, especially to me. it just makes me sad to see your pretty eyes with tears, but i get what you say.”

“i don’t want to go back to the group.” he pouted.

y/n chuckled then checked her smartwatch. “it’s late. chad might wonder where you are.”

ethan groaned. “i don’t care. i’ll tell him i was at study group. can i stay here for a bit?”

“you’re a little obsessed with my presence, landry.” she joked.

“and what if i am?” he said before letting out a nervous laugh.

y/n took him in. his strong arm was settled on the back of the couch, right next to her head. his temple was resting on his closed hand and he was staring intently at her with those killer deep brown eyes. he was so beautiful and she was so weak when it came to him. and fuck if his full lips didn’t look so inviting.

her index finger lifted and it was soon tracing the shape of his lips. they felt as soft as his cute curls. “then we’d be on the same page. because i’m a little obsessed with you.”

ethan’s arm left the back of the couch to end up around the back of y/n’s neck, pulling her close. her shaky hand found its way to his hard chest, right where she could feel the thunderous beats of his heart, which only became more erratic when their lips finally met.

“mmmh, wanted it so bad.” he said between kisses. “we’re not going back to being just friends right? because i can’t handle that.”

“are you out of your mind? no way. you’re mine and i get to kiss you whenever i want. well, whenever i can.”

“yours. fuck, that sounds so good.” he hummed contently. “it’s going to be so hard to hold back from you.”

“but then, when we finally get to release the tension, it’s going to be so good, don’t you think?” she smirked.

“you drive me insane.”

“right back at you, pretty boy. i don’t think you realize how powerful those puppy eyes of yours are.”

ethan’s blood rushed to his cheeks and y/n giggled like a schoolgirl. her chest felt like busting. she was finally happy. truly. the 6 foot two brunet boy lying beneath her was her one source of happiness, and she was not going to let anything take him away from her.

y/n stood in her ghostface costume in front of her sisters. she was practically bouncing on her feet, excited to reveal herself and see the look on the girls’ faces. ethan, who had already shown his face, had the biggest smile. y/n was so adorable he had to close his hands in a fist to fight the temptation of bringing her into his arms.

“ready for the last surprise?.” wayne asked.

“come on, babe.” ethan squeezed her waist and y/n took the mask off. her sisters stepped back in shock, faces tinted with hurt.

“how could you?” tara spat as tears fell from her eyes.

y/n rolled her eyes. “oh, cry me a river.”

“why would you do this? is this all because of him?” sam pointed her head at ethan. “what? you fell in love and he brainwashed you into becoming a killer?”

“do you think i’m stupid? of course not.” she scoffed. “i mean, i did fall in love with him, but that’s besides the point. they came to my door a few days after we moved.” and she told them how she came to work with the baileys. “i waited years, and now… i can finally make you two pay for how shitty you’d always made me feel.”

“what are you talking about? we’re your sisters, y/n.”

y/n glared at tara. “you have some fucking nerve. you’ve always made me feel neglected, until sam left town. we started to bond, but as soon as she was back… you forgot about me. how can you even say you’re my sister?” she yelled in anger. ethan took her hand in comfort. “and you?” she looked at sam. “you’re the reason my dad left, and i swear to god i’m going to show you exactly how badly that hurt.”

“you crazy bitch. you’re insane.” tara screamed at her.

ethan slashed her stomach in fury. “watch your fucking mouth when you talk to my girlfriend!”

“let’s just get over with this. y/n deserves a break.” quinn said.

the carpenters sure put up a fight, y/n was the one who got most of the wounds, but they had managed to succeed. wayne and quinn left to take care of gale and mindy while ethan stay behind taking care of his girlfriend.

“are you feeling alright?”

“don’t worry, eth. they’re bad, but not that bad. i’ll for sure live.” she reassured him. “we made it. i told you we would.”

“you did.” he laughed, and then hugged her tightly. “you scared me so much, though. i really thought i’d lost you when i saw you lying on the ground.”

“i could never leave you.” she brushed her nose against his and whispered against his lips, “i love you. thanks for walking into my life.”

[diejager]

I dont know if you write about it and it’s fine if you dont but I just wanna share my thoughts, if it’s alright with you. 🙂

Know what would make the siblings with Ghost fic? Inc*st. You’ve already laid the groundwork for it, tbh.

Being together most of the time in public and in private settings, men not being able to approach Doc due to Ghost intimidating them, the physical intimacy that is present and constant, and both being closed off to anyone else but to each other. It’s all there, just a bit more darkness and…tada!

I wont say anything anymore as I do not wish to offend you if this is not your cup of tea. But if it is, then I will look forward to your great work, as usual. Thank you and have a good day. 🥰

You, anon, are so blasphemously brilliant. Inc*st isn’t something I’ve done, and isn’t good per se irl, but this is fictional works. So, yeah, here ya go :D And like I said, I’m pretty loose with what I’m willing to write. PS. I am SO going to hell for this-

Pairing : big brother Simon “Ghost” Riley x lil sister reader

Cw: DARK, INC*ST, smut, yandere, DUB-CON, fingering, self-hate, tell me if I missed anything. Wc: 1.4k

NOTE: You've been warned about the content, if you don't like Inc*st, don't read it. Just don't report it, cuz that would be annoying.

YOUR CONSUMPTION OF MEDIA IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY AND YOURS ALONE.

He knew it was wrong, the sheer sinful shame of his acts towards you made him a monster, a vile creature, one worse than the abusive father you shared. His intentions, his thoughts, his needs, they were so wrong, too wrong that he had to choke down the disgust that riled in his guts. 

I’m disgusting, he repeated those words a dozen times, a hundred times, a million times, how many times he needed to get them to stop himself. I’m so fuckin’ disgusting.

Being able to look at himself in the mirror made the sinking feeling worse, he could see the face of the monster he was, not the one who wore a mask or hid behind a moniker; the face he glared at was Simon, the face that shared similarities to yours: the blond hair and the brown eyes. He had red-rimmed eyes, unlike your softer ones, full of life and power. He’d felt the need to break the mirror, shattering it into small pieces and watching his face crumble into fragments and blood, but it would make you worry so much. The blood in the bathroom tiles, wall and sink, his bloodied and roughly wrapped hand and the missing and broken glass would give him away; albeit a shattered mirror was enough for you to rush to him in a flurry of worried words and hushed comfort. 

He felt so fucking disgusting, you cared so much about him, so much care and dedication you devoted to him and him alone since you’ve been young. The words you’d whisper in his ears at night when his regrets crawled out, burdening his mind with bloody and visceral images that terrorised him. You were his solid link, the anchor that held him firmly alive and sane, able enough to keep going. 

You were his lifeline as he was yours, you clutched onto him for love and comfort while he latched on you for the same, but he had needs, dark ideas and images he made with you. His sacrilegious dreams and thoughts violated his image of you, the sweet girl he protected from your abusive father that would beat you and him. 

Stop, this is disgusting, he kept reminding himself, screaming the words to himself in the bathroom, the shower head pouring scalding water upon his request as punishment. Stop it. Stop it, Simon, he screamed, but it never helped, the burning water, the frozen winter, or the pain from wounds, they all numbed until he seaked you out. Then, he couldn’t stop himself, his hands and mouth were so hungry.

You were always with him, and he was always with you; you were stuck by the hip. He came to you by habit, by instinct, by heart. You were his comfort and the only thing that mattered. That's why he was doing this, his need for a physical relationship, the carnal hunger he had, the darkness he wanted to share, all for you. The more selfish side of himself told him that he deserved it and that he was doing this for you. For you, anything.

“Si, are you sure?” you mumbled, breathing in the sweat and cologne on his throat, the thick muscle of his neck bulging when he gulped down harshly. “Si, I’m- I-“

“You trust me, don’t you, love?” he asked, wording his words in a way that would make you less hesitant, and question his intentions less whenever he called you love. It was the nickname everyone at home called you, the youngest of the family, the baby. “Do you?”

“‘Course I do, Si. Of course, I do,” you had a quirk of repeating your words when you got stressed, became so nervous that you’d stutter. It only happend with him or the team, feeling comfortable enough to let them in, to let down the wall you built around you and him enough so that they could see the real you. Task Force 141 truly became a new family, to him and to you.

He shushed your nerves, hands trailing down your backed back to your hips, thumb rubbing circles on your warm skin. You straddled him, he told you that it would make him feel better, it would help him relax and take the edge off. One hand went back to cradle the back of your neck and pushed your closer to him, his head laying on top of yours. His other went further down your back, cupping the fat of your ass, kneading with the softness. His blunt nails dug into your ass, index finding the tight rim of your anal hole. 

You whined and clutched the back of his shirt tightly when he went lower, fore and middle finger bumping into your shaved lips, sliding to your slit and rubbing your clit. You opened your mouth to ask him once more, still hesitant to Simon’s idea, but a moan left instead. His hand rounded your thigh to deftly circle your button between his clothed torso and your sheer nakedness. You wanted to hide, feeling his rough, calloused pads writing eights on your sensitive nerve.

You fidgeted, writhing quietly over him, hip bucking forward and mewling when his forefinger would dip slightly into your cunt, tip sliding in before he pulled back to tease you. Although his intentions were to tease you, pleasure you, you felt the nagging discomfort of sharing this with Simon, he was your brother, the eldest of your family and the only one who you could seek comfort with. It never felt the same when you went to the other men, Simon never liked it either. 

This wasn’t what siblings usually did, or should at all, but how could you deny him, tell your only family no. The burden of pulling back from him in his time of need would hurt more than the discomfort you felt at the moment, the buzzing in your mind and the tingling pleasure he was giving you. This was anything but normal, but for him, for Simon, you’d see it through. 

“Si-!” you jerked back when he slipped a finger in, voice breaking when you cried out, huffing loudly onto the skin of his neck, where he kept you. “Wait-“ your nails sunk into the meat of his back, tapping him, telling him to slow down or wait a bit. 

“I got ya, love,” Simon whispered calmly, adding another finger to pump in and out of your soaked cunt, your body reacted naturally to stimulus even if you’d cried no or stop, please, the body and mind were separate things. “I know, (Name), let me help ya.”

Help wasn’t what you’d qualify this as; although your body reacted to him, any body would do the same if they were on the receiving end. You wanted out, you wanted him to stop, but you also knew no one would love you the way Simon did, or the way Ghost did. He was your haven, your safe space that no one else could become, you already had him, why would you need anyone else. 

“That’s right. Ya got me, so ya don’t need anyone else, right?” 

You couldn’t reply, lost in the drowning sensation of being so full and stimulated by Simon, his big fingers dragging over the spot that made your mind numb and curling just right to make you see stars. Your body shook, crying out his name as pleasure washed over you, walls clamping on his digits, your hips bucked as you rode his hand. 

This is wrong, this is so wrong, Si, you wished you could tell him, but the orgasm made all thought disappear. When was the last time you fucked someone, or dated? You couldn’t remember having anyone significant other than family in your life. Sure, you’ve laid with some soldiers and boys when you were younger, more spry than your current age, but those were long ago and none were as big as Simon was. Men were rarely his size and height, he was a rivalling force in the military and in life. 

He was loving and tender, slowly pushing you over the edge a second and third time before he felt the need to stop, too ashamed of himself to relieve the unbarring and painful sensation of his hard cock straining against the tightness of his brief and pants. You were his priority, your pleasure being the sole purpose of this moment: locked in your shared room, walls reinforced to be sound-proof from the inside and being at the mercy of his skilled fingers. 

He gazed at you, eyes squinting at the fiery blush on your cheeks, warm and sweaty, your eyes dazed and teary from him, tired even, and your breath and heart rapid, loud and gasping. Your eyes met his and you smiled at him tentatively, unsure of how he felt now. Did he feel better? What happened that made him so riled up, mad? 

“I won’t let anyone touch ya, (Name),” he swore, caressing your cheeks sweetly with his clean hand. He loved you too much to lose you to someone else, he couldn’t let another man or woman take you from him like they did with his family. “I love you, (Name),” he said those words like they were a mantra, sacred words meant for you alone. 

“I love you too, Si.”

Only for you, Si. It’s wrong but for you, anything.

[gaybae1021]

Continuation of last week’s post. This week I’ll talk mcd. Art at the end.

Garroth and Zane’s relationship is complicated. For a few years as kids they were very close, but as Garroth got older Garte decided he needed to focus more on his duties and began separating him from Zane and Zianna. Garroth, though unhappy, went along with it. This of course upset Zane, and there were several years with the brothers barely speaking to each other.

I’ll get into it more with a dedicated post, but when Garroth turned twelve there was an event that seriously shook his faith in O’Khasis, his father, and his role in everything. Big existential crisis time. Zane was too young to quite understand what was happening, but despite the rift between them, still went to comfort Garroth. Sibling relationship reformed! Though they still have to hide it.

Garroth wasn’t initially planning to escape O’Khasis. Despite how much he hated it he still thought the best plan was become king like intended and try his best to improve things any way he could. It was only once he met Nicole that he began contemplating the idea of running away.

After a few more years Garroth decided to leave O’Khasis. Due to some events with Nicole, he knew he wouldn’t have much time before O’Khasis cracked down and increased security on him, so his plans we’re definitely rushed, including him just waking Zane up in the middle of night and dragging him along still half asleep.

Once Zane was awake enough to understand what Garroth was doing he, of course, freaked out. This wasn’t the plan, they were supposed to fix O’Khasis, not abandon it. It may not have been perfect, but it was the only home Zane had ever known. The idea of seeing the rest of the world was just, too much.

It didn’t help that Garroth was too focused on rushing to get out to actually stop and explain things better, instead getting frustrated by Zane’s protests. Knowing their fighting will draw attention he finally gave Zane an ultimatum.

“You can come with me, or you can stay here, but my decision is made. What are you going to do?”

Zane didn’t answer. It was too much.

Garroth, taking that as a no, turned to go. Something snapped in Zane. Garroth was going to abandon him again! All the times he had been there to comfort him, and Garroth was willing to leave him behind like he was nothing.

Zane grabbed him, and a fight broke out between them. Not that it lasted long, as Garroth is significantly stronger than him. In a fit of rage, he threw Zane off of him harder than intended. Zane crashed into one the oil lamp stands lighting the hallways, and I think we all know what happened next.

If the sound of their fight didn’t alert any guards Zane’s scream certainly did. Garroth of course was distraught and tried to help Zane, but hearing the guards coming, made the choice to leave Zane there. Zane watched his brother disappear down the hallway.

Garroth’s escape was the first time Garte had felt out of control since becoming king. He had done everything to prepare Garroth, to keep him away from any distractions, to mold him into the perfect heir. That ungrateful traitor had gone and ruined it all. Worse yet, he had no idea where Garroth could be.

But Zane might. He had hardly interacted with his second son, spending most of his time preparing Garroth for his responsibilities. But now? All of a sudden Garte had a use for him.

In the infirmary, Zane receives a message to go to Garte’s study, alone.

[dogboyjackkennedy]

thinking.

thinking about Dave and his thoughts on Jack pre-Everything (in my headcanons, obviously)

like, the way i view Jack pre-Dee's Murder is that he's still rather blunt and rude, but he could still be rather sweet to others when he wanted. like the whole "kind, but not nice" type of thing.

(also, note that Dave mentioned, while talking to Dee, that he was never fine with Henry murdering her, and that he even tried to talk Henry out of doing it. there's also a Henry Tape where Dave sounds like he regrets what had happened to Dee, mentioning to Henry that he "knew this was a bad idea," and even sounding like he doesn't agree with them framing Jack for the crime. all in all, it's one of the few times we get to hear Dave go "Henry, I don't like what we're doing, and I don't feel comfortable helping you with this." so me writing Dave in this to regret Dee's murder and be generally uncomfortable with what's happening is not technically out of character.)

(this also turned into a bit of a fic whoops-)

thinking about Dave deciding to talk to Jack because...well, he seems kind of approachable. if a little...blunt at times.

he didn't hesitate to talk to Dave about whatever while he worked on animatronics. sometimes it was just complaints about his coworkers from other jobs, sometimes it was his past.

but a lot of the time it was about his siblings. he spoke rather highly of them, especially his sister.

Jack was oddly concerned about him, and the sheer number of scars that littered his body. he was nice to Dave, treated him like an actual human and not a freak (Jack would "jokingly" laugh it off when Dave would bring it up, saying something along the lines of "Well, I mean, a lot of people consider me to be a bit of a freak too, so I guess I understand a bit, man." Dave tries to ignore the sadness in his eyes as he says that, about how it's clear that Jack's had that particular insult slung at him more than once himself, albeit for...different reasons than Dave).

Dave will admit...maybe he got a bit infatuated.

Jack certainly didn't hesitate to let people know what he thought, that was for sure. as Dave had noted early on, he was blunt. he didn't even have much restraint with Henry, his boss. sure, he never said anything that would get him fired, but there were times where you could've convinced Dave that he stepped right up to that line.

sure, Dave could understand a bit why Henry might not have been particularly fond of Jack.

it was when Henry brought up killing Dee that Dave had tried putting his foot down a bit. he tried bringing up every excuse in the book (besides legality, because Henry clearly didn't care about that at this point) to keep Henry from doing it: they wouldn't have a place to hide the third body, Dave was worried about getting cold feet (definitely not because he'd grown close to Jack. definitely not), but, most of all, because it was likely going to piss Jack the FUCK off.

(it had come up during a conversation one afternoon.

"So, Old Sport...you said you were willing to die for your sister once-"

"Oh, fuck yeah, I'd give my life for her's in a heartbeat, Will."

"And...what if someone ever tried to hurt her, like seriously hurt her-?"

He didn't even hesitate.

"I'd tear them limb from limb where they stand.")

Dave had hoped that Henry would've dropped it by the next day.

he definitely didn't.

(Dave had to restrain her while Henry tried killing her. it took a while, given that she kept kicking right at Henry's arms, scratching and biting him. she didn't go down easy, that was for certain.

Dave kept telling Henry not to do this, that he couldn't do this. can't they just threaten her not to say anything? they don't have to kill her. c'mon Henry, please-)

they took her scarf. Jack said that their mom had made it for her before she and their father died. even Dave felt a little bad about that.

Jack came back that evening, and he started looking around for her. Dave couldn't help but feel pure guilt over what had happened. he had to console Jack as he ran around the restaurant, screaming for his sister, saying things like "C'mon Dee, this isn't funny! Come out, Kiddo!" and "Dee? Dee?! Where are you, please!" he had to console Jack during a breakdown where the only words Jack was able to get out through his sobs were "Peter's gonna fucking kill me." he couldn't help but feel shame, remorse as he was practically forced to lie to Jack's face, saying "We'll find her, I'm sure she's alright."

they sent Jack home for a few days, just to process his grief. Dave continued to do his job. it felt like his guilt was eating him alive over those few days.

(he feels eyes on him. he hears whispers. he notices the animatronics getting aggressive. things are moving around.)

Jack comes back, eye bags darker, his eyes still red from crying, but with a determined look on his face. he's rather short with Henry, clearly suspicious of him, but he goes off to do his job.

Dave never sees him...alive after that.

Henry acts weird after that. the hauntings get worse.

after a few days, he decides to finally confront Henry about everything. to try and put his foot down once more.

it doesn't work. but he does learn a few more things.

Henry's building a vessel for Dee. and Jack is dead.

they're framing him for murder.

Dave tries to protest; this isn't what he wants!

Henry shushes him again.

"You wanted this."

Dave goes back to talk with the cops. he still doesn't like this.

Henry promises to show him what happened to Jack later that night.

and when the restaurant closes that evening, Henry tries to take him back to show him after they waited for a bit in the office to make sure that Fredbear and Springbonnie wouldn't move too much and potentially kill one of them. they did hear some movement, but it didn't last long. Henry tries to take him to the Saferoom to show him Jack's resting place.

the suit's empty.

Dave doesn't think he's ever seen Henry legitimately scared before. they both head out into the dining room, where they discover something they failed to notice earlier, and probably the source of the noise.

a trail of blood across the tile floor, leading to the door, where the trail turns into footprints.

it doesn't seem like Jack's dead anymore.

Dave doesn't remember much after that, just that he must've taken a nap or something and woken up sometime around 5:30 in the morning.

(why does his head hurt?)

Henry seems annoyed, taking Dave outside to look at something.

Henry's car has been scratched by someone, the word "LIAR" scratched into the door, and the windshield smashed. it was Jack, it had to be.

Henry had apparently also caught Dee, and put the Puppet on strings. something of which really seemed to piss her off.

(that thing kept staring right into his soul, almost shaking in rage at the sight of him. he keeps his distance)

Peter sued them at one point, and also won. Dave doesn't like thinking about it much, it brings The Guilt back up.

over the years, he felt his mind get more and more scrambled. he felt less remorse, and...even a little bit of his memories got screwed up.

he didn't recognize the name "Jack Kennedy" anymore (oh, but Jack can sure recognize him).

at some point, Henry either vanished or died, Dave's not sure which, and he was left alone again.

but...it wouldn't be for long.

(Colorado. Dave heard the Saferoom door open, and he turned to see...an orange man, no, a zombie.

he can help Dave with his plan!

"Hello there, Old Sport!"

in that moment, for a reason Dave can't understand, the new employee looks at him with a look that can only be described as a mix of annoyance, mild fear, and...pity.

...wait.

why does he look so...familiar?

has Dave met him before?)

[obxsummer]

Gut Feeling // The Pogues

as john b's younger sibling, it was your job to make sure he didn't do anything too stupid. when he leaves with ward to go on a fishing trip, you find out just how cruel the cameron family can be... little did you know john b was finding out the exact same thing.

john b x gn!sibling!reader, platonic!pogues

warnings: the usual shitty cameron parenting, verbal threatening, no use of y/n, tried to keep things gender-neutral but let me know if I missed something!

a/n: sorry if things are out of character, I couldn't really find a way to make this flow the way I wanted. thanks for your patience with this request anon!

navigation 

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John B getting pushed off the Hawk’s Nest was definitely not on your bingo board for this year. Ward Cameron offering to be your legal guardian on top of that wasn’t even a thought in your mind. So what the hell was going on?

Your bond with your older brother, John B, was unshakable. Only a year separated you in age, yet your connection ran much deeper than that. You were best friends as kids, guardians of each other's secrets, and steadfast anchors in each other's lives. Everything only became more intense when your father disappeared. 

Sharing friends was expected, as well as the fact that where there was one of you, the other wasn’t far behind. Everyone in OBX knew the Routledge siblings traveled as a pack alongside their friends. 

Topper shoving John B off the ridiculously tall spot created more than just sprained joints and concussions. Sarah told her dad, and to your dismay, Ward Cameron, was suddenly in front of you, offering to be your legal guardian.

The offer hung heavy in the air as the older man dismissed himself for the two of you to take some time. The expression on your face must have said everything since John B instantly tried to assure you. "Listen, I know you're skeptical, but we're running out of options here. Ward can help us."

You stared out the window, a mix of worry and doubt tugging at your heart. "I don't trust him, John B. There's something off about him." The idea of being in Figure Eight, away from your friends, was terrifying. 

John B let out a heavy sigh, his gaze fixed on the ground. "I get that feeling too, but we need his help. We need to keep DCS off our backs. Nobody said we had to stay there all the time. It’s just a cover."

Despite your hesitation, you nodded, knowing that he had the right idea. The bond between you and John B was your anchor, and you were willing to trust him, even if the circumstances were far from comforting. “I’ll go where you go, JB. But I really have a bad feeling about this.”

--

Moving into the Cameron house was extremely awkward. The walls felt unfamiliar, and Ward's presence seemed to loom over you. The first change came when you and John B were assigned separate bedrooms, a decision that made your unease grow.

Standing hesitantly in the doorway of your new room, you looked at John B with a mixture of concern. "Why can't we share a room?"

Ward exchanged a glance with John B, and the unspoken conversation between them only fueled your anxiety. Was this John B’s decision? "It's important for both of you to have your own space," Ward said, his voice carrying a hint of finality. “Gives you time to grow in your own way. You don’t share a room at home now, do you?”

“I’d feel a lot better by him,” You replied without any regard for your ungrateful attitude. It seemed like Ward was doing a great job at driving a wedge between you and your brother. And even though you did have your own rooms at the Chateau, being separated here felt much worse. Usually, there was just a wall between you, not three hallways, a set of stairs, and locked doors. 

“We can share a room, Mr. Cameron, it’s really no-”

“You will have separate rooms. That is final. I already have a lot on my plate getting you two adjusted, please don’t make it harder.”

As night fell, the unfamiliarity of your surroundings only intensified your discomfort. Unable to bear the thought of being separated from John B, you found yourself sneaking into his room. The floor became your refuge, a makeshift bed where you sought solace in his proximity.

Your unease didn’t disappear overnight. The gold was still waiting to be pulled out of the well and when Ward interfered with the plans for that too, your anxiety resurfaced. You couldn't shake off the feeling that something was amiss.

You had been standing awkwardly on the sidewalk when Ward approached John B and Sarah to bring up the idea. He finally acknowledged your presence. "This trip is just for John B and me. Some bonding time while we talk things out, man to man about dating my daughter…"

John B leaned over, ruffling your hair affectionately even though he wasn't a major fan of this himself. "It's just fishing, Birdie. I'll be back before you know it." He could tell you didn’t like being here by yourself and he didn’t blame you. “Plus, Sarah will be here. You guys could hang out?”

Despite his attempt to reassure you, the feeling of unease clung to you like a second skin. "Promise you'll call if anything goes wrong?"

John B's eyes softened as he nodded. "I promise. Can always hang with JJ and them too, you know. Figure out some plans.”

He hinted toward what you were supposed to be doing the following morning: pulling the gold out. 

With a heavy heart, you watched them head out to the dock the next morning. It felt so silly to be worried about being alone without John B. You retreated to your room, the morning sun casting golden rays across the floor, hoping for the best.

Minutes dragged on like an eternity as you cowered in the suffocating darkness of the room. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of leaves outside, sent shivers down your spine. The air was heavy with fear, your heart beating in a frantic rhythm as the minutes ticked by.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and your heart jumped into your throat. Ward's sinister smile greeted you, his presence casting a shadow that seemed to engulf the room. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked, confused by his presence. “Where’s John B?”

He completely ignored your question and threw the light on as he stepped closer. "I think we need to have a little chat."

“Don’t touch me!” Your breath caught in your throat, and you stumbled back off the bed, your hands pressing against the closet wall as if it could shield you from the threat before you. His grip on your arm was like a vise, cold and unyielding, as he pulled you into the dimly lit room. 

"You see, I have a problem here," Ward hissed, his eyes locking onto yours with a predatory intensity, "Your father thought he could outsmart me from the gold. I killed him for it. You and your brother don’t stand a chance, especially if I take you out one by one…but just how do I go about it?"

As he spoke, his words were a twisted dance of intimidation. His threats were like icy daggers, each word digging deeper into your psyche, igniting a firestorm of panic. The room felt like a cage, and you were trapped in its suffocating grasp.

Your heart raced, your breathing shallow as your mind raced to find an escape route. The weight of his words bore down on you. The room seemed to close in on you, the walls narrowing as Ward's presence loomed over you. Your dad. Ward Cameron killed your dad.

Before you could respond, the door swung open, and another figure entered the room—Rose Cameron. Her demeanor was cold and calculating, her eyes scanning you with an unsettling intensity.

Ward's gaze flickered between you and Rose, and a knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "You remember Rose, right?"

You felt a knot of unease tighten in your stomach. Rose's presence seemed to amplify the danger, and you couldn't shake off the feeling that you were trapped in a spider's web.

Rose's voice was silky, her smile masking an undercurrent of manipulation. "Ward and I are only concerned for your well-being, sweetie. We want what's best for you. You don’t have to worry about going back to the Cut ever again, okay?"

The words felt like a strong hand tightening around your throat, and you backed away, your heart racing as you tried to maintain some semblance of control. "I don't need your concern, I need my brother."

Ward's laugh was chilling, his amusement a stark contrast to the terror that gripped you. "John B’s gone. Why do you think I took him out on the boat? Easier access to dump the body where someone won’t find it."

A wave of panic crashed over you, and you instinctively turned to flee, only to find Rose blocking your path. The realization struck you like a lightning bolt—this was a trap, and you were caught in their twisted game.

Before you could react, Ward lunged forward, his grip like a vice as he forced you into the closet. The sound of the lock clicking shut sent a shock of terror through your veins, and you pounded on the door, desperation fuelling your efforts.

"Let me out! Let me out of here!" Your voice cracked with fear, each thud against the door a desperate plea for escape. “John B!”

From the other side of the door, you heard Ward's voice, his tone taunting. "You're not going anywhere. This is where you'll learn your place. And stay quiet until we finish digging out the gold. Actually, thank you. Without your help, we wouldn’t have even gotten this far."

The reality of your situation hit you like a ton of bricks. Trapped, alone, and at the mercy of their manipulation, you felt a surge of panic rise within you. You were a pawn in their game, a helpless victim in a twisted power play. And they knew about the gold.

As you sat in the darkness, the silence was deafening, broken only by your ragged breaths. The taste of fear lingered on your tongue, and you knew that escaping this nightmare would require every ounce of strength you possessed.

You waited until silence covered the house before slamming your body against the closet door. Pain radiated through your shoulder, but you remembered JJ’s direction on kicking a door out before putting it to practice as best as you could.

The adrenaline coursing through your veins was a lifeline, propelling you forward as you lunged for the door and finally broke the lock free. Panic fed your speed, and your heart pounded in your chest as you burst into the hallway, your breath ragged and harsh.

As you fled down the corridor, the taste of freedom was tantalizingly close. You turned a corner, your pulse racing, and then… silence. Panic surged as you realized you were trapped in a dead-end hallway, the walls closing in on you like a vise.

Footsteps echoed ominously behind you, and you whirled around to see Rafe's approaching shadow—no time to spare. Your heart hammered in your chest, and desperation surged within you. With a gasp, you spotted the open doors to the upstairs balcony. Adrenaline-fueled strength carried you forward, and you sprinted toward them. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Rafe’s voice taunted as he started to round the corner. You pushed yourself over the balcony rail and tried your best to hang on as you slowly slide down the column to the ground. Until you lost grip, that is.

The world outside spun in a blur of green and blue, and your body collided with the ground, the impact sending shockwaves of pain through your limbs. Dazed and disoriented, you scrambled to your feet, your breath coming in ragged gasps. 

Rafe's voice echoed behind you, but you didn’t dare look back. 

The sound of your own breath, the rustling leaves, and the pounding of your heart filled your senses as you ran. You thanked JJ for dragging you through these paths as kids so you never got lost by yourself. 

And then, suddenly, your foot caught on a root, and you were tumbling, colliding with something solid. Pain radiated through your limbs as you groaned, disoriented and breathless. You looked up, blinking away tears, only to find yourself staring into a pair of familiar eyes.

"Birdie?" John B's voice was a mixture of disbelief and concern as he rushed to your side, his hands reaching out to steady you.

Your heart raced, emotions swirling within you as you tried to process what was happening. Your eyes widened in panic, and your hands shot up defensively, a guttural gasp escaping your lips as you stumbled back.

John B's expression shifted from surprise to a gentle concern, his voice cautious. "Hey, it's me, it’s me. You're safe. I'm here."

The flood of emotions was overwhelming, and your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath. Slowly, you lowered your hands, your vision clearing enough for you to see your brother's worried eyes, the deep lines of concern etched into his forehead.

"John B?" Your voice trembled, a mixture of disbelief and relief coursing through your veins. “You’re alive?”

He nodded, his voice soothing as he extended a hand toward you. "Yeah, it's me. You're okay now."

You felt your legs give way, the tension and fear of the past hours finally catching up with you. John B caught you, his arms wrapping around you protectively as he eased you to sit. He held you close, the warmth of his embrace grounding you in reality.

As the tears spilled over, you clung to him as if he were the lifeline you had desperately needed. He whispered reassurances as he held you close, reminding you that you were with him and everything was fine.

Gasping for breath, you clung to John B as if he were your anchor in the storm. Tears streaked down your face, your voice trembling as you struggled to find the words to explain the terror you had just experienced.

"John B, I… I couldn't stay there. Ward…" You choked on the words, your voice a fragile whisper. “He said you were dead.”

John B's arms tightened around you as he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "Shhh, take your time. Just tell me what happened."

Taking a deep breath, you began recounting what had just happened—how Ward had cornered you, the sinister threats that were enough for you to kick a door out, and the desperate flight through the woods. As you spoke, you finally let your shoulders sag in relief. Your brother was okay.

John B's grip on you tightened even further, his voice shaky when he realized how fucked up this whole thing was. "He attacked me on the boat. Said he was the reason Dad is gone and… he-he tried to get me to share the gold with him - lashed out when I said no."

As the reality of the situation settled in when you didn’t answer, John B's protective instinct kicked into high gear. He helped you to your feet, his gaze never leaving yours. "Are you hurt? Did he… did he touch you?"

You shook your head. "I'm okay. He didn't… he didn't hurt me."

John B's features softened with relief, but his anger remained simmering beneath the surface. "We're getting out of here. Right now. Let’s go find the others."

Your friends were waiting at the Chateau when you arrived. They attempted to share their progress with the tools to remove the gold but you and your brother moved past them wordlessly

Kiara, Pope, and JJ filed into the house instantly. "Guys? What's going on?" Kiara's voice carried a note of worry. It only got worse when JJ got shoved aside by your brother. “John B!”

John B's gaze darted around the room, his eyes finally settling on yours before he looked away, his jaw clenched tightly. Without a word, he made his way past your friends, his steps determined as he headed for the door, this time with JJ’s gun in his hand.

“Where are you going?” You screamed after him in shock and ran onto the porch. This was not what you figured he would do. 

John B ignored your shouts and kicked JJ’s dirt bike to life before speeding off with no explanation.

JJ exchanged a confused glance with the others. "What's up with him?"

You groaned and flopped on the couch, the heaviness of the truth threatening to consume you. "Ward... Ward killed Big John."

The room fell into stunned silence, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air. Kiara, Pope, and JJ stared at you in shock, their expressions a mix of disbelief and horror.

JJ's voice was barely a whisper. "What?"

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the memories flooded back, the pain of the past resurfacing with a vengeance. "He was investigating something about the Royal Merchant, and Ward killed him when he wouldn't agree to share the gold."

Pope's voice was filled with anger and disbelief. "That son of a..."

Kiara's hand covered her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. "Oh, my god."

As the truth settled in, the room seemed to close in around you, suffocating you with its weight. John B's abrupt departure on the dirt bike now carried a new layer of meaning—if he killed Ward, they would turn this all on your brother.

Hours passed, each moment heavy with the weight of the revelation. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a somber glow across the Chateau. No one spoke, the tension growing with every passing minute.

Kiara eventually got up to grab you something to eat in hopes of calming your nerves. You appreciated the gesture but as you huddled together between JJ and Pope, the reality of the situation began to sink in. 

What the fuck were you going to do now?

--

navigation

read my outer banks x the summer i turned pretty crossover

[effervescentvesper]

Only You.

Pairings: Henry Creel (001) x GN!Reader

Authors Note: Hello! this is my first ever fic I’ve ever fully finished and posted so I’m sorry if its not super polished and forgive me for any spelling errors, this character has me in such a death grip I can’t stop writing about him help :)

Word count: 1,570

Warnings: Death, Graphic depiction of violence, No happy ending, the big sad, non-consenual touching (not anything smutty just things like hugging)

Summary: Henry discovers your true feelings on what he did.

“No-one will hurt you anymore, Sweetheart. “ 001 all but muttered into the crown of your head, his words reverberating in the base of your skull, sending a chill down your spine as you pushed yourself deeper into his blood splattered arms, you were terrified of him but saw no other choice when he pressed you into his chest and held you there. It was comforting in a sick way, reminding you how comforting the orderly had once been to you, his words were usually calming, reassuring but now the look in his eyes betrayed him. He was just a predator looking for his next victim.

He drew in a long sharp breath, inhaling your scent with a contented sigh afterwards, his long digits found themselves intertwined with a strand of your hair, absentmindedly curling it around his finger as his lingering stare was fixated on your petrified form. He could sense your fear, practically taste it, it was addicting to him, like a drug that kept pulling him, that’s why he drew this out longer. He didn’t like it, he fucking Loved it.

“You foolishly believed you could save them.” he began but then paused for emphasis, a grin spreading across his sharp features, “Believed you could stop me. “ he tsked, “But you were never nearly as powerful as 011 and you see what happened to her, don’t you?“ He forced his occupied hand further into your hair until his entire hand met your scalp, 001 proceeded by forcing your head to look past him to the center of the rainbow room where a small, twisted corpse was splayed out across the linoleum.

You could feel bile rise in the back of your throat as tremors began to wrack your body. When you couldn’t take it anymore, You attempted to shut your eyes to block the sight, tears welling and threatening to blur your vision but they refused to. even with the desperation of how much you willed them to close. 001 let out a chuckle, but it turned dark as his voice seemed to grow deeper, rougher and more demanding, “Look at me, now.“ He was using his powers on you. The room seemed to grow darker and the overhead lights flickered momentarily, you let out a sob, looking at his face, though anywhere but his eyes.

His hand fled your scalp, running down to cradle the apple of your cheek and forcing your gaze to meet his piercing one. “Your loyalty to Dr. Brenner has blinded you, prevented you from seeing the truth, But I always have. These children weren’t your siblings, they were just cheap, worthless copies of me, trained to do the bidding of an useless, feeble old man who claimed to be a father to you but used you like a farm animal, disposable at a moment's notice, To him you are nothing, you were nothing. You would be nothing. But not to me. “ he motioned around you with his other hand, his tone becoming more angry as he spoke, passion intertwining his venomous words, but at the last sentence, it turned soft and he cooed to you, a thumb trying to soothingly rub over the pad of your cheek, just staining it with blood in the process. It was vile.

You felt a surge of anger bubble through the cavity of your chest and directly into your heart, he was trying to fucking manipulate you like he always did, but now it didn’t work anymore. You could see through his lies, see him for the monster he was now, everything made sense, why he was locked away, kept here for years. He’s a freak.

“I HATE YOU! “ You screamed in his face, wrestling in his grasp, trying to kick and push him away, he was disgusting, his touch was like being burnt by a hot poker, it was revolting. His hands fell to his sides. He no longer touched you but now pulled away, his soft demeanor dropping immediately, hatred, anger and Betrayal swimming within his eyes, all directed towards you who were panting, fists clenched at your sides.

He could read every thought that crossed your mind. The word ‘Freak’ had struck a nerve within him, diminishing any sort of patience or empathy he had for you at that moment, whatever sick semblance of love he stored solely for you began to dissipate and twist into something even uglier, realization setting in: No One would ever understand him, not even you. In the beginning he hoped he could convince you he was doing what was best for the both of you, but it failed leaving him with only one option.

“YOU'RE A MONSTER! YOU FUCKING BASTARD, YOU MURDERED EVERYONE AND WANT TO BE SEEN AS SOME KIND OF FUCKING SAVIOR!? “ You were red faced and sob screaming at him, the rage was welling up, he murdered innocent children, he murdered a innocent little girl, your only family was dead because of him, and he wanted you to understand!? to think that he loved you!? Your continuous thoughts just angered you further, egging on your rage until you reached out a shaky hand, fingers outstretching in an attempt to forcefully shove him away with your powers.

Nothing happened.

You screamed through clenched teeth with the effort, face creasing and contorting as you willed to harm him, to do anything. You wanted to hurt him as much as he hurt them, to make him suffer for what he did. Your fingers began to tremble with the effort and soon pounding followed in your head, even with all of this 001 remained unaffected, tilting his head at you as a new droplet of blood poured from his nose.

Suddenly as if he was bored with your temper tantrum you were lifted off your feet and slammed into the locked double doors behind you, it was quick but the effects were all the more damaging. The breath flooded out of your lungs, leaving you gasping for air but with no relief. Pain blossomed in your arms where you tried to catch yourself as you landed, a cry of distress escaping you, and you curled in on yourself at the sudden attack.

His lips twisted in a grimace, heavy steps coming closer to you, your arm shot again trying to stop him but you were dragged again by his invisible force, it slid you to the side, slamming you into the brick wall but then it dragged you back quickly, you were laid out at his feet. You looked pathetic to him.

“It didn’t have to be this way. “ he murmured quietly, staring ahead, then his head craned downwards to your slumped form, “it wasn’t supposed to end like this. “

He decided your fate. If you would not join him, you would join the rest of them.

Air rushed into your lungs, and you let out a terrible scream, pressure compounded in your limbs first. It spread out to every fiber of your being, it felt like you were being torn apart from the inside, you weren’t thinking much in these moments, just about the pain and the fear that took control.

“Don’t fight it sweetheart, you’ll be with me soon.'' Your vision was doting to heavy speckles of black, the pain becoming overwhelming, you could barely hear him over your own pained wails.

You could hear yourself sobbing out multiple ‘No’s,’ but distantly you heard the wet crunching and it was all too much, your consciousness faded out, a spark flickering then dimming until it was nothing. It would never be anything again.

-

001 stood in front of your twisted body, eyes focused on your face, in particular the exposed sockets of where your eyes used to be. Oh, how he used to love when you looked at him, but now the empty holes in your face were a heavy reminder of what you had seen him as only moments ago: a monster.

It was going to be okay. That’s what he told himself.

You were still with him after all, in his head. He would have you with him always. Your memories would serve as a reminder of the potential life you had together, even if it was all for nothing in the end.

He frowned at your body and crouched down. Around your twisted neck was a locket that he carefully took off, a heavy contrast to what he had just done to you, and held it out. He reached to it and flipped its latch open.

Inside was a picture of the both of you, that you had managed to secretly take, it had been a miracle that you had even found a way to hide it with how strict Hawkins lab was, but you managed. It was one of the few possessions you owned, he remembered fondly of how excited you were when you showed it to him. He decided he would like to remember you that way.

He thumbed the picture before putting the object in his breast pocket, he stood to his full height. Turning to give a lingering stare at the ravaged rainbow room. He paused for a moment on the body of 011 but soon turned back around with an audible huff. He walked towards the doors, pushing them open with nothing but his mind and walked out, the doors slamming behind him.

001 was gone before anyone could realize what happened.

[madamebaggio]

Notes: I did say I could have one more WIP if I finished another.

So...

Summary!

So… Yeah…

I mean, I’m a weak woman, I don’t even try anymore, blah blah blah… You guys know the drill ;)

This an AU, Londinium is part of the Seven Kingdoms (which actually makes it 8 now, but you get the idea). I’ll explain much more of what happened in future chapters, but the North did go to war, Ned did die, but Sansa was not in King’s Landing with the Lannisters and she never married Tyrion.

Also, I am making her older, just so it’s not completely creepy the fact that she and Arthur consummated the marriage. It’s for my personal comfort.

Also also… I know this summary and first chapter make it sound very serious… But it’s most certainly not. This is going to be full of fluff and shenanigans.

I hope you enjoy.

Oh, one more thing. I am just posting this as a reward for myself, but all updates are blocked until I finish the three other WIPs I had on my update list. So… Yeah.

***

Chapter 1

Sansa Stark first met her husband, Arthur Pendragon, on the day of their wedding. The first time she saw him was early the same day when he arrived for the ceremony. He’d been dirty, dressed in rags with his long hair was quite greasy. He’d barely looked at her, but moved instantly to talk to Robb.

Her mother consoled her, saying this was not a normal courtship, this was a wedding for an alliance.

Everything Sansa knew about Arthur, she’d heard from other people’s conversation. No one would really talk to her about him, not even her mother. All they told her was that he was a good man, and his father had been her father’s friend.

The other tales she’d heard around the camp: his uncle had killed his father and stolen his birthright. The Lannisters had helped and abetted this treachery. He’d been raised by whores at a brothel. Robb had promised to help him get Londinium back. His father’s former bannermen were more than willing to betray his uncle, the Warden of Londinium, for him.

Arthur was apparently happy to throw his lot with the North and call Robb his King, if it meant to get revenge on his uncle.

Sansa’s opinion hardly mattered, as Robb hadn’t asked, but only told her she’d marry this man.

The second time she saw him was in front of a crowd that was there to watch the wedding. Her mother dressed her for the ceremony, and -at least -her groom had washed for it. 

She barely remembered it, for Sansa felt as if she was sleep-walking through it all.

That wasn’t what she wanted, she didn’t even know him, but sacrifices had to be made, apparently.

The feast was a somber affair, as they were at war and couldn’t waste provisions for it.

The bedding was even worse. At that point they’d hardly exchanged more than a few words, he’d drunk quite a bit of ale, before they were carried to the chambers.

He took her in the dark. He wasn’t a brute about it, but he also wasn’t sweet. The only word Sansa could use to describe the whole thing on his part was practical. It felt as if he was doing what was expected of him in the easiest possible way. On her part, it had been painful, uncomfortable and… Empty.

She was very happy when he finished his business and promptly fell asleep beside her.

She was even happier with the fact that they didn’t have to repeat it at all.

Seven days later, her husband was gone.

Sansa was sent back to Winterfell with her siblings.

One year later, she was told she should go to Camelot as the Lady of the Keep.

She lived there for a bit over a year when refugees from the North started coming there because of Long Night and Night King.

She saw dragons flying over the land.

A few months later, news came that it was safe to return to the North.

A month later she received a raven. After three years, her husband was coming home.

Sansa was not impressed.

[coco-loco-nut]

The Captain’s Daughter (Alternate Ending)

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Reader/OC

Warnings: depression, sibling fluff, sadness, shitty version of an afterlife

Summary: Maverick adopted Goose and Carole’s daughter, she’s one hell of a pilot, and Bob is smitten

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | alternate ending | part 4

masterlist

_________________

     The heart monitor starts crashing, Jake and Bob rushing out of the room, Jake to go find a doctor, and Bob to find Maverick and Rooster who left moments ago to get food. Jake stands beside his best friend, willing her to wake up. Bob stands beside her head, looking down at the girl he's come to love, tears threatening to leak from his eyes. Maverick and Rooster are crying at the foot of the bed, begging her to stay alive. They just lost Ice, it's too soon.

     "I'm sorry," the ghost of Nicky stands beside Jake, although he can't hear or see her. "Thank you for getting them back safely, I forgive you for everything. You've always been my best friend."

    She knows her choice was selfish, that if she stayed, there was so much more to her life. But she's saved her family once now, and the pain she went through at the thought of losing them was something she could never feel again, even if it meant them going through that very pain. Selfish, yes, but she didn’t care. She died saving the ones she loved, which was more important to her than anything. Her life was complete. Plus, she just got her birth parents back, why would she lose them again? Maverick was a great father, and he would've done the same for her, but it was about time she got to know the ones she spent her whole life trying to make proud.

    "I love you Bob, take care of them for me," she whispers to the WSO who made her want to break every rule of dating her father ever made. She'll miss looking at him, talking to him, and flying with the shy lieutenant. They never officially became a couple, so it wasn't like she was losing much in that relationship, but she will never know what would've become. He deserves more than her, she will do her best make sure he gets his forever.

     "Dad, thank you for everything. I'll always be with you. I couldn't have asked for a better father, I love you," Maverick looks to where she's standing beside him, tears running down his cheeks. He heard her.

     "I'll always love you, sweetheart. You were the best thing to ever happen to me," he whispers only for the girl he raised as his own to hear. She feels bad knowing how much this must be hurting him, but he knows she's going to be with her parents and with Ice. That's enough for Pete. He knew she always wanted to know her parents like he did, it brings him peace to know she was happy.

     The hardest goodbye is saying goodbye to Bradley. The last Bradshaw, something she caused. Wrapping her arms around her older brother, no longer feeling the comforting warmth, she offers her apology. "I'm so sorry, Bradley, but I'll be with Mom, Dad, and Uncle Ice now. Make us proud and take care of everyone for me. But let them take care of you too, it's okay to reach out for help. I love you so much."

     A shiver is sent down Bradley's back as he feels something touch his shoulder, but no one is there. At the same time, the heart monitor attached to his sister flatlines. He knows what he felt was his sister, he knows she's gone. Silent tears stream down his face. The four men in the room come together, watching the girl they loved in their own unique way lose the week-long fight to stay alive. A lover, best friend, daughter, and sister.

     "Welcome home, kid," Tom says, hugging his bright-eyed niece as she returns. Her, Nick, and him all in their flight suits.

     "Thanks, I'm happy to be here and be with you, Mom, and Dad," she says as her parents join the two of them.

     "Why did you choose to stay?" Dad asks as we make our way to the volleyball pit. Him teaming with Mom and me with Ice.

    "I saw my future, and it was nice, perfect even, but I didn't want it. My life was fulfilling and perfect the way it was. I knew the risks when I chose to save Dad, Bradley, and Jake, and I accepted them. The only thing missing from my life was my birth parents. Dad told stories, but I want to get to know you myself. Plus, I'll see everyone again, and I can't wait to hear their stories when I do. In the meantime, I finally get to spend time with you and annoy everyone as a ghost," Nicole explains. Everyone here has their own base, with the exception of her family, who made one mega base. Nicole couldn’t wait to explore it all while her mom explained how the afterlife worked. 

    Her funeral and wake were somber, sadder than Iceman's. Rooster was the one to give her her final wings. There wasn't a dry eye for a couple rows. She had made the ultimate sacrifice in a show of love, it was moving. Against Goose's protests, she watched and comforted her friends. Her presence scared Payback, he's afraid of ghosts, he didn't appreciate the ghost touches and shivers.

    Mav kept her flight helmet right beside his, eventually gifting them to Rooster. The pair helped Bob and Jake get out of their depressions, they didn’t have anyone to lean on like Mav and Rooster had each other.

    She watched over their lives, helping when missions turned dire. She wasn't ready to add any more volleyball teams. She made sure they had someone to love them and to love back. She listened as Rooster told stories about her, and she listened about how some sailors thought the ship was haunted by her ghost as she tries to complete the mission. When her friends swore she was there protecting their back, she would purposefully mess with them, only conforming it to them. That was the kind of shit she would do alive.

     Bob was the first one of the group to join them at 50 years old -Mav passed a few years ago shortly after Penny- and she had been the one to greet him. He died peacefully, a car accident gone wrong. He never married, opting to be a dog dad his whole life.

     "Hi Bob," the ghost of his love smiles. She's in her bomber jacket full of patches, a white tee, and jean shorts.

    "Nicole," he kisses her, something he wished he had done his whole life.

    "I missed you. We have a lot to catch up on," she smiles, leading him through a door and away from the flowers.

    Catch up they did. Goose took a bit to warm up to Bob, but Mav and Gatsby had told him so many stories about Bob, it was hard to dislike the kid. Bob was instantly welcomed to flights with everyone, and Carole took him on as a volleyball partner. Bob joined Goose and Gatsby when they went to do their pranking shenanigans on the physical plane. Phoenix and Rooster had never been more scared in their old age.

     One by one more bases were established in the afterlife as their friends joined them. However, the Kazansky/Mitchell/Bradshaw base was by far the most popular due to beach volleyball, routine flights, and Penny’s afterlife version of the Hard Deck. 

[misaverawrites]

Upon The Night (Alucard x Reader) - Chapter Three

tags: bonding, Alucard deserved better tbh, i'm basically rewriting s.4 at this point, weapons, parental death mentions, death mentions.

summary: You and Alucard share things with one another and prepare for a battle.

a/n: I made a playlist! It's in the works for the series but, I'm very excited to share it with you guys! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0tTeeHEyKesHwrQ8Y9fnzu ALSO!! I FUCKING GRADUATED YESTERDAY AAAAAA!!!!

Alucard was possibly crazy, you had elected for that. He described a plan that could only be thought up by an absolute madman. How long had he been alone in that castle exactly? It was a worthy question considering this plan, which you had watched him quizzically as he described this plan, it sounded like something from a long-lost Belmont family monster hunting book or something… “My father had a collection of weaponry, from armies he defeated… We will salt the blades, do you have a priest in town? For holy water?” You and Greta look at one another and back to the dhampir, who actually seems almost excited. You watch as his eyes are wide with an amount of child-like glee. It makes you smile to yourself as he continues a diatribe on strategy. “Truthfully, it sounds dangerous, but there are few other options. Despite the fact that you seem half-crazy and you do strongly smell like a winery, you seem committed, and I admire that.”  Alucard laughs a small bit at the jab, but there’s a look in his eyes that doesn’t escape you. Greta walks away from your meeting to go prepare for the battle that will come at nightfall but not before instructing the two of you to leave quickly and get as many weapons as will fit in the wagon.

“I need to say goodbye to my sister before we leave if that is alright with you?” You look at Alucard and he gives you a nod as he goes off to the wagon, you feel his eyes on you however as you lift your sister up to your waist, “I promise, I will be back before anything happens, love.” You watch as she tries to put on a brave face for you, “Edi, stay with the village elders, they will take care of you… I promise.” You wrap your pinky finger around hers as she sniffles a bit, running off. You sigh worriedly, you just wanted to keep her safe in the wake of all of this hell, especially after both of your parents died in earlier attacks on Danesti. You dare to look back at your sister, knowing tears threaten to fall from your eyes. She’s why you’ve kept going, why you went in search of Alucard. Now, you couldn’t help but feel like you were abandoning her at this moment, but you shook that off as you climbed onto the wagon, Alucard’s hand catching onto your own before you were able to fall off of it and hurt yourself. You offer him a smile, “Thank you, Alucard.” You say, as he shakes his head, “It wouldn’t be good for you to hurt yourself, you’ve got people you need to protect.” He has a smile on his face and you roll your eyes, “Alucard, you have people you have to protect now too. They’ll all be grateful when the time comes down to it, I know they will.” He sighs and shakes his head, “I don’t care about that, but, watching you and your sister, almost makes me long for the idea of siblings. My mother and father always planned on having more children but…” You nod, placing your hand on top of his, deciding that no words could help in this situation.

The silence between the two of you is more comfortable than on your first wagon ride, his hand doesn’t move from underneath yours. You look over to him, “Alucard you don’t have to share these things with me, especially if they’re troubling.” He simply shakes his head, squeezing your hand a bit in a nervous gesture, “It doesn’t trouble me specifically, in fact, I feel as though I can trust you. I haven’t felt able to trust humans in a long while, but, I cannot help but think you’re different.” Humans. It’s a heavy word, you almost forgot about his near-immortality and it makes you feel a bit troubled. You trust Alucard, he’s willing to help save your village and it’s something you will always be grateful for, however, his half-vampire side… what would happen to you if you got close? Who would become your enemy? You perish the thought quicker than it appears, now isn’t the time. “Thank you, Alucard, It means a lot coming from you. That kind of trust is something I have missed, it’s genuine. Hold onto that, it’s one of the plus sides of humanity, in a way.” He chuckles at your impromptu advice to him, but he does appreciate it. “I will keep that in mind.” The way that you both talk, as if you were old friends, took your mind off of the fact that there was going to be an assault on your village tonight. People were going to die, bloody deaths even when you got the weapons you were fetching into their hands and strategy into effect. The carriage suddenly stops and you both sit there in front of the dark, looming castle. It was your haven once before and you can’t help but think that that time was not the last time it will protect you or even your entire village. You step off of the carriage and as you and Alucard walk to the castle’s armory and weapons reserve you both begin to talk together again, “Do you have any other siblings? Besides your sister?” Alucard asks you and you shrug a bit, leaning your head one way and then the other, “Not technically but, all of the orphans are practically raised by all of us. Since my parents died, we all have taken care of one another, fuck, even before. It takes a village as they say.” Alucard nods, “I always understood what it’s like to be alone, despite having family, at least they will always have… someone.” You watch Alucard and as he says this, you begin to understand. He had loving, kind parents, but now that they were gone… It all went out the window, he’d been betrayed time and time again and it broke him, you could see it without him even telling you. It was in his eyes, the grief, the fear, he didn’t belong with vampires or humans and it killed him. He still carried himself, and as he carried the weapons alongside you in trips, back and forth to the wagon, you noticed how he’d almost improved, even in the two days you’d known him when you’d met him he seemed much sadder, and despite some of the sorrow he’d show in moments, you looked back at how happy he seemed when you were planning with Greta and him, how happy he was to be apart of something bigger than himself.

Sooner than later, you both had finished with the weapons and you were both ready to leave, the sun stood over you, leaving you just enough time to make it back to the village before nightfall. “I don’t mean to pry but where did you learn all of that strategy? Just from being the son of Dracula or..?” He chuckles a bit as he spurs the horses, “Well, a bit of that is from my father, but some of that is from Belmont, he was… oddly excellent at it despite being a stupid drunkard.” He chuckles a bit but you cannot help but look at him in shock, “Belmont, like the family? The monster hunting family that was excommunicated from the church?” He nods and you stare at him, wide-eyed, like a deer about to get hit by a wagon. He looks at you for just a moment before laughing, a laugh that you haven’t heard in that way, it takes all of the air from your lungs and brings you back to Earth, “Don’t laugh! It’s surprising! Your life is so incredible!” He shakes his head, “I’m not laughing at you, I apologize. It’s just that I forget how people get to live normally without monster fighting and vampiric power struggles. I guess I just envy you for that. It’s simple.” You shake your head, “It’s a short, miserable life for some. Living for the church, not being able to better ourselves, you’re seeing my life from the outside, as I’m seeing yours.” The ride becomes silent as you both seem to stew with your thoughts, the hot afternoon of late summer turns into the evening that is until something hits you.

“Vampiric Power Struggles?!” You ask him, astonished once more when your mind comes back to the point, gaining another laugh out of him as you continue your ride to Danesti, your conversations continuing into the evening, despite the nagging that your mind is giving you that after tonight, nothing will ever be the same for you or for your village as a whole.

[risingsh0t]

👪🌙🌌📏☄️ and 💗 for Cecilia?

👪 What is their family like? what is your ocs relationship to them? does your oc have any siblings?

Cecilia doesn't have a ton of family. Unfortunately, both her parents passed before she was five years old, she didn't even have a name. Heimerdinger became her adoptive father after a chance encounter, he felt a connection to her and could tell she had a curious nature. Their father/daughter relationship is pretty strained for a while, with Cecilia feeling too confined, so she spends a lot of time in the undercity (where she was born). They're on better terms by progress day in act 2! Cecilia and Viktor are close childhood friends (to lovers 🤡) and she has sibling-like relationships with Jayce and Ekko.

🌙 What is your oc's greatest wish? How far are they willing to go for it?

Hmm that's a tough one! I think she has a similar dream to others in wanting to better the undercity. She wants everyone to have the opportunity to follow their own dreams or better themselves (what she's trying to do herself). I wouldn't say she's willing to do anything drastic for it, just trying to help in the best way she can as an individual. It's why she takes to tinkering; to build helpful mechanical creatures, limbs, & other devices.

🌌 What was the inspiration behind your oc? What was the first thing you decided about them?

I was very inspired by the arcane ocs I was seeing on my dash! People were interweaving them with the story so cleverly. During my rewatch, I decided I wanted an oc that had a connection with Viktor (🤡), but just based within the show as I've never delved into LoL lore. The first thing I decided was her name! I loved the sound of Cecilia and promptly realized Heimerdinger's first name is Cecil… so I thought it would be fun to do an adoptive parent (arcane classic) backstory and have him name her after himself 👹

📏 Is your oc well educated? Where did they get their learning from?

Despite her habit of skipping lessons and not always giving 100% of her attention, she's still well educated. With Heimerdinger for a father, it was a combination of individual lessons at home and attending Piltover Academy. When it comes to her tinkering it's mostly a lot of trial and error.

☄️ What do people assume about them? are they right?

They probably assume she's kind of aloof and ungrateful. They wouldn't be completely wrong about the ungratefulness. Around the time of act 2 she's started to mature and think about life/her experiences in a different way than when she was younger. The aloof assumption is wrong though; even if she was a rebellious youth, she's always been a warm person with a kind heart and good intentions. She's just not comfortable with strangers.

💗 If they have a crush, is it noticeable? What changes when they're in love?

Definitely not. She hasn't really had a crush on anyone else besides Viktor (which has lasted YEARS) and not many have noticed. Although we know Viktor wouldn't notice it anyway 😵‍💫 Honestly once it morphs into love, it's probably more noticable! She's less nervous and overthink-y, her gaze is more…tender and soft.

[raineydays411]

My Father's daughter pt1

Summary: After the disastrous gala, you get an unexpected visit from your “mother”and her family. 

A/n: Hello so I feel like the mom character should have a name, so from here on out, your mother's name is Christine. Also i hope y’all like this one cause i feel like it’s going kinda slow.

Growing up was rough. 

Because your mother decided that you and Tony weren’t worth the effort, you had to mature pretty quickly. You’re father had fallen into this deep depression, where he can barely take care of himself. You had to make sure that your father woke up on time for meetings, made sure he ate, drank water, and inevitably had to make sure that he didn’t choke on his own vomit when he got shitfaced. 

Needless to say, you were very mature for nine years old.

But then, a light in the form of Virginia Potts came into your lives. She saw the way you had taken on the role of Tonys caregiver, and was heartbroken. At first she thought it was just pure negligence from Tonys end, but as she spent more time with the both of you, she realized that Tony loved you more than anything in this world. So she stuck around. 

At first you were weary of her. Not really trusting towards older woman, or motherly figures as you were scorned once. But she never gave up. Not on you or your father. No, she stayed even when you would run away on under her watch. She stayed even when you would try and steal your fathers cars for a quick joy ride through Manhattan. And she stayed when you broke down after your mother had people come pick up all her belongings from the Tower, not bothering to come herself and say goodbye. 

She didn’t leave. She held you as you screamed and sobbed as the men packed away everything she owned. She held you even when you squirmed and scratched at her arms to get away. And she held you as you gave up and silently cried then eventually fell asleep, tightly clutching her midsection. 

That's when you started to come around. You stopped running away whenever your father would leave you with her, wouldn’t talk back when she asked you to pick up a mess, and you even helped her out when some creep intern decided to put the moves on her during a company meeting. 

It wasn’t until your father went missing when you truly saw her as someone you could trust. It was the worst three months of your life.  Another parent gone suddenly from your life. You were relocated to mansion in Malibu, a big empty place where the halls echoed as you walked through them. ANd you had thought that Pepper was going to stay back in New York, she wasn’t your assistant after all. You were shocked to see her at the airport, suitcase in tow with a determined look.

Seeing the look of surprise on your face she stated,

“ I’m not going to let you do this alone.” ,then grabbed your hand to lead you through terminal.

You were grateful that she only acknowledged your tears when you were in the privacy of the private jet. She rubbed your back as you let the tears run down your face. The whole three months that you were in her care, your perspective changed.

She asked about your day, made sure you ate, tucked you in and held you whenever you had nightmares. With in that three month period, Pepper showed you what it was like to have a mother again. And she never let you down. 

Then your dad came home, and your family was complete. You were ecstatic when they started dating and even more so when your father announced that they were going to get engaged.

And even though it took years, you finally trusted Pepper enough to see her as your mother. You were happy. 

Which is why you were extra pissed when you came home from your mother-daughter day and saw your biological mother with Bruce Wayne in the common room. They were sitting on the couch and were getting glared at by the Avengers that were home from missions,(Natasha, Steve, and Sam). 

“Dad, what’s going on?” You ask, looking past the hopeful and curious gazes from the couch. 

“Kid, I think you better sit down.” Tony said through slightly clenched teeth. His face was grim, as he looked past you and made eye contact with Pepper. They had a silent conversation with their eyes, and she nodded. She squeezed your shoulders and took your bags, then with a quick glare she had the rest of the room cleared except for the four of you. 

You took a seat across from your mother, Christine and Bruce. She sent a smile your way and was met with a blank look, “ Dad, what’s going on?”

He sighs and makes his way over to were you were seated, “I don’t know, Christine, maybe you should explain.” 

His tone indicated that he knew why she was here, but wanted her to sound stupid. Pepper came over and sat on the t other side of you. 

Christine glanced at the Pepper and cleared her throat, “Perhaps should be kept between family?”

You scoffed, “ Considering that Pep has been around longer than you ever have been, you have no right to decide who’s family to me and whos not.” 

You see Pepper sit up straighter with pride and mother slump. 

You sigh, “ What are you doing here?” 

She looks at Bruce, who you honestly forgot was still there, “ Y/n...I want you to come home with us.” 

A silence filled the room. You felt Pepper tense up at the words and saw your dads and clench into a fist. 

You however just stared in utter disbelief. 

“What.” 

“I know it's far fetched.” Your mother starts, ignoring your scoff, “ But i really do think it would benefit you to come to Gotham with us, and get to know your siblings!” 

You were seething. 

“My siblings? You mean the family that you left us for.”

“Y/n that’s not-”

“No, You think that you can just waltz into my home, after nine years of absolutely no contact, no birthday cards, not even a text to let me know that you were alive, and expect me to what? Just welcome you into open arms? Leave MY family and go live with you?? Really?”  You say with a scoff.

“Y/n there is a ot of factors you are not considering” Bruce chimes in for the first time.

You turn your glare onto him, “ And what you’re just okay with the fact that your wife has a whole other child who she just fucking abandoned?

“Language.” Your father mutters causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Well, I can’t say this didn’t come as a shock.” Bruce states, “ But, I also know that I love my wife, and that I would welcome you to our home.”

Your throat was hurting with the amount if times you’ve scoffed, “ And I appreciate that, really, but I would never leave my family. Especially not for her.”

Christine's eyes start to tear up, “ Y/n please, a girl needs her mother.”

Those words triggered the anger inside you. Your blood boiled and you can tell that she knew she messed up. 

“Oh? Is that right? What about when I was six and I waited for you to come and take me to that mother's day dance, only you never showed up and I went with my nanny. Or when I was eight and you promised that you would take me to get my ears pierced but then you got a phone call and left so dad took me?” 

You saw the tears run down her face as Bruce looked like he was thinking about something.

“Oh and what about when I was nine. I was nine and you promised to take me to the park. You remember that? Cause I do.” 

Tony tenses next to you, knowing what you were about to say.

“Y/n I can never apologize enough but-” You cut her off

“I was NINE and your promised to take me to the park” You continue, “ But you left. And this time you didn’t come back.” You finish and lean forward, “ Tell me, why the HELL would you think that I would want to come live with you and your fucking family?”

The room was once again engulfed in a tense silence. The only sounds were the sniffling of your mother. 

“You’re my baby girl...my petal. I love you and always have...” She starts, “ My biggest regret is leaving you that day and you have to know that Y/n.”

You feel tears start to rise, a knot in your throat. 

Peppers hand squeezes yours and you calm down and say

“Then you’re gonna have to learn to live with it.” 

Then you stand up and walk right out of the room. Leaving the adults and marching straight to the training rooms to let out some steam. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back in the common room, a tense silence weighed on the adults. It seemed like no one knew exactly what to say, or they didn’t want to speak up.

Only when Tony cleared his throat did Christine speak up again.

“I didn’t come to cause any trouble.” she said quietly.

“What did you think would happen?”Tony says crossing his arms, “Surely you didn’t expect her to leave with you?”

“No Tony I didn’t. I just thought she would’ve considered it. I am still her mother.”

Pepper snorted, causing the attention to turn to her.

Christine's eyes narrowed, “ And who exactly are you to my daughter?”

Tony tensed, knowing not to mess with Pepper especially when it came to you. He sat back and waited for mamma bear to come out.

Pepper sent a glare her way, “ Me? I’m just the woman who has been raising her for the past nine years.”

Before Christine can get another word on Pepper continued on,

“ I don’t know who you think you are, but you have put Y/n and Tony through a lot of turmoil throughout the years. And now you think you can come in here and demand forgiveness from them?? That’s not happening.”

Bruce started to speak up, “I understand the pain you're family must have gone through, and I am sorry about my...unknowing participation, but Christine is willing to work on her relationship with her daughter.”

Now Tony started speaking, “why? Why now? Y/n is practically an adult, she doesn’t need you anymore. Not like she did before.”

“I’m her mother.” Christine said stubbornly, “ She’ll always need her mother.”

“And she has one. Just not you.” Pepper said standing from her spot, “ I think it’s time for you two to leave. I have to go comfort MY daughter.”

And with that Pepper made her way to the door where you disappeared, knowing exactly where you are. But before she left, she turned and said

“It was lovely to meet you Mrs. Wayne”

and left, leaving Tony to show them to the elevator.

[dienamights]

A Reverberate Lullaby | K.Bakugou

✎ The echoing howls stalk you, a ghost hunched on your shoulders, wailing like a child calling for rescue, who cries with no tears. Chanting for a hero that is willing to pick up the pieces of its soul and being, yet it is only left to wither. For the ghost has lost faith that such others exist and can only be cured by finding them, for you are the ghost of your world and love is the only true exorcist.

✎ Protagonists: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader.

✎ Word count: 4.1K

✎ Category: hurt/comfort, Implied Mature Content MDNI, Prohero!au, Established relationship!au

✎ Caution(!): Implied Mature Content MDNI, mention of depressive state, toxic family, toxic coping mechanism, mention of reader’s weight gain and thoughts about self worth. Please keep in mind while every person’s reaction to depression is different, don’t belittle anyone’s battle when you don’t understand it.

✎ Author’s notes: Hello! Hope everyone’s taking care! Still on hiatus BUT I’m here to post my contribution to the Mental Health Awareness collab by @doinmybesthere​ ! This has been in the works for a while because I kept scarping ideas for triggering me lmao. This piece is very personal to me and I’m glad I am able to share my experience with you all, I hope that it might help anyone out there in reaching out and asking for help because I know how difficult and scary it might be! Please check out everyone’s contribution that they worked so hard for! kisses kisses take care!

OOH ALSO! Thank you so much for 900 followers aaaaaah! You’re all so amazing and if anyone has suggestions for an event to hold in June lemme know! I’ll also think of some ideas

» Masterlist | Requests | Taglist

The morning sun barely rises and peaks through your blinds, sunshine starting to kiss at your cheeks as you squint at the light, the room welcoming the warmth that is being brought into it after the evening’s chill that made you curl tighter in on yourself, clasping whatever heat you could muster than to turn around and find it in the heating pad of a body that lays next to you. 

An alarm only just rings before quickly being shut off, followed by the creaking of the bed when the person behind you shifts, shifts again, another time, before getting up and stalking to the bathroom, after letting an elongated sigh when they sit at the edge of the bed, not acknowledging your presence accompanying theirs. The door clicking closed before the trickling of water fills the quiet room.

Your clock reads 5 am when you squint at it, and you blink at the time before you go on with your routine, setting up breakfast while your boyfriend gets ready to go to work. 

Oddly enough, you don’t really quite remember when you started working on the food, all that you could see in front of you is nothing but a scene that looks like it’s out of a broken TV - there’s just so much static. The voices are distorted, as if they’re coming from a defective radio.

“Listen, this ain’t about me, this is about you and how you-”

“What about me? Huh? That you see me as nothing but a burden? No, you can say it-”

“You wanna hear me fuckin’ say it then fine! This is about you sitting on yer ass all day obsessing over her while she wouldn’ give you the time of day y/n. When will you fuckin’ realize that?”

The scene blurs and sways, and you feel your mind run at a speed you didn’t know it could muster, and you’re unable to keep up with it. The knife in your hand shakes vigorously and barely misses your fingers when you bring it down to cut the vegetables.

The sound of the bedroom door shutting closed alerts you, straightening your back when you hear the drop of your boyfriend’s gauntlet by his chair at the dining table. Katsuki approaches you with careful steps, his still ungloved hand circles your waist before pressing his lips to your temple, a gruff greeting of a whisper laced in between.

“G’morning.”

The familiar scent of caramel mixed in with his aftershave welcomes you, wraps around you and cradles you, promising everlasting safety and happiness. Yet, your heart wrenching sobs and muffled crash of your laptop against your floor that rings in your ears tell a different story, shrieking at you, roaring about your failures, mocking your entire existence.

“Made gohan, should be ready in a minute.” you mumble back, posture stiff at the close proximity of Katsuki and you feel the curl of his lips in displeasure pressing into your temple from both not reciprocating his greeting and your choice of meal for the morning. “You don’ eat gohan,” 

“s’why I’m making it.” The quick retreat from your figure is like a slap to your face, and you barely stop yourself from reaching out and forcing his arms back around you. Because it's the bite in his voice that halts your movement. 

“You’re still going?” you finally turn to take a look at him, the garnets in his eyes shifting, bleeding from hurt, betrayal, confusion, you really weren’t sure. And by God you had no energy left to try and figure out. “Yes I’m still going Katsuki, they’re my-”

“Yer really listenin’ to the bullshit spillin’ outta ya? This isn’t about em being your family y/n, we’ve been through with it already.” the space between you two feels like endless miles, pieces of the broken bridge you both worked so hard to build the only evidence of it ever being there, the rest crumbling into the valley in between your bodies.

“No, you’ve been through with it, I just wanna make things right, m-maybe I can fix it”

“It ain’t yours to fix y/n, when will you realize that?”

“No!” there you go again, sobbing pathetically. “W-why can’t I have a family, huh? Why- why can’t I, fuck, have a family that just loves and supports me a-and just doesn’t- ” your voice croaks, not failing to notice how Katsuki stepped away from the wreck in front of him. Probably having had enough of you, had enough of how troubling and bothersome you are, probably wondering how he got roped with all your shit and got dragged into your mess of a life.

His hands feel like scolding fire when they’re placed on your shoulders, halting their shaking as you cry into the palm of your hand to muffle the sobs, a habit Katsuki has been working so hard on to help you overcome, saddened to see you try and hide your vulnerability from him.

“Because they never made an effort, so why should you?” The tugging at your heart burns, the swallowed sobs feel like needles prickling at your lungs, making breathing feel like an impossible chore. You can’t help but feel restrained whenever you’re presented with the truth, especially unfiltered and unsugarcoated like right now, you know he’s right, you’ve known he was right a long time ago, but admitting it out loud just felt borderline impossible. 

So you do what you do best, push him away, all the strength you can muster barely budges his figure, the meal forgotten on the counter as you run and lock the bedroom door on yourself.

Your footsteps feel heavy, dreading the topics and scenes you’re bound to relive. The grip on the strap of your shoulder bag tightening as you push the glass door open. A sigh escapes past your lips again as you enter the restaurant, half-heartedly smiling at the hostess before making your way inside to look for them.

It’s always the same scenery, the kind that always makes you want to run away to the other direction instead of being dragged down into whatever hell this is. And you pause to question yourself, again, why you actually agreed to put yourself out there.

There they are, seated in the four person table, with two empty seats, one for yourself and the other for the sibling your mother always hoped to have instead of you.

Your mother’s pursed lip could be seen from where you stand at the entrance, the clicking of her tapping foot sounding as bad as grinding metals in your ear, you hate it, despise it

It’s the same clicking you learned to memorize, to anticipate, to fear, when she passed by your room, the clicking that made you smother your face in your pillows and swallow your sobs, because the sound of you crying brought her more distress and annoyance than concern for her daughter.

With another tug at the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, you approach the table, hugging your father when he stands up and nodding to your mom when she eyes your figure.

“Good morning mother. It’s good to see you.”

“What’s wrong with your hair?”

Here we go, you breathe out before tugging at a strand of hair, spitting out your words “nothing’s wrong with it.”

“Then why does it look awful like that?”

There are times like these where you are left to question your reasoning for accepting whatever invitation you received from your parents to have brunch with them after all those months, a moment of weakness deceiving you into believing it was better than to spend it in your empty apartment, with the silence that ate away at your sanity every second. The only evidence of life in it other than yours was the recently cleaned dishes and the note thanking you for the meal, the promise of cuddles and movies tonight making you gain just a little more patience, barely.

You refrain from answering, your response is to lower your head, drag the dining chair before plopping on it, a dreary sigh escaping your lips as you scoot your chair closer to the table. Your mother never changes, it’s been a while since you were able to move out of her home, and while your father tries to tell you that these brunches are a way to reconnect with them, you yourself know that it’s merely a chance for your mother to nitpick at everything you ever did or are doing since you left.

“How have you been y/n.” your father smiles at you, both of you ignoring the sound of your mother kissing her teeth when her attempted jab at you is ignored. “Uh, I uh I’ve been good, I just wrapped up with my exams and so far things have been-” 

“How is your hero boyfriend?” 

For a second, you contemplate whether to ignore her question and keep conversing with your dad, dreading the questions that are to be pushed your way regarding Katsuki, of which will be used as bragging material for when she meets whatever group of friends she associates herself with, but you know better than to ignore her with the way she gets when she isn’t fed with attention. 

“He’s uh, good.”

“Why isn’t he here today? What, too good to meet us?” your mother nags, and for the love of God, would that fucking clicking ever stop?

“No, he’s doing his job of, you know, being a hero.”

“Is he now? Well, what about you, hm?” She cocks her head as her nails tap the table. ”Did you think your father and I wouldn’t figure out you got fired?”

“How-” the gritting of your teeth is deafening at this point, your jaw clenching so tightly as you and your mother stare each other down. “Your dad pulled some strings, it isn’t that hard. So tell me, you like leeching off of him after you were done with us?”

“This isn’t, I just- I was- I, I had a lot of university work piling up a-and I couldn’t make time for my shifts and I just, it was just so hard for me to get out of bed these days and I.” why are you doing this? Why are you explaining yourself to people that don’t deserve it? Why are you feeding off of their acceptance, knowing damn well you never got it, and that thing was never gonna change. 

“Oh, I don’t wanna hear about you not getting out of bed, you’re here now aren’t you? This is all in your head y/n. You need to stop talking nonsense, what’re people gonna say about you, about me, when they hear you?” 

It feels just like yesterday, your figure standing and facing your full length mirror, your reflection eyeing you with identical vacant eyes. Fingers running through your bed head, a wince escaping you at the movement. Bringing your hand up and catching a glimpse of a slight swollen purple bruise along your wrist and the dried blood on your knuckles, the skin stretching upon rotating your wrist and causing notable pain.

Alas, that pain paled in comparison to when your mom barged into your room, blaming you for the way you were acting and belittling your reasoning. Beckoning your father over to replace your broken vanity and for your house maid to disinfect the space, the place sparkling clean and void of any evidence of what had transpired the day prior. 

The shattered glass was picked up and thrown out, the splatters of blood were wiped clean, and whenever you brought up, what your mom refers to as ‘the temper tantrum’, you’re ignored by both your parents as they continued about their day, fearing the shame it would bring upon their name if the event was to catch others’ attention. 

“Good morning! I’ll be your server for the day. What can I get you?” the foreign voice sounds more comforting than your own mother’s, and you almost laugh at the irony of it, but you only return her smile and take a look at the menu. Lighting up a smidge at the name of one of the dishes, while your parents place their order.

“Can I please get the soufflé pancake?” you look up to catch the horrified look on your mother’s face, followed by her clicking her tongue and shaking her head as if your choice of food was shameful. 

“Certainly-”

“Uh, no she won’t be having that. Get her the Honzen Ryori,” your mother eyed your figure -whatever was visible to her from across the table- before turning to face the server again “maybe cut down on the rice, God knows she doesn’t need the extra calories.” and waves her off, disregarding your protests and tapping her nail against the table top, her annoying method in demanding your silence, which you subconsciously react to, snapping your mouth shut when the sound reaches your ears.

“What was that for? You know I like having sweet breakfasts,” was fuming even close to what you are feeling? Probably not. “Yes I can clearly see that, you’ve let yourself go as well. Do you think that boyfriend of yours will stick around when you start putting on even more weight?”

At a loss for words, you turn to your father, who has been quiet this whole time, for any sense of support when it comes to his wife. But the way he presses his lips together tells you all you need to know, how just because he isn’t bad as her, doesn’t make him that great of a parent. That standing by while you have been bullied your entire childhood and well into your adulthood is just as bad as being the cause of it. 

“God forbid he realizes how much of a train wreck you really are and throws you on the side of the street, because you know damn well we won’t be here to pick you up.”

It began as a whispering in the air. The day had been beautiful -well, as beautiful as it can be with the kind of day you’re having- and the sky was like a dome of plasma-blue. The clouds had looked like airy anvils drifting under the gleaming disc of sun. People quickened their pace as the clouds began to gather in the sky. The postcard-perfect sky started changing. The beautiful cocktail-blue shade merged in with the flaming orange and mesmerizing purple as the sun sunk deep into the horizon, before beginning to darken into gravel-grey. Large pillows of cloud start to form, blocking out the old-gold color of the sun.

The first splatter of rain hits you when you’re halfway across the street, dismissing the need to take shelter under the roof of the buildings like some passersby are doing, hoping to see out the shower. Droplets of moisture begin to drip onto your head, sprinkling onto you like a gardener’s hose. It was well after your meal with your parents, and you had spent the last few hours walking aimlessly through the streets, making sure to avoid those covered by your boyfriend during his patrol. Hoping, praying, that something will clear your head, will help your poor jumbled mess of a mind forget about this entire nightmare of a day.

Should’ve listened to him 

The rainfall intensifies, the drops drumming against the hood of the cars that you pass by, there is so much rain that the sound blurs into one long, whirring noise, reminding you of the blades of the fan that you stuck your finger in, that one time when you were left alone in your house when you were only five years of age. Eventually, they fade into a musical chime as you push your drenched hair away from your face and feel the vibration from your phone as it rings the ninth, maybe tenth time. 

He told me so. 

Tall apartment complex building; you couldn’t see its end from where you stand. You shiver as you approach it, the doorman - bless his heart - running and placing his umbrella to futilely shield you from the rain, and you just laugh and tell him that you’re already drenched and just waiting to go back home.

God forbid he realizes how much of train wreck I am

Not wanting to dampen the people at the elevator and make them uncomfortable, you take the stairs up to your shared apartment, you usually don't mind the exercise but with how heavy you feel after the rain and day spent up on your sore feet, all you think about is locking yourself in your room and discover what kind of new façade could you try and fool Katsuki with when he reaches home.

Just how I trick him into thinking I’m not with him to leech off of him

Eventually and with a struggle, you make it to the door, dreading the sight you might come to face, almost hoping for a black hole to emerge and swallow you whole.

What would people say about me? Do people think I’m crazy?

With a forced exhale out of your lungs, you fetch the key from your bag to unlock the door, but it’s wrenched open before you have a chance to insert your key.

“Where the hell have you been?” 

Your eyes meet the beautiful rubies of Katsuki, and despite his anger that always overcompensates his worry, you smile and throw yourself on him. The shivering ceasing when he wraps his warm arms around you and that loving caramel scent engulfs you, in spite of how your hair is drenching his shirt and how you sniff against his neck.

“You need a shower, you’re shivering.”

“Take one with me?” you look up at him through your lashes, and he blinks at your uncharacterized boldness but agrees nonetheless, helping you out of your clothes and turning on the hot water before stepping in with you.

It is a struggle to help you clean up when all you do is grab at him, whether they’re your hands on his shoulders to lower him to kiss you, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your breasts against him, or palming his hardening cock as the poor man tries to shampoo your hair.

“Would ya knock it off? I’m tryna help you here shitty woman” you frown and squint your eyes when the shampoo gets close to them. “I wanna have sex.” 

“Yea I can fuckin tell, just lemme-” you bring his arms down and press his palms to your boobs, letting go of his wrist when he starts squeezing at them. “Do you not want to?” he gulps, his dick twitching at the feeling of your soft mounds in his hands, your nipples covered up by the suds from the shampoo, as your finger traces the underside of his cock. “Yeah, I uh, fuck, I do, just- you need to wash up so you don’t get sick, alright?”

“Do you not think I’m pretty anymore?” you pout childishly, tears threatening to escape your eyes, and they burn as you close them when he washes the product out of your hair, a deep frown on his lips when you open your eyes back again. “The fuck you on about? That rain really fucked with ya?”

“Are you gonna get rid of me when you realize how much of a mess I am?” you whisper, your voice muffled under the sound of the shower above you, and you keep quiet as he helps you scrub your body, but your boyfriend is observant, he isn’t fucking dense.

“What do you want, right now?” he lowers himself to your level when he’s done, his hands stroking your cheeks as he eyes the way the water droplets cling to your lashes, but still not missing the red rimming around your eyes.

“I just wanna for- I uh, I wanna have sex.” you mumble, a plea hidden underneath your words, a plea to help you forget, to help you bury this day behind you and pretend it never happened.

What you don’t expect is the way that Katsuki pulls your naked wet body out of the bathroom and drops you on the bed, feeling your bodies dampening the bed as he hovers over you, no words are spoken between you as he kisses and nips at your skin. Marking it up and down as he all but worships your body, strands of his hair tangle between your fingers when you run your hands through it, arching your back at the feeling of his tongue tasting your slick.

He doesn’t let up until you cry out, and not in pleasure, your sobs far beyond those he loves to hear when he’s denying you an orgasm. No, they’re sobs that wreck your whole body, kicking away at his shoulders as you curl in on yourself and wail into the sheets. Sitting on his haunches on the floor, Katsuki’s eye soften at your figure, the way your shoulders are shaking and how -yet again- you’re trying to muffle your cries with the sheets this time, pressing your face against the mattress in an attempt to lower your noise, as your mother would call it.

“Hey, look at me” you feel his lips grazing your ear as he kisses it, pressing his lips against your temple, fingers unwrapping your fist against the sheet and digging into your hands and pressing kisses against the nail marks in the palm of your hands. “There she is, there’s my girl.” you hear when you lift your head from the bed, sight blurry from your shed tears but still easy to distinguish Katsuki even between billions of people.

You sniff when he kisses at your lids, groan when he chuckles and calls you ‘snot the naught’ when you wipe your nose with the back of your hand, beaming when he hears you let out one weak chuckle at the way he teases you. Still pressing his lips against any surface of skin he can reach.

“You don’t have to talk about it you know, to me at least” he mumbles to you when you’re both dressed in your sleepwear and are cuddling on the dry side of the bed, opting to change the sheet the next day. “Maybe, maybe we can get someone who can help you, you know.” you press your face deeper between his neck and shoulder, shuddering when his warm palms rub your back from under your shirt. 

“I can make some calls, get in contact with someone.” you lift your head. “But I can’t afford-” he tuts and frowns at you “None of that.” 

“Remember what I said when we agreed to move in?” you do, you just love the sound of his voice when he says it, feels like he’s making all these promises all over again. “Tell me.”

“Told ya I’d be whoever you want me to be, whoever you need me to be. I’ll be yer mom, even better than that bitch, I’ll support and love you unconditionally.” you sniff and tighten your hold against him as he presses his lips against your cheek. 

“I’d be better than yer pussy dad, you can rely on me any time and I’ll live up to all your expectations. And callin me daddy is always a plus” he tangles his legs with your own when you wiggle away from him, laughing and giving you no chance of escape, not that you are even thinking of it. 

“I’d even be yer genius fuckin nanny that taught you to tell yer mom to go fuck herself when you were four,” your suppressed giggles lights him up and he can’t help but chuckle as well. “I’ll be anything and everything you’ll ever need, baby. I’ll be your goddamn hero.”

The sun comes out again, casting slanted beams of light across the buildings. Steam rises slowly from the greenery. It rises up eerily and drifts mist-like towards the molten-gold sun, right before it escapes into the abyss. The image is so vivid that it stays with you for as long as you remember. Because on this exact day, the shrieking that follows you everywhere you go, haunting you and mocking you, suddenly is nowhere to be found. And all you can hear is the comforting sound of Katsuki as he hums you a lullaby to sleep.

aaaah I hope you like it!

[misscarolineshelby]

Roommates – Part Sixteen

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words:1,876

Warning: Fluff, Smut

Note: This plays in 2020. It’s all fiction and not based on Cillian’s real life and family.

A week had passed since you told Cillian that you loved him and, whilst you were strongly under the influence of pain medication, you remembered it.

You had, in fact, developed strong feelings for him and whilst the words left your lips accidentally when you were drowsy and half asleep, you were somewhat disappointed by the fact that he didn’t say anything.

Of course, he didn’t share the same feelings for you, you knew that much. You’ve been friends for so many years that you could hardly be surprised that he liked you as a friend and for sex, but nothing else. But, what you had expected was that he would say something, anything at all, even if it was simply confirming what you already knew.

***

You did tell your sister about it and, whilst you were surprised by the feelings you had so suddenly developed for your long-time friend, she wasn’t surprised at all.

She saw it coming as soon as she found out that you were sleeping with each other and she believed that you always had some sort of feelings for him.

In the same vein, she was sure that he felt the same about you and was probably reluctant to tell you and, with that in mind, you continued on as usual and acted as if nothing had happened.

You weren’t willing to give up your friendship and the amazing sex you have for maybes and thought that, if your sister was right, he would come around eventually, at least so you hoped.

***

Then, another week had passed and nothing had changed. At least so you thought.

Cillian asked you whether you wanted to travel to Cork with him to see his parents now that Ireland, once again, came out of lockdown and visits to family were permitted provided that you had a permit.

‘I don’t think I can Cillian. Only spouses’ you said, pointing to the pamphlet he had printed out from the Irish Covid Information website.

‘Well, we are living together, you can pretend to be my girlfriend if the police pulls us over’ he chuckled, before pleading with you.

‘You just want me to drive, don’t you’ you then said and he nodded. He hated driving long distances and it didn’t help that he had only gotten his drivers licence five years ago and failed his driving test three times when he moved back to Dublin.

‘I suppose it’s safer if I drive…so yes, I am coming’ you said somewhat amused.

‘Should I ask Ma to prepare two or one room for us?’ Cillian then asked and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

‘Your mother is strictly catholic and I suppose that the answer to your question depends on what you are willing to reveal to her about our little arrangement’ you joked and, of course, Cillian hadn’t even thought that far.

‘Two bedrooms’ he then confirmed before picking up the phone to let his mother know that you would be coming with him.

***

Three days later, you hit the road for the three-and-a-half-hour drive to Cork after you both had received a negative COVID test result which you took as a precaution.

As usual, Cillian’s mother was excited about the visit and you were excited too. You hadn’t seen her for about 18 months and the last time you saw her she had cooked you and your fiancé a lovely a meal.

Things were different then and you talked about your wedding and all the plans you were having in the future.

There was no pandemic to worry about and you weren’t aware of your fiancé’s indiscretions at the time while Cillian was still happily dating your somewhat crazy friend.

Now, your engagement had ended but your friendship with Cillian had evolved into something else entirely.

***

After a smooth three-and-a-half-hour drive, you pulled up in front of Cillian’s parents’ house.

They both greeted you with excitement and told you to come in quickly as it was raining.

Cillian’s father quickly carried your small suitcase to one of the guestrooms while Cillian placed his into the other. There wasn’t much space in the house and, whilst the house had four bedrooms, the corridors were rather narrow and the living area was small.

‘It’s so good to see you Y/N’ Cillian’s mum said before offering you a cup of tea which you gladly accepted.

‘The last time you visited Cork was under better circumstances, but I hope you will enjoy it nonetheless’ she then said and you thanked her for her hospitality.

You had always gotten along well with Cillian’s mother and Cillian was simply happy to see his parents again after such a long time, even if it meant that his siblings couldn’t visit them at the same time as him due to the visitation limits imposed.

As you were sitting on the sofa with Cillian’s mother you soon noticed that Cillian was gone and so did his mother.

‘He better not be stealing food’ she then huffed out sternly and, sure enough, Cillian had found the freshly baked scones in the kitchen and couldn’t resist.

‘But they are so good Ma’ you heard him argue as his mum told him to get out of the kitchen and leave the scones alone, which made you laugh.

‘He will never change’ you chuckled and his mother nodded in agreement.

‘No, he won’t’ she then said before informing you that she had made a roast for dinner.

***

After dinner and a few glasses of wine with Cillian’s parents, they headed to bed at around 8.30pm as usual, leaving you and Cillian to watch TV in the living room.

You were quick to spread your legs out over Cillian’s laps, getting yourself more comfortable but being vary that his parents might walk in on you.

But, Cillian seemed to think that, once they went to bed, they would pretty much go to sleep right away and proceeded to pull you onto his lap.

‘I missed this today’ he said before he caressed your face and kissed you gently.

‘Me too’ you then giggled before returning the kiss rather quickly.

‘Do you want to go to my bedroom or yours?’ he then winked and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

‘Your parents are in the house Cillian’ you then said and, just as you did, you heard some footsteps in the hallway behind you.

You quickly jumped off Cillian’s lap and sat on the lounge like a well-behaved schoolgirl as his mother walked by to get a glass of water while Cillian covered up his erection, poking against the denim of his jeans, with a cushion.

‘Night Ma’ he then said and she couldn’t help but laugh before saying ‘good night’ again.

‘I am not going to have sex at your parents house’ you then huffed out quietly when his mother had left.

‘Alright, let’s go for drive then’ he suggested.

‘A drive? And how will you explain this to your mother tomorrow?’ you laughed and Cillian suggested to tell her that you forgot some toiletries and he drove to the shop to get them.

‘Supermarket closes in 30 minutes, let’s go’ he said and you couldn’t really say no to him.

***

Ten minutes later you arrived at a secluded area near the beach and you could just tell that Cillian had been there before.

‘Is this where you used to take your girlfriends when you were at high school and snatched your parents’ combi even though you didn’t have a driver’s licence?’ you asked, having heard about these stories from his brother before.

‘Yeah, it’s a good spot, nice and quiet’ Cillian winked as he reclined his seat and you quickly stripped down to your bra and panties.

‘Oh my god Cillian I feel like an 18-year-old again, sneaking out of the house to make out’ you laughed and, just before you could protest, Cillian reached inside your panties and slowly stroked your mound.

‘Just that, this time, it will actually be worth your while’ Cillian smirked as he ran his forefinger between the crease of your pussy and noticed the moistness which had already built there.

‘Hmm yes, it will be Cillian’ you moaned as he was rubbing your clit with his left hand and with his right hand was caressing your breasts.

You were quick to release his hard cock from his jeans as well and began jerking him in time with his clitoral stimulation and the heat inside the car was palpable.

‘So naughty…what if we get caught?’ you huffed out, knowing that Cillian had a kink for semi-public sex.

‘It’s worth the risk’ he groaned and, before long, you were gazing up from the seat with that wanton look in your eyes, pulling Cillian closer and uttering cues while he fingered your pussy and mouthed your firm nipples with his welcoming mouth.

‘I need you inside me Cillian’ you moaned as you were welcoming two fingers into your waiting slit and could not be distracted, even by the crackling sounds outside and the sound of the radio.

‘Come on then’ Cillian groaned as you continued to stroke him and, just as he invited you to take what you needed so badly, you let go off his cock and climbed on top of him.

He pressed the head of his cock against your awaiting pussy and you slowly sank down on him.

‘Oh god yes fuck’ you moaned as his cock disappeared into your tight vagina, expanding your love tunnel while he met your lips with his. Your mouths parted and your tongues communicated the instant of union as Cillian’s cock drove slowly into your warm pussy. You were lost in their unity while your reality transformed around them.

‘You feel so fucking good’ Cillian groaned as you were moving in perfect motion with Cillian’s penetration and your thighs were even perforated with the moisture that was coming out of your pussy.

Your rocking continued and you were now joining orally with diatribes as Cillian’s cock bottomed out again and again inside you. ‘Fuck’ you uttered as his big balls pressed against your bottom.

Your warm tunnel was wide for his cock and your eyes were fixed on the mechanistic ramming of Cillian’s body in its hedonistic role.

‘I am cumming…fuck’ you moaned with the ever fastening in and out rhythms that Cillian was delivering to your womanhood. Cillian too was groaning and you put a hand underneath his balls while he pounded you and the car shook.

With your screams and loss of control inside erotic orgasm, Cillian too lost control and filled your cavity with his warm seed.

‘Fuck, Y/N, I love…’ Cillian began to say but, just as he did, there was a nock on the window of the car on the driver’s side next to Cillian, interrupting what he was about to say.

‘Please lower your window…’ a man said from outside and you could see some flashing lights behind where the car was parked.

 Tag List:

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-your-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985@peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15 @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r @tellingyouastory @captivatedbycillianmurphy​ @namelesslosers​ @littlewhiterose​ @ttzamara​ @ttzamara @cilleveryone ​

@peaky-cillian @queenyshelby ​

@severewobblerlightdragon​ @ysmmsy​ @midnightmystic

[jishyucks]

The L Word ‣ hjs

‣ genre: angst with a fluffy ending, arranged marriage, sort of modern royalty (rich kid!au), female reader

‣ wc: 2.1k

‣ summary: “Tell me, Han. Has she ever explicitly told you that she loved you?”; in which Jisung's afraid that Y/N's going to leave him in rising of rumors but learns he shouldn't judge a situation from the words of others

‣ warnings?: The Hwang 'sibs' are mean in this (just a bit), lowkey rushed, jisung runs off because of overthinking

Looking at the ballroom’s appearance, Jisung feels as though he shouldn’t even be there in the first place. Like some puzzle piece placed in the wrong box. The people attending the party lived lavish lifestyles, knowing the difference between the different forks placed at the tables. Etiquette was more important to them than the basics a middle-class person would even care about.

Though Jisung had good ideas of such subjects, it wasn't forced onto him like those around him. The only reason why he was able to attend the party was because of a marriage arrangement your father and his father had made as some kind of sick ‘contract’ regarding business. Though he wasn’t complaining, feelings for you developed through the years of knowing you since childhood, he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about a handful of things.

For one, you guys were engaged through the arrangement. It’s been three years since the announcement, and even if Jisung believed you were fine with it, even if you ensured to Jisung that you were happy with the engagement, intrusive thoughts started keeping him up at night.

He knew you. You hated speaking out your feelings, whether it led to consequences or not. What if you actually weren’t fine with it? What if you were somehow threatened by your father and the contract to actually speak out about the engagement? He didn’t want you to feel forced to marry him.

Then there was his family’s reputation. His family was deemed drastically poorer than yours by the other associated families and businesses. He was afraid of tainting your family’s reputation or seeming like one of those leeches found at the bottom of murky ponds. Though it was an arranged marriage, Jisung had genuine feelings for you. It was his father that was in it for the money and Jisung was nothing like his father.

“Hey, scrounger!” Jisung turned to find Hyunjin and his sister Yeji approaching him from the opposite corner of the room. They both were dressed in clothes that were probably a lot more expensive than his own, his clothes being hand-me-downs from his father.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Yeji smirked, “You don’t even have business here.” She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, eyeing down the boy.

Jisung didn’t cower under their gaze, instead of straightening his back, “I’m here because I was invited. My father was invited as well.” Don’t show fear, he told himself, That’s what they want.

“Ahh~,” Hyunjin chuckled, “Good way to disguise 'because of Y/N.' Tell me, Han. Has Y/N ever explicitly told you that she loved you?”

Yeji butted in, laughing, “I think love is too strong of a word… how ‘bout like? Has she ever told you that she liked you? Cause rumor has it she’s planning on breaking your engagement.”

Jisung gulped, “S-she has… and gossip is bullshit.” He lied. When the arrangement was created, there was some kind of unspoken assumption that you both liked each other. As a result of this, no confessions were made from you both. Sure it was stupid, but in Jisung’s eyes, actions spoke louder than words, and just by how he treated you and you treated him, you both cared very much for each other. Of course, other people never paid attention to actions and relied on direct statements.

“We don’t gossip, Han,” Hyunjin scoffs, “Who would pass up the opportunity to marry Bang Chan when he’s the son of the top businessman in all of Korea?”

“What do you mean?” Jisung’s heart skipped a beat, eyed widening slightly at the mention of Bang Chan’s name.

“His father apparently wanted to create a deal with her father that was a lot better than his deal with yours,” Hyunjin explained, “Isn’t your engagement part of that poorer deal?”

Jisung chose not to reply, biting his tongue. Instead, he shoots Hyunjin a narrowed glare, not up for defending himself or arguing. With the lack of response from their target, the siblings simply rolled their eyes and walked away, taking a seat at their designated table.

When the attention was diverted away from him, Jisung couldn’t help but let his shoulders fall. He feels his heart beating quicker than at rest, thoughts running through his mind like crazy. You wouldn’t leave him just like that right? You wouldn’t.

Then his mind wanders back to Hyunjin and Yeji’s question. Yes, he did think that actions were undoubtedly stronger than words, but now that a spotlight was shone on the hidden yet obvious fact that you both hadn’t said anything about each others’ feelings, he couldn’t help but believe that you could possibly be leaving him. But then again, he has never said anything to you and his feelings existed.

He felt the sudden urge to look for you, who had been busy accompanying your father with the guests. Maybe he will actually confess how he truly felt, just in case you were actually thinking about breaking the engagement. Maybe he could save it somehow, just in case your father was willing to make the deal with Mr. Bang.

Chewing the bottom of his lip, he scanned the room, looking for the lavender dress you were wearing. But with the clumps of people, his line of sight was constantly stopped abruptly.

“Excuse me,” he mumbled politely, making his way through the crowd, “Excuse me.” He ignored the looks some people gave him, still slithering his way between the socializing people. Though his hair was parted in a way that exposed part of his forehead, he felt the need to hide under his bangs, keeping his head low as he did.

The familiar sound of your father’s laugh drove Jisung to stop and look around his area. If he was close, you’d be close. Scanning his surroundings completely, he finally spots your father, with you standing close beside him. He feels a smile rise on his lips as he begins to make his way towards you both, heartbeat racing just as his thoughts were.

Opening his mouth to call out for you, he quickly stops himself when he realizes that you and your father were holding a conversation with Bang Chan and his own father. His feet abruptly stop, allowing him to overhear the exchange of banter.

“Well, it was a pleasure having this conversation with you,” Mr. Bang chuckled, “I will see you on Monday for the papers?” He held a hand out for a handshake, a smile filled with pride appearing on his lips.

Your father nodded, “Likewise. I’m looking forward to it.” He completes the handshake, which then queues for Chan to lean in for a hug.

Shit, Jisung gulps, feeling his heart drop to his stomach, What the hell just happened?

You take a step forward and hug Chan back for a brief second before pulling back, “I hope you enjoy the rest of your time here, Chan.”

Chan’s dimples appeared as he smiled genuinely, “Thank you, Y/N.”

Jisung was frozen on the spot, unsure whether or not he should say anything. The notes that he had mentally jotted down in his head were suddenly ripped into pieces and he was practically speechless.

Obliviously, you turn to follow your father, who was already ready to move on to another conversation. Mid-turn, the boy dressed in a striped, navy suit had caught your attention, giving him a double-take, “Oh! Jisung!” The corners of your mouth rise higher, eyes lighting up at the sight of the familiar boy. A wave of comfort washed over you. It was refreshing to see him after interacting with so many strangers and acquaintances.

When you go to approach him, Jisung panics and begins to back into the people behind him. It was then you noticed the look of distraught on his face, causing you to speed up. At this, he turns and runs, causing commotion around him as dodges those who got in his way.

“Jisung!” You called out, turning the heads of those people around you. The music had drowned your voice out from those further away from you, “Jisung!?” You begin making your way through the crowd of people, going as fast as you could in heels so that you wouldn’t lose Jisung. A million assumptions were running through your head, worry lining each and every one of them.

Swinging the door open, Jisung finds himself stumbling out into the empty corridor of the hotel. With the choice of left and right, Jisung stops and impulsively runs in one direction, not minding where he would end up if kept running.

So you were going to break the engagement… without warning? How were you going to break the news to him? How was he supposed to react once you told him about it all? Happy? Sad? Excited?

You finally reached the door of the ballroom, slipping out rather roughly into the corridor. Your head whips left and right, seeing Jisung’s trailing feet to the right of the hallway, turning the corner. You let out a heavy breath before kicking off your heels, booking it in that direction.

Your mind wanders to why Jisung was running. What did he hear? Was he okay? Could it be what other people were saying again? But Jisung was never usually one to let words get to him.

Jisung lets himself rest once he gets to a secluded room. Judging by its content, he realized that he managed to slip into the coatroom, but he didn’t care. He needed time alone to think. He just needed to process this entire situation.

“Jisung?” He hears you call out. Jisung sinks down at the corner of the room, resting his head against the wall. He stays quiet, resting his forehead against his knees.

The door to the coat room opens, revealing your disheveled figure, “Jisung…” You pause and try to catch your breath, “There… there you are.”

Jisung doesn’t lift his head, afraid that if he did face you, he would burst into tears. He could sense you approaching him, though, settling down beside him. He could feel your dress up against him. Soon he feels your hand take his, holding it tightly.

“What’s wrong?”

When Jisung doesn’t answer, you don’t say anything to push out an explanation. You let the question simmer, resting your head against his shoulder.

At this point, Jisung’s mind was projecting none of his thoughts but static. He didn’t know where to start and what to bring up. How was he supposed to confront you about the engagement?

“I’m happy for you two,” Jisung blurted out quietly, avoiding eye contact, “I really am.” Your ears perked up, confused at what Jisung was going on about.

“I think people will like you both together more than us,” Jisung continued, “Just know that I lo–“

You interrupt him, turning to completely face him, “Jisung, what are you talking about?” You turned your body towards him, completely facing the cowered boy. Though your body language was practically begging for eye contact, Jisung still avoided it, playing with his rings to keep him from losing control over his emotions.

Building up his confidence, Jisung let himself look at you before whispering, “Y/N?” He sniffled quietly.

“Yeah, Sung?”

Jisung gulped and asked, “Do you like me?”

You’re taken aback by the question, not expecting it out of all the questions Jisung could have asked. Is this why he was crying?

“Of course I do, Jisung, what makes you thin–“

“I mean genuinely like me. Do you have feelings for me?” Words were spewing out of his mouth before he could even process what he was saying. He could feel his emotions taking control of himself, which often is never a good thing.

“Jisung, I love you, okay? Why do you think otherwise?” The beat of your heart sped up with worry. Your eyebrows knitted together in concern as Jisung’s lips quivered slightly.

“The Hwang's told me you were planning on breaking our engagement because Bang Chan’s father offered a better deal than my father,” he explained quietly. He felt as though that if he spoke any louder, he would break out into tears, “I told them I didn’t believe them… t-then they asked me if you’ve ever told me if you did have feelings for me. I just didn’t know what to think when… when I saw your father accept Mr. Bang’s deal. I was afraid you were actually going to leave me.”

You gently slapped his shoulder in shock, “Han Jisung, are you serious?” Jisung responded wordlessly, though a puzzled look replaced his previous emotion.

“My father approached me beforehand about it. He wanted to break our engagement because of the deal, telling me that it was no longer necessary,” you say, “But I told him I wanted to marry you because I love you, Sung. And if he did threaten to forcibly break our engagement, I would’ve fought for us.”

Jisung wanted to laugh at himself at how much he had overreacted. Overthinking was a bitch and this situation was real-life proof, “Y/N?”

“Yeah, Sung?”

“I would fight for us too.”

[caiuscassiuss]

oppa! | ot7 (I)

Description: Being raised by a caring yet distant father, a close, tight-knit family is the one thing you have craved in your short life. After your adventurer father remarries a rich woman, you’re stuck with seven new brothers. Seven very hot, very different men. This is not what you meant by family.

Arc 1: Stepbrother Introductions

Genre: OT7 x Female!Reader | Brother’s Conflict AU | stepbrother au | fluff | slice of life (For this chapter: PG 13) WC: 15k Warnings: swearing, dub-con (??). In later chapters there will be explicit mentions of depression, panic attacks, thoughts of suicide, self harm, and graphic smut.

Chapter 1: Enter the Oldest Type, Jin!

Fiddling with the charm on your phone, you looked down at the blue text bubble that spelled out the address of what might possibly be your home for the next few years.

You had googled the place as soon as you got home, expecting it to be a random apartment somewhere and boy oh boy, you were wrong. First, the house (not apartment) was on the outskirts of Seoul, on one of the hilly inclines overlooking the Han River. Second, the place where it was located was expensive.

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you saw the housing prices of properties nearby on this popular real estate app. Sure, your father was a celebrity adventurer with his own cable show and so you were used to a certain amount of comfort, but this type of wealth was way beyond your league. Who was this woman that your father married, Jesus Christ?

On the Google streets view (you swear you aren’t weird), you saw the place had at least 2 gates to get through and your father hadn’t told you of any code or given you any pass to get through. You had a feeling if you tried to go in there blind, you would be immediately detained by the police.

Biting your lip, you paced on the fluffy carpet that felt like a dream. Your father was gallivanting off in some remote corner of Nigeria, so he was bound to have no cell service there. You knew no one in the family— much less how to contact them so you could meet up for a coffee or something. It would seem rude not to do something…

Your apartment doorbell buzzed throughout your apartment. Folding your arms over your chest, you shivered as you walked towards the doorway. You had turned up the Air Conditioner too high to ward off the muggy Seoul heat and now it was freezing inside your apartment.

“Hello?” you asked in to the intercom.

“Hi, is this Y/N?” a masculine voice asked at the other end.

You frowned and shifted your weight on your other leg. You don’t recall expecting any guests today.

“Excuse me?” the man asked again after you refused to respond.

“Hi, sorry, who is calling?” you said politely.

“I’m Seokjin, Seoyeon’s son. I’m your, uh, new brother?” he said haltingly, his voice raised at the end.

Gasping softly, you felt your mind pile up with questions and questions until it was spinning. How did he get here? How did you know who you are?

“Oh! Uh, yeah, please come on up.”

You pressed the button to allow the elevator to go to your location and you heard a bright “Thank you!” before the intercom shut off.

You zoomed around your apartment like a psychopath, picking up spare pieces of clothing and putting the dishes in the dishwasher. Your apartment reeked of mild depression, suppressed anxiety, and the beginnings of an unhealthy reliance on take out and that was not the first impression you wanted your newfound brother to have of you.

Putting your hands on your hips, you scanned the now clean apartment. It looked like a moderately adjusted human lived here.

Good timing indeed, as your buzzer sharply rang throughout the apartment. Taking a deep breath, you grasped the door handle and pulled it open.

Your lungs really said “Bye, sister!” and decided to quit working as soon as you saw this man. You couldn’t breath because standing in front of you was one of the most beautiful men you have ever seen in your life.

He was tall, taking up the entire doorway with his height. A dash of neatly groomed, brown hair graced the top of his small head and big eyes peered at you curiously above a strong nose and a pair of big, pouty lips the color of strawberries.

The second thing you noticed about him after his overwhelming beauty was his navy scrubs and the large badge attached to his pocket that read “Kim Seokjin; Pediatric Doctor at Seoul National University Pediatric Group”. You’ve seen people in scrubs and they were, favorably said, unflattering but on this man… he looked like he stepped out of a catalogue.

“You’re Y/N, right?”

Speechless, you nodded.

His entire face lit up with a grin. “Oh, that’s a relief. It’s fantastic to meet you, I’m Kim Seokjin. You can call me Jin though.”

Your voice decided to be nice and start working. You held out a hand and he reciprocated with a handshake. “Hi, I’m Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you. Please, do come in.”

He took off his sturdy shoes politely at the doorway and you retreated further into the hallway of your apartment.

You shivered again through your thin top and crossed your arms. God, you were going to have to raise the temperature. It felt like a fridge in here.

Jin turned around with a smile on his face before his eyes went wide. His eyes flickered down your body and quickly flickered back up to your face.

“I’m sorry if this is a bit sudden,” he started, red climbing up his neck and rising up to his cheeks. “I—” His eyes flicked down again before staying resolutely at your face, despite his very red cheeks.

Did you have a stain on your pants or something? You cast your eyes down at yourself and—

Oh.

Your very regrettable decision of turning your A/C up resulted in stiff nipples poking out from your thin top. To make matters worse, your crossed arms emphasized your breasts.

You felt yourself going red as an unflattering squeak left your mouth. Pulling a cardigan from behind the couch (there goes your good first impression), you quickly threaded your arms through the sleeves and covered your chest.

“I am so sorry—”

“It’s alright!” he said, his voice unwieldy. Jin’s eyes widened again as he realized the meaning of his words. “No! I mean— ugh,” he groaned, burying his face in his hands.

You giggled as you saw his mature composure crack in front of you. 

“I must seem like a pervert,” Jin groaned. “Here I was, hoping to come off as a cool older brother, and I just,” he shook his head. “Forgive me.”

The awkwardness defused, you laughed again, ultra conscious of your chest. “Please don’t worry about it! I had hoped to make a good first impression as well but look at me! Pulling clothing out of furniture.”

He snorted and you both started laughing, filling up your once silent apartment with sound. 

As the laughter died down, you offered him a seat on your couch. He gladly took the invitation, throwing in a joke about being on his feet all day.

“Yeah, I’m sorry to barge in all of the sudden. I didn’t have your contact information— only your address and I realized that you had no way to get to our house. So, here I am,” he grinned, eyes forming cute half crescents.

“I actually have to thank you for it,” you said, setting down a glass of water in front of him. “I was thinking of going to your house myself but I saw the security around it and I knew I’d probably get detained or something.”

“Well, it’s good that it all lined up so well,” Jin commented. “I better introduce myself, don’t I? I’m just a pediatric doctor with the SNU pediatric group and 26— the oldest of all of us. I was born in Gwacheon and moved to Seoul to attend university.”

You smiled softly, despite your unease at his use of the word “just”. “A pediatric doctor? That’s very nice. What made you want to be a doctor?”

Jin’s smile grew strained and you saw his broad shoulders tense up. 

Feeling like you wanted to hit yourself over the head, you threw out your hands in apology. “I didn’t mean to—”

He shook his head. “Please, don’t worry about it. It’s a common question. I chose this specific profession over the OR or surgery because, as a child, I knew someone who was injured a lot and I couldn’t help them at all.” He grimaced, but pasted on a very good smile. His eyes were crinkled at the edges, his head tilted upwards, but you could see through it. “Now I can, yeah?”

“I get what you mean,” you said sympathetically. You were often sick as a child too, and it was… difficult, when your father was off scampering across half the world. 

Jin straightened up in his seat and lost that faraway look in his eyes, zeroing in on you. “What about you, Y/N? You’re college-age, yeah?”

“Yes, I’m 21 and attend Yonsei University as a junior. Although it’s not as exciting as wanting to be a doctor, I want to be a counselor one day,” you told him, your eyes cast down “I want to help people.”

“That’s really admirable, Y/N. If you ever need any help getting an internship or opportunity, I know some counselors and I’d be more than happy to facilitate a meeting,” Jin smiled warmly at you.

A blush infused your cheeks. “I, ah, thank you. I actually work as an operator on Crisis hotline right now, but I’ll definitely need all the help I can get.”

“Of course! You’re my cute younger sister now.”

“I’ve never had a sibling, I’m very excited to have seven older brothers now,” you grinned.

“Yeah! About that,” he coughed awkwardly, “— are you considering moving in with us? Your father told my mother that you would be moving, but I wasn’t sure if you were completely willing?”

You nodded. “I’m considering it. I’d like to meet everyone first, however. Just to get used to your personalities.”

“Completely understandable, all seven of us can be,” he paused, “—a lot. However, if you’re up for meeting a few of us, I can take you to our house for a visit. I can drop you back and everything.”

“That’d be lovely.”

He waited patiently for you as you locked the door to your apartment, carefully watching you as you stepped into the elevator.

“Where did you park?” you asked, craning your head upwards to look at him. “I hope you weren’t forced to park on the street, it can be very expensive.”

He shook his head. “I found the visitor parking, it’s all good.”

The doctor led you through the underground parking, weaving through cars and concrete beams with ease until you stopped in front of a bright white car with a silver trident in the middle of its grill. Eyes wide, you knew what this car was. Your dad had admired Maseratis for the longest time, and this one looked to be very new.

Jin gestured to the white Maserati, looking unfairly suave in his scrubs and next to his fancy car. “Hop in.”

Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Mature Type, Namjoon! 

Chapter 2: Enter the Mature Type, Namjoon!

Jin was a model driver, driving carefully on the streets of Seoul. He looked both ways before crossing an intersection and took slow turns. However, it amused you how he hissed at the console as it beeped to warn him if there was a car or curb too close to him.

However, as you looked out the window, the streets got quieter and the houses a whole lot bigger as you crossed into a residential part of Seoul. You were driving parallel to the Han River, and you saw many people doing water activities or boating to cool off in the hot September weather.

Jin slowed down as you entered an avenue lined by trees and you could see a guardhouse at the end of the picturesque street. However, the two of you avoided the guardhouse completely and took what was presumably the resident’s entrance, where he passed by easily with a scan of a barcode on his tire.

“Do you drive, Y/N?” Jin asked, one elbow resting casually on his open window and the other on his lap.

“No, I never really had time to learn.” More like you never had someone to teach you.

“Okay, so we’ll just need a resident pass for you,” Jin muttered to himself, eyes focused on the street.

He drove through large, green spaces with the occasional building speckling the landscape. You gripped your purse harder. Green spaces unencumbered by large buildings blocking the view were rare in Seoul, the cost of natural land so astronomically high only wealthy business people or very famous celebrities being able to afford places like this. You gulped. Their family was definitely out of your league.

The car stopped in front of a very modern looking townhouse and the garage opened, Jin driving into what seemed to be a much more expansive parking garage under the house. However, instead of boring concrete and fluorescent lighting, sandy colored marble and warm lighting lit the space as you descended through the underground.

Biting your lip as Jin backed in his car easily with just one hand steering the wheel, defined forearms catching your attention, you mentally smacked yourself. He’s your brother, for god’s sake!

You froze up as the doors started to lift up like wings on a butterfly, but relaxed. This level of wealth would definitely take some time to get used to.

He placed a warm palm on your shoulder, his fingertips reaching your collarbones, as he guided you to the entrance, up the dimly lit stairs and to a large, wooden door.

“I wish I could’ve taken you through the front door since it’s much more impressive,” he sighed, and pushed the wooden door open with a thumbprint scanner. “However, welcome to our humble abode.”

An abode it was, but humble was it not. You were only on the ground floor, but the ceilings were very high and you were surrounded by many floor-to-ceiling windows. The main theme of the building was warm marble and dark, rich wood with jewel tones interspersed between.

“Woah,” you breathed out. “You guys have a lot of space.”

“Yeah, “ Jin grimaced. “We kind of need it when some of us like to roughhouse and tend to break things.”

You laughed as he then guided you towards a spacious living room, a large window overlooking the Han River and greenery.

“Sit tight, I’ll get us something to drink,” Jin said, his voice getting fainter as he strode to a room off the massive living room.

Ankles crossed together, you peered at the large room. At first, it looked neat. Everything was in its place and perfectly coordinated by the eye of an expert designer. However, you could see the signs the place was well-lived in. The wear-and-tear of the orange and beige blanket emblazoned with an H that was thrown over the chair of the couch, the mess of wires from various gaming consoles, and even the small depressions on the pillows. 

A shelf of colorful books framed the huge TV and you stood up, perusing them. You expected the books to be typical, non-offensive living room books with dust on the covers but to your surprise, the books on the shelves were well loved with their cracked spines and rounded edges. Tracing over your fingers over the books you whispered the titles to yourself.

Candide, Crime and Punishment, The Metamorphosis…

“I’m sorry, but who are you?”

A deep voice echoed behind you and you jumped in surprise. Whirling around you saw another tall man with neat ash blond hair, glasses neatly perched on his straight nose with a pair of fierce eyes peering out from behind the frames. His charcoal suit was well-fitted to his body and his build reminded you of a tiger; sinewous muscles cording his arms, back, and thighs and tensed, ready to jump into action.

A nervous smile crawled up your lips. “I’m Y/N L/N. Are you one of my new brothers?”

The man relaxed minutely but the fierceness of his eyes did not subside. “I am. I’m Kim Namjoon, it’s a pleasure to meet you Y/N.”

He strode across the room in long, confident strides and took your hand. His handshake was strong and you tightened your grip in response, narrowing your eyes at him. His right eyebrow quirked, but he said nothing as he turned his attention to the bookshelf.

“So, what caught your attention here?” He murmured, tenor voice traveling the length of your spine and stroking your sensitive skin. “Is it… this?”

He pulled out a copy of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, obviously less worn than the rest.

A smirk tugged at your lips. “No, not that one.”

He stared at you longer, before crossing his arms over his powerful chest. “Oh? Enlighten me, then.”

With nimble fingers, you pulled out a red, slim novel and handed it to him. You carefully tracked his reaction as he took it from your hands, face and eyes saying nothing. He ran a thumb over the agonized face on the cover, and you felt a shiver go down your arm at the sheer sensuousness of it.

“Clockwork Orange,” he breathed out. “Interesting. Are you a Lit Major?”

You continued to stare at the bookshelf, feeling his eyes boring holes into your face. “No, I’m not. I’m majoring in psychology.”

He hummed, eyes tracing the rough artwork of the novel’s cover. “I liked psychology, but at that point I was already double-majoring. I majored in philosophy and business, which are not as different than they seem.”

“Are you out of university, then?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.

Namjoon nodded affirmatively. “I’m 24, but I matriculated at SNU when I was 18. I run a conglomerate group now.”

Trying to keep your mouth from falling open in shock— what kind of twenty something year old owned a large business, much less a conglomerate— you nodded coolly.

“Given or made?” you questioned, an edge in your voice. Something about Namjoon made you want to test him, to prod at him constantly.

His fierce eyes turned to you and they blazed. 

“Made.”

Your lips lifted upwards, minutely, until you heard a clinking of glasses.

“Y/N? Sister-dearest? I got you— oh!”

Jin stopped in shock at the sight of you two seemingly huddled together in front of the book case.

“Do you two know each other?” Jin asked, absolutely bemused, as he set down a pitcher and some glasses on the coffee table.

“We don’t,” Namjoon answered. “However,” he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, “—I can see we’ll get along nicely.”

You did not get the same impression, but you digressed. He was one of your brothers now. Another factor was that one of his biceps, even though it was hidden inside his suit jacket, looked like it could strangle you.

Jin continued to stare in suspicion, before shrugging his wide shoulders and settling down on the couch.

“So what were you chatting about then?”

“A couple of books I had on the shelf. Y/N has some interesting taste,” Namjoon commented.

Jin snorted into his water with lemon. “Oh, ew, now I have two bookworms as siblings? Reading was the worst part of university. I liked all the practical stuff.”

“Sometimes I can’t believe that rational parents would let you near their kids,” Namjoon retorted, helping himself to a glass.

“And I can’t believe some women come near you,” Seokjin replied heatedly.

The two of them stared at each other seriously before breaking out in guffaws, hiding your expression behind your glass of water. This was such a weird dynamic and it was only two of them. Well, the best you could do was adapt the situation.

Just like you always had.

Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Rough Type, Jungkook! 

Chapter 3: Enter the Rough Type, Jungkook!

As the three of you chatted about yourselves (apparently, some of the brothers were biologically Seoyeon’s children or were adopted), Jin’s eye caught the clock behind you and his eyes widened.

“Oh dear, it’s almost 6 o’clock,” Jin fretted, leaping up from the couch. “Everyone should be arriving home soon– excuse me,” he said as he retreated into the kitchen.

“Ah, I guess that means I should get going,” you said apologetically to Namjoon, standing up and straightening your ruffled skirt.

“Please, stay for dinner,” Namjoon smiled, gesturing for you to take a seat.

“Yeah, Y/N, stay for dinner!” Jin yelled from the kitchen.

“I mean, if you’re sure…” you trailed off, hoping you could stay. You felt too lazy to cook for yourself tonight.

“Please do, we hope to see you a lot more around here,” Namjoon said, warm smiling at you.

The security system dinged, signalling a door had opened within the house. Namjoon’s ears perked up.

His eyes flew towards the doorway. “That must be Taehyung or Jungkook, coming in. They’re usually the first to arrive.”

You wondered why both of those names seemed familiar and a heavy door slammed shut.

“Jungkook-ah! Your new sister is here! Come and greet her, you punk!”

The footsteps thud to a halt at the foot of the steps and you spin around in your seat.

In the hallway, a buff man in a loose-fitting white t-shirt and grey joggers stood in front of you. In almost humorous contrast to his hulking, muscled body, the cutest face with big eyes and pouty lips you have seen peered at you.

He looked familiar to you and you bit your lip, trying to figure out where you had seen him. Oh wait! Charger guy!

“Jungkook! You’re in my Calculus class, right?”

“Yeah…” he whispered, looking at you like he saw a ghost.

“It’s so funny that you’re here. It’s nice to meet you as my brother,” you grinned at him, tilting your head to the side.

He nodded mindlessly, frozen at his spot in the hallway.

“Jungkook? Are you good?” you prodded.

Namjoon snorted as he kept on typing into his phone. “Jungkook can’t speak to girls, so he gets frozen like this from time to time. Hyung, you fix him.”

“I’m cooking, you dolt!”

“And I’m trying to earn money so I can provide the food. Go.”

Jin shot you a look, as if exclaiming “look at how I’m treated around here!”, and dusted off his hands. Striding over to a frozen Jungkook, Jin poked Jungkook’s very built chest.

Jungkook still didn’t move and Jin pursed his lips. He poked him again. “Yah! Why aren’t you working?!”

The youngest brother broke out from his trance and looked at Jin seriously. 

“No.”

“Pardon?” you asked, wondering if you misheard.

“No.” Jungkook shook his mass of black, shaggy hair and ran a tattooed hand through it, looking in disbelief at the ground. “No, no, no, no, no no.”

Your slight smile is frozen on your face and you feel your shoulders tense up and, nervously, you look to Jin.

“Jungkook—“

“Fuck!” He threw his hands in the air. Jungkook pointed a finger at you, a line creasing at his forehead. “I did not sign up for this! Fuck!” 

Spinning around, he marched back into the hall and you could see the powerful muscles in his back tense through his thin t-shirt.

“Well…”

Jin, with his hands rubbing his temples, sighed heavily and deflated at the counter. “God, I’m sorry about that Y/N. I don’t know why Jungkookie is acting like that; he’s normally really amiable and nice.”

You laugh softly, trying to defuse the awkward tension that had settled around the kitchen. “Jin-ssi, please don’t worry about it. It’s a huge shift in his life and some people are going to take it harder than others. It’ll take some time, but I’m sure he’ll get used to me being his sister.”

Namjoon scrutinized you with hooded eyes. “You’re very kind. I hope my brothers don’t take advantage of it.”

Your grin cracked a bit. “We’re family. I don’t mind.”

—————

Jungkook would not come down from his room, despite the hilarious mix of threats, blackmail, and aegyo Jin tried to coerce him down with.

You could hear Jin rapid-fire lecturing Jungkook outside Jungkook’s bedroom door and Namjoon sighed, his temples in his hands. 

“Hyung, just give up. The kid’s being moody again.”

Jin acquiesced with ill grace, throwing in a last good “You punk!” up the stairs. He stomped down the carpeted stair well, retying his apron and set to reheat many of the things.

“See if I feed him tonight, that ungrateful brat…” Jin hissed, moodily chopping some screen onions.

Namjoon leaned towards you and beckoned your ear towards his and you obeyed, curious. His scent wafted towards you, yet was not as punchy as a normal cologne. It was subtle and musky, carrying notes of old books and bergamot. Perhaps it was a lotion?

“Jin says that all the time, but will leave him leftovers anyways,” Namjoon whispered into your ear, making you unconsciously shiver. “He’s too much of a pushover.”

You snorted as Jin came out of the kitchen with a dish in hands. “Yah, what was that, Namjoon?”

“Just commenting on how good your food is, hyung,” Namjoon replied coolly and leaning away from you.

Jin glanced suspiciously at Namjoon, before setting down the dish. You gasped, immediately getting to your feet.

“Oh, I’ve been such a rude guest! Can I help in any way? Set out the dishes or something?”

The apron-clad doctor clutched his heart, and wailed, “Look! My cute dongsaeng! Finally, a member of this household that is kind and offers to do their part!” Jin’s voice got progressively louder as he directed his voice up the stairs.

You muffled your laugh with a cough, and turned to Jin again. “Jin-ssi?”

Jin shook his head, clicking his tongue as he directed you to stay in your seat. “No, sweetheart, you’re a guest. Joonie-ah, set out the plates.”

Namjoon got up to get the plates, but as he did, his phone buzzed. Namjoon’s forehead creased as he looked at whatever was on his screen.

“Hyung, Taehyung-ah won’t be here today. Apparently his shoot on Jeju is lasting over night.”

Jin sighed, bustling around the kitchen. “How about Hoseok? Yoongi? I know Chimmy is out of the country right now.”

Taehyung, Hoseok, Yoongi, Chimmy, you memorized in your head. These were the four brothers you had yet to meet.

Namjoon snorted and put down the silverware, forks and spoons tinkling brightly. “You know Yoongi— he’s like a stray cat. He’ll be here when he wants. As for Hoseok, I think he might’ve just fallen asleep at the studio.”

“I’m sorry Y/N, I wish I could’ve introduced you to our other brothers,” Jin apologized. “Now, you’re just stuck with us two grandpas.”

You shook your head. “I’m just happy I could have dinner with you guys. Thank you for inviting me over.”

Jin watched you with a fond smile and Namjoon contemplated you carefully again.

Everything was set out and the three of you dug into Jin’s delicious food.

“Jin-ssi, this is very good. Your food tastes delicious. Did you put brown sugar into the sauce? It really rounds out the taste,” you complimented.

“I haven’t heard a compliment from these ungrateful brats about my cooking for 10 years,” Jin sighed dramatically. “Such a cute dongsaeng.”

Namjoon shook his head at Jin’s immature antics. “I might as well introduce you to Jungkook, since he elected not to do it himself.”

“You seemed to know him from university, yes?” Jin asked.

Nodding, you dabbed your mouth with a napkin. “I know of him, yes. He’s in my calculus class? Although, I feel like I might’ve had him in some of my core curriculum classes.”

“Jungkook is at Yonsei for a technology degree, although at first he was reluctant to go to university,” Namjoon revealed. “He wanted to be a Pro-Gamer and streamer full-time, but Seoyeon, Hyung, and I convinced him to get a degree.”

“He chose technology because he wants to combine his passion for gaming and technology into something in the future,” Jin continued, taking a sip of his water.

“That’s a very smart move of his,” you said politely. You wondered why Namjoon referred to his mother as ‘Seoyeon’. Maybe he was one of the adopted ones?

“That brat upstairs might look like he just screams at the monitor and works out, but he’s much more,” Namjoon reflected.

———- 

When you were cleaning up, you felt bad that Jungkook hadn’t had dinner yet. That man must need like four square meals a day and tons of snacks to keep up his bulk.

“Jin-ssi, Namjoon-ssi, I’m going to deliver some food to Jungkook. He must be hungry,” you called out, scraping some of the food onto a plate.

“You don’t have too, Y/N, he usually sneaks down to get something from the fridge,” Namjoon said as he typed furiously on his phone.

“Don’t worry about it, I want to help him,” you grinned, climbing up the stairs.

Namjoon mumbled something suspiciously like, “You’re too kind for your own good” but you had already gotten to the second landing. Stopping in front of Jungkook’s door, you knocked.

“Jungkook-ssi?” you said when no one responded. “You must be a bit hungry, so I just got a plate together for you.”

Complete radio silence. 

Exhaling sharply through your nostrils, you pouted and bent down to set down the plate next to his doorway.

“Well, if you change your mind, I put it next to your door. I’ll be going now!”

You strode down the hallway, making sure your footsteps trailed off. You hid behind a corner, making sure to conceal yourself completely.

After waiting a few minutes, you were sure he wasn’t going to come out  but his door clicked open and Jungkook emerged in a grey-blue hoodie. He took a surreptitious glance around the hallway before his eyes found you behind the corner.

Blushing, you decided to wave at him. To your surprise, instead of scowling or ignoring you completely, Jungkook’s face turned tomato red as he hurriedly gathered up the plate and slammed his door.

You scratched your head. Maybe he was shy or something.

Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Bright Type, Hoseok! 

Chapter 5: Enter the Bright Type, Hoseok!

“So, how were your brothers? Nice? Weird? Ugly?” Hyerim pestered as you walked by the subway.

You bit your lip. “Um, really different?”

Hyerim fixed you a look.

“Okay, so I met three out of the seven yesterday. The oldest one— his name is Seokjin, but I call him Jin— is 26 and he’s a pediatric doctor. The other one—”

“Wait, Seokjin?” Your friend squinted at you. “Does he happen to work at SNU Pediatric Group?”

Blinking, you turned to her. “Yeah? How the hell did you know that?”

Hyerim let out a half strangled scream as you stepped down the stairs of the station. You were instantly surrounded by dozens of power blue ads with a purple suit-clad man in the middle, perhaps in the middle of a hip trust, all reading Happy Birthday in aesthetic cursive.

“Hoe! He’s my brother’s fucking doctor, I can’t believe this!”

Your eyebrows nearly touched your forehead. “Shit, really?”

“Yes! Holy shit, did you not listen to me complaining to you about how hot he was? And now he’s your fucking brother? The star must’ve aligned for me! This must mean the rest of the brothers are good looking!” Hyerim squealed.

“Does Jongin not exist anymore?” you asked as you both swiped your subway passes.

“Shhh, just because I’m off the market doesn’t mean I don’t get to look,” she giggled, her pony tail swishing back and forth.

You shook your head, amused at her antics, and continued.

“Anyways, the other brother I met is some fancy-schmancy businessman. Namjoon-ssi is 25? 24? He’s older than me but graduated from college when he was just 18.”

Hyerim’s eyes took on a perverted light and she simpered underneath her hand. “Oh? Am I hearing of sugar daddy material?”

You squawked and hit her shoulder. “Hyerim, stop! These are my brothers, not matches on Tinder!”

“I don’t care, you need a boyfriend— even if it’s a secret and taboo one,” Hyerim said, pushing her hair off her shoulder.

Rolling your eyes, you sat down in a seat next to her. “Anyways, the boys invited me to dinner again tonight in hopes we’ll catch more of the boys in the house. Jin-ssi says trying to get them all in one place is like waiting for a blue moon— it’s very rare.”

“So are you going straight there or going home to change?”

Shaking your head, you gestured at a laminated white pass in your hands. “I wanted to get there early today so I can go home early. Jin-ssi drove me home last night and I don’t want him to be caught in rush hour traffic again.”

Hyerim peered at the pass in your hands. “Hannam the Hill? Hey, doesn’t Han Hyo-joo live there? The actress from Brilliant Legacy?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you leaned into the hard plastic seat. “I don’t know. Probably? All I know is that the place where they live is very ritzy and takes like two security gates to get into.”

“Okay, they’re all sugar daddy material then,” Hyerim commented. She ducked to avoid a hit over the head and you huffed, crossing your arms.

“Stop, they all do pretty well for themselves and I heard my stepmother is some fancy businesswoman from a well-to-do family. They’re just my family now.”

“The train is approaching Yangwon station. I repeat the train is approaching Yangwon station,” the bright voice announced over the intercom.

“Oh, that’s my stop,” you remembered. 

“Wait, you said you met another brother. Who is he?” Hyerim asked as she patted her nose with a compact.

The train slowed to a stop and you got up.

“My other brother is Jungkook. The one from our Calculus class? The streamer?”

Smirking, you dramatically walked away and heard Hyerim’s shriek of disbelief as you stepped onto the train platform.

————— 

“I’m sorry, what?” you asked the guard in disbelief.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but your visitor pass has expired,” the security guard said calmly, eyes scanning you detachedly. Like you were another crazy female.

You were going to kill Jin. Forget his awesome jajamyeon, you’ll bitch-slap both him and Namjoon into another dimension.

“Are you sure you can’t just let me in? Like, call the house or something,” you asked desperately, hands crumpling the visitor pass.

The guard looked like he desperately wanted to roll his eyes, but he picked up his corded phone.

“Building 10, yes?” he asked boredly.

“Yes.”

He waited for the call to be picked up but after several rings, no one picked up.

“Apologies ma’am, but no one appears to be at the house. If you’re done, I’d like to ask you to leave and come back later,” the man said with an air of finality, and turned back to his station and looked at the 6 monitors surrounding his desk.

Your mouth open, you were aghast at his lack of sympathy. He could’ve at least offered for you to let you wait! It was nearing sun down and the boys had invited you to dinner again, and it would be rude to be late.

You don’t even know why they needed this much security. Sure, Namjoon was the CEO of a large conglomeration but wasn’t as high profile as Samsung’s chairman or someone crazy like that. It wasn’t like one of your brothers was a high-profile celebrity, right?

Standing on the sidewalk and looking like an idiot, you decided to call one of your damn brothers. Huffing, you flipped open your phone and selected Jin’s contact. After several rings, the call picked up.

“Y/N?”

“Hi Jin-ssi, sorry to bother you right now. I’m sure you’re busy right now,” you apologized, accidentally meeting eyes with the security guard who stared at you suspiciously.

“You’re fine! Is everything alright?” Jin asked, his voice tinged by concern.

You bit your lip as the security guard raised an eyebrow and picked up his phone, his eyes not letting go of you the entire time.

“I’m trying to get to the house, but the guard told me the visitor pass expired,” you explained, breath hitching as the guard spoke rapidly into the phone.

Jin swore over the phone, the sound muffled as he moved his phone away from his face.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, Namjoon and I were so sure it was still active. Sit tight wherever you are, I’m texting one of the boys to get you through the gate. Hoseok is about a few minutes away from you.”

“Um, I don’t mean to rush,” you said, eyes widening as the man gestured to get out of the guardhouse, “— but I think the guard is about to detain me.”

“Goddamn security,” Jin hissed. “I’m calling the guard office right now, I am so sorry.”

He hung up and the guard continued to advance towards you, and you grasped your phone a bit tighter. The summer humidity suddenly pressed into your skin, slipped between your waistband and collar to make you sweat. Your eyes flickered to the station. No one was in the guard office to take Jin’s call so you steeled for yourself for what was about to be an ugly confrontation.

“Ma’am, I firmly ask you to leave the premises before I am forced to—”

“Y/N!”

The guard and you turned in the direction of the sound, and you saw a man in a bright yellow windbreaker and black sport shorts somehow jogging towards you in socks and sandals.

“Y/N,” he said, out of breath, as he stopped in front of you and the security guard. He held out a hand as he put his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

“Hoseok-nim,” the guard bowed in respect, “Do you perhaps know this young lady?”

You got a good glimpse of him as he lifted his head and tennis cap. He pulled down his white mask and you saw his pointed nose, unfairly smooth skin, and sharp chin. You sobbed inwardly. Did all of your brothers miraculously get the luckiest scratch off tickets for the genetic jackpot? The man grinned at you and nodded in affirmative at the guard.

“Yes, I do,” Hoseok said, straightening up.

“I’m sorry, the young lady did not have the proper credentials to enter. My apologies.” The guard continued, speaking to Hoseok as if you did not exist.

Hoseok’s happy expression vanished and his brows furrowed. “Please, don’t apologize to me. My sister looked frightened. My brothers and I would appreciate it if you treated her a bit more politely.”

You hadn’t even noticed how frightened you were as you felt a drop of sweat roll down your temple and the shivers stop.

“I apologize, young lady,” the security guard said, taking off his cap and bowing politely. You smiled tightly and accepted with grace, gesturing for him to get up.

“That being said, we haven’t had time to get her resident pass processed. I’d like to add her to a list of visitors so a mix-up like this will not happen again,” Hoseok said seriously, staring down the security guard underneath his tennis logo cap and eccentric outfit. It almost put a smile to your lips, to see a beefy man in a suit and tie nearly cower under a boy at least half his age and centimeters shorter than him.

“Of course. Hoseok-nim, young lady,” he bowed, and the security guard scurried towards the office.

Hoseok turned towards you and his face brightened, rounded cheeks pulled upwards. “Hi Y/N, I’m so sorry for this mess,” he said, eyes shining with regret.

“I completely understand,” you placated. “You’re… Hoseok-ssi, right?”

He beamed. “Yes, I’m Hoseok. I’m 24, the middle brother. Please, call me oppa, we’re siblings now!”

He slung an arm over your shoulder and you couldn’t help but beam along with him. His bright energy was so infectious and immediately warmed you to him, drawing you into his orbit.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you replied, smile tugging at your lips. “I’m Y/N, 21 years old.”

“I’m so excited to have a cute younger sister,” Hoseok confessed as he walked you through the streets towards the house. “I was always jealous of my friends that could take care of their younger sisters, even though they acted like they were annoyed by them.”

You grinned more brightly. “Me too. I’ve been an only child all my life and having seven new brothers is very exciting to me.”

“You might want to take that back when you’ve met all of us,” Hoseok laughed. “You’ve met Jin-hyung, Namjoon-hyung, Jungkook-ah, right?”

Nodding, you spoke, “Yes, I have. Jin-ssi and Namjoon-ssi are very nice to me, but I don’t think Jungkook-ssi liked me very much…”

Hoseok waved it away. “Don’t worry, Kookie-ah doesn’t socialize well with girls. Or people. It took him ages to warm up to us after he got back from his grandparents.”

“Kookie-ah?” you asked curiously.

“Yes,” Hoseok grinned as he turned you onto a familiar street. “It’s our nickname for our youngest. He’s too cute not to tease.” Hoseok frowned as he remembered something. “Even though he is taller than me now.”

Hoseok was pretty tall himself, and you were starting to think that if you all took a family photo one day you’d look like the dwarf in the middle. Namjoon, Jin, and Jungkook just towered over you.

“On the other note, what do you do, Y/N? I’m curious about what my younger sister does.”

“I’m a university student at Yonsei, Hoseok-ssi,” you coughed, still not comfortable calling anybody oppa. “I’m studying psychology so I can be a counselor.”

“Yonsei? So my dongsaeng is a smart nut, I see,” Hoseok teased. “Did you know Jungkook before you met him as your brother?”

You shook your head. “I saw him around, but I only knew of him. What about you, Hoseok-ssi? What do you do?”

“I’m a dancer,” Hoseok announced, the house getting closer in view. “I’m part of this dance group, Neuron. We travel to perform and compete in competitions.”

“That’s awesome!” you clapped. “You must be very persistent. I tried ballet when I was younger and it was a disaster.”

“I haven’t heard that before,” Hoseok said, looking curiously at you. “Most people have told me I must be very talented or pull girls easily. But you’re right, I worked very hard.”

“What can I say?” you shrugged. “I just see through people.”

Hoseok guided you up the front steps of the doorway, fumbling through his pants to get his key. As he unlocked the front door, you heard the rumbling of a car going through the streets.

Going at least 100 kilometers per hour, a metallic blue Lamborghini skidded to a halt in front of the house. The weird doors stretched upwards and you saw both Jin and Namjoon emerge from the car.

“Y/N? Baby? Are you alright?” Jin asked worriedly, running up the front door.

“I’m good, Jin-ssi,” you comforted but he ignored it, taking your face in your hands and tilting your head to his view.

“Aish, those damn security guards!” Jin complained, clutching you to his chest and turning to Namjoon. “It’s your fault! Why did you give her that pass! She could’ve been detained! Put into cuffs like—like a criminal!” he ended dramatically.

Namjoon looked flabbergasted. “Me? You’re the one who got it!”

As the two descended into bickering, you peered at Hoseok from in between Jin’s arms. Your eyes screamed save me!

Hoeseok helpfully pried you from the still arguing doctor’s arms.

“Sorry about that, Jin is a bit protective over all of us— he practically raised us. We call him our mom sometimes,” Hoseok revealed, getting you into the house and leaving the now huffing and puffing duo on the doorsteps.

Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Moody Type, Taehyung! 

Chapter 7: Enter the Moody Type, Taehyung!

As you entered the house, the faint strings of what might be a Daniel Caesar song flowed throughout the house.

“Oh goodie, Taehyung must be here!,” Jin clapped, setting down his keys on a hook near the door. 

Namjoon snorted. “He’s the only one of us that listens to this moody shit.”

Through drought and famine, natural disaster, my baby has been around for me.

A door slammed somewhere on the ground level, and the click clack of heeled boots echoed like muffled gunshots on the marble of the house.

Kingdoms have fallen, angels be calling, none of that could ever make me leave.

Turning the corner, your heart stopped.

Leaning on the wooden doorway was the most heart-breakingly beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes upon. His dyed ash-grey hair was messy around his face, but behind his bangs peeked half-lidded eyes shaped like tear drops. A strong nose and pink lips, like the petals of a flower, were parted open as he stared through you.

“Oh? Is this our new sister?” he said softly, his gravelly voice filling the hall.

You grinned uneasily, fighting off the urge to cover yourself with a blanket or something. It wasn’t that his gaze was improper; those mercurial eyes just seemed to look through you.

“Taehyung, meet Y/N. She is our stepfather’s daughter,” Jin said carefully, eyes flicking between you like a tennis match.

It’s not fair, you thought. His clothes shouldn’t even match. The silky sleeveless tee had a paintbrush stroke across the chest and was bunched into baggy canvas pants covered in paint. It should’ve made him look like those wacky tube inflatables near car dealerships yet he looked like he walked out of a magazine.

“It’s nice to see you, Y/N,” Taehyung nearly whispered, head tilted to the side like he was evaluating a particular interesting museum installation. He made no move to shake your hand or embrace you.

“And you too, Taehyung-ssi,” you replied, bowing politely. He inclined his head.

“Well, I better get back to my red room. My pretties are coming along nicely,” Taehyung pronounced matter-a-factly, spinning sharply around to disappear into the dimly lit hall.

Namjoon face-palmed. “Well, now it sounds like he has a kinky sex dungeon. He just sees the world a bit differently than us, that’s all. It took some time for us to interpret his words when he came to us; for example, his pretties are his photographs.” The businessman looked suddenly pensieve. “Perhaps that’s why he’s so good at what he does.”

“Oh? What does Taehyung-ssi do?” you inquired, feeling like a strong breeze had swept into the room and left as suddenly as it came. You know that feeling? Where your skin tingles in the aftermath, your lips are suddenly dry, and like you could be knocked over the lightest touch.

“He’s a magazine editor, Y/N-ah,” Hoseok grins, putting down his heavy dancer bag on the couch carelessly. “It’s this really new-age, artsy magazine with a cult following. Maybe you’ve seen it? I think he named it something cryptic like ‘V’.”

“I’ll look into it, then,” you beamed, hoping to diffuse the weird tension that had settled on your shoulders.

———- 

Hoseok excused himself to take a shower and Namjoon had to take an important phone call, so it was just you and Jin left.

“Well, I know us five are at least here, and I know Jungkook is due to arrive soon from the gym. However, I don’t know if someone is going to drop by so I just leave an extra plate in the fridge just in case,” Jin said, stroking his chin.

“So, what’s on the menu today?” you asked playfully, taking a seat on the barstool.

Jin ruffled through the fridge, the fluorescent light highlighting his casual t-shirt. “Well, with what we have in the fridge, I can make some Chap-Chae and perhaps Kimchi Jjigae. However, we’d have a lot of chicken left and we need to eat it soon. Hm…”

“Jin-ssi, I know a good chicken recipe. Dakgangjeong? It’s this crispy fried chicken slathered in sweet and spicy sauce.”

The doctor frowned for a moment, leaning against the countertop.

“Is someone allergic? Or doesn’t like Chicken?” you asked worriedly, biting your lips.

Jin shook his head and chuckled. “No, everyone really likes fried chicken here. I’m just trying to remember if we have the ingredients.”

“That’s a relief, because it’s one of my favorite comfort meals.”

Opening the pantry, he bent down to look for something. “I think we do have everything here, thank goodness,” he grinned at you as he got up. “Do you cook a lot?”

“Yup, it’s my hobby,” you revealed, washing your hands at the sink. “I had to learn how to give myself food as a child.”

“Okay, awesome! You get started on the chicken and I’ll do the other dishes,” Jin said brightly, putting some ingredients on the table.

“Sounds good to me!”

You probably weren’t meant to hear it, but Jin giggled underneath his breath, “I have a sous-chef now.”

————

You put the finishing garnishes on your chicken and stepped back. The glaze looked very savory underneath the kitchen lights and dipping your finger into your glaze pot, it also tasted very good as well.

By the looks of it, Jin had finished with his two dishes. Wiping his hands with a towel, he put his hands on his hips and yelled, “Children! Get down here to eat, you punks!” 

As soon as you set down your plate of chicken, a multitude of footsteps resounded throughout the house.

Namjoon strode in first, only in a white shirt and trousers, and nodded coolly at you. The man looked very attractive out of his form-fitting workwear, and you wish your gaze hadn’t lingered on his tan, exposed skin.

Hoseok and Jungkook came in second, rough-housing with each other in the doorway before taking their seats. Hoseok greeted you brightly but Jungkook stared at you without a word before averting his gaze.

Finally, V came into the dining room in a more casual outfit of an oversized shirt and lounge pants, but still exuded an air of effortless grace. He grinned at everyone and plopped down into his chair.

“Alright everyone, eat up!” Jin fussed, setting down the steaming hot bowl and plate he was somehow carrying. You trailed after him with your dish grasped with both hands, hoping you wouldn’t accidentally trip and spill your hard work over the very expensive carpet.

You had to lean over Jungkook to place your chicken in the middle and you heard a startled “eep!” from beside you.

“Jungkook-ssi, are you alright?” You asked, sitting down in your seat next to him.

He nodded wordlessly, his ears red and gaze intensely focused on his plate. Running your eyes over him, you shrugged and grabbed your chopsticks.

The whole family dug in, loud and boisterous as people argued over which cut was better and devolved into personal attacks. Something warm curled up in your chest and warmed your cheeks, hoping to constrain the ridiculous smile that threatened to split your face. Is this how family looks like?

Watching Jungkook engage Taehyung in a very one sided conversation about the benefits of eating a certain part of the meat versus the other was very different than your empty apartment and lukewarm food.

“Wah, hyung, you’ve really outdid yourself with the chicken,” Hoseok gushed as he took a big bite of your chicken. “Please make it for us more!”

Jin chuckled, and set his chopsticks down. “I didn’t make it, so you’d have to ask her if you want more.”

Namjoon, with a strange light in his eyes, gestured to the nearly empty chicken plate with his chopsticks. “You… made this?”

Nodding in affirmative, you took a sip of your cola and cleared your throat. “Yes, I hope you guys liked it.”

Jungkook choked on his water and Jin rushed over to roughly pat his back. “Breath Jungkookie, breath!”

Hoseok yelled in delight and took out his handphone. “My cute little sister made this for me? Wow, my friends are going to be so jealous!” he grinned, snapping a few nice pictures of your glazed chicken.

Jungkook recovered at this point and was trying to fend off mother-hen Jin. “Hyung, I’m fine! I swear! You don’t have to baby me!,” he whined, cheeks red. “Besides, it was probably a bone or something.”

Your oldest brother huffed and sat back roughly into his seat, muttering something about ungrateful kids, while you tried to roll Jungkook’s comment over in your head. Bone? You used boneless chicken?

Deciding to push it away from your mind, you discreetly glanced at your cell phone and realized it was nearing 8 o’clock.

“Oh dear,” you muttered, catching the attention of the men at the table. “It’s almost 8 o’clock and I need to get home to water my plants,” you fretted.

As if on cue, a crack of thunder shook the table and you heard the rain start to hound at the windows and walls.

“Well, I be-leaf they’re getting watered,” Jin commented, cleaning up the last parts of his plate.

Staring at him in disbelief, you started to giggle and soon you were clutching your stomach with how hard you were laughing. 

“Did she like his shitty joke that much?” Jungkook whispered not so discreetly to Namjoon, who looked a bit weirded out himself.

“I’ve- I’ve never met a man with such awful jokes,” you laughed, wiping a tear from your eyes. “But I can’t help finding them so funny.”

The doctor aha-ed and pointed at Jungkook. “See? My jokes are so bad that they’re good!”

Snorting in disbelief, the youngest brother leaned back into his chair with his arms crossed over his built chest. “She’s our sister, she’s obligated to,” he murmurs sulkily. He sneaks a peek at you and you giggle at his adorable moodiness, to which he reddens and avoids your gaze.

Namjoon looked worriedly out the window, quickly turning on the news with his phone.

“— strong windstorms and rains are going to be surrounding Seoul overnight—”

“I can’t, in good conscience, let you go back home in this weather,” Namjoon stated, eyes flickering between you and the loud weather outside.

You hesitated. You were kind of worried for Mr. Ukyo, your cute succulent on the porch. “I—”

“Y/N, please,” Hoseok begged. “What kind of brothers would we be if we left you alone tonight? Stay in. We have a guest room with all the stuff you need.”

“I… okay. Thank you guys,” you smiled uneasily.

Hoseok laughed and patted your back as he got up to put his plate away.

“Sleepover…” Taehyung mumbled as he passed by you. On his way out the door, he gave you a boxy smile that tugged at something in your head.

Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Cool Type, Yoongi! 

Chapter 7: Enter the Cool Type, Yoongi!

“Hi, my cute dongsaeng!” announced Hoseok as he strode into your guest room. “I come bearing gifts!”

You grinned at your exuberant brother as he danced through your doorway, having a pile of stuff in his arms.

“We usually don’t have guests over, but sometimes our mother stays at the house and now we have a bunch of, uh, woman stuff,” Hoseok coughed.

“Thank you, Hoseok-ssi,” you said, moving to sort through the items.

“Call me oppa,” Hoseok whined.

Namjoon peeked through your doorway and saw Hoseok pouting at you, and instantly wacked the back of his head.

“Yah, you literally just met her today. Let her grow more comfortable with us first,” the businessman scolded, before turning to you.

“We have some t-shirts and shorts that don’t fit Jungkook anymore but please don’t tell him that we kept his childhood items,” Namjoon shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “I got you a toothbrush and toothpaste, plus some face products.

“You’re really kind, I feel like I’m in a hotel,” you joked, moving to plug your phone into the wall outlet. The place felt like your hotel suite suddenly got upgraded. This guest room was bigger than your entire living room and everything was so nicely decorated, you couldn’t help but gawk like a tourist at the fancy light fixtures and furniture. Maybe if you broke a vase you’d have to work in a host club...

“Ah, really? That’s nice to hear,” Namjoon said, sitting down in an armchair near the window overlooking Seoul and the Han River. He steepled his fingers together, tilting his head at you. “However, if you moved in, this room would be yours.”

Your slight smile turned slightly downwards and Hoseok, sensing the change of mood easily, turned over and whacked Namjoon over his head.

“Who’s the one going too fast now?” Hoseok retorted, before plopping down on the chair opposite of Namjoon.

“No, no, you’re fine, Namjoon-ssi,” you acknowledged. “I just… I don’t want to intrude. Plus, the amount of testosterone in this building…” you trailed off.

“Y/N-ah, we just met you but we already know you’d be a good fit with our family,” Hoseok said, smiling softly at you. “Seriously.”

“I don’t want to seem overbearing and I know you’re very independent, but the idea of you living alone worries Jin-hyung and I,” Namjoon confessed, wringing his hands and looking towards the window. “What happens if there is any emergency? Or you got sick? It’d be hard for us to take care of you.”

Tears welled up at the edge of your vision and your mouth twitched downwards. Quickly pressing a hand to your mouth, you averted your eyes from the boys.

“Y/N-ssi, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” Namjoon asked worriedly, getting up from the armchair.

You waved him away, discreetly wiping your nose. “I-I’m fine, Namjoon-ssi. Really. I’m just really emotional all the sudden, that’s all.”

“Y/N-ah, are you sure?” Hoseok piped in concern, craning his neck to see your face.

A hand thrust some tissues in front of you and you took them gratefully, dabbing at your eyes.

“I- I just…” you sucked a breath in, and turned towards the fretful pair of brothers. You suddenly beamed at them, eyes crinkling into crescents and grin splitting your cheeks despite the visible tear tracks on your cheeks. “I’ve never had someone care for me. Thank you.”

The two boys felt their heart stutter at the surprisingly vulnerable confession from the ever-polite yet distant you. They shared a look.

We’re in trouble.

———-

The house quieted down and all the lights were turned out as the rain seemed to get louder. However, despite the busy day, you tossed and turned in the very comfy cotton sheets.

Turning on your side, you watched the rain stream down your window in awe. While the window was big, a building partially blocked your view of the Han river and the Seoul skyline. You unplugged your phone from the charger on the wall and looked at the time. 1 A.M.

For some reason, you couldn’t sleep. Perhaps it was the unfamiliar environment or the dozens of thoughts crowding your head, but you couldn’t force your head to turn off despite counting hundreds of sheep.

Letting out a frustrated groan, you untangled yourself from the sheets and set your feet on the heated marble. Padding quietly to the door, you tried your best to open and close the heavy wooden door softly.

The house seemed bigger when it was not filled by the loud voices and eclectic, varied personalities of your brothers. Clutching a throw blanket over your shoulders, you made your way down the stairwell with only the city’s lights shining through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows around the house.

Flicking the low lights on in the kitchen, you searched the many cabinets for where they kept their tea packets. You finally found a jar of chamomile tea in a corner of the pantry, turning on the tea kettle and waiting for it to boil.

Leaning against the corner, your eyes got accustomed to the dark of the living room and roved over the personal effects of the brothers. There was a large picture of all seven boys on the mantle of the fireplace with their mother sitting in the middle, however, you could not see the faces of the two brothers you had not met due to the reflection in the glass.

Could you see yourself living here? With the amiable and fussy Jin, and the mature, erudite Namjoon? Wake up every morning to see the infectiously bright Hoseok at the counter and the mercurial Taehyung floating through the house like a wraith? Even go to school with your confusing classmate, Jungkook?

The kettle whistled loudly and you took it off its burner, pouring water into a cup. Flicking off the underhead lights in the kitchen, you padded towards the living room and curled up on the outrageously soft, leather couch. Blowing on your tea, you took a sip as you gazed in wonder at the rain streaming rivers over the large, bay window.

For years, the rain had been your only friend when your father traipsed the globe. It had softly knocked at your window to check if you were okay when you were sick and playfully splashed you when you were sad. The rain sang you to sleep every night when you were young and alone, afraid of the thundering din outside.

Looking at the portrait of the seven boys, you saw a new family.

Smiling into your tea cup, your mind was made up.

A loud beep rang throughout the house and a click reached your ears. Your eyes tried to look through the darkness at the basement entrance, where a figure clad in all black emerged. Feeling a momentary panic seize your heart, your fingers tightened over your mug and you tried to think straight. This was probably your other brother, Yoongi or Chimmy.

“Oh? Who are you?” A raspy voice said, shutting the door behind him. “Are you one of my brother’s girlfriends?”

Shaking your head, you got to your feet. “No, I’m your new sister, Y/N L/N.”

The figure made an affirmative noise and removed his shoes at the massive shoe closet next to the entrance. “Ah, I see. I’m Yoongi, your second oldest brother.”

A crack of thunder shook the house and a few seconds later, bright white lightning flashed through the room and illuminated you both.

In that split second, you saw pitch black hair constrained by a headband. However, what caught your attention was his eyes. Contrasted against pale skin and fierce, arched brows, were lids shaped like the outstretched wing of a bird. He stared at you lazily before they widened minutely.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Yoongi-ssi.”

“You too,” he mumbled and bowed politely, shuffling up the stairs like a gloomy specter.

You blinked a bit at how calmly he took this into stride. Christ, were your brothers fazed by anything?

—————

“Y/N-ah. Y/N-ah, wake up!”

You groggily opened your eyes to see Jin close to your face, his brows bunched together in concern.

“Y/N-ah, are you alright? You’re on the couch.”

Straightening up you could see that you, indeed, were still on the couch. You must’ve fallen asleep while watching the rain.

“Oh, yeah, I am,” you stated, rubbing your eyes and yawning. “I must’ve fallen asleep here last night.”

Jin sat across you and looked worried. “Did something happen last night? Was the guest room not comfortable? Did—”

“Oh no, nothing like that!” you tried to say. “The sound of the rain was better here.” 

He looked at you strangely but accepted it with a shrug of his shoulders. “Anyway, I’m about to make breakfast, why don’t you clean up a bit? I’ll wake up the other brothers.”

You nodded and almost stumbled trying to get off the couch, before Jin caught you with an arm. You turned your head to see his face uncomfortably close to yours.

“Careful,” he whispered, his minty breath trailing across your cheeks and his eyes roving your face.

You felt your cheeks heat up before you almost threw yourself out of his touch. “Yeah, um, thank you!” you yelled behind you before you fled to upstairs.

————

By the time you cleaned your face and put on a bra, all of the boys— in various states of consciousness— were gathered around the dining counter.

“Y/N-ah!” Hoseok said enthusiastically, obviously one of the more awake ones. He wore a pair of flowered pants that ahjummas usually wore and white, long-sleeved tee. “Yoongi came in last night, he’s our other brother.”

“We met last night, Hoseok-ah,” Yoongi mumbled into a large cup that, hilariously, was engraved with the words “Daddy-Size”. “I came home around 1 AM and saw her on the couch.”

“Oh, was everything alright?” Namjoon inquired politely, stretching his broad muscles as he yawned. Even his loungewear looked professional.

Smiling uneasily, you took a seat at the counter next to Jungkook, whose head was buried in his arm. “Yeah, couldn’t sleep and the city lights calmed me down,” you reassured.

Jungkook suddenly jerked awake next to you, alarmed eyes peeking through his messy black hair. “H-huh?”

You grinned at him. “Good morning, Jungkook-ssi.”

He mumbled a good morning in the direction of the ground before his eyes zoomed into something at your collarbone.

‘Y/N-ssi, i-is that my shirt?” he asked shyly— the first words he has directed towards you.

You looked at the oversized navy shirt, which you had tucked into the pair of denim shorts you wore yesterday. “I think? Namjoon told me it was one of your own.”

His gaze whipped to Namjoon and he started sputtering as Namjoon snickered, putting on a pair of thick-framed glasses.

Suddenly, Jin swore as he looked at his phone. “Sorry guys, but there’s an emergency at the hospital. I need to go,” he said rushedly, racing to the closest to put on a pair of tennis shoes. “Yoongi, cook for them!”

He shut the basement door with a slam and suddenly the house was silent.

“Yoongi-hyung, please,” Taehyung, who had emerged from some hallway, begged with a pout on his petal lips. His voice was extra raspy this morning.

The black-haired man grunted before hiding his face behind his coffee cup. You took that as a no.

“We’re going to starve,” Jungkook complained into Hoseok’s shoulder, who cooed and patted the muscled man cutely.

“Well, I can cook for us if you’d like? As a thank you for letting me stay over?” you said nervously. All eyes turned towards you and you gulped, not used to having all of your brothers’ attention on you.

“That’d be lovely,” Namjoon said, squinting at a novel he had produced out of nowhere.

“Aw, is our cute dongsaeng going to cook for us? I’m living the dream,” Hoseok sighed dramatically.

You snorted and got out of your seat. “I saw enough ingredients for what I want to cook, so just sit tight.”

The boys thanked you and some exited the kitchen towards the living room. You tried to remember where you saw the ingredients yesterday, but the kitchen was extremely big and had those weird cabinets where you had to push in a certain corner to open.

“Uh, where are the onions?” you asked no one in particular.

“Yoongi-hyung,” Hoseok nudged the still tired looking man. “Next to Jin, you know the kitchen the best.”

The black-haired sighed heavily and got out of his seat, leaving the “Daddy-Size cup” on the counter. He opened the fridge and bent down to a drawer you hadn’t seen. “Green onions.”

You took the bag and thanked, expecting him to leave the kitchen. “What else do you need?”

He stood there, eyes boring a hole through your face. Even as he was sleepy, he still looked like a cool older brother.

Scanning the ingredients, counting the things you had and didn’t, you turned back to him. “Um, I just need butter, tomatoes, and cheese.”

Wordlessly, he grabbed the ingredients and set it down on the counter next to you. Really expecting he’d leave, he surprised you by pulling out a chopping board and knife.

“How do you need the onions and tomatoes cut, Y/N-ssi?” he asked roughly, raspy voice causing the hair at the nape of your neck to rise. You shook your head. He’s your brother, for god’s sake!

“I need both diced, but slice some of the tomato into thin wedges for presentation,” you asked politely.

He nodded and washed both of the vegetables, before quickly and neatly dicing them with an experienced hand.

You broke the eggs and as you whisked the egg mixture with a pair of chopsticks, you decided to break the silence.

“How old are you, Yoongi-ssi?” 

He didn’t pause in his slicing. “25 years old. How about you?”

“21, but turning 22 soon.”

Yoongi hummed and started on the tomatoes. “Ah, that means you’re university age then. Are you attending university right now?”

Nodding, you grabbed some salt and pepper to add flavor to the omelette.  “Yeah, I’m actually attending Yonsei with Jungkook-ssi. What about you?”

“I’m a freelance producer,” he said carelessly, neatly scraping diced tomato onto a plate. “But I graduated from an arts college overseas in classical performance.”

It seemed like many of the brothers were artistically-inclined, you noted as you washed the spinach. But it amused you that this cool-looking brother of yours, with pierced ears and effortlessly stylish street clothes, could play a fancy-looking instrument.

Your step brother cleared his throat and he stepped back. “Is there anything else you need me to do?”

You looked at the finely chopped tomatoes and onions and shook your head. “No, that’s all. Thank you for helping out.”

He inclined his head and padded out of the kitchen, collapsing on the couch with his hoodie over his head.

Turning on the heat, you put the omelette mixture in the pan and waited for it to cook through. As you were gathering the other ingredients to put in the pan, a chin nestled itself onto your shoulder.

“Oh? What is this?” a deep, husky voice rumbled next to your ear.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw Taehyung’s finely chiseled face so close to yours. Squeaking, you turned your attention back to the pan.

“Breakfast omelettes, Taehyung-ssi,” you replied a bit shakily, feeling the weight of his head on your shoulder and his breath puffing into your ear. “I hope you like it.”

Adjusting his bent over position, he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face into the crook of your neck. “I will, Y/N-ah. It’ll be delicious.”

Your face flamed and you willed the egg to cook faster, trying not to focus on how his large hands pressed warmly into your stomach.

“Hyung!” Jungkook exclaimed, barrelling out of nowhere. “Hyung, you can’t do that! Stop!” 

“Oh? Why not?” the editor asked monotonously, his lips moving over the sensitive skin of your neck. You stiffened and muffled a squeal, neary getting hot oil over your fingers. Your muscled classmate tried, unsuccessfully, to tug Taehyung’s arms from your body but for some reason, Taehyung’s hold on you was ironclad.

In the midst of Jungkook screaming in the background and the shouts of your other brothers, Taehyung sighed heavily and melted into your body. “I miss this,” he murmured.

Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Cheeky Type, Jimin! 

Chapter 8: Enter the Cheeky Type, Jimin!

Over the next few days, you slowly got used to the vibrant and varied personalities of the boys. The brothers were a rowdy bunch but they coaxed you out of your shell with unintentional hilarity and clumsy warmth. Even Jungkook, with your weird first meeting, took to accompanying you throughout school and engaging you in shy conversation. Visiting the house frequently, someone was always there to entertain you and coerce you into trying to move into the house.

However, as the days passed by, you saw neither hide nor hair of the mysterious seventh brother. None of the brothers seemed to be fazed. One day, as Namjoon drove you home, you decided to press the subject.

“Namjoon-ssi? Who is my seventh brother? I haven’t heard much of him,” you inquired shyly.

He hummed, leaning an arm casually against the window and driving between lanes with just one hand. Namjoon didn’t drive as recklessly as Jungkook, per se, but he seemed to think other cars were just nuisances on the road.

“I was wondering when you’d ask about that. Our other brother is not home a lot because he’s usually on tour,” Namjoon revealed in his deep voice. “He’s an idol.”

You gasped and looked at Namjoon in surprise. “You’re fucking with me.”

He chuckled, a chocolatey, rich sound that filled your ears and did funny things to your belly as he turned to exit the highway. “No, I’m not. Our little Chimmy is an idol.”

Taking out your phone, you opened up the web app. “Chimmy? Is that his name? Or does he have a stage name I need to find.”

Namjoon shook his head. “No, his name is Jimin. 23 years old, debuted 3 years ago.”

Smacking your head, you exclaimed, “Oh wait! I know him! I saw his birthday ads all over Seoul a few days ago. Wow, my brother is a celebrity, huh?” 

Typing his name into the search bar, millions of results popped into your browser. Gorgeous, fan-taken photos filled the image section and you clicked on one.

Wow. Jimin looked ethereal on stage, in a loose, white shirt and tight, black pants as he performed some sort of strenuous dance move. His plump lips, sharp jawline, and high cheekbones were still stunning in low quality photos. You were seriously starting to think your stepmother secretly paid for them from a lab. It really wasn’t fair that you, an average 4, were now related to solid fifteens. 

You clicked on a video with nearly 12 million views of him at a fanmeet event, his eyes crinkling and lips pulled up in a grin as he did aegyo for his adoring fans.

“He’s very popular, isn’t he?” you asked Namjoon rhetorically.

Namjoon snorted. “An understatement. We can’t go out in public with him unless he covers his hair and his entire face. He has security tailing him when we go to crowded places, it’s ridiculous.”

Something clicked in your head. “Ah!” you exclaimed. “That’s why you guys live there! And here I was, thinking you were all paranoid.”

His laugh filled the car again and you got a whiff of his musky cologne as he leaned over to adjust the air conditioner. “Yeah, even when we moved there a few years ago before Jimin’s popularity exploded, he had some crazy fans. Seoyeon, Jin, and I decided to choose Hannam Hill for their security.”

“You’re such good brothers,” you grinned at him. You swore you saw a hint of red beneath his collar as he cleared his throat.

“And we’re lucky we’re gaining such a good… sister.”

You tapped at your purse. “At least with my residence pass I won’t be detained now.”

The man next to you groaned and nearly facepalmed into the driver’s wheel.

“Do you have to remind me of this? I take it back, my sister sucks.”

——— 

Jungkook and you walked through the campus gates, finished with the Calculus class and exhausted after the test.

“Wait, shit, did I derive number eighteen right?” you fretted, your sweaty hands fiddling with your bag strap. “Oh my god now, I didn’t foil correctly!”

“Relax, Y/N, you did fine,” Jungkook snorted, no longer as painfully shy as he was when he first met you. You never did get why he had such a violent reaction to you at first, though.

“Easy for you to say, Mr. I-don’t-study-yet-I-still-get-A’s,” you huffed in annoyance, accidentally bumping shoulders with him.

He laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. An ‘eep!’ escaped your mouth but you found you couldn’t protest as Jungkook looked down at you with the cutest, bunny smile you had seen.

“Relax, Y/N. It’s just one test.”

You sulked and crossed your arms, trying to push the heat in your cheeks away. Clearing your throat you ducked from underneath his arms. You thought you saw a flash of disappointment in Jungkook’s face, but you quickly linked arms with him so you could walk more comfortably. His eyes widened and he looked upwards, the tips of his ears a flaming red.

Ignoring several stares from your fellow university students, you walked to the campus parking lot where Jungkook had parked his car.

“Jungkook-ah? Which car did you drive today?” you asked, flushing a bit as you heard your own words. Imagine what the you from a few weeks ago would’ve said. What kind of rich bitch did you turn into?

“The silver one. The Mercedes,” he said casually but you knew he was beaming with pride. He had revealed to you, one day when driving home, that he bought this car with his streaming money and not with cash from his brothers or family. Jungkook was insanely protective of this car. 

“Gotcha.”

Throwing your bags into the backseat, he started up the car. Feeling that it was a bit hot, you decided to roll down the window. Fumbling for a hair tie in your bag, you decided that putting your hair up would be smart.

“—gry, Y/N?”

“Huh?” you asked confusion, hair tie in your mouth. 

“I just asked if you were hungry, Y/N?” he said, voice trailing off in a question as he looked up from his phone. His eyes widened at you.

“Um, not really? But if you are, I can whip us up something once we get home,” you said confidently, twisting your hair into the tie. Huh, when did you start calling it home?

“... Jungkook?”

He nervously cleared his throat as you looked at him, pulling back your hair into the tie. The tip of his ears were red and he seemed a bit flustered. Your brother fumbled with the controls, accidentally turning on the windshield wipers. Biting back a smile, you smoothed down your hair.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

————— 

The house was silent as the two of you entered. It seemed no one was in the house today, all of your brothers very busy with their respective jobs.

“I’m going to take a shower, Y/N, “ Jungkook said as he climbed up the stairwell. 

You hummed affirmative as you threw your bag at the foot of the coffee table, collapsing into the comfy leather couch. Switching on the TV, you couldn’t find anything interesting so you settled on an entertainment channel.

“Thousands of fans crowded Incheon Airport’s International Terminal today…”

Snuggling into a sun spot on the couch, you nuzzled your face into a pillow. The warmth made you feel drowsy and you decided a quick nap was alright. Nodding off, you could hear the shower turn on upstairs.

“...as international Hallyu star Jimin arrived back in Korea …”

—————

“Oh? Who are you?”

You groggily opened your eyes to the high-pitched voice that was honey to your ears, an unconscious “huh?” coming out of your mouth. In your bleary vision, you saw lavender-blonde hair and pink, plump lips hovering above you.

The man snickered and you felt a smooth hand grasp your jaw to turn your head upwards. Your eyes focused and you swore you were still dreaming, because the face so close to yours could only be an angel’s. Ethereal eyes like a storm looked lazily down at you, his high cheekbones and narrow jaw highlighted by the warm light of golden hour.

“Are you a fan? You shouldn’t be here,” he scolded in a sing-song voice, clicking his tongue as he stroked a thumb over your chin.

You couldn’t think after being awoken from such a deep REM cycle and being near such an unearthly man, your thoughts jumbled and disjointed.

“Naughty, naughty girl,” he whispered, minty breath puffing against your face. “Well, if you’re here, I might as well make the most of it.”

With strength you hadn’t expected, he suddenly caged you into the couch— a leg between yours and the other on the floor, his hands trapping your hands above your heads. His silk shirt brushed against the exposed skin of your belly, making you shiver.

“H-hey!” you said, regaining your thoughts. “What the hell?”

He chuckled, a cruel edge to his voice as his face neared yours. “Oh, playing the innocent card are we?” His lips neared your ear and you froze, eyes wide as his plump lips brushed against your earlobe. “Don’t worry, baby girl, you’re pretty enough to pull it off.”

The man started to press a kiss at space between your ear and neck, and slowly started to trail down your sensitive neck. You inhaled sharply as his teeth and tongue prodded at your skin and he snickered, his voice vibrating against your skin. An involuntarily squeak left your lips as he bit playfully at your collarbone.

“H-Hyung?”

You both turned to see Jungkook, hair still wet from the shower, staring at you two in disbelief. His eyes were wide and his lips were opened in shock as he suddenly froze in the middle of the living room.

“Jungkookie!” the man said brightly, no trace of the breathy, seductive voice he had used to lull you into a trance. His limbs no longer trapped you as the lavender haired man sprang up and ran to the stock-still Jungkook.

“Aw, Jungkookie, I missed you,” the familiar yet still unknown man cooed as he clung to Jungkook’s broad shoulders. “It’s been so long,” he whined, lips pursed in a pout.

Still breathless from lavender boy’s attentions, you sat up on the couch and saw stars as the blood rushed to your head. Blinking to clear it away, you reached up to your neck to touch the spots where lavender boy had touched.

“Jungkook-ah?” you whispered, voice rough from lack of use. “Who’s this?”

Your classmate still stared at you in shock as lavender boy clung to him like a leech, cooing at Jungkook.

“Aw, is this your girlfriend, Jungkookie?” Angel boy said fretfully after a moment of silence. “I’m so sorry, I thought she was a fan! Forgive me!”

You cleared your throat nervously, righting your disheveled clothes and messy hair. “Look, I have no idea who the hell you are, but I am not Jungkook’s girlfriend nor your fan and either way, you should not be— be assaulting unsuspecting girls who just wanted to nap!”

“Who the hell am I?” Lavender boy retorted rudely, no longer seductive or cutesy as his eyes narrowed at you. “I live here, wench!”

“Well I’m about to, fool!” you sneered, crossing your arms.

“Jungkook-ie, call security as I deal with this clearly crazy lady!” The still unknown boy huffed, advancing towards you.

Jungkook finally got out of his trance and grabbed Jimin by the shoulder. “Jimin-Hyung, stop! Haven’t we talked about her in the groupchat a lot? She’s our new sister!”

Jimin froze and his eyebrows lifted minutely, whirling around to look at Jungkook. “Wait, what? We have a sister now?”

He looked at you differently, eyes scanning your figure disinterestedly. “Did Seoyeon—” he spat out the name like it was stale gum in his mouth, “—find another baby we didn’t know about? Another poor bastard like me?”

You got whiplash with how much he changed moods and started to inch away. Well, it seemed like your step brother was nothing like how he portrayed himself in the videos you had seen online about him. A frown pushed at your lips.

Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, hyung, mom got married again to Y/N’s father. She’s our new step sister now.”

Jimin stayed silent before he turned to you again, his eyes mocking. A shit-eating smirk crawled up his lips. “Well, sister dearest, welcome to the family!”

Arc: Character Introductions Ended. Press [ X ] to continue?

A/N: If you’ve watched BroCon and you’re curious to who each person is based on, here’s the guide:

Jin (Doctor) = A mixture of Uyko and Masaomi

Namjoon (Businessman) = Natsume

Jungkook (Gamer/ Uni Student) = Yusuke

Hoseok (Dancer) = Himself lol he was supposed to be Subaru but i didn’t want to make him super angsty. Don’t worry, in this story he’ll be more than just his stage persona :)))

Taehyung (Magazine editor) = Louis

Yoongi (Producer) = mixture of Yuusuke’s tsundere-ness and Iori’s calmness

Jimin (Idol) = Fuuto with a bit of Tsubaki’s personality

Anyways, if you enjoyed it, please comment and reblog!!! I appreciate any feedback you may have, whether it be a sentence or a whole dang paragraph— I love it all :))) Please, if you’re doing okay, please help me pay for school through my Ko-Fi (link in my profile).

Arc II: Decisions and Settling In will be released in a month!! Comment if you’d like to be tagged :))