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alexawynters · 2 months

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Scarlet Whispers pt 12

Gif not mine

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Rating: M. Minors DNI

Chapter Summary: Oh no, a melt down! But make it fluffy at the end

Warning: Hurt/Comfort

Masterlist with parts 1-11 here

A/N: Sorry I am late, life has been... busyyyyyy. But I'm trying to keep up with writing and posting!

Returning to the cottage, as much fun (and terrifying) as the date had been, you longed to take a shower. You were fairly certain you were covered in a layer of grime that combined dirt, sweat, and various animal fur. Also, Australia had been hot as fuck, if you could help it, that shower was going to be nice and cold even if it would be a bit of a shock to the system.

“Dibs!” you shouted, as you booked it to your shared room, stripping as you ran. It would probably be polite to let the woman who had planned all of this to go first, but if you had to tolerate one more second of this ~texture~ against your skin, as much as you loved Wanda, you knew you were going to turn into an intolerable bitch.

Wanda simply laughed at your antics and followed. You could call dibs all you liked, but if you thought she was going to wait for you to get out of the shower before she joined, you were sorely mistaken. A salacious smirk crossed her features as she imagined your expression when she surprised you. She would wait a little though, taking her time letting you get situated while she undressed.

The moment the cool water touched your over-heated flesh you hissed. It wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as you had expected, in fact it was a relief. Knowing you were going to have to scrub to get the grime off, still you could feel some of it already sliding off with the mere pressure of the water and that was enough to ease some of the overstimulation to your senses. Somehow you had managed to avoid showing Wanda your more obvious symptoms when overstimulated, usually keeping them managed. A lifetime masking them, learning your triggers, and thresholds, you had learned how to de-escalate yourself.

Today certainly had been a lot. Overall, it was a great day. There were certainly bumps in the road but between Wanda being just perfect, and you working to get your mask under control, everything had been manageable. By the time you had gotten into the shower though, you felt as if you were about to claw your own flesh off. It wouldn’t be too long, you just needed a little bit to decompress and for the love of the gods, get that grime off your skin.

This was why you had called dibs. There was only one shower, and while Wanda could easily have conjured a second one if you had asked her, you didn’t want to put her out after she already had done so much for you. However, you were afraid if you didn’t get clean immediately you were going to have a meltdown from which there was no hiding, nor recovering. After Wanda had already told you she had more still planned for the evening, you didn’t want to risk ruining that, so dibs you called, and fled promptly to the shower.

What you hadn’t expected was for Wanda to join you shortly thereafter, and really, you probably should have after your conversation this morning. When the older woman stepped in behind you, a scream nearly ripped itself from your throat.

“Hello there, detka.” voice husky, just behind your ear.

“W-Wanda, hey! W-uh, what are you doing here? In the shower, with me?” Your voice cracked, and you refused to turn around lest she see your panicked face.

The witch chuckled, thinking you were simply flustered. “I thought after our conversation this morning it would be quite clear. I’m showering with you. Like I said, I won’t bite. Much.”

Soft hands came up to frame your body, pausing as you froze in her grasp.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” She removed her hands from your body.

It was too late. Your mind was a tumultuous whirlwind, what little touch she had provided, gentle as it was, was simply too much, and you wanted to scream, cry, lash out. None of those things were acceptable, and you didn’t want to hurt the love of your life in any way, so instead you completely shut down. Not intentionally, you were simply incapable in that moment of verbalizing what was happening without an outpouring of emotion accompanying it.

Nevertheless Wanda found herself buffeted by your thoughts and emotions, though she couldn’t clearly discern any one in particular. Only distress.

“Dorogoya, can you tell me what’s wrong?”

More silence.

“Y/N I try not to do this, but I’m worried for you. Is it okay if I read your mind to understand what’s going on? To know how to help you?”

A nearly imperceptible nod was all the witch needed. Honestly, even if you hadn’t given it, she probably would have done so anyway. It wasn’t… the best moral decision, but seeing you so upset and not knowing why or how to help made her so worried. Green eyes radiated a soft scarlet, as Wanda filtered through your thoughts and emotions.

Fear, embarrassment, shame, discomfort, gross, overwhelmed, too much, make it stop, make it sto-

Wanda retreated from your thoughts. She had suspected that you were Autistic, but never knew if you’d had a formal diagnosis. There had been little signs, though today’s incident with the horse, and just now confirmed it for her. She hated that you felt as if you had to hide this from her, even if she understood why though

Your comfort came first and foremost. Utilizing her magic, she instantly cleansed the pair of you, removing the dirt, sweat, and grime before turning the water off and leaving you both in silence. Not wanting to overwhelm you, she spoke gently, directly into your mind.

“I’m sorry, lyubov moya, I didn’t know. You have nothing to be ashamed of. It’s okay, you’re okay. I still love you, and I’m still here. I’m going to be in the bedroom when you are ready, love. Take your time, but know that no matter what, I will never abandon you.” Though the older woman longed to place a kiss to the back of your neck reassuringly, from what little she knew, Wanda believed it wouldn’t be helpful to you now. Focusing instead on what was best for you she kept her word, heading to the bedroom to make some changes in preparation for your arrival.

To any normal person, Wanda’s reassurances would probably have been enough, but all you could think was this was it: She was finally going to realize just how broken you were and leave just like everyone else did. Just like your parents always said everyone would. Gods you needed therapy. You really needed to remember to ask Wanda if she could help set that up for you. If she didn’t go running for the hills that is.

In an effort to stop your spiral, you focused on your breathing. In for four, hold for four, exhale for four. Once that was under control, you began taking into account three things you could see, three things you could smell, three things you could touch, and so on. Grounding yourself was key, and you were careful not to look at anything too bright, to sniff too hard, or touch any textures that were not known pleasant ones. You could do this. You could recover, and when, not if, when you did, you would go out and promise Wanda you could change. That you would get better.

You couldn’t. Change, that is, but you would get better at masking. You had done it before, you would do it again. Anything as long as you could convince Wanda to keep you by her side. At this point, you didn’t think you could stand going back to the real world. Aside from the very real fear that you would have to live with your parents again (which again, you were positive they wouldn’t take you back anyway so.. homeless) and you would almost rather die than put yourself through that again. Now that you knew what it was like to be truly cared for by another person, you could admit that the way your parents had treated you was not how parents should treat their children, even as adults.

There was also the fact that you had fallen head over heels for the witch, genuinely enjoying being in her presence. Yes, you would like to make some additional friends, but you were sure you could get Wanda to eventually warm up to that. With these outings, she didn’t seem to mind you interacting with any of the staff and if she really wanted you to be happy, she would have to let you make friends. She could be won over on that topic, Wanda was just afraid to lose you, but once convinced you were hers, she would loosen the reins a little. You were certain of it.

Now though, you were terrified of losing it all over your meltdown. It had to be fixed. You had to be better. Wanda deserved at least that. Gathering all your courage (which admittedly wasn’t much, but for Wanda, you would find some), you left the shower, drying off. Mentally you were preparing everything you would say to the witch to convince her to keep you. It’s not like you were above begging.

As you stepped foot into your shared bedroom, a quiet gasp escaped you. The cottage-core style bedroom you had become familiar with had been completely transformed. More modern, the lighting was a soft, pale lavender. In the corner where previously had been a small television was now a zen waterfall, the water trickling soothingly. Your bed had been modified: It appeared to have a low hanging canopy completely encircling the bed with only one entrance, making it a perfect little nest.

To say you were speechless would be an understatement. A second ago you had been gearing yourself to come out and beg the witch to not throw you out, to plead your case that you could change and were worthy of keeping around. Not for a moment had you expected to come out and find that the witch had redone the room into an entirely sensory friendly experience just for you.

“I- what’s all this?” You could very well see, but you wanted verbal confirmation, not trusting yourself, as always.

Wanda spoke and you didn’t think you had ever heard her voice this soft.

“Darling, you were having a hard time. I just wanted to make things easier for you, so I made the room a bit more… friendly.. for you. What good are all these powers of mine, if I don’t use them to help the one I love most?”

Your throat tightened at that four lettered word.

“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.” I’m not worth it, went unsaid, but as usual Wanda knew.

“Of course I did, detka. You mean everything to me. I’m sorry for not realizing you were hurting earlier and just barging into the shower with you. I should have asked. I didn’t, I just assumed, and I’m sorry. You were just trying to decompress, and I made it so much worse for you. That’s never what I want for you, lyubov.”

Wanda sat on the chaise lounge, wanting nothing more than to take you into her arms, and hold you until all your bad feelings went away, but this was about what you needed, not what she wanted. So she waited for you.

With tentative steps, you walked further into the room, taking it all in. How could you have thought moments ago that this wonderful woman would ever possibly throw you out? How many ways could she say and demonstrate that she loved you and was here for you?

A few steps more and you were within arm's length of the redhead. Wanda observed you curiously as your lower lip trembled and your eyes watered. Before she could ask you what was the matter, you threw yourself at her. Only a decade of Avenger honed reflexes enabled her to catch you in her arms, preventing the pair of you from tumbling to the floor. Lightly muscle arms held to her as you cried into her neck, your entire body wracked with sobs.

Comforting words in her native Sokovian were muttered softly in your ear as Wanda held you. One hand behind your head pressed you firmly but gently into her neck, the other ran soothing ministrations up and down your back. It wasn’t long before you had cried yourself out, laying exhaustively in her arms, only whimpering occasionally.

“Malyshka, do you want to get into the bed and make a nice nest?”

Stubbornly you shook your head. That would involve parting from Wanda, and you didn’t want to do that. Wanda was solace. Wanda was safe. Wanda… was home.

Said woman chuckled at your rather loud, if childlike thoughts. Too precious. She was grateful the little research she had been able to do while you were in the shower had paid off. There hadn’t been much time, but fortunately thanks to Wanda’s magic, it hadn’t taken her long to get everything ready.

“What if I get in bed with you, malysh?”

A pause as you contemplated. Finally, you gave a single nod in acceptance. You made no move to get up though. If Wanda wanted to get you into bed, she could finagle that herself, but you weren’t willingly leaving her arms unless it was over your cold, dead body.

Though you weren’t able to see it, the witch rolled her eyes fondly at your antics. Fortunately, the same training which afforded her superior reflexes also improved her overall fitness and strength. She was no Thor, but Wanda could certainly lift you with relative ease, and so she did, carrying you over to the bed. With some awkward shuffling, she eventually had you both situated comfortably. Initially Wanda had set you as the little spoon, your go to position for cuddling. However, it only took a moment for you to decide that was not what you wanted, and you swiftly rectified the situation by rolling over and burying yourself in her arms, wiggling happily.

A surprised giggle left the older woman, but she loved when you got like this. How tactile you could be. It wasn’t possible for your bodies to be physically closer unless they were literally fused together, but you were clearly bent on trying to be. The former avenger could feel your fingers periodically flexing against her sweater (specifically chosen due to its soft texture in the hopes it wouldn’t irritate should it come into contact with you), unable to actually pull her any closer, but squeezing anyway.

No words were spoken for some time. Without moving, and therefore no access to a phone or watch, Wanda couldn’t say for certain exactly how much time had passed, but it was probably at least an hour if not a bit more. She had planned more for your evening, but with how content you were in her arms, the world could be on fire and she wouldn’t dare move you. Your eyes had closed a long time ago, breathing evened out. One could almost mistake you for having fallen asleep if it weren’t for how every so often you would nuzzle under Wanda’s chin. Every time you did, her heart melted. She was glad you were feeling better, and if you never got to go on the rest of the date tonight, that was just fine with her.

You however, had not forgotten. This lovely nest Wanda had created for you had done the trick. Well, that and cuddling with your favorite person. You weren’t sure what time it was, but you hoped it wasn’t too late. Lethargically, you disentangled your limbs from the witch’s so you could stretch and yawn (if Wanda’s intrusive thoughts to poke your tongue with her finger almost won, well, that was her business).

“Hey Wands?” You asked quietly, not wanting to break the spell of comfort entirely just yet.

“Yes, detka?”

“I don’t know what else you had planned for today, but if it’s not too late, can we still go out?”

Unbeknownst to you, even if it had been too late, Wanda had the capability to turn back time, such was the magnitude of her powers, but she wouldn’t bother you with that just now. Instead, she smiled at your eagerness.

“Of course, lyubov. Are you sure you’re up for it though? You don’t have to do that for me, if you want to stay here for the rest of the night and cuddle, that’s perfectly alright by me.” Hooking her index finger beneath your chin, she tilted your face to make eye contact with you, gauging your reaction to her words.

Ever the considerate one, you thought fondly.

“I’m sure. I was really excited to go, and if it’s alright with you, I would like to still go, please?”

Sensing your sincerity, Wanda grinned and crawled out of bed with you, helping you out when your foot got tangled in the sheets and had stumbled.

“I would love to, Y/N. Look in the closet for something semi-formal, and we can head out.”

Semi-formal? Where were you going? One of these days this woman was going to spill the beans, or you were going to tickle it out of her, you thought boldly.

The witch whirled back to arch an eyebrow at you daringly. Gulping, you acquiesced that formal was fine, asking instead how long you had to get ready. Technically you had all the time in the world, but Wanda gave you a timeline of about an hour for expediency's sake.

As Wanda left you to get ready, though where she went, you weren’t sure, you both shared a bedroom. However, when you opened the closet, it became clear the woman must have used her magic to transform it for you - everything in it was to your taste. There must be another closet for her elsewhere in the house. Or maybe she didn’t even need a closet? Perhaps she could simply conjure her clothing around herself, you were pretty certain you had seen her do that once after a shower with pajamas. You appreciated that she was allowing you to pick your own outfit, realizing she could simply dress you herself.

Heat bloomed across your cheeks, finding the thought more appealing than you probably should. It was healthy to have some level of independence in a relationship, right? Somewhere in the recesses of your mind the initials of a lifestyle pricked at your curiosity, but you pushed them back. You weren’t… one of those people, and surely neither was Wanda. Even if… part of you wondered what could be.

Disregarding such thoughts, you focused on perusing the closet in search of something to wear for the evening. Semi-formal, semi-formal. how convenient that the entire closet was filled with such attire, all in different cuts, styles, and colors. Half tempted as you were to find the witch and see what she was going to be wearing so you could compliment her, you deigned instead to trust in her instincts. Wanda never let you down, and even if you clashed, there were plenty of other options for you to change into.

Eventually you settled on a soft charcoal blazer, cream button up, the top two buttons left undone, dark grey chinos cuffed at the bottom, and black Oxfords. Briefly you debated on a tie, but Wanda had said semi-formal, so you thought the tie might be too much. To touch it up a little though, you added a classic silver and black Rolex Daytona, and a few of your black rings. A look at yourself in the mirror, and honestly, you felt pretty good.

Lately that has been the case. You wouldn’t say you couldn’t recall the last time you looked in the mirror and felt the need to vomit at your appearance, you absolutely could, and it was recently. These days though weren’t nearly as bad as it had been in the past, and they were definitely occurring less often than you were used to. The last time it had happened, Wanda had held your hair back while you emptied out the contents of your stomach into the toilet, rubbing soothing circles onto your back. By then she was long familiar with these episodes, and they broke her heart for you.

So ingrained was your mothers scathing, hateful voice in your brain that it had practically become your own. Often whispering vile, untrue and derogatory words, belittling yourself to the point of making yourself physically ill. The witch could only imagine what that must have been like growing up hearing all of it in person from someone who was supposed to have provided you with words of love and support instead.

Now though, you felt pretty dapper. Lightly mussed hair, a crooked grin upon your lips, eyes sparkling with happiness, one might even say you looked dashing. A thrill ran through you at your appearance, and that you were even capable of admitting it to yourself that you weren’t totally trash. Pleased overall with your appearance, you took a gander at your watch for the time - definitely early. You set off in search of your favorite person, hoping to catch her with enough time to see what she was wearing in case you needed to change because what you were wearing clashed with her outfit (poor you, grey goes with just about everything, apparently).

You didn’t have to search far, in the living room watching her shows was Wanda. Mouth suddenly dry, you struggled to swallow. You thought her outfit for your last date had been unfairly attractive on her - what she was wearing now should be a crime against your libido. Mommy? Sorry.

Crushed velvet blood red blazer, white button up done all the way to the collar, the length of the cuffs exaggerated extending beyond the blazer. Her legs were crossed, drawing your attention to her pants which were made of the same material and color as the blazer and tapered nicely to her ankles, leading your eye line to her beige heels. You gulped loudly, drawing the woman’s attention to your presence.

She took a moment to look upon your form appreciatively, eyes dark. “You look very handsome, detka.”

“Sdjka error..” you whispered to yourself quietly, not realizing this was an outside thought.

The redhead full on belly laughed and you blushed furiously, wishing the floor would swallow you whole.

Not wanting you to remain too embarrassed for long, Wanda stood to embrace you, kissing your cheek. “Thank you, for the compliment” she couldn’t resist one last tease before wrapping her arm low around your waist, settling her hand on your hip.

You just mumbled, letting her move you as she saw fit, before finally being able to speak again properly. “You look amazing, Wands, truly.”

Her smile could power a small sun.

“Are you ready, lyubov?”

Excitement returned as you remembered what you were dressed up for. Subtly you tried to contain your bounces to a minimum, settling for a small wiggle. “Please?”

The telltale portal appeared before you and Wanda escorted you through. First thing you were able to tell, it was noticeably cooler than the one you set foot through this morning. Not Australia then. You tried not to show your relief. The country was beautiful, and you loved petting the cows, and the horses, but.. you did not want to go back too soon. The faintest scent of the ocean invaded your nostrils - it wasn’t likely in walking distance, but this was definitely an oceanic city.

A quiet tree-lined street, the sounds of traffic were distant. A brick lined building stood out, with a brass plaque along it, in elegant text: Quince. It must be a restaurant, likely Italian if you had to guess. Arm still wrapped around your waist, Wanda led you in its direction, and you followed your shepherd. Ever the gentlewoman, she opened the door, gesturing for you to proceed. As you entered into the vestibule, you saw the maître d’, decked out to the nines waiting for you expectantly. Panicked, you froze, having no idea what name the reservation was under. A people person, you were not, you didn’t even make your own doctor appointments if you didn’t have to.

Fortunately for you, Wanda was immediately back by your side, and to your surprise, the man seemed to be expecting her. “Ah, Ms. Maximoff, right on time! This way, please.”

You looked at her quizzically. How could you be on time after everything? Oh. Right. Magic. A wizard is never late, he arrives precisely when he means to, you quoted silently to yourself and tried not to chuckle at your Lord of the Rings reference.

“Thank you, Jacobsson. Come on, detka.” Her arm was back around your waist, gently pulling you along behind the maître d’ as he led you through the restaurant. From the plaque and the man’s attire alone you had guessed the place was fancy, but you’d had no idea what you were about to walk into. Entering into the main dining area, the walls lined with brick, accented with beautifully stained mahogany, but what really stood out were the chandeliers that peppered the ceiling. Those couldn’t have been cheap glass. You squinted. Those had to be real crystal. Shit, how fucking expensive was this place? You looked at Wanda, attempting to sus out just where she had brought you.

As usual, the older woman gave nothing away, hers a perfect poker face. Knowing you would get nothing from her, you continued to take in the restaurant. Seemed a bit odd that no one else was there.

Suddenly Jacobsson began speaking, drawing your attention back. “Quince first opened it’s doors in 2003 by Chef Michael Tusk and his wife, Lindsay, in Pacific Heights. The restaurant moved in January 2023, highlighting the 20-year anniversary, to our current location here in Jackson Square, which incidentally is next door to our sister restaurant, Cotogna. Quince is one of only five other restaurants in California to boast three Michelin stars. (ehhh, google had conflicting info on all of this, suspend your disbelief) Here at Quince, we abide by a farm-to-table ethos in creating our contemporary Northern Italian cuisine. Chef Tusk works with ingredients from local farmers, ranchers, fishmongers and creameries—building on relationships that, in some cases, reach back 20 years. What’s more, the chef does much of the food shopping himself, often traveling to nearby Marin County for meat, produce and eggs.”

Oh. That… explained so much. Jesus Christ, you didn’t want to know how much this place was going to cost. Not that you were going to be able to tell - places like this didn’t post the prices on their menus. It wouldn’t matter, Wanda was never going to dream of letting you contribute, much less pay, which to be fair, what little funds you had left were dwindling from the last few times she had agreed to compromise and let you contribute. There wasn’t much left for you to make a dent in anything.

Sensing your anxiety, as always, the hand on your waist gripped a little tighter, thumb running soothingly up your side. Soon enough Jacobsson had brought you to your table. There wasn’t any place inside that could be considered secluded, the restaurant seated a mere ten tables. Since there weren’t any other guests though, combined with the ambiance of the lighting against the dark mahogany, the vibe felt very intimate.

The redhead pulled out your chair for you, pushing you in once you had gotten comfortable in it before taking her own seat. Jacobsson handed you both your menus, informing you that your waiter would arrive shortly, and the chef would be out in a little while to greet you. Once the man left, you turned to Wanda, eyes wide almost accusing.

“Madam!” Your voice was playful but exasperated.

Wanda’s in turn dripped with faux innocence. “What is it, detka?”

“You know very well what it is. Three Michelin starred restaurant? No one else here, and the host just gives us the whole restaurant’s history and then the freaking chef is going to introduce himself to us?! I know you have a black card, Wands, and I know we never exactly discussed your financial situation, but do I even want to know how much all this cost for you just to arrange, let alone the dinner?”

The witch considered you, weighing the likelihood of your actually being upset versus just not used to being spoiled. “Dorogoya, I want to spoil you, why are you concerned with money? I have more than enough to cover it?”

A strangled noise escaped your throat. “It’s not that I doubt if you have the funds, Wands, I just.. it’s a lot of money to be spending on me. I don’t have any way to repay you, and I could never afford to treat you to something this nice. It feels… uneven.”

The root cause of your concerns were two-fold, and Wanda understood. Hoping to alleviate your concerns, she explained. “Y/N, first of all, there is never an amount of money that is too much to spend on you. You deserve the world, and as I will continue to tell and show you over and over again, one day you will believe me. It brings me joy to spoil you. I don’t want nor expect you to “repay” me, as you put it. I can understand how you might view my treating you to such extravagances as “uneven”, but detka, you provide me with so much more with just your presence than money could ever provide. I don’t need you to take me out to a fancy dinner to make me feel loved.”

You bristled slightly. “And you think that I do?”

Wanda sighed, gathering her thoughts to explain. “Of course not, lyubov. You know of.. Americans say “love languages”? One of my preferred methods to show how much I care is to give gifts. It is not the only method, simply one of many. I know however that it is more about how you prefer to receive love, but I also know that I cover those you prefer with words of affirmation, physical touch, and quality time. So please, Y/N, indulge me in this? It makes me happy to make you happy. Unless you’re telling me it doesn’t make you happy? In which case I will respect you of course, and we can leave immediately.”

When the witch looked at you so earnestly, how could you help but give in? It was a nice gesture, and when would you ever get an opportunity to go to any of the places she had taken you to otherwise? Really, you felt a little shitty, like maybe you were spitting in the face of her generosity.

“Okay, Wands. But since we are on that topic, I wanted to speak with you a bit about having some more equality in our relationship?”

If it were physically possible, Wanda’s heart would have sunk into her stomach. Desperately she tried to think of what you could be referring to. In what ways were you unequal? Honestly, there were several, but that was a pill she wasn’t ready to swallow. But you were looking at her so timidly, afraid of her reply, and wasn’t that exactly what she didn’t want? Swallowing harshly, the woman nodded, prepared to ask you to elaborate when the waiter arrived.

He introduced himself as Matteo and asked for your drink orders. Afraid of what was coming, you surprisingly ordered a double shot margarita, feeling the need for some liquid courage. Wanda on the other hand, felt the need to keep a cool head, so she stuck with water, and a simple Chardonnay that was mostly for appearance’s sake. Matteo then read off the specials and left the pair of you to your devices.

An uncomfortable silence overtook the table. This was not what Wanda had envisioned for the night, and you felt terrible for ruining things. Still, if you didn’t bring it up while you were thinking about it, you never would. You were like that, bring it up in the moment, or never. Or rather, bring it up 4 months later after stewing on it to the point of explosive anger, and neither of you deserved that.

Eventually Wanda broke the silence. “So, you mentioned… equality in the relationship?”

“Oh, yes.” Slowly you took a steadying breath. This conversation could go one of two ways. Wanda had made such good progress with you and being less controlling, but had she made enough to make this request work?

“So in every healthy relationship,” you stressed the word healthy. “People do things like go to work, or school, or see friends.”

Wanda tensed. She thought you were passed this. She really didn’t want to have to forcefully block such impulses from your mind, that felt… like blocking off a crucial part of what made you, well, you. Begrudgingly she listened, if only to buy herself time to formulate an argument against it.

“I’m not asking to go back home, or anything like that. I’m just asking if like.. I would like to feel productive, I guess? I want to learn some new skills. I get that you said I don’t need a job, and I’m trusting you on that. But there are things I would like to learn simply because I would like to know more about them. To add to that, I would also like to have my own money to buy small things I like when we are out.”

Wanda started to interrupt, but Y/N held up her hand, and Wanda bit her cheek.

“I know, you want to pay for everything, and for the most part I have tried to let you. Please understand though that it makes me sort of uncomfortable to allow you to pay for absolutely every single thing. Plus then when I want to buy something for you, it’s with your own money and that just seems wrong to me. I want to buy you something with the money that I’ve earned.”

It killed her inside, but the witch nodded for you to continue. Pleased that she hadn’t exploded, you hurried to get out what was probably going to kill the whole deal.

“Lastly, I… I want to make friends, Wanda.”

Eye twitch. It didn’t go unnoticed, and you rushed your next sentence before she could change her mind and stop you.

“It’s just not healthy to only have each other. I really like you, like.. so, so much. I love spending time with you more than anything else in the world and I don’t want you to think that I would ever rather spend time with anyone else. But I also know that we have to have other people in our lives, or we’ll sour our own relationship, so if we could please try making friends? I’m not even asking to make friends separately!”

At this point you were about to beg. “We could look for a couple friends and go on double dates and stuff! Wouldn’t that be cute?” You appealed to her weakness: your nearly undeniable puppy eyes.

Silence stretched for what felt like infinity while Wanda considered all you had said. Finally, she opened her mouth to respond, when the Chef came out to introduce himself.

He was a very nice man, and spoke for a few minutes about the menu, where the ingredients were sourced that day, and how happy he was that she had chosen his restaurant. He hoped she would enjoy their dinner and told her if there was anything they didn’t like to please not hesitate to let him know and he would make it right. Wanda politely conversed and agreed, and at any other time she would have probably thoroughly enjoyed his conversation but right now she just wanted him to be gone. She should just stop time right now and hash this out but she didn’t want to risk ruining anything by being hasty.

When the chef left, Wanda could have cheered. Instead, she took a breath to settle her thoughts. As much as she hated to admit it, you made valid, rational points. These were all things you really wanted, enough to withstand several memory wipes, enough to bring it up with her, and so timidly knowing she would probably be upset. The last time that you had brought it up and she hadn’t wiped you, she had shot you down non too graciously. It wasn’t that she had blown up, per se, rather she had completely shut the conversation down.

Wanda weighed her options. She could wipe you, yet again, but at this point she was only putting off the inevitable. She could force the independence out of you, erasing that part of your identity. She could shut the conversation down once again, and as passive as you were, that would buy her time. There was no doubt in her mind though you would come to resent her for it, as you would the other options should they ever to light. Alternatively, Wanda could agree to your terms. With some caveats, of course.

“Okay.”

“Please, Wans, just think ab- wait, okay?”

“Okay. These are clearly things that would make you happy. Things you really want. I want you to be happy detka, so... Okay.”

You cheered, but the witch cut in.

“But! I do have some conditions. I still have enemies out there who would hurt you to get to me, and I can’t risk anything happening to you. Will you hear my conditions?”

Of course you would. You didn’t think Wanda would even let you get this far. “Yes!”

She chuckled at your enthusiasm. “As far as school goes, I’d prefer for you to do online classes at home.”

Your head tilted. “Online? But we don’t have any internet?”

Wanda sighed. She owed you the truth, and it was time she shared at least some of it with you.

“I may have told you a half truth when I brought you to our home, dorogoya. I’m not proud of it, but I didn’t want you to know how much time was passing, so I blocked off all network connectivity to our home while you were adjusting. I was afraid you would be too focused on needing to go home instead of getting to know me, but… if wanting to learn is something you are passionate about, I can arrange for you to have access to online courses.”

Green eyes peered at you through long lashes, waiting for you to lash out at her for her deception. It never came. You understood, even if you didn’t agree with it. After the incident with her cellphone’s notification several months ago, you had suspected as much and now she had just confirmed it. In the end it had been to your benefit though, so could you really be mad if the ends justifies the means? You chose to ignore the way she glossed over the fact that she effectively kidnapped you and held you hostage, finding her preference of the word “adjusting” almost amusing. Stockholm syndrome was a real thing, but you didn’t believe what you had with Wanda could be attributed to that. Well. Not now at any rate.

“Okay, I agree to that. Can I pick the classes I want to take?”

Blinking, confused, Wanda asked “Why would you ask me that? They’re your classes.”

Your silence spoke volumes, and Wanda once again internally raged against your deceased parents, wishing she could kill them yet again. “You can pick whatever classes you want, detka. They’re yours to take.”

A small, happy smile graced your lips.

“Regarding your job.”

The smile dropped. You waited for the caveat.

“No more than 10 hours a week, and they can’t interfere with your classes. If your grades start dropping, you have to drop the job, understood?”

Eagerly, you nodded. Those seemed like perfectly reasonable boundaries, ones you would probably even set for yourself. What you didn’t know was that whatever job you got, Wanda was going to make sure your manager adhered to that allotted ten hours, no more, they would only ever be a set schedule for when you weren’t having classes, and Wanda wasn’t putting up with any of that minimum wage bullshit. If she had to pay you out of her own pocket, you need never know. No one was taking advantage of you if she could help it, and fortunately for you, she had all the power to ensure it.

“As for the friends, I… suppose… we could look into that. I’m not a very sociable creature, Y/N, you know this. But for you, I will try. Just don’t expect a lot too soon, okay? Let’s get everything else going, see where we stand then and go from there, okay?”

Elation filled you. If asked, you would have said you could have walked on air. Wanda was trying so hard for you. She really was perfect. Obviously she had flaws, like everyone, but where it counted, she was perfect.

“I love you.”

Silence.

You both stared at each other. Those words were not meant to be uttered aloud by you just now. Inside thoughts, and all that. But seeing Wanda try so hard for you, more than the restaurant, more than the outings she arranged for you, it was these compromises she had just agreed to which sealed her into your heart. Such concessions must have been weighing heavily on her, and once upon a time the woman could have either blown up or shut you down, but instead here she was trying to make compromises. With fairly reasonable ones at that, all because she knew it would make you happy.

You loved Wanda. You knew that to your core, and to be honest, you had known for a while. It was clear Wanda had loved you as well, she had certainly made no secret about it. From the way she spoke to you, cared for you, helped you. You felt it in the way she crafted experiences with your enjoyment in mind, in the way she touched you.

This wasn’t how you had planned on telling her. You’d wanted to save up some money first and take her out on a nice date in return, make some grand gesture, as opposed to ungracefully blurting it out after a super serious discussion. Nevertheless, the words were out there, and you didn’t want to take them back.

“I love you, Wanda. With all my heart.” Gently, you took her hand in yours on the table, holding it as you gazed into her eyes letting her see the truth of your words for herself.

Words Wanda had longed to hear from the moment she’d laid eyes on you in this universe didn’t hit her like a train she often daydreamed. They rolled over her like the relieving mist of summer’s rain against her skin on a hot day. The air, once heavy and oppressive, was replaced by a crisp invigorating coolness, leaving a trail of relief in its wake, washing away the tension. Scars long burnt into her heart were soothed and eased by your words.

Lashes fluttered closed as a lone tear rolled down her cheek. Alarmed, you leapt from your chair to kneel in front of the older woman, using your thumb to wipe away the tear. Of all the reactions you expected to your words, this was not one of them. Before your anxiety could run away with you though, Wanda’s hand shot up to clutch yours, pressing both yours and hers more firmly onto her face before she opened her eyes to gaze at you lovingly.

“Happy tears, lyubov,” she whispered.

“Oh.”

Slowly, as if afraid you might startle like a baby deer, the witch leaned into your personal space until her lips were but a breath from your own. She glanced from your eyes to your lips, and back. “I love you too, Y/N”

It was the softest kiss you had ever received. There was no heat, just a simple pressing of lips against each other, knowing the truth had finally been admitted to both of you.

A quiet clearing of the throat came from the side. You both parted to see Matteo had returned to take your order. To your surprise, you weren’t the only one who blushed this time. With a grin, you took your seat, letting Wanda order for you as usual.

The rest of your dining experience was a blur, which would be disappointing for such a treat, but given how Wanda enjoyed spoiling you, it stood to reason you would be returning to this restaurant soon. Dinner was filled with heated glances and teasing touches. The air was thick with anticipation. Normally you would probably be miffed about your meal containing such tiny portions but at this point you weren’t sure how much you could eat. In truth, you wished Wanda would just get the check so you could leave. That would be incredibly rude to the chef though, and he seemed really nice.

After what seemed like an age, dinner was finished. The chef came out once again to chat, which fortunately was brief, and thanked Wanda for her patronage. When she stood up to leave, you realized she had pre-paid in advance. Likely very handsomely, which made the entire evening make more sense. You were relieved as that meant you could go now, no need to wait.

Wanda casually tossed a roll of bills on the table for gratuity and once again led you out of the restaurant though you noticed her hand had drifted far lower, resting possessively on your ass. A shiver rolled down your spine as you considered what awaited you when you got home.

A/N: Fashion: I hate it. Google. Had to do much googling of formal fucking attire (straight cheated and looked up Elizabeth Olsen outfits for Wanda). And thEN!! I had to try to figure out how to describe it! Honestly, I really just wanted to go by brands because that made more sense to me than “it’s a chino”. Okay?? That looks like a colored jean?? Tf is a chino? I have no idea wtf I’m doing. If it doesn’t come on a mannequin, idk how to put it together. I literally have to take pictures in the store so once I get it home, going forward I can wear it again. Don’t ask me the amount of money I have wasted on outfits I thought I would remember to put together later that I absolutely did not, and then never wore again (looking at you red and gold plaid slacks - what am I supposed to do with you??? Why???). For the love of god, someone please style me for the rest of my life. I’ll give you my credit card. Jk, I have no money :’( I’ll write you shitty fanfiction??? I realized too late that Wanda’s hair is red for this. Can red hair and red clothes go together? I’m sure, yes? I spent too much time googling that and then… Questioned my life choices.

A/N 2: Some of this is based on my own life experience (some exaggerated for story purposes or changed to protect them and or myself) with family but before anybody flames my mother, please note that she has gone to therapy, and has (as I have gotten into my mid 30s) made changes, apologies, and supported me in my own growth and journey. I want to be clear; I do not wish my mother was dead, but creative writing can be it’s own form of therapy, and I’m writing this from my perspective from when I was in my early 20’s.

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop @sadslasher13 Also @xxxtwilightaxelxxx your reblogs with the additional tags are giving me life lol bless.

#Wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #dark wanda x reader #yandere!Wanda #yandere wanda maximoff #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader

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lionlena · 11 months

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A perfect day for a perfect girl (PedroPascalxreader)

Okay, so this is a reward for @reniescarlett bc she is my 300th follower :D

Request from here.

I tried to make it really nice and sweet. Just one moment of uncertainty, but Pedro quickly dispels it.

Fluffffff

You felt soft kisses on your stomach and smiled. Without opening your eyes, you placed your hand on his head and buried your fingers in his hair.

"Pedro," you murmured.

"Good morning, Sunshine," he said and placed another kiss on your soft belly.

"Hmm, I'm still asleep," you replied, but you already knew you'd have to get up.

Pedro was sometimes like an impatient puppy. You suspected that he had been awake for at least an hour and impatiently waiting for you to join him. Actually, it would be a lie to say that you weren't excited either.

Today was your birthday and it was going to be a wonderful day.

There was going to be a little party tonight, nothing too crazy. You just wanted to have dinner with some of the closest people you loved and who loved you just the way you are.

Pedro obviously wasn't going to wait until the evening with all the nice things he had prepared for you.

You felt him move up your body and start kissing your collarbones: " Hermosa," he moaned.

You laughed and kissed his cheek muttering, "It's okay, I'm up."

You opened your eyes to meet his warm brown gaze filled with nothing more than love for you. He grinned widely and pecked your nose saying, "I'm waiting in the kitchen!"

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. Sometimes you wondered where he got so much energy from. Maybe it was the amount of caffeine he drank.

When you got up, you noticed a path of rose petals and a pleasant warmth enveloped you. Pedro really set out to make your birthday special. You followed rose petals to the kitchen.

Pedro was standing at the table with a big smile on his face and fidgeting impatiently. As soon as you crossed the threshold he shouted "Happy birthday!"

He ran over to you and hugged you tightly.

You laughed at his behavior and smiled back at him. As he moved away from you, he led you to the table and pulled out a chair for you. He placed a plate of pancakes and sweet syrup in front of you. You raised your eyebrows in delight. You knew he must have put in a lot of effort in this and that he probably burned at least half of the pancakes, but it was still impressive. Soon a bowl of your favorite fruit, orange juice, and coffee were also on the table.

Pedro came behind you and kissed your head.

"Here," he said and set down a small box with a ribbon. "Open it."

You looked inside curiously and found a silver necklace with a pendant in the shape, of your favorite animal.

"Oh, Pedro... It's really too much."

"No," he replied quickly. "This is just the beginning. You are special and your birthday is supposed to be perfect."

You stroked his cheek and for a moment you just stared at his handsome face. Until finally he broke the silence: "Come on, eat. I thought after breakfast we'd watch a movie of your choice, and then maybe we'd lie down by the pool."

You nodded your head. "That sounds great, but remember we have guests tonight."

"Take it easy" he purred and stroked your hip. "I'll help you with everything."

As Pedro suggested, you sat comfortably on the couch after breakfast. You cuddled up to his side and together watched the movie you chose.

Later, he prepared snacks for both of you and you lay down by the pool. Pedro took the lotion and asked you to lie down on your stomach. He started rubbing the cream into your back and you closed your eyes and focused on the pleasure. His fingers perfectly located the points where you were tense. By the time he focused on your neck and shoulders, you were in heaven. You could spend all day like this, but you really wanted to see your friends.

You felt Pedro kiss you on the ear and purr, "What about are you thinking, honey?"

"I could spend eternity here," you replied.

"If you want, we can cancel everything."

"Oh no. I really want to see everyone and wear a new dress."

Pedro laughed and nodded. "Okay. We're doing whatever you want today."

You spent another hour by the pool, but it was finally time for you to start preparing dinner. Pedro, as promised, helped you with everything, and when you went to change, he started to prepare the table.

You took a quick shower, did your hair and makeup, and finally put on a new dress.

You looked in the mirror and lightly smoothed the fabric around your hips. You tilted your head slightly and bit your lip. You turned sideways and then heard his soft voice: "Sweetheart? Is something wrong?"

You lifted your head to look at Pedro, who was staring at you in awe.

"I don't know. Isn't that dress... Too short? Too small?"

He immediately shook his head and stood close to you, placing his hands on your waist. "You look stunning and... I'm mad?"

"What? For what?"

"Because you'll be torturing me with your looks all evening. Everything I will want will be to throw everyone out the door so I can have you all to myself!" He leaned in and started kissing your neck.

"Stop it" you squealed and slapped his chest.

"But, this is true" he groaned.

You smiled and cupped his face in your hands. "I love you, you know?"

"I know. I love you, cariño."

All your uneasiness vanished instantly as his brown eyes stared at you with such love and devotion. You were ready for a great evening.

Your friends have not let you down. They gave you wonderful, unique gifts and made the whole evening full of laughter.

Pedro was always close to you and gave you kisses at every possible opportunity.

When the last of your guests left, you started clearing the table, but then Pedro put his arms around you from behind and started to pull you away.

"Honey, what are you doing? I have to clean up."

"Uh, no, no..." he murmured. "It can wait until morning... Or a week... Whatever. All evening I thought I had to give you your last present."

You turned around in his arms and looked at him surprised. "What?"

"Me," he replied, and you started laughing. "You look so beautiful. Please, let me take you to the bedroom. If you make me, I will beg for it on my knees."

You snuggled into him and sighed. "You don't have to beg me..." You pulled away and grabbed his hand leading him toward the bedroom. "I really want to unwrap my last present."

Pedro started to laugh and you felt infinite happiness envelop you. It had been a great day, and apparently, the night was going to be just as amazing.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #fluff #he is so sweet #reward #gift

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quinloki · 15 days

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"I think that's a great fic idea" good news, it is, or something very similar. Inspiration is very clearly taken from @/turtletaubwrites series Numbers Game. The reader is a financial advisor who worked for Buggy, who then ends up under Croc and Mihawk because Buggy gets in trouble for ignoring her advice and fucking up the financials. Not trying to start anything, I don't think it's stealing to riff on smth but people should maybe be a bit more up front abt where they take inspiration from. At least give the OG a shout out lol

This is one of those things where there’s not an easy cut and dry answer I can give you or agree with, and I’m going to do my best to lay out why that is.

Is it possible the idea came from the person you’re referencing, but looking at the interactions for the first chapter I don’t see Alexa anywhere, not in the likes or comments.

I don’t even see anyone I follow in there either - which is to say that fandoms are HUGE and we don’t actually all know one another. (And that’s not to say there isn’t overlap in moots, just not with that particular story.)

Now, it’s possible there’s proof somewhere, but my point is that it is statistically just as possible that it’s just a similar idea. I wrote Quicksand’s reader as being a good office worker and coordinator - they weren’t specifically the accountant, but that could also be where the idea came from.

Reader being a competent and useful person makes sense when you’re talking about the Cross Guild. Neither Crocodile nor Mihawk are particularly patient people, and Buggy is enough frustration/comedic relief on his own.

If I shouted out to everyone who had inspired every part of what I write I’d hit tumblr’s post character limit before I got to the story itself. There’s a balance in there somewhere but it can honestly be case by case.

Despite your claim of not trying to start something it very much feels like you are, and while I appreciate you wanting to see credit given where it’s due, inspiration is so interwoven and complex, it’s hard to say exactly where an idea comes from for someone. So I’m going to assume that the vibes are unintentional - I’m sure you very much mean well. (If clarification is needed I’m not experiencing any negative emotions as I say this. I’m worried the vibes are there, but I will believe they were not meant.)

Heck, I had a story idea for a Eustass kid story I was (still am) excited about and when I shared it with my friends someone mentioned it was similar to something Mombat on Wattpad had wrote. And they’re right! The setup of the reader was similar - but I didn’t scrap the story idea because the story itself is going to be different.

And I know it is gonna be different, cause I had read that story by Mombat with my own eyes! And honestly it’s very likely where the inspiration sparked, even though I didn’t consciously make the connection until someone said something.

But there’s bound to be a lot of similar ideas in a singular fandom, because we’re all working with the same source material.

Now, I appreciate the intent, cause we all wanna look out for one another and such, but calling out possible sources of inspiration is maybe a bit much. Though I will say if there’s a dozen points of commonality, then it’s probably worth the mention.

here’s a bit of food for thought - Eustass Kid calling the reader Mouse is something I’m fairly well known for, and it wasn’t even my idea - and the friend I picked it up from had picked it up from someone else. Kaku calls reader Filly in most my one-shots but that’s from another friend. Penguin and Shachi calling reader lil’ Shoal was all my idea, but also I wouldn’t be surprised if someone else thought it up too.

Now, my long and exhausting reply aside, I do want to thank you for putting turtleaub on my radar. Her writing looks wonderful and I love how organized the blog and posts are. I am delighted to have something new to read even if my to read list is painfully long already. And there’s a possibility of making a new friend somewhere in there too \o/

#quin answers #anon asks #this got longer than I meant #and I’m behind on making breakfast xD #things are complex though #almost always #those knee jerk reactions can be rough #stay kind out there #the key phrase in your ask that made me nervous was #Very Clearly #it’s a strong assumption to come in with #and then say you’re not trying to start anything ^^;

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apocalypticavolition · 7 months

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Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 10: The Hunt Begins

This post probably has spoilers for the entire Wheel of Time series, so if that's not what you're into, don't keep reading.

This chapter starts us out with the Horn of Valere icon again, which... hell even if you shouldn't be reading this post because of the spoilers, you can probably piece together why a chapter called "The Hunt Begins" has it.

He kept his mouth shut, though. It was Lord Ingtar’s command; as friendly as he had been to Rand, he still would not appreciate a shepherd giving advice.

Rand demonstrating his keen leadership skills by being aware of the limitations of horses is both a good jibe at fantasy novels of the time (where horses needed less rest than the average car and had better range and mileage) and a nice way of contrasting how towards the end he won't be giving a fuck about anyone's limitations and push them all much harder than Ingtar is pushing these poor horses.

Rand tried to ride with Mat and Perrin, but when Rand let his horse drop back to them, Mat nudged Perrin, and Perrin reluctantly galloped to the head of the column with Mat.

I feel like this little bit of Mat being extra petty about this carries a lot of people's dislike of early Mat, because without the dagger he's actually not that bad even now.

Uno looked at Rand with his one eye, then shrugged and climbed into his saddle.

Uno isn't afraid to voice his opinion to his superiors 'cause he's a cool dude. He also is pretty convinced Rand is a lord too and thus could put Ingtar in his place - and probably has noticed the glances Rand's been giving the horses and is well aware that the boy agrees with him. I wonder how many of this ranging party specifically think that Ingtar being in charge is just the convenient fiction for this outlander lord who wants to pretend to be a shepherd. Like obviously Ingtar doesn't think that but Uno might...

“Do you like to run, Rand?” Loial laughed. “I do. I was the fastest in Stedding Shangtai. I outran a horse, once.”

That poor horse must have died of a heart attack shortly thereafter, what with the whole running at top speed and also having a huge thing like an Ogier keeping up with it.

It was not hard—there were few personal bundles among the supplies—but when he had it open, he let out a shout that brought every man in the camp erect with sword in hand.

Everyone of course just thinks Rand's bitching about the coats is him being pissy that Moiraine won't let him play at being a shepherd.

Also it's adorable how Moiraine thinks she's fulfilling prophecy with the heron-marked jackets.

I can always go naked, he thought bitterly.

*desperately presses random symbols on the nearest Portal Stone to find the nudist!Rand Mirror World*

“We didn’t bloody bring enough for you to be spilling it on the flaming ground.” The one-eyed man looked at Rand and left. Masema rubbed his ear, but his glare followed Rand.

So Masema's obviously pissy about this upstart foreigner Aiel-look-a-like putting on airs and terrifying everyone in the camp, but Uno's just doing whatever it takes to get a chance to challenge Rand to a friendly duel.

“I ask no questions, mind. If Lan Dai Shan and Moiraine Sedai want to say you are from Andor, from the Two Rivers, then you are. But Masema can’t get the look of the Aiel out of his head, and when he sees you. . . .”

It's really fascinating how Masema's perspective on Rand does such a huge 180. Bruh is an absolute fanatic about whatever his beliefs are, they just aren't necessarily logical evolutions from each other.

“I grew up with him, though you’d never know it now. You put this Aiel nonsense in his head on top of what’s already there, and the Light knows what we’ll have. An Aiel lord, maybe.”

Mat: Absolute savage and accidental prophet.

But they do let the Tuatha’an, the Traveling People, cross the Waste. And they don’t see Ogier as enemies, either, though I doubt any of us would want to go out into the Waste.

It's also a nice bit of realism that as soon as someone tries to simplify the Other as seeing the world purely in terms of themselves and their enemies, someone else can point out that no, it's not really that simple. It's not even really the case that the Aiel see the Wetlanders as enemies exactly, since they clearly could have engaged in warfare against them long ago and won.

When Rand finally settled down for the night, his head hummed with unwanted thoughts. Image of an Aielman. Moiraine Sedai wants to say you’re from the Two Rivers. Aiel ravaged all the way to Tar Valon. Born on the slopes of Dragonmount. The Dragon Reborn.

Bro can't even stay in denial anymore, though he does try a little. At this point it would literally take one more person calling him Aiel for him to snap though.

“Is this what a Darkfriend camp looks like? Smells a bit, but I can’t say it looks any different from anybody else’s.” He kicked at one of the ash heaps, knocking out a piece of burned bone, and stooped to pick it up. “What do Darkfriends eat? Doesn’t look like a sheep bone, or a cow.”

The one way in life that Mat isn't lucky is that if he can lose his dignity in literally any way, he absolutely will. It's where all his bad dice rolls go.

“We’ll waste no time burying Darkfriends,” Ingtar growled. “We ride south.” He suited his own words almost before they were out of his mouth.

Oftentimes, truly hateful vehemence comes from those who are closest to that which they despise. Just saying.

He reminded them of the charge the Amyrlin Seat had given them, to recover the Horn of Valere, and let nothing bar their way. He spoke of the glory they would have, their names remembered in story and history, in gleemen’s tales and bards’ songs, the men who found the Horn.

Ironically, we don't know the names of the whole party, so that didn't really work for them.

“I don’t like the smell of this place,” Perrin muttered as they came among the houses. Hurin gave him a look, and he stared back until Hurin dropped his eyes. “It smells wrong.”

Perrin the Yellow-Eyed Wolf Boy: Don't think we're the same, nose freak!

“Don’t frighten her!” Ingtar shouted. “Uno, we need information. The Light blind you, Uno, don’t frighten her!” The one-eyed man disappeared through the open door. Ingtar raised his voice again. “We will not harm you, good lady. We are Lord Agelmar’s oathmen, from Fal Dara. Do not be afraid! We will not harm you.”

I wonder if Lanfear really meant to be seen here to increase the sense of unease or if she was totally just going, "It won't hurt if I take a little peak at Lews through the window, these dumb third agers probably don't even know what up is, oh crap!"

“I fear the Darkfriends took them, Rand,” Loial said slowly. He grimaced, almost a snarl with his broad nose like a snout. “For the Trollocs.” Rand swallowed and wished he had not asked; it was never pleasant to think on how Trollocs fed.

Rand: They're okay right?

Loial: They. Were. Eaten. By. Demons. We're. Hunting. Demons. DEMONS!

He's so patient with the country boy.

“My Lord, you must see for yourself. The big stoneoak, fifty paces south from the landing. I cannot say the words. You must see it yourself.”

Jesus, it's like a Star Trek episode.

Mat waited until the last minute, when one of the Shienarans was untying the ferry, before he kicked his horse and crowded aboard. “I have to come sooner or later, don’t I?” he said, breathless, to no one in particular. “I have to find it.”

It's kind of a shame Mat didn't get any POVs in this book, because whatever the hell is going on in his head has to be a lot more interesting than the fandom gives him credit for. This is one of at least two big internal struggles we hear almost nothing about. Is he extra unhappy with Rand because he thinks that unlike him and Perrin, he's only benefiting from the adventure they're on? Does he think Rand's being selfish by being all, "Fuck you guys, I'm out" while Mat desperately wants out (he always does) but is forced to admit here that he has no future that doesn't pass through the Dagger?

“This is how we left home,” Perrin said suddenly. “At Taren Ferry. The ferrymen’s boots clunking on the deck, and the water gurgling around the ferry. This is how we left. It will be worse, this time.”

Likewise it sucks that we don't get any fun Perrin POVs just yet because he too is clearly going through all kinds of bullshit and Rand's even less aware of it than he is of Mat's stuff. "How can it be worse?" he asks, as if there's a Baerlon waiting for them only a week out. As if they have the world's most competent Aes Sedai/Warder duo at their side. As if Egwene is there, and Nynaeve to join soon, to help them think of home. As if all three boys aren't already changed permanently by what's happened but are nowhere near done with their transformations.

Rand's hilariously oblivious sometimes, you know? And so's Mat, since he agrees.

Then he recognized the two faces. Changu, and the other man who had been on guard with him. Nidao. Eyes staring, teeth bared in a rictus of pain. They had lived a long time after it began.

Poor bastards.

“Cut them down,” Ingtar said harshly. He hesitated a moment, then added, “Bury them. We cannot be sure they were Darkfriends. They could have been taken prisoner. They could have been. Let them know the last embrace of the mother, at least.”

Even Ingtar's had character growth this chapter! Is he already realizing that his extremism means he deserves the same ignominy and is softening himself in the hopes of mercy for himself? Is he genuinely uncertain as to Changu and Nidao's affiliation (perhaps they weren't in his sect of Darkfriends or even really were innocent) and thus erring on the side of kindness? Hard to say!

“Shienarans believe we all came from earth, and must return to earth. They never use coffins or shrouds, and the bodies are never clothed. The earth must hold the body. The last embrace of the mother, they call it. And there are never any words except ‘The Light shine on you, and the Creator shelter you. The last embrace of the mother welcome you home.’ ”

The Shienarans seem to have a very prototypical Earth Mother belief that will no doubt blossom into that very concept given enough time. It seems pretty early for that though; either Jordan thinks Earth Mother is very universal or he expected that there'd be some extra steps along the way (perhaps eventually the descendant organizations of Aes Sedai / Wise Ones etc. become the monopoly on the Singing?)

“Then who shot the arrow at—at the Amyrlin?” Rand swallowed. Who shot at me? Loial said nothing.

Lucky for Rand, Loial's not street smart enough to realize that his stuttering isn't a natural effect of the horrifying treatment of the corpses but because of a near slip. He's also not street smart enough to realize that Ingtar did the Dog Gate slaying, which further points to the innocence of these two poor bastards. But on the other hand I already said they were guilty so they're definitely burning in hell. Can't change my mind. Looks weak.

“They saved Lord Agelmar at Tarwin’s Gap,” he said. Several of the lancers nodded.

Ingtar's probably extra uncomfortable about this because his Darkfriend orders at the time were to get Agelmar killed or something.

Occasionally Rand saw what might have been a farmhouse in the distance, and once what he thought was a village, with smoke rising from chimneys a few miles off and something flashing white in the sun, but the land near them stayed empty of human life, long swathes of grass dotted with brush and occasional trees, with now and again a small thicket, never more than a hundred paces across.

Fascinating that the villages of Shienar, which presumably face all kinds of population problems what with the state of eternal warfare and all, manage to be denser and more prosperous than people living in this relatively decent grassland where there's no military pressures on them at all.

“It is not there any longer, Builder. When Hawkwing died, the ones who fought over his empire could not bear to leave a monument to a victory of his, even if it did not mention his name. There’s nothing left but the mound where it stood. In three or four days we can see that, at least.”

Maybe the bad juju of tearing down a perfectly good monument mixed with all the contaminating Trolloc blood led to them all dying out en masse, you know?

“I’ve seen an old map,” Rand replied in a tight voice. “I know about the nations that aren’t there anymore. Maredo, and Goaban, and Caralain. But there wasn’t any Hardan on it.”

Well that's very confusing, because all of those nations collapsed before Hardan. Must be a shit map.

Crops failed, or trade failed. People failed. Something failed in each case, and the nation dwindled.

I wonder if the Dark One's been able to affect the weather to some degree or another this whole time and only once the first seal broke was he able to pull out the "eternal winter over the whole land" gambit. It would explain just how badly humanity's been doing the past thousand years, with the long game finally paying off.

We are being swept away, humankind. Swept away like flotsam on a flood. How long until there is nothing left but the Borderlands? How long before we, too, go under, and there is nothing left but Trollocs and Myrddraal all the way to the Sea of Storms?

And so Ingtar explains why he fell to the Shadow - but even without all of the upheaval Rand brings, we've already got some clear rumblings that the game was going to change and that Ingtar's giving into despair was a personal failing. Elayne was being set up to be an Aes Sedai queen of Andor, ruling for hundreds of years and hopefully keeping the land unified. Pedron Niall wanted to restore Almoth to its former glory - under his hand, but still. The Seanchan invasion would have, without interruption, restored "civilization" to a good deal of the wilderness.

Also points to Ingtar for some realistic blind spots in another way: he assumes the Borderlands will be the last to fall even though the most recent national failing was Malkier.

There was no gate in the one opening he could see in the wall, but he supposed it could be blocked easily enough with a cart or wagon.

Honestly with population density and armed banditry being as rare as it is, blocking the gate may genuinely not be something these people feel they need to resort to.

Cairhien did claim this land, once the last King of Hardan died. All the way to the Erinin, they claimed it. They could not hold it, though. They gave up the claim nearly a hundred years ago.

Well if the Cairhieniens wanted it, and the former Hardani wanted it, what exactly was the issue? Were the tax collectors just unable to make it this far north consistently?

The table was set for a meal, ladder-back chairs gathered around, some plates already served. A few flies buzzed above bowls of turnips and peas, and more crawled on a cold roast sitting in its own congealed grease. There was a slice half carved from the roast, the fork still standing stuck in the meat and the carving knife lying partway in the platter as if dropped. Rand stepped inside. Blink.

Look I'm just gonna say it. The blinking and the flickering is some of the top tier Wheel stuff and people would have been infinitely more forgiving of the slog if it involved more of it. Even if the only thing flickering about Elayne's bath scene was that every time she blinked the fragrance of the soap she was using changed, people would have eaten that shit up and rated Crossroads of Twilight 7 out of 5 stars.

Rand could not move. The flies buzzing over the table sounded louder. His breath made a cloud in front of his mouth.

The flies are pretty strongly emphasized in this sequence, which make me wonder if they're connected to whatever weird magic Fain was using in this scene.

Also worth noting that originally this was supposed to be Lanfear's trap, but that this got changed. Frankly it's a damn shame she couldn't take time out of her stalker ex practices to quickly kill Fain before he became an actual kerfuffle.

Suddenly he was tearing at . . . something. He did not know what, or how. Cobwebs made of steel. Moonbeams carved from stone. They crumbled at his touch, but he knew he had not touched anything. They shriveled and melted with the heat that surged through him, heat like a forge fire, heat like the world burning, heat like—

Fain really breaks the magic systems, doesn't he? It's way less coherent than the established magical systems And yet Rand's use of saidin manages to take care of things.

Those black clothes, blacker than black, had never been worn by any human. The wind flapped an end of the cloak caught behind the body—which it did not always, he knew too well; the wind did not always touch those clothes—but there had never been any eyes in that pale, bloodless face.

I love how terrifying this early Fain stuff is, which really just makes it all the more frustrating that he completely loses all relevance as the series goes on. Book 7 Fain could never be this cool. Book 14 Fain couldn't even get into the same sentence as. These other Fains. What was Jordan planning on doing with him? Why did he lose the plot so thoroughly? Will we ever find something in his notes that makes it make sense?

We'll probably never know. Oh well. Next time: more hunting!

#let's read #wheel of time #wot #robert jordan #wheel of time spoilers #wot spoilers #rand al'thor #ingtar shinowa #hurin #mat cauthon #perrin aybara #uno nomesta #loial #masema dagar #lanfear #ragan

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uwusenpaiuwu · 3 years

Text

Sleepovers At The Baji Household feat. A Fed-Up Chifuyu

Summary: Chifuyu just wants to sleep, man, but Baji wants to be a jealous crackhead at 2 AM.

Pairing: Sano Manjiro | Mikey x Male Reader

Note(s): I had a little free time and wrote this. So, please enjoy! ALSO, to the anon that sent me a request a few days ago, I saw it and have it filed on my to-do list!!! I will definitely get to it as soon as I get a break in my schedule :)

"Chifuyu, ya wanna see some real discrimination?"

No. No, Chifuyu does not want to see what Baji means by 'real discrimination.'

Does he tell him that, though?

Yes, actually, because it's 2 in the fucking morning and, as much as he respects the other boy, he wouldn't put it past himself to smother him with a pillow after having his dream of cuddling with a sea of puppies suddenly destroyed.

Unfortunately for his sanity, Baji either doesn't hear him or, more likely than not, doesn't give a fuck, because he's already flopping onto his belly and whipping out his phone to do God knows what.

The dial tone that sounds from the speaker a few seconds later makes Chifuyu cringe, especially since it's only ever been a calm silence fit for a good night's sleep prior to Baji bulldozing through it with his absurd question. (At the very least, he's thankful that the latter has half a mind to keep the brightness on the lowest setting, otherwise, Chifuyu would have had to fight.)

On the far end of the row of carefully-laid futons, you shift in your sleep, eyebrows furrowing together at the noise. Rotating onto your side, you unconsciously reach for Baji, and just when he thinks you're being cute and trying to cuddle him, you smack him in the head.

Baji doesn't flinch, instead, takes his pillow and shoves it in your grasp to keep your unconscious self occupied, so that he can focus on getting through to the person who reuses to pick up (understandably so).

Releasing a frustrated groan after being redirected to voice mail for the fifth time, he dials the number again, muttering an impatient, "Pick up already."

Chifuyu feels sorry for the poor soul on the other end. He would've blocked someone following the first call, because again, it's-

The blond has to squint his eyes up at the digital clock on Baji's nightstand, which confirms that it's already 2:22 A.M, further solidifying the fact that he shouldn't be awake right now. And this also applies to the ever persistent first division captain, who insists on bothering who Chifuyu soon discovers is Mikey from the contact ID that flashes across the screen.

Why Baji is so keen on bothering him is a question he doesn't have the mental capacity to ponder over. The most energy he'll expend is to listen in when the call miraculously connects.

"What...?" comes a muffled voice from the receiver, tone laced in an irked grogginess birthed from a slumber rudely interrupted.

There's an absurdly loud, almost angry, roar of Mikey's name, one that has Chifuyu curling in on himself in a futile attempt to escape a sound that should be illegal at this hour.

But you know what else should be illegal?

The fucking whiplash Chifuyu gets when Baji's deep voice takes an abrupt 180°, switching from its normal gruffness to a squeaky, ear-piercing shrill as he screams, "I love you, love you, love you! Do you love me, too, Mikey-kyun~♡?!"

The room is dead silent.

Not a word. Not a murmur. Not a breath.

Just pure, unadulterated silence as both Chifuyu and Mikey process the words that hang in the air, permeating it with a goosebumps-inducing eeriness from having heard such a...a girly, overtly cutesy screech from Baji.

Then-

"What the fuck? He hung on me!"

Chifuyu opens his mouth, thinks better of reacting to the cursed scene he had the misfortune of bearing witness to, and promptly closes it.

Other people may have sleep paralysis demons.

But Chifuyu?

Chifuyu has Baji.

With both hands partially raised in prayer, he begs for the shenanigans to be over and done with.

They are not.

While his eyes remain closed in a last ditch effort to convince himself that it's all a bad dream, he hears a lot of grumbling happening on your side of the room, courtesy of Baji, who's scrambling around in search of...something. One quick peek reveals him fiddling with a phone - yours, to be exact, as evidenced by the distinctive phone charm of your favorite anime character hanging from it.

"(Y/n), wake up for a second," he hears him whisper. It takes a bit of prompting, until he's able to successfully rouse you enough from sleep to elicit any kind of response, which is, essentially, nothing short of an incoherent, slurred mess. Although, Chifuyu is pretty damn certain he heard you call Baji a 'dickhead' for the trouble.

Unperturbed, he continues shaking your limp form, coaxing you into wakefulness with, "Repeat what I tell you, and I'll let you go back to asleep. Deal?"

You squint your eyes at him, only able to make out a vague outline of his visage in the lightless room. "Promise?"

"Cross my heart, hope to die," he automatically responds with the same phrase he's become accustomed to saying whenever you two made a promise, something done purely out of habit, formed when the two of you were just kids and he wanted to get you to do something absolutely ridiculous either for him or with him. And just 'cause he knows you're more susceptible to complying if he does it, he also interlocks his pinky with yours.

"...Fine."

The approval is his cue to proceed, and it's as he's putting the phone on speaker that he turns back to a regretfully wide awake Chifuyu, mouthing a wordless, 'Watch.'

The phone rings, loud and clear, precisely once and only once.

"(Y/n), what's wrong?" It's important to note that even though Mikey still sounds tired as hell, his tone is much lighter, much happier really, than when it was Baji, which is an offense in itself to the said teen that's off to the side, attentively listening to the conversation unfold.

Then, it strikes Chifuyu, what Baji is trying to do, and fuck does it give him an instant headache.

Meanwhile, your mouth morphs into the dopiest of smiles with the pleasant surprise of hearing your boyfriend's voice, chest instantly overtaken by a warm fuzziness that never fails to make an appearance whenever he's involved. Sappy, you know, but it's true!

A light but firm nudge to your shoulder reminds you of your mission. It's too bad that, teetering along the edge of sleep as you are, the words Baji whispers are barely repeated correctly.

The initial phrase from before, the one Baji greeted Mikey with, is shortened to a simple, "You wuv I...?"

But, without missing a beat, you receive Mikey's confident reply of, "Mhm... I wuv you a lot."

There's a sleepy giggle then - a fucking giggle - before your voices drop to sweet whispers that the third and fourth wheels can't fully comprehend from where they are.

"Where the fuck was my 'I wuv you,' huh?!" Baji whisper-shouts, considerate of your conversation even when ranting and raving. "Shit, I would've taken a simple 'I love you,' too! I've known that bastard way longer than (Y/n), and this is what I get?!"

Okay. Toman's president answers his boyfriend's late night calls faster than he does anyone else's and openly expresses his love for him. So what? Chifuyu wouldn't exactly call it 'discrimination,' per se. 'Favoritism,' maybe if you wanna stretch it, but using as strong a word as discrimination, especially taking into account you two are dating; it's normal? Nah.

"You wanna say 'bye' to them? Mm. Baji and Chifuyu." A pause. "Fuyu, Mikey says 'bye.'"

"Bye, Mikey-kun."

The other person in the room waits, and waits, and waits, and when it's clear that there is no intention to address his presence whatsoever, Baji turns to Chifuyu with an almost scandalized expression, making wild gesticulations with his hands, clearly distressed. "See?!"

Blank blue eyes stare back at him, unblinking. Honestly, it's a common occurrence - Baji spiraling in a nonsensical rage - so it's easy for Chifuyu to block out the muted, jealousy-driven temper tantrum as he takes his pillow in both hands, raises it as high as he can, and-

Sigh.

-lets it flop right back onto his face.

He can't suffocate Baji. Shouldn't. Wouldn't. Couldn't. After all, they're best buds, meaning he has an obligation to put up with shit like this once in a while. (Plus, he'd probably get his ass kicked before he succeeds anyway. Totally not worth the beating.)

"Did you hear? Mikey said he wuvs me," he hears you drawl dreamily as soon as you hang up, sounding very close to clocking back out for the night.

"Yeah, yeah. Cute shit. Happy for ya, dude," Baji huffs. Thankfully, he sounds like he's in a similar state to yours, if the yawn that follows his sarcastic comment is anything to go by.

"...He soooo ignored you."

That warrants a punishing punch to the arm, dulled only slightly by the combination of the thick quilt you're swaddled in and the raven-haired boy's fatigue.

"I'll fucking throw you out right now, (Y/n). Don't test me."

"You won't."

"I will."

"Won't."

"Will."

The conversation gradually dies down shortly after, the exhaustion that took its sweet time getting to both of you having reached its peak with the help of the childish bickering. It takes 10 minutes, maybe 15, before two sets of light snores fill the room.

Finally.

Let it be known that there is a lesson to be learned from tonight's events. Really, there is. Y'know, something along the lines of 'Don't agree to a sleepover with Baji, if you plan on actually sleeping,' or whatever.

Alas, Chifuyu's consciousness fades before he realizes what it is.

~~~

"Mikey, be honest. Who do you love more? Me or-?"

"(Y/n)."

"But-"

(Y/n)."

"I-"

"(Y/n)."

Baji is only momentarily discouraged, sharp eyes glaring at the blond that lays his head on your lap after hi-fiving you. He didn't want to do this, but he's left with no choice.

"(Y/n) or Babu?"

From the way Mikey stiffens up, refusing to look at either him or you in the eyes, Baji knows he has him right where he wants him, has him torn between a cute face or a sweet ride.

"Oi! Don't pretend to be asleep! Answer the damn question! OI!"

(After hours of serious contemplation - even though you told him it doesn't particularly matter - it's revealed that, of course, Mikey loves you more. Babu just happens to trail behind as a very close second.)

#mikey x male reader #mikey x reader #sano manjiro x male reader #sano manjiro x reader #sano manjirou x male reader #sano manjirou x reader #sano manjiro #sano manjirou #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x reader #baji keisuke #chifuyu matsuno

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ahundredtimesover · 3 years

Text

Hold Me Close | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader, ex Namjoon x Reader (ft. brother Jimin)

Genre/Tags: brother’s best friends au; (dash of) angst, fluff (sort of), smut

Warnings: foul language, feelings of insecurity, minor accident caused by inebriation, getting drunk, sexual content (oral, unprotected sex but be safe please!), JK has a hip tattoo and at some point has grey hair (18+)

Word count: 22k

Summary: When Jimin hits a crisis, he enlists the help of his older sister - you - and his best friend, Jungkook, to put the pieces back again. That proves to be difficult when 1) Jimin’s a brat and a certified pain in the ass, and 2) Jungkook has grown and suddenly, you can’t keep your eyes off him.

A/N: I wanted to write something fun for a change and saw @ladyartemesia‘s brother’s best friend list and thought it would be a nice trope to explore because if there would be an ideal bratty younger brother, it would be Jimin. This was sooo much fun to write but also reminded me again of why I love my baby sister more than anyone in this world. Hope you all enjoy!

Three - the number of missed calls you probably now have just in the last 5 minutes, the vibrations piercing through your pocket and onto your thigh. It might be important, but so is keeping your attention on the department Director to your right, who is complimenting the man to your left, over a proposal that you spent weeks working on.

You force a smile because in front of your entire department isn’t really the time and place to refute and complain. It doesn’t help that Chul accepts the credit because anything to get ahead, right?

Just another reason why you dislike this job. Perhaps your boss telling you that you’re too emotional or too soft to be in this industry has gotten to you, but then again, there’s not a bone in you that’s ambitious and competition-craved, unlike your parents. But you try, at least. It’s the least you can do for something that’s expected of their eldest child.

The Director flips a page and turns to you. “Glad you could contribute to this, Ms. Park.”

He did assign it to you but you suppose your name just flew off his head, but you remind him anyway.

“Thank you for the opportunity to work on it, Mr. Yoon. I’m truly learning a lot,” you fake a smile and wish for this to end.

Soon enough it does and you bow towards the managers present, one of them giving you the compliment you needed to hear, and excuse yourself before another call comes in.

Best brother ever, the screen announces, and you curse yourself for still not changing his contact name and for having an easy-enough password to guess.

“I swear to god, Jimin, this better be an emergency,” you cuss to the person on the other end, already boiling at the thought of him possibly calling to ask how to fix a broken toilet or what kind of oil he’s supposed to buy for frying because he’d done both too many times for you to count.

“___!” The sound of a relieved huff is what greets you, the voice familiar.

“Jungkook?”

“Yeah, hi,” he says. “Uh, we’re at the hospital.”

Your eyes widen and you scold yourself for missing the calls, but then again, you wouldn’t have known because Jimin’s wolf cries precede this moment of an actual emergency.

“What? Why! Is my brother okay?” You cry out, hands already working on collecting your files and feet rushing towards your desk to pack up.

“Yeah,” Jungkook affirms. “He’s fine. He just—“

“I AM NOT FINE!” You hear your brother shriek in the background, sound a little soft due to distance but you don’t miss the farcical tone of his statement.

“Dude, it’s just a sprained ankle. You’ll live,” Jungkook tells him calmly, away from the phone.

You sigh in relief because Jungkook is definitely the person to believe in times like this.

“From 1 to Jimin, how dramatic is he?” You ask.

“Jimin. Times two.”

“Damn, okay. That actually seems worse than the injury itself huh?”

Jungkook laughs in agreement.

“I’m just packing. I’ll go to you guys right after.”

“Alright. General Hospital, emergency room. Just follow the tone of the weeping man-child.”

“I feel so empty. What am I gonna do with my life now!” You hear in the background.

You laugh at your brother’s antics because you’ve heard that exact line not long ago after his building owner told him again that he can’t have a pet in the apartment. But who knows with Jimin this time around?

“Got it. See you in a bit,” you say, then head out to hail a cab.

You arrive in the emergency room and follow the sound of the weeping man-child and true enough, you see your baby brother lying on the bed with his right leg nestled on pillows, ice taped on the swollen ankle.

You rush to his side and assess if there’s any other part that’s being treated. “What the hell happened to you?” You worriedly ask. “Is this because of work? God, Jimin. I told you that company overworks you! You don’t even get enough rest.”

Behind you, you could hear muffled laughter, and paired with your brother’s sheepish smile, you could already tell he got it over something silly. He’s avoiding your gaze, causing your worry to turn to frustration.

You cross your arms and you give him a stern look. “Park Jimin, look at me and tell me what happened.”

He plays with the hem of the blanket draped over him and with a sickly sweet smile, the one he uses on you to get himself out of trouble, he says, “I may have drank and perhaps had my foot stuck in a gutter and I may also have moved about when Jungkook told me to stay still and well…” Arms laid out before him as if in presentation, “here I am!”

He’s beaming, as if it’s something to be proud of. You know it’s his tactic but still, your brother’s ability to go from one reaction to another astounds you.

You turn to Jungkook for confirmation and he nods at the accuracy and absurdity of the situation, causing a worried feeling in the pit of your stomach because how the hell are you going to explain this to your parents?

“You forgot the part about you screaming that you hate men and you don’t want to love anymore,” Jungkook adds. It’s classic Jimin that it actually makes you laugh.

You, as his older sister and Jungkook, as his best friend of 15 years, should be used to this already but your brother is plucked from a classic romcom as the hot mess character and that carries with it amusement and predictability.

You're about to ask for an elaboration to put more context in the scene that’s playing in your head of a crying Jimin flailing his arms and a bemused but laughing Jungkook trying to shut him up, when the doctor comes in.

She checks the clipboard then on Jimin.

“Thankfully, there’s nothing broken,” she says, jotting down on a pad. She starts instructing how to properly wrap the ankle, prompting Jungkook to stand next to you and Jimin to nip at his fingernails because the brat won’t even pay attention to how to care for his own injured foot.

After handing you the prescription, the doctor tells Jimin, “We’ll just wrap you up with a cast and give you the crutches then you can head home.”

“So I’m not staying?” He asks.

“No need,” the doctor clarifies. “It’s just sprained but it will take several weeks to properly heal and it will be sore for a while,” she states, then calls a nurse and instructs him to prepare the supplies.

“You said you’re a dance instructor? The injury was aggravated by previous mild sprains so I require complete rest. You absolutely cannot move. Just stay in bed and follow the instructions I’ve written down.”

You and Jungkook release a sigh of relief, thankful that it’s nothing serious, the concern over what prompted his outburst temporarily at the back of your mind, until Jimin speaks up.

“But, something else feels broken.”

“What is it?” The doctor asks, suddenly worried and checks the board for anything she might’ve missed.

“My heart.”

“Yah!” You smack Jimin’s arm in embarrassment, which he returns with a smack on yours, a common sight for you both and Jungkook who’s bared witness to the violence you and your brother inflicted upon each other growing up.

The doctor rolls her eyes. “She’ll come back,” she says, then heads towards the door.

Jimin scrunches his nose in annoyance. “She’s a he, by the way!” He shouts, causing the others present to turn to him, as if such a situation is scandalous.

“Do… you have a boyfriend I don’t know about?” You nervously ask.

While your 3-year gap sibling relationship is rooted in violence that’s caused bruises, buckets of tears, timeouts, and your parents almost giving up on making you two get along at many points of your lives, you and Jimin have somehow grown up and have found the right balance of telling each other important things while also staying out of each other’s business.

The “growing up” only happened midway through his college life, when he realized that even with his best friend next to him, you were still his lifeline in the big city of Seoul and the only other reminder of home.

Because even with him knowing what it takes to make it in the competitive entertainment industry as a choreographer, in his heart, he’s still the younger child who’s used to being taken care of. That meant regularly demanding your presence in his dorm when he was still studying and then crashing your place when he’d started working. For food, mostly. The ranting about things just came naturally after.

“It’s Tae,” he shyly reveals, meeting your eyes for the first time and suddenly, he’s your little brother again, the one whose snacks you used to prepare or whose wounds you used to treat when your parents weren’t home or were too tired from work.

“Your roommate?”

“Yeah. He left today because he got this photography gig where he gets to travel the world.”

“I didn’t know you had a thing,” you say.

“We didn’t,” he huffs out in frustration. “I didn’t know I liked him until he said he booked a one-way ticket and didn’t know when he'd be coming back. And he was so excited and I was really happy for him but also felt like it was too late. Like should I have said anything? What if he felt the same way? Would he have stayed?” He sighs, looking sullen this time.

“He may have, or he would still be taking the trip. Regardless, no one should be giving up on dreams for anybody, Chim. That’s not how it’s supposed to work,” you say, not meaning to sound as if you’re reprimanding him, but the look he gives is enough to tell you that he understands. He’s heard variations of that same sentiment before, anyway.

Jungkook feels the tension in the air and breaks it by stating that he’ll be driving everybody home.

“I’ll be staying with my sister,” Jimin announces, his annoying smile now back, and he knows you can’t say no; by obligation or by choice, you won’t tell.

“There goes my weekend,” you gripe.

“I won’t be a nuisance, I promise,” he says then crosses his heart, like it actually means anything.

“You’re a nuisance even when you’re not injured, what more now?”

“I’m not that bad,” he defends.

“Oh, but you are.” You turn to Jungkook. “You know, I actually tried to push him back in our mom’s vagina but even her uterus didn’t want him anymore.”

“Ouch okay, I will pretend I didn’t hear that,” and you all laugh as Jimin is transferred to the wheel chair and pushed by the nurse, signaling Jungkook to go ahead and retrieve his car.

You arrive at your apartment with a Jimin-clad Jungkook in tow, the worry of not having cleaned up quickly dissipating because this is your brother, and he shouldn’t complain.

Jungkook assists Jimin in the bathroom while you set up your bed by piling up pillows for his foot.

“I don’t have clean sheets for the sofa bed in the other room,” you say, “and it’s not cleaned up, as I didn’t expect to house an injured child this weekend. Just sleep on my bed first.”

Jungkook guides Jimin to your bed and helps him settle in, with your brother looking all smug with the treatment he’s getting because he knows you don’t give up your bed that easily.

“What about you?” Jungkook asks, seemingly more worried about your inconvenience than the actual cause of it.

“I’m fine with the couch. Wouldn’t wanna sleep here with him and accidentally hit his foot. He might murder me or something.”

“Thanks, Sis. I’m very comfortable here. I think I’ll be sleeping well tonight,” Jimin states, then yawns, drowsiness kicking in from the medication.

You roll your eyes and close the door. You lead Jungkook to your kitchen and offer him a drink.

“I’m sorry for him, Kook. Did he drag you out of work?” You ask.

“Just had to call the tattoo parlor and reschedule my Friday appointments,” he says, downing the glass of water. “He was pretty emotional over the phone and wanted to drink at 4PM and well, you know the rest.”

“Ugh, such a pain in the ass,” you mutter, massaging your temples. “But was he serious about the whole Tae thing?”

“Seemed like it. I think it just took an abrupt change for him to realize what he felt,” he explains. “But you know him - falls fast, moves on faster. He’ll be okay. You’re here,” he continues, flashing you his bunny smile, the one that used to cause you to pinch his puffy cheeks out of cuteness.

But that’s when he was a lanky 10-year old with his awkward front bangs. The man in front of you now sports long dark locks and a sharp jawline, tattooed arms and probably a built figure, if the way he carried your brother as if he’s a feather is any indication of his strength. His bambi eyes, usually scrunched large nose, and child-like smile are the only things that remain from that memory of him.

“You know I can’t stand my brother for long periods of time, Kook,” you pout, earning you an amused laugh.

“He actually already invited me over the weekend, asked me to bring my PS4 so we could play.”

“That bitch has to rest, what is he talking about?”

“Same thing I told him. I’ll just make up some reason that my player caught fire or that I dropped it while running or something.”

You give him a straight face. “The hell would he buy that? You can just not bring it.”

“I’m just gonna match his drama,” Jungkook shrugs, earning him your laugh, which for him is all tones of sweet and soothing.

A smile forms on his face at the thought of making you laugh like this, something he secretly enjoys. This particular sound would most likely be etched in his mind, among the several others that he caused.

There was that time when you caught him doing chubby bunny as a consequence and seeing him stuffed with marshmallows made you secretly giggle because 15-year old you didn’t want to indulge in their silly antics; Jungkook heard it though.

There was that other time during Jimin’s 14th birthday at an arcade, Jungkook went over the basketball game’s railing to get the highest score and you alternated between scolding him and laughing your butt off. He snuck the tickets he won in your pile though so you would have enough to get the Tinkerbell tea set because he knew your obsession with fairies.

When you visited home for their high school graduation, you all cooked dinner and he overdid the glazed sweet potatoes, causing them to get stuck on the plate. You tried to hold your laugh but gave up once he started dancing; he was so embarrassed but that’s when he knew he’d willingly make a fool of himself to hear you laugh like that.

And 3 years ago, your large group of friends went on a ski trip. He was attempting to run up the slope but kept sliding, and even from a distance, he could pick out which laughter was yours; it was probably the only remedy to an otherwise heartbreaking weekend, considering that you were there with your then-boyfriend, Namjoon.

Reminiscing those causes his heart to feel like floating, like always, then the words “nobody dates my sister” pulls that heart down to crash into reality, like always, too, the reality being that you’re his best friend’s older sibling.

You’ve been off-limits since Jimin threatened Jungkook and their other friends about cutting off their dicks if anybody tried to date you when they were 16, but you were probably off-limits even before that. Jungkook mentally shakes his head.

He doesn’t like being told what to do but then again, Jimin is his best friend, the tiny feisty 10-year old who fought off the bullies who tried to take Jungkook’s snacks. It had been them against the world since then, and so far, the only person he thinks who’d ever come between them is you.

Jungkook is pulled out of his thoughts at your call of his name, prompting you to repeat what you just said.

“I said, thanks again for being there for my brother like, ever since. If it was just me I would’ve disowned him a long time ago.”

Jungkook giggles, already used to the drama that is your sibling relationship. He’d witnessed too many wrestling matches, scream fests, and pulled pranks in the last 15 years. While you’ve both gone past those, your complaints about each other is something you haven’t really outgrown yet.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t disown him,” Jungkook chuckles, the words ‘he’s the only link I have to you’ quickly dissipating in his mind.

“You know he just craves your attention and riling you up is the way he does it, younger sibling and all. I would’ve done that if my brother wasn’t 7 years older. Jimin tends to be immature around you but he’s the best person I know. I wouldn’t have survived anything if it weren’t for him.”

This brings a smile to your face, their origin story warming your heart more than you care to admit. Your brother is fierce and a fighter, you’d give him that.

“Well, he’s just as lucky to have you, Kook.”

It’s the tenderness in your voice that makes him feel like he’d just won a prize, and he wishes you don’t notice the flush of his cheeks. If you do, you don’t mention it, because not long after, you say that you’ll wash up, signaling him that it’s time to go.

Jungkook drives home that night feeling like his pre-adolescent self, the giddy feeling of when you first pinched his cheeks the same one he feels right now. It’s when he first developed his crush on you - you’d been arguing with Jimin and said you wished he was as behaved and as adorable as Jungkook, prompting your brother to point out Jungkook’s large nose, which you responded with by saying it adds to his charm.

Petty fights, like always, but it’s when you told him to not listen to what other people say if they’re out to put him down did Jungkook realize that you and Jimin were cut from the same cloth.

Soon after, every little moment with you, every glimpse of your life outside of being his best friend’s sister became more and more enthralling to him. The fact that you were getting prettier each year just served to solidify his affection for you. And also made it difficult to hide his hard-on every time you’d show up for breakfast in your cloth shorts when he’d sleep over your parents’ house, or when he’d see you in your pretty outfits in the bars you all frequented once he was in Seoul for college.

He’d let himself think of you during the times he wasn’t in a relationship, and he’d slowly let go of the bit of hope he’d have every time you were in one, partly because your relationships were usually long-term, compared to his, and also because your ex-boyfriends were nothing like him, which is safe to say that he wasn’t your type.

Maybe it was the age, the level of maturity, maybe it was the sense of security, maybe he’s just not the kind of guy who could give you what you want, although honestly he doesn’t know exactly what that is.

But if Namjoon - your intelligent, upstanding, businessman ex-boyfriend who was also really handsome and kind - and your subsequent heartbreak are anything to go by, then Jungkook is clearly reaching for the stars with you. Not that you’re out of his league, but he’s more like in the outskirts, just lying in the edges, the border between what’s possible and what isn’t, but definitely far from the center of action. Even tonight, the most time you’d spent together in years that wasn’t in a party, was because Jimin had been hurt.

If anything, though, his long standing admiration for you hadn’t really gone away. And he doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

The weekend with Jimin staying with you wasn’t that unbearable, primarily because he was rendered immobile on your bed and was usually sleepy. You were thankful that Jungkook dropped by to keep your brother company while you caught up on errands and chores.

With another work week coming filled with meetings and events, you had Jimin stay with Jungkook first. He insisted it wasn’t a bother; his work as a freelance artist and a part-time tattooist gives him control of his time.

It’s the weekend after the incident when you hear a knock on the door, not expecting to see Jimin with his casted ankle and crunches; behind him are 3 large luggages and a few boxes.

You’re just about to process the sight before you when he says, “I got sacked from the company when I said I couldn’t get back to work next week. And I can’t afford to pay rent anymore, even if I get a roommate and I…” he turns to you, almost shameful, “I have nowhere else to go.”

You sigh because really, your relationship with your brother is hinged on fights you don’t really mean, pettiness that drives you crazy, and an unconditional love that you both deny but undeniably share. So you open the door wider and laugh at his “you’re the best sister in the world” claim and your usual response of “you only have one.”

Jungkook arrives with the last box and you help bring in all the stuff that seems never-ending, making you wonder how these fit in his car and how he managed to bring everything, including your brother.

“Park Jimin, you have so much stuff! You might as well have hired a mover,” you cry out.

“Oh I did,” Jimin answers, pointing to Jungkook.

You cock an eyebrow because obviously, movers get paid.

“I told him you said you’re gonna make us dinner.”

“Except I didn’t,” you scrunch your eyebrows and turn to Jungkook, amused at his sudden change of expression, bambi eyes widening at his innocence.

“I swear, he seemed so convincing,” Jungkook claims, hands held up as if in surrender. He bites his lips and looks at the ground. “I can just go, really. I’ll just force him to treat me to lunch when he’s healed and I can wrestle him if he doesn’t.”

“Don’t be silly, Kook. Stay for dinner,” you crack a smile. You walk to your kitchen and take out the pork belly to thaw. “I won’t make you steak though. That’s reserved for my wine nights when I want to bask in my singleness,” you call out.

“Also,” you turn to Jimin, “you don’t deserve my steak.”

Your brother laughs, knowing that it’s your way to mask the kindness you’re showing.

Later that night, with dinner out of the way and your spare bedroom set up for Jimin to stay, you guide him to the sofa bed and make sure his foot is elevated, bell just within his reach that you instructed him to ring when he needs you.

“Thanks, ___. You—”

“Are the best sister in the world, I know,” you cut him off.

“I was gonna say you should get some rest and to not worry about me. I’ll be fine,” he smiles.

You nod and head out the room, the worried look on your face not going unnoticed by Jungkook, who’d just finished wiping the dishes.

“Everything okay, ___?”

You heave out a sigh.

“What the fuck am I gonna do with him, Kook?” You ask, the reality of your injured and now unemployed brother dawning on you. “What am I gonna tell my parents?”

Oddly enough, it’s when you and Jimin were finally adults did your parents think to check up on you both. Perhaps living under the same roof didn’t warrant that, but with both children now living independently hundreds of miles away from them, they’ve ensured to call every week. Your conversations mostly revolve around Jimin, though, the words “take care of your brother” not having an expiration date, apparently.

You know the weight of the words - it’s not just because you’re older but because by your parents’ standards, you’re also the more stable and financially secure one by nature of your 9-5 corporate job in a fancy building that requires you to wear corporate attires, in contrast to Jimin’s late-nights in a dance studio busting moves in sweats.

Your parents are partial to your kind of work, given that they’ve spent more than half their lives in the same field and always wished you’d both do the same, even if you promised yourself you wouldn’t give in to the world that took so much of your parents’ time from you.

Much as you want to believe you’re just doing your job as the older child by entering the industry, you were too much of a people-pleaser who just wanted to make her parents proud.

Jimin, on the other hand, was smart enough to only apply to the performing arts programs of prestigious universities in Seoul and was good enough to actually land a scholarship in the same school as you; your parents were backed in a corner and couldn’t do anything.

You’d never tell Jimin but you always admired him for that; it takes a lot to stand up to your parents without actually standing up to them. You’re just glad that between the both of you, someone was brave enough to go for what they genuinely wanted.

“Tell them the truth?” Jungkook shrugs. “I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“You act like you don’t know what my parents are like.”

True, Jungkook thinks, but he also knows things have improved on their end. “Well, if anything, they’re more receptive now. They would congratulate Jimin on the choreographies they’d see those idol groups dance. They ask him about work, too.”

You smile at the thought, something your brother never mentioned, but you can imagine how happy that might’ve made him. Jimin, as you’ve found out, is a sweetheart to his friends - affectionate in all ways and very expressive - something he isn’t to you and your parents. The same can be said about you, and you soften at the thought that you and Jimin really aren’t that much different from each other.

Jungkook picks up on the thoughts going through your head. “He probably didn’t tell you because you know him, he’d go all soft if he does, and Jimin has this persona when it comes to you. And it isn’t the soft one.”

“Goes both ways, I guess.”

“It’s not the end of the world, and he doesn’t seem to think so. He’s going to be fine.”

Jimin, in all sense of the word, is not fine. It took a few days until he cracked. He went from being an obedient patient who followed the doctor’s order of staying in bed, to one who constantly walked around and complained that he had nothing to do.

Going on dating apps makes him sad, looking at job openings makes him sad, not being able to move and dance makes him sad. And your heart breaks for him, knowing what it’s like to lose your sense of direction and motivation at the loss of something or someone important. You allow him to let out his frustrations, though, listen to him when he rants, feed him his favorite food, and call Jungkook over with his PS4 that isn’t actually broken.

In fact, calling Jungkook has been your go-to, especially when you’re running out of things to say to comfort Jimin. Most times it’s really just so they could play PS4 together, prompting Jungkook to leave it at your place so Jimin could stay preoccupied and not feel too down when the job lists come up empty. He tires easily though, and it’s after he’s been tucked in bed that you usually settle for a cup of tea in the kitchen, Jungkook now the one listening to you talk.

It usually starts with the topic of Jimin, followed by some memory from your childhood that you and Jungkook get hysterical over, followed by a story about your work, and then a story about his. His stories are more interesting though. He shows you the paintings and digital pieces he makes for clients, and tells you amusing bits about his tattooing gig like amusing patterns and memorable customers.

Hearing all this sends warmth through you because of how much he’s grown. While you’re only 3 years older, you met Jungkook when he was a shy 10 year-old, a complete opposite to you and Jimin’s naturally sociable selves. He went from smiling sheepishly to joking around and giving you high-fives in the 5 years before you went to Seoul to study.

Of course he’s grown when he followed your brother to the same university, having seen him with different girls, going to the same parties because your friends had taken a liking to him, and attending his art exhibitions. He went from greeting you under his breath to calling out to you at a bar while he’s surrounded by his peers.

This was the kid who used to follow your brother around - even joined the dance club in high school - and would dunk his head in water if you asked him to, but now he’s forged his own path, doing what he loves, and enjoying every bit of his time that he controls.

Personally, you’re also just happy that he can be available for your brother and for you, too, seeing that the nights you used to spend forcing yourself to sleep are now spent in good conversation with him.

He’s also gotten way more attractive in the past few years, something you’ve only noticed now. Perhaps it has much to do with the physical closeness when you talk - your kitchen bar isn’t that long, anyway - where you’re able to pay more attention to his defined jawline, his dark eyes that anybody could get lost in, the curve of his nose, and the perfectly-placed beauty marks on his face. Come to think of it, maybe Jungkook has always been handsome, but you stop your thoughts before they go anywhere restricted.

It’s one Saturday night when you arrive home, after having drinks with your friends, to a very drunk Jimin and a tipsy Jungkook, gorging on fried chicken. Just thinking of cleaning up is already giving you a headache, which is aggravated by your brother’s drunk singing of classic yet cringey sad love songs.

“Yah! Look at the mess you’ve made,” you smack Jimin’s arm, pointing to the chicken crumbs on the floor. “And alcohol, seriously? You can barely walk properly and now you’re drinking?”

“I’m injured, unemployed, homeless, and heartbroken. Leave me alone,” is all he says, then proceeds to belt out an insanely high note that pierces your ears and which causes Jungkook to laugh, used to this already and may have been enduring this the past hour or so.

“He’s been like this for the past 4 hours,” Jungkook says.

“And you let him?”

At the final high note, Jimin passes out on the couch, body limp over the empty space to his left.

“He wanted to drink his frustrations away, thought it might help,” Jungkook responds.

You sigh in annoyance but think he’s right, too. Jimin was out drinking his frustrations the night he got injured but at least now he’s doing it in the safety of your home.

“I guess,” you shrug. “Can you take him to his room before he severs his neck?”

Jungkook laughs but follows. He carries Jimin over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and you pretend to not look hot and bothered at how easily he could carry your dead-weight brother.

You follow to the room shortly and place an aspirin and orange juice on the side table, knowing it’s Jimin’s hangover drink. You remove the strands of hair that have stuck to his forehead and tuck him under the covers.

Jungkook looks at you fondly; for someone who always claims you should’ve disowned her brother, you sure have a very affectionate way of showing it.

You step out of the room and take in Jungkook’s tipsy state, red cheeks and glassy eyes giving him away.

“You should stay,” you tell him. “You drank and I doubt you’d sober up anytime soon, but try anyway.”

He nervously accepts but not for the reasons you think. He’s nervous because aside from those sleepovers at your house when you were younger, this is the first time he’s sleeping under the same roof as you, and that makes him giddy but anxious at the same time. He hopes you don’t catch him mid-dream saying your name; that would be too awkward to explain.

He goes back to the living room post-shower, a blanket and large pillow on the couch and you, tucked in the corner with a glass of juice.

“Did you want to sleep already? I can go to my room if you are.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m not that sleepy yet, you can stay.”

He refuses your offer of a drink. Unsure of the appropriate distance from you now that there’s space to go around, he settles on the other end of the couch. You smile at him as he sinks on the corner and he smiles back as you take baby sips from the glass. You both settle in comfortable silence, appreciating the quiet as a reprieve from the mind-numbing noise from earlier.

You take a big gulp and he couldn’t hold the chuckle at your wide eyes hidden behind the glass.

“So I’m guessing your hangover drink is apple juice?” He asks, not missing the similarity with your brother.

“Yeah. Jimin hates it so I’m sure he’ll never take it. He used to finish all the orange juice at home and I was mad because I wanted orange juice, too,” you say with a pout. Jungkook’s heart skips a beat at how adorable you look and goes for an ah, that’s why face because he remembers you fighting Jimin over it before.

“So you just switched to apple juice?”

“Yeah, pretty much. It’s really good. I thought he’d switch too just to annoy me but he said he really doesn’t like it.”

“Look at you two, being all civilized for once,” Jungkook teases. You throw a pillow at him and laugh at his comment, but you don’t disagree.

“Yah! We’ve always been civilized, okay?”

“Now that is a lie. May I remind you of the time you two wrestled in front of me over a piece of pop tart. How you tackled him to the ground and he pulled your hair and the innocent treat was crushed in the process.”

“Hey, I was 15 and I called dibs on the strawberry!”

“Or that time you both wanted to watch different movies and had me choose and I felt like I was signing a death sentence either way? But it didn’t matter because you still got into a pillow fight?”

“His choices were always so boring!”

“Or that time when…” You throw him another pillow.

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. We weren’t always civilized,” you give up, laughing so hard with him at the memories. “You witnessed the worst parts of us, huh?”

“I didn’t really have a choice, did I?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow.

“Well, you were the only one who stayed. The rest of your friends would run out once Jimin and I started going at it.”

He laughs at this because if only you knew why he always stayed. He actually liked that you’d let him referee you two, he felt wanted.

“Hmm, it takes a lot to handle the Park siblings, I don’t blame them.”

“Wow, Jeon Jungkook. Calling out your elder. Where is this bravery coming from?” You tease.

“I drank, remember?”

“Not much though.”

He shrugs. He doesn’t know, too, but he likes seeing you look flustered. “Enough liquid courage, I guess.”

You deem his answer satisfactory but it does make you recall all those petty fights growing up.

“Sorry you had to witness all that,” you say, giving him a shy smile. “Our personalities were always just clashing and it was harder not to fight each other.”

“I think you two are just so similar, that’s why.”

You look at Jungkook, eyes wide at the statement you’d only ever thought to yourself.

“He thinks the world of you, you know?” He continues, sensing your now serious demeanor. “He used to tell the mean older kids that you’re his sister and you’ll fight them if they hurt him because he just knows you’d protect him no matter what.”

You laugh and roll your eyes but Jungkook knows you agree.

“For schoolwork, he would always write about you as his role model or the person he looks up to.” Jungkook doesn’t miss how your eyes soften at this. “He never found out that I knew but I’ve read parts, how he wanted to be strong and kind like you, to be independent and smart and hardworking like you.”

Maybe it’s the remnants of alcohol, or this apple juice is just fucking delicious but you’re getting emotional.

“And honestly, I don’t think that’s changed. He’ll always look up to you, whether he’ll say it or not.”

And there goes the water works, causing panic in Jungkook and he immediately goes to you. Noticing your non-movement, he uses the edges of his hoodie to wipe the tears that have begun flowing from your eyes. He stills for a moment but seeing how you haven’t pushed him away, he continues.

You look up at him with watery eyes and quivering lips. Somehow you should be embarrassed but something about Jungkook having seen the worst of you and being nothing but a huge help these past few weeks, you feel safe. No judgment whatsoever, just an air of understanding and care.

“Why are you telling me this?” You ask, and Jungkook feels weak at how you look. He didn’t mean to make you sad but all he wants to do now is hug you until you feel better.

“Because you’ve been so worried and so hard on yourself, as if it’s only your burden to carry.”

You try to object but he cuts you. “Jimin’s an adult. He’s crying and drinking and sulking but that’s normal. He’ll be fine and get himself together. I know that. Even he knows that. You know why? Because it’s what he’s seen you do.” Jungkook wipes another stray tear.

“Whether it’s a breakup or a work thing, he’s seen you take hits but never back down, never let anybody walk all over you, never let them take away the best parts of you. He’s struggled before, too, but he always got back up.”

“He’s good and strong that way,” you reply softly.

“Like I said, he has a good role model,” he smiles, nudging your shoulder.

It’s meant to be playful but it’s comforting for you, and you’re leaning on his shoulder before you know it, ignoring the way he briefly stills at your action.

“You’re a good person, Kook. We’re lucky to have you.”

You’re so close to him and he can feel the heat radiate from you. It’s too quiet that he’s afraid you’d hear the thrumming of his heart, from your words and the affection behind your still head on his shoulder. The situation calls for it, he thinks, so he lays his hand on your back and rubs circles on it.

He’ll chalk it up to liquid courage again if you ask, but you don’t. Instead you snuggle closer, chasing his warmth. He swears he could pass out with just this, but he tortures himself more by holding you even closer and he swears, even with his thick hoodie, he could feel your smile.

Over a month since the gutter incident - as you like to call it - you, Jimin, and Jungkook have found a pattern of cohabitation, and yes, that includes Jungkook, seeing as how he’s become a staple in your household and your life.

At some point, Jimin had sulked less and would spend his time watching dance videos to remind himself of the feeling, even if it was just virtual. He’d even expanded his choice of employment by checking job openings as a fitness instructor and a ballet teacher for children.

He’d also done his regular foot exercise once the pain became bearable. Still unemployed and heartbroken though, he’s been shameless in making your place his own home, with most of his belongings now removed from their boxes, and inviting Jungkook over any time, any day. Not that you minded though, since he’s been nothing but a literal angel.

Living in a studio on his own, Jungkook usually has ramen or street food as dinner, which is why Jimin used to invite him over his shared apartment with Taehyung so that Jungkook could at least have home cooked meals every once in a while.

It’s why he’s often over your place on weeknights he doesn’t have a shift at the tattoo parlor. That and because Jimin still wants him over to play video games. Jungkook brings food over or pays for delivery though, and you welcome the initiative.

On weekends, you’re all busy doing your own thing in the living room together, which carries over to movie nights. The young ones pass up on their friends’ invites to a party while you, well, your friends would rather spend their weeknights with their partners instead. So your night of basking in your singleness now means doing so with your brat of a brother and his dependable best friend.

It’s a Saturday afternoon when you get home from doing errands and you find both men in your living room, with Jimin reading a book on some dancer’s biography and Jungkook busy on his laptop. Your brother’s face pops on the screen and you decide it’s not a personal matter so you plop next to Jungkook on the floor and softly rest your chin on his shoulder, something you’ve maybe done once or twice before.

“What you up to?” You ask, an impressed look on your face at the snippets of Jimin dancing, some of which you’ve never seen before.

“I’m working on his application video,” he says, pointing to your brother. “Since he’s not able to dance when he tries for jobs, he thinks sending them a video to show his skills will help.”

“Oh, like a visual CV of some sort?”

“Yes!” Jimin states. “Want them to know what they’re missing out on, and that’s a lot.”

You roll your eyes but mentally agree; your brother is the most talented person you know.

“Kookie’s been kind enough to work on it for me although he’s been on it for hours,” he continues, a playful smile on his face.

“Give him a break, Chim. He’s done so much for you already,” you say, getting your own laptop and setting it up on the table.

“Nah, it’s the least I can do. He’s helped me so much, ___.”

“He fought off your bullies 15 years ago…” You cock an eyebrow.

Jungkook chuckles. “Yes. And more. Helped me with school work, my confidence, my social skills…”

“Gave him tips to woo girls because he was too shy to ask them on dates,” Jimin adds.

“Hmm,” you mumble. “What you gotta be shy for? Just flash them your smile or show them your toned arms, they’ll probably jump on you right there,” you say nonchalantly, unaware of the way Jungkook’s heart stills at your comment.

“He doesn’t want them to jump on him, ___. He wants them to actually like him, or love, whatever. He’s a romantic, you know,” Jimin teases. “Would travel to the ends of the earth or fight to the death for the woman he loves, whoever she is,” he says matter-of-factly, unaware of the way Jungkook’s breath hitches because if Jimin only knew.

“Aww, Kook. That’s cute,” is all you say, smile genuine though, he wishes he could see it everyday. But cute, really? That’s it?

He chooses not to dwell on it and instead asks you what you’re up to, to which you respond that it’s a presentation you have to work on. You’re frustrated at your lack of design eye and it looks so bare; you want it to look professional but still eye-catching.

“Maybe I can help!” Jungkook states.

But of course, you think. You’ve been accommodating an actual graphic designer in your home, surely it’s fair that he help you out, right?

“Yes please, Kook. I need to blow these people away with my smarts and my non-existent creativity,” you laugh.

Jungkook sets aside his laptop, adoringly quick to prioritize helping you, and works on your presentation. He knows just the right color and font combo, even helping out on which details to include, what visuals to add, and how to make it exactly how you want.

You’re amused at how easily he works on it. He's meticulous, working on the size of the texts and the angles of the patterns. Jimin chides him for his perfectionism but unbeknownst to both of you, Jungkook’s laser focus is a means of distraction with how physically close you’ve been to him the past hour, eyes flicking from him to the screen.

He wants this to last but also can’t wait for it to be over because of how nervous he is, especially with your constant praises for something really basic, but which he finds so charming all the same.

Pretty soon he finishes and returns your laptop to you and retrieves his, quick to get back to work and focus on something else, which still proves futile once you remove your sweater to reveal a camisole underneath, and tie your hair on a high bun, thus exposing more of your shoulders and neck.

He shakes off the tingles he feels, pretends to be completely unbothered by his attraction towards you that seems to intensify day-by-day. He looks forward to seeing you, and when he doesn’t, he yearns to. He’d been used to admiring you from afar but these past weeks showed that he has all the reasons to admire you even up close.

You’re just as brilliant, feisty, and funny; sassy too like Jimin but in a captivating way, yet so kind-hearted just the same.

The three of you settle in a comfortable silence, each busy with your own task at hand. With your knees touching Jungkook’s, your questions on any additions you make on the presentation, and him asking for your approval on the video (which he seeks, oddly enough from you and not from Jimin), your eventual quick agreement on dinner and your teamwork in preparing it, it all feels so familiar, like it’s home.

The next evening, you find yourself sandwiched between Jungkook to your right and Jimin to your left, who moved from his center seat to lie down, with half of his tiny body settled comfortably on top of you and Jungkook. Your brother insisted on watching “How to Be Single” tonight, like a slap to all your faces.

It’s during one of the scenes with the protagonist’s ex when Jimin randomly asks, “___, do you regret breaking up with Namjoon?”

It may seem like a question out of left field, but with everything that’s happened, Jimin has been quite reflective lately, particularly about love. He’s had his fair share of partners but unlike you, is more a feeler than a thinker; gets out of relationships as fast as he gets into them; takes it one day at a time whereas you always have to consider the future.

You don’t need to ponder on the question; you’ve gone through this multiple times with your best friends but never really with your brother.

“Sometimes. But there was too much on the line and it was unfair to both of us if we carried on.” You sigh, recalling the moment you both decided it wouldn’t work. “It was something we had to do but doesn’t mean it hurt any less.”

Jimin hums, thinking back to the days he’d barge in your apartment and ask for leftovers when really, he just wanted to be near you so you had someone to cry to, just in case. That was over 2 years ago and it took you a year to finally say that you were over the relationship. He used to note your choice of words - “I’m over us,” never “I’m over him.”

Next to you, Jungkook is picking on his nails, unsure if he should be part of the conversation. He’d heard about the break up since you had common friends. It was quite the shock, knowing how you and Namjoon were.

You pick up this nervous habit, aware that he might not know what really happened. It wasn’t a secret but there was more to the story.

“We just wanted different things,” you say then turning to both of them, “so you two better make sure you’re on the same page with the person you date, talk about what lies ahead, what you want, what you’re willing to compromise and what you aren’t.”

“That’s good advice, yeah Kookie?” Jimin says.

“Why you focusing on me?” Jungkook asks.

“You’re the one focused on the dating, not the settling. You avoid those conversations.”

“You don’t want to settle?” You ask, now curious. You’ve seen him with girlfriends but thinking back now, his relationships never really lasted.

“It’s not that,” he glares at Jimin. “I’m more of a live-in-the-moment kind of guy. Thinking about the future is great, I mean, any mature individual does that, it’s just…”

He heaves out a sigh, hoping he’s not shooting himself in the foot with his statement. “What good is the future if you don’t take care of what you have right now? Isn’t the present more important because it’s what’s assured? The future is literally dependent on that, so the now is what I want to focus on.”

He rests his head on the couch, nervous of your reaction. He knows you’re a planner, needs to see things far ahead to know what to do.

There’s no one way to go about life, he acknowledges that. He just doesn’t want you to think he’s not a serious guy. With his developing feelings for you, not seeing him as a potential partner is literally the worst thing that could happen.

Jimin continues with the movie he paused but in your mind, all you could think about was what Jungkook said. If you and Namjoon hadn’t obsessed about the future, would things have been different? Would you still be together?

The sinking feeling comes at the realization that maybe they still wouldn’t. What if your ‘present’ with him then wasn’t good enough in the first place? That the “could be” was more exciting than the “what is”? Suddenly there’s clarity, you just don’t know if it’s the good kind.

Still, it doesn’t keep you from sinking further down the couch until you’re leaning on Jungkook’s shoulder. And like the few times that you have, there’s a comforting feeling in the act.

“You must’ve made your ex-girlfriends really happy, huh Kook?” You ask, head shuffling near his upper arm. “Focusing on the present and the moments and all that.”

You wish it was something you did, but Namjoon was just like you.

“I guess you could say that,” he answers shyly.

“But that was just it though, right Kook?” Jimin says. “Made them happy but not enough to fall in love.”

This prompts you to look at him, wide eyes full of questions. “How come?”

He turns to you and if he tried enough, Jimin right behind you would blur and there’s just you, overhead light illuminating the best parts of your face which is, well, everything. You’re absolutely breathtaking.

And at your question - how come he never fell in love - comes his own realization. For all of his talk of living in the moment, tucked in the corner of his mind is the thought of the future he’s only ever dreamed about, the one that he’s always wanted, well, with you.

“I - I actually don’t know.”

Adopting your brother, and by extension Jungkook, isn’t as bad as you expected. Sure, Jimin is still a diva and annoys you just because he wants to, but he makes you laugh more, compliments your cooking more, and encourages you to go out and have fun. Most times you do, but if you’re being honest, you’ve been enjoying time spent with him and Jungkook more.

Your movie and PS4 nights are chaotic and only egos are harmed. You and Jungkook help Jimin with job hunting, monitor his practice dancing, and watch dance videos with him. Two months since the gutter incident, you’ve gone to the park, the beach, and the river, perfected making choco-walnut cookies, and built fairy houses.

Your days are more tiring yet satisfying, as if your apartment actually feels like a sanctuary, save for Jimin’s provocation leading to your bickering, but even that has become a welcome addition in your daily life as well.

Jungkook though is altogether a different story. You two have gone grocery shopping together more than once, had spent some mornings on a run, and some weeknights he even picks you up from work then you both grab some of Jimin’s favorite food for dinner. Those are on top of the many nights you’ve spent drinking whatever in the living room, bidding him goodnight either out the door or on your couch. You’re not exactly sure what to make of the giddiness but you shut down whatever unusual feeling there is before they start to mean anything more.

It started with a missed deadline, then an oversight of a risk, then your workmate Chul getting the last laugh. Sometimes, no matter how good you think things are going, all it takes is an extremely bad week, made up of extremely bad moments, to make you doubt yourself. You think some more, then you end up doubting everything else.

Am I good enough for this job? Can I really make a career here? Is this what I really want? Is this going to make me happy? Why the fuck am I still single? It’s the sudden feeling of uncertainty that overwhelms you, makes you second-guess, and suddenly you’re not as stable and secure as you thought you were.

It’s this feeling that you carry over the day after at your friend Jin’s and his wife’s baby shower. Between their growing family, Yoongi’s hit-making record label, Hoseok’s renewed contract as a travel show host, Yuri’s PhD, and Na-eun’s engagement to her college boyfriend, you feel so… lost. Like you’re just getting by, just letting time pass until there’s something big and meaningful to look forward to again, whatever that is.

Of course your friends would never make you feel any less; that’s really on you, which is probably worse.

The party is on full swing; gifts have been given and time has come for full-on socializing where you all get to talk about how great your individual lives are. Except for you. And maybe Eun-ha on the corner who doesn’t seem to be happy being here, but that’s not your problem.

Somewhere near the bar is Jungkook, beer in hand and clearly enjoying himself. He’s a staple in events like this and he fits right in with everyone else - self-assured, content, in control, and may be on his way to a date, seeing as how that pretty girl hasn’t left his side all afternoon. Not that you were monitoring, though.

For once, you’re actually hoping Jimin was here so you can whine together, but the group he used to choreograph for invited him to their concert, so there’s that.

You’re on your third glass of champagne when you head inside Jin’s enormous house, away from the laughter and obvious put-together lives of your friends, when you see him, the man who was once your embodiment of stability, of a “good and secure life,” as your parents had said.

He sees you, flashes his dimple-bearing smile, and walks towards you, looking extremely good in a white polo and denim jacket, brown hair slicked back.

“___!” He greets, his arms immediately engulfing you in a tight hug, providing you the physical warmth that you haven’t felt in a while. You sigh into him, your head on his firm chest, his now sturdier frame but a reminder of the time that's passed.

You linger, prompting him to gently stroke your back like he used to after a long day at work.

“You needed this, huh?” He observes, voice low and comforting.

You release yourself from his hold and look up at him, his sweet smile a contrast to his commanding presence.

“Unfortunately,” you sigh.

“Boss still not giving you due credit? Colleagues still not making it any easier? Stress still at an all-time high?” He asks, and it’s either he still reads you so well or your problems - or you - haven’t changed one bit.

“You’re just not your usual energetic self,” he continues. “I mean, I haven’t seen your genuine smile since you arrived.”

He’s been watching you? Somehow that sends heat to your cheeks and quickens your heartbeat.

“Just tired, is all. Plus, Jimin’s been living at home after a little accident,” you finally respond.

His face makes this charming worried expression. “House already a makeshift wrestling ring?” He laughs.

“You’d be surprised at how little damage there is in my apartment. Safe to say we’ve grown up,” you say, wide smile finally adorning your face, which he returns. You haven’t felt this light the whole week.

“It’s nice to see you again, Joonie.”

You and Namjoon find a spot in the large living room, with the 2-seater couch being the only one available, the physical closeness making it difficult not to be mesmerized by his gorgeous face. His laugh is still the same, the feel of his hand under yours is still the same; the attention he gives, his thoughtful and wise words, and ability to make you feel cared for haven’t changed.

You’re smiling more, eyes sparkling for sure, and you can’t help the way your body reacts the way it does - knees chasing his, hand tucking your hair behind your ear, voice going a key higher.

He’s still the same confident and self-assured man that you fell in love with, that you once saw a life with. It’s almost intoxicating, the way he speaks, sees the world, sees himself. You could easily fall into this again, into the ideal, the safe and secure, the expected, the could be. You think of the reasons why it didn’t work out, of what you chose when you decided to call it quits. His phone rings. He excuses himself but you still hear him. And you’re reminded why.

“I’m sure the gown looks beautiful, love. I’ll leave the party soon and meet you and our parents at the wedding planners’ office. See you in a bit.”

Your heart should be breaking but it’s just your pride that does.

“I’m sorry, it was my uh—“ he says, unsure.

“Your fiancé,” you smile, as if reminding him.

“Yeah it’s… it’s pretty recent and we uh… we’re planning to have it in 3 months,” he explains, eyes turning sullen, lips curling into an apologetic smile.

“Congratulations, Namjoon. I’m so glad you’re happy,” you say, hoping he picks up the sincerity in your voice.

He sits across from you again, hand on top of yours, his smile hopeful, and for the first time, you see him struggle with what to say. So you don’t give him a chance to.

“What are you still doing here?” You playfully nudge him. “You have somewhere else to be.”

“You’ll be okay?”

“Of course. Don’t worry about me.”

He lingers this time. Maybe in another life you would’ve worked out, you would’ve loved each other better, you would’ve fought for each other. But not in this.

He leans forward and places a soft kiss on your forehead and you shut your eyes, absorbing all the words he wishes he could say. I’m sorry. I will always care about you. I hope you find your happiness, too.

Your eyes follow him as he walks out the door, out to the woman who could definitely give him what you couldn’t. From across the room, a pair of eyes follows your movement too, the way it has since you entered the party four hours ago.

Whatever worry you initially had about getting drunk at your friend’s baby shower is out the window. You don’t mind anymore, not with your 5th glass of champagne and your 3 shots of vodka because of course, it’s Jin. You laugh along with your friends although you’re too dazed to process what they’re saying.

Your jaw is sore from laughing over things you don’t understand so you decide to head inside, maybe call it a night and take the drinking back to your place; at least you’d be in your pjs and not in a tight dress and heels.

You’re pulling open a door that just won’t budge and you exert what little energy you have, causing you to trip on yourself only to be held steady by strong hands on your waist.

“That’s a sliding door, ___,” the familiar voice says, tone low but still teasing.

You turn around and meet chocolate eyes looking down at you and you stare back even in your embarrassment.

“I… I think I’m drunk,” you stutter.

You’re met with laughter. “No shit, ___. Think I didn’t notice that?”

“I…” You say, looking down at the hands still holding onto you.

He quickly removes them, worry painting his face and you wave him off before he could apologize.

“Let’s go to a bar, Jungkook.”

You reasoned your decreased alcohol tolerance to your friends, which they didn’t buy but waved you off without much fanfare. They probably sensed you were out of it for a while. Or probably saw the exchange with Namjoon, who knows.

But you’re now at a bar eating chicken wings and fries like you’re about to run out of food, the guy next to you chuckling and reminding you to breathe every once in a while.

You finish your meal quickly and pout when you realize he’s barely touched his food.

“You’re not eating,” you state the obvious.

“Sorry, too entertained,” he laughs, the child-like sound now so familiar, you’d recognize it anywhere.

He’s just smiling at you and you feel so small under his gaze. He saw you talking with Namjoon, taking shots, and almost tripping earlier. He’s probably wondering who this person is; definitely not the one who’s been semi-housing him the past few months.

You bury your face in your hands. “I’m so embarrassed,” you cry out.

“Hey now,” he says, hands gently removing yours from your face. He stops the one tear before it falls off.

“God, how many times have I cried in front of you, Kook? This is humiliating.”

“No one’s counting though,” he states. “It’s your drinks I’m counting and I’m thinking maybe you’ve had enough.”

You nod and he orders a can of soda and a glass of water. With light chatter and glasses clinking in the background, you two fall in comfortable silence. He’s quietly picking on his food, eyes roaming the bar while yours flit from him to the space between you, somehow wishing it isn’t as wide as it is right now.

“I had a bad week,” you finally say. He nods.

“My friends are all accomplishing so many things, achieving their dreams and I’ve been stuck in the same company for 5 years.”

He nods again.

“I’m a 28 year-old who got drunk at a baby shower and flirted with her ex only to find out he’s engaged.”

Jungkook pretends not to be affected at the confirmation that you were indeed flirting with Namjoon but he nods just the same.

“And?” He asks.

“And? I’m in a bar with you, and I cried, and I’m acting like a baby because I had a terrible week and ended up doubting everything and now think I can’t get my life together. I mean, between my brother I can’t properly help, a job I can’t seem to stand out in no matter how hard I try…” You release a deep breath. “And a relationship I couldn’t keep because I wasn’t enough and I…”

“Hey, don’t say that,” he says angrily. “You’re none of those things.”

“I wasn’t sure if I wanted to have kids. And Namjoon always wanted to be a father,” you blurt, the words not stinging as they used to.

This stuns Jungkook. Jimin had always mentioned it was a mutual breakup but never said anything more. Jungkook didn’t think it was because of this.

“I thought I wanted a family, too. It was so easy to fall into the idea of that kind of life with him because he was the perfect person to have it with. But then one day I just started doubting it,” you sigh, recalling how hard you used to be on yourself for suddenly wanting something different.

“Sometimes I think, what if I gave myself more time, what if eventually I’d be sure?” You take a long breath. “But the uncertainty was too much and it wasn’t fair to him,” you huff. There was no blame game; you both knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault.

“Quite the dealbreaker, huh?” Jungkook wonders.

“Yeah but looking back, the other issues were just bubbling under the surface. The future was so enticing and we talked about it all the time, it seemed much more important than well, us,” you explain.

“It was Jimin who made me realize that I hung onto Namjoon for the relationship, the potential, what it meant. He was the epitome of stability and I was the same for him but at some point, even that wasn’t enough.”

“So, earlier. Why did you, uhm,” he starts, hoping it doesn’t come out wrong.

“Flirt with him?”

Jungkook nods.

“Being with him used to make me feel like I had it together, you know? Like I had it figured out because he did and it was silly but I don’t know, maybe I wanted to trick myself into thinking that by being close to him in any way, I had it together.”

“You don’t need to have it together all the time. You just need to have it together enough.” His whole body turns to you.

“You had one bad week, we all do. But it’s over now, isn’t it? Your friends doing well in their careers? So are you. You know what not to compromise on, what to stand up for, which battles to fight. I’ve heard enough of your stories to know that there are people at work who respect you, look up to you. The way your friends, your brother, and I look up to you.”

Your lips are quivering, forcing yourself not to cry again tonight. He just always knows what to say. “That’s really sweet, Jungkook.”

“Thanks, but I wasn’t trying to be sweet. I was just being honest. You’re a lot of good things to people, ___. Isn’t that what matters? Being a little off at work and drinking then flirting with an ex don’t make you any less of a person. Okay? You’re allowed to slip up every once in a while.”

You let this sink in.

“Look at you, Jeon Jungkook. When did you get this wise? It’s like I just blinked then you’re all of a sudden so grown up.” You tease to keep yourself from breaking down.

“Like I told you, much of what I know, I got from Jimin. And what he knows, he got from you. Maybe try listening to yourself, yeah?” He smirks.

You nod, smile creeping on your face the same way all the heat is rushing to your cheeks. You feel comfortable like this, being vulnerable and sad and doubtful but he’s holding you close without touching you, making you feel safe with just his presence. In the now noisy bar, your bodies angling towards each other, and with his tender smile, you feel a type of intimacy you’ve never felt before. It’s reassuring yet enticing at the same time. And this scares you.

You both stay for another hour until you decide it’s time to head home. Jungkook had taken a cab, too in anticipation of drinking so you both decided to walk back to your apartment, knowing the couple of blocks would be enough to sober you up.

The streets are still alive with the nightlife just starting but the noise starts to tone down once you reach your neighborhood. The long walk is soothing, as Jungkook leaves you to your thoughts, except for the times he has to steady you because, well, your vodka shots are still in your system and a walk isn’t enough to flush them down. Still, you’re calm, a feeling of acceptance overtaking you.

“Thanks for tonight, Jungkook. I hope I didn’t ruin any potential date or anything just because I couldn’t get the door open,” you laugh.

He raises an eyebrow.

“That, uh, girl seemed really into you,” you stammer.

He chuckles, hands in his pockets and cheeks flushed at the implication of your observation.

“That wasn't much, we were just chatting.” He turns to you. “I could see your scrunched eyebrows from where I was and thought you needed help,” he shrugs.

You sigh. He was always helpful, ever since he was a kid.

“You know, you were always the good guy. Jimin’s other friends were so rowdy and immature. Yugyeom was always sprawled on the couch with his feet up like he owned the place; Sejun was always finishing our ice cream, and Sunghoon was such a flirt.”

Jungkook laughs, recalling the times you were scolding all of them for messing up the house and being so annoyingly noisy and eating your snacks.

“You were always the well-behaved and mature one. Like, you barely engaged in their pranks and stupid boy talk. You’d rather watch it all unfold until it was too much and you’d help me in the kitchen always. I remember your glazed potatoes. God, that was so hilarious.”

“That was embarrassing.”

“It was funny! And adorable. You were always so kind.”

“Thanks but uh, I wasn’t trying to be kind. Well, sort of. I wanted to impress you. And I—” He doesn’t know where this is coming from but it’s like word vomit, especially now that you’ve started to walk more slowly and are looking at him.

“It was an opportunity to be near you. Kinda wanted a lot of that back then. Even now, actually.”

You gulp, unsure of what to feel or how to react. You thought you were imagining his lingering looks, or how his eyes shone a tad brighter and his smile was a bit wider when you were around. But he’s not saying what he’s saying, right?

“I, uh. Well, maybe you look up to me like an older—“

“Don’t say sister because I never saw you as one,” he interrupts you, frustration laced in his voice as if the word is venom. “Not when I was a teenager, not in the years after, and especially not now.”

You hesitantly turn to him, his nervous face a contrast to the offended tone of his voice just seconds ago. He nibbles on his lips, a mannerism you noticed when he was a teenager who always seemed shy around you and would only relax after you talked to him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. I didn’t mean to sound angry. I just—“

“That was your angry tone?” You tease, your laugh affirming him that you’re not upset one bit, just… unsure. You’re flattered, definitely; he is a very attractive man. Still your brother’s best friend, though.

This eases him, but prompts him to test the waters.

“I’m a gentle boy, what can I say? Most times, at least,” he says, and you don’t miss the playful tone of this voice, his eyes peering down at you, making your breath hitch and your hands clammy.

You wrap yourself with your arms - really to wipe the sweat off because you’re feeling nervous - but Jungkook takes this differently, as anyone would, and immediately unzips his jacket and puts it on you.

You slow on your tracks and you feel even warmer. He follows your pace but urges you to speed up once he feels a droplet on his cheek. You’re glad you opted to wear low heels today, tiring your calves only a little but allowing you to walk fast enough until you’re on the steps of your apartment in time to miss the sudden downpour.

Well, Jungkook doesn’t because as he enters, a portion of his torso is wet, his black shirt sticking on his skin to tease you of his toned abs that you definitely will be thinking about tonight. Between that, his damp hair, and soaked veiny arm, you curse your mind for the images it’s currently making up.

All he did was indirectly tell you he has a crush on you, right? Or did he? He doesn’t seem as bothered as you expected him to be if that was the case so maybe you misinterpreted?

You can’t stand this wet version of him so you say you’ll get him a towel but are too flustered so you hit the wall as you turn towards the bathroom, eliciting a loud “ow!”

“You okay?” He asks worriedly.

“Yeah, still drunk I guess,” you lie. He smirks and probably knows you’re lying.

“I’ll take care of myself, don’t worry. Go wash up and get ready for bed.”

“Are you ordering me around?” You ask, trying your best to reestablish yourself as the one in authority because you can’t take how this man is making you feel nervous and unsettled and not in control.

“Do you want me to?” He simpers, flustering you even more. What is with him?

You roll your eyes and trudge to your bathroom. You’re technically sober but with Jungkook’s looks, the sudden flirty tone of his voice, and his innuendos, you might as well be drunk again.

You open the door and seconds later he’s by your bedroom, a glass of water in one hand and apple juice in the other. The bottle of aspirin is tucked under his arm by his rib and he asks you to get it and you think he's evil for testing you but you take it, acting unbothered. He follows you to your room and you don’t stop him.

Glasses now on your bedside, you tuck yourself in. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

“For what?”

“For staying with me? Listening to me?” You test the waters, too. “For caring for me?” And his smugness disappears. Before you is a man, all strong and tough yet his smile is the tiniest, softest you’ve ever seen on him, and even from where you are, you could see the tips of his ears turn red.

“I really appreciate everything,” you conclude, and you mean it.

He gathers himself before he looks you in the eyes. “Don’t worry about it. Anything you need, just tell me.” You nod.

“Sleep well, ___.”

You don’t sleep well. In fact, even with the rain pouring outside, you feel so hot, you end up shedding your shorts.

The closeness with Jungkook has been gradual and if anything, it’s been comfortable. You convince yourself what he has is probably just a little crush; convincing your heart to still is a different story.

Jungkook, on the other hand, can’t stop smiling. He was testing the waters tonight, gauging how you would react to his flirtation and teasing. It was partly the alcohol but then you’d gone all shy and flustered; he thought it was worth a shot.

He was half expecting you to scold him like you used to do with Sunghoon, or berate him like those guys at work but you did neither. You don’t seem to hate him, even with his indirect confession to you, and that’s really better than what he’d hoped.

You wake up dissatisfied with your sleep and take your hangover necessities; dealing with Jungkook last night did add to your inebriation.

You head out to the kitchen to prepare some beef bone soup to help with the headache, hands trying to remove the sleep from your eyes. You move like you’re on autopilot like most post-night out mornings and then you hear someone gasp.

“Shit, woman. Learn your manners and put some clothes on,” Jimin shouts.

It wouldn’t have been bothersome had Jungkook not been here but of course, he is. Next to your brother, eyes wide and definitely trying not to look at your bare legs. It dawns on you that you indeed removed your shorts because of that very man and your face contorts in shock and embarrassment.

“Fuck. Jimin! Grab me my shorts on my bed, please!!!” You cry out and stand behind the counter.

He’s too scandalized to complain so he rushes to your room and you feel so hot all over. You avoid Jungkook’s face at all costs, which apparently is what he’s also doing.

Jimin throws your shorts on your face. “Get yourself together, jeez,” he scowls.

“You’re the one invading my space, okay, both of you,” you bite back.

Jimin’s making faces like he always does when you scold him and Jungkook sits next to him, chuckling.

“I shouldn’t have welcomed you, you brats. I’m used to walking around my apartment in my underwear so this is a lifestyle change.”

“Oh god, shut it. Nobody wants to imagine you without clothes on,” he cringes.

For some reason, your eyes find Jungkook, who visibly gulps. You glare at both men, and Jimin responds with an evil smile.

You return to what you were meant to do and start getting ingredients. Jungkook starts to feel bad and approaches you, mumbles to Jimin that he’ll just help.

Jungkook appears next to you. “Did you mean that?”

You sigh. “I didn’t. Of course you two are welcome here.”

“I was referring to the other one,” he says with a low voice.

Your eyes widen and you smack his arm. “What is wrong with you? Stop teasing,” you loud-whisper, but he doesn’t miss the way you try to hide your laugh.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he smirks, and you get flustered even more.

You’re a 28-year old getting scandalized over playful comments by this ridiculously good-looking man and you feel so pathetic but you can’t deny that it’s exciting you. It’s been a while since you’ve had someone flirt with you and pay attention to you like this, make you all giddy and entranced as if you’re an adolescent getting her first love letter or being told by her crush that she’s pretty.

There’s playfulness there but affection, too. You see it in the way he stops the teasing and smiles to himself, then proceeds to help you cook, looks at you with fondness while you eat, then forces Jimin to clean up with him.

This continues for the next few weeks. His lingering looks on you are more flirty now and he smirks when you look away and try to hide your flushed face. His tone of voice when Jimin is nearby is lower, as if he’s telling you a secret.

He no longer stiffens when Jimin moves to the corner of the couch and kicks you closer to Jungkook so that your brother can make space for himself. In fact, it’s the opposite now, with Jungkook finding ways to be near you - when the three of you are on a grocery run, when you’re all on the couch for movie night, and especially when Jimin opts to sit on the floor - shuffling closer, knees grazing each other’s.

You’ve kept your head to yourself, fighting the urge to rest it on his shoulder and he definitely noticed this, so he’s started to edge you, in a way. The once lingering finger touches when he hands you something are no more, so are the “accidental” elbow brushes.

He stands close to you just enough for you to feel the heat off him but not enough to feel him. His arm over your chair leaves his hand thisclose to your shoulder and you swear you can feel the sensation even then.

You’d stopped smacking him after this one time he flexed his bicep and you started to imagine how good those arms must look.

You found out shortly after when he and Jimin convinced you to join them in the gym because Jungkook had a voucher to a free yoga class since a client of his is a teacher; safe to say she wasn’t happy when he popped in the studio to say you were taking his slot. Jungkook and Jimin did a workout, your brother now in a better condition.

After the session, they made you wait as they finished and Jungkook really had to remove his red jacket to reveal his stupidly gorgeous toned and tattooed arms in a black fit sleeveless top. He caught you ogling and the devil crossed his arms to fucking flex and smirk when the conversation he was having with one of the trainers didn’t even seem that amusing.

Of course, his outfit just sent your mind into another dimension with the images of what could be underneath that black top and again, you find out one morning exactly how glorious it is.

It’s one of those post-bar night mornings - you’ve allowed Jimin to enjoy the nightlife again as long as he had chaperones, which essentially were you and Jungkook. You’d woken up and stopped by the hallway at the sound of someone gasping and you look up from the hallway, slack jawed as you watch Jungkook pull his shirt off from the back of his neck with one hand, coffee-stained clothing lying on the counter.

His black sweatpants are hanging low on his hips and does he not have any boxers on?? His tiny waist spreads out to his muscular back, and when he turns, his sculpted chest almost blinds you; pecs just the right perk and torso so taut but not intimidating at all. It’s... beautiful. It looks so smooth and captivating; your eyes can’t help but trail down south and is that black ink that’s peeking underneath the waistband? You gulp at the thought of Jungkook having a hip tattoo because what the fuck? Is he trying to kill you? And his…

“Do you have a shirt I can borrow?” He asks, and you jerk from where you’re standing.

Your eyes turn to the appropriate body part they should be focused on and he’s smiling like he’s an angel, as if he literally didn’t just try to murder you with his exquisite bare body.

His smile is so sweet and you know he’s playing you because he totally caught you drooling at the sight of him. Your throat is dry and suddenly you can’t speak, which really isn’t surprising by now because he’s also taken away your ability to form coherent sentences.

“I, uhm. I’ll get one of Jimin’s.”

“I don’t fit in his clothes. Don’t you have large ones?”

He knows you do, and you nod, unclench the thighs you didn’t even realize had betrayed you, and retrieve one of your oversized Disney t-shirts and approach him. You stay at a safe distance because any closer you might fall into temptation and you throw him the shirt.

He chuckles and turns to his side to slowly put it on because of course there’s a fucking dent down there that he wants to show off.

You turn and trip on your foot because god knows how dizzy you feel from the show he just put on.

“Careful,” he calls out and even with your back turned, you just know he’s smirking.

He beats you to the bathroom shortly after and he took his time.

You decide to wait with your brother who’d been so ecstatic over an audition he landed for a fairly new and small entertainment company as a choreographer for a hip-hop group.

They told him his contemporary dance background and versatility are just what they need and you soften at his joyful face; he says he feels like a new person again. You listen to him excitedly and give encouragement.

You perk at the sound of the bathroom door opening because you really need to clean the wetness down there and you trudge out of the room so you could finally shower, slightly upset at Jungkook’s clothed form.

You groan. “Ugh that was so long,” you mindlessly say.

“Oh it is.” His smirk is back and you are pissed. You bang the door and pull your hair out of frustration.

He doesn’t even need to touch you for you to be a whimpering mess. He knows it. And you’re in trouble.

Jungkook is busy for the next two weeks, having shared that he has a couple of on-site art installations outside of the city and a tattoo piece that will need more than one 5-hour shift. You tried not to seem affected when Jimin teased him since it was going to be on a woman’s breast this time.

“This the same one who had her vagina tattooed? The one who asked you out after?” Jimin asked.

Your eyes were burning your phone screen because you absolutely cannot be affected.

“Yeah,” Jungkook laughed. “That was fun.”

Jin calling you was your saving grace and you spent the next half hour in your room, talking to him over nursery room ideas because Hoseok couldn’t make up his mind over a neon green or a fuschia pink wall and Yoongi wanted dark grey because “babies can’t even identify colors,” which is true but Jin needed you as the one with a more palatable taste.

Jungkook had knocked to say goodbye, which is more than his usual yelling, and you noticed him linger before you heard the steps away from your door.

It was day 5 when you realized why you’d been so grumpy and you hated the moment you did - you miss Jungkook. You’d gotten so used to seeing him every few days - picking you up from work, playing rock-paper-scissors to determine who’ll choose dinner, laughing at his high-pitched child-like laughter, talking to him about work and other things… you even miss his flirting and teasing.

He’d been such a staple in your life the past months, and not just to referee between you and Jimin. Jungkook, with his listening ear, his heartwarming passion for his work, and ability to soothe and comfort you in the silence, just feels so stable. And not in the way you used to think. He’s so laid-back and just there, always dependable, like you’re sure whatever it is you’re feeling, he’ll know what to do and say.

Jimin used to say that Jungkook was always the person he needed for anything and now you understand why. He emits a certain calmness, joy, and consistency, like whether you’re flying or drowning, he’s the pillar grounding you or keeping you afloat.

You’re always tempted to send him a message but you two don’t text and it’d be weird to just start now, although it doesn’t help that he doesn’t text you, too. You shrug it off and convince yourself that it really might just be a silly crush, one he acts on when he’s around you but probably forgets when he isn’t. Or maybe he went out with that girl, who knows?

On the day that he arrives, he's set to drive Jimin to the audition and watch him, too, while you’re just happy to be able to do errands and clean the house on your own.

The doorbell rings and Jimin, whom you’ve reminded to shower so he won’t be late, answers the door and you try not to look intrigued when you hear him rambling about how good Jungkook apparently looks because how else can he look better?

With ash-grey hair, that’s how. You couldn’t help it. You peeked and turned your head before he could turn to look at you.

You’re currently by the kitchen counter, tiptoeing to try to get the cereal box on the top shelf to check if you need to buy another or if it would suffice. Or if it’s even still edible. You’ll be off for a quick grocery run if only you can get this stupid box out.

Then a large hand is touching your lower back and the fresh scent of detergent fills your nose. You stiffen as an arm is raised to easily grab the cereal box you’ve spent the past 5 minutes trying to get and fuck do you miss his touch, his scent that you realize is just as comforting as his soft sweatshirts, and the way you feel a jolt of electricity even at the slightest brush of his body on yours.

He places the box on the counter. “You should’ve asked,” he says, voice low.

“I can do it,” you respond, gaining the courage to look at him and your lips betray you at how they part because he looks so good with his new hair.

“I know. I just like it when you ask.” He tries to keep his eyes on you but they keep falling to your lips, the one he’d been imagining the feel and taste of. But your eyes lock on his, letting yourself be hypnotized.

You feel his touch drift away from you and you stop him, as your hand finds his and keeps it on your waist, and it signals him to grip tighter and pull you closer. And you let him. You angle yourself so you’re standing chest to chest, you could almost feel his heart beat just as fast as yours.

“What else?” You indulge yourself because you just wanna know. You've missed him and you can’t reconcile the flirting with his recent silence.

Jungkook bites his lip, knowing it’s his signal to tell you how he feels.

“I like it when you say my name, when you listen to me talk and take me seriously. When you don’t make me feel bad about the things I do, the things I choose.”

His hand that isn’t on your waist glides through your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. It settles on your cheek and you hope he doesn’t notice just how hot it is.

“I like it when you pout and when you smile with your eyes,” he continues. “And I like it when you need me because then I know I’m not the only one, because fuck do I need you,” he continues, both hands pulling you closer to him until his breath grazes your mouth.

“Want you so much,” he mumbles, before he eliminates the distance and you feel his soft lips on yours, moving tenderly, carefully, as if the purpose is to seek validation that you feel the same way, to ask your acceptance of the overwhelming affection he has for you.

Your lips move gently like his, languid yet electrifying and euphoric and you hold onto him for support, just so you won’t lose yourself even more than you already are.

This now feels surreal. You’re not thinking about anything else - not the before or the after - just the feel of him at this very moment and how it’s making you feel alive, carefree, unbound. And you wonder if all your other kisses had felt this good before. Or maybe just different.

You and Jungkook keep your steady pace, focusing on the soothing feel of each other’s lips, of the sensation of something sensuous and tender.

The aggressive pull of the bathroom door jolts you awake from a dream it seems, and you’re ducking down and crouching on the floor behind the counter before your brother notices anything amiss. Jungkook’s surprised but holds his laugh at how scared you look, the first time he’d seen you be afraid of your brother.

“Kook, has my sister left for the grocery?” He calls out from his open room, probably dressing as he speaks.

Jungkook looks up to check on Jimin. “Yeah, she just left,” he answers after deciphering your hand gestures from underneath him.

“Ugh, I forgot to tell her to buy my cereal. I think the one on the top shelf isn’t edible anymore.”

Jungkook smirks, thanking the heavens that Jimin didn’t tell you, otherwise Jungkook wouldn’t have had the best kiss of his life. He felt you; you moved with him, you felt him. And he can’t be happier.

He has a chance with you. He really has a chance with you, and even at the risk of being caught, he’d do this with you over and over again.

“Let’s go,” Jimin calls out. “I’ll just text her.”

“I’m sure she knows,” Jungkook smirks then heads out, leaving you with a dazed feeling and a heart that won’t slow its beating.

Your time alone with your thoughts only served to confuse you even more. It felt nice. He felt nice. You’d never really considered Jungkook as anything more than, well, your brother’s best friend, even if he’d been the one you preferred out of all of Jimin’s friends dating back to middle school.

His well-behaved nature and boyish charms were always endearing to you and even when he grew up, his confidence and compassion just amazed you. But it was always from afar. You think it’s the same with him; his affection may just be a little infatuation borne out of his idea of you growing up. You’ve learned enough that the idea of a person, of a relationship, of a could be isn’t always enough.

Another thing you think about is that Jimin is very protective of his friendships. You know that more than anyone, when you dated Taemin in high school.

You were both seniors and had gotten close because he was Jimin’s dance captain and mentor, someone whom your brother looked up to and admired. Your relationship ended during your first year of college, with both of you saying things you eventually regretted. Safe to say it was your first heartbreak, one that resulted to Jimin’s as well, as his friendship with your ex was also affected.

You and Jimin barely talked about it, seeing his own disappointment because of the resulting strained relationship with Taemin. You thought that the elder would at least maintain a friendship, but he didn’t.

The most Jimin said about it was when he told you, eyes downcast but tone quite angry, to “keep off my friends and don’t date any of them, please.” You were home for a break and he stormed out of your room before you could apologize. You realized later on that his heartbreak was worse than yours; you told yourself you don’t want to be the cause of that pained look on his face ever again.

His friends are off-limits, he made it pretty clear. Taemin was a mentor but one Jimin eventually did without. But Jungkook is his best friend, his brother. They’ve looked out for each other for more than half of their lives; you can’t even imagine what would happen if you and Jungkook get together and then fight, or break up.

You wouldn’t want Jimin to have to give up a friendship that means more to him than anything. Or more accurately, you wouldn’t want to lose Jimin over something that might not mean as much anyway.

You stick to the latter thought, especially when both men arrive home and Jimin is beaming, his smile something you’d never admit actually makes your heart feel all sorts of fuzziness and pride. He’s so excited and you feel it, too, moreso because he informs you that he got the job.

“They really liked me! They said I can really mentor the group and their team is so creative and passionate…” Jimin goes on, narrating every single thing that happened right as he entered the studio. You’ve never seen him this elated, not even with his previous company that was at the top of their game.

“And they said I don’t have to work right away! They’ll wait for my doctor’s clearance but I can go to work to observe and get to know them more.”

Your eyes moisten because not long ago, you saw the joy in your brother wither away, his passion deteriorate, and his plans go on a standstill. But now, it’s like he didn’t go through a slump or moments of weakness, like he didn’t go through a depressive mode when he thought he’d lost everything. He’s really a fighter, and you truly look up to him.

“I wouldn’t have made it if it wasn’t for you two,” Jimin continues, pulling both of you in a three-way hug because of course your brother wouldn’t hug just you.

This prompts Jungkook to wrap his arm around you, hand gripping your waist while yours settles for mere pats on his lower back. He tries not to dwell on this minimal contact, or on the way you purposely avoid his gaze. He tries not to think too much when you actively lean towards your brother more during your dinner out, or how you jerk away when any of Jungkook’s body parts comes in close contact with yours.

He’s thinking maybe you’re not in the mood for his playful antics or maybe, he really pushed too far with the kiss from earlier, and it sends him in an internal panic mode because just as his hope of starting something more with you was blooming, it quickly gets shot down just like that.

It’s when you pass up on games and drinks in your living room when you get back so you could just stay in your room did Jungkook think that he may really have blown his chance.

You try to be subtle in your avoidance of Jungkook but it’s harder than expected, especially since Jimin still invites him over. With the excitement of the new job now steadying, Jimin announces his checklist for getting through a crisis - healed foot, check; new job, check. That’s pretty much it, really. “But I still need you two,” he says.

Jungkook comes over and at the start, you notice how he still tries. He attempts to catch your gaze, goes near you, engages you in conversation, makes jokes, lingers before leaving… only to be met with eyes that don’t seek him, short answers, forced laughter, and cold goodbyes. And you absolutely hate it.

He’s around yet you miss him even more than when he was away, but you can’t fall into the things that made you feel something for him in the first place.

Living with Jimin made you appreciate him so much more, and you’re glad you get to be this close with him for the first time, and you don’t want to jeopardize that.

Jungkook had much to do with the newfound attachment with your brother, yet it’s exactly why you’re hesitant to give Jungkook a chance. Their relationship is sacred, similar to how yours with Jimin is. What you and Jungkook have is a by-product of those, and it’s not the priority. Somehow you think all three can’t coexist; you can’t have it all, really.

Whenever Jungkook makes an effort, Jimin’s plea to keep off his friends rings in your head. You know, too, that Jimin gave his friends an ultimatum - date my sister or keep your dicks, something like that. It was funny when you heard of it, but it’s definitely not a laughing matter now.

Those words were said years ago yet they still hang above your head. You wish Jungkook would just make it easier for you, but why is it that when he stopped trying did you feel your heart break, as if you’re losing something you never had in the first place?

It’s easy to reason you feel sick and tired; you’ve been spending later hours at work so spending more time in your room and asking the boys to make dinner instead seem reasonable. But tonight, Jimin isn’t having it.

“We’re celebrating, stay here,” he says, pulling you to the couch next to him. Jungkook is on his right, his once tendency to stiffen around you back again, and you sadden at the thought because he looks so uncomfortable.

“Celebrating what?” You ask, grabbing the beer being handed to you.

“I’ve been working for 2 weeks and I haven’t reinjured my foot,” he says, his smile blinding you.

Normally you’d roll your eyes at his shallowness but you just agree and mindlessly sip the beer, eyes veering off in the distance.

“Is it a guy?” Jimin asks out of nowhere and you try not to choke. “You only ever get this sulky when it’s about a guy. Is it someone from work?” Jimin states with furrowed eyebrows.

“Oh! Is it one of the managers who’s been trying to ask you out but he’s the ex of your close friend?”

You try to remember when you told him that but it was definitely a months-ago issue.

“Or did you have an epiphany and realized you actually like Yoongi? Or Hoseok? Or maybe Jin but he’s married?”

“What the hell, Jimin!” You say, smacking his arm. Your eyes flit to Jungkook who’s focused on the TV.

“The first one,” you lie to satisfy your brother.

“It’s kind of a code, you know? He’s Yuri’s ex and she really loved him and I don’t want to ruin my friendship over something I’m not sure is worth it anyway.” And with that, you see Jungkook’s jaw clench. He knows about Yuri and the manager; they were merely a fling, so he knows you’re lying.

“How do you know it’s not worth it if you haven’t even tried?” Jimin asks, incredulous.

“I don’t know, it’s just… Yuri’s my friend and I don’t wanna mess up a friendship.”

“Seems like you don’t trust your friendship with Yuri enough, then,” Jimin states like it’s a fact. This hits your more than it should. Do you really not trust in your relationship with your own brother? Surely you have a basis to be hesitant, but if it only it were that simple.

Jimin picks up on your silence and asks again. “How are you and the guy like? Do you have moments with him?”

“Lots of them,” you say, your eyes finding Jungkook just on the other side of the couch and he’s never felt farther away.

“And for the first time it’s like I get to savor them. Whether it’s something sweet that he does, or if we’re just together in silence, or when he’s being flirty,” and you don’t see it but Jungkook catches you smiling at the thought and god does he wish you’re lying about this one unless it’s about him. He wishes it is.

“Sounds like a keeper if he gets you to enjoy moments, don’t you think? For someone like you?” Jimin says, cocking an eyebrow.

“Like me?”

“You think too much, you know? You plan, you analyze, you manage risks… I mean, yeah sure they help I guess but this isn’t a job, ___. There’s no profit to be earned here, no losses,” he points out.

“The only loss is you missing out on something good because you’re too focused on what could happen, and not what’s actually happening, right now.” He's told you a variation of this before, but somehow this hits differently, and more than it should.

“Did you teach that to Jungkook, too?” You ask, a smile creeping up and you digress because you need anything to stop you from walking to Jungkook and holding him close to you.

“No, he taught me that,” Jimin states. “I know it seems like I teach him a lot - well, all I really told him was to never let anybody dictate what he wants and deserves in life, and I stand by that, but to be clear,” Jimin turns to you, “I learn just as much from him. He’s his own self; nobody tells him what to do.”

It’s all meant to be assuring, comforting even, if only Jimin knew. And if only it were that simple. The tension is suffocating but your brother breathes easy. You love him more than you can ever say and his happiness has meant more to you than you ever imagined. You just wish your own didn’t come at a cost.

A few days later, Jungkook is back at your place and you had quite the reflective week and opted to stay in your room.

Some days you just want to bask in your own thoughts; absorbing yourself in your own emotions helps in figuring out what to do, you’ve realized. You’re still a thinker and a planner - that’s probably never gonna change - but you’re starting to at least let yourself feel and enjoy the now, or something like it. You just wish the person you want to spend your now with hasn’t changed his mind.

It’s almost midnight when you decide to head out, your early dinner long digested and you feel hunger creeping in.

You exit your room and stop in your tracks at the sight of Jungkook in your kitchen, all alone. You definitely weren’t ready for this.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were still here,” and you regret it immediately, not wanting to sound disappointed.

He looks up, alarmed at your presence because he wasn’t expecting this, too.

“Jimin fell asleep on me but don’t worry, I was just about to leave,” he responds, eyes not meeting yours.

“He’s also gonna be coming over my place now since he’s able. Don’t want you to feel like a prisoner in your own home,” he says, motioning to your room where you’ve been hiding recently.

“Since you’re avoiding me and all,” he continues, and you don’t miss the hurt look on his face.

You mentally give yourself a pep talk because you definitely want him to still come around and you’re definitely being stupid.

“I… I wasn’t avoiding you,” you say, blocking his way by the couch as he’s about to reach for his jacket.

He stops in front of you, ensuring some distance. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, you were just not minding me and making sure you stayed as far away from me as possible.” He’s trying to sound bitter but you’re his weakness and he will always go soft on you because his tender eyes are definitely not a match to his bitter words.

“I just didn’t know what to do. You didn’t exactly say what you felt and—“

“I kissed you, ___,” he says, tone suppressing frustration.

“I told you I needed you, wanted you. And you kissed me back. The way you looked at me that day, the way you held me… it meant more, I could feel it. So I don’t know how you could just act like none of that happened, like it didn’t matter,” he continues.

“Jungkook… you’re my brother’s bestest friend. And he’s very protective of his friends, of you.”

And it’s ironic, Jungkook thinks, how Jimin is the reason why you two had met, got close; how Jimin’s what got you together but is also who’s keeping you apart.

“He’s also the one who constantly reminds me to go for what I want, to never let anybody tell me what to do,” Jungkook says.

“Yeah but this is different. I don’t want anything to come in between you two, the same way I don’t want anything to come in between him and me.”

“So it’s okay for him to come in between us? You really think he’d be okay with that? That he’d keep the two people he loves the most from being together? From being happy?”

And you hate that he’s right.

“What Jimin is to us is out of our control,” he states. “But that shouldn’t be why we can’t try, right? Because god I’ve wanted you since I was 15 and and I’ve waited too long for this and I’d either fight for us or keep us a secret, I don’t care. Just don’t lie to me, please.”

By now he’s standing in front of you and he could pin you against the armrest if he wanted to but he’s keeping his hands to himself, fists clenched at the control he’s trying to maintain because of his intense feelings for you. He’d make you feel it all too, if you just let him.

You can move away if you wanted; there’s space for it. But you don’t. Jungkook bared everything to you, braving through just to be with you; the least you could do is be honest. So with your own strength, you look up at him.

“You made me fall for the moments, Jungkook. You made me fall for you, and there were so many things to consider and I—“

Your rear hits the armrest, as you’d reflexively walked back as he started to move towards you, slowly eliminating the distance. His arms, sandwiching you, are propped on the couch to support his spread out frame, his face now level with yours. You’re burning with how he’s looking at you with so much hope and yearning.

“Go on,” he says, voice low, his eyes wandering all over your face and you feel your heat dampen with just his gaze.

“I didn’t know what to do with what I’d started to feel for you because you were off-limits but that didn’t keep me from wanting you and—“

His lips graze the side of your neck and with your breath hitching, he proceeds. Open-mouth kisses trail your neck, with just enough wetness and just enough heat to leave you wanting more. You angle your neck for more access and he smirks at this.

“And what?” He urges you, mouth focusing on the other side of your neck now, head nudging yours to adjust.

“And I avoided you because—“

You grip the couch for support, as you unravel with his hot breath on your skin.

“That seemed easier than to keep at what we were doing knowing that—“

He licks a sensitive part by your ear and your strangled moan spurs him on.

“I couldn’t have you the way I wanted to.”

At this, he stops.

He focuses his gaze on you again. Jungkook holds onto the tiniest shred of self-control he has left just so he can savor you like this, emotions unraveling and your body falling apart before him.

“How exactly do you want me?”

You steady your breath and as much as you want to give in to your carnal desire and attack his lips, you want him to know how much this means to you. You’re still scared but being with Jungkook steadies you, makes it all feel worth it.

You’re crossing this line now, and you’ll stick with him whether you’ll both come clean or keep it a secret. He wants you enough right now; you’ll figure out what to do eventually.

Your hand finds his face and fingers trace the scar on his cheek. You let yourself drown in his beautiful eyes, knowing on clear nights you could see galaxies like this.

“I want you close, Jungkook. I want you to hold me, when I’m sad, happy, confused. I want to hold you that way, too. I want to savor every moment, let you know everyday what you mean to me.”

Your featherlight touches on his jaw send shivers all over his body and he hums at the sensation. You caress his lips before he could bite them again, palming him with your thumb and feeling its softness.

“I want you to fall apart under my touch, want to make you feel good, kiss you like it’s always the last time.”

Jungkook thinks he deserves a prize for how well he’s keeping himself together and not yet taking you on this couch like his dick is telling him to. But he needed to hear all that, needed to look in your eyes while you said them.

Then you smile at him, eyes filled with desire, and that’s all it takes for him to lose his resolve and plunge into you, your plush lips against his soft ones, melding together again like a literal dream. He straightens his stance so his hands can cup your face and he feels you smile in the kiss, relishing in the care and attention he’s giving.

It starts tenderly then quickly turns heated, his eager hands trailing down your arms and waist, and your own entangling his hair, pulling the strands as he nips your lips, prompting them to open.

Your tongues explore each other’s mouths, his lingering taste of rootbeer somehow making him more addictive. You swallow each other’s sounds, both of you still having half a mind to tone down, knowing that only a wall separates your wanton moans and your sleeping brother.

His grip around you tightens and you pull him closer, your hands now around his neck, fingers thumbing his cheeks and you’re losing yourself to him, as the past few months of undeniable attraction and sexual tension climaxing at this moment where you finally give in to what you’ve been trying to suppress.

Jungkook, on the other hand, feels a sense of calm even with his hard dick and his thumping heart because he’s dreamed of this, dreamed of you, and you’re here wanting him, too. All the memories of watching you from afar, blushing at how beautiful you are, missing you when you were away, heart breaking at how happy you were with someone else, fly by him like a movie because he’s got his ending - you.

He’s lived for moments most of his life and always knew to savor them, to bask in them because he doesn’t know when he’ll get to have those again. But nothing comes close to right now with you and he decides to make sure he’ll have you like this everyday.

Both your actions continue, hands stationary but mouths eagerly moving against each other, stopping momentarily for air but smiling, laughing in the kiss.

You give in first, fingers slowly trailing down to graze at his chest and he shivers, curses mid-kiss and you giggle, and he’s on cloud 9 again, realizing he can hear the beautiful sound that is your laughter everyday.

Suddenly it’s all thoughts of what’s ahead for both of you, imagining what that would be like - feeling, holding, touching each other. You’re both so lost in your little world, minds traveling from now to tomorrow and it’s exciting, so incredibly alluring to be savoring this moment but also thinking about the next.

You’re light-headed now because kissing him is like a drug, soothing yet exhilarating at the same time and you’re aching to feel him. “Jungkook…” You whine.

And then.

“HOLY SHIT,” you hear a gasp.

Your eyes burst open and you feel Jungkook stiffen before you try to push him away. You both stull, looking at each other, some distance now between you, and you can hear a pin drop with how quiet it is, the tension so thick that you’re afraid to move.

You knew at one point you’re gonna have to tell Jimin but not now and definitely not in the middle of a fucking make-out session.

“Is this a hookup or are you both finally out of your asses and would actually like to properly date because god knows it’s about time?”

You and Jungkook slowly turn to the side, eyes wide at your brother who’s leaning by the wall, checking his nails as if he didn’t just give you a heart attack.

“WHAT?” You ask.

“Jungkook’s been into you since forever but never had the fucking guts to do anything.” Jimin sighs and rolls his eyes at the man. “You’re not exactly subtle with your staring.”

Jungkook can’t seem to wrap his head around what's happening because his mouth keeps moving but no sound comes out.

“Neither are you,” Jimin eyes you this time. “You forget I’m good with reading people. And also, I’m friends with Yuri. She doesn’t even remember that guy,” he laughs because of course they’re friends. You feel so stupid; you should’ve known he was trying to catch you in a lie when he asked if your sulking was because of a “guy.”

“So you’ve always known?” Jungkook finally finds his voice.

“About you, duh. She’s recent,” Jimin points to you. “It’s like, one moment you’re friendly then you’re flirty then it’s like you can’t stand each other. Get your shit together, people. I’m literally right here.”

God, you and Jungkook were definitely not subtle. And underestimated your brother, too.

“So you’re not mad?” You confirm.

“No.”

“But… you said you were gonna cut my dick off,” Jungkook stammers.

“And you told me to keep off your friends because of Taemin,” you add. “You stopped being friends because of me,” you remind him, voice almost a whisper.

Jimin takes a deep breath because now he has to come clean.

“We stopped being friends because of him. He hurt you, ___, and you didn’t deserve that,” he admits, avoiding your questioning gaze. “I heard you crying to Jin about what happened and I got angry and wanted you to stay away from my friends because they were all assholes.” He continues, jaw clenched at the memory. “Well, except for him,” he cocks his head towards Jungkook.

“He was the only good guy. I never really minded if he went for you because... iknowhe’lltreatyouwellandyoudeservethat,” Jimin says.

And you’re not gonna lie, you feel like crying. Jimin’s been trying to protect you all this time.

Jungkook, on the other hand, isn’t taking this all too well.

“You said you were gonna cut my dick off…” He says again, tone low and unbelieving.

“That didn’t stop you, did it?” Jimin counters, earning him a sigh of defeat because he has a point.

“I just wanted it to happen naturally,” he explains. “I mean, I didn’t plan on getting heartbroken, injured, unemployed, then homeless all at once but it happened and you both helped me and that unintentionally brought you together and I…”

He turns to you both. “I realized how good you are together. Not just in taking care of me but in taking care of each other, too.”

By this time, Jungkook has found his feet and is back to standing in front of you, his hand intertwining with yours. You let out a laugh because this whole time, Jimin wasn’t in the dark. But then again, he’s a smart ass too and would’ve figured it out.

And would also push it. “I actually got over Taehyung months ago so like, I’ve been okay for a while,” he shrugs.

And just like that, he gets on your nerves again because that’s how he’s been getting his way, by reminding you of his “broken heart that’s still hurting.”

“You little bitch! Do you also have a new apartment now and you’re not telling me?!” You shriek, and Jungkook next to you is finally laughing.

“Oh no,” Jimin responds. “I’m really still homeless.”

And he smiles his sickly sweet smile and you can’t help but mirror it. Your brother is really something, and you don’t know what you’d do without him.

Some seconds pass and you’re just all basking in this moment because for the first time in months, it really feels like things are looking out for all of you.

“So in that case,” Jungkook turns to you. “Would you like to go on a date with me?” Hopeful eyes staring at you, a weight off his shoulder now that he doesn’t need to hide anything from his best friend. He can just focus on falling in love with you and making you do the same.

“Yes,” you excitedly reply, hand trailing down his chest again. “And in that case, would you like to continue this in my bedroom?”

Jungkook feels his dick twitch. “Fuck, yes.”

“Guess I’m gonna have to sleep on the couch now,” Jimin groans, but you don’t miss his playful tone. “You’re both welcome, idiots.”

You’re pushed to the wall right as the door closes and Jungkook’s lips meet yours immediately. It tastes much sweeter knowing there’s no need to hide, to be careful. It’s liberating and it’s making you feel more.

He kisses you harshly as his hands make quick work of your shirt, pulling them off then slowly kneeling down in tandem with his mouth sucking, licking, and kissing down to your breasts, then your torso, causing your chest to heave at the pleasure from just his mouth.

His hands aggressively pull down your bottoms and his tongue finds your clit before you can even process his action. He’s nibbling your bud and laving at your lips and pumping his fingers in you all at once, you don’t know where to focus.

You feel the desperation and intensity with every move, the sensation overwhelming and eliciting lewd sounds from you. He alternates between moaning and cursing on your cunt and that just adds to the pleasure.

“Eager, aren’t we?” You ask with a smirk.

“You have no idea,” he responds, head buried between your thighs, one of which is currently resting on his shoulder. “Some of my wet dreams may have been because of you.”

“What the fuck Jungkook!”

“I was a growing boy with raging teen hormones!” He says in between breaths. But he doesn’t relent. Fingers curling in your hole, tongue swirling on your clit, and hand squeezing your ass, he’s determined to make you cum now, and with a hard suck, you do.

You jerk away at the oversensitivity with his mouth still on you and you pull him up to give him a kiss, tasting yourself on him.

At the sight of you bare, eyes half-lidded and steadying breath, he stills.

“Is everything okay?” You ask.

“Yeah I just…” He starts, stepping back a bit, and his eyes roam your body, smile creeping up his face. “I never thought I’d get to have you like this. I always admired you from afar and you always felt so out of reach and I…”

“Jungkook,” you stop him.

“I’m here with you right now, barely any distance. I’m not your best friend’s sister, okay?” Your hand reaches out to him and he takes it, let’s you pull him closer. “I’m the girl you like whom you’ll take out on a date after you fuck her senseless. Got it?”

“Y-yeah,” he stammers, a shy laugh escaping him.

You kiss him softly. “No need to admire me from a distance anymore. You have me, right here.”

“Okay.”

And before he can attack you again, you lead him towards your bed. Your fingers pull the waistband of his sweats as you sit on the edge and look up at him, wide eyes eager for something.

“Shirt off,” you say, and he follows.

Your eyes meet your hands that are slowly ridding him of his remaining clothing and you swear you could come again at the sight of the tiger lily tattoo resting on his hip. It curves with his semi-defined v-line, the stem trailing downward, like some pathway to his throbbing dick that’s leaking with some pre-cum.

You take him in your hands and he bucks at the feel of your soft skin around his length that’s aching to be inside you. Your eyes stay on the tattoo; something about it is so hot and you kiss it, lips then exploring the expanse of his hip and up to the part of his torso that you can reach, feeling the ridges of his definitely smooth abs, now tensing at the sensation.

All the while, your hand is stroking his member, up and down as you continue kissing and licking his pelvis and just like this, he already tastes so good. He grunts with your ministrations, head falling back at the intense pleasure. His hands fall to your hair as you take him in, tongue traversing his dick and your heat clenches at the salty taste of cum and the feel of his veins as his shaft twitches in your mouth.

At the vibration caused by your moan, he stops you, removes himself from you and then lays half your body down on the edge of the bed.

“My turn,” he says smugly.

You’re about to protest but he swirls his tongue all over your cunt again, the pad of his thumb flicking your nub and you moan his name instead. You haven’t fully recovered from your first orgasm yet but he seems determined to give you another one. He’s eating you like a man starved, as if he plans to slurp you dry.

“More, Jungkook,” you breathe out, then he’s pumping his dick and thrusting into you, the stretch just a tad bit painful but so, so good.

He quickly adjusts, spreads your legs open for his easy access and the view, and he growls at the supple flesh that's taking him so well. It’s so erotic, watching himself go in and out of you like this, then hearing your deliciously hypnotic moans louden as his hands start kneading your breasts like it’s some dough he’s molding to his liking, his fingers flicking the hardened nipples.

“You feel so fucking heavenly, ___,” he pants. “Fuck, fuck. Can’t believe you’re mine.”

“All yours, Kook,” you respond, delirious now because his movements are really sending you to another dimension. “Fuck me harder,” you beg, and he follows.

He adjusts again, flushing your legs against you and the angle in which his dick hits your sweet spot causes your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

You’re screaming expletives and it’s just urging him to go harder, deeper, faster, his sweat trickling down his temples and forming on his chest.

“Cum for me, baby. I need to feel you,” he huffs.

He’s in a frenzied state and he’s losing himself in you, his mouth now parted and he joins your filthy wails, which are in tune with the sound of skin slapping on skin.

You feel your body spasm and you call out his name before you give in, heart stopping for a moment and he feels the stream of your cum coat his dick that’s just savoring this a bit more.

But you clench and it’s all it takes, his own seed spurting in you and your back arches as he comes down from his high by languidly kissing your breasts, one hand around your lifted waist and the other, intertwining your hand.

“Fuck, you feel so good. So much better than I imagined,” he utters, sounding so winded at the intensity of his orgasm.

He’s too tired to even move, body now resting on top of you, chest heaving and bated breaths escaping him. You massage his head and he moans even at that and you laugh but soften at the intimacy of it all.

He finally gets himself off you and you chuckle as he sneakily opens the door and tiptoes to the bathroom, careful not to be caught naked by your brother. He returns with a wet towel, wipes you, then lays next to you, his arm secured around your waist.

He’s smiling so fondly, lips now peppering kisses all over your face. “You’re stuck with me,” he states.

“Nowhere I'd rather be,” you reply, your own soft kiss now turning greedy again, and you think it’s gonna be a long night.

You wake up tired but you’re not complaining. It was quite the evening, after all, and you’re reminded by the fluff of grey hair adorning your chest. Jungkook likes to cuddle, you’ve learned, and he couldn’t sleep without a part of his body touching you.

You release from his hold and head to the kitchen after washing up, not expecting your brother to already be eating his cereal.

“Oh my god, can you wear shorts?” He huffs.

“Bitch, you’re in my apartment,” you bite back, laughing at the face he makes.

Your front is to the counter when Jungkook approaches and unlike before, heads to you, arms wrapped around your waist from behind and places a kiss on your cheek. “Good morning.”

His voice is hoarse and you hold back a moan because it just brings you back to last night when after you came the second time, he fucked you softly for your third, then fucked you hard for your fourth, then softly again this morning for your (extended) fifth. God, this man will be the death of you.

He nuzzles your neck and you giggle.

“Manners, you two. You’re like teenagers,” Jimin scowls.

“Well, I am living my teenage dream,” Jungkook announces.

Jimin grimaces but softens at the look of his two favorite people looking so happy. “Okay, this is gonna take some getting used to.”

You and Jungkook playfully nod in agreement.

“Also,” he turns to Jungkook who’s now managed to tear away from you. “Are you gonna be here again tonight because you know, I kinda wanna sleep on a bed and all. Couch is great but like, no.”

“You better find your own place soon if you don’t want to keep sleeping there every night,” you reply smugly.

“Okay, now gross!” Jimin, dramatic as always, pretend-gags at the implication. “I’m gonna look for places. Jungkook, you’re still my best friend. We’re going apartment hunting tomorrow.”

“But…” You start.

“No. Nuh-uh. You had him last night and you’re going out on a date today. You need to share my best friend.”

And you all laugh at him throwing a tantrum. He and Jungkook start to bicker and you walk towards your room to grab shorts because it really is awkward when your brother is there.

The doorbell rings as you’re about to walk back and you open the door, a surprised look on your face.

“Hi, is Jimin there?” The person asks.

You head back to the kitchen, your guest in tow and you call out to your brother.

“Chim, someone’s looking for you.”

Jimin looks up and almost falls off the chair.

“Taehyung?” He says, trying to mask the nervous tone of his voice. “I…”

“I have something to confess,” Taehyung cuts him off, eyes nervous but hopeful. “Can we, uhm, maybe talk somewhere else?”

Jimin nods and quickly follows him out.

You walk back to Jungkook and he tugs you close, hands back to your waist. “What’s that about?”

You bite back an excited squeal as you think back to what Taehyung told you at the door.

“Let’s just say, you might not need to help Jimin look for an apartment anymore,” you respond.

Jungkook smiles and pulls you in for a hug, reveling in this absolutely perfect moment.

“You Park siblings drive me crazy, you know that? And you two make me so damn happy.”

masterlist

#jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #brother's best friend #hold me close #oneshot #mine

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mildkleptomaniac · 3 years

Text

same coin, different sides — jj maybank x carrera!reader

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: “ Jj x carrera!reader please! Where reader's proud to be a kook, but she still wants to be friends with the pogues. Jj likes her but he thinks she doesn't like him because she spends a lot of her time with the kooks. Angst with fluff maybe, but whatever you feel more comfortable writing :) ”

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, underage drinking

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: another request! thank you tons! oof, here we go with angst. i hope this is okay, trying to get the feel for writing more angst and fluff! i hope you enjoy 💖

JJ watched Y/N Carrera across the Boneyard, laughing beside some Kooks, more specifically—Rafe Cameron, Topper Thornton, and Kelce. He had mixed feelings for her, they were complicated. How could someone like her spend her time with people like that? What common ground did they share that made Y/N likeable by the Pogues and the Kooks?

JJ knew why he held feelings for her, but anytime he saw her with the Kooks—his gut would twist. Maybe it was jealousy—of who?

Maybe for the fact that Y/N would never date him due to him not having a trust fund, but he would remind himself that she wasn’t like that. She was similar to Kiara in that sense, selfless. She would spend her Friday afternoons during the summer to help give food to the homeless. She willingly spent her Saturday mornings cleaning up the beaches.

Y/N wasn’t like the other Kooks, she worked for a living.

Maybe it was insecurity that he wouldn’t be able to take care of her when she needs it, but all the past times she needed his help proved otherwise. He tried finding flaws to diminish his feelings for Kiara’s sister, but every point he made was debunked by something he admired about her.

JJ took a sip of his drink, eyes still on her.

“You’re staring, man,” John B patted his back, following his gaze to Y/N.

“I just don’t get it,” JJ muttered, refilling his drink from the keg.

“Sometimes you just don’t need to get it. Look at Sarah—”

“Sarah is different. She doesn’t hang out with them.” JJ interrupted. He held a point; Sarah wanted adventure and out of the future that the Cameron’s worked hard to preserve. JJ was sometimes convinced this was just a phase—she wouldn’t want to live the life they have at the end of the day. Maybe he thought Y/N would feel too.

As much as he wanted to go full Kook, wasn’t she already there?

John B’s eyes widened, nodding his head before taking another sip. He didn’t want to deal with this right now, he wanted to enjoy the party. He made his way back to Sarah and some other people. JJ would need to apologize for that later on. Kiara and Pope were sitting beside each other, surrounded by a fire and in too deep to realize the sour mood JJ was putting himself in.

When his eyes fell back on her, she was gone. No longer surrounded by the Kooks, but right beside him.

“Hey JJ, mind filling up my cup?” She offered him a sweet smile. She looked beautiful, he thought. The way her hair was tossed up and the way the sundress complimented her body. On her wrist, she wore some fancy bracelet—but touching it was the string bracelet JJ made for her a few days ago.

He wore the matching one as well.

“Yea, sure,” He was short to her, causing her smile to falter. She handed him her solo cup and he willingly filled it up.

She thanked him for his help, taking a sip and standing there awkwardly. “Do you want to dance?” Y/N asked, jutting her thumb towards the group of tourons dancing. His eyes flickered over her, to the group of people, and to the Kooks hitting on the girls.

“Why don’t you ask your buddies to dance with you,” Her retorted, pursing his lips.

“Because I don’t want to dance with them, I want to dance with you.” She crossed her arms, unsure of why suddenly JJ was treating her like this. Early she was laying in the hammock with him, attempting to toss grapes into his mouth.

“One minute you want to hang out with the Pogues and then another the Kooks. Why don’t you pick a side already?”

At that sentence, Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’re being immature, JJ. You’re creating something that was never there I—”

“I’m not being immature, Y/N. You’re the one being indecisive and it’s confusing me.” He shouted over the music, causing a few stares from people. She chewed on the inside of her lip, before grabbing JJ’s arm and pulling him away from all the people.

“What’s your problem? What did I do to you, JJ?” She questioned him, her hand still on his arm.

“You’re friends with them, you’re friends with us. One day, you’re going to have the same realization that Sarah will have and you’re going to leave us. You’ll have some fancy house and you won’t ever have to lift a finger. Probably Rafe will come home with his stupid ass gelled hair and get to call you his. I don’t want that for you—”

“JJ, why do you care what I want? What separates me from Kie, huh?” The two of them were getting worked up on the shore. The music in the background faded, they were in their own worlds.

“Pogues and Kooks don’t mix! I care about what you want because you’re what I want!” He finally exclaimed and silence fell between the two. “I feel like I’m your second option and I don’t want to be your second option. I want to be the one you’re with at parties. I want to be the one to take you to Midsummer and not some prick who will try to use you at the end of the night.” JJ rambled off, running his hands through his blonde hair. JJ wanted so much more. He wanted to spend nights beside her, getting high and watching movies, to spend more time on the HMS Pogue, to eating together at lunch once school started again. He wanted to wrap his arm around her and show her off.

Look at his girlfriend, Y/N Carrera. She’d be the only one he got at the end of the day.

He didn’t want to make an excuse every time to hang out with Y/N or to invite her along on their adventures.

“And I can’t help but to think you’d pick Rafe over me. So, tell me, Y/N—What do you want?”

She listened to him, wondering if this was some drunken outburst, but she found herself shaking her head at him. She stood there silently, eyes admiring his face.

“Please, say something,” JJ begged.

“Money means nothing to me, JJ. I would rather be broke and…and sleep on a pull-out couch with you—especially if the other option was Rafe Cameron or Topper—even Kelce.” Y/N had a closer relationship with Kelce compared to the other Kooks. She stepped closer to JJ, who stared at her intently, waiting for her to continue speaking. “I want to be happy in life. I want…” She trailed off, looking at him. “I want you.” She stated, heat rising to her cheeks.

“But I also can have friends with other people. Just because I’m friends with some Kooks doesn’t mean that I don’t like you or the Pogues. Once Kie introduced me to you all, I fell in love with every one of you—but especially you.”

They stared at each other for several seconds, “And if you want, you can take me to Midsummers. Just—maybe ask in a better way? Maybe with flowers or anything outside an argument?” Y/N laughed lightly.

“I think I can do that, Y/N/N.” He smiled down at her. “One last question: you won’t go full Kook on me, will you?”

“JJ, I’d only go full Kook with you.” She spoke sincerely, kissing his cheek. “Can we go dance now?” Her voice was soft.

JJ was soft for her.

They intertwined their hands together, arms brushing against each other as they walked back to the party. The music swept the two away, dancing closely together. The two’s laughter could be heard by anyone. Their dance moves were rather ridiculous, but they got closer and closer as all the songs passed.

He pulled her to face him, before pressing his lips against hers. “I forgot to kiss you earlier,” he whispered into Y/N’s ear.

“I was waiting for that, Maybank.” She teased.

Across the Boneyard, Rafe, Topper, and Kelce were shocked at the sight of her dancing with the Pogues instead of them. Kie and Pope nudged Sarah and John B, pointing out the moment her sister had with their friends.

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #( jj maybank )#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x carrera!reader #carrera!reader #outer banks imagine #obx imagines #kook!reader #jj maybank x kook!reader

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lale-txt · 2 years

Note

hello Lale❤ for your milestone event could I have “you have ice cream on your nose.” with Ace please <3 Thank you for taking time!!

hi my dear and more importantly, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! i am so happy that our paths crossed here, i can't tell you that often enough. i am wishing you a calm, wonderful birthday and i hope you feel very loved. since i can't bake you a birthday cake, i've decided to turn your request into a birthday present! hope you enjoy it. i've queued this so you can wake up to this hopefully, hehe. sending you lots of warm hugs! <3

prompt: "you have ice cream on your nose" w/ Ace

word count: 959

When your boyfriend told you that he was gonna take you on a thrilling adventure tonight, you didn't quite expect... this.

"TA-DA!! What do you think, y/n?"

Ace had walked you into his room, his hands covering your eyes so you wouldn't see the surprise he had prepared for you. You could tell that he was really excited, because he was shifting from one foot to the other and babbling about how you're gonna love this, also that it was something he hadn't done in a very long time...

When you opened your eyes, you couldn't quite grasp what you saw. Every piece of furniture had been moved, the bed was now leaning against the wall, the big armchair standing in the middle, there were some poles you have never seen before and on top of that, a huge bedsheet was thrown over the whole mess. It looked as if a childhood dream had just exploded in there.

"I built us a blanket fort!", Ace exclaimed, jumping up and down a little bit and looking at you with pure excitement in his sparkling eyes. He really had golden retriever energy sometimes. "It's even better on the inside, let me show you!"

Your boyfriend grabs you by your hand, dragging you behind him to what probably was the entrance, veiled by a big scarf that was draped over two wooden chairs. A little sign was positioned there, reading "ACE'S & Y/N'S LOVE CAVE" in scrawly handwriting. You can't help but grin widely from one ear to the other. He really put lots of thought into it.

You lower your head a little and follow the fire fist into another world. Was this still the same room you knew in and out or did you just step into a portal when you entered the blanket fort?

The fabric walls were decorated with fairy lights that dipped the room in a warm, dimmed light. Pillows were scattered all over the floor, if you wanted you could flop down anywhere and fall softly into one - even though you'd rather just fall into Ace's arms. He had prepared a tablet on the floor with cut fruit and small bowls of your favorite snacks and also your favorite soda was waiting there for you.

Ace gestured to you to sit down, still overly excited by the surprised look on your face, when a voice from outside shouted: "Special delivery!"

"Let me get that.", the fire fist grinned, pulling aside the scarf at the entrance a little but acting as if he had just strolled through some big mansion to the front door for some luxury delivery - turns out it actually was one.

Thatch was crouched down in front of the blanket fort, holding up a giant ice cream bowl and handing it to your boyfriend. It was not just a simple ice cream bowl, but bigger than your entire face, with two spoons sticking in it. There were colorful sprinkles, whipped cream, cut strawberries and little paper umbrellas for decoration, also two glazed cherries on top. Ace thanked and said goodbye to Thatch with a little formal bow (just like Makino taught him) before carefully balancing the whole thing into your direction, placing it right in front of you.

"Do I spot chocolate ice cream here?", you cooed, already grabbing a spoon and looking your boyfriend stunned in the eyes. "I don't know what I did to deserve all that, but I'm not complaining."

Ace took the other spoon, scooping up a big portion of your favorite ice cream and gesturing you to open your mouth, which you don't have to be told twice. The ice cream melted in your mouth, just as your heart melted for the fire fist snuggled up next to you, watching you with the softest gaze one could imagine. Even though you've been close countless times before, your heart still skipped a beat whenever your shoulders touched, when your fingers intertwined and when he was so close you could count every freckle on his face.

"You deserve the whole world, y/n." Ace smiled and chomped down the portion you held him under his nose. Without speaking, the two of you have started a battle on who can feed the other the biggest scoop of ice cream without getting brain freeze or dropping the whole thing on the ground (the five-second-rule would still apply, right?).

The world, huh? He was your world. He was the sun that crushed down into your cosmos, radiating sunshine into the darkest corners of your soul. He was the moon that lit your way in those lonely nights, leading you right back into his arms. He was your home, your everything.

When he kisses you, the butterflies are still dancing like they did on day one. When he kisses you, the cracks in your soul are filled with liquid gold. When he kisses you, you know that true love exists. Despite everything. You both are here, breathing stardust in unison. It was enough.

You can feel Ace grinning between your kisses, which makes you giggle. He pulls away a little, still holding your face cupped in his both hands.

"What's so funny, you little firecracker?", you quipped, looking up to him with a fake pout that doesn't seem to impress him, but only makes him laugh out more.

"You have ice cream on your nose. It's cute. Makes me want to cover your face with kisses. Maybe other places, too."

"Permission granted.", you breathe as you pull him closer at the collar of his shirt, making you both fall over into a sea of pillows where you will spend the rest of the night having just the thrilling adventure Ace promised you...

#one piece #portgas d. ace #portgas ace x reader #fire fist ace #whitebeard pirates #ace x reader #ace x you #ace x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece reader insert #one piece scenario #3amevent

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

Text

Church (Choi San) Rated

Pairing: Choi San × Reader (Female)

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, College AU, Friends to Enemies(?), Enemies to Lovers (?)

Summary: He used to be her best friend until he abandoned not only his childhood beliefs, but her in the process. One night, he decides to show her a glimpse of what she's been missing out on. Inspired by Chase Atlantic's Church .

Word Count: 6.3+K

Warnings: Mentions of religious beliefs, brazen college parties, allusions to alcohol/nicotine intake, body insecurity (reader has small breasts), oral (female receiving), fingering, nipple play, body worship/praise, slight cumplay, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (always use protection), slight corruption kink, inexperienced reader, experienced San. (Probably forgot something)

Taglist: @little-precious-baby @yunhoiseyecandy @yunhofingers @galaxteez @brie02 @deja-vux @a-soft-hornytiny @multidreams-and-desires @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie

╬╬═════════════╬╬

The infamous rebel let out a pernicious snicker when he saw the serene and usually proper former acquaintance walk in his direction.

"Are my eyes deceiving me or is that really the pastor's prissy little daughter out past her bedtime in a college party?" He found the situation much too amusing that he just had to point it out.

"I have a name you know." The female he was referring to halted in her steps to turn her head and give him an unkind and unfriendly look.

"You have several, actually. There's goody two shoes, priss, prude, prig-"

"Oh shut the fuck up Choi San." She scoffed as she began walking away from him, already feeling annoyed by his presence.

The man trailed after her, his face donning a shocked expression as he flailed his arms around in a dramatic way.

"Guys it's happening! The apocalypse is really here if L/N Y/N has not only attended a wild party full of debauchery, but her mouth has actually uttered out cursed words!" He shouted out, the other attendants either joining in laughing at her or ignoring him in favor of the bottles or sticks in their fingers.

"I'm surprised you even know what that word means." She turned to look at him with a mocking smile, arms crossed over her chest.

"Please, I know a lot more than you have ever pretended to know." He clicked his tongue, elbow coming up to rest on the wall next to him.

"Is that why you turnt corrupt and abandoned everything you believe in?" She couldn't help but spat back at him.

"Hey at least I was honest and didn't hide it like you people who lead double lives. Preaching one thing but living the total opposite. You're all nothing but a bunch of hypocrites." The venom in his voice was unmistakable, nose scrunching up in disgust as he remembered gross sins he had more often than not had witnessed from people who claimed to be pure and holy.

"I do not lead a double life." She remarked.

"Oh really? Then why the hell are you here in a college party? Full of alcohol, drugs and walking STDs? Riddle me that princess." His foot tapped against the floor, patiently awaiting an answer from her.

Y/N swallowed the non existent lump in her throat and turned her gaze to the floor in embarrassment.

"I just wanted to see what it was like. Just once." She admitted begrudgingly, the man in front of her chuckling lowly.

"Well you sure are going to have a lot to confess on Sunday to your dad. Silly girl, walking into the lion's pit like this." He jeered at her.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. Just because I came here doesn't mean I've done anything morally wrong." She counteracted his words to which he only snorted.

"Yet."

Tired of his overly obnoxious attitude, Y/N spun on her heel to get away from him, but she spun so carelessly and fast that she ended up bumping into another classmate who unfortunately was holding a full cup of beer that ended up being doused all over her white blouse.

"Oops! Sorry, my bad." He excused himself, looking completely unapologetic about the situation.

Meanwhile Y/N looked absolutely horrified as she took in the drenched state of her shirt that now had the stench of alcohol on it. The fact San was bursting out in giggles only served to make her even more mad.

"Now tell me how do you plan on explaining that to dear old-"

"Can it San or I swear I'll gauge your eyes out." She threatened him as she stormed out the building, not caring that she bumped into a few figures on her way out.

Feeling just a bit of empathy for his old friend, San sighed softly before following after her. Upon catching up to her, he took hold of her wrist and started dragging her in the opposite direction.

"Hey! Get your filthy hands off me! I will not hesitate to scream!" She tried tugging her arm away.

"Calm down I'm not planning on kidnapping or anything like that sweetheart. I'm taking you back to my car."

She let out a dry laugh at that.

"But that's not kidnapping?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I have a spare shirt in the backseat that you can change into. Unless you wanna go home smelling like PBR." He looked back to see the mess one more time, lips curling up into a smirk.

Against her better judgment, she allowed him to take her all the way where his car was parked, standing there quietly as San rummaged through the backseat before taking out a clean plain white tshirt and held it out to her.

"Here. Put it on."

She looked at him with a face that asked if he was stupid.

"Well what?" He asked.

"Oh yes..I'm totally going to strip in a middle of the street and let anyone passing by see." She rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh for fuck's sake, there's nobody here, nobody is going to see and frankly I don't think anyone cares about seeing your non existent boobs." He scorned at her as he gestured to her chest.

"Ok rude and uncalled for." She felt slightly hurt by his comment, having always been somewhat insecure about the size of her chest.

"Don't look." She warned him.

"Not like I want to." He jeered at her as he turned away to not only give her privacy, but to also serve as a lookout for anyone that might accidentally show up and see the scene. He could hear her behind him tearing off her clothes and then slipping it back on.

"Ok there. I'm done." Y/N announced as she stuffed the soiled shirt into her bag.

"Not even a thank you?" San pouted slightly, to which Y/N gave a feigned smile.

"Thanks."

With that said and done, she brushed past him and started walking away, absolutely done with the night.

"Careful not to get caught sneaking back inside your house." She heard San say from behind.

"For your information I'm not living with them anymore. I moved into the dorms 2 months ago." She stated in a matter of factly, a proud look on her face.

"Well in that case....want to ride back with me?" He offered.

"Yeah no, I'd rather take my chances at being kidnapped and then butchered up. Besides, I wouldn't want to cut your wild night short." She declined the offer.

"Stop being so negative Nancy and accept my generosity. Geez."

Running over to her, he quickly snatched her up and threw her over his shoulder, ignoring her shocked exclaims and protests.

"Now this is really kidnapping!" She declared.

"Yeah I know, now shut up before I duct tape that bratty mouth of yours." San grinned mischievously as he tossed her into the backseat and shut the door before striding over to get on the driver's seat.

"Oh come on. Stop looking at me like I'm a criminal. Just because I indulge in a few sins every now and then, doesn't make me into a bad person." He stated when he saw the dirty look she gave him.

"Whatever." She muttered as she locked in her seatbelt.

San opted for just driving back to the dorms and get Y/N tucked in her bed since it was clear to him she needed it.

╬╬═════════════╬╬

"You're lucky my roommate is on vacation, otherwise I would have left your ass back there." Y/N spewed out as she threw her keys onto her dresser.

"Thanks Y/N, I always said you were the nicest and most giving person in the planet." San complimented her as he felt he should given she was letting him stay the night in her dorm after a little tiny incident with his keys dropping inside one of the manholes surrounding the university. And the administration office wouldn't be open til the morning, meaning he was screwed unless his roommate showed up to let him in, but that was a definite no since San knew Seonghwa would definitely end up in someone else's bed and come back til the next day, hickeys plastered all over his neck and chest.

"No, you always said I was the most stuck up-"

San shushed her by pressing a hand over her mouth.

"You dwell so much on the present image of me you drew up in your head that you completely erased the friend you had all those years ago." He slid his hand off her mouth, shoulders slumping down as he turned away from her to crouch on the floor.

"That friend doesn't exist anymore, that is if he even existed in the first place. If I recall, my friend wasn't into parties, booze, vaping, tattoos, piercings and fucking around with every whore in the school."

San didn't say anything as he heard her ramble, he just let her talk away as she started pulling out spare blankets and pillows for him to use.

"My Sannie was sweet, cute, adorable, always ready to lend people help and respectful to others." She reminisced with a sad look. Pulling her expression straight, she laid out the blankets and started arranging them neatly on the floor.

"I still am."

San's voice was so quiet that she barely registered that he even opened his mouth in the first place, but she heard him.

"Maybe if you weren't so puffed up with pride and didn't cut me off after I cut ties with the church, you'd see that I'm still the way I was. You think I changed completely because of ink and metal on my body? Because I wanted to try certain substances and yes, satisfy some perfectly normal and humane needs?"

Y/N averted her gaze from him and continued the task she was in. San let out a despondent scoff.

"Of course you do. And yet didn't I just demonstrate to you back there that I haven't changed? Giving you my shirt, giving you a ride, yeah I know, it's not much and no big deal, but wasn't those the types of things I'd do even back then?"

Y/N's tongue poked against her cheek as she knew she couldn't deny that was San said was absolutely true. He did nothing different back at the party as he used to do years ago. Helping old ladies with grocery bags, giving away some of his clothes to less fortunate kids, he was always known as being such a giving and kind person.....

No wonder so many were devastated when it was announced he had resigned as a member of the church. Y/N herself was hurt and even indignated by his decision. And after that she adamantly refused to see him or talk to him, and of course San respected her decision and avoided contacting her so as to not make her uncomfortable. He understood that their friendship was broken and he wasn't going to overstep boundaries just to try and fix it when the other party didn't want it. So he just decided to live his life as he thought was right without his conscience bothering him. And he was much happier now, he felt free, something that he had never felt before. Perhaps he was so chained down by formality, discipline, strict regulations and even fear that he didn't realize that he was miserable all that time until his eyes were fully open and he found he didn't like what he saw, especially after seeing the dark and ugly side of what was supposed to be a safe and pure sanctuary. He was let down severely and he suffered in the process. But now that was behind him and he had no regrets......

Except Y/N. He truly missed her and her company. As he laid on the makeshift bed on the floor, he found himself unable to sleep as he recalled all those fond times spent with her. The trips to the lake, hiking, first day of school, their first accident after he had gotten his driver's license. He let out an involuntary smile at that memory. Unbeknownst to him, the girl on her bed was equally reminiscing on the old days filled with her best friend. She had been so alone ever since she distanced herself from him, the world now feeling empty and cold without him. Shifting around in her bed, she whined into her pillow as she desperate tried to sleep.

"What's the worst thing you've ever done?" Her question startled San momentarily.

"Are you that sleep deprived that you're suddenly asking me to confess my worst sins?" He chuckled amusedly.

"Maybe it'll help me get actual sleep, I don't know. And.... I'm just curious." She clutched one of her plushies and started messing around with it.

"Curiosity killed the cat and I don't think your virgin mind will be able to handle my confession." He asserted confidently.

"I'm not a virgin, but oh well. Just tell me, what's the worst?" Her casual response made San flip out. He sat upright and kneeled at the front of her bed with an incredulous look.

"What do you mean you're not a virgin? When did you-?" He was so flabbergasted he wouldn't even finish his sentence.

Rolling over to where he was, Y/N smirked at him.

"Uh uh. I asked you a question first and you have to answer it before I can answer any you want."

Knowing he had no alternative, San placed his chin on the top of her mattress.

"Had a threesome with 2 of our professors." He laughed when he saw how shocked Y/N looked.

"What?! No way!" She refused to believe him.

"It's true. I won't tell you who they were since you won't be able to look at them the same way if I did...... I'll just dish this: they both got really huge tits and it's a shame they're married." He admitted with a smug expression.

"I can't believe you." She fanned her face which she was sure was now a deep crimson color.

"Ok now your turn. When did this happen? Who was it with?"

Y/N didn't even mind that San got up and crawled into her bed to lay down next to her. His face was rested on his hands as he looked at her with intense inquisitiveness. Knowing she'd have to talk about it sooner or later, she thought it would be best if San was the one to know since he would never tell anyone else and he'd understand since he was tainted as well.

"Remember when that group of missionaries came to stay over at our city for a while back in high school?"

San nodded, vividly remembering everything. Y/N blushed and smiled shyly.

"Do you remember that there was a family with a son our age? Chase?"

San widened his eyes and flopped over on his back as his hands came to hide his face.

"Oh dear lord, please don't tell me it was that Canadian boy." He groaned in pain.

"Yeah....yeah it was."

San couldn't stop cringing at the thought of his friend doing such a thing.

"How even did that happen?" He was so lost.

"I don't know! It just did ok? It happened while we were out in that camping trip. Somewhere there, we were left alone and we started talking about everything and nothing til it spiraled into talking about sex and us being virgins decided to see what was the big deal....." She bit her lower lip as the memory flashed in her mind. Looking over at San, she knew he was judging her as she expected. A tiny snort escaped his lips.

"That must have been the worst 45 seconds of your life." He joked, earning him a slap on his chest by Y/N's hand.

"It was not 45 seconds!............. it was 2 minutes."

San only laughed harder at that, nearly crying from how funny it was to him. He composed himself though when he saw how embarrassed Y/N looked about it. Feeling bad for laughing at her expense, he cleared his throat and patted her head.

"It's ok. First times are always awkward and uncomfortable. The problem was you weren't prepared and you were both inexperienced. He just didn't know how to please you."

Y/N couldn't help herself as she asked:

"And I suppose you can?"

Flipping onto his stomach, San cupped her chin with his hand and ran his thumb across her lower lip.

"Don't tread on dangerous territory little angel lest you want an evil demon to corrupt you." He warned her, and although he wouldn't actually follow through on it, he did want to tease her a little. But he wasn't expecting for Y/N to play along to his teasing, only she was not joking at all as she brought her face closer to his.

"Maybe I want you to corrupt me, show me what I've been missing out on." She brushed her lips against his, tongue daring to poke out and press on his slit briefly, leaving him stunned.

"You have no idea what you're asking for princess." San mused as he held himself back from touching her.

"I know what I'm asking for Choi San and what I'm asking for....is you." She responded with confidence.

Escaping from underneath the blanket that covered her, Y/N reclined back on the mattress, her head laying on her soft pillow as she gestured for San to come over to her, which he promptly did. Parting her legs so he could fit his body between them, he smirked softly down at her eagerness, fingers brushing against the soft skin on her thighs.

"You're serious about this?" He wanted to make sure it wouldn't be something she'd regret.

"I already messed up once, what's one more time gonna do?" She pulled him down against her, not caring when he lost balance and accidentally crushed her under him with his muscular body.

"Besides...." Wanting to further entice him, Y/N brushed her lips against his ear.

"Look at me and tell me you don't want to fuck me. That you don't want to stuff that hard cock of yours into my tight and inexperienced pussy. Bet you're itching to tear into me until I'm crying under you. Don't you want that?"

San let out a moan at hearing such filthy and depraved talk from her. It only fueled his appetite and hunger for indulging in carnal desires.

"Yes... I want that.... I want you."

Closing space between them, San molded his lips over hers, encasing them in a sloppy and wet kiss. Y/N could faintly make out the leftover scent of alcohol and nicotine as she let him taste her mouth, but she didn't mind or felt grossed out by it. She just kept her lips parted and allowed him to move his tongue freely inside her. Cupping her cheeks, San continued to roll his tongue over hers, massaging it gently with both deep yet gentle strokes. When he pulled away, he made sure to tuck her bottom lip between his teeth, pulling it towards him as Y/N let out a moan that was like music to his ears. Pausing briefly, their lips were barely touching as they breathed in each other's air. San was the first one to break into a smile, the one that had Y/N melting since it displayed his dimples to the fullest.

"Never thought I'd hear that sound come out of your pretty mouth." He teased her.

"S-shut up." She frowned, hand reaching up to smack his chest.

"It's not a bad thing. I like it. Now let's see if I can make sure you keep them up."

Stuffing his face into her neck, San ghosted his lips across her skin, tongue subtly poking out solely to hear her breath hitch slightly. Dipping his tongue into her collarbone, his lips opened up so they could firmly latch and spread wet kisses across her neck. Y/N gasped when she felt teeth sink down, head tilting back to give San more room which he took advantage of. Focusing on particular spots that he knew she was sensitive in, he sucked her skin into his mouth. Each time he pulled away, he reveled when he saw the finished mark that was now painted on her skin.

"I would love to see your parent's reaction to my love bites." He brushed a fingers across the newest spot he just embedded in her body, hand then reaching up to suddenly clasp around her neck. Y/N shuddered when his grip got tighter, her oxygen intake getting cut and making her feel hazy, but it was nonetheless enjoyable. Snaking a hand under her shirt, or more like his shirt, San swiped his tongue over his bottom lip as he started to pull the material up.

"How about I make some matching ones all across your pretty chest?"

Before he could lift the shirt any further, Y/N's hand clasped around his wrist, preventing him from moving any further.

"Don't." She begged him.

San retracted his hands away from her, fearing he made her uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry." He immediately apologized and began to move away from her, but Y/N's hands raked against his thighs to keep him in place.

"No, it's not you. It's just..... if we're going to do this, can I keep the shirt on? I don't...." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she admitted an insecurity of hers.

"I don't like my chest. My boobs are too small, it's unflattering and I'd rather you not see them." She slowly opened her eyes to see his reaction. San had a sad look on his face, bottom lip poking out as his fingers came up to brush against her cheek. Remembering what he had previously said back in the parking loyal, he felt terrible for saying that ill intended joke about her body. He probably hurt her and he didn't realize it.

"Y/N don't say that. Your chest size doesn't matter. You're beautiful the way you are and I bet underneath that layer is clothing there is the cutest and most adorable set of boobs in the world." She let out an involuntary giggle at his words, letting him run his hand down her clothed sternum.

"But if that's what you want, I'll respect it. Either way, my tshirt looks amazing on you." He acknowledged rather cockily.

Shifting further back, San took hold of the top of her shorts, making sure to look at her.

"Are you ok with these coming off?"

Y/N resisted the temptation to slap the top of his head.

"If you don't take them off, how are you going to fuck me genius?" She retorted.

"You'd be surprised at what I've learned." He uttered, mostly to himself than at her.

Like an expert, he practically tore her shorts down her legs, panties falling to the floor along with them. Y/N let out a soft squeal when he took hold of her thighs and brought her down so his face was at eye level with her most intimate part. San took a few seconds to admire her bare mound, lips parted and threatening to start drooling all over her thighs. Pressing both thumbs against each one is her lips, San pried her folds open, staring intently as he now clearly saw all of her.

"Oh fuck. I'm gonna need to prep you real good. I can tell you're going to be really tight."

She wanted to ask him what he meant by prep, but her words got caught in her throat when she felt his tongue delve into her core. She had never felt someone's mouth anywhere near her folds and she regretted not having experienced it before. Her eyes shut tight as she marveled at the sensation of San's tongue lapping at her bud, his lips making sure to enclose all around the flesh surrounding it before giving it gentle suckles. Shaky breaths blew out from her mouth, her legs wanting to close themselves around San's head but his firm grip on her thighs kept it from happening. He kept her knees pinned to the bed as his mouth continued to ravish at her taste, sloppily consuming her heat fervently. Her mind was so occupied in what he was doing that she didn't register the hand that slowly crept away from her thigh until she felt something poke at her entrance.

"Oh-" She gasped, opening her eyes to see what was going on.

"Relax princess. It's just my finger.....for now." He momentarily pulled off her heat to let her know what was happening before diving back in to continue his task of eating her out.

His finger inside her felt a little weird at first, sliding in slowly before pulling out only to plunge itself back into her. During one of those times where she expected him to slide back in, she was surprised when she felt herself being stretched out as San curled a second finger inside her. Keeping them lodged there, he began scissoring them alternatively so he could further spread her walls apart. During one of those movements, his fingertips brushed along her hood, making her hips slightly jolt up into San's face, who smiled against her folds as he now knew exactly where to angle his hips for later. Using this new knowledge, that was probably unbeknownst to Y/N, he slipped his fingers deeper into her, knuckles deep as he moved his tips rhythmically on the the spot he found. Y/N's mouth fell wide open into an 'O' as whiny gasps and airy moans poured out of it. San's mouth latched to her clit and his fingers working deep in her hole was producing a stirring in the lower pit of her stomach that she couldn't quite make out. But it felt good, especially since it continued to grow more and more, almost as if it was a cord about to snap.

"San- wait. I feel, I feel-" She couldn't finish her sentence as her body trembled slightly, a flood of overwhelming pleasure washing over her that was prolonged by San drinking up the juices that spilled forth out of her body. He didn't pull away until he made sure to swallow every drop she had to give.

"Aren't you grossed out?" She asked him, always having wondered about that.

"Nope. I love licking girl's pussies, especially if they're as sweet as yours." He affirmed while pulling his shirt off his body.

Y/N turned her flustered face away from him, keeping her gaze locked on the wall to her right, which was decorated with several polaroids of her with her family, friends and members of her church, some of them even had San in them, back when they were inseparable. Before she could become nostalgic, a strong set of hands clutched her chin and teared her gaze away from the pictures, forcing her to stare at the now naked man in front of her.

"Forget about that for now. Right now I want your full attention on me and what we're about to do. After we're done, that image of a good girl you have will gone." His words seemed to almost taunt her.

Although she tried not to look, Y/N's eyes fell in between San's legs, filled with astonishment when she glimpsed for the very first time at her former friend's member, fully erect and leaking at the tip as it awaited to be hugged by her warm walls.

"Like it? Maybe later I'll let you play with it." San giggled when her eyes shot up at him in surprise.

Placing himself to hover above her, he hummed lowly as he slowly stuffed himself inside her, working her open until he was fully nestled inside her warmth. Although she felt a light burn scraping against her inner walls, it wasn't unpleasant or painful like her first time. She could tell San knew exactly what he was doing as he began rolling his hips. Perfectly recalling exactly where to aim at, he made sure to angle his thrusts accordingly so each time he pushed back in, he'd hit her pleasure spot.

"Oh God-" Y/N exclaimed when he continued to brushed against the hood of her core.

"Really think it's a good idea to call out the good lord's name when I'm balls deep inside your pussy?" He asked with a malicious smirk plastered across his face.

"No baby. Tonight your only lord is me."

Pinning her wrists above her head, San continued pushing his cock deeper into her. The harsh pounding of his hips against hers was becoming louder, their bodies starting to get heated and producing sweat. Y/N couldn't do anything but whimper and wrap her legs around San's waist, keeping him firmly locked to her body. She closed her eyes once more as she felt the same familiar feeling from before start piling up, only it felt more intense and stronger probably due to the fact that she was getting railed to her bed by her ex best friend, whom she still cared about deeply. She was definitely not planning on making up with him this way, but holy hell, she couldn't deny that he was making her feel so many emotions at once. Pleasure, lust, satisfaction, happiness, euphoria, love? Perhaps that last one was definitely a stretch, but she blamed her confused thoughts on how well his cock was abusing her hole. She felt unable to focus on anything except him.

"Clenching so hard around me babygirl. Are you gonna cum all over my cock?"

Slipping one hand in between their bodies, San pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing it back and forth so it would serve as an extra push to tip her over the edge. Y/N splayed her hands on San's lower back, nails raking against his skin, causing him to hiss.

"Fuck- am I seriously making you feel that good babygirl?" He knew for a fact he was feeling absolutely amazing, her tight warmth gripping along his shaft, making it hard for him to hold back much longer.

"Mmm yeah." She shamelessly moaned.

"Am I better than your first?" Although he already knew the answer, he still wanted to feed his ego and hear her say it.

"So much better! It feels so fucking good." She inhaled sharply when that she began to feel the sensation from before. With even louder cries from before, her body shook underneath San's, blood rushing to her head as an even greater orgasm coursed through her body. She was left speechless, a full on panting mess even after San had pulled out of her after helping her ride out her high.

"Oh geez. Shit." San's voice rasped out as he jerked himself off, his cum painting her thighs white, not stopping until he had finished coating them with everything he had to give.

Looking down at the mess, Y/N couldn't suppress a tiny giggle, one of her hands clasping over her mouth while the other picked up some of his cum and spread it between her fingers.

"Having fun there?" San grinned, finding her fascinated gaze to be completely adorable to him.

"Yeah.." She said as sat up to get a better look at the cum around her thighs.

"Well I was going to clean it off you, but seeing as you're so entertained by it, I'll just leave you with it."

Not forgetting that he was merely a guest, San slid himself off her bed and plopped his tired body onto the blankets on the floor. Closing his eyes, he was thinking he would finally be able to sleep, but he found his plans thwarted when he felt a pair of hands graze across his chest. Looking up, he found Y/N straddling his lap, biting down on her lower lip as she grinded her wet folds along his softened dick which was now becoming hard again thanks to her.

"What in the world are you doing you crazy girl?" He sucked in a breath, not expecting her to suddenly pounce on him.

"I wanna try that again." She pleaded, grinding her hips harder on him.

"Oh my- did I accidentally turn you into a nymphomaniac?" She chuckled at his joke and although he groaned as if he was frustrated, he obliged to her wishes and sat up.

Clasping her waist with his hands, he lifted her up and guided her so she could easily sink herself down on his length. Not letting go, he slowly rolled his hips up, burying himself deep in her body once more. Since they were both still riled up from their previous session, it didn't take long for both of them to start spewing out a clutter of moans and grunts as they once again get lost in a mist of lust that clouded their minds. San drunk up every expression on Y/N's face. Every twitch of her facial muscles, every shuddering breath she exhaled, each time her eyelids shut close, he marveled at seeing her enjoy the experience. He loved seeing her indulge in such an intimate practice with him, more so given how special she was to him, one of the most important people in his life aside from his family. Looking down at her torso, his fingers brushed along the hem of her shirt.

"Please...." His urging caught her attention.

"Please let me see all of you. I want to admire every inch of you and your beautiful body. I promise I won't laugh or judge. I just want to worship you."

Y/N hesitated briefly, still afraid to let him see what was hidden under the shirt.

"It's ok if you don't want to. I won't force you." He shot a kind smile at her as he focused back on making sure to drive his cock up into her.

Feeling safe and knowing she could trust her lifelong friend whom she thought of as a soulmate at one point, Y/N reached for the bottom of her shirt and peeled it off her body. Coming face to face with her bare chest, San groaned in ecstasy as he slid his hands up her body.

"Just as I predicted, you have very cute breasts."

Pulling her chest to his face, he opened his mouth and took one of her nipples in it, swirling his tongue around it before sucking on it. Y/N's fingers raked themselves through his hair, harshly tugging them when she felt his teeth sink themselves into her flesh.

"Aren't they too small?" She inquired.

Letting go of her breast with an audible pop, San cupped her chin.

"No baby, they're absolutely perfect. They're gorgeous, just like every other part of your body. You're gorgeous, absolutely stunning and holy fuck, you're driving me insane honestly." He confessed, his mouth diving into her other breast so it wouldn't feel left out from being tenderly kissed and sucked on.

His words sunk deep in Y/N's heart. He really did found her beautiful, attractive and it spurred something in her. Feeling a newfound passion, Y/N unconsciously began taking over their movements. Pushing against his thrusts, she began to set her own pace, rutting herself on top of his dick. San of course took notice and was happy about it.

"Oh wanna take over now baby? Well go ahead."

Laying back down on the floor, his eyes stared up at her with lust.

"Fuck yourself on me darling."

Encouraged by him, Y/N began bouncing herself on his cock. Finding an angle that she liked, she sunk down on his length over and over, her head thrown back as she used his body to push her down another spiral of immense pleasure. San just relaxed and admired the way she lost herself and gave into her deepest desires. He loved the way she rode his cock, and he loved feeling her walls tighten once more around his shaft.

"Oh shit- Sannie." She cried out his name as she quivered on top of him, her juices spilling out onto his cock once more.

Knowing fully well she was probably aching between her thighs, San gripped her hips and helped her ride out her climax so the feeling she was going through wouldn't go away just yet. He made sure to be gentle, easing her up and down his cock with absolute tenderness. Once he knew she was satisfied, he pulled her of him and set her down on the floor before sitting up above her body. Just like before, he took hold of his cock and began pumping his cum out of his body, plastering it all across her inner thighs and even splattering some on her stomach. Looking up, Y/N had the same giggly expression as before.

"Does my cum really make you burst into a fit of giggles?" He questioned her.

"I can't help it. It's just... I don't know. Maybe it's the fact it's so dirty and wrong, and then to have you spread it all over my body." She explained, which made San chuckle.

"Maybe I should baptize your thighs with my cum more often." Although he was joking, Y/N was more than willing to take him up on that offer.

"Will you?" She looked up at him with puppy eyes.

San studied her for a moment, before a wicked idea popped in his brain.

"How about you let me baptize and stain that pretty face of yours?"

Getting a hint of what he meant, Y/N got up on her knees while San stood up right in front of her, cock in hand as he brought it up to her lips.

"I hope you weren't planning on going to morning services tomorrow because I'm going to keep you up til morning until your knees hurt."

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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

Note

I know your requests are closed but in case you reopening them, can you do Taehyung + #11 from Part I prompts pleaseeeee🥺🥺🥺

Prompt: “Oh no, there is only one bed, what will we do now?”

Pairing: Taehyung x female reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: unprotected sex

A/N: This request was supposed to be one of the lasts but I got inspired for this prompt hehe so enjoy! Sorry it’s a little longer than the others!

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

Taehyung drops his suitcase to the floor, exhaling a deep, frustrated breath as he eyes the room.

“Oh no, there is only one bed, what will we do now?” he huffs out, rolling his eyes to the back of his head. “I already have to go on this fucking trip with you, then we have to share a room…and now there is only one fucking bed. Of course.” He complains with a dark expression with a harsh blush on his cheeks. You don’t notice though.

You feel your own anger bubble over but you decide to laugh. Yes, you laugh because this whole situation is one cruel joke from the universe. This earns a look of disapproval from Taehyung. He shakes his head at you as you continue to chuckle, you not totally or completely caring about his judgements. You would be in this complete shit show with none other than Kim Taehyung. Your nemesis.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” He states and you give him a pointed look.

“What couch? Taehyung look at this piece of shit room. We only have the bed and a chair.” You point out knowingly, “You can sleep on the floor though.”

“Like hell I am sleeping on the god damn floor.” He is pissed you would even suggest such a thing. “I’ll sleep on one end and you on the other.”

“Afraid I have cooties?” you ask with a smirk and he rolls his eyes at you, quite hard.

“Something like that.” He spits out, grabbing his suit case off the floor and setting it on the bed. “I’ll shower first.” He unzips his luggage and pulls out some of his belongings.

“Fine.”

You and Taehyung have been working together post college, you knew him in university though…quite well. You two were always in ongoing competitions in your classes—and you shared a lot of classes. You and he never quite got along, you two always finding something to argue about instead.

Then you both happened to apply to the same job and both got accepted…only furthering your ongoing competition of one upping another. You try to stay out of his hair though…you are aware you two don’t get along well….too much tension. And you are an adult now with an adult job that you take seriously, so you try to avoid Taehyung.

Unfortunately, your boss paired you two together for an overnight trip, and your company didn’t have the budget for two rooms—just the one. Taehyung offered to pay for another room but apparently the hotel only has the one, so here you two are with one room and one bed.

You place your own luggage on the bed and begin taking out your bed time clothes, your shampoo, your conditioner and your body wash. It’s been like, 30 minutes and he still in the bathroom. You sit on the bed and wait patiently, scrolling through your phone and mindlessly watching YouTube videos when finally Taehyung exits the bathroom.

You don’t even look at him as you stand from the bed with your things, you turn to head towards the bathroom, walking through the small room. Really your company couldn’t do better than this?

“There better be hot water, Taehyung.” You throw the comment over your shoulder and you hear Taehyung snicker from behind you.

“I guess you’ll find out.”

You force yourself to take a nice, deep breath trying to calm your nerves. Kim Taehyung is always trying to get on them any way he can. While you try to ignore him, he always makes his presence known.

“You’re such a child. I feel bad for you girlfriend.” You close the bathroom door with a little bit of force.

Your shower was…not freezing, at least. But you prefer it a bit on the warmer side. You clean the fogged up mirror with a towel and take a good look at yourself. You look tired, just plain tired. You dry off completely and slip on your panties and a bralette, they’re cute and comfortable.

You’re about to pull your t shirt over when you catch something in the corner of your eye. A mother fucking roach. You feel your whole body crawling with them as you stare at the one bug. You yelp out, throwing your t shirt over the bug…this causes Taehyung to rush to the bathroom door and ask what’s wrong over and over.

“y/n??? Hey, you okay???” his panicked voice goes unnoticed by you as you back into the bathroom door. “Unlock the door!” he begins rattling the doorknob, trying to get it open.

You finally notice the door shaking, and his stressed voice on the other side. Without thinking you hurry to unlock the door and open it. Taehyung’s eyes expand at least 4 times their size as he eyes you. You’re basically naked!

“Where the fuck are your clothes?” Taehyung stutters as he speaks, his eyes raking your half naked body.

“Roach! Roach!” you yell, pointing at the direction of your t shirt. “He’s there! He’s under my shirt!!!” you can’t help but walk impossibly close to Taehyung, grabbing a hold of his bicep with one arm while your other points down across the bathroom.

Taehyung feels himself freeze under your touch, your small hand trying to wrap itself around his arm. He tries to pull himself together though, slowly pulling your hand away from him.

“It’s under your shirt?” he asks quietly. “Why the fuck would you throw your shirt over it?” He can’t help the amused smile that paints itself on his face.

Taehyung walks towards the shirt and slowly lifts it up, his eyebrows begin climbing to the top of his forehead as he notices no sign of any roach.

“Uh oh.” He says calmly.

“Uh oh, what?” You walk closer to him, staying behind him as your arms go to grab both of his arms. “What?” You whine.

“It’s gone.” He says, then he shakes the T shirt around, but no bug falls out. Then he’s turning around to face you and his face goes unbelievably red.

“Here, put this one.” He throws the shirt at you and you jump back, your face gone pale.

“As if I am wearing that now!” you say as your voice cracks. You pinch your brows together as you think of what to do. “I don’t have any other shirts…” you pout and Taehyung looks at you and rolls his eyes.

“Just wear the god damn shirt, y/n.”

“No….” you frown at him and he almost feels bad for you. “I don’t want to sleep with the shirt a bug just touched.

“You are so ridiculous.” He scoffs, “I have an extra t shirt…although I don’t know which shirt you would avoid mo—”

“I’ll take the shirt!” you cut him off with an excited smile and he raises a brow at you.

“Really?” he walks past you in the bathroom, his shoulder bumping yours and you feel the heat rush to your cheeks.

“Well…it’s almost on the same level as the bug shirt but yeah, I’ll take it,” you lightly tease.

“Fine. But also can you please, I mean, please put some pants on…” Taehyung walks into the room, takes out his luggage and pulls out an extra shirt. You follow him in the room and catch the shirt when he throws it over to you.

“Thanks…” You mumble. You begin to pull it over your head, sniffing it as you do so. It smells like him. Something soft, yet deep. A scent you can’t find anywhere else.

“Let’s just try to sleep now.” Taehyung pulls back the covers and slips inside the bed. You on the other hand look at him like he is crazy.

“You think I can fall asleep with a roach on the loose?” you whisper shout, like as if the bug might hear you.

“You’ll have to try.” He mumbles lamely.

You huff out a short puff of air as you walk closer to the bed. Fine, you will try to fucking sleep. You pull back your side of the covers and get into the bed, pulling the sheets and blanket close to your face. You turn on your side, your back facing Taehyung and hide your nose and chin inside the t shirt. You feel yourself getting lost in its scent.

Maybe 20 minutes or so passes when you notice how restless Taehyung is…he keeps moving around, sighing out and lightly groaning. You are having a hard time falling asleep too but jeez, he is fucking dramatic. You decide to make conversation even though he will probably tell you to fuck off.

“Thanks for saving me earlier.” You whisper, turning yourself to lay on your other side, facing Taehyung.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” He says instead of ‘you’re welcome’.

“What?”

“Earlier you said you feel bad for my girlfriend.” He turns on his side to face you, “But I don’t have one? So, I don’t know why you said that.”

“Aren’t you dating that girl you are always with? You guys are always at the coffee maker, giggling and shit.”

“Wait…Pauline?” he starts chuckling. “She’s cool. We have a lot in common…like, girls.” He continues to laugh as you get the hint.

“Oh.” You say, blinking up at the ceiling. “Well, even if it’s not her, I’m sure you have someone.”

“Why are you so concerned with my dating life?” Taehyung scoots a little closer to you. “You hate me. So why do you care?”

“You are the one who hates me. Not the other way around.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you before he starts shaking his head over and over. He slowly closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath.

“No. You hate me.” He says matter of fact. “I don’t hate you.”

“You so do hate me!”

“Well, I only hate you because you hate me!”

“But I don’t hate you!” You begin to sit up in bed, the blankets falling down your body. “You are annoying, yes. But I don’t hate you.”

Taehyung sits up in bed as well, he crosses his arms over his chest and exhales a deep breath.

“So you don’t hate me? I don’t hate you? Then why are we always fighting?”

“I don’t know, we have been fighting since college…I don’t know what else to do with all this energy I have for you.” You admit.

“Energy?” Taehyung tilts his head, “You mean, the tension?”

“Yeah.” You gulp. “The tension. This tension means we fight, right?”

“Well, what else could it mean?”

You swallow down the lump in your throat as you sit here…you know exactly what I could mean but you aren’t about to admit that right now. Taehyung has to know too, right? He isn’t that dumb is he?

“y/n…” he says your name differently than he has ever said it…like as if he had practiced to say it that way and he finally got to say it out loud. The softness in his voice is mesmerizing, his usual bite gone altogether.

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss—”

“Yes.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen at how quickly you respond, his mouths fall open and his heart starts racing. He really though you hated him…he really thought he had no chance…he really thought that hating you back was the only way for you two to have any sort of relationship.

“Be honest with me.” He begins, scooting even closer to you. “Have you thought about me before? Kissing you?...Touching you?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me how it started.” He grows warmer just talking to you like this. “Please.” His deep voice somehow goes lower with every word he speaks to you.

“Back in college…” You gulp, “You and I had a group presentation…I wanted to be in charge. But you kept talking over me—”

“Sorry…”

“I went home that night so angry, that the only thing that could calm me was to touch myself. And your stupid face is all I could think of.”

“Was that the only time you touched yourself thinking about me?” Taehyung’s hand crawls up your arm, until his hand is at your jaw.

“No.” you admit, your breathing becomes unsteady. “That was just the first.”

Taehyung’s thumb brushes against your cheek and you feel yourself grow impatient. You want him to kiss you. You want him to touch you. Years and years of pent up frustrations—

“When was the last time—”

“Shower.” You rush to say. “My mind was going crazy at the thought of sharing a bed with you.”

Taehyung smirks at you, his long fingers still at your jaw, he tightens his hold and he begins leaning into your space.

“Do you want me y/n?”

You feel your entire body shiver, you feel goosebumps rise on your skin and you feel the heat creep all over your body.

“Yes Taehyung.”

His lips crash into yours, they move against you with rushed desperation. Your hands immediately go to his hair, tugging on the strands, somehow pulling him even closer to you. You can’t help the moan that escapes your poor, weak body as his hands explore you. They start at your jaw but are soon traveling down your body. He cups your breasts in his hands, you groan when he squeezes them. Then you feel his fingertips graze down your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your shorts.

“Can we take these off?” Taehyung asks between kisses. “Please.”

“But you practically begged for me to put them on earlier.” You smirk as you kiss him back with passion.

“And I’ll beg for you to take them off.” He smiles in your kiss and you can’t help but roll your hips to his little idea.

“C’mere.” He guides you by the hips to straddle his lap. Your legs on either side of his as you start moving your hips back and forth, you can feel his member growing beneath you with every roll of your hips.

“Take it out on me.” He says between his erratic breaths. “How angry I have made you. I want you to take it out on me.”

“Okay.” You agree easily, your hand going to his throat. You squeeze lightly as you start riding his clothed dick. You grind into him, hard and fast. He meets you half way, thrusting up, his hard member rubbing against your clit so deliciously.

You look down at him, your eyes meeting his when he smirks at you. God, he looks so good like this. He’s totally fucked out, sweat dribbling down the side of his forehead, his tongue continuously darting out to wet to puffy lips.

“I need you.” You pant out, “Right now.”

Taehyung nods his head in understanding. He stops his hips from moving, lifts you up slightly as you both work on dragging his shorts and briefs down. His cock bounces off his lower abdomen in freedom, his swollen member leaking with precum. You rush to take your shorts and panties off and go back to his lap.

“Condom?” He asks, out of breath.

“Are you clean? I’m on birth control…plus, I’m clean.” You say quickly, the anticipation killing you.

“Yes, I’m all good.” He grabs his cock in his hand and starts pumping himself. “Now, please.” He whines.

You nod, hovering over his length, replacing his hand with yours as you take a deep breath before you are sinking down onto it. You whimper at the feeling since he is so big. He’s long, he’s thick and he is destroying you just by entering you.

“You okay?” His hand goes to cup your jaw and you try to nod your head. “Take your time.”

“You’re so fucking big…” you sink lower and lower, his cock filling you to the brim. “But it feels so good.” You say between rough breaths.

“You feel incredible, y/n….” his hands goes to your hips and he begins to help raise you up, you lift yourself off his length and slam back down. You are finally getting adjusted to his size that you’re able to rise and fall on his cock over and over.

Taehyung’s hands go to your ass cheeks, he squeezes them as he helps you rise and sink on his cock, your thighs burning as you ride him faster and faster. Your hand finds its way back to his throat and you push him back on the bed. He lays down as you ride him, his moans and your moans filling in the small space of the room.

“Fuck…so tight.” He slams his eyes shut as you make him feel so fucking good. “y/n…y/n…” He starts chanting your name.

“Help me…” you fall forward, your chest hovering over his as you start kissing him. Your tongue pushes past his lips and he tangles his tongue with yours immediately. Taehyung begins thrusting forward from beneath you. He fucks into you so hard and so fast that your vision starts to blur. He is hitting your spot with every brush of his dick and it just intensifies when you feel his fingers on your clit.

“I’m gonna come Taehyung…” you warn him, your erratic breathing hitting his face. “So fucking close…please don’t stop.”

Taehyung opens his eyes to look at you, he fucks you harder now. The sounds of his skin slapping your skin making this sound all the more filthy. He moans over and over because he is also so close.

“Where should I come?” He pants out, “Tell me now!” his body begins to tense as you reach back and fondle his balls. “Oh fuck!!” he screams, “y/n! y/n!”

“Inside me.” You lean down and kiss the side of his neck.

Taehyung thrusts so fucking quickly before he is stilling his desperate hips and shooting his cum inside you. His eyes shoot open as he comes, his body wanting to give out on him but he endures. He squeezes his eyes shut as he starts fucking you harder again, his fingers rubbing tight circles on your bundle of nerves. Your high pitched moans making Taehyung feel high as fuck. You finally yell out, whimpering in his ear as you come undone all over his cock, creaming it and soaking it. You feel your orgasm hit you so fucking hard that you collapse on top of Taehyung’s body. He wraps his arms around you and holds you tightly, your sweaty bodies mingling together.

“Wow.” You say, out of breath.

“Yeah, wow.”

Taehyung slowly slips his softening member out of you and winces, the feeling alone so overwhelming. He rolls your bodies over until you are both on your sides facing one another, he smiles at you and you feel yourself go shy.

“Just to be clear…you don’t hate me, right?” You ask.

“Does it look like I hate you?” he teases, reaching out and putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “I think we have a lot of years to make up for.”

“I don’t want this to be just about sex.” You say quietly. Taehyung’s eyes go wide at your words before he is smiling for you again.

“That wasn’t my intention.” He admits, “Maybe a date first?”

“Or a few.” You joke.

“We have years to make up for y/n, so it’ll be more than just a few dates.” He leans over and kisses your forehead.

“Are you still going to be annoying at work?” you stick your tongue out, Taehyung rolls his eyes playfully at you.

“It’s just healthy competition” he leans forward and kisses your lips this time. “And if I make you mad you can always just…take it out on me…” another kiss.

“You should make me mad more often then.”

"You mean even more mad?" He laughs.

"Yes."

#ask game #prompts #bts #bts fluff #bts smut #kim taehyung #Taehyung x reader #Taehyung fluff #Taehyung smut

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

Season 16 (Part 1)

Summary: After being captured by Michael while Dean was under his control, the reader has spent a very long time locked away waiting for someone to come and find her. When the day finally comes that the door opens, it’s not a familiar face she’s greeted with. Somehow the impossible is standing right in front of her but there’s no time to think about that. Something is terribly wrong and the reader needs the help of this strange young man if she wants to stop what Michael’s put in motion and have a chance at seeing Dean alive again...

Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x reader

Square: Free Space

Word Count: 3,600ish

Warnings: language, SPN season 15 and series spoilers, injury, mention of main character deaths, mention of torture, angst, fluff

A/N: This series takes place post season 15 and follows canon (i.e. if it happened in the show, it happened in this story’s universe). This series is told between the reader and Dean’s POV. This was also written for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me A Story bingo!

________

Reader’s POV

You just about had a heart attack when the door opened. It’d been such a long time since it’d been opened. Years and years and years. You’d lost track of the days quickly but it was long enough for you to accept that it’d been a very long time. Long enough to accept that when Michael took over Dean and threw you down in the windowless little room, Dean didn’t win that fight.

The only thing keeping you going aside from the spell Michael had put up to keep you permanently trapped, body stuck in time, was the desire to save Dean. Or what was left of him. You’d been alone for years, body having taken a beating by Michael when he first captured you. You were still covered in bruises, broken ribs that wouldn’t heal, pain in every breath. You didn’t sleep, didn’t eat. Solitude, cut off from the world, that was your main form of torture. Dean though...who knew what hell he was going through trapped with a psychopath like that for all these years.

You readied yourself, a dark figure walking inside the room. The room was pitch black to a certain point before you were trapped under a bright light you’d yet to figure out how to turn off. The figure stopped as their feet hit the brightness, a pair of brown boots and slim dark jeans all you could make out. They mumbled something and you felt the air shift slightly. You dared to reach at hand out to where the invisible wall keeping you trapped had been.

Your hand waved right on through it and you suddenly felt cool, clean air hit you. The person jolted when you sprang up, running away as you bolted for the door. You followed them up a flight of stairs and straight out into the foyer of a very nice house. You could see it was a man now and tackled him, straddling his hips and grabbing your knife from your waistband of your loose shorts, holding it to his throat. He breathed hard as you stared at him, cocking your head.

He was the spitting image of Dean. Mostly. His eyes weren’t green and there was something about his nose that reminded you of your own. The biggest tell of all though was the genuine fear in his face, the confusion.

“What’s your name,” you said. You held up the knife for a moment and tucked it away when you saw he was only focused on it. The young man, no more than twenty years old, took a deep breath. You yelped when he threw his legs up and wrapped them around your waist, yanking you off of him. He scrambled to his feet but you were on his tail, grabbing at his jacket. He spun around and popped you in the face, sending you to the floor.

You whined and cupped your cheek, the young man frozen in the doorway with a horrified look on his face.

“Who punches their own mom!” you shouted. He ran out the door and you went after, growling at your bare feet as he took off down the gravel driveway. “I’m gonna find you!”

You stomped your foot on the cool concrete front path, glancing to your right and spotting a sports car. You jogged back inside and found a pair of women’s sneakers, a little too big but you tied them tight and found some keys on a front table.

About two minutes later you were pulling up beside the guy on the road and hopped out of the car, the man running into the nearby treeline. You pulled out your knife and threw it, catching his jacket and pinning the sleeve to the tree trunk. He stumbled and fell down as you walked over, staring up with wide eyes. You sighed and ran a hand over your face.

“Can you at least tell me your first name?” you asked. He shook his head and you crossed your arms. “I bet your name is Lyle, isn’t it.”

“How’d you know that?” he asked, voice a bit higher than Dean’s but it made you smile, something warm and familiar to it.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think recently. Lyle is my top name for a boy if I ever had one,” you said. “So. Lyle Winchester.”

“That’s not my name,” he said. He stood up and pulled out the knife, carefully holding it out to you.

“You look just like Dean and me. You’re my son...somehow,” you said.

“Fine. My name is Lyle and that’s all I can say about myself,” he said. “I’m serious.”

You recognized the tone, that edge to it, the roughness but laced with an undercurrent of worry. Part of you wanted him to tell you everything about him but you knew he couldn’t, instead letting yourself give him a simple nod.

“I’ll make you a deal Lyle. I won’t ask questions about you that you can’t answer if you tell me how and why you got me out of there and answer anything else I want to know about this little situation.”

“Or else what?” he scoffed.

“Or else someday when you’re a teenager I won’t let you do anything. Lyle.” You took the knife from him and put it away, taking a deep breath. You stepped back out to the road, leaning against the car. You shut your eyes, something heavy draped over you. You peeled one eye open, Lyle leaning back against the car next to you in a blue flannel and dark gray t-shirt. His black hooded jacket was over your shoulders and you slipped your arms through the sleeves, wrapping them around yourself. You squeezed your eyes tight, shuddering before warm arms embraced you, Lyle almost as tall as Dean holding you close to him. “How did you know I was down there?”

“I can’t answer that,” he said.

“What year is it?” you asked.

“2089.” You froze, staring up at him. “Well, 2089 where we are right now is.”

“Lyle. It was 2018 when Michael took me. That’s not possible.”

“I can’t answer that either.” Tears welled up in your eyes and he hugged you again. “Sorry.”

“Dean was thirty nine the last time I saw him and it’s seventy one years later? He is dead. Sam is dead. They’re all dead so explain to me how the fucking hell I have a son with Dean!” you shouted. You pushed him away and ran your hands over your face. “Years. Fucking years I’ve sat down there waiting for him to come and get me. Him or Sam or someone. Fucking seventy one years!”

“Y/N,” he said, sounding a bit awkward but he cleared his throat. “I can’t answer everything because I don’t know everything. But I exist and that should tell you something.”

You wiped off your face with his sleeve and looked around, turning back and staring at him.

“I’m at the start of whatever this is and you’re way down the line,” you said. He nodded with a slight smile.

“I don’t understand it but this, where I’m from, this has already happened to you.”

“You’re from the future then,” you said.

“Not exactly,” he said.

“A different universe?” He looked at you like you were nuts and the air shifted, Lyle freezing. You turned and saw Jack, a smile on his face. “Jack?”

“Hi Y/N,” he said. He stepped over and gave you a big hug, a little bit of ache inside you easing finally. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just on pause.”

“Jack I don’t understand fucking anything. What’s going on?” you asked. He pursed his lips and sighed.

“Well you already figured out Lyle is your and Dean’s son. I didn’t think I could slip that one past you. But it had to be him that came and saved you.”

“Why?”

“Dean’s in heaven. Has been for 69 years.” You broke away from him feeling like you’d had a punch to gut and making you breathless. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that with the whole decades worth of trauma thing happening right now.”

“Did Michael…” you trailed off.

“No. A piece of rebar on a vamp hunt,” he said.

“He what?” you said.

“Yeah got pushed back on it. Sam was okay though. Oh and Dean had a dog for a few months.”

“Dean fucking died from that? That’s what kept him down?” you said. Jack nodded and you looked down, blinking your eyes. “Disregarding what is going on in my head right now about that, why didn’t you heal him? Or Castiel?”

“Well Cas was in heaven helping me rebuild after he sort of died and I brought him back. I kinda am the new God,” he said with a smile.

“I’m proud of that but again, why didn’t you come down here and heal Dean?”

“I’m sort of hands off in that regard,” he said. You were about to go off on him for that when it hit you.

“Jack how long have you known I was alive,” you said.

“2020 when I took over, I got these extra-”

“You knew I was alive and left me in a hole in the ground for over seventy years?” you said.

“Like I said, I’m hands off,” he said.

“I was your fucking mom! I took care of you! I protected you! I almost died for you more than once and when you find out I’m still alive you say fuck that bitch, she can deal with it on her own? What the fuck is wrong with you!” you shouted. You slapped him in the face, Jack pouting as you sank down to your knees. “I want Dean.”

“Y/N.”

“I want Dean and Sam.”

“Y/N-”

“I want Dean!”

“I can’t-”

“Fuck you! You’re as every bit as evil as that devil father of yours after all,” you said. You forced yourself to your feet, tears prickling in his eyes. “Oh did I hurt your feelings? Tough fucking shit! Do you realize that I have not only been stuck waiting for years but my body got stuck too. I’ve been sitting with broken ribs for seventy years. Every single breath excruciating.”

You yanked up your shirt, deep purple and black skin radiating across most of your abdomen. Jack reached out a hand and you moved back, dropping your shirt.

“I thought you were hands off. I don’t want your-” you said before warmth trickled through you, the pain gone, body feeling so strange at being without it.

“I don’t have to touch to heal you,” he said quietly. He swallowed and bowed his head. “I tried to let people live their lives without my interference and sometimes they’re messy but I’ve come to realize recently that’s wrong. A bit of help here and there is good. It gives people hope and maybe I should have done things different.”

“My family’s dead and I don’t want to wait around decades more to see them again in heaven. You’re going to-”

“No I won’t. Lyle’s life counts on you doing exactly what you’re supposed to as do your two other children’s. I can’t just put you in heaven. You can’t die right and you have to wait to see Dean until things work themselves out. Lyle’s going to be with you for a while and help get some things settled. It’s already set in motion so go with it,” he said.

“Jack I want Dean. Please,” you said. “Please Jack. Just five minutes.”

“Would you rather have your family back in the near future, alive, or would you rather have your and Dean’s souls torn apart and you never see him again, dead or alive? Rather he over there doesn’t exist? Rather no one exists?”

“I didn’t say that. Of course I would rather have them back alive-“

“Then be patient.”

“Jack. You gotta give me something. Something please.”

“I’ll talk to Lyle, tell him he can loosen up some. But I can’t tell you what to do. You have to follow your gut. Listen to Lyle and it’ll work out,” said Jack. You squeezed your eyes shut, Jack carefully resting a hand on your shoulder. “Do you hate me?”

“I hate that our family was ripped apart. I hate that you didn’t tell the boys I was alive once you knew. I hate that the last time I saw Dean alive we argued. I think what I hate most of all is that you treated us like everyone else. We’re not, Jack. We’re your family. All of us deserved a chance at normal and we didn’t get it.”

“Sam did.”

“How many years did Sam live without us? Without his brother?” you asked. Jack glanced down and you nodded. “You said you became God? Why didn’t you get rid of the monsters altogether Jack. Don’t tell me you don’t have that power.”

“I thought...I thought it was the natural order.”

“Yet you know there are other universes with no monsters at all. You could have taken the monsters away. Shit turn them human for all I care. The boys didn’t have to keep hunting after you took over. You could have been hands off and changed that one fact and saved so many lives, improved so many lives.”

“No. I couldn’t have changed it. Not back then.”

“Why the hell not?” you asked. He pulled his hand away and you found yourself in some clean clothes, Lyle’s jacket folded on top of the car.

“Because when I became God, I learned a lot. It sucks knowing that certain things have to happen and that I had to ignore when Sam prayed to me in that barn because things had to happen this way.”

“But why?”

“Because if I didn’t, if I’d intervened then and there, this universe, all of the ones I’ve been busy rebuilding, the way I’ve been rebuilding heaven...it’d be gone. Destroyed and I wouldn’t be able to put it back. It’s a temporary pain even if it doesn’t seem like it. So please, Y/N, please, listen to Lyle. Work with him. It’ll work out and things can be okay. You can have everything you ever wanted and more. You can have the freaking apple pie life and the no monsters and all of it but please understand you have more shit to go through first and whatever happens, do not let Lyle die.”

“He’s my son. I wouldn’t let that happen to him,” you said. Jack nodded and you grabbed his arm when he turned to leave. “You’ve grown up Jackie.”

“I’m still a baby by God standards,” he said.

“The guys take care of you after I was gone?” you asked.

“Yeah. I missed you though,” he said. “I accidentally killed Mary and sort of lost my soul for a bit. Things got bad for a while.”

“Do you see Kelly in heaven sometimes? Mary?” you asked. He nodded and you smiled. “Kids can fuck up and your parents will forgive you.”

“I’m sorry it has to be this way, Y/N. If I could snap my fingers to fix it all, stop it from ever happening, I would.”

“I’m going to trust that it had to be this way,” you said. “But give me a ballpark figure here. When do I get the guys back?”

“That’s relative. You’re going to end up breaking the space time continuum so it’s hard to answer that correctly.” You stared at him and he shrugged. “Not too long. A few days at most. I promise.”

“Wait is that how we have a twenty year old son?” you asked.

“Yes. The next time you see Dean he’ll be younger than the last you saw him. Just trust your gut and Lyle. Next time I see you I hope things are much better,” he said. You opened your mouth but he disappeared. You shook your head and turned around, Lyle now wearing his jacket, standing closer to the passenger seat door. For a long while you both simply stared, Lyle looking as if he’d just had his own long conversation with Jack.

“You can call me Y/N if that makes it easier,” you said. He nodded and you took a deep breath, going to the driver’s side. “So. What’s the next move?”

“Jack just said after I got you out we had to go to Lebanon. He didn’t tell me anything more than that,” he said.

“Any idea where we are?” you asked.

“San Antonio,” he said. “So we go North?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Mind taking the first shift driving? I sort of haven’t slept in like seventy years.”

“No that’s fine,” he said. He walked around the front and you made your way to the passenger side, climbing in and sighing. He got behind the wheel and took a deep breath. “You and dad run a construction business.”

“That’s nice,” you said, smiling to yourself. “Dean’d be real good at that kind of thing. He’s really smart.”

“I know. Most guys can’t call up their dad for help on their architecture homework,” he said.

“You go to college?” you asked, Lyle nodding. “Do you know about...this stuff?”

“I’m still not convinced I’m not insane. I just got home on a friday night. We had dinner and everyone went outside to have a bonfire in the backyard. I went in to use the bathroom and Uncle Jack stopped me before I could get back outside. He said a lot of crazy stuff I didn’t believe but the fact you were in that basement...you and dad are only like forty but you’re obviously too old right now to have had me when that would have made sense and Uncle Jack said space and time is gonna break and-”

“Lyle,” you said, holding up a hand. “Relax. I just want to know, do you know what hunting is?”

“Dad doesn’t go hunting,” he said, narrowing his eyes. You smiled and nodded to yourself. “We don’t even own a gun.”

“I doubt that. But that must mean that something happens to the monsters along the way too.”

“What do you mean monsters? And why were you kidnapped in a basement? And what the fuck is going on? You’re supposed to be my mom that runs the family business and you kick ass in your soccer league in the summer and you can’t cook to save your life and that’s okay cause you’re really good at baking and pies and shit and I just don’t understand who you really are.” His face was flush, eyes fighting back tears. You smiled, reaching over and cupping his cheek.

“You’re a good guy Lyle. We obviously did something right,” you said, wiping away a stray tear that fell. “It’s scary. It’s really scary. I’m not your mom yet but I will be someday. I promise I will tell you everything you don’t know when I catch up to your time. Dean and I will. But we need to go to Lebanon and the faster we can go there and figure out what we have to do, the faster we can get you back home where you belong.”

“But can’t you-”

“This world isn’t safe, Lyle. It is very unsafe for a Winchester especially. Please drive now,” you said. You put on your seatbelt and he closed his eyes. “Please.”

“I was supposed to be having a smore right now,” he said.

“I know. But saving the world is kinda cool,” you said.

“I don’t want to save the world. I want to go home and not see my mom be beat to shit. I want my dad to go back to teasing me at dinner and not being dead,” he said.

“If we do this right, you can go back to that really soon. It hasn’t happened for me yet. We can talk all about this when you come back. The night you come back we can talk through it all. But we have to get going. The sooner we go, the sooner it goes back to normal.”

“It’ll never be normal again.”

“Yes it will. I promise.”

“How do you-“

“Because I just had this really bad thing happen to me but someday I’m going to have you and everything I ever wanted with Dean. So it sucks right now but it’ll be better eventually. I know it will. You’re here so I know it’ll be normal.” He nodded and wiped off his face, starting the car up again.

“Y/N. Are you okay after...you know...being down there beat up all that time?”

“Not really,” you said. He took off his jacket and handed it to you. You stared before he rolled his eyes, laying it over your front.

“Sleep. I can drive.”

“Lyle.”

“Y/N. Rest. It’s safe. I got this.”

“You take after your dad.”

“Take after someone else too,” he said. You smiled and nodded, resting your head on your shoulder, closing your eyes. “I’ll wake you up for breakfast.”

“Egg and-”

“Cheese on a biscuit, two breakfast burritos, extra hot sauce and a small hot latte.”

“At least my road trip order didn’t change,” you said, quickly relaxing and falling asleep for the first time in ages.

_______

A/N: Read part 2 here!

#tell me a story bingo #supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean #winchester #dean spn

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mrsbrookegillespie · 3 years

Text

⚝The Girl Next Door⚝ Vampire!Luke x Reader (Series)

(Not My Gif)

Vampire!Luke x Reader (My Babysitter’s a Vampire AU)

Description: Set in Season One (After The Movie) Y/N decides to stay around for a little longer for a unknown reason to the gang. With that comes new problems, more supernaturals, and more uncoverings of the secrets that lay hidden beneath her facade, especially when a new girl enters the town.

Warnings: mentions of death, minor violence, and probably typo. Also cringy My Babysitter’s a Vampire talk. Tried to make it like the show in the way I write.

One more thing... It’s long. Because this is the first one of the series I wanted this one to be long, but the other ones will be shorter, unless it’s a thicker plot.

Enjoy!!!

“Look who decided to stay…”

Y/N freezes for a moment. His chilling voice sent her heart pounding against her ribcage. “Could say the same for you.” She turns on her heels rapidly to face him. “New found freedom and here you are in this same small town, at a school that’s quite boring if I’m being honest.”

Luke tilts this head. His eyes twitch, widening for a moment. “If it was boring there wouldn’t be witches and vampires roaming around. So, who knows what else is lurking around these corners…” He teasingly smiles at Y/N’s dumbfounded expression. “Am I wrong?”

“No…” she sighs.

“You’ve seemed to have caught quite a lot of people’s attention.” He side eyes the group of Freshmen boys gawking at her.

“It seems I have.” She doesn’t bother looking away from Luke. “Luke.” His now yellow eyes fixate on hers. “I hope our previous encounters don’t get to your head.”

“I wish I knew what you were talking about, so please enlighten me.” He crosses his arms, subconsciously leaning towards her.

“I mean… With me saving you.”

“You didn’t save me,” he argues.

A sarcastic laugh interrupts the confrontation between them. “Oh, is that right?” Sarah appears at Y/N’s side. “Because I think if she wasn’t there to rescue you, there would be a wooden stake in your chest right now.” She mimics Luke’s stance, Y/N awkwardly standing there witnessing this endeavorment.

Luke laughs, dryly. “Is that what you think? Well, I think if a pathetic girl--”

“Right here,” Y/N mumbles.

“--could take you on, I could’ve survived your weak throw.”

Sarah sucks on her two front teeth. “Come on Y/N, let’s get out of here.” She grabs ahold of Y/N’s arm tugging her away from the boy.

“Little strange that you’re buddying up with the girl who nearly killed you,” he shouts.

Weirded out glances are shot towards him.

“You just had to save him?” Sarah asks.

“What? Would you rather me save Jesse?” Y/N responds, raising an eyebrow.

“Or how about no one?”

Y/N huffs. “Think he’s going to be a problem?” She looks back at where Luke and her just were, only to find he’s disappeared.

“The biggest,” Sarah answers.

“Yeah… Me too.”

“Hey guys,” Ethan says, walking up to the pair. “What’s up?”

“Just another lovely conversation with Luke,” Sarah explains. “Would still really love a reason from Ms. Magic over here.”

Y/N puts her freehand up to mock surrender. “Don’t look at me,” she pauses. “Just doing my job,” she whispers to the point where no one else hears her. “Seen my cousin anywhere?”

Ethan shakes his head, but it goes distracted when something catches his attention. “Found him.”

They all turn to see Benny sweet talking to an unfamiliar girl. “Makes sense,” Y/N comments. “Who is that?” Her eyes narrow.

“No clue, never seen her around before,” Ethan informs.

“She’s pretty.”

They all jump, startled by Rory’s sudden appearance. “Where did you come from?” Y/N asks, harshly.

“Sorry, not as pretty as you Y/N,” Rory rushes, winking at her.

She rolls her eyes. Benny and the new girl stopping in front of them. “Guys I want you to meet Clarissa, she’s new, and she actually just moved in next door to us,” he remarks.

“Hello, Clarissa, I’m Sarah.”

“Ethan.”

“Rory.”

Y/N stares at the girl for a moment. Something didn’t fit right in Y/N’s stomach when staring into her pure green eyes. They were almost too green. “I’m Y/N.” She bounces on the balls of her feet. “Benny’s cousin,” she adds.

Clarissa grabs Y/N’s hand without warning. “I’ve heard so much about you!”

“You have?” Y/N chokes out a laugh. “All good things, I hope.” She grew heavily uncomfortable when Clarissa stared intensely at the purple gem that was snug in the center of Y/N’s ring.

Y/N pulls her hand away hastily, wiping it on her jeans. “Of course.” Clarissa’s sickly sweet smile almost gave her a headache.

“Benny,” she grits through her teeth. “Can I speak with you?”

Benny looks at her, confused. “What’s up?”

Y/N clears her throat. “Alone.”

With no verbal response she drags Benny to a corner where the rest of the group stared at the two. “What’s wrong? Is it Clarissa? Look, I know she’s coming off a little eager but--”

“That’s all you’re getting from her?” Y/N exasperates. “Don’t you see her eyes they’re pure green, I think they’re magical contacts--”

“Magical--what?!”

She gestures to where Clarissa was picking at Sarah’s hair. “And she’s wearing a headwrap-thing! And--” She aggressively points at her ring, “--she was analyzing it. I think she knows who I am, and people knowing what I am equals trouble.”

Benny stares at his cousin like he’s witnessing a crazy person. “Okay, someone’s been overworking her powers a little too much.” He grabs hold of her shoulders. “Clarissa is just a lonely new girl, who just happens to now live right next door to us. And maybe she likes jewelry, and green is good. Nice color. And… You do know there is something called culture, right?”

Y/N groans. “You’re not getting my point, I think she’s--”

The warning bell rings, cutting her off. “Gotta get to class, maybe you should go home--”

“But--”

“Get some rest.” Benny runs off, catching up with Clarissa.

“Okay, what’s got you all down?” Sarah asks, following the invisible lines Y/N’s making with her eyes, landing on Clarissa.

“Something is not--”

“I had a vision,” Ethan blurts. “When I shook Clarissa’s hand.”

“I knew it!” Y/N exclaims. “Snakes on her head, am I right?”

Ethan shudders. “H-How did you know?”

“Medusa, I can sense descendants wherever I go,” Y/N admits. “It’s my seventh sense.”

“You mean sixth sense,” Sarah corrects.

“No, I mean seventh sense.” Ethan and Sarah furrow their eyebrows. “Hard to explain. We need to warn Benny, but I think she already put her spell on him.”

“Spell?” Ethan questions. “What spell?”

The second bell rings. “Let’s talk later, during lunch!” Y/N jogs away rounding a corner.

“The thing is…”

“Ah!” Y/N screams when Clarissa slithers in front of her. “You…” She points an accusing finger at her. “Stay… Away.” Y/N makes a mental note of how her contacts were replaced with a dark pair of sunglasses.

“You have something I need. You think I want to be this way, snakes for beautiful long hair, turning people into stone. Do you know how lonely it is? I turned my best friend into stone, no way to reverse her back.” Clarissa takes a step closer to Y/N.

“Well, there is, it’s just--AH!” Y/N falls back onto the floor when Clarissa pushes her. “A little more complicated because of…” Her voice fades off.

Clarissa’s eyes didn’t dare to look away from Y/N’s ring. “Because I don’t have that.”

“So, you want my ring?” Y/N scoffs. “Well, you can’t have it. I’m not giving it to you.”

Clarissa chuckles. “Like you have a choice.”

“No, no, no, please don’t do this…. AH!” Y/N had no time to react before Clarissa’s headwrap fell, and she ripped her sunglasses off.

Grandma gasps, placing a hand on her heart. Not wasting any time she rustles off of the couch, getting to work.

RING!

“Where’s Y/N? She was supposed to tell us--”

“Tell you what?” Benny asks, cutting off Ethan. ‘

“That--Clarissa!” Ethan fakes a smile when she comes into view. “Tell us--”

“Tell us about her upcoming date,” Sarah finishes, nonchalantly.

“Date?” Luke stomps up to them. “Y/N? On a date? With who?”

“With…” Sarah’s eyes search the area. “Rory!”

The blonde boy stops, surprised. “What about me?” he asks.

“Your date with Y/N?” Ethan strains his voice, hoping Rory will be smart enough to follow along.

Rory frowns. “Date…?” Ethan and Sarah nod, pointedly. “Date! Yes! Date. Date with Y/N. I am going on a date with Y/N.” Rory stills. “Wait, I’m going on a date with Y/N?! Sweet!”

Luke’s jaw drops. “There must be a mistake,” he laughs. “She would never choose an idiot like you.”

“And who would she choose… You?” Sarah ridicules.

Luke’s eyes flash yellow. “Well, thanks for the compliment. You don’t think I’m an idiot,” he replies. “Where is she?” He changes the topic.

“I-I think I saw her go home,” Clarissa chimes in.

Ethan and Sarah both avert their eyes to the girl. “You did?” Sarah glances at Ethan who undoubtedly thinks the same thing.

“Yep!” Clarissa innocently smiles. “Why would I lie?”

“Yeah, why would she lie?” Benny, oblivious of the situation, puts on the same smile Clarissa is sporting. “She’s new.”

“Which means we know nothing about her,” Luke snarls.

“Luke’s right!” Ethan confirms.

“Is he?” Sarah’s voice goes a little higher, but on the inside she 100% agreed.

“I’m going to go check on her,” Luke announces.

“Why are you acting like you care about her?” Sarah snickers. “I’m coming with you.”

“Sarah,” Ethan hisses, grabbing her wrist. Gasping when he makes contact. “I had a vision,” he confesses, letting go of her. “It’s urgent.”

Sarah quickly glances at everyone before landing on Luke. “Just let us know if she’s there.”

“Or how about you guys check after school?” Clarissa suggests. “And then if she’s not we can all help look for her--if missing of course. You don’t really want to miss school, do you?”

Luke bursts into laughter. “You really are new.” And just like that he’s gone.

“Woah, where’d he go?” Clarissa scans the room. “What are you people? First we have witches, and wizards and now--”

“Wait, how do you know that?” Ethan interrogates.

“Guys! Chill out, I filled her in on Y/N and I being ‘magical’.” Benny does the quotations. “And how Y/N was a little freaked out by her, but it’s all good.”

“You told her what?!” Sarah feels her anger rise within her.

Luke opens the window of Y/N’s room, entering it. “Hello?” he calls out. “Y/N?”

The door swings open, exposing Grandma on the other side. “Thank God, you’re here.” She runs to grab his arm. “She doesn’t have much time.”

“What’s going on?”

She takes him to the basement where Y/N sat on the table, completely made of stone. “She appeared right here, like this, not too long ago, but long enough where we’re getting close to the effects being permanent.”

“What happened?” Luke walks up to Y/N.

“Medusa, or descendants. Has there been any odd behavior around the school? Or perhaps a new face?”

Luke perks up. “Yes, there’s a new girl. A little weird, and--”

“Tell me everything you know, and while you’re doing that, mix this up for me.” She hands him a bowl. “Hurry!”

Sarah and Ethan continue to sit where they’ve been sitting for the last ten minutes. “How are we going to fix this?” Ethan asks.

Sarah scrunches her face when she realizes Ethan was actually asking for an answer from her. “Don’t ask me, this is not my area of expertise.”

“If we don’t figure it out soon, you’ll turn to stone.”

“I’m a vampire, Ethan, I don’t think that’s even possible.”

“Well, you’re not a full vampire, maybe it’s different,” he disputes. “Look, I know what I saw, and I saw you turn to stone.”

“So, what do we do?”

Ethan stops again to think. “We… We need to use her own power against her,” he concludes. “But, we need Benny’s help.”

“Y/N said he’s under her spell, how are we going to take him out of it?” Sarah voices her concerns. “This would be so much easier if Y/N was here. Where is Luke? I knew we couldn’t trust him.”

“Forget him, we have to figure it out on our own.”

“I’m just--I’m worried. Y/N hasn’t just vanished like this before.”

Ethan chuckles. “You obviously haven’t known her for as long as I have.”

“What do you mean?”

Ethan inhales through his nose. “We were all best friends when we were kids, it was always me, Y/N, and Benny versus the world. We thought she was crazy when she spoke about her being a witch, and having magical powers. But, she was still our best friend.” He frowns. “Then she left, and never came back. We never got an explanation as to why. She was seven and we were five… And, yet, we remember those days like they were yesterday, and then of course she randomly pops up out of nowhere ten years later. Knowing all of this stuff about me, vampires, magic, it just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well, she’s back now, you can get answers. Trust me, I’m just as curious as you for some things when it comes to her…”

“Have you guys seen Clarissa?” Benny asks. “I haven’t been able to find her.”

“What?” Ethan stands up. “She’s gone?” He looks at Sarah in alarm. “Benny, okay, I need you to understand this… Clarissa is Medusa, or descendant, or the same species..”

Benny doesn’t move at first. “Funny, but seriously can you guys help me?”

The lights flicker. “That’s not good,” Sarah thinks out loud.

“Benny we’re telling you the truth, I had a vision, and Y/N she--”

“She put you up to this. She was acting weird earlier. Where is she by the way?”

“You won’t be seeing a lot from her anymore,” Clarissa’s voice echoes through the halls.

“Is it just me… Or are we the only ones in the school right now?” Benny searches for any signs of life around them.

“That’s your question?!” Sarah hisses. “Didn’t you hear what she said about Y/N?”

“She’s probably just trying to scare us,” Ethan excuses. “We can’t make assumptions.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you guys, we don’t know if Clarissa is--Oh my God!” Benny makes direct contact with the lockers' reflection of Clarissa, snakes floating around her head. “Run!”

Clarissa apparates in front of them. “Don’t look her in the eyes,” Ethan advises.

“No duh, Ethan!” Benny shouts.

The locker doors slam open around them. “How is she doing this?” Sarah covers her eyes.

“I’m guessing Y/N’s ring,” Benny guesses.

“How do we stop her if we can’t see her?”

“Maybe I can help,” another voice declares.

“Y/N?!” Sarah calls out. “Where have you been?”

“I was stuck in a… Situation. But, Luke helped me.” Y/N smiles at Luke.

“Bring it, now!” Grandma orders. Luke hands it to her. “Stand back.”

“What do you need me to do?” Luke asks, taking a step away from Y/N and Grandma.

Grandma meets his concerned eyes. “Be there for her when she comes back… It won’t be pretty.” She holds up the potion pouring it all around Y/N’s body. “Here we go.” She internally prayed this would work, especially with Luke watching. She begins to mumble some words incoherently, a bright light coming from her hands.

“It’s working,” Luke blurts in relief, when the grey stone starts to break off exposing skin.

“AH!” Y/N screams when most of her upper body is free. She notices the way her hands were still stone, panic rising.

Luke doesn’t hesitate his arms around her neck, settling her head in the crook of his neck. “You’re okay, it’s okay, you’re alright,” he assures, softly into her ear. Y/N can feel her fingers break free, gripping onto his shirt. “Shhh…” He runs his fingers through her hair.

Grandma weakly smiles, slowly backing away from them, to leave them alone.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asks when her cries settle down.

He pulls away, wiping the last fallen tears from her cheeks. “You went missing, and the rest were worried. I took it upon myself to… Find you. I also heard you were going on a date with Rory and I--”

“Wait! So, Clarissa is at the school with my friends… ALONE?!”

Y/N’s expression turns stern. “Now Clarissa, how about you do us all a favor and give me my ring back.” She moves close to Luke. “Take the rest, and hide.”

“What? No. I’m not gonna protect some losers, and that would include me touching them…”

Y/N takes a deep breath, breaking her stance to hold the bridge of her nose. “Luke, I swear to God I will go back in time and stab you in the heart myself if I have to if you don’t listen to me.” It goes silent. Yes, even Clarissa didn’t move a muscle. “Got it?”

Luke simply nods.

“Back to business now.”

“Magical contacts,” Clarissa states more than questions. “Smart.”

Y/N shrugs carelessly with a smirk. “Learn from the best.” In less than a minute it was just her and Clarissa alone in one of the many creepy hallways of the school. “Now my ring.” She holds out her hand. “It’s not going to give you what you want.”

“And how do you know exactly what I want?” Clarissa snaps.

“It’s dangerous for someone not trained to use it, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Clarissa scoffs. “How are you going to do anything without this?” She points to the ring that rightfully belongs to Y/N. “You’re nothing without it.”

Those words rang in Y/N’s mind. “That’s not true.”

“Oh, but I think it is.” With a wave of Clarissa’s hand, Y/N goes flying back. “And with this ring I’m everything.”

Y/N winces as she stands. “You’re just going to hurt yourself.”

“Not a chance.” Another lifeless throw of Clarissa’s fingers Y/N falls to the floor. “See? Can’t even dodge a simple spell. You’re useless, and pathetic. It’s a miracle you can even call yourself a witch.”

“See?” Y/N mocks Clarissa’s tone. “That’s where you’re wrong.” She stands up, strong. “I’m no witch.” She closes her eyes, the adrenaline coursing through her veins, a certain friction being felt at her fingertips. She elegantly moves as though she is a flower in the wind, building up a bundle of energy at the palm of her hands.

“I could’ve said that,” Clarissa laughs. “You know, I never thought someone like you could befriend so many vampires.” Y/N bites her lip to keep from distracting herself away from the task. “Who was that one… The one you arrived with. Seems quite special to you. With this ring, vampires will never be immune to my power, nor will any other supernatural when I learn how to get past your little spells. I will make you feel the pain I felt… Starting with that boy.”

When Y/N opens her eyes it sends a shock wave towards Clarissa. What used to be her dark brown eyes are now a violent shade of purple. “Oh… There is no spell,” Y/N’s voice comes out more deep and demonic. “This--” She gestures to herself, “--is all me.”

“Uhhh…” Clarissa stumbles back.

“Told you I’m no witch.” Y/N creeps up to her. “And I’d watch what you say very carefully.”

“It’s not poss--”

Y/N raises up her hand, Clarissa following as she leviates in the air. The lockers that were open around them began to crumple. “Oops… I meant that to be you.”

“AH!”

Sarah, Benny, Ethan, and Luke become startled by the sound of screaming. “What was that?” Sarah asks, slightly scared.

“Was that Y/N?” Benny starts to stroll towards the school. “We need to help her!”

Luke harshly grabs his shoulder. “If we’re going to go in there we’ll need these.” He presents the clear contacts to the group. “They’ll block out her magic.” Luke’s thoughts drift off to earlier.

“What do you need me to do?” Luke asks, taking a step away from Y/N and Grandma.

Grandma meets his concerned eyes. “Be there for her when she comes back… It won’t be pretty.”

“Let’s go,” Sarah says. “Luke?!”

Grandma takes his wrist before he follows Y/N out of the house. “Be there for her.”

“What?”

“Be there for her when she comes back from the fight,” Grandma guides, vaguely. “She can’t control it.”

“Control what?”

“Her emotions… Her powers… Her alter ego,” she explains. “The night she saved you, the night she almost killed Sarah, who do you think that was?”

Luke shakes the odd feeling off. Running after the rest.

“Please, help me!” Clarissa pleads.

“Who would ever help you? You’re a monster. You kill people with no remorse. What makes you more worth saving than anyone you’ve murdered?!” Y/N grabs a hold of the girl's wrist. “This belongs…” She plucks the ring off of her with magic. “To me.” Carefully sliding it down her own finger without touching it once. Y/N moves her grip to both Clarissa’s shoulders. “How about I show you the pain you caused?” Her eyes grow brighter as she clearfully shouts sinful spells at Clarissa. The snakes that make up her hair cower in fear as her body becomes more and more weak in Y/N’s hands.

“Y/N!” Ethan yelps. “What are you doing?”

“Dealing with the enemy,” she answers.

Clarissa allows the tears to fall from her eyes. “Don’t do this! I’m sorry.” Y/N ignores the girl’s cries, and wails.

“Y/N, you need to stop this.” Luke tries to get her attention.

Y/N lets out a dark chuckle. “That’s what they tell her, right? To stop this side of her, to hide, well not anymore, not while I’m around will allow her to bury me once more in her pureness,” she pauses. “They will all. Feel. My. WRATH!”

With a blinding flash of light everything went quiet.

Everyone opens their eyes to find Y/N lying limp on the ground. “Y/N!” Her friends rush to her aid, huddling around her.

“Wake up.” Luke cups her face, patting her cheek gently. “Wake up, wake up, wake up,” he repeats.

Y/N gasps, her eyes fluttering open. “Guys? Wh-What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” Ethan asks.

Y/N shakes her head. “No, I just remember Clarissa and--” She cuts herself off, looking around. “Where’s Clarissa?”

They hear a squeak behind them.

They turn their heads, Y/N lifting hers to see the damage she caused. “Oh my God!” she shrills when she sees a small snake on the floor. “What have I done?” She scrambles away from the group, going over to what she believed was Clarissa. “I have to fix this.” She picks up the snake.

“Y/N--”

“Please,” she sobs. “I’ll fix this. I promise I will.” She sets the snake down, taking a deep breath. “I can fix this,” she tells herself. Her arms lift up gracefully, as she moves them around, almost like a dance. A soft breeze brushes everyone coming around to where Y/N sat. “Mmm… Mmm…” She hums a melody. “Water, Earth… Fire, and Ice, I bring thee together to create a new light,” she sings angelically. “Water, Earth… Fire and Ice reverse what I’ve done… Take in the curse and disperse it with love. Reverse the curse and I’ll pay back for what I’ve done…” A warm light glows from Y/N’s hands illuminating the snake that transforms back into the shape of a human.

Clarissa opens her eyes, sitting up. A trail of long, golden blonde hair follows. “You did it.” She smiles. “You broke the curse.” She wraps her arms tightly around Y/N. “Thank you.”

Y/N hugs the girl back.

Hiss!

They pull away from each other. “Oh! I think you have…” Y/N points at the top of her head.

Clarissa reaches up to grab the small snake. “I guess someone had a curse to be broken too.” Her eyes meet Y/N’s. “Thank you, once again.” She giggles. “Sorry I stole your ring, and turned you to stone”

“What?!” Ethan, Benny, and Sarah exclaims.

“Old news,” Luke mutters.

“And sorry Benny about the spell I put on you.”

Benny blinks a few times. “A spell?!”

“I owe you my life,” Clarissa says.

Y/N waves it off. “You don’t owe us anything. You’re free now, so be free.”

Clarissa, and Y/N stand up. “Then I must go… Find my parents.”

Y/N’s eyes light up. “I might have something for that.” Y/N looks around, twirling her finger around to make--

“A compass?” Clarissa questions.

“This is an enchanted compass, think about what you’re trying to find and it’ll take you right to them,” Y/N explains, handing it to her.

“I was wrong about you,” Clarissa starts. “I thought the ring made you who you are, but… It turns out it’s your heart that makes you everything…” She vanishes.

“Wh-where’d she go?” Ethan looks at Y/N confused.

“To where her parents are.” Y/N smiles.

The sun shines through the windows, the bells of the school ringing as people walk out of the classrooms. “Where were you guys?” Rory asks. “You missed fifth period.”

Everyone glimpse at each other’s reactions. “Magic is seriously weird,” Sarah comments.

“You tell me,” Ethan agrees.

“I already knew,” Y/N admits.

“When will I get one of those rings?” Benny questions. “I mean… I am a warlock too, and yet why can’t I do all the cool stuff you can do?”

Y/N laughs. “I don’t know if I would call it cool, but…” She looks at Luke who hasn’t been able to look away from her since she woke up.

“Are you okay?”

Y/N is taken aback by his question. “I will be,” she answers, truthfully. “Thanks for being there for me.”

“Why are they looking at each other like that, when Y/N and I are supposed to be going out on a date?” Rory thinks out loud.

Hearing only the last part of it Y/N looks at him in alarm. “What did I hear about me going out on a date with you?” She gapes at Sarah and Ethan who appear guilty.

“Was that Erica?” Sarah dramatically points the opposite way of them. “I was wondering where that girl was… Gotta go!”

Ethan stands there awkwardly, as Sarah runs away. “Did Sarah just call for me to come with? I think she did, buh-bye!”

And so there were three. “So? When is that da--”

Rory gets cut off by Luke hissing at him. “It’s a no from her loverboy,” Luke bickers. “Leave it.”

Rory pouts, but genuinely frightened by Luke, paces away. “It’s been a long day, I think I’m gonna go home.” Y/N runs a hand through her hair. “See you later, ‘kay?” She walks off.

Benny was left confused when the direction of her words was towards Luke and not him.

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