#tangerine x sibling

[slut-f0r-u]

Are we too young for this?

A/N Inspired by 'Softcore' By The Neighbourhood. Clementine is readers code name

Pairings: Tangerine x sibling!reader, lemon x sibling!reader

Summary: The mission went wrong. Now you and Tangerine are being held hostage waiting for Lemon to save you.

Warnings:killing/assassins etc, probably bad spelling/grammar, angst, blood, swearing, kinda ooc

Everything hurt. You never wanted to open your eyes again but you heard tangerine softly calling your name. "Clementine." He said in a pained voice, "Please wake up." Tangerine must have saw you stirring awake. You open your eyes slowly, adjusting to the light and taking in your new surroundings. It was dark and dirty. You assume your stuck in a basement. You try to remeber what had happened but you fell short.

"Tan." You said so quietly he might not have even heard it if he wasn't paying such close attention to you. "What happened?" you finished. You finally looked up to see him covered in blood, he had a few scratches here and there but you couldn't pin point where all the blood was from. "Don't worry, Its not mine." He said seemingly reading your mind, "we got caught, some fucking assholes beat us up and trapped us down here." He said with a scowl.

You Tried to sit up but failed suddenly feeling a sharp pain in your side, you look down and see a large gaping hole in the side of your stomach gushing out blood. "Oh shit." you mumble and start to apply pressure to the wound, you hadn't even noticed it was there to dazed from getting knocked out or maybe it was the amount of blood you were losing. Tangerines eyes followed to where you were looking and they widened in suprise and worry. He quickly stood up, ripping his shirt and attempting to wrap your wound while muttering various curses at your attackers.

"Where's Lem?" You breathed out wincing in pain. "He made it out. But hes gonna come get us. I promise." He said, dismissing your worries that he was lying somewhere dead in a ditch. Suddenly you both heard loud footsteps walking down the stairs. You held your breath and prayed that it was just Lemon.

But it was not. The door swung open and a large man with a gun came down. You and tangerine said nothing just glaring at him with looks that could kill. The large man let out a manic laugh out of no where. This man was definetly insane. "What do you fucking want you twat." Tangerine growled out with a menacing look on his face, But the man just kept laughing. "What do I want? WHAT DO I WANT?" He cried out whilst still hystericaly laughing, "I want revenge." He suddenly stopped laughing and his expression turned dark. You and tangerine knew better than to speak to the very angry man hoping to stall him until lemon arrived.

"Your brother shot my family dead. Now I'm going to do the same to his!" He yelled raising his gun. You closed your eyes tightly and held your breath as you heard a gun shot. You hear a body drop to the ground and realise that it wasn't yours. You open yours eyes to see Lemon knealing in front of you saying something but you couldn't hear him because of th eringing in you ears.

You feel Lemon pick you up and start walking out. You turn your head to see tangerine limping beside you still on high alert. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion and you beginning to feel drowsy once again. You were young, younger than the twins. This should not be happening to you. You should be out living your life, making friends. Not fighting for your life every single day. You manage to look up at Lemon and mumble out a question only just loud enough that he could hear it, "Are we too young for this?"

He and Tangerine look down at you with pity in their eyes. How could they let you do this? You were still only a kid for fucks sake. You were 15 years old. They shouldn't have let you get into the game. They felt guilty. They were the reason you got hurt. They failed to protect you and now you all were paying the price. Just as Lemon was about to speak up you loose conciousness. They both begin to panic and walk faster to the get away car.

They decide its smarter if Lemon drives, and Tangerine sits in the back with you. He vows to never let you get hurt again. He would protect you with his life. Just like you would do for them.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

OMGG IM SO HAPPY THAT YOURE TAKING TAN REQUESTS HES LITERALLY MY BBG OMG ‼️‼️

So what about a reader who’s like Ellie from The Last of Us? So Tangerine and Lemon get this mission from their dealer that they have to deliver this girl to this place, like a cargo mission. And the girl is a very defiant teenager who just talks back and makes snarky comments to them (mostly to Tan T▽T). But then she ends up really trusting them and getting attached to them. I’m sorry if this is too detailed or if it doesn’t make sense 😭😭

I LOVED THIS REQUEST ANON 🤭🤭 lemon and reader are so silly heheh

Mentions of human experimentation, abuse, needles (nothing graphic or descriptive)

Annoying little sister

“Swear to god, can’t stand teenagers. This missions gonna be annoying, I can already tell.” Lemon said.

Tangerine scoffed “Says here that she’s snarky, and puts up a fight.”

“Like living hell basically.”

Tangerine stopped the car, looking at the warehouse you were in. It was guarded, heavily. They would have to sneak around.

“Shit. We better be gettin’ payed good for this girl.” Tangerine sighed,

“Why’s she so special?” Lemon asked.

“‘Parrently she’s some sorta superhuman or somethin’. Daughter of some billionaire. Human experiment I guess.” He read, and put the folder down.

“Shit, seriously? Sounds like some sorta movie stuff.”

Tangerine snorted, and opened the door quietly. They parked far away from it, and they hid behind some boxes and made their way to the back. A small door, still guarded but with less people.

They looked at each other, and looked back.

They fixed up, and stood up. They took out their guns to look like the others.

“What are you going in for?” A man stated, blocking them when they went over to the door.

“Boss wants us to go in and… interrogate..” Tangerine said, making something up on the spot.

The man furrowed his eyebrows. “Your Ethan?”

Tangerine nodded.

“Oh.. just expected you to look a lot… different. Come in.” He opened the door, tangerine and lemon couldn’t believe it had worked.

The inside was empty, it had a small room. They opened the door to you, handcuffed to the bed.

You didn’t see them as you thrashed on the floor, struggling in the handcuffs and groaning in annoyance.

You snapped your head to them when you finally saw them, you furrowed your eyebrows.

“What? Come here to feed me? Cause honestly I’m starving and you bitches don’t seem to have anything at all-“

You were confused when they went up to you and uncuffed you from the bed. Your hands still handcuffed however, as they roughly dragged you out. They snuck around the back again, breaking a window to distract them and leaving quickly in the car, the guards shooting it at the same time.

You then grabbed a small Bobby pin that was luckily laying on the ground when they weren’t looking. Then you were shoved into the car roughly, as they sped off.

You put your hands behind you, messing with the lock.

“So who exactly are you guys?” You questioned.

“We’re here to deliver you to someone.”

“Definitely not my dad, he don’t care bout me. So then who?”

They both ignored you, and you finally picked the lock, and put your arms on the seats.

“So where we going?”

They both looked at each other and then you.

“You seriously picked it?”

“It’s easy. I’ve done it tons. They took away all my Bobby pins though. Which makes sense because I kept breaking outta them.” You shrugged, and rambled on.

Lemon listened and he asked a question.

“So what’s the deal with your dad? And the whole human experiment thing?”

“Well, my dads just an asshole. Sure you heard of him, real famous, but he’s a asshole. He abused me and my family, blah blah sob story, and he’s the one who sold me into the human experiment thing. After that I was just passed around and giving blood 24/7.” You showed him your arm.

“Jesus Christ.” tangerine mumbled when he looked.

You shrugged “Im used to it by now. And now I’m guessing that you guys are just taking me to another buyer. More tests, yay.” You said,

Tangerine and lemon looked at each other. Tangerine knew what he was thinking. He stopped the car and parked it in an empty lot.

“Come on..” lemon said.

“No way.”

“She’s a kid.”

“I’m right here..” you mumbled.

“Exactly, she’s a kid. No. Way.”

“We can’t jus’ give her up!”

“I agree with this very nice gentleman over here.” You nodded to lemon.

“Shut it.” Tangerine said, whipping his head to you. “And it’s dangerous. Gonna be on the run if we do.”

“Don’t you remember when we were kids?”

“Don’t give me that bullshit-“

“She hasn’t had a childhood, think bout it. She didn’t have a childhood like we did.”

“Yeah, ain’t got no friends or nothing.” You said, fidgeting with the handcuffs. You picked up a book that was in the back of the car.

“Whoever is reading this shit is hornyyy.” You snickered, realizing that it was a smut. Tangerine snapped his eyes back and took the book.

“It ain’t for kids. It’s a good book.” He said, almost like a child himself.

Lemon snickered as well “And she’s got powers, how would she not be useful?”

“True. How do you think I got that bobby-pin from the floor? Can’t really bend down with handcuffs.” You held the handcuffs up.

Tangerine groaned in annoyance “You’re such a pain in my ass and we’ve barely known each other for five minutes.”

“That’s what I do.” You said, smirking as he drove off to a hotel for the night.

——————————————————————

That was 3 years ago, now you were fighting with them, at a different agency.

They would always say how your their “annoying little sister”

(Tangerine added the annoying part)

“Oooo, it’s so nice over here.” You laughed, looking at the shops all around the place, the neon lights and nice people. You guys were currently in Japan, going to do a mission on a train.

Lemon smiled as well, also looking around while Tangerine stayed focused.

“Focus.” He mumbled under his breath, pulling you two closer to him so that you didn’t go off path.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” Lemon said.

“He always wakes up on the wrong side of the bed.” You giggled and lemon snickered quietly, tangerine giving him a glare.

“Sorry, mate.”

Tangerine rolled his eyes, he could already tell this mission would be annoying with you two.

[eternalslover]

Bullet train incorrect quotes:

Tangerine: Lemon, am I ugly?

Lemon: Nonsense. I'm looking at you right now. You're the most beautiful boy in the world.

[meanwhile]

The son: Sister, am I ugly?

The prince: Very much.

[definitionsfading]

“How ‘bout instead of plotting premeditated murder off the clock, why don’t you think of something creative to do with that emancipated right hand of yours,” Lemon says, tucking back into his plate. “Take a pottery class, learn to watercolour. You wanna point and shoot so bad? I’ll buy you a camera.”

“I’m gonna point and shoot on your smart arse when we get home,” Tangerine says darkly from the corner of his mouth, eyes cutting across Lemon at a bawdy angle. “Mark my words on that one.”

3.2K, explicit; features some lemon body appreciation, feral tangerine, sensual massage, dry humping, frottage, and things getting super wet and messy (with a happy ending for both fruits)

also, tangerine gets a new gold bracelet when his cast comes off because he deserves it 😌

[parkerflix]

—bet u wanna

min ho x gn!reader

wc: 2.5k

genre: enemies to lovers(?), reader is Q’s twin not twin ( tangerine & lemon vibes)

synopsis: your back and forth flirting with min ho takes an unexpected turn during chuseok.

warnings: some mentions of self-doubt

a/n: 1st fic from the 1k celebration! I do have a part two in mind, but i’m not sure if people would like that! lmk ur thoughts!

edit: here is part two!

You made your way over to Q’s dorm, knowing that you would have to see him.

Minho was the bane of your existence, and you were never one to enjoy his presence. He had seemed to be in an even worse mood recently with Kitty’s arrival and her meddling with everyone’s life. You loved Kitty, even though she did have her moments where she was a little all over the place. You had actually met her before the rest did, talking to her sometimes when Dae was facetiming her and you were studying with him.

Knocking on the door, you were surprised to see Minho open the door. He stared you down for a second, the air being awkward between you two the only sound being the facial mister in his other hand.

“Are you going to just stand there or are you going to let me in?”

Minho rolled his eyes and moved out of the doorway to let you in.

Waltzing in, you took to knocking on Q’ door, hearing some groaning coming from the other side. You opened the door, seeing Q laying in his bed still half asleep.

Grabbing his blanket, you puled it off of him.

“Morning sleepy head!”

Q groaned and lifted his head up from his pillow.

“Why are you here now? I thought we were meeting up for coffee.”

“My sweet darling brother, I couldnt just come because I miss you?”

He squinted at you, not buying your story.

“Okay I wanted to seeing if someone was here, but it seems that they didn’t stay the night today.” before he could respond, Kitty walked into the room yawning and seemingly in her pjs.

Your eyes widened and so did hers when she realized you were standing there.

“Kitty!”

“Yn!”

“I promise this isn’t what it looks like-”

You backed out of the room, awkwardly shaking your head.

“It’s fine! I’ll just be out here!”

Closing their bedroom door you heard the most obnoxious laughter behind you. You took a deep breath in, and turned your head to see Minho sitting on their couch with a cup of tea in his hands. You went to go sit down next to him, sighing.

“So it looks like you found out.”

“Were none of you planning on telling me?”

“Of course I wasn’t going to tell you, I’m not your handler.”

“Well of course not, you’re my lover.” you said leaning close to his face, batting your eyelashes at him.

You both stared at each other, and he nudged you away, feeling slightly awkward with you so close to his face. He didn’t want you so close, his heartbeat being slightly faster at your proximity.

“Shut up. That’s not even remotely funny.”

“I never said it was a joke.”

You both started bickering about it, not noticing when Kitty and Q came out of their room.

They both stared at you guys arguing with a small smile on each of their faces. It seemed obvious to everyone except the two of you that you guys were into each other, but if they told you guys they knew both of you would start spiraling.

Q liked seeing his sibling so happy, especially with Chuseok around the corner. Both of you weren’t going anywhere since you guys were expats, but seeing everyone go home always made you more homesick than normal. He remembered when his parents decided to adopt you, saying it would be nice for him to have a sibling that was his age. He was worried that you were going not like him, but you both took to each other fast. Being joined at the hip since your adoption, you always joked that you guys were twins, despite not even having the same birthday. But you made sure no one knew that your birthday wasn’t even the same day, making everyone everywhere address you both as twins.

He cleared his throat which made both you and Minho turn your attention to him & Kitty.

“Are you ready for that coffee?”

—

You had spent more and more time in Q’s dorm now that you knew Kitty was also there. It was refreshing having someone else deal with the guys, even if she did have some drama with Dae.

You weren’t the closest with Dae this year, having distanced yourself with all the drama he was swept up in. You pitied him a bit, being able to clearly tell his relationship with Yuri was a facade. Still, with Chuseok being in two days, you knew that it would be hard for him.

Walking into the living room of your brother’s dorm, you sighed and threw yourself ontop of Q. He groaned when you landed on him, your elbow hitting him in the ribs somehow.

You smiled at the noise he let out, seemingly satisfied.

“Have you seen Dae today?”

“No, he went home already. Something I guess came up? I’m not too sure, he seemed a bit stressed out about it.”

You hummed, a bit sad about it. Dae had left KISS early, and you weren’t able to talk to him.

The front door opened, and Minho walked in, letting out a sigh when he saw you there.

“Oh great, you’re here.”

“Aw Minho, did you miss me?”

“Do you think a dog misses it’s fleas?”

You stuck your tongue out at him, and he reciprocated it.

“Do you two ever get tired of arguing?” Q said, looking up from his phone.

You rolled off of him and went over to Minho, wrapping your arms around him.

Minho tried swatting your arms away, but you squeezed him tighter.

“Aww come on Q, you’re telling me that you don’t think we love each other?”

Minho’s mouth dropped wide open when you said that, never wanting to hear the word love come out of your mouth pertaining to him.

“I could never love you, you’re too annoying.” He grumbled wiggling himself free from your grasp.

You pouted and let out a huff,

“Minnie, you’re being too mean.”

The face that he had made left you satisfied and you went back to the couch with Q.

The silence that encased the three of you wasn’t awkward per say but you could’ve done without it.

Minho cleared his throat and both you and Q whipped your heads towards him.

Minho had always thought you guys were sometimes weirdly in sync like that, and it made him second guess if you guys actually were twins.

“So, are you guys going to Kitty’s chuseok dinner?”

You blinked at him, not even knowing that Kitty was hosting a dinner.

Q nudged your arm and you glanced at him with a small frown.

“Yeah, we’re going, are you?”

“No, I have a date with Lulu that day.”

You smiled at the thought of him going on a thought with Lulu, knowing that somehow he would probably mess it up.

“Lulu, huh? Sound’s interesting.”

“We’ve been flirting since her trainee days, it’s going to be amazing.”

“Well it’ll be fun to hear about!”

Q had said something to Minho about it, but you tuned out of the conversation, sending a few texts back and forth with Kitty.

She asked if you were busy, and if you could help her with the grocery shopping for the dinner (you assumed she assumed you were down to go to the dinner).

You told her you could meet her at the entrance of their dorm building and she said she would be over there in a few minutes.

You quickly got up and grabbed you bag, giving Q a quick hug.

“You’re finally leaving?”

“Don’t worry Minnie, I’ll be back soon!” You blew a kiss at him and laughed at his reaction, leaving both boys shocked.

—

Kitty’s chuseok was finally here, and she was running around the dining area, grabbing the last few things for the table.

You had shown up a little earlier than everyone, having promised Kitty you would help set up. You were finishing the table settings, turning around to grab the last of the silverware, when you accidentally ran into someone.

“Sorry! I didn’t see you-”

“Of course not. You tend to not look.”

You made eye contact with Minho, who seemed unamused. You had a slight frown on your face, ignoring his quip.

Sidestepping him you scurried along, finishing your task.

Minho was caught off guard, you never didn’t respond with your own quip, always being a thorn in his side that he seemed to not be able to get rid of.

The rest of the night you ignored his presence, choosing to sit next to Alex and leaving him to sit with Madison. No matter how annoying he thought you were, he did think you were lightyears better than Madison. He felt off somehow, seeing you act so different. Yes you were still laughing and making jokes with everyone else, but he could tell that your smile didn’t fully reach your eyes, and that you seemed to keep your laughter short.

Before he could ask you if anything specific was wrong, his phone buzzed with a text from Lulu. He had been so focused on you ( and also ignoring Madison), that he had forgotten about his date. You had excused yourself from the table before he did, stating that you just weren’t feeling well. Q had given you a worried glance but you shook your head at him and he seemed to get the hint that you wanted to be alone. You had assumed it was the twin telepathy that you both have.

His eyes had followed your retreating figure, and he muttered a goodbye to Kitty who was confused that he was leaving. He mentioned his date with Lulu, and walked towards the exit, hoping he would find you around there before his date.

You sat on the steps of the school, pulling your sweater’s sleeves over your hands, letting the tears flow from your eyes. You were frustrated for feeling so homesick and wanting to act normal like your brother. He seemed to not be as homesick, knowing that sometimes your relatives could be harsh. He also seemed to be doing well this year, having a good group of friends and a loving boyfriend. You knew that even though his friends were also your friends, besides Kitty you sometimes felt that they felt forced to be around you.

Minho had found you sitting on the steps, and he wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to do, or say at this point. He had never expressed any interest in your emotions other than your annoyance, and he also was just horrible at comforting people. Ignoring the vibrating of his phone, he went and sat down next to you, waiting for you to realize he was there.

“Q, I love you but I wanna be alone right now.”

“Well, I’ll pass on the message to him.” you glanced at the owner of the voice you knew so well, not knowing what to say to him.

You sighed and turned your focus on the sky once more.

“Don’t you have a date to be getting ready for?” you had meant for it to come out snarky, but you both could tell it just came out more sad than anything else.

He nodded and hummed.

“Yeah. But you seemed to need someone to talk to. And lucky for you I’m not only incredibly attractive-”

“And humble apparently”

“But I’m also a great listener.”

You turned to meet his gaze, not seeing a hint of a joke in his eyes.

“I’m just homesick.”

He nodded, knowing how that felt. For him he felt homesick with his mother, spending time with her and getting to see her all the time. His father on the other hand– well he had assumed that a normal father-son relationship boiled down to sending presents when he seemed to remember he had a son.

“I know it’s dumb too, but I feel like I’m just annoying to everyone sometimes, and that everyone except for a few people only see me as Q’s sibling. I just feel out of place sometimes. It’s not always a feeling that’s there, but today it is.”

Minho didn’t realize that you had felt this way. As annoying as you could be, he found that you truly cared for your friendships, and always kept within boundaries. He knew that if he were to ask even your classmates you were well liked, keeping to yourself but willing to help those if needed.

“I know I’m probably the last person you wanna hear this from, but you’re not annoying.”

You gave him a skeptical look and he let out a soft laugh.

“Okay, sometimes you’re annoying. But you’re someone that people really enjoy to be around. I know whatever I say may seem hollow, but you really do mean a lot to people. I don’t think people just see you as Q’s sibling, I believe they see you for you. You’re kind, smart, and witty.”

You stared at him, a little shocked at how he saw you. All this time you thought he actually hated you, but perhaps you were wrong?

A small smile crept onto your lips, and he felt something in him swell at your smile.

“Thank you, Minho.” you whispered, fiddling with your sleeves.

He wasn’t sure what it was, but there seemed to be something between the two of you. Neither one of you said anything, the silence palpable . Both of you failed to realize that you were both leaning closer to each other’s faces, close enough to kiss until his phone started ringing.

The ringing snapped both of you out of whatever trace you were in, and he looked to see who was calling him.

You saw his phone screen light up with Lulu’s name and contact picture, and you immediately felt awkward. He had a date tonight, and whatever almost happened between the two of you was most definitely a bad idea.

Minho seemed torn as to what to do, until your voice reached his ears.

“Answer it.”

He hesitated for a moment longer before getting up from the stairs and answering the call.

Lulu was calling to let him know she was running a few minutes late, traffic being bad for no reason. She told him that she’d be there as fast as she could, and that she was happy to see him.

He nodded along to what she was saying, acutely aware that you were behind him, hearing him agree with what she said on the phone.

He quickly hung up and turned back around to apologize to you, noticing that you were gone.

You had left when he got up sprinting to your dorm, heart beating fast and head full of thoughts of what could’ve happened between the two of you if she hadn’t called.

[luna0713hunter]

Can I request cheek kisses with Luffy, but like platonic? Like, they aren’t biological related, but they act a lot like sibling and give each other platonic cheek kisses?

Author's not : this is such a cute idea!hope you like it!

You'll always be my best friend

Monkey d.Luffy x platonic!reader

Summary : you always wished for a sibling growing up,but when you grow up with Luffy by your side and later join his crew,you understand you always had a brother by your side.

Warnings : absolutely none!,platonic reader and Luffy,friends who act like siblings , childhood friends

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

When you hear Nami's shout from behind you,you and Luffy share a mischief glance before starting to run for your lives.

You knew Luffy since you were young.

Ever since you remember,you always wanted a sibling. Someone you could play with and do adventures alongside. So when you met Luffy one day,up on a three munching on fruits,you particularly became attached at hips.

Luffy dreamed big,ever since your childhood days. He dreamed of becoming the pirate king;of becoming someone worthy of Shanks' crew. And when he shared that dream with you under a blanket in your hiding spot inside Shank's ship,you knew you would live by his side and help him achieve that dream.

"Luffy!y/n!! I swear to god when i catch you two -!"

Luffy laughs by your side and as you fist bump him,you jump behind Sanji to protect yourselves from a very angry Nami. Sanji balances a tray of drinks in his hands with practice and lets out a small yelp. He sighs in relief when the glass dont fall down and break,and looks from you two to Nami and up to Nami's hair.

"What the-"

"they colored my hair!"

There's the sound of another pair of footsteps as Zoro climbs up the stairs;having woke up from his nap by the commotion.

"whats all the yelling abou-Whoa."

And when Usopp pops his head from between the doors,his mouth hangs open.

"i knew you and Zoro were related!!"

"Shut up,Usopp!!" Nami combs his now green hair with frustrated fingers and suddenly she's taking out a small pocket knife.

"I'm going to kill you two."

Sanji holds up his tray of drinks and steps backwards slightly.

"now now,no need for violence, Madame."

"step back if you dont wanna get killed either."

You look toward at Luffy from behind Sanji's strong form and giggle.

"she looks just like Zoro!"

"i know right?!your plan was brilliant!!"

"uh,guys," Sanji whisper/yells, "i suggest you two start running."

And when Nami lunged forward,you two jump and run for your lives.

Its a while before the two of you can hide from Nami. You try to sit comfortably behind the many supply boxes and grin when Luffy offers you half a tangerine. You much on the juicy fruit, groaning upon the sweet taste and look at the young boy sitting comfortably beside you.

"it was fun. But i think we're in danger for a few days."

"yeah. I think Nami's gonna kill us in our sleep."

The thought of Nami's green hair has you two stifling your giggles again. Luffy leans in,and presses his sticky-tangerine lips to your cheek,making you squeal while giggling loudly.

"dude!!you got tangerine juice all over me!"

And when Luffy laughs loudly,you jump on him and push him back on the floor,so while wrestling,try to kiss his cheeks to make them sticky as well.

The two of you fall asleep together like that.

Just like your childhood days,where the safest place was in Luffy's brother like embrace.

[americas1suiteheart]

Had this idea a little while back and decided to go on with it! Tell me how you guys feel about it.

Kleptomaniacs

[Tangerine x Kleptomaniac! Reader]

[Summary; You've been working with the twins for a good while now, and all whilst knowing them you've bonded with them through similar interests. For Lemon, Thomas the Tank Engine, and on the other hand as for Tangerine and you - kleptomania..]

[Notes; You've got a code name, so there's no use of Y/n but know that your "Citron," (When I tried to post this after finishing it up, tumblr gave out on me and deleted it completely off the face of the internet so I had to write it again. Thanks Tumblr)]

[Warnings; Swearing, Stealing, it's a Bullet Train fanfic what do you expect?]

"God are you guys seriously fuckin' doing this shit again? You guys are gonna get caught one day doing that and you two are gonna be fucked y'know that right?" Lemon groans.

You and Tangerine made a game to see how much shit you could steal before chickening out. You can't do anything worse than killing people for money so you two figured, why the hell not?

"Fuck off Lem," You and Tangerine say at the same time dismissing him.

"Citron, I think you've officially spent too much time with Tan."

"Hey you can't say shit Lem, you've brainwashed Citron here into thinking of people in terms of fuckin' Thomas the Train characters you twat," Tangerine says, sneaking a pack of sweets into his suit jacket.

"Don't say shit about Thomas the Tank Engine, and dont call me a twat, you're the right fuckin' twat you ass," Lemon says, pointing a finger at Tangerine.

"Will you two stop acting like children? I spend too much time with the both of you, and you've both got qualities that are fuckin' annoying, the both of you are twats." You groan, taking multiple trinkets and small toys and shoving them into your pocket.

"Fucks sake mate, your taking the fuckin' children's toys?"

"I can take what I want Lem, piss off," You hiss.

This is typically how you three interacted with eachother. Lots of bickering and cussing at eachother, almost like teenagers that just learned a new cuss word

You'd figured with the boys it was just how they talked being that they were siblings and grew up together. I mean, you had siblings too but you never talked that way with them. Maybe it was just the way they were raised.

But with you, maybe you started acting like them and having the same behaviour after knowing them for so long. You hadn't acted like this before you met them.

You and Tangerine had finally gotten your rush from taking things and you three left the store, walking to your car given to you guys for the mission.

"Alright, start countin' everything you have," You say, getting everything out of all of your pockets and such.

"You guys have a fuckin' problem, I've said it multiple times and I'll say it again. You need to fuckin' see someone about that shit." Lemon shakes his head disappointingly at you two.

You and Tangerine ignore him as to not loose count of your stolen items.

The two of you finally finish, then looking at eacother and saying what you had in total. "32," You smirk, overly confident you had more.

But you already know you've lost when a cheeky smile appears on Tangerine's face, "47."

Your mouth hangs agape, staying quiet for at least 20 seconds. That's the most either of you had ever taken the four years you've known eachother so far.

"The worst part is that most of that shit is just sweets," Lemon says breaking the silence.

"Fuck off Lem," Tangerine hisses.

"Got a sweet tooth eh?" You chuckle, poking fun at him.

"I aint got no fuckin' sweet tooth, the sweets just so happened to be the easiest and least childish things to steal." Tangerine says, turning on the car.

Tan always liked to uphold this "tough manly guy," sort of figure. For example, when you're at a petrol station market and you and Lemon are over getting sugary drinks such as pop or juice, you best believe Tan would be getting water or a black coffee calling you two children.

"And sweets aren't childish?" Lemon raises his eyebrow.

"I didn't even get them for me you fuckin' bellend, I know you two like that sugary shit." Tangerine says.

"Wow, when did Gordon become an Edward," You say, giving Tangerine a cheeky grin.

Tangerine just sighs in defeat, knowing you and Lemon will end up teasing him just to mess with him the rest of the time regardless.

The ride back to the hotel was fairly calm, you and Lemon eating the stolen sweets and showing off the small toys you took as well, when you suddenly remembered something else you'd gotten for the both of them at another shop.

"Lemon, can you hand me that bag right there please?" You say, pointing to the small, blue bag next to him.

Lemon nods and hands you the bag from the back, you reaching over to grab it from his hands.

You take out a small plastic wrapped Thomas The Tank Engine phone charm and hand it to Lemon.

Lemon's face immediately lights up as he takes it out of its packaging, putting it on his phone and fiddling with it.

"Got this for you too, Tan," You say, turning to him and handing him a small satin bag.

"You steal this too?" Tangerine says, glancing at the bag before returning his eyes to the road.

"No, no. I actually bought that, I don't steal sentimental gifts I give, I'm not a fuckin' monster," You say, putting your hand on your chest in fake offense.

Tangerine gives you a judgemental glance.

"What is it?" He asks, still holding the small bag in his hand.

"Open it,"

Tangerine smiles and opens the bag with one hand, taking out a silver and blue colored star engraved ring.

"Its a promise ring. I saw it in a shop and figured we should get matching ones. I hope its your size, I kinda just guessed," You say, showing him your right hand that the ring was on.

"This is lovely, darling. Thank you.." Tangerine says with a loving smile, quickly putting it on his right hand with all of his other rings.

"You two are just right fuckin' sops for eachother it's sickeningly sweet," Lemon says, a cheeky grin on his face.

Tangerine mumbles something both you and Lemon couldn't hear, though by the tone it was very clearly not anything nice.

After a while longer, you three finally make it back to the hotel, Lemon checks all of you in and you all walk up to your hotel room.

As soon as you get in Lemon sets his stuff down and heads to the restroom for a shower, leaving you and Tangerine alone with eachother as you two unpack your bags.

"Tangerine?" You speak out, turning to look at Tangerine who was putting his clothes into the bottom drawer of the hotel room dresser.

"Yes, love?" Tangerine says.

"Thank you. For staying with me even when we go through all this shit. It's stressful and keeping relationships has never been easy for me with this job, you're the only one that's stayed this long and I want to let you know how grateful I am for it." You say, putting what you were doing aside so you could talk to him without any distractions.

Tangerine's head perks up a bit, then turning to look at you.

He smiles sweetly and walks over to you, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

"Darling, you have no clue how happy I am that you've stayed with me the same. I know I can be difficult at times as well," Tangerine said, voice barely above a whisper.

You rarely ever get to see a softer side of Tan, but when you do you try to savor it as much as possible.

"You guys, are fuckin' disgusting. What I just saw there was right fucking nasty." Lemon says, standing in front of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Fuck off Lem."

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

[Quick Authors Note! Sorry I haven't gotten to these requests and other stuff these past few months, I've been busy and have had other stuff get in the way. I know this isn't much but I'm trying to clean up my drafts.

[kithtaehyung]

anytime (3tan) (m) | myg

title: anytime pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that  rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: your brother is finally back. which makes for a bunch of conflicting worries that you may need to address. warnings: angst, yoongi in general lol, lots of dialogue i’m so sorry, tae being a menace, yoongi on the phone, 3tan sibling scenes!!, thinking thinking, jimin being jimin, masturbation, dirty talk, sl*t mentions, did i say yoongi on the phone?, alcohol, house party, so many interactions, just… yoongi🥺 note: ah.. well. it’s finally here. thank you endlessly to @sugakookitty​​ for being the angel beta you are, and thank you all for being so patient and understanding as i worked on this while still recovering from the writing process of dalo! i know it’s been a minute, so. i worked like hell on this the past week. if you haven’t read any of the three tangerines series yet, i highly recommend reading those first! it will make so much more sense lol note 2: saving the rest of my thoughts for the end bc i have many! just enjoy :D  total word count: 16k+ release date: july 23rd, 2022, 2:17pm est 

-

-

Back to normal.

With the coming of one, singular sunrise, everything has gone back to normal. 

Curling your fingers into worn sheets, you stare unblinking at the space once occupied. At the way the material has bunched in frozen peaks and valleys, previously crinkled by passion and loudly unspoken feelings. 

Whatever transpired just hours ago will be imprinted on your soul forever. You may even wear it on your sleeve, if only to remind yourself that something shifted between the hours of suspense and shelter. 

Because Yoongi didn’t just let you into his place last night. 

He let you into his heart. 

Through his actions, his decisions, his words. All of them served as a door, his eyes the windows that couldn’t lie about what they contained. 

You don’t know much still. And you will come to deny a lot more. But one thing is for sure: since you stepped foot inside, you aren’t sure if you’re ready to leave just yet. 

Or ever. 

Fucking hell, your chest feels so hollow it’s a wonder you’re still functioning—

“Yoongi? What are you doing here?” 

Your eyes snap to your open doorway.

“Sup.”

What.

What.

Catapulting yourself out of bed, you’re already warring with yourself on whether to go out there or not. Because what the fuck is happening? 

Why is Yoongi still here?

You skid to a halt at your entryway, as if the edge of a cliff is millimeters from your toes.

It may as well be. You seem to be in freefall already.

Bits of conversation can be heard from where you stand, and you strain your ears to pick up every single word you can grab from down the hall.

“—happening?” 

“Relax. Something went down last night.” 

“What the fuck. Here?” 

“Dalo.” 

“The fuck happened? Why didn’t anyone—” 

“Jimin took care of it.” 

Your brows could kiss from being so close. 

What the hell is going on?

One, why is Yoongi talking so calmly? Two and three and four, why isn’t your brother as loud as you thought he’d be? 

“He was there, too?” 

“Yeah. But she’s okay. I’ll head out now.” 

Fuck fuck fuck your heart is already suffering from how you woke up. Because you never got a chance to say goodbye.

And now it’s gonna happen a second time? 

Do you step out? Do you stay there? Can you handle either one of those options?

Your feet are already moving on their own accord, oversized shirt slightly catching in the wind you make in your approach.

Wait, when did you even put clothes on? You don’t remember a single thing after…

Stop. You can’t worry about that now. Right at this moment, you just need to see him. 

Because you don’t know when you’ll get another chance.

Their voices are a lot clearer the closer you get to the main hallway.

“K. You good?” 

“What? Yeah.” 

“Okay. Thanks for looking out, dude. Fuck.” 

“No sweat. Apparently she didn’t even need us. Almost fought him herself.” 

You freeze midstep as your brother huffs a small sound. 

“That right?” 

“Yeah, Chim was saying something like that.” 

“Good to know. She could whoop my ass if she wanted to, honestly.” 

Yoongi’s hum of amusement is nothing but agreeable. “She should.” 

“Bitch. Outta my house.” 

They both laugh and start saying goodbye, which pulls your feet into the hall completely. Standing. Staring. Probably an absolute wreck but you don’t care. 

Yoongi’s shoulder taps your brother’s before he spots you, and you can tell that he didn’t expect you to be awake. 

All the oxygen is yanked from your lungs as his eyes still on your awaiting form, but you can’t do anything because you get another look and greeting,

“Morning!”

“Morning,” you croak, voice chipped and hollow. 

Eyes sliding back to Yoongi, you wanna say a lot more than that. But words are all competing against each other and clogging up your throat—because you can’t.

How do you thank someone for being so perfect? How do you show what you want to say without confessing something no one else present should hear? 

An entire glossary of terms jams inside your teeth, black letters staining your tongue. In the end, you settle with, 

“Thank you.” 

“Anytime.” 

Damn it, damn it, damn it.

Your airway seizes. Ducts burn.

Don’t react. You cannot. No matter how hard your heart is clenching right now, you cannot make this seem like anything more than gratitude.

Despite it being so, enormously more than that. 

You nod, which Yoongi takes as a cue to regard your brother. “See ya.” 

“We’ll catch up later.” 

Your overnight guardian agrees with a nod of his own, and you wonder if he thought about looking at you one more time before departing, or didn’t think about it at all. 

When the door shuts, it’s like a switch that triggers you to spin around and head back to your—

“Hey, come here.”

Goddamn it. 

“Hold on,” you rush out as you back around a corner, palms rubbing your eyes before steeling your lack of any resolve. After seconds, you make your way back to the front.

Only to get crushed in a hug, arms encasing and smushing you into a fresh tee.

Because of what happened, because your heart is in halves, or because of your brother being the stupid, soft idiot he is sometimes, you don’t push him away. Maybe it’s all three and something extra. But you exhale deep, feet still, trying incredibly hard to not to show anymore tears.

“Sorry I wasn’t there.”

Brows pinched, you shift your head. “You would’ve gotten arrested.”

“Did you have a good time before that?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good, at least.” 

Though the moment is needed, something feels odd. 

Normally, this would be the part where he goes back to his normal, judgmental, assumptive self. Something about “you were still there” or “you still could’ve avoided it somehow.” 

But he doesn’t say anything like that this time. 

What’s up with him? 

Breathing in, you smell his familiar cologne before asking, “Isn’t this the part where you yell at me.”

“Oh, I’m fucking pissed,” he admits before loosening his hold. “But nah, not at you.” 

“Good. Because I’ll just yell at you, too,” you sigh. After he scoffs, you extricate yourself and add, “If I wasn’t so tired.” 

“You okay, though?” 

“Yeah.” You step away and he lets you, and you use that opening to head into the kitchen. 

Do you feel like cooking? No. But it’ll be a good distraction. From how you feel, from last night, and from this already strange morning.

“You sure?”

Opening the fridge, you take some things out while repeating, “Yeah. Yoongi and Jimin were there.” 

“I heard.”

You set down all your items, moving to fetch a pan as your brother leans against a counter with his arms crossed. Interest somewhat piqued, you wonder why he’s burning holes into the perfectly fine tile. 

Why is he acting like this? Why hasn’t he even asked about Yoongi? 

“What were you wearing?”

“Excuse me?” 

There he is.

“Was it what you wore—”

“You know damn well what I wore doesn’t matter, so quit asking,” you bite, slamming the pan down a lot harder than you intended. Or just as hard.

Infuriating. Even though your brother is overprotective as fuck, he should know better than that. Wasn’t he just asking if you had fun? What did any of this have to do with your outfit?

“Shit, sorry,” he backtracks, face scrunched and a palm digging divots into his forehead. “I just—I’m jet lagged and pissed but you’re right.” 

After chucking some food scraps in the pan, the sizzles that spring forth serve as the only sounds in the kitchen. Hints of hot butter bloom around your cheeks, and you contain your need to aim daggers your brother’s way, knowing that his fuse should run out in due time. 

Both of your attitudes should change as soon as the meal is ready anyway.

Finally sparing him a glance, you notice that he’s still angry with the floor, cheek prodded in deep thought and brows set in a peculiar line.

Hmm. He could just be pissed this happened while he was out of town. 

But something still seems really weird. Odd. Like you have all the right pieces but they’re for a completely different puzzle.

Turning the burner low, you take a nearby electric kettle from its stand. “What’s up with you?”

Your sibling’s eyes follow as you fill the glass container. “Nothing,” he mutters. “Just tired.” 

“How about this,” you offer, back to setting the kettle down and starting it with a click. “I let you eat all the food, and you let me know the truth.”

“About what?”

The conversation you heard between him and Yoongi was way too suspicious. How did he not even flinch at Jimin being involved? Wouldn’t he question it just a tiny bit that both Yoongi and Jimin were with you? At a club, no less? 

Nothing makes sense. 

“About what’s on your mind,” you finally respond, voice heavy with exhaustion. 

It’s a wonder you’re even awake. The lingering effects of last night hang onto you like bricks, both from your body and from your overworked brain. 

Truthfully, you want nothing more but to sleep and forget about everything for the time being. “But if you really don’t wanna tell me, then whatever.” 

Your brother just watches as you divvy the food into two servings instead of one, bringing them to a familiar table backed against familiar windows. When you turn, the slight scrape of a chair follows as he sits at his usual spot, and it’s quiet as you pour some tea.

Just like you have every time he comes back from a trip. 

You don’t know when that started becoming tradition. But it has become instinct at this point. Just one of the few things you do as a family, whether it’s in the early, dewy hours of morning, or when even birds are fast asleep. 

Steam spirals from his cup as you set it down with a heavy clunk. Taking your usual spot adjacent to him, you scoot your chair in. Not particularly doing anything else. 

“Thanks.”

“Mmhmm.”

Neither of you move to eat. 

Work crawls just as slow as your mind does, with the sludge of all your thoughts and worries jamming its various gears. 

What do you do now? How are you supposed to feel after an unforgettable week you can’t get back?

You said yourself that things will go back to normal. But saying something is a hell of a lot easier than actually living it because you feel ridiculously incomplete. One check in the mirror would show that you’re all in one piece, sure. 

But on the inside? 

Your chest is both a lot heavier and a lot lighter than it used to be. Like a significant part of you has been replaced with solid stone.

How that’s possible, you can’t even begin to fathom.

Retreating to the bathrooms, you shut yourself in a stall and fish out your phone, staring at a lockscreen that shows no notifications that have your heartbeat skipping.

Can you even text him?

No, right? Yes? Maybe?

If he’s at work, he’d be way too busy to just text. But if you send something weighty, he may not respond to that, either. If he’s with your brother, that could result in a talk you don’t wanna have yet. 

Ugh.

Why is this even harder now! 

But Yoongi said he’d figure something out. Knowing him—because you’d like to think you do now, to some degree—he wouldn’t just say that for nothing. He wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it. 

Still… The mere notion of texting someone shouldn’t make you go through a mental maze. 

Squeezing your eyes in frustration, you decide to let your fingers write for you. 

Only to find out that they’re just as indecisive.

You [typing]: hi

You: 

You: 

You [typing]: hi old man

You: 

You: 

You [typing]: hey

You: 

You: 

You: 

Hearing someone come in, you click your phone shut, sighing before lugging your heavy heart back to work. 

And it’s the most un-Friday Friday you’ve ever been through.

“Door’s open!”

Upon entering Taehyung’s place, you’re immediately hit with the smell of bread.

Is he making his signature sandwiches? You would’ve asked him to make you one if you hadn't arrived with lunch. 

Have to repay him for his favor, after all.

Why does that feel so long ago?

Setting your bag on his couch, you catch sight of him in the kitchen a half-room over. “Hey, Tae. I’m paying up.”

Immediately, he whips his head around. After eyeing the bag you put on his coffee table, a dramatic groan sails out of his mouth. “Damn it.”

“What?”

He looks at you before observing something you can’t see. But it turns out that your assumptions were correct. “I just wasted a shit ton of jelly.”

A laugh escapes as you start taking out what you brought, paper bag obnoxiously loud. “Just leave it for dessert!” 

“Nope. It’s best fresh.”

You pause. “Then have that instead?”

“But I want your food now.”

Damn it, Taehyung. You massage your forehead out of necessity, knowing you will never fully understand this man’s brain. “Okay,” you relent. “Bring it over, I’ll eat it.”

Both of you settle onto his sofa after he grabs some plates. While searching for a movie, he runs through everything you told him on the way from work,

“So he took you back to his place.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Took you home.”

“Yeah.”

“And stayed.”

“…Yeah.”

“Well…” Your friend leans back, raking dark bangs away from his forehead. After a pause so long that it makes you nervous, he breaks, “Shit.”

“I know,” you sigh, staring at the small, weighty to-go rice in your hand. “He did so much.”

“I mean…” While you’re still stewing in contemplation, he hunches forward to grab a hefty portion of noodles. And when he continues, it’s nothing like you expect,

“Pretty sure that means he’s yours.” 

Fuck.

The box in your hand almost hits the floor. Heart beating in over-over-overdrive, you find it hard to process any coherent thoughts. “Be serious,” you shoot out, fingers tight around the container.

“I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

“The bar was already low, mister fresh jelly.”

Taehyung simply turns to aim a smirk your way. “You’re the one that put it there, Missus Min.”

And he bursts into laughter when you hide your face behind the rice.

“Shut up, please,” you groan, earning even more hearty chuckles from your best friend. 

“No! You’re so gone, look at you!”

Sighing in a mix of embarrassment and pain, you set the box down and start gathering your own food. “It’s not like that, Tae. We’re not together, remember?”

The sound he makes is enough to show how convinced he is. “I’m not even the one in your situation and I’m swooning. How can you not see what’s happening?” 

“It’s not that I can’t.” 

“Then what?”

“It’s that I shouldn’t,” you whisper, moving stuff around your plate. “Even if we were a thing… we’d have to just sneak around. Like damn kids.”

While you’re wallowing in your own thoughts, Taehyung sits in silence, too. The movie he finally settled on rolls the beginning sequence, but neither of your gazes fall anywhere close to the screen.

After awhile, you hear him comment, “Sneaking around… Ah, that’ll break you.”

There’s a weight attached to his words, and your eyes can’t help but follow them to the floor. 

Why does it feel like he’s talking to more than just you? He’s been acting pretty shady the past week. Or is that just you projecting your own sneaky behavior?

Well. Inconspicuous or not, it’s not going great.

Exhaling, you slowly admit, “Jimin already knows.”

Taehyung’s sudden stare makes you wince.

“I don’t know how,” you sigh onto your food. “But that night, Yoongi just said that he knows. I don’t know how the fuck that happened unless he said something, but. I also don’t see why he’d do that.”

“Umm.”

You turn.

“That’s on me.”

“What?” Completely thrown, your jaw unhinges from betrayal. “You told him? You snitched?”

“No! No.” In his haste to placate, Taehyung bites his lip and sighs, hand patting the sofa in defeat. “Not exactly.”

“Then how…”

“He was here. The night Reia called me.” He claws through his hair, a little rougher than last time. As his bangs sway forward in rebellious waves, you wonder if there’s more to the story he tells. “When I had to cover for you.”

“Oh.”

“It was weird. He was actually flipping out when they said you weren’t responding.”

Wait. Jimin? Why the hell would he do that? If anything, you’d think he would just sit around and watch everything unfold with amusement. “What the? Why?”

“I dunno. I was obviously dealing with a lot so I didn’t really process, but. After I hung up, he kept asking me where you were.” He shrugs. “So I told him where you could be.”

“What did he say?”

“Not much, actually. He looked… Fine? Then obviously he connected the dots, so. Pretty sure he suspects at least something now.” He inspects his nails before choosing one to bite, a habit he still hasn’t grown out of. “Sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you quickly assure, wondering what any and all of this could mean. While some things make sense now, there’s even more questions coming to the forefront. “I’m just confused.”

“Same.”

Why did Jimin react like that? Why did he question Tae where you were? It makes practically zero sense, just like his little tease before the intramural game.

Now you really need to know what the fuck happened there. If you get the opportunity to find out, you’re not letting it escape. 

But first…

You flash a smug look at your best friend.

“So… Jimin, huh?”

And he stops biting to aim big eyes your way. Then forward. 

“It’s complicated.”

You:

You:

You [typing]: thank you

You:

You:

You:

You:

“Oh, my god, hi!” 

“Hey, Yuri,” you sigh into your phone. As you drop your bag onto your bedroom floor, you apologize, “Sorry I didn’t answer earlier.” 

Her voice is enough to penetrate through your other ear, so you set the device on speaker before tossing it on your comforter. 

“No worries! Just wanted to check on you.” 

Comfy clothes. You need to be in comfortable clothes as quick as possible. As much as you love Taehyung, his insistence that you come straight from work meant prolonging your discomfort. 

You shuck your work garments off while halfway responding, “I’m fine.” 

“Okay… You don’t really sound like it, though.” 

“Yeah, I know,” you sigh again, pulling a tee over your head. 

You still haven’t gotten anything from Yoongi. There’s barely any fight in your bones right now. “But it’s whatever.” 

“I’m sorry. Did something happen last night? Do you wanna talk about it?”

Classic Yuri with the onslaught of questions. Always wanting to kn—

Wait. 

What did she ask?

Jimin didn’t tell them?

Huh.

You just figured he said what went down before rallying them to leave Dalo. The fact that he didn’t say anything strikes you as a little out of character. 

Well. Now paired with what Tae mentioned… Maybe something should make sense here.

“Babe? I’m so sorry if I’m being annoying.” 

“Oh, fuck, my bad,” you rush out. “You aren’t. I just thought you all knew.” 

“Well, maybe they know. I was just way too drunk.” 

“Ah, yeah.” A chuckle leaves your mouth. “Damn, you were gone gone.” 

She elongates her agreement before adding a bit of explanation,

“It’s all Rohan’s fault.” 

Exaggerating a sigh, you shake your head as you flop onto your bed. “Do I need to draw swords?”

Her laugh always reminds you of bubbles. Pretty bubbles that fill grassy backyards and playgrounds with pops of delicate rainbows.

“No, I’m kidding. He actually… Umm. He asked me out.”

“What!” Air rushes around you as you shoot up on your elbow, moving to change the call into a videocall instead. 

Another laugh erupts before the call is switched, and you stare right into Yuri’s frustratingly perfect skin as she’s walking down a hallway. “Bitch!” you yell. “When!” 

“Wait, hold on.” Her smile is all you see until she enters a room, and the movements make it through your phone before she answers, “Earlier today!” 

“How?” You’re so delighted that your smile is genuine, ears perked and ready to hear every little thing about how this all happened. “What did you say?” 

“I didn’t think you’d be this invested,” she giggles before sitting on her bed. Propping her phone on what you think is a pillow—or one of her many plushies—she fixes her hair while continuing, “You usually just tolerate stuff like this.” 

“I mean,” you stutter, realizing that she’s right. You never truly bought into all the mushy stuff since your experience with relationships isn’t exactly sunshine. Rainbows? Yeah. But not much sunshine. 

Not until recently, at least. “True, but. I really am happy for you.” 

“Thank you,” she squeals, expression a mix of gratitude and delight. You can tell she wanted to talk about it but held back, which makes her storytelling even more special. “It just— I was so surprised! He took me to this super fancy place, right? And then he even bought me a ring—”

“A ring? When’s the wedding?”

“Okay, I flipped out at it, too, but! He said he just really wanted to get it for me.” 

“Damn.” Your curve is warm. “That’s fucking cute.” 

“I hate him actually,” she whispers, to which you chuckle at while feeling like your chest has suddenly caved in. “Maybe your little mystery man will do something, too!” 

And an overwhelming feeling of sadness swallows you whole. 

“Maybe,” you murmur, heart slowly bleeding out of the cracks Tae warned you about. “Maybe.” 

“Oh, I’m also inviting everyone over tomorrow. Can you come?” 

“Yeah, that sounds—” You stop when you hear the front opening, and your brother’s voice is distinguishable even through your bedroom door. 

Looking at the time to see how many hours you have left to wallow in suffering, you sulk after you count. Desperate and slightly melancholy, you ask, “Actually, can I just come over now?” 

“And spend the night? Duh!” Yuri gets up and goes out of frame, but you can still hear her. “Mom’ll be happy to see you again. And she’s been making mandu all day, so. Hope you’re hungry.”

You could cry.

Dumplings?

Comfort food is exactly what you need right now.

“Starving,” you manage through a half-smile. “I can leave whenever.”

“Then hurry up!” She finally reappears in the frame with more casual clothes, and you wonder if you caught her just as she was coming home from her date. “We aren’t done talking about mystery man. I have so many questions.”

You fake a groan, brain churning with mixed emotions. 

Of course you wanna scream about him from multiple rooftops. But you also just yearn to talk about him openly at all, and the fact that you can’t has you shutting yourself in a proverbial basement. 

“Okay, okay,” you acquiesce anyway—as usual. “Be there soon.” 

After you both end the call, it doesn’t take you too long to pack. You don’t necessarily need to change, either, so you’re vacating your room in no time. 

Voices spill into the hallway as you make your way to the door.

“Going to—”

Stopping in your strides, your bag swings into your thigh while you count four pairs of eyes. Two of them you recognize as people in your brother’s friend circle, and one of them…

Mystery man himself.

“Oh. Hi, guys.” 

They all greet you in varying volumes, with Yoongi simply throwing a look over his shoulder from his seat on the couch. 

How the fuck does he look better each time you see him?

Turning to your brother—definitely not to stare too hard at someone else in the room—you announce, “I’m staying at Yuri’s.”

“K. You eat yet?”

Your hand connects with the doorknob but your shoulders spring up in excitement. “No, but her mom’s making mandu,” you giddily respond, stretching out the ending syllable in singsong. 

One of the guys shouts from his chair, “Hey, bring some back!”

“No!” You laugh as your brother does, because he already knows what you’re gonna say. “I never share dumplings.”

“It’s true.”

“Dumplings sound good as fuck.”

“Why do you think I want some?”

“Okay, I’m really leaving now,” you huff through a smile before sparing one last glance at Yoongi.

And the slight, upward lift of his mouth makes your pulse jump. 

Good sign. That’s a good sign, right?

You really hope they don’t notice how incredibly shy you become. “Have fun.”

“See ya!”

“Bye!”

“Later!”

With their goodbyes on your ankles, you head out the door, exhaling like you just ran a marathon.

The night at Yuri’s is refreshing, with her mom doting on you and having you eat until you can’t move from the dining table. After a comforting, talkative meal, you’re able to speak somewhat freely about things in the plush castle that Yuri calls her bed. 

You tell her what happened at Dalo, to which she hugs you tight enough to squeeze out some tears. And you tell her about your so-called mystery man, if only to bring her out of the sad funk your scare put her in. 

And with each wholesome scenario, you see her perk back up to normal. There’s still some lingering pity and understanding in her eyes—understandable and relatable—so you decide to tell her more than you initially intended.

Remembering everything the two of you did together, though, it’s no wonder you feel a vast emptiness in your chest. Whatever happened during this week will be remembered for years and, even if that is all you get with Yoongi, it can be enough. More than enough.

Or can it?

An outright squeal causes you to retreat into your shell. “You’re so in love!”

“Shh!” 

“What! You totally are.”

Covering your entire face with one of Yuri’s plushies, your muffled reminder is the same you gave Taehyung, “We aren’t even a thing.”

“Yeah, right. You’re practically married.”

The stuffed hamster quickly ends up in her face. 

Giggling, she clutches it in her arms while being downright ridiculous. “I bet you even picture yourself having his kids.”

What? 

Your mind fizzes, bubbling with a million scenarios you hadn’t even thought of yet and all of them are giving you grief.

Could you really? Something like that? Why is the answer already solidifying in your mind? 

You’re so caught up in Yuri’s earlier statement that the next one almost goes unheard. 

“Mystery guy would do anything for you. And I don’t blame him at all.” She runs a couple fingers through her hair, eyes viewing stars beyond her canopy. “He probably would’ve lost his shit if he saw—”

Her pause ends when she turns your way. “Oh, crap. Sorry if—”

“It’s okay,” you whisper. “You’re probably right.”

“Sorry. I’m still upset just thinking about it. I would’ve lost my shit, too.” 

“Jimin was there. As far as mystery man, I dunno.” You readjust yourself on your side to face her, but your eyes stay glued to her sheets. “All my exes moved on pretty damn quick, so. Who’s to say he won’t.”

“Probably him.”

It’s so spot on that your breath catches in your throat. 

How are things so obvious to her? Are they this obvious to everyone else and you’re simply the only one blocking yourself from what’s really going on?

This is some mental punishment for consistently being told or shown you’re not worth someone’s time, isn’t it? Isn’t it?

Why the fuck do all your exes get this much power over you?

Voice tiny, you finally whisper, “If you say so.” You go to grab another plushie, hugging it and finding comfort in its fluff. “I’m just still unsure about the whole thing.”

“I was, too. But… Rohan saying something first made me realize that I could’ve done the same. And we probably would’ve been happier a lot sooner.” 

“Why didn’t you before again? He’s older or something?”

Yuri sighs before brushing nonexistent hair on her plush. “Mm, that was part of it. Really, I was just worried people wouldn’t, umm. Accept him? I guess?” 

As she laughs to herself, she doesn’t see the look on your face. “But honestly… Who really cares, anyway? He’s a good guy. And why should I care, you know?”

If only you were as strong. You feel like you’re witnessing a champion, cheering Yuri on from the sidelines as she overcomes all obstacles to break the final ribbon. 

Because she’s gone through shit similar to yours. So to see her conquer her past makes your future just a bit brighter. “I’m happy for y’all.”

“Thanks!” She grins, adorably puffing her cheeks on her beloved hamster. “I’m rooting for you both, too.”

Swallowing, you only nod, not a single word daring to run out of your mouth. 

Can you also do it, though? Make it to your own finish line? 

Maybe. 

But you don’t even know if you have one yet. 

You:

You [typing]: i

You:

You:

You:

You [typing]: sgskgskdl 

You:

You:

You:

The neighborhoods in your town haven’t changed much. 

Aside from the trees being taller, almost everything else is the same. Cracks still residing in the same sidewalks; kids still riding the same bikes; one random elderly on their front porch still eyeing everything with suspicion.

Even the people seem to have stayed. You still recognize a good amount of them as you and your friends currently traverse down one of the worn, sunny sidewalks. 

While Reia and Yuri laugh about something together up ahead, you and Dom lag behind to people watch.  

“Mm, there goes Missus Gata again.” 

“Is it really still Missus?”

“It is. But are you surprised?”

“No.” 

Both of you politely raise your arms in greeting, watching as the older lady moves on to water another rosebush. 

From your friend’s hard angles and posture, you can tell that she isn’t done with you after your alarming confession to her and Reia. After they arrived at Yuri’s, it wasn’t long before you were told to let them know what happened, since apparently they weren’t briefed on it, either. 

But you don’t expect her to talk about it so soon—and in broad daylight.

“So that really happened? At Dalo?”

“Yeah.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I am not.”

Though her mouth forms shapes, she doesn’t offer anything else, shaking her head and biting her lip instead.  

You use the heated pause to point out, “I’m just shocked Jimin didn’t say anything.”

“Honestly? I’m a little glad he didn’t. Because I would’ve hunted that motherfucker down.”

“Hey!” 

The two of you look ahead to see Yuri wave before pointing, and you follow her hand to one of the small playgrounds dotting the area. 

It seems even that area hasn’t changed. You still see the familiar swing set, jungle gym, and seesaw taking residence there. 

Since it’s currently vacant, all four of you walk up to different structures, with Reia and Yuri taking the swings and you and Dom the central climbing gym.

Heart heavy, you wonder if you can say what’s been plaguing your mind since yesterday. The others are far enough away to not hear what you’re about to disclose, right? And Dom would know to keep it down.

But is outside really the right place for something like this?

You make a decision as your friend steps onto the first couple platforms. Feet planted, you squint up and admit,

“That wasn’t everything that happened.” 

Immediately, Dominique turns to face you, brows scrunched in waiting.

Huffing, you grab onto a pole to lift yourself onto the steps. The metal is warm instead of scorching hot, and you briefly wonder if the paint is new. 

Focusing, you continue as you follow Dom up to the top level of the gym, “He took me back to his place. Made sure I was good.”

“Mm. How’d that go.”

Over the creaks of swings and loud laughter, you give your friend a rundown of how the night went. How Yoongi never left your side until you said it was okay; how he told you it wasn’t your fault; how he drove you home and surprisingly stayed the whole night. 

You leave out the more intimate parts, but Dom is still rooted in her opinion.

“What did I tell you? It’s far from over.”

Looking down at the rest of the playground, you lean on a bright railing and sigh, “He hasn’t said anything since he left.”

“Have you?”

You wince. “…No.”

A snort pings off your shoulder, and you watch as Dom joins you, looking at the others with sun-narrowed eyes. “Well. I’m no expert on his type, but. I don’t think he’s gonna say anything until you do.”

Your lips purse as you agree in silence. That’s what you’ve been thinking was the case, which makes your indecisiveness even harder to deal with.

And yet, you still haven’t gotten rid of the little devil wedged deep inside your ear. “But what if he’s just… I dunno, moved on already?”

“Oh, come on. Really?”

“Fuck, okay. Fine,” you easily bow out, knowing your doubts are getting less and less traction. Things are finally starting to sink in, especially after Dalo—and your conversations from yesterday. 

Pushing off the metal, you grip it until heat permeates your palms. “But it’s complicated. Like, I know there’s something there. But I also don’t get it, you know?”

“Oh, you get it. You just don’t want to. Cus you’re scared of what it really is.”

“Maybe,” you muse, leaning forward again as a merciful cloud blocks the Sun. “But. It’s not like anything can happen anyway.”

“Why not? Look at me and tell me why you both can’t just date already.” 

You freeze, the words said aloud enough to ignite your entire body. A brief skip or two punctures your chest, and you feel every limb liquifying into mush all at once. 

Finish line. Is that your finish line?

But no one else is in your situation. So no one else would understand why your course is a bit more complicated than others.

Turning, you nudge your chin into the crook of your elbow. “Because… Well, what if it doesn’t work out? What if there’s a fallout and my brother gets involved?” Sorrow overpowers hope on your tongue as you avert your gaze. “I don’t want them to suffer because of me.”

“What if it does work out? What if everything is completely fine?”

You flash your eyes back upward.

Dom sighs before she crosses her forearms. “Listen. I’m gonna need you to fight that stubborn ass head of yours and think about this for a second. Yeah, it could be messy. But is that enough to stop you from trying?”

Well. Your head is undoubtedly stubborn. 

But it’s even more difficult when it goes by precedence. 

“All my exes have been messy. I don’t want to do that to him, too. What if it’s me?” 

Your deprecation is knocked off the climbing gym by a scoff. “What? Girl. What are you even saying? That dude blew off the entire neighborhood. For you.”

“Dom, please,” you beg as she straightens. “I don’t—”

“Do you miss him?”

“What?”

“Don’t what me. Do you miss him.”

Your eyes once again find the playground floor, drifting over to the untouched seesaw.

If only your mind was that still. 

Sighing, you answer, “Yeah.”

“Exactly. And it’s been, what, two days?” You hear nails tap the railing in fed up metallic pings. “How would it feel if it was a month? Fuck it, a year? What then?”

“I’d…” You let your answer fade, not knowing how it was going to end anyway.

Because before, you were completely okay not hearing about Yoongi for months at a time. Seeing him once while back home was just a passing event—albeit a handsome one—so the time between didn’t really affect you. 

But now?

Thinking about that same scenario feels like how agony must taste. No matter how many times you swallow, you can’t seem to get the suffering out of your mouth. 

So you readily admit, “It would hurt so fucking much.”

“Exactly. And I bet you everything that he would feel the same.”

Dom leaves your high perch after that, and you lift your head before clanging after her to another section of the structure. “He hasn’t even said anything, though.”

“Neither have you! Both of you haven’t.” When she comes to the edge of a sturdy bridge, she looks over her shoulder to add, “At least he has an excuse.”

While you join her on the blocks, you ask what she means.

“He probably doesn’t want your brother catching on or something.” Finding a spot to settle in the very middle, the two of you lean on the rails to watch cars drive past a ways away. “I hate this whole let-them-talk-first shit he’s pulling, but. It kinda makes sense this time.”

Not encased by towers, it’s easier for your voices to get lost in the open summer air. Your mind seems to clear a bit, too, if only to be a little more accepting. 

Because Dominique’s argument has made the most sense thus far. “What do I even say?”

“I dunno. Hi? I miss you? I love you and I’m an idiot?”

And the amount of sense plummets to zero. “Dom!”

“What? I’m right!”

Tripped up by a new phrase that has your heart gasping, you think the bridge is swaying a lot more than it truly is. Swaying, rocking, twisting, looping. You may as well be on a rollercoaster with the array of emotions you feel spiraling across your veins. 

Nope. There’s no way. 

You brace yourself and think about more concrete things. Concepts that you can grasp in the present. 

And suddenly, texting Yoongi doesn’t sound difficult after all. 

“I could just say hi and see what happens.”

Your logical friend turns to look at you before providing more advice, “Don’t overthink this. Just initiate. Every other time, he better commit.” 

A smile finally graces your face as you softly nudge her with an elbow. “Look at you,” you joke. “You warming up to him?”

“I never said that.”

Her laugh joins yours after a second, and the calm silence that follows reminds you of every summer you’ve ever lived.  

When the curve of your grin starts to fade, Dom’s voice floats on the breeze once again. “Look. All I’m saying is… He makes you happier than I’ve ever seen you. And I think that’s cus he makes you happy with yourself.”

Well. 

Fuck. 

Your mouth sets into a bittersweet line, feelings threatening the corners of your eyes. As an impossible memory of another playground comes to mind, you sigh, “He does, Dom.”

She slings an arm around you, tone even more airy and fleeting. “What can I say? I’m always right.”

“Almost always,” you correct, happy to defend Yoongi just as your friend did minutes prior. “Since he isn’t the same as you thought.”

“Y’all! Let’s get ice cream!”

Both you and Dom peer down from your perch before she yells, “Don’t have to tell me twice!”

Voice soft, she whispers to your unsuspecting friends below.

“With you? Yeah.”

You look her way.

“So what does that tell you?”

You [typing]: hey

You: 

You:

You [typing]: how’ve you been?

You: 

You:

You:

You:

You:

You:

You [7:17pm]: hi

After a fun but tiring weekend, you make the trip back home to your brother settling onto the couch. 

Shucking your bag off, you take out a plastic baggie filled with frozen dumplings that you got sent home with. Because no matter how profusely you refused, your stubbornness is no match for a mom’s insistence.

Your sibling throws a look over the sofa. “Damn, how many are in there?”

“I dunno but they’re all for me!”

He laughs before turning back to face the TV, head shaking at your unwavering selfishness. “Well, save those for later. I got food.”

“Yeah, yeah, I was gonna.”

In minutes, your prized possessions fill the freezer and your stuff occupies your room. 

A movie you vaguely remember from childhood is on, but your attention isn’t too focused on it as you grab a plate. Instead, you find yourself staring at your lock screen, conveniently hidden from sight by your thigh. 

No messages.

This really is so much harder. 

“How’ve you been?”

“Ehh, good,” you respond at your untouched meal. “I have an interview soon.” 

He munches while staying fixated on the television. “Oh, yeah? Where at?”

“Downtown.” 

“Damn, nice.” Scarfing down another bite, he continues, “I was wondering if you were gonna go for another gig.” 

“Yeah,” you sigh, pushing your food in various directions. Even though it smells delicious and inviting, anxiety about the upcoming interview sinks its talons in your brain. It being a Sunday certainly doesn’t help, either. “I’m just ready for a change. At least you’re smart and found a sick job right out of school.” 

You wish you could be like your brother: successful, uncompromising, also seemingly lucky. To see him finding success at every turn makes you feel unaccomplished, despite having a good amount of achievements yourself. 

He just seems more driven than you. While it’s admirable, it’s also slightly demotivating. Because you feel like you won’t ever reach that same potential. Like an ink stamp of his persona—never fully transferred. 

“I mean, that’s a way to sum it up, but.” He sets his food on his lap, suddenly quiet. “Not really how I saw it.” 

You watch as he adjusts the watch on his wrist, admiring its craftsmanship with a determined stare. “I knew I had to support us somehow. Couldn’t settle for just anything.” 

“I know.”

There he goes again, shouldering everything himself. No matter how much he’s done or how hard he’s worked, he never holds his efforts over your head. 

Truly, the only glaring fault he has is his protectiveness, which even then is hard to argue with considering the circumstances. 

He just needs to know he shouldn’t worry so much.

“And honestly, the pay raise was the only reason I took that promotion. The travel is nice, but…” 

“Oh, don’t worry about me.” You set your plate down on the coffee table, fully deciding to not eat just yet. “I’m an adult, you know. Survived being away for school, right?” 

“Yeah. But… I just. I feel sick thinking about what happened.” 

“Well. So do I.” You rest your elbows on your knees, eyes burning into the ground. “But I’m here. Yoongi and Jimin… Even if they weren’t there, I would’ve found a way out.”

“What happened anyway?”

“Umm.” You swallow. One would think a story like this should be easy to tell on the third go. But not for you. “All I remember is Jimin getting me after I shook the guy off. Then Yoongi… He brought me home.” 

Trying not to show emotion at a time where your heart isn’t quite operating should be an Olympic sport. You can feel its heavy thumps with every syllable as you finally continue, “And stayed until you got here. Apparently.” 

For a moment, only the movie fills the living room with sound. Both of you sit in weighty silence as ponderous as your thoughts. Thinking, wondering, contemplating.

It’s him that breaks first. “I owe them.” 

“Same.” 

“They could've told me, though.” 

You disagree, looking at the floor and checking your phone in the process. “And had you flipping shit, boarding the next flight for nothing? We were fine.” 

“But what if you weren’t? You know I’d do that shit for real if I had to.” 

“I know.” 

“I got you.” 

When you look up, you find your brother glaring straight through the screen. He’s clearly still bothered. But shouldn’t he just be happy that you’re okay? 

You still don’t know why he hasn’t said a single thing about Yoongi being here. 

Maybe… Just maybe—

You finally remember something. Something that had you raising your brows for a short period of time. Wondering what that could be about, you bring it up, “You said to call Yoongi, too. If I needed anything.” 

That seems to snap him out of whatever headspace he was in. Turning to you, he asks, “I said that?” 

“Yeah. Before you left.” 

“Huh.” You watch as he looks down with furrowed brows. “Yeah, well. He’s my brother, so. Makes sense.” 

Of course. They’re thick as thieves, him and Yoongi. He’s called him his brother multiple times before. 

But it pricks the side of your heart just a bit this time. 

“Speaking of that fucker, I feel like he’s seeing someone.”

You freeze, never having sweat accumulate so fast in your goddamn life. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’s weird. He’s been quieter than usual. Just sucked into his phone.”

…His phone? 

“Oh,” you croak before clearing your throat.

What the hell do you say? How would you respond to this conversation normally, let alone having an inside scoop? It’s borderline awkward.

“I mean, he could be busy with work?”

“True. But I usually know if he’s serious with anyone. And he kept dipping out early this whole weekend.” He starts gathering his trash from the table before pausing. “Wait, you know where he works?”

Coughing again, you pivot, ignoring his weird look. “I meant, in general. I assume he’s a contributing member of society.”

Your brother just furrows his brows once before continuing his cleaning. “Yeah, he’s working on big shit, that’s for sure.” As he passes to throw his garbage away, you pick your phone up to flip it over. “Speaking of, I’m hosting another party here on Friday.” 

Confused, your stare pins onto his back. “Seriously? Didn’t you just have people over last Friday?”

“It’s summer? And I have things called friends?”

“Can’t Jimin host?”

“Nah, his parents are back until next month,” he explains before chucking everything in your kitchen bin. 

“Oh.”

“But, what I was gonna say was,” he smiles, walking back to the coffee table to grab his phone. “You’ll wanna be here for this one.” 

“…Why?”

Wiggling his device at you, he vaguely responds with a mysterious, “You’ll see.”

You sigh, hoping it’s not just another excuse for you to stay home and cook. That’s what usually happens during big house parties at your place. 

Well, the few times that weren’t outside cookouts. With a quick thought, you remember that it was usually Yoongi that grilled during those. “Okay… Can my friends come, too?”

“Yeah! I don’t care. A lot of people’ll be here.”

“K.”

“Eat.”

You end up not doing that, instead getting up to go to your room. There’s simply too much on your mind, from your interview to a certain person that you can’t shake off. 

Hearing your brother talking about work didn’t help, either. You wanna be able to help financially, even if he never expressly asks. If you manage to snag this interview, it’s possible that you can start contributing. 

“Hey, listen.”

You turn. “Huh?”

Filling the middle of the hall, he seems to be in the same deep pit of thoughts as before. “There’s something you should know.”

“About what?”

“About th—”

A knock on the front door causes you both to flinch. Eyeing your sibling, you watch as he goes to open it after offering, “I’ll tell you later.”

You furrow your brows but wait to see who knocked, tensing when you hear who your brother welcomes in.

“Hey.”

“Sup.”

What the hell.

This is the second time Yoongi’s appeared at your house—two more times than the amount of chances you’ve spoken to each other since Friday morning.

But you can’t act weird around him. Last time was almost bad enough. So while the door closes, you only ask them out of curiosity and nothing else, “What are y’all about to do?”

As Yoongi looks right at you, your sibling replies—way too nonchalantly, “Got people coming over soon.”

“Tonight, too?” Why! Since when was your house the hottest one on the block? Did they always go this hard while you were away?

You check your phone while commenting the obvious, “It’s Sunday!”

Undeterred, the boys move into the living room, and you trail after them as your brother asks, “And? It’s not like you have school tomorrow or some shit.”

“I work? And so do you?” 

“Relax. It’ll be chill this time.”

You have no damn clue what chill means to him, but if people are already coming then you can’t exactly argue anymore. 

Plus. Yoongi’s here now—which, quite frankly, is already making you feel better. 

It’s magical, really. How he’s able to make you feel more at home in your own house. 

Eyes rolled, you find compromise, “Fine. At least lemme make something so I can eat in my room in peace.” 

“Uh uh, you just made a plate!” 

“I don’t want that.”

“Wow.”

You dismiss him with a flick of your wrist. “I’ll put it in the fridge, don’t worry.” 

“Whatever. Hurry up and cook then. They’ll mooch.”

“Of course they will,” you scoff, already walking into the kitchen. “Crackheads.” 

You finally hear a small huff of amusement, and your mood perks from that one, comforting sound alone. 

God, you miss hearing that as often as possible. Which was strangely a lot, considering it’s Yoongi. 

How long has it been? A mere two days? 

According to your heart, it’s been weeks. 

Maybe that’s why you aren’t afraid to address the both of them when you ask over running water, “Actually, can I get a little help?”

Yoongi lifts his head to regard you immediately, while your brother cranes his neck from beside him. “Really?”

“Uhh, yes? Y’all would get some, too.” Catching sight of Yoongi’s expression, you think you see something in his eyes. Something unexplainable, but yet so, strangely familiar. 

It’s almost enough to send your words tripping over one another as you dry your hands. “I just, umm. I don’t want anyone else eating my food so I wanna hurry.” 

“Our food,” your sibling corrects as he watches his friend walk up before he does. “Yoong, you can chill.” 

“It’s cool.” 

“He’s a better cook than you,” you chide from the fridge, giddy that Yoongi’s taking your offer but wait oh fuck did you really just say that out loud goddamn it—

“Hey, that’s not fair! That’s only cus he hogs grilling duty every time.” 

“Could’ve always helped, you know.” 

“Nuance.” 

Good. So either your brother didn’t catch that or just figured you knew from those cookouts and parties. Totally not from cooking alongside his best friend for the better part of a week. Cool. 

Clearing your perfectly fine throat, you set some foodstuffs on the island with dull thumps, letting both of them know what you want done with each part of the meal. 

“Damn! You aren’t feeding the whole party?”

“Nope.” You hope Yoongi realizes what you’re about to make, and you smile at the same ingredients you used to cook what he brought to the studio. “Just us.” 

When you spare him a quick glance, there’s something in his expression. It’s small. It’s subtle. But it’s there. 

And it’s enough to know that he might be missing you, too.

“Are y’all done cutting?”

“Yeah, almost.”

“K. Ready when you are.”

While they’re both busy by the sink and talking about various things, you’ve been nursing the pots and pans on the stove.

In typical you fashion, you did end up caving, deciding to make a lot so that more people could eat. Cooking and serving usually go hand in hand, and you do enjoy seeing when someone likes what you made. 

Plus, you need an excuse to see Yoongi’s reaction this time, since you were robbed when he ate at the studio. You aren’t asking for much, right? All you have to do is stick around for a bit so you can get some closure.

A vibration could be heard from the island, and all three of you turn from your makeshift stations. 

It’s your brother’s phone. “Ah, shit. Lemme take this.”

You watch as he wipes his hands before swiping his device, squashing it to his ear with a shoulder. As he passes you, he just tilts his head,

“You can put mine in.”

“You could’ve just—” 

“Hey! Y’all coming tonight?”

Your scoff follows him around the corner. 

Why do you even ask him for help? He always does this! 

Whatever. 

You move to grab his stuff only to see Yoongi a few steps away with it already.

“Where do you want these.”

Oh.

All you have to do is answer him. Truthfully, you could just point and that would be enough. 

But you can’t. You can barely take another breath with him looking at you, dressed in a set that has you weak with bangs lingering dangerously over his eyes. 

He’s right there. 

And you feel like he couldn’t be further away. 

Swallowing your misery, you finally move and gesture to a pot. “This one.”

Without pause, Yoongi walks up next to you, sliding everything in and putting the cutting board down with a clunk. 

Spices fill your nose as sizzling tickles your ears, but all of your focus is on wondering what he’s gonna do next. 

Is he gonna walk away now? Keep acting distant? Tell you to stop blatantly staring when your brother could walk back in at any—

“Sesame.”

A blink. “Huh?”

He turns to look at you before shifting his eyes to a slim bottle on the counter. “There’s sesame oil this time.”

Ah. 

You didn’t put that in last time because he didn’t have any.

How the hell did he remember? Even you didn’t think about that.

Lip bitten, you face your pan, shyness now accompanying your sadness.

Of course he would remember. Of course he would point that out. It’s so inherently him that your heart almost slips into the pan in front of you. 

If only it were just the two of you still. You wouldn’t have to be on edge or worry about where you stand with him. 

Though Tae’s label and Dom’s question still ring in your ears, those are going to stay nothing more than a dream. A wonderful scenario you can keep imagining at night, or during a confession scene, or simply while driving to a job you aren’t happy with. 

“Yeah,” you whisper, hearing your brother’s voice move further across the house. “There is.”

“Fuck it, come here.”

You don’t even get to question what’s happening before your chin gets tugged and your lips seized, breath sucked all the way into your lungs while shoulders meet your ears. 

Colors burst as Yoongi lets you go as quickly as he claimed you, and your vision spins as he darts his eyes between yours. 

“You staying?”

Stars. Stars. Your eyes are stars. “Huh?”

“When they get here.”

“Why?”

Unwavering, he admits as plain as day, 

“I wanna see you.”

He what? 

Stunned, you start to say his name before you feel him squeeze your ass, tugging you flush against him and causing your stomach to backflip off a top rope because what the fuck?

“Also.” A bit of teeth shows behind his curve as his greeting glides out in a low, smug as fuck,

“Hi.”

…What the hell! What is he doing!

His laugh while you panic shove him off is aimed at the stove instead, and you’re left to gawk at his side profile for what feels like hours. And hours.

Yoongi did not just do that in your own house. No way. Absolutely no way.

As he spares you a quick glance again, his eyes roam across your face before he quietly hisses in mirth, grabbing a spatula and stirring what he dropped in the pan seconds—hours?—earlier.

Your breath finally returns when you hear your brother’s voice enter the hallway again. “Yoongi…”

“Hmm?” When he sees you watching him, his expression drops in a way that has you melting. “Shit, too much?”

“No, no. I just—” As much as you would replay that tiny moment over and over again, it only reminded your heart of better things. Of easier times. And it’s banging against your chest like an animal to the point where it physically hurts. It hurts it hurts it hurts.

Fuck it.

Launching forward, you tug him back in for another kiss—rushed, desperate, simply not enough. Your nails dig into the soft material of his shirt, as if the animal inside of you is claiming prey after absolute starvation. 

His lips are just as—

Footsteps and goodbyes sound off around the corner. 

Retreating with all the willpower you have left, everything you’ve wanted to say over the past fifty or so hours comes out in three loaded syllables,

“I miss you.”

And you have to move away as your sibling enters the kitchen, eyes welling impossibly fast and lungs on fire. 

“My bad! Got carried away.”

“Who was that?”

“Rohan.”

“He’s not coming.”

“Nah, he said he was.”

“Uh huh.”

While they converse, cold fridge air snaps you back into normalcy, and you pretend to rummage around for nothing before shutting it with a small thump. “Took you long enough,” you snip as you go to grab Yoongi’s cutting board, since he took your brother’s instead. “We’re almost done!”

“Ah, damn. I thought you’d be finished already.”

“Lazy!”

“Hey, I helped!”

“Useless.”

“What!”

A small snort leaves your nose as you bring Yoongi’s cuts to the stove, mind a little clearer despite his surprise attack. 

Because even though your heart wants plenty more than whatever the hell just happened, your worries have retreated for now. 

He kissed you. 

He wants to see you.

Dom, as always, has been right this entire time.

You feel like you could fly with how light your shoulders feel. Even the food smells better and looks more appetizing. 

Eyeing your brother across the kitchen, you ask with newfound glee, “Would you rather be lazy or useless?”

“Doesn’t matter if he’s both.”

“Bitch! Move over, I’m doing the rest.”

As your brother shoves into his friend’s side, he meets resistance as the latter pushes right back with a strained laugh. 

Immediately, you back up as they struggle over the utensil, laughing in earnest and then some.

“Gimme the spoon!”

“No! You’re gonna fuck it up!”

“I’ll make it better if you just—”

“Hell no! Fuck off!”

Fools. Both of them are complete fools! Your cheeks legitimately hurt from seeing them wrestle over a goddamn spatula, so much so that it’s hard to form words. 

It’s only when your brother knocks the pot a little too hard that you intervene with a string of sounds, “Stop, stop! You’re gonna knock it over!”

Both of them cease while you walk up to Yoongi’s other side. “How about you both fuck off and I finish by myself, yeah?”

Before either of them responds, the doorbell does, and your brother leaves immediately. “Coming!”

Which leaves you alone with Yoongi for mere seconds.

And he uses them to his complete advantage.

“Show me that sometime.”

Something is placed in your hand before you fully register what he means, and your jaw drops before he walks away with a goddamn smirk.

Motherfucker, he didn’t have to wink, too!

Breathing in, you curse him out before looking at the spatula you now possess, curling your fingers around the warm handle. 

He wants to see you?

Texts be damned.

Greetings flow out of the entrance as a group of people arrive, and you smile while busying yourself at the stove. When you hear your name being called, you turn to say your hellos and let them all know food’s almost ready. 

One of the guys almost steps foot into the kitchen to see what you’re making, but both Yoongi and your brother halt and spin him with light touches.

Sparing a glance at your sibling calling him impatient, you wonder if he knew Yoongi did the same thing. 

But more and more people start coming in, and soon music fills the house to compete with pops of conversations. 

Wasn’t tonight supposed to be relaxed? You don’t even think there’s enough food for everyone. While your brother starts pulling alcohol from the counter, you question with heavy judgment, 

“This is a chill night?”

He looks out into the living room with a tsk. “Meant for it to be. Guess people just tagged along.” Grabbing a bag of solos from a cabinet, he apologizes, “Sorry.” 

“Kick’em out early, please.” 

“Yeah, I can.” 

Everything you prepared smells divine. You even hear someone comment on the smell from a room over while you’re finishing up. After getting out disposable plates—because you can cook for people but you are not cleaning up after them—you announce that the food is ready.

“Thanks!”

“I’m starving.”

“You better not hog everything again.”

“It was one time.” 

Standing at the bar, you watch as all your brother’s friends congregate in the kitchen, observing everyone’s conversations and keeping to yourself as much as possible. 

Some of them you recognize from his team, and some of them you’ve known for quite awhile. It’s a lively bunch, and you admire your sibling for keeping up so many friendships all these years. 

“Y’all better thank her. She made all this shit.”

Oh, god. So many eyes on you. 

After the cacophony of gratitude and comments on the food, you smile without teeth. “Just leave a little for me. I’m still hungry.” 

“K!” 

You don’t trust hungry crowds, but at least you still have your brother’s leftovers in the fridge. 

The doorbell rings again and, since you’re the closest, you vacate the bar and head to the front. 

To your surprise, it’s Jimin waiting on the welcome mat—the man you need to thank for Dalo.

“Hey,” you greet instead, letting him in. “Anyone else with you?”

“Hello, love.” His smile is always so charming, and it currently contrasts with the all black fit and cap he’s sporting. “Just me.” 

“There’s food in the kitchen,” you offer as the door closes with a thump. “If you’re hungry.” 

Thank him, too. Just say thank you for what he didn’t need to do but did anyway. 

“I just ate, thank you—hey!” 

And your chance evaporates.

You watch as he starts his routine, saying hi until he’s gotten to everybody. The habits of a true host, you figure. He could run for council one day with those mannerisms, especially with a force like Taehyung by his side.

You really hope whatever they got going on works out. 

Well. Maybe you can catch Jimin some other time tonight. There’s no point in doing it now.

When you get back to your spot at the bar, you see that another plate has materialized next to yours. 

Did anyone take your seat? Is this someone’s food?

Glancing around, there isn’t anyone else other than someone getting their own portions. All the other people are scattered about the house or backyard. 

Huh.

Despite feeling like a fly on a wall, sticking around is somewhat enjoyable. Not having to socialize too much takes some pressure off your shoulders, and sparing glances at Yoongi wearing one of his beloved tracksuits is always a plus. 

Your brother said he’s been sucked into his phone often, but you haven’t noticed that tonight. He’s mostly been talking and listening to people, even smiling and joking a bit, too. 

“Wait, didn’t one of y’all tag that abandoned pool before?”

“No?”

“Yes, you did! Wait, no. It was Yoongi!”

“That wasn’t me.”

“Oh. I swore it was. It was sick, too.”

“Okay, maybe it was me.”

Laughter erupts as he grins into his cup. 

“You and Jimin, man. Troublemakers.”

The latter lazily points in defense. “Doesn’t count if you don’t get caught.”

“That’s even worse.”

“You guys were terrible.”

“Hey,” Yoongi pipes up, room hinging on his set brows and waiting on his argument. But, after a pause, all that comes out is confident agreement, “We still are.”

And more laughs pierce the surrounding furniture.

Even from your position a ways away, you hunch forward in your amusement. But there’s another reason for your grin.

He’s so handsome when he’s happy.

Has he always been like this around his friends? You know Yoongi’s not the extroverted type, but to see him so comfortable around people makes you feel at ease. 

Except when his eyes shift to you.

Because it feels like you’re the only person he’s acknowledging in those moments, which throws all thoughts and feelings into a stew that rivals what you made tonight. 

All the times before, you’ve turned or scurried away. 

But now, you decide to exude pure joy from your lonely spot on a wall, and you see a brilliant spark take root in his eyes. 

A half hour later, you still wanna thank Jimin for what he did, and you finally get your chance when he enters the kitchen to refill a cup. 

Coming up next to him, you grab a little liquor of your own before you blurt over the music,

“Thank you.”

Jimin looks your way, eyes watching over the lid of his solo. 

“For Dalo.”

Straightening, he shrugs. “No need.”

“But I’ve been wanting to.”

“Not surprising,” he says through a smile. “You and your brother. So stubborn. You can text me, you know.” 

Laughing, you take a sip and let the subtle burn slide down your throat. “I think he’d interrogate you if you were texting me.” 

“I can take him.” 

Jimin will forever be Jimin. It’s admirable, really. If he was the one you were seeing, who knows how many texts would have been sent since Friday. 

But he’s not. 

The one you’ve been seeing is a room over, someone you haven’t been able to approach since he stole oxygen from your lungs. 

You thought watching Yoongi having fun would be enough. But with each passing minute, you found yourself increasingly incorrect. Yearning took over like a weed, quickly overrunning your chest and making it hard for you to accept being a mere wallflower.  

Just like the sear of alcohol, something else settles into your stomach. And it’s not pleasant, or wanted.

Even if you dated Yoongi, how the hell could you navigate that? There’s no way things can just change and suddenly you’re sitting right beside him at parties. Or anywhere. At least, not without his friends giving you strange looks or past hookups chucking malice your way. 

Some of them can even be here right now. Which you would rather not think about, so your next sip is bigger than the last.

Because all you’ve been is a younger sister. Not really part of their group or age or whatever else that separates your world from theirs. 

People say to look at the bigger picture.

But you don’t particularly like the way yours is turning out. 

Fuck, your heartbeat is super, super loud right now.

“You okay?”

“Huh?” 

Instantly, sounds and voices reach normal clarity. The heavy thumps you hear aren’t your pulse, but bass from the music instead. When you blink, Jimin is already regarding you with curiosity, a hand on your arm in concern. 

Shit. How long were you just standing there? “Oh. Just thinking.”

“About Dalo?” He slides his palm off, leaving a million questions in its wake. “It’s okay, really.”

“No, not that,” you sigh, nostrils singed from your drink. Staring out the kitchen windows, you respond as airily as the smoke that drifts over your back porch. “Not that at all.” 

“Basketball? Ah, yeah.” 

Huh?

You whip your stare to his, which causes his jaw to shut in an instant. 

Because either he really just wanted to bring that up again, or he misheard you terribly over the music. 

Miraculously, your opportunity presented itself. So you are not letting it slip by this time. “What about it.”  

“Nothing.”

Fuck that. Frowning, you don’t back down. “What do you mean, Jimin. You said you would tell me.”

“I figured you would’ve known by now.” 

“No one’s told me shit.” 

Unblinking, you watch as he licks his lips in thought. You hear a few feet on the kitchen tile, but nothing can stop you from getting this information now. Not stares, nor whispers, or even your brother. 

And he seems to pick up on your determination. He’s the one that called you stubborn, after all. Eyes shadowed by the rim of his hat, he sighs in defeat, “I’ll tell you, but. I feel like either of them should instead.” 

You find that your fingers actually grip the side of his shirt. “Please,” you whisper. “Now I’m starting to get worried.” 

Because what in the hell could be so significant about that day? It’s better if your brother or Yoongi tell you instead? What the hell does that mean?

After several grueling seconds, Jimin waits until the last people leave the kitchen. You observe the way his eyes covertly scan, and you peer over your own shoulder to gauge the room. 

Finally, his voice drifts through the empty air when he surrenders, “Okay. After you left… Something went down.” 

Your hand drops from his side. “What?” 

“Uhh.” He steps back and fixes his cap, eyes storming with conflict. “Fuck, I really shouldn’t be the one telling you.” 

“Tell me anyway.” 

Because now? Now you need to know. Your heart is pounding and you’re pretty sure the next song is good but you can’t exactly hear it. All you’re focused on is what he is going to tell you. Because he gave you a bite and now you’ll fight for the entire course.

But no further coercion is needed. Jimin continues, seemingly unable to look your way. “Some dude made some threats.” 

“Threats? To who?” 

He glances at you before sighing. And you have to answer yourself.

“Oh. Me? What the fuck?” 

“I told you—” 

“Jimin… Why the fuck didn’t anyone tell me?” 

“I can’t speak for them, but. They probably just didn’t want you to worry.” 

“Were they really that bad?”

He prods a cheek before divulging the last, most crucial part. “He threatened to find this house, so. Yeah.” 

Well. That’s definitely a lot worse than you thought. You can take empty threats; everyone goes through shit like that. But for someone to threaten to find an address? Were they really… That…

Serious?

Hold on.

Hold on hold on hold on.

Your words feel like suspense itself on your tongue. 

“Wait, so… That whole time…” 

Jimin just stares—stares, and stares, and stares—while everything hits you like a train. 

The whole week.

That entire time.

Yoongi was keeping you safe. 

The key. The goading you into coming over. The way he kept looking over his shoulder while you walked at night. Telling you that Jimin knows.

This also explains why Jimin freaked out at Taehyung’s place. When he overheard that you weren’t responding. 

A chill pops in your chest like dry ice, freezing everything over in seconds. 

You heard Yoongi saying something went down when your brother came home. Voice shaking, you ask Jimin even though your heart knows the answer, 

“Was… Was the guy at Dalo…?” 

He sets his cup down before gripping the counter in both palms, and he doesn’t need to say anything else. 

“Almost lost our goddamn minds.” 

You start feeling your fingers tremble before a hand clamps over your mouth. 

Fuck. 

Oh fuck, oh fuck. 

No wonder the fucker looked familiar; no wonder it felt so off; no wonder Jimin’s heart was racing as much as yours was.

Everything in your brain is spinning, thoughts leaping from one end to the next and bumping and screeching and popping and—

You need something. You don’t know what. Yoongi. Your room. To be alone. His place. Nowhere. Is it stuffy in here? You need space. Space. 

Space.

“Thank you,” you rush out. “For telling me.” 

And you quickly excuse yourself, almost missing the pair of eyes watching your hasty exit to your bedroom.

Everything’s completely blurry when your door shuts behind you. Cursing, you run your hand across your nose before a storm of thoughts jolts your body. 

It’s too much. 

The feelings swirling in your chest have no place to go but out of your ducts, pinging onto your floor and into your clothes.

Are you overthinking this? No. You think and think and think but by god you are pretty damn sure about this one.

Why would he do that? No one has ever gone these lengths for you. At least, no one other than your brother, who’s had it ingrained in his blood since forever. 

But Yoongi didn’t have to go this far. Neither did Jimin, for that matter. They both could’ve just passed it off as a bluff, or forgotten about it as soon as the next day rolled around. 

Fucking hell, how they must’ve felt at Dalo.

There’s an unspeakable pang in your chest just thinki—

Your phone’s vibrations scare the shit out of you, and you check to see who texted before another hot batch of tears roll down your face.

Yoongi [10:04pm]: What’s wrong, doll

Goddamn it.

What do you even—why did he—how are you supposed to answer? All you want to do is wrap yourself in his embrace and never leave. You wanna walk past everyone in your house and stand in front of him, if only to tell him a thousand and one thank-you’s by catapulting yourself into his arms.

But you can’t do any of that. And it sucks. 

You [10:06pm]: he told me

You [10:06pm]: about basketball

You stumble to your bathroom, bracing yourself on your counter before removing all the gunk from today in a wash. 

It’s not like you’re going back out there. Not after looking like a legitimate trainwreck. 

After you’re done, you see that he texted back, throat constricting at his continued concern. Always his concern. Always his effort. 

Holy fuck, his effort.

Yoongi [10:09pm]: Talk to me

You [10:17pm]: i really fucking want to

You [10:17pm]: but i can’t

Yoongi [10:18pm]: Gimme ten

What? He’s not gonna leave and call you, is he? It’s late but it’s not super late. If he dips out now, wouldn’t that be too early?

Well, your brother did say he was leaving early all weekend. Probably to work on something.

But regardless. You can’t position yourself as someone that makes him leave just out of selfishness. He can still have fun while he’s here. You can wait. 

After what you heard, you can wait as long as he needs. 

You [10:20pm]: what no. you don’t have to leave 

Yoongi [10:20pm]: I know  

A sniffle.

What the hell did you do to deserve any of this?

As you settle into the cold of your sheets, you let out a few more tears.

Because now, more than ever, you wanna run right for that godforsaken finish line.

Though it’s been more than ten minutes, you don’t mind. If anything, Yoongi’s given you time to process everything, tears hardening on your cheeks and soaking into your pillowcase. 

Even before he gave you that key, he was protecting you in his own ways. For fuck’s sake, he even came over the day your brother flew out, probably just to check on you. So many things. So many nights. 

Recalling how you joked about walking home, now you feel downright awful if you scared him somewhat. 

When he finally calls, your throat tightens, but you answer the phone regardless.

“Hey, doll.” 

His voice is a salve for your wounds. “Yoongi… Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

You hear a long sigh, the low hum of his car filling the space right after.

“Fucking Park.”

“I made him tell me,” you defend. “Since no one else ever said anything.” Waiting, you trace your fingers along one of the divots in your sheets. And you’re unsurprised when you realize it’s in the spot he took residence before.

“I’d rather you worry about normal shit.”

You freeze.

“You don’t ever need to worry about that.”

The entirety of every language you know escapes you. For his explanation renders you speechless. 

Jimin was correct in his assumption. But it doesn’t take away from how you feel. How grateful, how terrible, how indescribable you feel. 

That’s a long time to shoulder something and not say a word about it. And from his reaction, you don’t think he planned on saying anything at all. “But that whole time… You…”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

He’s downplaying. Why is he downplaying? From the way Jimin spoke, those threats weren’t light. And Yoongi cannot tell you it was nothing considering how he acted after Dalo.

Fuck. 

After Dalo.

How he was the whole night after suddenly cakes your throat to the brim.

Because it was already enough to make you rethink some things. But now? After knowing the whole truth?

Fucking hell, Min Yoongi.

A wave of emotion cradles you into its swell, and you feel something warm spread throughout every fibre of your being. It’s comforting, it’s peaceful, it’s healing. 

Suddenly, even the normal shit doesn’t seem worrisome at all.

Breath shuddering, your chest aches so much that you almost consider sneaking out of your window to follow him back home. “He told me,” you whisper into the line, tears threatening to splash onto your screen. “The guy at Dalo.”

A curse shoots out before you’re back to hearing the ambiance of the drive. 

Yoongi really didn’t want you to know that part, it seems. 

And truthfully, you get it. You don’t think you would’ve told anyone something like that, either. 

“Jimin knew not to let me get you. You haven’t noticed, but. I still have a big ass bruise from him shoving me into the bar.” 

“Yoongi.” You have to know. It’s not enough to know what happened. Now you need to know something deeper. And it’s not even out of worry; it’s out of pure curiosity. “Why?”

“Because we were asked to.”

…Huh?

You didn’t know that was the case. Your brother was the one that asked them? There couldn’t be anyone else that Yoongi was referring to.

How did that guy get out alive if he threatened you in front of your brother? What all actually happened?

“And I was gonna anyways.”

Breathing in, you still can’t believe it. You can’t believe anything that’s been said or revealed to you in the last hour or so. 

Fuck, even your brother having people over makes sense. He wants to be home instead of leaving you in the house.

They all did so much. So much more than you even realized. “You even stayed... That night.” 

“I wasn’t gonna leave you alone.” 

Oh, it hurts. Your chest hurts like it’s never, ever hurt before. It’s hard to even form the right sentences, when all you can think about is him. “Yoongi… Thank you.” 

“It’s all good. When’s your interview?” 

Disbelief shoots from your mouth. 

That’s what he decides to talk about now? After this massive revelation that he didn’t speak a word of for a week? 

Who knows. This could just be a normal, everyday happening that Yoongi is used to. It may not mean much at all in his grand scheme of things. 

But to you? To you, this means more than everything.

So much is choked up in your throat that it leaks out of your eyes. When you finally respond, you hope that he can’t tell you’re crying.

“It’s… It’s on Tuesday. After work.” You can’t help but let a sound slip. How the fuck can Yoongi be so normal about all of this? You feel like you can barely function. “Still nervous as fuck.” 

You know he knows you’re crying. But he doesn’t comment on it at all. The only thing that comes out of his mouth is assurance. 

“You’ll be fine.” 

“How do you know?” 

“Just cus.” 

Unbelievable. And yet completely him. Your palm comes up to wipe gratitude and a myriad of other emotions from your eyes. 

This entire time.

You don’t think you’ll ever stop thinking about this. 

And you have a pretty fucking good excuse to not overthink about him anymore.

“That’s a really lame answer.” 

“Did it work?” 

“A little.” 

“Good.” 

A tiny hum escapes through your clogged throat. If only he wasn’t driving further and further away. Wasn’t he the one that made you comfortable here?

You think you understand how. Maybe a part of your heart left with him after he stayed the night. And maybe, just maybe, the rest of it is packing up and fighting to escape your rib cage.

“You should go, doll.” 

“No.”

His slight laugh is comfort in a sound.

“At least go back out for a sec. Get some water or something.”

“Okay…” 

Despite agreeing, you find that you’re far from being done. How could you be? You wanna stay as long as he lets you. Brain whirring, you grab hold of anything you can use as an excuse to keep him on the line. 

And you end up settling for something safe. “Wait, where’s my copy of your album?” 

He responds with amusement again, but immediately takes the bait. 

“I don’t even have the masters yet.” 

“Liar. You must have at least one.”

There’s a brief pause before he admits, 

“Okay, maybe I have one.” 

“I knew it!” 

“You caught that way too quick.” 

“Yeah, you better watch out.” 

“Agreed.” 

“You know.. This whole time,” you start, rueful puffs of air fanning onto your receiver, “I’ve been wondering if I could talk to you again.” 

“I thought you just forgot about me.” 

“Huh?” 

Quite possibly the most untrue statement in history.

“You never texted, so. I never knew when it was a good time.” 

He laughs, seemingly to himself. 

“Then a whole weekend passed.” 

Staring into your ceiling, you frown. “You’re joking.” 

“Dead serious.” 

“Wow.” 

“I almost called you. Like three fucking times.” 

“Really?”

“For nothing, too. You know I had a cat at my door two days in a row?” 

“Nu uh. A stray?”

“Think so. I left some water out but didn’t have any food. Fuck, I need to go to the store.” 

You hear Yoongi get out of his car, and you wish you were there with him walking to his apartment. You’d probably be able to see his newfound pet. “You know you have a cat now, right?” 

“No.” 

“Yeah.” 

“No chance.” 

“It’s there now, huh.” 

The silence on the line is your answer.

“Listen—” 

“See—” 

“It is. But it’s leaving now.” 

“Is it really.” 

You hear a shuffle of sounds, and in your heart of hearts you know he’s bending down to pet the damn thing. 

But his pride makes his answer noncommittal. 

“Mm.” 

“Oh my god, another lie! Such a liar.” 

Mirth fills your speaker, and you can hear his smug ass smile. 

“Nu uh.” 

“I can’t with you. I’m hanging up.” 

You hear the distinct jangle of keys, and that one sound alone breaks your facade.

“I lied. I don’t wanna go.”

His door shuts, and you can imagine him padding through his place after slipping off his shoes. He had really nice ones on today, so they’re probably going into those neat, clear bins he uses for more coveted pairs. 

“Just call me later.”

“When?”

“When he’s passed out.”   

“Okay… Do I have to go now?”

“Mm. I’m almost done with something I wanna show you.” 

“Really?” 

“Uh huh. And you’re distracting me so hang up.” 

“You called me!” 

“So?” 

“Wow. Goodbye, babe.” 

There’s a quiet moment. Then a quiet, rueful huff of breath. 

“Talk later, doll.” 

And the phone is suddenly silent. 

While your head is as loud as can be.

A couple hours pass before you hear your brother finally knocked out. 

After hanging up earlier, you did venture out of your room to get water. Of course, you made yourself presentable and not snot-nosed before leaving. Couldn’t let anyone immediately wonder if you were okay or not. 

Because while you got closure about what happened, it’s still so full of emotion that you think you’ll break if you have to speak about it again. 

Jimin spotted you before you stepped back into your room, but he only offered a smile after your mouth curved upward in perpetual thankfulness.

In that moment, you decided to give your brother some credit, too. 

For everything that he’s done thus far. And for picking an elite group of close friends. 

Inching up against his door, you place your ear on the wood, hearing the rush of air before telltale snoring rumbles through. 

So it isn’t long before you’re back in your room, calling back the man you will never get over as long as you live. 

“I didn’t think you’d do it.”

“Really? Why?”

“Fully expected you to chicken out.”

Huffing in pride, you settle onto your sheets. “I like proving you wrong.”

“I see that.”

“So what were you gonna show me?”

“Huh? Nah, I’m still not done.” 

Giving your phone a weird look, you note, “You said to call back.” 

There’s a mix of scratching sounds on the line, and you wonder if he’s at his desk or in his bed.

“Yeah.”

“So…?”

“Just felt like making you come.”

Fuck!

“Yoo—” You slap a hand over your mouth. “Are you out of your mind?”

The grin in his voice can be heard for miles.

“You don’t wanna?”

Is this man for real? Yes, you’ve spoken on the phone when your brother was here and yes, you want to jump his goddamn bones. But this is definitely crossing into dangerous territory. “I…I do, but—”

“Then do as I say. It won’t take long.”

“Cocky son of a bitch,” you whisper, already frazzled to no end. It seems your lips get a lot looser, more unfiltered the more caught off-guard you are. 

You wonder if Yoongi’s caught onto that. Judging from the chuckles you hear in your speaker, he probably already has. 

“You ever done this before?”

“No.”

“Then trust me.”

Settling far under your covers and placing pillows around, you whisper, “Fine… You better not charge me for this.”

A hum buzzes the line. 

“I’m surprised you’re not asking me to pay up.”

“Oh. Good idea. I will now.”

“Gonna run me dry, huh?”

“Mmhmm. Plus interest.”

“Fuck.”

“What?”

“Just missed you.”

You blink. “Oh.”

“Keep whatever shirt you got on, forget the rest. You’re gonna need it in a sec.”

“Okay,” you breathe out, slowly reaching down to slip off your bottoms. Your heart is already racing, and the warmth under your covers is increasing bit by bit. “They’re off now.”

“Good girl.”

Air leaves your lungs, but it’s what he says next that causes you to outright flinch.

“What did I tell you to show me.”

Shuddering, your hand is already palming your mound, but all you can think about is how much better it would be to have him there. “Yoongi…”

“Careful, doll. Neighbors can’t know my name just yet.”

Lip bitten, you admit, “I just wish you were here.”

“Fuckin’ same. But do what makes you feel good.”

Swallowing nothing, you dip low, feeling your essence coat your fingers even though you haven’t even started yet. 

This man can probably make you come from his voice alone. 

But you don’t need to admit that to him.

“You wet, baby girl?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Good. Keep going for me.”

Swirling your fingers over your clit always works, but the thoughts and images running across your eyes are what really get you bothered. 

The way Yoongi’s fingers feel in your cunt instead; the sounds he isn’t afraid to make in your ear; the roughness he unleashes on you in those moments he lets go. You can practically hear his grunts, feel his thrusts, taste his sweat.

And this is the same man that kept you safe?

It’s all so overwhelming that you don’t even notice how hard you’re breathing.

“Sound so fucking hot.” 

A whimper escapes.

How can he say that when he sounds like sin incarnate?

Everything he’s said to you, whether in his right mind or not, comes washing over you in waves. Your fingers find a rhythm as you run through the whole week, and you throw in a few scenarios that you dare not bring up. 

Well. Maybe you will now. Frankly, you want to be under his mercy more than you ever have before. It’s as if his selflessness unlocked a deep, dark part of you, begging to be addressed. 

The things that are coming to mind. They’re gathering on your tongue, pooling into thick saliva that’s threatening to spill out the side of your mouth. “I miss…” 

“Hmm.” 

Let it all out. 

“I miss being your slut, Yoongi.”

The deep curse on the line sends jolts to your core, and his next words rumble out like thunder. 

“My slut, huh?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Tell me something then.”

Your fingers slow down their pace as your ears perk. “What.”

“No lies.” 

“Okay.”

“What does my needy girl want?”

Fucking hell, he can’t just say stuff like that with no warning! Immediately, you let out a tiny whine as your digits glide against your slick. “Choke me.”

“Knew you’d love that shit. What else.”

Admitting the first was a lot easier than the second. You can’t even bring yourself to utter it in a whisper let alone loud enough for him to hear. Truthfully, just imagining it right now is enough to get you close to the edge. Your voice comes out extremely strained as you whimper, “I can’t say.”

“You can.”

“Nu uh.”

“Then stop.”

Your hand grinds to an agonizing halt. “What?”

“You heard what I said. Until you tell me, you’re done.”

No! No no no you were so fucking close! “Asshole!”

“Me? I’m letting you off easy.”

“Fuck. Okay… I…”

“You..”

He isn’t helping.

Gulping, you feel your cunt pulse around your fingers as you finally shudder out, “My mouth.” 

“Uh huh. What about it.”

“Umm…” Say it. Just say it and get it over with all you need to do is just say it. 

So you do.

“Spit in my mouth.” 

Only to face complete silence on the line. 

Blinking into darkness, you almost take your hand away from your center before you hear his voice grind over boulders,

“Don’t make me climb through your fucking window.” 

A whine slips between your closed lips. If he came into your room now, you wouldn’t have cared if every deity in existence overheard what would happen. The amount of lust and something scarier you’re carrying for this man is at an all-time peak. “Don’t tease me. I want it.”

“I just might, fuck.”

“Yes,” you pant, knowing exactly what he means by his broken speech. “Yes. Oh, fuck, I’m close. Yoongi, please!”

“Shirt, doll.”

“What?”

His voice sounds like he’s barely holding on when he grits out,

“Bite that shit you’re wearing or I’m hanging up.” 

“I—mmph—”

“I’d shut you up with my dick, but. That should do.” 

Fuck! Your squeal is incredibly high as your fingers keep up a stunning pace, the shocks of pleasure tightening your legs. 

You hear a condescending laugh on the line, and you don’t know the logic behind it turning you on so much, but it does. 

“Goddamn. It’s like you want everyone to hear you, baby girl.” 

You shake your head, breaths shallow and fast, knowing damn well he can’t see you. 

“You’re getting off on this, huh.”

“Mm mm!” 

“Uh huh.” 

Another stupid, unnecessary laugh punctures straight into your cunt.

“Getting off on doing something you shouldn’t.”

“Mmm!”

“My girl’s so dirty.”

“Yoough—”

You can’t take it anymore. At a label you didn’t expect to hear, your dam bursts, gushing out onto your fingers and spilling from your core. 

It’s massive. Unrelenting. All of your pent-up feelings come in waves, washing you ashore only to drag you back in. The harsh groan you sink into your shirt makes Yoongi react, and your legs threaten to close before he orders,

“Uh uh, keep going, baby. Since you wanna slut it out so bad.”

“Fughk!”

“God, you probably look so fucked out right now. Miss that shit.”

You rip the soaking shirt from your mouth, already close while you keep your fingers wedged inside. Your body thrums with each hard pulse, and imagining him fucking you deep is enough to set you off. “Yoongi. Baby. I’m close again.”

“Then shut the fuck up and come.”

You moan his name into the thick material of your top, hoping to every higher power that it’s muffled enough. 

Your walls pulse wildly around your fingers, and you feel so fucking euphoric that your eyes see sounds in the back of your head. 

But your back snaps into place again as you settle back onto your mattress, muscles aching and filled with a lingering soreness. The only thing you can do is breathe heavily into the receiver, hoping Yoongi’s just as satisfied as you are.

“Feel better?”

“Much better,” you rasp out as the wet material slides down your neck. “You?”

“I’ve been waiting for this since you kissed me. So yeah.” 

Ever since then? That was hours ago. 

You need to inhale before offering, “Do you… Do you wanna come, too?”

A chuckle. 

“I got what I wanted, doll. It’s cool.” 

“I take…” You gulp in a breath. “I take cash or card.” 

A loud bit of laughter punctuates your phone, and your grin is lopsided from exhaustion. Sweat coats every single part of your skin, some of it rolling off your legs in spent drops. 

“God…” 

“So pay up.” 

“How about this. Come over when you’re done with that interview.” 

“Mm?”

“Then I will.” 

“Mm.” 

What he offered finally registers in your brain, and it’s like a humongous light switch. Suddenly alert, you clarify, “Wait. You sure?”

“I am.” 

Is he really offering that? You both know your brother is back. And your interview may end during late afternoon. Around the time he gets off. 

Yoongi has to know all of these things. 

But if he’s truly serious, who are you to deny his offering? When you find yourself caring less and less? “K… Guess I’ll go clean up now.”

“Mm. I’m gonna pass out soon anyway.” 

“Wait.”

“Hmm.”

A grin spreads your face so wide that it starts to hurt, and excitement to hear his reaction tingles you before you joke, “Where’s my kiss?” 

He laughs, knowing exactly what you mean. 

And your smile is impossibly wider when he responds,

“Good luck, babe.” 

This whole weekend. 

This entire weekend, you’ve been worried about various things. Bogged down by a past that clings to your feet like quicksand, dragging you away from wonderful, tender things you’ve been told. 

But it seems like you found a step of solid footing. One sure, stable piece of foundation that has probably been there for longer than you’d known. 

Besides. Walking to a finish line is just as significant as running. Because if you get there, you get there, and that’s a win.

“Thank you. Seriously.” You pause, gazing at the empty space that you want occupied for an uncountable amount of nights. “For everything.”

“I meant what I said, doll.” 

Your smile is warm.

“Anytime.” 

-

-

-

tbc. :) 

-

A/N: ahhh. so. how did it go? i just wanna say, to everyone that sent that damn tweet of a guy doing the little things to protect his girl and saying it’s 3tan yoongi... i wanted to scream every time bc of THIS. LOL. but yeah, we finally get to hear about wtf happened during basketball. as for the actual scene..... y’all might get that later, too :’)) i just want this chapter to be out for a little bit beforehand so people can read it first.  A/N 2: as always, thank you so much for all of the support. whether you’re new, or an OG, i truly appreciate you being here and going on this journey with me and the 3tan crew. i’m still just a bit sick and sniffly (totally not bc of yoongi what who does that?) so the writing may not be top tier. but i hope this was still worth the wait!  ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ ⇥ masterlist

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Drabble on Tan's thoughts about giving Mandy a sibling, how he'll bring it up to us and his reaction to us saying yes (just some ideas but ofc you're free to do whatever, do your magic love 💗💗) 💺 anon

hii angel!! love it, and sorry this is so small. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

BABY FEVER.

tangerine x fem!reader

word count. 291

A slow morning in bed with your husband and daughter by your side is always your favourite start to the day. Tangerine is laid on your left, drifting in and out of slumber with Mandy curled into his side - huddled in close, doing the same as her dad.

You've not been awake long, the disturbance from Mandy joining you in bed nearly twenty minutes ago keeping you from dozing off, too. There were things you wanted to do this morning - things you had to get done, but as you watch over your family in your bed, you put those thoughts aside, deciding that those mundane tasks can wait.

You place your phone back onto the nightstand and scooch in to join your family, cuddling behind your toddler to get closer to Tan. He stirs, a low, sleepy groan quietening once he feels Mandy at his side.

"Morning," you whisper warmly, eyes already on him - enamouring his beauty.

"Mornin' darlin'," he whispers back, subtly adjusting his arm under Mandy, wanting to get closer to you. "Don't you just miss when she was a baby," he says mindlessly, looking down at the spitting image of him.

You rake through the soft, messy curls on your lover's head, watching him in awe as he does the same to your child. "You got baby fever, hm?" you smile, bringing your other hand up to part the hair on Mandy, brushing a strand behind her ear.

"Maybe."

Looking up, you find his gaze, eyes already on you. "Really?" smile widening.

He hums lowly, a smile slowly forming.

"Do you think she will take it well?" you ask, voice still quiet as you nod towards your daughter.

"Only if we give her a brother."

when I was looking for images on pinterest I found a toddler that is the SPITTING image of him as a little girl which I now hc as mandy😭😭

[antoinettedoodles]

Hi!!💞💕💞💕 I really love your art😭😭😭

Can I ask you to come up with a baby for them please?🥺👉👈 My Shishio and Epel! Ofc, if it is comfortable for you!!💗💗💗

Take care of your time~ I hope you have a wonderful day🥰🥰🥰

EYYYY HELLO, OYA— Nice to see Shioshio in my ask box 🤭 I was so excited to get into this because I had an amazing idea for ShiPel/EpeHio already- Hope you like it!

Ask Box

Yuusona x Canon Character Child

Meet Kitsu!

Shioshio x Epel Felmier

Personal Thoughts: O r a n g e

If Epel is an Apple, Kitsu is an orange, I dont make the rules and thus, made Kitsu everything orange like Papa Shio! And even chose a Japanese name for him! (Which literally means orange/tangerine), originally, I wanted Clementine but honestly, that can go to another ShiPel sibling (I know damn well Epel is gonna have a big family)

In terms of Dormitory, I cant decide whether I wanted Kitsu in Pomefiore or Heartslabyul but I like seeing him in red, so Heartslabyul it is!

˳೫˚∗ Please give a heart and follow if you like my work!

[ch0wen]

Allies in Arles - Tangerine x Reader | Lemon and Tangerine

A\N: Had a sour taste in my mouth not including Lemon much in my last work. So, here’s a short Lemon and Tangerine fic with some suggestive language at the end!

“I think there's something we've been meaning to discuss," Tangerine began, after granting you all a moment to relax in your seats.

The hope that this was a Tangerine-style proposal dissolved as he uttered the rest of his announcement.

“Feel like we should figure out a code name now. Protect Y/N and us, yaknow?”

“Right," Lemon chirped up, sitting adjacent to his brother. You hum in agreement but roll your eyes. Breaking Tangerine's penetrating stare.

What you thought was your boyfriend taking you on a romantic French getaway turned out to be another international operation for him and his brother.

He just hasn’t had the time lately to spend with you - Which you know has been bothering him. Some of their jobs take weeks to complete, and you are really missing the intimate alone time you once had in the beginning. They had consecutively successful jobs in the last year and now are considered “in-demand” hitmen.

So, you honestly would’ve accepted any offer he made. You would go to any place in the world, as long as it meant you'd get to share a fleeting moment with Tangerine.

He figured this would give him the ability to hit two birds with one stone. Spend time with his partner while being able to make some money with his sibling. Little did you know that he would be mixing the two together frequently on this trip.

The Twins invited you to join them on today's stakeout. Hoping a trio of people relaxing outside a cafe in Arles will not bring any suspicion to their surveillance. Thought it looked better than being a pair of burly, bickering men.

The previous discussion fizzled out. Assumedly they considered their options. Your hand intertwined with Tangerine’s from across the table and Lemon is minding his own. But you notice the pairs’ eyes flick up in the direction of a closed storefront every other minute.

You were playing a little game to see when their motions synched up. They were just too similar. Both of them would glance to the left, pause on the building, then Lemon's eyes would drift over to his brother's face which would be blocking some of his view of the store, and Tangerine would cast his eyes over to lock with Lemon. Never faulting in the look of irritation, but the other knew how to read him. It was an unspoken confirmation that, No. There is nothing different going on over there.

For the rest of the silence, when you yourself weren't analyzing the two, you'd scroll through your phone. Seeing all your friends with their doting partners cuddling up in your hometown, engagements in Greece, or even honeymooning in Italy. Almost taunting you through the timeline.

Again, while you do appreciate what you have, you cannot help those little waves of jealously that wash over you. Wanting just a moment of normalcy in your relationship. Not following along on an overseas trip which will eventually lead to an assassination or two, figuring out which cleaning supplies get rid of blood stains, or questioning where or who he took the most recent beautiful pieces of gifted jewelry from.

As if he can read your mind, or see the slight furrow of your brow, a thumb rubbed over your knuckles. Flicking your eyes up and over to your boyfriend. He had a smile gracing his handsome face. Sending you a feeling of comfort which you didn't know you deeply needed. Reassuring you to stop overthinking and just love the man you know does nothing but try putting you first. Always.

After getting out of your head, you set your device down to sip from your second glass of wine. Tangerine breaks the tranquility wafting through the warm air first, again.

“It’s been an hour. There hasn’t been motion from the store. We should do another lap to make sure there’s nothing questionable happening behind the avenue or around the bend.”

Lemon fiddled with a butter knife. Carving a little cartoonish image into the wooden table. His brother nudged him to get a response out.

“Right,” he doesn’t look up from his sketch, “well, get on it then.”

“Why me?”

“By the time I would get back here you two would be doing fuck all in a desolate passageway.”

Tangerine dropped your hand with a huff before he rose out of his chair, “You’re a right fucking pest.”

Your eyes follow Tangerine as he walked away. He has an incredible gait. Really knows how to carry himself. He looks like a sexy Parisian enjoying an afternoon stroll through this nearly empty avenue, as the glow of the sun brings out the auburn in his curly hair.

“You think of a code name yet?”

You blinked to break your focus and turn to Lemon.

“Do I really need a code name? I tagged along because y’all said we were going to France. I’m here for wine and cheese not blood and chaos.”

“If people hear us calling you by name. We could run the risk of being identified. Ain’t a joke in our line of work, babes.”

“Okay. What might you suggest then?" You hum over your glass.

“Peach.”

There wasn’t a moment of hesitation. You paused while setting your wine down to quirk a brow at Lemon. Holding the drink in your mouth for a beat. Letting it envelop your taste buds with its tart taste before swallowing.

“Peach?”

He shrugs, “Peaches are sweet. And you’re nice.”

“You’re so matter of fact. Feels like you’ve been sitting with that option for a while too. But I feel like peach is just so generic.”

“Our code names are based off of fruit. There are only so many good, roll off the tongue, complimentary options out there, Y/N.”

“Just thought I could spice it up. Maybe lychee or strawberry?”

“Perhaps, durian?”

“Oh what, is the joke because I smell? Fine. I’m fine with a peach.”

You tossed a piece of bread at Lemon in a playful act of defiance. He quickly snatched it out of the air and popped it into his mouth with a bellowing laugh.

Tangerine strolled over while attempting to look nonchalant. Based on the frown on his face, it seems that his surveillance turned up with no results. You can tell he wants this mission to have some sort of progress. All this sitting around is making him restless.

He all but sulks as he sits down next to Lemon at the table. He had his sunglasses on now, but you can feel his eyes on you.

“You alright? Figure a name out yet?”

“Peach,” you sighed.

“Fitting.”

He moved the sunglasses up into his hair. The wisps that broke out of the gel from the humidity, now tucked away from his face again.

“Why’s that?”

“Because you’re sweet,"

You roll your eyes at that. The Twins are for sure alike. Although it’s not that complex of an answer, so maybe it’s not the best reason to be amazed at their likeness.

“and juice always runs down my face when I eat you out.”

A laugh lights up and crinkles all the perfect corners on Tangerine's normally serious face with your flustered look. Lemon’s mouth is agape, as he harshly smacks his brother’s arm,

“Jesus Christ, man. Boundaries! We talked about this! Keep your weird sex life out of our job.”

“Okay. Maybe I’m on board with peach now,” You smile as your sandaled foot rubs over Tangerine’s ankle.

[slut-f0r-u]

Tangerine and Lemon react to their sibling being bullied.

Warning/tags:crying, comfort, people being mean, killing etc

A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long and I know I said I would write a fic on this (and still can if y'all want) but I have been really busy lately working on a sequel to Scared which will be out soon.

Pairings: Lemon x platonic Tangerine, Tangerine x siblingreader, Lemon x sibling!reader

When you arrived home the twins were already there laying on the lounge watching some random cartoons

They heard you walk in and turned around to greet you with happy smiles but they soon dropped when they saw tears running down you cheeks.

They look horrified.

Why on Earth was they're little sibling crying?

But before they could ask you anything you quickly rushed past them.

Tangerine tried to jump up and follow you but Lemon stopped him and said you needed some time, recieving a few displeased grunts from Tangerine.

They could hear your muffled crying and it broke theit hearts. They were going to kill whoever did this.

After about an hout had passed and they could still hear your cries they agreed to go and check on you.

They found you door locked. You NEVER locked your door, this must be really bad.

They knocked on you door and asked to be let in gently, afraid to scare you.

After a while with no response Tangeine grew angrier and started banging on you door loudly threatening to break it down

Once you finally opened the door their hearts completley broke when they saw your face.

They HATED seeing you cry and would anything to stop it.

Lemon quickly pulls you into a hug and you cry into his chest.

He slowly manovures you onto your bed and sits down with you.

Tangerine kneels down in front of you with a very serious look on his face.

"I'm only gonna ask ya this once. Who did it?"

You look up at tangerine and break your hug with lemon. Not long before you launch yourself at tangerine.

They both look on the verge of tears, how could someone hurt you?

Their little, baby sibling.

You look up at him once again and try to explain what happened.

The twins growing angrier at every word.

If Tangerine wasn't furious before, he certainly was now.

But they weren't mad at you they were mad at the people who caused this.

That night you all curled up in bed and watched movies and ate ice cream.

Lets just say the twins "visited" whoever was mean to you.

They made sure the people would never bother you again.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Ooo can I please request a brothers!Tangerine/Lemon x Little sister where it’s like home alone lol? They have to rush to a mission and leave their 8 year old sister Y/n at home (with a babysitter of course), however, the babysitter doesn’t do their job… Leaving Y/n in the mansion by herself. She does what any little kid left alone would do… Watch a lot of TV, okay a lot of video games, eat a lot of candy, jump on the beds, etc, until enemies of the Twins show up and break in and Y/n goes all “Home Alone” on them. The Twins rush back having gotten the alert that someone broke in (they’re rightfully panicked), and walk in guns blazing, only to see a very messing house filled with traps, the bad guys tied up, upside down, hanging off of the upstairs rail… And a very proud little sister happily kicking her feet and waving at them while she’s just innocently watching a kids show

Lol Lemon being like like, “Welp, she is our little sister”

Tangerine face palming but also feeling a sense of pride in his lil sis😂

Also the twins rushing to hug her because they were super worried

oh my god I LOVE THISS 😭

Home alone

“Alright, you got our number, jus’ call if you need anything.” Tangerine had said to the babysitter, she just nodded and continued to scroll on her phone.

“Thank you.” He said, before they both left the house.

“You sure ‘bout her?” Lemon asked.

“She’s the cheapest one I could find.”

“You’re so cheap. Look at where we live.”

“Babysitters a babysitter, mate.” Tangerine rolled his eyes. “She’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He said, and they both got in the car.

The babysitter stayed for a little, before saying she was going to a party, and to tell your brothers that she was still there so she’d get paid.

You looked at her confused but agreed anyways, you were now home alone. You smirked when the door closed, and switched the channel. It was a horror movie, Texas chainsaw massacre.

You smiled as you realized you had hours home alone now. You could do anything.

You quickly raced to the kitchen, and jumped on top of the counter, and opened up a cabinet. A cabinet you weren’t usually allowed to open.

Lemon and Tangerine were auger addicts, and they always had to hide the candy from you (or you’d go crazy and eat it all like you are now)

You smirked and quickly got down a bunch of boxes, grabbing as much as you could and hopping down onto the floor again. You sat snack onto the couch, and ate almost all of it until you couldn’t eat anymore.

You switched the channel to another horror movie, saw this time.

You watched all the traps, and got bored after a while. So you went to one place you weren’t allowed.

The both of their bedrooms.

You made your way to Tangerines first, it was neat, and books were scattered around the room. Some plants and some flowers as well. Pictures of Tangerine, Lemon, and you all around as well. As well as an old painting.

You stood up, and started to jump up and down, laughing loudly as you did so, the bed getting messed up while you did so.

You then fell down, laughing wildly and grinning. That was about the most fun ever.

You cleaned up his room back to normal, then went to Lemons.

You’ve been in Lemons room tons of times, the both of you watching shows and TV.

It was messier, and it was more childish and fun. It had pictures of you, tangerine, and himself all around like Tangerines did. His bedsheets a bright blue. And small train figures scattered on his desk, along with some stickers of different things.

You smiled and did the same, smiling and laughing for a while before you heard a knock at the door. You furrowed your eyebrows and made your way back downstairs.

Your brothers couldn’t be home this early. No way!

“Who is it?” You said, in the best grown up deep voice you could muster.

“Its uh… your grandfather!” He made up a liez

“My grandpas dead.” You said back.

“It’s… your great grandfather.”

That’s a lie. You knew that.

So quickly, you ran down the basement, grabbing anything you could with a small smirk. A rope, some tape, and some other things. Your brothers had showed you what to do in case something like this happened.

You quickly set up the trap, the man outside fidgeting with the door knob. You placed the net hidden, and hid what activated it underneath some tape. It looked like a mess, but it would work hopefully.

The man grew agitated, and blew the door open with his shotgun.

Tangerine looked at his phone when he got the alert someone was at the front door, of course he had only seen the part where the man blew the door off.

He showed Lemon, and they both drove faster, breaking the speed limit a couple times while doing so.

The man was now in a net, it barely was hanging on, he fell down slightly every minute.

His gun had fallen, and you just stared at it, waiting on the stairs.

The twins had come in, both guns out. They looked around and noticed you on the stairs.

“Holy shit. Are you alright?” Tangerine said, going up to you while Lemon stared in amusement at the man captured in the net, hanging on by the stairs.

“I’m fine. He’s not.” You pointed to the man, who just growled.

“Is that who I think it is?” Lemon snickered, and went closer.

“Think it is, Lemon. What do ya say we kill him right now?”

“Nah, I say we torture him.” Lemon sniffled, and the man just thrashed in the net, making it fall from the rope. He fell onto the hard floor with a groan, and looked up to the three of you staring at him.

“Can’t believe you got beat by a child?” Tangerine teased, grabbing him out of the net, and pulling his wrists roughly.

“Now I want you to tell everyone, including the person who hired you, to never come here ever fuckin’ again. Don’t even lay your eyes on her ever again.” Tangerine said.

“Yeah, you’re lucky we don’t shoot ya fuckin’ eyes out right now.”

“Well then who’d give everyone our message?” Tangerine said, and shoved him outside, the man tripping and falling on the driveway while running.

“Nice job, y/n.” Lemon said, turning back to you and giving you a high five, making you beam.

[strawberryys-stuff]

YOUR WARRIOR | part 1

Neteyam x Li'ona!fem!reader

i have been trying to break my writing block for six months and managed to get this piece out of it

contains: brief mentions of scars/wounds, brutal murder of a fish, forced marriage, kind of enemies to lovers

and definitely has grammar errors, sorry for that

It was difficult. He was a na'vi hybrid, an exquisite combination of human and alien species, while you were the daughter of a pure-blood king. The possibility of a lasting relationship was low, nearly non-existent among your tribe, but that thrill ignited a dangerous spark neither of you could quench.

Neteyam was mesmerized by your beauty, by the elegance of your movements, by your firm posture, but mostly by your tangerine-colored eyes. Instead of the common golden gaze, yours had a tint of orange around the pupil. They held so much mystery and passion that Neteyam wanted to grasp and solve like it was some kind of a riddle. They held a bunch of secrets he was willing to discover. Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan fell in love with the Li'ona princess who, unfortunately for him, was betrothed.

You were promised to a determined na'vi, a muscular warrior, whose reputation was apparently unhealthily pure. But tasun was raised alongside your older brother and shared some of his personality traits. He was stubborn, too cocky for his own good and disloyal when it came to relationships. There were seas of rumors about his awful behavior towards his past partners, especially towards your cousin. You strongly disliked that boy but you had to obey your mother.

Maybe that was why you felt connected to the omatikaya hybrid. Neither of you had the freedom you deserved. Both of you were forced to grow up at a very young age, to look after your younger siblings. everybody had high expectations you had to fulfill.

But in reality, you were just hopeless teenagers who wanted, no, needed to experience true love.

You narrowed your tangerine gaze at the swiftly moving target, tightened the grip you had on your whetted spear and pinched your bottom lip with the sharp tips of your fangs, precisely counting every loop the unaware school of fish had been making. After a minute of watching, you aligned your armed hand with the target and inhaled the scent of seaweed as your weapon striked the head of a fish with a splash.

Quickly leaping over the seawall terrace to get ahold of the spear, you battled the smug grin that threatened to spread across your pursed mouth and studied your catch with a burning glimmer in your eyes. When your fingertips were about to touch the handle of the weapon, several weirdly-shaped creatures casted heavy shadows on the unmoving surface of the clear sea and attracted the eyes of other fishermen as well, awaking curiosity and confusion in the Li'ona na'vi.

You collected your spear, along with the multiple breathless fish, and took your feet out of the seawall terrace you decided to clear out today, a woven net overflowing with your catches caressing your exposed lower back. You strapped the netting to your slim figure and created clicking noises with your tongue to call your ilu. The animal greeted you with an enthusiastic squeal and revealed its back to the rider. After you connected your queue to the sea creature, the group of skilled fishermen set off towards the sandy shore where the intruders had landed.

You emerged out of the resting sea with your peers and pushed some wet raven locks out of your eyes that glittered in the afternoon sun rays. You abandoned your ilu along with the woven net near a centralized ilu pen after you offered your recent catch to the bewildered animal and disconnected your queue from it.

"What happened?" your younger sister questioned the sudden cluster of your people after she surfaced beside you, tugging drenched strands of hair behind her pointed ear. You shrugged your shoulders with a shake of your head and approached the herd of Li'ona villagers with the naturally curious girl.

You swiftly dodged any arriving people, keeping your tail close to your calfs in case somebody didn't notice your presence and accidentally stepped on it as they did many times before. Untroubled, your sister walked through the cluster easily, each Li'ona moving out of her way towards the intruders.

You slided aside to avoid approaching muscular bodies and the Olo'eyktan, who was returning with his newly organized hunting party precisely on time. You appeared behind Tasun, your betrothed, and the eldest son of the chief, your brother, with folded arms across your rising chest as Maratu walked out of the herd, spear in hand.

"What is that?" Tasun gestured to the tail of the closest Omatikaya boy, making the victim of his following remarks to glance over his tense shoulder. Your betrothed stifled a chuckle as he pointed to the thin tail that was flicking from side to side. "Is that supposed to be a tail?"

You slapped the nape of his neck in disapproval and released a warning hiss below his ear, forcing it to turn downward as you pushed the two arrogant boys apart. Your brother swatted your hand away from his chest and poked your side in return, chuckling when you took a step forward with a growl.

Neteyam lowered his piercing amber eyes on your small turquoise form and caught your tangerine-colored gaze in the process. The target of the nasty remarks flickered by his side while his withdrawn ears twitched as you displayed your full beauty underneath the bright burning star. A shimmering spark of forbidden interest twinkled in both gazes and sealed the command of the Great Mother herself.

"We seek Uturu," Jake announced and received judgemental glares and exaggerated gasps from each direction. Maratu tilted his head slightly as his wife, Kirnat, emerged out of the humongous crowd with a scowl decorating her facial features. You were pulled backwards by Tasun when the pregnant woman began to circle the foreigners and were detached from the eldest son.

"We are half-reef people," Maratu mentioned the differences as he gestured to the desperate family, weak chuckle stroking his lips. "You are forest people. Your skills will be nothing but a waste, JakeSully."

Kirnat tugged at their thin tails and pointed out that they will not be capable of swimming in the water. She approached the oldest daughter of JakeSully and Neytiri with a huff and seized her wrists to inspect her unusual hands. "These children-" she lifted them up for everyone to see and displayed her five fingers with a silent growl, "-aren't even true Na'vi."

"Yes, we are!" Kiri snatched her hands out of the Tsahìk's grasp and pulled them to her heaving chest, tangling her fingers in the shawl she had on her shoulders. Tuk wrapped her arms around her leg to hide away from the intense stares and snuggled up against her thigh, making you sigh in defeat.

Neteyam tuned out the persuasion when you sneaked past your assigned lover and appeared on his left with flattened ears, his twitching at the sight. He allowed himself to marvel at your softening face that showcased concern and some kind of pity. He absorbed your wrinkled forehead and the unique shape your pigment patterns were creating in the middle of it along with your delicate facial structure.

"Gross," your brother pretended to gag beside his friend and quickly shielded his head when you faced him with a glare and clenched teeth. The boy received a slap on his shoulder from your cousin, Maru, who silenced his laughter with a stern tone.

You bowed to show your gratitude before your youngest brother could tackle your legs. Neteyam narrowed his eyes at the interaction as his father pleaded the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk for a chance, stating that his family can adapt like he did many years ago. You picked up the whining little boy with an eye roll and let him fidget with your handmade necklace.

The eldest son of Toruk Makto noticed the tender caresses you left on your sibling's upper back to soothe his pounding heart and throbbing headache, swallowing the hums that were threatening to escape out of his mouth. He was flabbergasted by the relationship you had with the little boy and wondered if he was your younger brother. The urge to ask for your name was clawing at his dry throat and forced him to clear it as he dedicated his attention to his father and Maratu, missing the opportunity to catch you staring at his differently built body.

"Your arms are thin, your tails are weak," Kirnat wrapped her fingers around the youngest son's forearm to reveal his five-fingered hand and pulled it upwards, a hiss drumming against the walls of her throat. "They have demon blood!" The herd of her people took a couple steps back, mouths agape with disbelief.

Neteyam flinched when the pregnant woman poked his stiff shoulder and pushed some of his tightly braided hair forward to reveal a healed wound to the little boy that had been taking in his appearance in your arms. He pointed to the scar, which made Neteyam shiver. You followed his curious gaze and noticed the wound as well, scolding the boy for pointing at the Omatikaya. Neteyam covered the healed injury with his four-fingered hand and scooted closer to his younger brother, who had been devouring the beauty of the youngest daughter of the chief.

Maratu shared a look with his mate and tilted his head slightly to convince the woman without using his words. Kirnat stole a glance at the fleeing family and closed her eyes, battling her inner voices. Once they fluttered open, she nodded and gave her husband her consent. "Toruk Makto and his family will stay with us," he began to announce and buried the smooth end of his spear into the sandy shore. "They do not know the sea, they will be like babies taking their first breath. Teach them our ways, so they do not suffer the shame of being useless."

JakeSully encouraged the rest of the family to bow and mutter a quick thank you to the Li'ona leaders. Maratu accepted their politeness easily while his wife stifled a snicker and dissolved the cluster with a wave of her hand, motioning you to follow and return to the village with her. "My oldest son Ralu and youngest daughter Aneya, will teach yours the way of water," he clarified despite the protests of his son and silenced him with a glare. "Enough, ma 'itan. It is decided." [son]

By the imperfect posture of your mother you could tell she was against the idea of allowing armed strangers inside your village. you couldn't blame her. After the RDA attacked your former home, you refused to accept anyone who had the guts to travel beyond their territory, but here you were, trusting a title - Toruk Makto. the legend was well-respected in your tribe and beautifully captured in your songcords and celebrations, but would a true Toruk Makto seek Uturu among strangers? Run away from the threat?

Based on the stories your Ancestors provided you with, no. Toruk Makto would never flee, but a father would. JakeSully was also a father who cared deeply about his children and that was something a true warrior, a true legend would do - he would protect his most valuable treasure.

The thought of leaving your home, the people you love, behind just because humans are sickeningly greedy and unappreciative made you physically ill. And in some way, you had to go through that as well. So, after your father returned into your family marui pod and got scolded by his wife, he approached you with pleading eyes.

Your legs were dangling over the edge of the pod, ankles submerged. Various shoals of fish swam around your feet, trying to avoid colliding with them as your father took a seat beside you in silence. Your bioluminescent dots began to glow along with the underwater world you learned to appreciate and take care of.

Maratu exhaled heavily and placed his hand on your hunched back. You immediately straightened your posture but kept your exhausted gaze on the never-ending sea. "I know you aren't happy with my decision," he stated, figuring how you felt from your behavior during dinner. "And trust me when I say, I am not exactly happy either."

Your ears twitched at his confession which made him chuckle. "I know it will be hard to accept their presence and most people will take decades to do so." You turned to face your father, confusion flashing across your tangerine gaze. He grabbed your hand and placed it against his beating heart - an intimate gesture among your people, your father mostly used to show his seriousness and affection.

"What I am about to ask you may be selfish after what we had to go through, but you are the only one capable of doing what is right." His words scratched the back of your mind which awoke unpleasant memories. "I spoke to JakeSully.." you nodded and encouraged him to continue, "his oldest son Neteyam, I believe it was, was trained to be an Olo'eyktan-"

"What are you trying to say, dad?" you interrupted his speech as your fear of interacting with the Omatikaya boy kept growing. Maratu squeezed your hand and pursed his lips, giving away his request. "No," you snickered sarcastically and pulled your hand away from his tattooed chest, shaking your head in disbelief. "No, dad, that is- I am not-"

"I want you to become his personal trainer-" Before you could protest, he put his index finger on your lips. "He has great potential for a warrior and you will help him get there."

"But dad-"

"There isn't room for buts," he interjected harshly as he collected himself and stood up, silencing your upcoming grunts. "I do not want to hear it, daughter. You will help that boy out either way."

"Yes, sir.." you muttered angrily while your father walked back inside where a wave of joyful cheers and laughter of your younger siblings engulfed his tall figure.

You clenched your fists hard it made your knuckles white. You should have known. Your father never came to have a chit-chat with you, he always assigned you new chores, or ordered you to babysit your siblings.

What was so special about that Omatikaya anyway?

Was it his muscular body that seemed to be perfectly built for the sea and rainforest environment? Was it his pretty privilege? Was it his daddy's title? What the hell made him so suitable for the position you have been trying to get ahold of for years?

You had no clue and that made you furious. A frustrated growl crawled out of your throat before you plunged into the calm sea to clear your head. After you managed to swim far away from your marui pod and realized you were running out of air, you resurfaced at the edge of your resting village, fighting the urge to cough.

"Are you alright?"

Your bloodshot eyes scanned the shore for the source of that sickeningly soothing voice, finding nothing but pure darkness. A trail of tiny glowing dots started to move inside the rainforest your village was surrounded by from the other side. A lean, pretty tall figure emerged out of the woods, clutching a bow with a half-full quiver of arrows hanging on their shoulder. As they stepped out of the shadows into the bioluminescence, you noticed the bold dark-blue skin that was decorated with sharp and straight patterns.

You narrowed your eyes in an attempt to focus on their face, praying silently for any Sully besides Neteyam. But as they entered into the moonlight, you swallowed your prayers. Their tightly-braided hair was tied up in a high ponytail, revealing their defined face features. You traced their glowing dots, from left to right, and captured their golden gaze.

"Oh," you breathed out and cleared your throat as the Omatikaya boy approached you. "It is you.."

"You don't sound very pleased," Neteyam pointed out your disappointment and slung his bow over his free shoulder before he placed his hands on his hips. "You must be the other daughter then-"

You scoffed. "The other daughter?" Neteyam watched you walk out of the sleeping sea, seeing how offended you were by his words, and raised his brows in surprise. "You-"

You stomped towards the na'vi hybrid and poked his stiff shoulder, almost pushing his quiver off. "Do not," you warned and exposed your fangs in the process.

"My apologies." Neteyam withdrew his hands and took a step back to show some respect which you snickered at, not fully believing. "I did not mean to be disrespectful," he admitted and bowed to seal the truth.

The silence that fell upon you two was overflowing with tension and one-sided admiration. You were studying his unreadable facial expression while he was devouring your beauty.

His golden eyes traced every single droplet of sea water you had on your turquoise skin. Neteyam also tried to memorize the pattern of your bioluminescent freckles before you managed to turn away.

"Go back," you muttered over your shoulder as you started to walk back into the endless bowl of water, desperately searching for an escape from his curious gaze.

"Wait-" already ankles deep, you turned around with arched brows. Neteyam offered you a sweet smile, "Can you tell me your name?"

"You will know it soon enough, forest boy."

[spookyspecterino]

Hornet and The Wasp

Tangerine x !Younger Sister Reader

Word Count: 5.6K

(Reader's codename is Wasp)

When you shadow Hornet, your big sister, on an 'easy' mission to kill a target and retrieve a silver brief case, neither of you are prepared for how hard it turns out to be.

SFW; Canon typical violence, AU/Canon divergence, blood, language, pining, slight age gap (Reader is 21, Tangerine is 32).

A/N: This was a request that I took and absolutely went off the rails with. I loved writing it so much, it was an absolute blast! I may write more for them in the future, I love a good sibling dynamic and there is so much potential here.

“Are you seriously going to wear that out of the bathroom?”

“Do you have a better idea? I can’t exactly walk into the employee lounge.”

“Isn’t someone going to be suspicious?”

“So? Momomon had to take a little bathroom break. Focus on getting the snake onboard.”

“This is easy, you know I have it covered… You always give me the baby tasks.”

“It’s because you’re a baby.”

“Am not.”

“My baby sister.”

You groaned, letting that serve as a response.

Across the busy train station, you saw your older sister exit the women’s restroom wearing the pink and white mascot costume. She passed several waving children without even turning to look at them.

You chided her over the comms piece in your ear. “Remember to act like a mascot, Hornet.”

 “I will once I get on the train, Wasp.”

Stepping forward, you received your ticket and went along your way through security. Having given a few well-placed bribes the day before, it was a breeze. No one even attempted to check inside your bags or the crate that carried the Boomslang snake. A baby task, just as you had said.

The outside air was crisp and biting as you exited the building and stood patiently waiting on the platform. There were only a few others outside, all had their heads down—hands in pockets; most preferred to wait in the comfort of the station. Trying to smooth your dress down with a hand did nothing to calm your impatience.

You rolled your shoulders, looking for the familiar form of a fluffy mascot, but seeing none. “I’m on the platform, what’s your position?”

“Dealing with some children. Be there shortly.”

“Good to hear you’re getting in some much-needed practice.”

There was a sound of grumbling before Hornet asked, “See anyone interesting waiting for the train?”

“By interesting, do you mean big scary killers or our pathetic little Russian child? Either way—oh!”

Your words were cut off as you were roughly bumped into and jostled forward. A strong hand caught your arm as you were about to stumble and pulled you back.

The man who held your arm in his warm grasp—a very good-looking British gentleman in his early 30’s with a mustache, was offering his apologies.

His eyes scanned your face and his hand lingered before pulling away slowly. “Terribly sorry, love.”

Behind him stood another gentleman, who had a softer face and wore a more casual, but still nice, jacket. He wasn’t looking at you as he hastily pulled a blanket around someone in a wheelchair. Off the back of the chair’s handles hung a silver briefcase.

You tore your eyes away from the mustached man to examine the person slumped over. Instinct told you that this wasn’t normal. Their head hung down toward their lap, no doubt unconscious, and there was a blanket around their shoulders, draped over their face.

The handsome man side-stepped to block your view. You caught sight of gold rings on his fingers. “Just trying to get our friend here ready for the train. Pardon us.”

From behind the wheelchair, the other man gave you a polite smile as he roughly wheeled their ‘friend’ away down the length of the platform.

Hornet’s tense voice came in through the comms. “Who was that? What happened? Wasp?”

Your eyes followed after the man in the suit, lavishly taking in the sight of his strong shoulders. “I think I may have found our targets. There’s good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”

There was a pause. “Bad news.”

“Ok, so bad news is our targets are being escorted by two men, thick British accents—no doubt hired for the job. The good news is one of them is positively gorgeous. I mean just a walking sculpture; you should see his mustache. Like, holy sh—"

“Wasp! Focus!”

Your eyes drifted down the platform toward the two men who were talking amongst themselves as they waited, settling on the one with gold rings. God, his fingers were thick. “Oh, I’m focused alright.”

“Jesus Christ—” There was an aggravated sigh before Hornet started over. “Ok, you said they were British? What does the other one look like?”

“Heavier set, a little taller, rounder face.”

“Shit, it’s The Twins.”

“Well, uh, no—I wouldn’t call them twins, per se…”

“That’s their whole thing. Don’t be fooled—they’re brothers. Their codenames are based off citrus fruit and they go absolutely crazy on jobs. Do not get near them, do not engage. You understand me, Wasp?”

Hornet’s words were lost as the approaching train rolled up into the station with an accompanying gust of cold wind that ruffled the edge of your dress. Your eyes were still on one of the twins when he turned and caught you staring. That was fine by you—his eyes stayed glued to yours as the train came to a halt.

Too far away to discern his expression, you wondered what he was thinking as he turned his body slightly toward you while still talking to his brother.

The sound of the train doors sliding open with a ding brought you out of your thoughts, and you broke the stare to look inside at the passengers exiting in a steady stream. When they had all filtered out, you cast one more look in his direction, pleased to see that he hadn’t stopped watching you, then boarded the train.

Inside, it was very nice. Rows of padded seats filled both sides. All of the passengers minded their own business, focused on what they had in front of them. Soft music and cartoons played over the speakers of TV’s around the cabin.

You spoke nonchalantly, unbothered by any of the passengers. “I’m on the train. Heading for the cargo hold.”

Your sister’s gruff voice came over the comms, she sounded grumpy. “Copy. Boarding now.” After a beat, she added, “You still haven’t given me your word that you won’t engage with The Twins.”

“That’s because I fully intend to, sis.”

“Absolutely not.”

You sighed dramatically as you passed through into the next cabin. “You always do this when men are involved.”

“Ok, first off, I’m your older sister—that’s part of my job. And second off, you are only 21 years old. That man, he’s probably in his 40’s—”

“—Early 30’s, at most.” You added a smile to your tone in an attempt at making her angrier, “And you know how much I love a mature man.”

“He’s dangerous, Wasp.”

“Ooh, even better.”

“Are you doing this just to piss me off? You did the same thing in Mexico at that wedding job.”

“That? Oh, that was forced. And quite honestly, he wasn’t leaving me alone.”

“…You should have told me.”

“What would’ve been the point? He wound up dead along with the rest of them, anyway.”

“I would have enjoyed poisoning them more.”

“Aw, big protective sis. All up in arms over me.”

The last door slid open to reveal a small closet-like room that held suitcases and bags. Finding an empty spot, you stashed the snake and made sure there was no danger of it falling or being moved.

You let your eyes wander and observe the other bags as you informed Hornet. “Our venomous friend is secure.”

“You have your shot of antivenom, right?”

Practically rolling your eyes into the back of your head, you replied while patting the leg it was strapped to, “For the thousandth time, yes.”

“Good, and don’t use the venom unless—”

“—Unless I have no other choice, I got it. You worry too much.” Peeking out of the small door’s window into the passenger cabin, you scanned the backs of the chairs. “When do I get to kill the little rat bastard with it?”

“Easy there, tiger. If all goes according to plan, you’ll only be watching.”

You pouted. “What? Why?”

“You’re only supposed to be shadowing me on these missions.”

“How am I gonna spread my wings and fly if you keep me in the nest?”

“You know how much I hate that saying.”

“It still applies.”

There was an angry huff from Hornet and she fell silent. Faintly in the background, you could hear the squeaking of the Momomon suit and children’s laughter. You exited the storage room and made your way back toward your seat at the front of the train.

As you entered the tail end of first class, your eyes caught sight of a familiar suit and slick-backed, brown hair. He was facing away from you, toward his brother who was fiddling with something in his lap. Your heart would have gone into overtime if your eyes hadn’t caught sight of The Son, one of your targets, sitting next to the window.

The little shit had apparently caught sight of you too, as he gave you a slimy smile. Repressing the urge to vomit, you smiled sweetly back.

Seeing the gross smile on the brat’s face, the stunning man turned around to see what he was smiling at and caught your eyes. The sweet smile on your lips turned genuine as his face lit up with recognition and the corners of his lips, mustache and all, curled into a crooked smile. You whished for the universe to create some kind of reason for you to stop next to them.

Apparently you had wished on a monkey’s paw instead, because you were about to pass by them when a heavy Russian accent stopped you. “Excuse me, beautiful.”

Turning, and feigning bashfulness—as if looking at this weird man-child wasn’t the last thing you wanted to do, you blinked at him and spoke softly. “Yes?”

He leaned forward, you could see the tattoos on his face pinch up as he smiled wider. “Let me ask you something, would you know where I could find some entertainment on this train?"

Was he serious?

You blinked at him, playing innocent. “Entertainment? I’m not sure what you mean.”

Hornet’s angry voice was in your ear immediately. “Who the fuck is talking to you like that?”

She almost drowned out his next words—that is, if he hadn’t been drawing them out like he loved hearing himself talk. “Yes, you know. A little companionship for a long—”

A heavenly British accent cut through to interrupt him “—Deepest apologies, my dear. Our friend here, has lost his manners.” A gold-ringed hand was white knuckled against the table as its owner leaned forward and shot glaring daggers at the Russian. His jaw clenched more than a few times.

“He’s not right in the head.” His brother across from him added, with a nod.

You met The Son’s gross eyes, right after they were done raking over your figure, and tilted your head, batting your eyelashes a few times. No point in wasting the opportunity.

“What’s your name?” You could have been a fuckin actress at this rate.

He opened his mouth to answer, but the man sitting next to him thumped his chest with a flat, heavy hand, holding him back and speaking for him. “His name’s Percy.”

Your eyes moved to examine his gentle face closely, without malice. You thought you saw little flecks of red on his shirt, just under the edge of his jacket.

“Right, and that’s Lemon,” golden rings pointed toward the man next to ‘Percy’, then back to their owner, “and I’m Tangerine.”

Turning to look between the brothers, you tried out their names, your smile spreading and infecting your voice as you said ‘Tangerine’. Something flashed behind his eyes as you said it.

“Wasp, you are not doing what I think you’re doing!”

You drowned your sister’s voice out as you focused on Tangerine’s words. “And what’s your name, love?”

Everything was going to plan, swimmingly in fact, until, “Was—..” you swallowed the rest of your codename, forgetting to make up something else instead and replying automatically. It sounded strangely cut off and like you had made a mistake.

Tangerine frowned a little, catching on the slip-up, eyes flicking over to meet Lemon’s. They shared a silent conversation. The tone of the interaction shifted drastically into something suspicious, you could distinctly feel it. The Twins were watching you closely, examining you.

The Son snorted, but it did nothing to ease the tension. “Your name is Wass?”

“Get out of there, Wasp. Go, right now. Turn and leave. I’m inbound.”

You lifted your chin a little, stubbornness shining through. “It’s foreign,” sassily, you added, “Percy.”

The Russian snapped his mouth shut with a glare. Tangerine studied you as Lemon asked, “And what brought you to getting on the train today?”

Just as you were about to make up an answer, a blond man with thick black glasses rushed through the cabin, clutching something square-shaped and covered in a green jacket, against his chest. He cast glances over his shoulder as he ran down the aisle. You, and The Twins, silently watched him pass by and into the next train car.

“Lemon, would you please go and check on…” Tangerine’s voice was full of uncertainty. You wondered where Hornet was. Lemon agreed, getting up from his seat, quickly following after the man.

The air had taken on a tight uncomfortableness that you weren’t keen on stewing in. “I think I’m going to return to my seat now—"

As you turned to go in the direction that the blond man had come from, the train door glided open, in the frame stood someone you recognized. Someone from the wedding job in Mexico.

And he looked pissed.

What the fuck was he doing here? The Wolf’s eyes instantly snapped to you. His head tilted to the side; dark brows furrowed. You saw the flash of recognition dawn on him. As his body tensed and he started forward, you whirled back to face the curious, albeit now suspicious, eyes of Tangerine.

You gave a breathy laugh that may have sounded like you were in pain, and your voice came out strained. “Please, excuse me.”

As the sound of thundering footsteps neared, you dashed away, dancing just out of reach from The Wolf’s grasping hand, past him, and through the door that he had entered from, without a second glance back.

Breathlessly, as you sped up your pace through the passenger cars, “Hornet, we got problems. We got big bad problems. The whole plan just went tits-up.”

“What’s going on?”

“The fucking Wolf is here! He’s seen me and obviously remembers me.”

“Why the fuck is he—Ok, doesn’t matter, get somewhere safe! Hide Wasp! I’m gonna make a run on the brat and then we can figure out where the briefcase is and get the hell off this train.”

“Pretty sure some guy—blond, glasses; 99% sure he has it!”

“Alright, just hide and stay there. Wait for me, I’ll be quick.”

“Yep—already on it!”

You rushed through the train cars looking for an empty place to hide. Mostly by sheer luck, you ran into an empty food station car. Bright, colorful bags of chips, snacks, and candies lined the wall behind the counter. You were about to hop over it when the door slid open and The Wolf barreled forward.

His hand grabbed you by the back of your neck and flung you against the opposite wall, knocking the comms piece out of your ear. The impact stunned you and he used the moment to pin you by the throat.

“You were at my wedding.” He growled in your face through gritted teeth. “I saw you flirting with my cousin.”

With his hand around your throat, it was hard to respond, but you croak out, “It was more like he was flirting with me. But no, you’re right, I was there—beautiful event, by the way.” You slowly dipped your hand into the small pocket of your dress.

He pulled you away from the wall to slam you back into it, now holding you at arm’s length. His head reared back to watch the pained expression on your face. Your fingers closed around something in your pocket at the same time as The Wolf brought out a long knife.

With a quiet voice, shaking from cold fury, he brought the knife up to point at your neck. “Did you poison mi familia?”

Whipping the syringe of Boomslang venom out, you attempted to stab him in the arm, or anywhere that you could reach. But he saw the movement and was faster as he knocked it away, sending the venom flying out of sight. He had just gotten his answer.

“Fuuuck.” You hissed, right before his hand pressed harder into your neck, it was getting very difficult to breathe. The knife jabbed into your pulse. You felt a bead of something hot roll down the length of your neck.

“You will pay for what you did.”

Squirming and struggling did nothing, only serving to drive the knife tip further in. Hot, thick blood began to trickle down into the collar of your dress, soaking the fabric. His hungry eyes watched your face twist in pain as he dug the knife in more. A dizziness washed over you, clashing with the buzz of adrenaline. The corners of your vision were starting to go black and you thought you might pass out.

“You know, mate, I honestly don’t think she’s capable of doing what you’re accusin’ her of.”

The wolf’s head whips around to the source of the voice.

Tangerine stood just in front of the door, adjusting the gold rings on his hand. His suit jacket had been discarded, shirt unbuttoned at the top, revealing a gold chain around his neck, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

He pointed to you. “I mean, look at her. Just a little kitten, that one.”

Tangerine tried to take a step forward, but The Wolf shouted a word of warning, twisting the knife into a position that would allow him to easily impale your neck with a shove of his arm. You tried to clear your eyes and keep yourself from passing out, but each blink became longer.

“Easy, easy…” Tangerine soothed. “No need to get nasty.”

From your position you could see Tangerine’s eyes flicking to you and to somewhere off to your right…

“She tried to poison me.” The Wolf argued back, glaring at Tangerine. “Just like how she poisoned everyone at my wedding.”

Your eyes drifted to the right and there was a perfectly placed metal coffee pot. Had that always been there?

Tangerine whistled, mockingly. “How many people were there? Are we talking a large event? Must have been quite impressive to get absolutely everyone in a single go.”

The Wolf’s grip on your neck lessened as he moved his body to face Tangerine. He was in the middle of snarling out a half-formed word as you swung the coffee pot up to connect with his head. There was a satisfying clang that accompanied his eyes rolling back, and he collapsed onto the ground, hard. He didn’t move again.

You stumbled, lowering the coffee pot as you tried to maintain your unsteady footing. It fell out of your fingers and thudded to the floor. Spots blotted out parts of your vision. Looking to the ground you searched for your comms piece, but the movement sent the world tipping. It was furthered by the sight of your dress collar being soaked in blood all the way down to your sleeve.

“Shit.” You hissed, lurching forward.

Sturdy, strong arms wrapped around your waist before you could hit the floor. Gently, much too gently for a contract killer, Tangerine lowered you to a sitting position up against the food counter. Your breath was coming out in fast and unsteady huffs while your eyes still raked over the ground.

You had to find your comms, you had to know where Hornet was.

Tangerine’s calming voice soothed your thoughts as he pressed a hand to your shoulder, keeping you from moving. “Hang on, steady now. I have to fix you up,” His incredibly blue eyes met yours, “before you go back out and get into more trouble.”

He takes your hand and presses it into your neck while he stands and looks around for any kind of first aid. As he rummages behind the counter you catch sight of your small comms piece and clumsily crawl toward it. You can hear the rummaging stop and his footsteps approach. Before you can reach the little ear bud, a gold ringed hand comes down and scoops it up. Your eyes follow it up to where Tangerine studies it, turning it in his fingers.

Glancing between you and the ear piece, he looks like he wants to say something, but decides not to. You only watch him with guarded eyes. He kneels down to level himself with you; there’s a first aid kit in one of his hands. Slowly, he holds out the ear piece without a word and you take it, bloody fingers brushing his.

He watches you with open curiosity as you shove it into your ear, never breaking eye contact with him. On the other end it sounds like Hornet is slipping clothes on over her head. You’re tempted to speak, to check in on her, but you can’t with Tangerine so close. You figure that if she’s still active that must be a good sign.

Tangerine’s eyes drift to look at your neck and he begins to open the first aid kit, pulling out medical supplies and bandages. He spreads the contents onto the ground around you.

Speaking casually, he rips open a packet of disinfectant wipes. “So, what’s your target?” he gives you a look with a glint in his eyes, “And don’t try to play coy with me, love.”

A small whine escaped you as the cold disinfectant touched your skin and stung. His eyes flickered to yours and back to what he was doing, if you weren’t mesmerized and watching his every movement, you’d have missed it.

Despite the stinging pain you grinned. “Did the earpiece give me away?”

A twitch of his mustache revealed his smile. “Actually, it was when you messed up saying your own name.” He lifted the wipe and observed the gash. There was a distinct playfulness in his voice. “Are you new at this?”

You gave him a scoff. “I’ve been on plenty of jobs.”

Noise played into your ear, starting with a mixture of voices. They were muffled, like something was covering the mic. There was crashing soon after, in between more voices. Maybe Hornet had found the briefcase.

Tangerine hummed, sounding amused. After a pause, he glanced at you again and toward your ear. “Who’s that over your comms? Your handler?”

“…Sister”

His fingers paused for a brief second and his smile grew. “Younger or older?”

“Older.”

“Aw, you’re on a little family operation? Positively adorable.”

Adding a challenge to your tone, “Same as you.”

His eyes flashed to yours and you took his silence as an invitation to continue. “Lemon—that’s your brother. I’ve heard a thing or two about you.”

He pulled the wipe away to change it out for a new one, it came away red, but you were starting to feel better. It felt like the bleeding had stopped. Tangerine half scolded himself. “I should have known you recognized us. Should have known from the moment you started a little chat.”

“Maybe I wanted to chat ‘cause I think you’re attractive.” You huffed. “It certainly wasn’t for that weasel.”

Tangerine can’t help his pleased smile, mustache twitching at the corners as his eyes sparkled. “Feelings mutual. I certainly enjoyed you coming over to talk, but I try to keep my desires in check while on a job.”

Clearly amused, and with an easy smile on your lips, you hummed softly. It was the closest you could get to laughing at the moment. “Why, honey? I’m cute.”

Tangerine’s smile broke into a slow spreading grin. He leaned in, feigning as if he was concentrating on cleaning the cut, but he could see just fine before. His breath was soft and warm on your face; a pleasant contrast to the cold disinfectant he spread on your skin.

“No argument there, sweetheart.”

He pulled the wipe away; it was less red than the last. Your attention follows his hands as he picked up another. It was curious to see such a soft side from one of the notorious contract killer Twins.

Your eyes hold his as you speak. “Guess I owe you—for saving my life.”

“This? Ah, only a scratch. You’ll be up in no time.”

A look dances in his eyes, maybe a realization, and something in the air crackles between the short distance of your faces. “But, I won’t turn you down—if you’re offering.”

There was a sudden loud gasping and calling of your name over your comms. It wasn’t Wasp—but your real name. Hornet was calling for help, cutting out intermittently through crashing and what sounded like gulps of air.

“Shit!” You shout, making Tangerine pull back in confusion.

His brows furrowed instantly as he watched you scramble to your feet, swaying slightly. He didn’t have time to stop you or even call out before you were pelting down the train car and out the sliding door. He jumps to his feet running after you. As he passes through the door you’re already at the end of the next cabin. You might not be strong, but you’re fast.

“Hornet! Hornet, what’s wrong? What’s your position?”

“Stabbed with venom. No antidote…Wasp...”

Adrenaline coursed through your veins, making your mind race. “Fuck! I’m inbound—just stay put, ok?”

There was no response and your chest tightened. At most, you had 30 seconds to get to her before…oh god, you couldn’t think about that.

Behind you, about a train car and a half away, Tangerine gets a phone call. He would ignore it usually, but the caller ID was a lemon emoji so he answered while running.

“Yeah? Kinda busy.”

“The Son is dead.”

“Fuck, you’re joking…”

“Bleedin’ out of his eyes—a real frightful mess.”

“Clean ‘em up. I’ll meet with you soon as I’m done.”

“…What are you doing? Are you bloody running?”

Tangerine hangs up the call and shoves the phone back into his pant pocket.

You burst through a door and into the bar car, the yellow glow of the lights giving the room an almost cozy feeling. That would have been the vibe if you hadn’t come in to find the place an absolute disaster, and your sister, now wearing a train personnel uniform and hat, bleeding out of her eyes as she tries to grip at things along the floor.

The blonde man is stumbling out of the opposite end door with the silver case in hand. As he sees you, he starts to say something, but stumbles right into Lemon as the door slides open. He spins around and as the door shuts there’s the muffled sounds of shouting.

You ignore everything and fly to Hornet, who’s barely moving. Tracks of blood run down her face like tears, it’s a sight that will haunt you for the rest of your life. The dose of antivenom, strapped to your leg, was yanked out and shoved into her neck as fast as humanly possible.

Picking her head up off the ground, you cradle it. “It’s ok, I’m here. It’s ok. Please be ok.”

Seconds tick by as you hold your breath, and it feels like an eternity before her choking stops and her breathing returns to normal, but she remains unconscious.

Tangerine comes rushing through the other door and stops to take in the scene. He’s out of breath and panting heavily, sweat shines on his forehead and neck. His eyes find you on the ground cradling, who he assumes, is your sister. Then he noticed the blood coming out of her eyes.

“Who got your sister?”

You wiped a strand of hair off her face, “No one, well, her own venom did this.”

He stops to think for a beat. “Your sister is The Hornet?” Then pauses, the gears in his head turning “You’re The Wasp?”

If this had been any other time you would have beamed that someone like Tangerine knew about you, or had at least heard of you. But the only thing you felt now was a slow sense of dread inching into your veins.

You can see the emotions crossing his face one at a time. “Your sister killed The White Death’s Son. He was part of our contract.”

You spoke slowly, your expression cautious. “That prick and the fucking briefcase were our targets.”

Tangerine’s brow furrows, drawing a deep line into his forehead. His blue eyes were dark with what looked like equal measures of worry, concern, and something else.

Your body tenses, unsure of what Tangerine was going to do next. If he wanted to fight, you had your qualms over that and you preferred not to, but you would sooner die than let anything get through to your sister.

He takes a slow, drawing breath. His following words are careful, even, measured. “The White Death is gonna be at the last stop in Kyoto. I’m going to need to bring in the person responsible for his son’s death…”

The consequences of failing to do so were heavily implied as his voice trailed off, letting you imagine them for yourself. Your grip tightened around Hornet.

To Tangerine you looked more dangerous now than you had ever before; fiercely beautiful in every way, but ready to strike in the blink of an eye.

“Take that other guy then—the one who ran out of here with the briefcase. Blonde man, thick, black glasses. I think your brother was about to intercept him… As for me and my sister, we’ll get off at the next stop. You can have the briefcase—I don’t give a fuck about it anymore. Just let me take my sister to the hospital.”

He chewed his lip momentarily, looking like he was going to argue, before you added, “Please.”

That last little ‘please’ came out small and vulnerable. It was so out of character for you that it surprised Tangerine into dropping his guard. Looking down at the sight of you on the ground cradling your sister, he saw himself in you, just trying to protect your sibling; keep them safe against all odds in an extraordinarily dangerous profession.

However, when he didn’t respond—didn’t move or react, something shifted into your expression and body language. Something defensively hostile. Your eyes watched Tangerine with a palpable intensity that made his heart beat wildly fast. There was an unpredictability there that reminded him of a trapped animal, one that was about to make its escape through you, mauling anything in the way.

Desperation, and giving how fast you could be, Tangerine would likely be stabbed before he could get a shot off. Maybe before he could even bring himself to pull the gun out. The last thing he wanted was to fight you.

10 minutes ago, he was going to suggest dinner. Now, he wasn’t sure he was going to live to get the chance. What a tragedy that would be.

The silence was now bordering on suffocating as you simply stared at one another. It was finally broken by Tangerine’s long, winded release of a heavy breath. Had he been holding it? The pain in his lungs suggested so.

He ran a tremoring hand through his hair, attempting to tame the curls that sprung free. “Yeah, that could work.”

To his relief, the intensity dropped almost immediately and your piercing eyes left his and went back down to examine Hornet. You move her, preparing to pull her up.

Tangerine helps, slinging her arm around your shoulder. Just in time for the next stop. As the train slows down, he escorts you to the door, supporting Hornet’s other arm.

He takes your hand for support as you get off the train and step onto the platform. He doesn’t let go and you look up at him as he half hangs out of the doorway. His eyes look worried, full of unspoken words. You must look the same, because you can see him fighting to say something. You let go of his hand, noticing the resistance from his end, and dig around in your pocket producing a piece of paper. You shove it toward him.

Tangerine frowns slightly, looking down at it as he gingerly takes it. The dinging sound of the train and the swish of the doors starting to close force him back inside. He stands by the door, watching you out of the small window, eyes locked with yours, as the train begins to speed away. The touch of his hand on yours lingers.

Once out of the station, Tangerine leans against the wall. He looks down at the little piece of paper that he realizes is a tiny, handmade business card. One side was a picture of a wasp; flipping it over, he sees a phone number and smiles.

About 5 minutes later you get a text while riding in the back of an ambulance next to Hornet.

It’s from an unknown number. The first thing sent is an emoji of a Tangerine. Then:

Did you make this business card yourself?

You respond back,

Yes, thought I’d need something if I want to go professional one day.

His response is immediate.

It’s cute.

Thank you.

He sends a message a minute later and you smile to yourself as you read it, hearing his voice in your mind.

I didn’t get a chance to ask earlier, and I think it’s a shame that I have to over text, but how about we talk more. Over dinner?

Thought you would never ask. Where are you getting off the train?

🍊 Taglist: @whatiswrongwithpeople

[weird-bookworm]

ᴇʟᴅᴇʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ!ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴇᴇɴ

HYUNG LINE MAKNAE LINE

a/n: part 2 of the abomination i posted 4 (?) weeks ago

pairing: elder brother!svt x reader

genre: headcanons, fluff, crack, comfort

word count: same as before, around 1050-ish

warnings: mentions of food, mention of fire, a couple curse words, mention of harassing (dw nothing srs), idk what can be a trigger help a girl out here 😭

ʟᴇᴇ ꜱᴇᴏᴋᴍɪɴ

LOUD™

(dolby? who's that? i only know dk 👍🏻)

coddles you with love

clingy

no concept of personal space

unexpectedly protective

your room is practically his now

puppy eyes at you for everything

as if he's the younger one and not you

randomly starts singing

*soul left your body* even though you've heard him do it your entire life

despises it when you're sad

gets adorably angry at whoever or whatever made you sad— just to see you giggle

innocent babie

(protecc him pls)

aka you're more dirty minded than he is

might be the elder but you're stuck taking care of him

elaborate skits in the middle of the night

you don't tell him but you enjoy them as much as he does

ᴋɪᴍ ᴍɪɴɢʏᴜ

puppy personified

practically a giant

you often wonder if he took your share of tall genes

25/8 teasing you about your height

"want help shorty?" annoying smirk

"i'm not short you bitch, you're tall" angry pout

*cue giggles*

picks you up randomly and scares you shitless

always ends up cooking for you though

y'all have a very playful relationship

affectionate insults are as plentiful as his clothes

a giant dork basically

gets sad when you're sad

envelops you in his arms and holds you as long as you need

so so easy to prank

and so annoying because he knows every girl you know has a crush on him

flirts with your friends to annoy you

likes to cuddle

wakes up in your room 5 days out of 7

roleplays as your blanket and refuses to move

xᴜ ᴍɪɴɢʜᴀᴏ

you're his princess

the apple of his eye

he's very very soft for you

but you're the person he's fights with the most

Savage™

The sassy siblings ✨

y'all are more twins than anything

similar fashion styles

both martial artists

both self-assured

and really good looking 👀

pretty much a package deal atp

your friends are his friends, and his are yours

you're his forever priority

forces you to meditate lol

as in wakes you up early every morning and makes you sit and meditate with him

will not let you go back to sleep

safe to say he's the only person who's seen your whiny side

ʙᴏᴏ ꜱᴇᴜɴɢᴋᴡᴀɴ

dramatic

bickering

a lot of it

even bickers with your best friend 💀

does favours for you unprompted

"stop looking at me like that, i did it out of the goodness of my heart and this is the thanks i get, hmph"

*dramatically gets mad*

while you're there looking at him like •_• -_- •_•

later uses it as leverage

"remember that one time i brought you a glass of water? you owe me!" "i didn't aSK YOU TO DO IT!!"

embodiment of getting second hand embarrassment

no kidding, pretends he doesn't know you at anything remotely embarrassing you do

✨MaTeRiAl GwOrL✨

hallabong full of sass

only and only He can bully you

you have a problem? hold his americano, he's ready to throw hands

squishy lil tangerine

ᴄʜᴡᴇ ʜᴀɴꜱᴏʟ

chill asf

takes you to movies every weekend

sends you random songs he likes or songs that remind him of you

unbothered king

comfortable silences

hang outs include not speaking and listening to music

while chilling like starfishes on the floor and staring at the ceiling

strange lil guy

except you definitely take after him

down to the style of walking

bad dad jokes

never understands the good ones 💀

occasionally loud enough to rouse the entire neighbourhood

cluelessly cute

does silly things when you're sad

like sit upside down on the sofa

or just wear one of his out-of-this-world 'outfits'

he's secretly offended you're laughing but at least mission accomplished?

ʟᴇᴇ ᴄʜᴀɴ

the only remotely normal one

often complains that you're weird

and he's lucky that he got the better genes

constant fights over who looks better

often drags you to dance with him

whines for you to cook for him

even though his cooking is perfectly fine

once felt generous and decided to help you make dinner in high school

your parents came back home to smoke in the house and the fire alarm going off

don't think he doesn't notice you going soft when he laughs

often acts like the most typical 'oppa'

then both of you cringe and laugh together

sneaks out with you every friday

weirdly mature when the situation calls for it

once punched a guy in the face because he thought he was harassing you

had to awkwardly apologise because that wasn't the case. at all.

very very common and very very petty fights