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#his ass better be so glad he got a college acceptance

marnerparty · 1 year

Text

go blue

Luke Hughes x McCarthy!reader

*for those who do not know, JJ McCarthy is the quarterback for Michigan’s football team, so yn will be his sister!

ynssecretaccount

Liked by yourbestfriend, rutgermcgroarty and 63 others

ynssecretaccount party animal

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jjmccarthy who tf is that

ynssecretaccount 😳

jjmccarthy yn …

ynssecretaccount don’t make me block you from this account Jonathan

mackie.samo lol how’s Lukey?

ynssecretaccount do not let him see this

jjmccarthy Lukey??????

ynssecretaccount thanks for name dropping Mackie

jjmccarthy LUKE HUGHES!?

ynssecretaccount SAY IT LOUDER!

yourbestfriend how many people are on this account?

ynssecretaccount like 70 maybe

yourbestfriend and how many are Luke’s teammates that could potentially show this to him?

ynssecretaccount they’re my friends too!

edwards.73 it’s true we have her back

jackhughes has requested to follow you

ynmccarthy

Liked by edwards.73, jackhughes and 28,891 others

ynmccarthy first umich hockey game in the books!

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user1 living the life

rutgermcgroarty we all know why you went

nolan_moyle do we?

rutgermcgroarty jesus moyle 🤦🏼‍♀️

edwards.73 where ya been bud

jjmccarthy football > hockey 🥱

ynmccarthy hot take

jjmccarthy before last weeks party would you be saying the same thing?

rutgermcgroarty got her

ynmccarthy get tf out both of you

yourbestfriend going to his sporting events now???

ynmccarthy yes, all of my FRIENDS’ hockey game!

luca.fantilli be honest

markestapa let’s all gang up on her

dylanduke25 you know who was asking about you? his brother Jack

ynmccarthy he requested to follow my private account

markestapa that’s a sign! accept!

ynmccarthy I’m afraid

user2 brother Jack… could this mean they’re all talking about Luke Hughes!?

umichhockey we’re so glad you could make it!

Liked by ynmccarthy

mackie.samo the secret account posts are better. more unhinged

ynmccarthy oh just wait, you’ll like the next one

user2 I can’t imagine having such a well known brother

ynmccarthy you get used to it realllll quick

adamfantilli honestly embarrassing this is your first one

ynmccarthy I’ve been a busy student ok

mackie.samo “busy student”

ynmccarthy watch it

thombordeleau_ oh so we go to the same game and you don’t seek me out??

ynmccarthy sorry! I still love you Thomas 🫶🏻

jjmccarthy why tf are you just friends with all Michigan hockey players

rutgermcgroarty does he not know the story …?

ynmccarthy nah

jjmccarthy story??

thombordeleau_ let’s just say yn has some hidden talents

ynmccarthy oh no 🤦🏼‍♀️

adamfantilli she kicked Luca’s ass in a one v one

jjmccarthy in hockey!?

luca.fantilli not my best moment ok

mackie.samo from then on she was one of the guys

ynssecretaccount

Liked by mackie.samo, jjmccarthy and 71 others

ynssecretaccount the main got a good post about the game! this gets the “when your siblings favorite player is the stranger you kissed last week at a party & he didn’t remember you” post😳

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mackie.samo oh yeah, this is good

jjmccarthy that’s awkward

ynssecretaccount tell me about it

jjmccarthy wish I could relate, but that doesn’t happen to college qbs 🥱

ynssecretaccount you’re a dick

rutgermcgroarty well he is a college qb 🤷🏼‍♀️

ynssecretaccount this is why you’re my favorite

jjmccarthy fuck you both

jackhughes Luke literally wouldn’t stop talking about you, idk why he was acting like that

ynssecretaccount i have a feeling we’re going to be great friends

jackhughes why do you think I requested to follow your account?

luca.fantilli it’d be a shame if someone wasn’t being careful and Luke saw them scroll by this post…

ynssecretaccount WHO

luca.fantilli Now I’m not gonna say it was Rutger …

rutgermcgroarty DUDE WTF!

ynssecretaccount RUTGER

rutgermcgroarty it was an honest mistake yn

lhughes_06 has requested to follow you

lhughes_06

Liked by nicohischier, jackhughes and 51,781 others

lhughes_06 starting summer off right 🤙🏻

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mackie.samo 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨

lhughes_06 ?

mackie.samo don’t question mark me who’s the girl?

lhughes_06 girl? what girl?

user1 lost another Hughes 😔

jackhughes when did you hang out with a girl??

lhughes_06 what’re you talking about?

trevorzegras the little man’s all grown up 🥲

lhughes_06 trying to be like you 🫶🏻

edwards.73 what a hottie ❤️‍🔥

lhughes_06 all you 😉

edwards.73 I was talking abt yn

lhughes_06 DUDE

jackhughes THAT’S YN!?

_quinnhughes YOU DIDN’T TELL US!?

ynmccarthy surprise?

edwards.73 my bad

rutgermcgroarty hey it wasn’t me who ruined something this time!

nicohischeir kidddd

lhughes_06 cap 🫡

ynmccarthy cutie in the red 😍

lhughes_06 ;)

jjmccarthy BARF

lhughes_06 I can make it worse

elblue6 it was so amazing to meet yn!

ynmccarthy love you Ellen! thanks so much for having me 🥰

markestapa it’s okay I’ll just get the invite next time

lhughes_06 it’s the first week of summer mark

markestapa and?

dylanduke25 miss you roomie 🫶🏻

lhughes_06 miss you duker 🥹

_quinnhughes yn needs to look out for Dylan

ynmccarthy we hung out one time guys

lhughes_06 one?

ynmccarthy one, three, seven idk

lhughes_06 uh huh

ynmccarthy

Liked by jjmccarthy, _quinnhughes and 28,550 others

ynmccarthy my boy 🩵

tagged lhughes_06

Comments have been disabled

lhughes_06

Liked by ynmccarthy, mackie.samo and 43,591 others

lhughes_06 boys night 🤘🏻

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jackhughes Luke, you need to stop. if you’re a fun dad we can’t be fun uncles

jackhughes funcles if you will

_quinnhughes I wanna be a druncle (drunk uncle)

ynmccarthy guys these would be Luke’s siblings🤦🏼‍♀️

jackhughes Oh hell nah he’s definitely not getting fun brother

user1 when he’s good with kids 🥹

Liked by ynmccarthy

ynmccarthy I think this could’ve been a boys + yn night

lhughes_06 no girls allowed. period.

_quinnhughes then why were you there?

lhughes_06 fuck off quinn

_quinnhughes yn are you gonna let him talk to me like that!?

ynmccarthy absolutely not quinny. he is now blocked & will be reprimanded at home

jjmccarthy no, please leave out the og McCarthy

lhughes_06 to be fair, you’re in Mexico

ynmccarthy he just can’t take not being the favorite older sibling

jjmccarthy well when you bang their favorite player you’re gonna be the favorite

lhughes_06 hey now

ynmccarthy what’s that supposed to mean asshole?

rutgermcgroarty guys let’s please not start a sibling war

colecaufield you’re whipped for this girl

ynmccarthy tell me about it. it’s tiring being his world 🥱

jackhughes I love yn so much, she’s so cocky

lhughes_06 just like you

mackie.samo Michigan really brings people together

lhughes_06 it’s the best state by far

ynmccarthy try again

lhughes_06 yn, babe, you’re from illinois. you get no input

jjmccarthy what’s wrong with Illinois!?

luca.fantilli oh so much

user2 yn and Luke better be endgame

nolan_moyle wtf game is that

lhughes_06 idk but they killed me at it

ynmccarthy you lost to a 3rd & 4th grader? embarrassing.

lhughes_06 and you would’ve done better?

jjmccarthy she’s literally a gamer

ynmccarthy jj wtf

lhughes_06 is this true

jjmccarthy ask her about mlb the show

ynmccarthy JJ

lhughes_06 we need to talk

adamfantilli took my yn away 🙄

ynmccarthy still yours Tilly

lhughes_06 uh, no? you’re not? you’re mine?

trevorzegras do I get to meet this yn?

ynmccarthy I’d also like to know when I meet the extended fam

ynssecretaccount

Liked by nicohischier, dylanduke25 and 113 others

ynssecretaccount *sappy post incoming* *the main doesn’t get these* I remember when there were 70 people on this account, and now there are over 100 because of everyone I’ve met through this guy. Luke Warren Hughes, I love you so much. You truly make me the happiest girl ever. If I had never met you at that party Sophomore year, none of this would’ve ever happened. Thank you for every little thing you do for me🫶🏻 happy one year lover

tagged lhughes_06

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jackhughes THE PICTURE

trevorzegras MY EYES

luca.fantilli WHOSE LIPS ARE WHOSE!?

mackie.samo this is why it’s on the private 😭

lhughes_06 dang we’re hot

ynssecretaccount facts

lhughes_06 & I love you more :)

ynssecretaccount not possible 🤞🏻

rutgermcgroarty it’s kinda cute tho …

ynssecretaccount Rutger on top yet again

lhughes_06 usually you’re on top

_quinnhughes WOAH

jackhughes Lukey boy!!!!

ynssecretaccount Lucas what the fuck

jackhughes uh oh she used the fake full name

nicohischier I hope there aren’t children here

ynssecretaccount now if Nico’s saying that I’m embarrassed

trevorzegras as long as Jamie isn’t on this account we’re safe

jamie.drysdale im here, and I’ve seen it, and I want to be gone

trevorzegras I should’ve warned you Jim 🤦🏼‍♀️

ynmccarthy there’s a reason this is private

_quinnhughes not you commenting on your private with your main account

ynssecretaccount what about it Quinn

elblue6 has requested to follow you

#nhl #hockey #hockey imagine #instagram edit #instagram imagine #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #michigan hockey #luke hughes x reader

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beebotea · 4 months

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Hewllo!! Id like to drop a msg, i read ur heartsteel kayn's college boy and i adore the little details of his actions u put in ♡!! Id definitely like to see more stories on college boi kayn from you!! ♡

☁️ ˖⁺ academic misfortunes — kayn (heartsteel)

pairing: heartsteel!kayn x f/gn!reader genre: fluff, crack, college!au cw: idk probably ooc, not proofread :0 i.e.: adventures of collegeboy!kayn and his classmate/tutor!reader

aahhh! im so glad you enjoyed it <333 i might do a mini series/collection of drabbles for collegeboy!kayn. please send in any requests or ideas you may have or just thoughts to chat about :DD

spinoff of this post

Kayn isn’t what you’d thought he’d be, to be completely honest. Going off of fancams, fanfics, and the general perception of his character to the public eye, you expected Heartsteel’s lead rapper to be a bit more… cool? Well, at least he certainly tries to come off that way.

However, you quickly learn that Kayn is really just a really, really closeted softie loser boy at best trying to compensate with a big attitude because he thinks edgy is cool or whatever. Of course, he would definitely attempt to murder you if you were to speak of these musings out loud but you couldn’t help but find his off-putting demeanour a bit endearing after a while… something akin to a hyperaggressive chihuahua or a rabid raccoon. But of course, there are other times where you’d wish he’d just fuck off and leave you alone.

“Hey loser.” He calls you from the steps, walking up to where you sit in the lecture hall. “Did you do the homework? Let me copy off of you.” He slides into his usual spot next to yours, throwing his backpack haphazardly on the ground beside him.

“You’re not copying my shit. Fuck off, Kayn.” You roll your eyes at him and continue to read through the slides for today’s class.

“C’mon, have some empathy, yeah? The boys and I had practice all day yesterday.” He was a decent enough liar, but he could have been better if he hadn’t texted you to postpone your tutoring session with a picture of him and Aphelios playing with a random pit bull yesterday instead of attending band practice or completing his homework.

“Kayn, this worksheet was assigned like two weeks ago.”

“So? I had stuff to do two weeks ago!” That part was a bit true; Alune always gave you a copy of the band’s promotion and practice schedule for the month to keep you updated.

It was difficult to refer to him as your friend. You saw him often enough—every day in almost every class. And you’ve worked with him on countless partnered projects by now—he’s only ever able to do work with you (in other words, he scares off anyone who tries to ask you to be in their group or be their partner). But he was always a complete pain in the ass.

When you first became acquainted with Heartsteel’s resident delinquent, you were assigned to be his tutor by one of the department heads at the request of Yone. Begrudgingly accepting the role in exchange for “VIP tickets to all concerts, all inclusive backstage passes at events and shoots, and first dibs to new merch releases,” you began your new job as Kayn’s personal tutor for the various courses he was performing horrendously in. It was by no means smooth sailing when you started. Trying to make plans around his schedule, finding places he wasn’t already banned from to study, getting kicked out of establishments because of his hissy fits at minor inconveniences, and then ultimately agreeing to work at his dorm every weekend instead so you don’t have to hide your face in public. What surprised you the most was how hardworking he actually was when he put his mind to it, even paying attention to your explanations for hours until he could grasp the concept at an intermediate level—or got hungry. What was more was that he even showed rapid improvement, bringing back marks higher than a C- and occasionally reaching the mid to high 70s after a month and a half of beginning his tutoring sessions.

“Okay fine. Just this once, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I promise.” He flashed you a snarky grin as you pushed your papers towards him, pointing out which ones were a bit more difficult to understand and summarising what should’ve been an explanation done during one of your tutoring sessions.

“You really should start focusing up on your work though, you know. Finals is coming up soon and these exercises are really good for preparation.”

When the professor finally dismissed the class, you found yourself waiting behind for the bright haired rapper.

“Aw you waited! That’s cute.” He sent a quick wink your way as he caught up to you.

“Well you said you were gonna give me a ride to your place so.”

“Just had to ruin the moment didn’t you.” He chuckled, ushering you to follow him. “I hope you’re not scared of motorcycles or anything because I finally got Yone to let me ride it.”

“Huh?”

“Now where did I park it… hm let’s see… Oh! Here!” He grabbed you by the wrist to pull you towards a red and black motorcycle decorated on its sides with white flames. “Sooo whatd’ya think?” He nudged your sides as he grinned at you.

“You are not driving me in that.”

“Oh come on, of course I am! I have a license for it and everything!”

“Kayn you’re literally gonna get us killed.”

“Will not! C’mon, don’t you trust me? After everything we’ve been through? When have I ever let you down?”

“Like literally this morning when you cheated off of my worksheets instead of completing them before hand like you said you would.” You rolled your eyes at him, missing the way he pouted at your words.

“I promised it was a one time mistake!” He took two helmets from a storage compartment in the vehicle and shook them in front of your face, hoping that his attempt to show you his knowledge of roadside safety would sway you in the right direction. “So? How about it?”

With a defeated sigh, you agree with a mumbled “fine” as he threw you your helmet and instructed you to get on behind him. He even took the time to emphasize the importance of ‘holding on [to him] really really really tight.’

“See? ‘wasnt so bad was it?” He said as he helped you off the motorbike, lifting you off the seat by the waist. He helped you steady yourself when your feet finally touched the ground. His hand never seeming to leave its place on your hip.

“It was… fine. I guess.” You couldn’t help but give him a small grin, having enjoyed the ride and being so close to him. Kayn seemed to want to say something else until he was interrupted by a voice calling from the window above you.

“Hey! Kayn’s back!” Ezreal’s green head could be seen poking out from one of Heartsteel HQ’s many windows, waving to the two of you below him. “Hurry up inside! Yone made ramen!”

Before he knew it, you bolted past him and through the front door at the promise of Yone’s homemade cooking.

a/n: def down to write more abt this lovesick loser bad boy (please give me more excuses to)

#beebotea*✲ﾟ*｡⋆ writes #beebotea*✲ﾟ*｡⋆ replies #league of legends kayn #kayn #heartsteel #heartsteel kayn #kayn x reader #kayn x you #heartsteel drabbles #heartsteel imagines

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boydepartment · 1 year

Text

Pizza Parlor- Lee Felix: Chapter Three

Description: Y/n is a stressed-out college student who has no idea what she is doing with her life. She is always wrapped up in nostalgia and her friends seem to know exactly what they're doing. Feeling insecure one night she decides to go on an old website. Club Penguin. Little does she know; she would encounter a certain penguin who was also having a rough night.

Stray Kids are idols, TXT is not.

Partial smau, mainly written.

Warnings for chapter 3: The reader gets followed but its nothing dramatic.

WC- 2.2k back next

masterlist

```

Song for Chapter 3: Can I call you tonight? - Dayglow

Chapter 3: Home Alone, Day ONE, Night ONE

The next week flew by quickly and you and Felix practically talked every day. It ranged from dumb topics to somewhat serious ones. You started to learn a little about his personality. However, his work and where he is from still haven’t been spoken about. You were curious of that, you also wanted to call him. Of course, you knew that people had those boundaries where they were too shy to call, However, he seemed very out there and outspoken. Felix seemed like a fun guy, and you were dying to know what his voice sounded like.

However, you would have to ask him later, because now you had work. You woke up just in time to leave too. Lea had finished training you and so today was the first day fully on your own. You were nervous, but part of you was excited, this was uncharted territory. You got up and stretched a bit, your workout with Taehyun last night was killing you right now. You ass was sore, and your biceps were screaming. You smiled through the pain; these all-nighters weren’t helping either. You couldn’t help it though everything seemed to be more productive at night plus Felix seemed to give you the most attention then, not that... not that it mattered... yeah...

Walking to your closet you grabbed a normal black long sleeve and a casual pant; it was in between weather, so you wanted to play it safe. Grabbing your backpack and phone you walked out to the kitchen.

“Hey, I am so glad I caught you before work.” You flipped around and saw Taehyun. You turned your head to urge him to continue talking.

“We are gonna head out to Soobin’s moms for the weekend, the boys are already in the car. You sure you’re going to be okay?” Taehyun leaned against the counter. He said yesterday he didn’t really want to go but you encouraged him enough. Plus, they’re getting paid for this. Either way, the sentiment was nice of him.

“I will be A-Okay.” You grabbed the coffee creamer and walked to the coffee pot. Taehyun sighed and accepted his defeat.

“Okay… We will see you Monday morning.” He grabbed his phone and house keys and headed out. You smiled to yourself while brewing your coffee.

Having these amazing roommates and friends really was a blessing, college was stressful, but they made it better. Maybe Felix went to college. He could have good advice. He seemed kind enough to help you. Maybe he would give you advice about Beomgyu’s girlfriend too, as much as you didn’t like her you didn’t want a strained relationship anymore. You made sure to make a mental note to ask him later. After your coffee was made you grabbed your stuff and headed out to work.

When you got to work Lea gave you a hug, “I am so proud of you after your training! Have fun today.” She grabbed her bag and headed out. Your shift today wasn’t too horrible, it was only from 2-8, you had the closing shift. It made you a little nervous having to walk home alone at night, but you’d suck it up. While restocking the shelves you heard someone walk in.

“Hi welcome in!” You turned, your hands full of albums.

“Thank you.” The guy smiled, and he literally was one of the most attractive men you have ever seen in your existence. Oh my god, y/n, ACT COOL.

Gaining up the courage and setting down the albums on the shelf you fully faced him, “do you need any help finding anything?”

YES! That was so good. Your voice didn’t even waver.

“Actually yeah!” He took a step closer, “I was actually looking for a specific album for my girlfriend.”

Oh. WELL WITH A FACE LIKE HIS YOU SHOULDN’T BE SURPRISED.

“Of course! What does she like?”

“This one group with a ton of members, I really don’t remember the name…”

In the end you had to play a guessing game with him, it took fifteen minutes to find out that he was talking about NCT. He kept getting BTS mixed up. Part of you wanted to pray for this girl, I mean remembering the name of her favorite group is literally the bare minimum. Plus, its only 3 LETTERS! This guy really needs to get it together. You were going to tell Felix about this later. After ringing him up, you finished restocking the store and sat by the register. The manager popped in for a few minutes to check in on you and give you a break, you really enjoyed your work environment. Around the last hour of your shift though you had a whole group of people come prancing in. They started asking about Stray Kids. This group was REALLY popular. Half the people that came in today requested Stray Kids albums. You pointed the group into the direction of the specific album shelf and let them have a party. Then the next thing you knew your shift was up and you were helping the manager close.

Walking home was way calmer than you expected, at least at first. You started to get really paranoid, and it felt as if you were being followed by someone. Panicking you unlock your phone. You debated on texting one of your roommates but that might make them worry for you more. You didn’t want that. Looking behind you, you DID see someone. Then you got a notification as you started to walk faster.

Almost instantly you got a call on discord from Felix.

“Hello? Y/n?” You couldn’t even pay attention to how nice his voice sounded because the guy made the same turn as you, you didn’t even have to turn around to take note of that.

“Um hey baby! I am almost there! You said you were gonna meet me at that student store, right? Wait let me put you on speaker I have my hands full, haha!” You were absolutely panicking; you saw people do this online all the time. Putting him on speaker you prayed he would understand what you were doing.

“Yeah, my love I am on my way I promise.” Oh, thank God. Quickly you started rushing to your apartment complex.

“I can’t wait to see you I am practically rushing!” Turning around you noticed he flipped around and started walking the opposite direction. Taking a sigh of relief, you walked into your apartment complex.

“Y/n am I still on speaker?” Fuck, you totally forgot FELIX was on the phone. All that adrenaline led you to calling HIM of all people.

“Oh, um yeah!” You put your headphones in and started the walk to the elevator, “now I have headphones in, thank you so much genuinely, I had to close the store today with my manager and I have to walk through my campus to get back home, I got to my apartment complex though I am safe, and it was just really late and- “

You heard Felix sigh in relief, “so you’re safe right?”

“DO YOU HAVE AN ACCENT!?” You slammed on the elevator button; you heard Felix laugh and clear his throat.

“I do.” He continued to let little chuckles out, “you knew I wasn’t in America with the time zones AND I TOLD YOU I HAVE VISITED AMERICA!” He started laughing now.

“WELL- WELL YEAH.” You said defensively. Felix let out another laugh and it sounded like gold. Gosh your hands were a little sweaty.

“Tell me when you are safe in your apartment okay? I won’t even think about getting off the phone until then.”

Wow he, Felix was really a gentleman, “I will… Thank you.” As you were walking and making small talk you ended up telling him about the handsome guy who came into the store, not even knowing his own girlfriend’s favorite group.

“Wait where do you work? You never actually told me where.” Felix seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, and he listened. He would make little funny remarks. As comfortable as you were, did you really want to tell him you work at a k-pop store? Not that there was anything wrong with it, you just remembered how in highschool you’d get teased for even mentioning the genre. You were really conflicted.

“I work at a music store.” YOU WERENT TECHINALLY LYING. “Where do you work?”

“That is a little complicated to answer… however your work sounds so fun y/n.” It STILL sounded like he was smiling. When you finally got to your door, you felt a wave of relief.

“I am at my door!” You practically cheered, “you can get back to work now, you must be busy. I am sorry for like begging you to call me.”

“Are you inside yet?” Felix asked.

You were looking for your keys, “Well not- “

“I am not hanging up until I make sure you’re inside safely.”

That genuinely made you fumble with your keys, quickly you unlocked it and walked in, locking it behind you.

“Okay I am inside, thank you again for everything Felix. Especially really saving me back there by being my fake boyfriend.” You had to bite down your smile. You heard him fumble with his phone a bit before speaking again.

“Perfect, I’ll text you when I get off work. Bye y/n. Have a good night fake girlfriend.” After that he left the call and it ended.

God

You threw your phone across the couch and covered your face, why on earth was he making you freak out. This felt like middle school all over again. His voice was so smooth. You had to calm DOWN, you still don’t know the important things about him. Like occupation! He could be a hitman for all you know, or a pimp trying to lure you in! Wait, what would a pimp or hitman be doing on club penguin? You were just psyching yourself out.

Quickly gaining composure you walked to your room and grabbed your pjs. You were in a major need of a hot shower, and so that’s what you decided to do. You let the water wash away your stress. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you thought about Felix. You really couldn’t help it; he was such a gentleman AND HE LIKED CLUB PENGUIN!

MAYBE you were swooning for him just a little bit...

Getting out of the shower you walked out to the living room in a big t shirt and old boxers you had. Half your clothes were hand me downs from the boys, you didn’t complain, you loved it. Sprawling out on the couch you found yourself scrolling aimlessly on the TV. You didn’t really know what to watch, however your curiosity was still peaked with Stray Kids. Clicking onto the YouTube icon you typed in Stray Kids. The first thing to pop up was a music video titled Maniac, clicking it you were quickly enamored. You understood why they were so popular nowadays. Before you went to click more and deep dive into the music videos, you decided to tell Felix about them. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @bloofairyfox @yellowroses-world @g4m3girl Taglist is always open just ask :) ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Authors note: Hi everyone! Soooooo I am gonna be so real. I find chapter 3.5 so funny (to me at least) I might upload it later today. I actually did all my math for the next week early (by accident) so I will have time to write more hopefully! I also got to spend some quality time with my family yesterday! My dad and I really love watching Bluey together because it reminds us of when I was a kid. My dad reminds me so much of Bandit its insane :')

Oh did anyone watch Chans room yesterday?? I didn't get to watch it before it was listed as private :(

Anywho! I hope you guys are all having a good day :) it is still freezing where I am so please bundle up if it's the same for you! Hugs n kisses <3

#lee felix x reader #stray kids #straykids #kpop #skz #skzxreader #straykids x reader #stray kids x reader #lee felix #lee felix x female reader #txt post #txt taehyun #soobin #beomgyu #hueningkai #yeonjun

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thatfailedpokemontrainer · 18 days

Note

Pelipper mail!

[Oh! It's a letter from Polaris!]

“Dear Sprite, Beedrill, and Tari

So so so sorry this letter is late. We finally resolved the Walrein situation. Unfortunately…well, the pod will only accept Wallace as the leader of their pod, so I’m going to have to leave him to stay at the shelter. He’ll be fine, he was getting bored at the house, but I’m sure he’ll miss his daily Beedrill inspections. Skie got it in xer head that I should do an interview on the main sanctuary account while I’m in town, so it looks like its going to be another week. My work never stops it seems! Ah well.

Sprite: ….I’m going to be honest Sprite, I’m not exactly delighted by that news. You. Told Kittsu to leave and she did. That’s not great! That’s super not great actually! Just- fucking dist Sprite. I’m not. mad. A smidge frustrated but not mad.

….I hope your outing was fun, and that you feel better soon. Make sure youre drinking water and eating regular meals and getting enough sleep. Please take care of yourself, bubs.

Beedrill: Your support in my caring for Bird means everything to me Beedrill. This week she got to pet more Spheals and ride (very safely) on a snowmobile. She says it was very loud but a bit cool. Matcha has been banned, but she does enjoy mochi.

As for service pokemon. The main reason for keeping service pokemon and battling pokemon separate, is specifically in the case of medical alert and task pokemon. For example, if Orion was a battler and I was battling with him, if I started having problems with my heart, he would be too distracted by the battle and wouldn’t be able to alert me to sit and calm down, or fetch my medicine. Or if I had a panic attach while he was battling, he may not notice and be able to task to help me out of it. That’s the main reason for not having a pokemon do both. It’s possible to have a service pokemon also be able to battle, but it’s a bit frowned upon for those reasons. It really depends on what tasks the pokemon will be trained to do to help you out. If you’d like, it’s something we can discuss at length when I get home. I would be happy to train a service pokemon for you if that was something you wanted.

Tari: Glad that Corro is keeping Jester in check haha. And I’m especially happy to hear that you and Delta have made up! Good job kicking its ass at air hockey, much respect. I used to be quite good at air hockey in my college days…perhaps we should battle it out to see who’s the best when I come home, yeah? I appreciate your thanks, but it is unneeded. You are always welcome in my home Tari, no matter what.

Lots of love for you not kids

-Polaris and Bird”

[A letter is returned, later than usual]

Hello Professor. I was glad when your letter arrived, Sprite had got it in his head that something bad had happened to you and we both enjoyed this letter. I will miss Wallace, Admittedly, I do wish I had some of his DNA and a small laboratory to study him and come to my own conclusion on weather he was a dual typed pokemon, or a fraud. I hope he finds peace at the sanctuary. In your next letter I would like to know how bird is doing, as not hearing from her directly has made me rather on edge. Could you please include an excerpt from her in the next letter. Tell her she doesn't need to write in cursive, or use code name, just something, even a drawing would be good. I will think over the service pokemon thing. Theres nothing wrong with me to a diagnosable extent. I don't think giving a service pokemon out to someone who doesn't need one would be the best course of action. Maybe a normal pokemon would do just fine. I have been hanging out more with your green haired friend. It's interesting. I have a couple more observations, but i'll spesify them when I have more evidence to back them up.

----

Hi proffesor :o

I've got a gift for youuuuuu when you come back!! I won you some stuff at the arcade- we spent all of our tickets on it but I think it will be worth it

Also what are your fav colours, I've been bracelet making recently and feel like making something for you and sprite, based on one of its favourite songss~

And also I am the reneinging champion of air hockey, but thats just because everyones too scared to take me on since i keep hitting peoples fingers.

Have a good week proffesor. Hear from you soon. Beedrill

Tari

Sprite.

#sprite :>#pkmn irl #pokeblogging #rotumblr #pokemon #rotomblr #pokemon irl #pkmn

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nightttdreamers · 2 years

Text

Coolest Place in the World / Craig x Kenny

yay crenny one-shot! writing craig was a lot of fun, as in i gave him Problems and made him suffer a little but all for a happy sappy fluffy romantic ending!

TW for recreational drug use and suggestive content (off-screen smut)

if you like this pls feel free to leave a like as it will make my day and i will start smiling at my computer like an idiot! formattings a bit better on ao3 if you prefer to read there

AO3 Link | 4k words | One-Shot

Craig Tucker hates beer. He hates parties. He hates college. He hates the fact that he never feels like himself and he can't connect with people.

He finds Kenny McCormick who changes at least one of those things.

The party sucks.

It’s fine, because Craig didn’t expect it to be fun. As far as he’s concerned, every party sucks. College parties consist of a bunch of strangers pretending to have things in common to hide how deeply lonely and miserable their lives are. At least in South Park they didn’t have to pretend. There, he could always step away from the music and the crowd and everyone would know that it’s just Craig needing some Craig time. In college, he can’t sulk in the corner or rely on his obnoxious friends to pull him out to the dance floor. If he goes to a party, he has to take several smoke breaks just so he can be alone without looking like a loser.

He feels around in his pocket. He’s out of cigarettes.

“Craig!” Shouts a familiar voice. Clyde emerges from the crowd, triumphantly holding up two beer bottles like trophies. He’s grinning, like grabbing them drinks at a party his fraternity is throwing is some big accomplishment.

Craig is happy he made it out of South Park. Granted, he only made it as far as Denver, but he was glad he could get into any college that wasn’t local with his grades. And even though his goal was to get as far as he could from that shithole town, having Clyde around still is nice. Though the two actually attend different schools in the city, Clyde still drags Craig to social outings like he did in their hometown.

“What took you so long?” Craig asks, accepting the bottle that Clyde holds out to him. He’s the furthest thing from a lightweight, unlike Clyde, so the beer is basically useless to him.

“Got held up with the brothers,” the brunette explains. Craig wishes they were with their old gang just so he could make fun of how lame Clyde sounds when he calls the other members of his fraternity his “brothers.” But, the brothers were kind enough to let Clyde bring Craig tonight (even though Clyde had thoroughly explained that Craig was gay and would not be stealing any girls from them), and he didn’t feel like getting kicked out for dissing the hosts. “You having fun, man?” Clyde asks.

“Sure,” he muses, sipping his lukewarm beer. “This tastes like ass.”

“What?” Clyde shouts over the music, leaning in closer.

Fuck, he hates yelling at parties. “This tastes like ass!” He repeats, louder this time. Though it's unlikely, he follows up with “Wanna go smoke?”

Clyde pulls away, scratching the back of his neck. “I dunno, I don’t think that’s my thing tonight.”

Sometimes, at parties, Craig turns into an asshole. Like, an actual asshole. It’s something about the combination of too many strangers, crappy music, and whatever substance he’s ingesting that makes him so irritable. Right now, he hates Clyde a little bit for having such a dodgy answer. He hates himself a little bit too for asking a question he already knew the answer to. He really hates that he’s only been there for thirty minutes and already needs a break, but Clyde’s completely fine.

But, Craig doesn’t let this show, he just shrugs and nods like he doesn’t care and he’s a normal person capable of enjoying shitty beer at a shitty party.

“I think there’s a dude in the yard selling, though,” Clyde offers with a helpful smile. “Overheard some guys in the kitchen talking about it.”

“I’ll check it out,” Craig responds, giving Clyde a small nod before he heads towards the backyard. He’s grateful for the fresh air once he heads outside, but not the realization that comes with it: Clyde probably thinks his offer was about getting high and not just getting his nicotine fix, which is why he was sent outside to find the party’s dealer.

He feels like an idiot. The last time he tried to get high with Clyde, the brunette cried for an hour.

Still, smoking would give him something to do with his hands right now, so he follows the scent of weed in the air to the presumed dealer. However, he stops dead in his tracks once he realizes who he’s really approaching.

There’s two girls, but he hardly notices them beside the blonde boy that they’re talking to. His nose is bent at a bad angle, like it’s been broken a few too many times. His shaggy blonde hair looks like it’s been cut with kitchen scissors, falling just above his shoulders. Most notably though, he has a cigarette poking out between rows of crooked teeth, lips curled into a cocky smile. The boy raises his brows like one of the girls told him something of interest, and then he turns and locks eyes with Craig.

Craig is a few feet away, probably looking like an absolute idiot with his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans. After some eye contact that’s far too direct for his liking, he mutters, “Hey.”

Kenny McCormick removes the cigarette from his mouth and stares at Craig with wide eyes, resembling his nine-year old self so much that Craig knows he can’t be wrong about this. “Craig Tucker.”

Craig glances around for some reason, like Kenny could possibly be mistaking him for someone else. “Yeah.”

Kenny nudges the girls next to him without looking away from him. “Have a good night, ladies,” he says, handing them a joint that’s been tucked behind his ear. The girls take it and head off, giving Craig strange looks.

His mouth feels dry. He hasn’t seen Kenny since middle school, no one has. The last thing he expected was to find him, let alone in Denver in the backyard of Clyde’s frat party. He also wasn’t expecting Kenny to have gotten so hot, but he doesn’t linger on that for long because Kenny’s still staring at him and saying nothing. “So you sell weed in the backyard of frat parties now?”

This question seems to bring the blonde back to reality, reminding him of where he is. He takes his eyes off Craig and looks down at the money in his hands, sliding his backpack off to tuck it away. “Yeah, amongst other things. These Denver kids pay anything. I just charged those girls thirty bucks for a J. Are you-” Kenny’s eyes darted between the contents of his backpack and Craig. “Are you looking to buy? I got everything.”

“I’m not really looking to pay thirty bucks for a joint,” Craig replied flatly.

Kenny cracks another smile, pulling a joint out from his backpack and holding it out. “Friends and family discount. This one’s on the house.” Just as Craig reaches to take it, Kenny pulls it back. “But you gotta share.”

Craig knits his brows together. “What?”

“Consider it an act of South Park solidarity,” Kenny says. Craig wants to question him, but he holds his tongue. Honestly, all he wants to do right now is talk to Kenny.

There’s something wrong with Craig. He doesn’t really know what, but he knows that it keeps him tied to his hometown in the worst ways. Clyde seems unaffected; He can go to college and play sports and join fraternities and flirt with girls, living off beer and dining hall food. Meanwhile, Craig feels like he’s watching his life from the passenger seat, and whoever’s supposed to be steering him is making all the wrong choices.

But right now, with Kenny, he feels like he’s behind the wheel again. Despite how much he hates South Park, he could always be himself there in a way he can’t be in Denver.

Kenny’s looking at him again in that way, and Craig realizes he hasn’t been talking. “Yeah. Better than hanging out in there,” he says, glancing back at the frat house.

“So, you’re in the frat?” Kenny asks, and Craig is grateful for how skeptical the question is.

“Hell no. I don’t even go to this school. I tagged along with someone.” He doesn’t say he’s here with Clyde. He doesn’t really know why. It feels a bit selfish, but Clyde doesn’t need this like Craig does.

“And they let you in?” Kenny asks, sparking the joint. He takes a few puffs before passing it over.

“Barely,” Craig pauses, taking a hit. “Is there tobacco in this?”

Kenny grins, seeming incredibly proud of himself. “I remember you were one of the only non-goth kids that actually liked smoking. I figured you would be a spliff enjoyer.”

Craig just stares at him for a second before replying, because Kenny McCormick might be his savior right now. Something pulls at his chest, but he’ll blame it on the smoke. “Nice,” he says, which he hopes tells Kenny thank you, you’re an angel and not just because you’ve given me my nicotine fix.

“Frats never let me in at first,” Kenny says, running a hand through his hair, revealing a few hidden ear piercings. Hot. “And then I open the backpack and I’m like, hey, this party is going to be super fucking lame without me. And they go, oh you’re the weed guy.”

Craig hands back the spliff, nodding. “And that’s who you are? The weed guy?”

Kenny scoffs. “Motherfucker, I’m the everything guy. I’ve got weed, I’ve got coke, molly, poppers, shrooms, acid. I have narcan, I have condoms and lube, I’ve got fucking advil. I am literally the life and death of the party.”

Craigs brows raise, and not just because Kenny looked right at him when he mentioned poppers. “Damn,” he says, because he’s not sure how else to respond. There’s a lot going through his mind. When was the last time he actually saw Kenny? Maybe it's because they’ve been passing the spliff back and forth, but Craig feels like he still hasn’t fully taken this all in yet. He’s not sure if he’ll see most of the kids from his old class again. But the last person he ever expected to run into would be Kenny.

“You’re staring,” the blonde says, prompting Craig to open his mouth to come up with some excuse. “It’s cool, I’m kind of staring too.” Craig looks into Kenny's eyes, which are darting all over his face like he’s looking for something. “It’s crazy.”

“When was the last time I saw you? Middle school?” Craig asks, trying to justify his fixed gaze.

“Probably,” Kenny replies with a shrug. He turns away then, taking a deep drag before passing it over.

“You dropped off the face of the earth,” Craig says. He lets the joint sit between his fingers for a moment. It wasn’t uncommon for Kenny to ditch school for periods of time, which is why it’s not clear exactly when he dropped out of school entirely. Craig just remembers about a month or so going by before people started realizing that he wasn’t coming back. “Everyone thought you died.”

“I did,” Kenny says without an ounce of sarcasm in his voice.

Craig blames the strange reply on the fact that they’re both a little high. “Shut up,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“No joke. I died, and death was like ‘Okay let’s go asshole’ but then I woke up not dead the next morning, and figured that I probably had some shit to get done, so I left.” Kenny looks at Craig like he’s told the story dozens of times.

Craig takes a hit, because he doesn’t know what to say and he doesn’t really know what to do with his hands. That feeling he gets when he talks to strangers comes back up, he’s back in the passenger’s seat. He knows he��s about to say something incredibly stupid. “It’s like The Seventh Seal.”

Kenny quirks a brow. “What?”

Craig does not mean to keep talking, but the obnoxious film student side of him seems to be taking over. “It’s, uh, this old Swedish movie about this guy who returns from war and he meets Death and Death tries to take him but he thinks he has more to do so he challenges Death to a game of chess.” And then, he hears himself saying something possibly even stupider than an insanely outdated film reference. “I can show it to you.”

Everything is slowed down, leaving the conversation-killing comments Craig just made to hang in the air between them. He remembers now why he doesn’t get high at parties, because then he has to talk to people. Kenny’s expression is completely unreadable, and Craig is just about ready for his only lifeline at the party to ditch him.

“Like right now?” Kenny asks.

Craig almost coughs, but plays it off as him clearing his throat. “What? I mean, I meant like-”

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Kenny cuts him off, dropping the nearly finished spliff on the ground and stomping it out. He looks back up at Craig, then smiles. “Didn’t seem like either of us were really having fun anyway.”

“Yeah,” he replies unsurely, followed by a firmer “Okay.” Clyde’s not gonna be happy. Kenny begins walking out of the yard, and when he’s not looking, Craig shoots his friend a text; heading out. feeling weird. hangover breakfast tomorrow?

He feels a little bad, but then he looks up at the back of Kenny’s head, that choppy blonde hair, and the sounds from the party begin to fade out into the night as they slip through the side of the house, and he doesn’t care about anything else.

The walk back is long. Craig’s campus is on the other side of town, about a forty minute walk. Kenny doesn’t offer up his place, and Craig doesn’t question him. All the deliberation about their destination is Kenny asking if he lives in a dorm (yes), and then if he has a roommate (no). They talk about what they’ve been up to for the last five years. For Craig, it’s pretty mundane. Trying not to flunk out, lamenting his little sister’s journey into young adulthood, dealing with his obnoxious friends.

Luckily, Kenny does most of the talking. He was pretty quiet when they were younger, Craig remembers, only chiming in with a dirty joke or insult towards one of his friends. But now, he’s expressive as he explains what he did after running away from home with a stolen car. Whatever calling he felt all those years ago told him that he needed to make some kind of money. He seems a little sensitive about how he ended up dealing, leaving out some details that Craig doesn’t ask for. However, Kenny boasts that he’s able to send it back to Karen to keep the lights on back home. Though he might’ve gone missing for the rest of the town, he’s kept in touch with her.

It’s the most Craig has enjoyed someone else’s company in a good while. When Kenny speaks, Craig finds himself brushing against his arm. It’s cold, and the little bit of warmth he gets from those small moments of contact radiate through his entire body. There’s something magnetic about Kenny. When they make it to his dorm, it’s like no time at all has passed.

Craig opens the door to let Kenny in and feels more nervous than he has in a while. It just hits him in that moment that Kenny’s actually in his dorm, they didn’t even do this when they were kids. Then, the other realization that he has a guy in his single room to watch a fucking movie hits, and Craig wipes his palms on the side of his jeans.

“Congrats, Craig, this is the most generic dorm room I’ve ever seen,” Kenny says. He’s walking around the small space, arms folded over his chest.

“What?” Craig asks, closing the door behind them.

“No posters, plain blue comforter, you’ve got like one family photo and some dirty clothes on the floor as the only indicators that someone actually lives here.”

Craig tries to think of an excuse that’s not I don’t feel like I could ever make this space my own, and then realizes that, what the fuck it’s just Kenny McCormick ripping on him, same way they all used to rip on each other. “So you see the inside of a lot of dorm rooms, then?”

Kenny smirks, his face now fully visible in the room’s fluorescent light. Craig stares again. “Are you slut shaming me right now, Tucker?” He asks, though he doesn’t seem offended in the least. Craig forgets to breathe for a second. Is he flirting with me?

“Don’t we have a movie to watch?” Craig says. He wants to change the subject from the dangerous territory they almost just approached. “You can sit,” he says, gesturing to his bed before he grabs his laptop off his desk.

Kenny drops his backpack onto the ground, kicks off his shoes, then sits down on Craig’s navy comforter, leaning back against the wall.

Craig sits beside him, keeping a respectable difference, and starts looking through his downloads folder to find the movie. He tries his hardest to keep his eyes on the screen, even though he knows that Kenny’s looking at him right now.

“You want me to turn the lights off?” The blonde asks, pushing down on the top of Craig’s computer a little bit. Craig only responds with a small nod. He watches Kenny get up, looks at the way his torn-up jeans fit him, the flash of those ear piercings. He watches Kenny and makes a decision.

“You know, I do have one cool thing in my room,” Craig says as Kenny sits back down on the bed.

“Yeah? A shitty porno stash?” Kenny teases again, and Craig can just see his cocky smirk in the dim light of his computer.

“No, asshole,” Craig replies. He turns to his night-stand and turns on a small, black projector. The room lights up in different shades of purples and blues that dance across his ceiling in waves, accented by tiny stars of different shapes and sizes, all swirling around the two of them. Kenny just looks up, his smirk fading fast. “Um, I used to have these glow in the dark stars in my room at home, but I thought that if someone came to my dorm and saw them, they’d think I’m really fucking lame. Which, I might be a little bit. But, I don’t know, it’s cool to look at when I’m high and it, uh, kind of reminds me of being home.”

Kenny looks back to him, his face glowing in all different colors in the light of the projector. “You’ve changed.”

Craig raises his brows, not quite expecting that response. “Since I was thirteen? No shit.”

“Nevermind, still the same sarcastic asshole,” Kenny says, chuckling. “Maybe you haven’t changed, then. Maybe I just never got to see you this…” He trails off.

“This what?”

“This closely.”

It occurs to Craig how close the two have gotten now. There’s no more respectable distance. He looks down to see that their knees are touching now and when he looks back up, Kenny’s leaning in to kiss him.

It’s short-lived. When they stop, Kenny stays close, his lips just hovering over Craig’s. He’s asking if I want to keep going. Craig reaches up and runs a hand through Kenny’s hair, pulling him back in. The two shift, with Craig leaning back and Kenny coming to straddle him. There’s an unpleasant sounding thud from below them, and Craig realizes they’ve knocked the computer off the bed.

“Shit,” Kenny mutters.

Craig just chuckles. “Forget about the fucking movie.”

He wakes up the next morning to the sight of Kenny’s bare ass across the room.

It takes him a few seconds to remember how he ended up in this situation. Right. Clyde’s party. Found Kenny in the backyard. Came back to the dorm. Had insanely good sex. No wonder he feels so sore.

Craig basks in the view for a second, not just of Kenny’s ass as he pulls his boxers on, but of Kenny in general. He knew he felt something with Kenny last night, and attributing that to their shared history just didn’t feel right. From the moment they kissed, Craig realized that their connection actually ran much deeper than he thought.

He admires Kenny in the morning light the way he couldn’t last night, spotting freckles he didn’t see, little scars and birthmarks. However, the realization that Kenny’s getting dressed pulls him out of his just-woken-up haze.

“Got somewhere to be?” Craig asks, voice groggy with sleep.

Kenny jumps, looking back to him. “Shit, I was trying not to wake you up.”

He sits up now, pulling the comforter up to cover his lower body. “You were just gonna leave without saying anything?” Craig asks, hating how childish he sounds.

“You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want to disturb you,” Kenny replies, though Craig can tell he’s not being sincere.

The warm fuzzy feeling in his chest quickly vanishes, leaving a cold hollowness. He’s done one-night stands before, why does he care if Kenny wants to slip away without a word? Without any hint that he wants to see Craig again?

And why does the thought of Kenny leaving hurt so bad?

“What the fuck, Kenny?” He says, trying to keep his voice even.

Kenny looks around, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know what you want me to say here, Craig. Last night was great? I had fun?

Craig swallows. Maybe it was all just one-sided. Maybe that was just sex for him. “Sorry,” he says, looking anywhere but Kenny. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m not trying to make you stay if you don’t want to. Last night was kind of more than just fun for me.” He leans forward, putting his head in his hands.

Kenny sits on the bed across from him. “What do you mean?”

Craig sighs, keeping his gaze fixed down on his bed. “I don’t know. I thought you would stick around.”

“Do you… want me to stay?” Kenny asks. Craig looks up at him, and Kenny’s expression is plain as day. He’s scared.

Craig’s brows knit together, and he knows he needs to be plain with how he feels right now. “Of course I want you to stay.”

Kenny looks off,, and it’s like Craig can see him sorting things out in his head. After a little while, a smile comes across his face, and Craig lets out a breath. “Shit, this doesn’t usually happen.”

His candid response prompts a laugh from Craig, which Kenny quickly returns.

“Move over, Tucker,” the blonde says, giving the other a push. Craig slides over in his twin bed, leaving just enough room for Kenny to slide under the comforter beside him. “I wasn’t trying to fuck and duck, I just didn’t think you’d want me to see me in the morning.”

Craig props himself up on his elbow, watching Kenny who still seems too nervous to recline. “Why wouldn’t I want to see you?”

Kenny opens his mouth like there are a million reasons on his tongue. Instead, after a moment, he just lays back down, looking up at Craig with a smile. “No clue. I’m a catch.”

Craig laughs again, rolling his eyes.

“So, what now? You wanna cuddle and all that gay shit?” Kenny asks, gently tracing a finger over Craig’s forearm.

Craig’s not quite sure what he wants to do. He wants to get closer, wrap his arms around Kenny and drift back to sleep. He wants to kiss every freckle along his shoulders and work his way down. He wants to ask Kenny about every scar he can see in the cold morning light. He just wants to bask in this moment for a while.

“How about that movie?”

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jonathangoodbyers · 2 years

Text

these are my thoughts on the bullshit

eddies death made me cry for the first time in nearly two years and i am a master of repressing my emotions so great cool

eddie is a goddamn moron for dying like that and im mad at him

im going to construct intricate fantasies in my head so he stops being dead there at least

lame and gay that they only had dustin and wayne munson actually visibly mourning him, as if he wasn't also friends with mike.

WILL BYERS: come get a hug baby. him telling mike about his own feelings but pretending that it was eleven who felt those things -> made me very upset. will has been crying a lot and he doesn't deserve it at all. will is so deeply and tragically in love with mike it breaks my heart

steve??? his ending here is basically that he confesses to nancy and then nothing? LAME.

its good that steve acknowledges his own growth and it being spurred by nancy but that doesn't mean that they were like ,, destined to be together. why couldn't he just be like hey thanks for making me see that i was an asshole and ive changed for the better, lets be friends?

jonathan is still lying to nancy about the college thing??? after AAALLL of that??? also lame

what happened to dmitri and yuri. did they just drop off joyce, hopper and murray and then flew back to russia together? are they hanging out? are they going back to their families? who knows not me

season 4 is the season of Max Suffering

and she doesn't deserve iiittt

it did think that she was gonna die for a minute there but im sure she'll make a comeback next season somehow.

i do have a sneaking feeling she might be permanently blind

maybe its because i never got over billy but i think it's a shame that max wasn't really able to work through her trauma abt it with vecna after all. obv she did get some closure in "dear billy" but the last thing she said regarding him was 'yea sometimes i prayed he would die in a car crash and also im suicidal now' like?? she was saying that to bait henry into getting her but i feel like it might've been nice if later on she had tried to resist by saying she did miss billy in some way. like ooh henry you were wrong actually about me being glad that billy is dead bc thats not entirely true !! i mean i think she has very conflicting feelings about him. like yea she did hate him but she also loved him in a way and that can coexist.

i need to stop talking about billy sorry

couldn't anyone give poor dustin some crutches? that boy is limping.

jason dying unceremoniously by just burning up from the earth opening? good. he deserves it a little bit kind of. like yea he didnt understand what was going on but god that boy was annoying.

brenner dead? also good. hes been nothing but a menacing creep since the beginning of the show and im glad he's gone. love that eleven didnt give him the satisfaction of saying that she understood why he did what he did. just love that for her.

where the fuck did that sword come from that hopper used to kill the demogorgon??

robin and vickie 🥰🥰🥰

i knew Vickie's boyfriend wasn't gonna last after that one scene that he was in.

lucas :(((

watching him hold max while she was dying was so painful. so. she better get back thats all im saying

henry?? annoying ass bitch.

i feel like his character is about rejection, being unloved and only seeing the worst in people because of it. which is whyyy it would make sense if his ending was about accepting that people can be good and bad, guilty and innocent. that having done bad things doesn't ruin you as a person, bc thats what he keeps trying to show his victims, that they ARE bad people for their guilt and trauma. a satisfying resolution would be about convincing him to see the good in people. but his ending will probably be more along the lines of big explosion fireball eleven screaming.

eleven and max's friendship >>>>>

el better get her bestie back.

okay those are all my thots so far

#stranger things spoilers #st4 #eddie munson #max mayfield #eleven #stranger things #steve harrington

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knullanon · 2 years

Note

Invincible, mark’s older sister seemingly didn’t get powers, but after mark got his, Nolan is led to believe that she’s hiding her powers. It’s an awkward conversation for a returning college student

hmmmmmm.... good idea blooming.... also this?? was so good for me to write?? it just felt like I actually wrote something good??? thank u for this, I'm tired but I'm actually happy rn thank u :)

Disappointment

words: 2401

summary: getting accepted to a college almost across the country was you plan, but now that your father is suspicious of your timing, you realize it's not going to go to plan.

warnings: arguing,

--------

markie: did dad tell you about the family dinner tonight...

me: what dinner?

markie: he wanted to host a dinner to show his congratulations on you getting into collage

markie: lol, lucky ass. I'm getting tossed to the curb when I get out of highschool 😭

me: nuh-uh, bitch, I'm bringing your ass w me!! fuck this shit

me: besides can't be that bad. bring up a map and show me mongolia

markie: …bitch are you for real

me: YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE MONGOLIA IS????

markie: …no :')

me: yeah you're getting kicked out lmao

You shut off your phone to stare out the window of the cab, starting to wonder if it was a good idea to even tell your dad about the acceptance. The original plan you had was to get whatever college accepted you first and get a plane ticket, a dorm, the whole thing, and then tell him.

You already knew how angry he would've been, and the only reason you had told him a few days after the letter came was because of a mix of guilt, self doubt, and most of all fear. What would he do if you just told him "hey, leaving in 2 hours, say your goodbyes until maybe Christmas"? It wouldn't be a disaster, it would be the disaster.

The memories of him being so mad, no, enraged at you leaving the house only telling Debbie came back to you within those 3 days. With him being possessive and angry whenever you didn't do something right...

And when your powers never showed up, it almost felt like he was disappointed. You were, supposedly, disappointed as well, but for those first few months, he acted like he only had you for those reasons.

Which is exactly why you wanted to get out. It's why you started saving up, getting better grades, looking for possible places to live, colleges, everything you've done was now for what you wanted, and it was no longer just the "I'm going to be a hero" route.

While, yes it was a struggle to get everything in order and actually do it secretly, it was supposed to be worth it. Now, you were almost regretting deciding to announce it.

The slowness of the car made you focus, and you saw the house you were almost dreading to see. Was dreading the right word? You didn't know.

It almost felt unreal. You hadn't been going to actually live in the place for almost a year. Sure, you visited now and then, but you were more focused on your job, and more importantly, the research to get out of town.

Walking up the steps, you didn't even knock on the door when it almost slammed open. You were about to be knocked on your ass if not for the strong arms embracing you in a tight hug.

"_______! You take forever with everything!" Mark lifted you up into the air, and spun you around, before he set you down again.

"We're almost done with dinner, let's get your stuff back up!"

~~~~~

You thought looking at your room, neatly presented and almost untouched was a slap in the face of how much you missed home. And then you actually started talking to everyone.

"Oh, honey, I'm so glad you got that scholarship! I know you've always wanted that college for a while." Debbie was still the supporting mom you remember, always wanting for you what you wanted. "What major did you pick?"

You ate some food off your plate before you responded. "Well, they haven't said which ones they were available because of last years over-acceptance, but I was thinking of-"

"Where is the college, again?"

Oh no. Here was the conversation you were hoping to avoid. "It's on the West Coast, dad." Nolan was already looking pissed, and while you knew why, it still almost hurt on why he was like that. He set down his hand, and continued talking. "Why not a college nearby? Even a state away would be better than that, right Debbie?"

Debbie simply turned towards her husband before turning back to you. "_____, while I'm happy you got into a college, Nolan does have a point. What made you think of going so far."

Fortunately, overthinking sometimes gives you an advantage in these situations. "Well, I kinda just went for the top colleges since I had good grades. I mean, I'm never going to have a guaranteed job, so I might as well make sure I will."

You almost regretted your words as soon as they came out, but it was too late.

Nolan simply hummed, before he continued his dinner. Debbie realized what you meant, but she just simply lingered back to her food. You didn't turn your head to look at Mark, but you could feel the tension in the room. He probably felt it as well.

Which is probably why he spoke up. "So, dad, uh, I heard you caught a weird bird man?"

Nolan, who visibly jolted, looked up at his son and replied, "Oh yeah, that guy. Huh, I'll tell you that he was weird and creepy at the same time. So, I was flying around town when..."

~~~~~~

2 hours later, and you were sitting up in bed on your phone, looking through your phone, and reading through different news stories. The bird ones were almost comical to read, and the Invincible stories were wholesome or made you proud.

What if you did that?

You cut that thought out as a story popped up, the headline in big bold letters:

KILLER OF GUARDIANS OF THE GLOBE: WHO, WHY, AND HOW?

You clicked on it, remembering attending the funeral a few weeks prior.

While the killer hasn't been found, it has been notified that Omni-Man, the only survivor of the attack, has been found to be healthy and is now continuing his hero work. Meanwhile, the deaths of these heroes has been affecting the whole world and while support and love have been shown from around the globe, it does bring up a new question: who will be the new Guardians of The Globe, and will they meet the expectations of the world?

You sat there staring at the screen for a minute, before you started to actually think about the whole situation. It just made you feel more guilty.

You could be helping! Saving lives! Making your family proud! But instead, you decide to live a life and leave them to help themselves! For what? Will you not be a good hero? Will you do nothing anyway?

Are you afraid of him?

You tossed yourself off your bed, and grabbed your headphones, and put on a jacket and some comfy pants.

Walking outside of your room, you remembered you didn't drive here, so you couldn't drive anywhere, which narrowed down a lot of places. Then, an idea came to your mind. You tiptoed over to your parents room, and saw that they were fast asleep. You did the same thing to Mark's room, and saw the same thing.

You decided that the coast was clear for the night, at least. You flew to the outside and up and into the air. It does feel better to move this fast without feeling like I'm giving up something, you thought to yourself.

And while you flew off to find a mountain. Nolan stared out the window, mouth gaping as he saw you fly away.

~~~~~

The silence helped out a lot. Just being left alone with our thoughts makes you calm down.

Everything had happened so fast. You were ready to go, and relax with your mostly stress free life, when they just... died. You knew you shouldn't be mad at dead people, it wasn't their fault, you saw the devastation it had caused, and yet...

You were pissed. Everything was working. Everything was in motion, why hadn't it worked? Oh, that's why, because someone decided to murder all of these people and then your guilty conscience was fucking you up now?

You didn't want to fill in their shoes, you didn't want to deal with their problems, that was for your brother, your dad, actual heroes. You knew why you didn't want to be a hero: it was obvious.

You weren't meant to be one.

When you got your powers, you were so excited to tell your mom, your dad, Mark: especially Mark: it would've been good to rub it into the face of an annoying 9 year old Mark.

And then you looked at the actual job of a hero.. What they did, what they achieved, everything: it wasn't for you. You didn't have the patience, the attitude, or anything to do it.

So, you hid it all. You only used the powers when you were practicing, like flying around a mountain, or practicing fighting. You were almost caught some times- the news article of a strange blur of a human figure going at Mach 2 near Mount Everest made you think you were done for- but it had all ended up good and great.

And now you were guilty: you were guilty of not helping. Of not being there for others. And now look at what happened.

Taking out your headphones and shutting off your music, you sat and watched the night sky go by. You didn't know where you had flown to, only that you were having a very big moment, and that no one could take it from you.

Except, that's what you believed until you heard him.

"So, UC San Diego, huh?"

You whipped around, flying in the sky for a minute before realizing your mistake and setting yourself on the ground.

"Oh, you think that's gonna convince me?" He said, now setting himself on the ground. "Like I didn't see you fly to this mountain and then fly off the goddamn ground."

"It's not your business anyway." You turned your head to the side, refusing to look him in the eye.

"Oh, so not only can I not have a say in the colleges you go to, but I can't have a say in your powers?" By now he was right in front of you, and you felt the anger and rage coming off of him, almost like an alarm, flashing over and over again, telling you to get out.

"You never had the choice to do anything I did." You ground out back, realizing now that it was fruitless to sit back and wait for him to say something else, so you decided fuck it, you're already waist deep in this shit.

"Oh, really? Like I'm just some random guy who wants to use you?" He almost chuckled

"Well from the looks of it, you are." You turned to face him, now in his face instead of the other way around. "When you realized it wasn't gonna happen, you acted like I was nothing! Like I was just a burden to the family. I wasn't gonna break easy, I knew you only wanted me for my abilities. And you have Mark for that now, don't you? You couldn't have cared about me for a minute after you realized that I was just what you didn't want: a normal human with no abilities."

He didn't say anything, only looked at you with almost a softer look, but still mad.

"Yeah, look at you. You're realizing I'm not an idiot. You liked Mark so much more than me, huh? When you realized he was the perfect son?"

His fists curled up as he sat back, maybe for the first time in a while during your arguments. "I didn't tell you because I don't want you as a dad: I wish you weren't anything related to me. You proved me right on a lot of things, but this one- this one takes the cake.

"You just wanted a kid who was just like you, who you could train to do whatever you wanted."

Nolan didn't know what to say: that he loved you still, even if you never did have powers? That you were still his daughter? That you were his pride and joy, and that no matter what you did he would always be with you?

But then he saw it: he was disappointed in the fact that you didn't have powers. He was so excited for that moment: when you got them. Honestly, he was much more prepared for you to join his side rather than Mark. He saw it in you, he knew it was there.

And then he ruined it. Because of his selfishness and stupidity. He realized that, in the moment, everything, you going to a different college, leaving suddenly, hiding your abilities: it was because he had failed.

He had realized that he was failing at his true mission: but he had failed at the one he wanted to do, as well.

He didn't realize you were walking away until the last minute. "Well, since you know what you did, you might as well go and tell Mark. And Mom."

He reached out, wanting to say something: but what? What could he possibly say to make anything better?

And when you turned around, and seeing you start to choke up and cry, he knew he couldn't do anything in the moment.

"______-"

But you flew away. It was quick too, making dust fly off the floor. The ground shook from the force. It made his heart ache even more, realizing you had been practicing flying on your own-

And there, he saw it. His behavior that had made you like this.

For one of the only times in his life, he felt like he was in the wrong. It came like a slap to the face. Like he had been hit by a planet and tossed around. It was this booming realization, and his guilt started to show itself.

He knew he had to fix this. There was no way he could leave this be: he had to prove to you that he was...

Not a good person. No, he realized that with his mission and failures he would never be that.

But maybe a better father. Maybe someone who you would be willing to talk it out with. He had to convince you of that, before you left.

And who knows, if you don't listen to reason, there's always the option of just holding you with them, until you are convinced of reason.

------

nolan you fucking moron

#yandere omni man #yandere omni man imagine #yandere omni man x reader #yandere nolan grayson #yandere nolan grayson imagine #yandere nolan grayson x reader #yandere invincible #yandere invincible imagine

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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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yostresswritinggirl · 3 years

Text

Modern Scenarios with Genshin Boys

Brainrot time - be glad, today was supposed to be angst but I had a change of heart.

"Hey, pick on someone your own size!" The first time you met Childe was when you were being bullied by some annoying bullies that had nothing to do but want to pick a fight. It was something you can handle really, and you were about to disperse the commotion when this big guy suddenly appeared as if you were his knight in shining armor. "It's the duty of the strong to protect the weak!" Did he just-?! THE AUDACITY!

Spurred on by your annoyance and your want to prove your strength, you joined the Karate club in your school where you heard he is part of. And in under a month you reached the second tier of the yellow belt. But you needed to become stronger, to reach that guy's black belt status so you can spar with him. He was too high to be directly involved with your training after all.

Finally when the fateful day comes, he looks at you with admiration at the other side of the mat, your determination and fast rank up had him enamored. But you had different plans. When the spar session started, you maneuvered around his kicks and finally did what you've always wanted to do— you wiped your dirty, uncovered foot against his face in a kick. Somehow he fell in love more.

You've been his lover for a while now, and restaurant dates are nothing uncommon in your relationship. And you know his habit of leaving behind his wallet even if he offered that tonight's date would be taken care of. After your lovely dinner session, lo and behold, he DID forget his wallet. But as the considerate lover, you took the liberty to bring your wallet with you even if he said you shouldn't-

Only to realize you brought the wrong wallet, only counting spare change for chicken nuggets. As compensation, you two spent the rest of the night forced to pay off your late bill by doing the restaurant dishes. It was not at all part of your itinerary, but as you start singing to alleviate the boredom and with Zhongli singing along, you had the most fun dancing around the kitchen with soapy arms and loose aprons.

You didn't even know that Zhongli could sing and dance that well! Plates were cleaned faster than any of you expected, and after the IOU contract that you're for sure fixing the next day, the two of your walk home hand in hand with the brightest smile you two had ever shared.

Oh, god, more frogs. Welcome to Biology class! You are partnered to be laboratory buddies with the ever enigmatic, science genius Albedo. He was so epic during Chemistry class, and you were praising the gods for finally bringing this ray of hope to raise up your grades effortlessly. You would think this class would flow by ever so nicely as you finish the plant studies, that is until zoology started and the professor starts talking about dissecting kits.

Your first project was to bring a frog to school to prep up for dissection. Okay, very wack, you thought as you turned to Albedo to ask how you two would even get a frog for the project. Until you saw a curious glint in his beautiful, teal eyes. Next thing you know he was over your house and as you two go around the fields in casual wear.

The fact that stores exist for buying frogs SPECIFICALLY for Biology and dissections was something Albedo held back from you, opting to wish to experience the class firsthand and beyond. It was in all honesty to get to know you better, even if most of the time you tripped on your ass over the mud of the fields trying to chase or run away from a frog. In the end he finally suggested to just buy one, to which you were furious, thankful and elated that you at least got to know the genius more.

Heavily inspired by Driver's License. You've just recently broken up with your boyfriend a day before you got your license to drive, something you were so proud of and excited to exercise together with your lover. But yet here you are crying your eyes out as you drove on the long and winding road of... somewhere. A deserted area with the next stop over or town miles and miles away, so when you happened upon a dejected voyager who clearly needs a lift, you offered him to be a hitchhiker. Xiao was thankful, really, but the ride was ever so awkward with the obvious puffy eyes and tear stains on your cheeks.

At one point, you remembered your ex once again and had to pull over before you end up killing the both of you through tear-stained vision. With sympathy, your hitchhiker offers to drive and a listening ear to your burdens, and it indeed lifted your spirits as he offers helpful advice on your pain. You part when you reached his home with a huge thank you for the lift, and you realized that you were just a town away from him.

The next time you saw him was an embarrassing moment you didn't expect to happen or come by so fast. Awkwardly standing by the roadside where your car was supposed to be, towed away because you didn't realize it was illegal to park there, an motorcyclist with a neon decorated bike suddenly pulled over in front of you. And when he takes off his helmet to offer you a ride, the smirk on Xiao's face doubles the embarrassment. You accepted the offer.

You are a secret agent tasked to assassinate a target you've been following and gathering data on for weeks now, the perfect opportunity happens to be a gathering of high class people, a party or ball even. You thought it would be a quick and easy operation until you realized a man named Kaeya seem to be hovering around your target too closely for your taste and ease. It seems the guy has a body guard in hand. Now your focus was on swaying this bluenette, who was thankfully very, very receptive and welcoming to your advances.

When you finally FINALLY managed to let him off your case and successfully separated him from your target, you hurried over to finish the assassination as you realized you've been lingering for far too long— only to see Kaeya about to stab your target before your interruption. It seems that instead of his body guard, Kaeya was actually a hitman hired to kill your target too, and had been dancing around together with you because he thought YOU were the body guard.

"Woah, this your target too?" "Hell yeah." "Yoooooo!" How ironic, you two laughed the coincidence out nonchalantly as your target bleeds to death besides you both. After escaping your almost jail time when the true body guards came to check on their boss, which made a very awesome action sequence as you exchanged bullets next to Kaeya, you learned that your agency had recruited a new fellow under its ranks. You didn't need a name and face to know who the sly bastard was.

You're not really the type of person to be into parties, not since high-school, and still no in college. Things were already a pain to deal with as the midterm examinations rolling in, but your roommate somehow managed to drag you into a popular college organization's midyear party before unceremoniously dipping to drink with the org members. As you cradle your alibi cup in a corner, staring into the raucous party, you realized someone else who's solo is accompanying you in silent brooding.

The two of you awkwardly introduce yourselves to each other before realizing that you've already met once or twice in campus grounds. "I don't really wanna be here." "Me neither." "Wanna dip?" Your relief didn't even need words to confirm your wants as you two slipped away from the mess, growing in intensity that you wouldn't even be suprised if the local authorities were to be called later on.

A little food date in the local 24/7 fast food restaurant nearby and exchange of numbers made your night a little bit better. So when you two found each other in another party you were dragged in again, your hand was held warm and tight within his as you two snickered, skipping out of the venue to have your own little party.

Hello there, welcome to the start of the fluffy days. Figured you're all sad and broken enough to finally enjoy some good ol' flutters.

@sk1nnyangelic @kookieyachi @bunniesrorange @anormalguyreader @scarletroseneko @albaedhoe @xiaophilia @heisenwurst @moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @nonniechan @creation-magician @hanniejji @gojos-baby @just-some-stars @volleybloop

#genshin impact x reader #exile.Flower #Albedo x Reader #xiao x reader #Zhongli x reader #Diluc x reader #Kaeya x reader #Childe x Reader #imagines #modern au #fluff #gender neutral #Be happy now fuckers #sojourner special

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in-ky · 3 years

Text

An Old Scent [1] - Negan x Reader (A/B/O AU)

Summary: During summer break, you decide to come back home to visit your dad, Rick. Over the course of your stay, you realize that your dad's friend is pretty hot.

Warnings: Eventual smut, A/B/O dynamics, cheating, age gap, Negan

A/N: yay first fic! this will have four parts! i hope everyone enjoys. this is an au where the apocalypse never happened. 3.2k words

I squinted as I stepped out into the bright Virginian sun. People swarmed all around me, creating the steady hum of airport ambience that I had grown accustomed to over the years. I had just gotten off a four-hour flight home from college and all I wanted to do was shower and curl up in bed. But I couldn't. Oh, no. First I had to endure a fun thirty-minute car ride with my best friend since second grade. I scanned the curb in front of me for her small black car and caught sight of a tall woman waving at me. I grinned and walked forward, tugging along my baggage behind me.

"Ugh, it's so good to see you, Bee." I sighed as I enveloped my friend into a large hug. She let out a laugh and swayed us gently.

"It's good to see you, too," She hummed, rustling my hair "I forgot how short you were." Bee was an alpha; tall, muscular, and very quick to remind me of our differences. Of course, it was in a 'joking with love' kind of way. I was an omega; small, rounded, and very quick to punch her gently in the abdomen.

"I forgot how much of a jerk you are." I quipped, huffing and wheeling my bag to her trunk.

"Oh, come on, babes, don't be like that," Bee laughed, opening the driver side door and waiting for me to walk back to my side. "Now get in, we've got a lot of catching up to do."

---

"How are your heats going?"

"Jesus, that's what you want to start with?" I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. Bee shrugged.

"We don't have to if you don't want to," She clarified, turning out onto the street "I'm just saying, I know they've gotten pretty bad as we've gotten older. Did you try out those tips I sent you?"

"Yea, I did," I said quietly, looking at the trees rushing by on the side of the highway "They worked for a while but..."

"But you need an alpha," Bee sighed, finishing the sentence for me.

"That's the plan for this summer," I agreed "Might finally settle down."

"You know, I'm always here if you need me." She said with a wink. I scoffed at her.

"I'm not that desperate," I laughed, shoving her lightly "Not yet, at least."

"Anyone take your interest back in Colorado?"

"Not really," I hummed, tilting my head in consideration. "There was this one guy. We dated for a few months but towards the end he became a total knot-head. He couldn't keep his hands off me. I thought it was cute at first, but after I started to miss a few classes...well, that shit got old pretty quickly." Bee made a disgusted noise.

"Ugh, men," She grunted, wrinkling her nose "I'm glad I never went through that phase. I'm perfectly happy with chicks, thank you very much. Much less of a pain in my ass."

"Oh, they're not so bad," I smirked "I think it's just alphas in general." She glared at me momentarily and I stuck my tongue out at her. We drove in a comfortable silence for a few moments, just enjoying each other's company. That was always something I loved about Bee. We never had to fill every second with chatter, we could just exist together in the same space and be just as content. She started to hum along to the song that buzzed softly from the radio and my eyes tracked a hawk. Soon enough, we reached our exit and Bee turned the car onto a smaller road, starting the countdown to my arrival home.

"Are you excited to see your dad?" Bee asked, killing the silence.

"Yea, I am," I smiled. We hadn't always had the best of relationships, but the distance that college gave had done wonders for us. A few texts and calls had worked perfectly for us. When he invited me to stay a few weeks during summer I gladly accepted. I wanted to see just how well our relationship had strengthened. Plus I knew he really needed someone.

"How's he doing?" There was genuine concern in Bee's voice. A few months ago, my mom had revealed that she had been having an affair with one of dad's work buddies. She left with him and took my brother down to Georgia.

"I think he's okay. But you know dad, he's not really an emotions guy. He was starting to get some closure but then the divorce papers came in the mail. That really hurt him," I told her, twisting a strand of my hair around my finger. "I just don't know how Lori could do that to him, you know? She won't even let Carl up to visit. The new baby's cute, though. Looks just like Shane." Bee hummed in acknowledgement.

"Well, tell him I said hi, alright?"

"Will do." A few more seconds of silence passed. Until we stopped at a light. Bee looked up and spotted a billboard that sported a very familiar, very handsome face.

"Holy shit!" Bee shrieked, slapping my arm.

"Ow, what the hell?" I hissed, grabbing my shoulder. She pointed frantically at the sign.

"That guy! Isn't that, shit- the hell's his name?" Pulling my eyes from my lap, I let them settle on the object of her excitement. All of the color drained from my face. It was an add for a law firm. There was an old geezer posing proudly on the left, and to his right, was the man who haunted my wet dreams for the majority of high school.

"Negan." I gulped.

"Yea, your dad's hot friend you never shut up about." Bee groaned, pressing on the gas and moving us away from the sign. Negan was a lawyer/make-shift-law-professor and baseball coach at the local community college. He had a sort-of contract with my dad's department. Many times I had come home after school to the two of them puzzling out a case on the kitchen table. Negan was an alpha of alphas, something that got my little omega heart (and other things) pumping until I couldn't breath. His humor and dominating persona made me blush a deep crimson color any time I saw him. Sometimes I would spend hours sitting on the stairs just listening to him talk to my dad. His voice was something else. I had gushed to Bee about him countless times during our times at high school. But I hadn't seen him since my graduation party.

"I wonder if you'll see him again," Bee teased, nudging me again to pull me out of my trance of memories. Then, she did a dramatic gasp. "What if he's your mate?" It was my turn to slap her in the shoulder.

"He's older than my dad!" I squealed, burying my now-blushing cheeks in my hands.

"You're an adult I don't think it matters."

"I think he's engaged."

"Just 'cause there's a goalie doesn't mean you can't scoooore." Bee pulled a face at me and I returned her grimace.

"Whatever, you're lucky we're almost at my house." I huffed, falling back into my seat with my arms crossed over my chest.

"Oh, yea, omega? What are you gonna do?" I rolled my eyes as she laughed off my grumpiness. We rolled to a stop in front of my driveway and a leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks so much, Bee, I really appreciate you," I grinned, popping open the door.

"No problem, babes," She winked, unlocking the trunk "But I swear to the gods, you better fucking call me and give me updates on everything, especially if you run into Mr. Hotcakes." I rolled my eyes once more and promised her I would before closing the door. I retrieved my bag and gave her a wave as she drove down the street. When she was out of view, I took a deep breath and turned around, walking up the driveway to the front door.

I knocked heavily on the dark oak door. While I waited for someone to answer, I decided to look around at the home I had left behind about a year ago. My childhood home had changed now and then over the years, but there were still some iconic pieces of memories in the front yard that could never be forgotten. My personal favorite was Eddie the garden gnome. He was a standard gnome: small and stout with a large white beard that led into a pointy red hat. His eyes were shut and his mouth was curved into a smile. However, he was missing a nose. I grinned as I recalled the unfortunate mishap that caused Eddie to become deformed. I was about twelve, and carl was five. He had gotten a kid's baseball from Negan for his birthday and had begged me to teach him how to play, since I was on the local softball team at the time. I relented and set it up in the front yard. Eddie was our outfielder. Eddie didn't have a mitt. Well, he did, but it was his face. Carl absolutely smashed the first pitch I tossed at him and hit poor Eddie right in the face, shattering his round, pink nose into pieces. Carl bursted into tears and I had to promise him that he did not in fact kill our precious protector of our house. Lori ran out frantically and comforted her son before giving me a thorough chewing out for damaging Eddie. We never used the set again. That she knew of, anyways. Negan always let us play in his yard, though. I smiled at the memory, but the clicking of the lock to the door pulled me from my train of thought. The door swung open and I was met with the smiling face of my father.

"Sweetie, I'm so glad you made it!" He laughed, pulling me in swiftly and squeezing me tight.

"It's good to see you too, dad." I croaked, letting out a small chuckle. I tapped on his shoulder as a signal for him to let go.

"How was the flight?" He asked as he stepped out to grab my bag. I told him it was good but that the screaming kids had given me a bit of a headache. He gave a small laugh and gestured for me to enter. I thanked him and he rolled my bag in behind me. We exchanged a few words but as soon as I walked through the kitchen into the doorway of the living room I was hit by a wall. Not literally, no, but rather a wall of overwhelming scent. It was a delicious swirl of campfire and whiskey, with a hint of cigarettes and leather. I paused for a moment, my eyes forced closed and my lungs taking a deep breath of the intoxicating air. Colors danced across my eyelids. My whole body was flooded with warmth and my toes tingled. I felt safe and calm, and there was something else; something deep within my stomach that I couldn't quite identify, something I never felt before. My eyes snapped open when I felt my father's hand rest firmly on my shoulder.

"I hope you don't mind, sweetie, but I invited company over while I was waiting for you to arrive," He smiled at me. I got a good look at him then. He looked the same, his hair was a bit longer, a bit greyer. But his eyes were different. They were darker, rounder, rawer. I gave a soft smile and told him it was fine. He guided me into the living room. It was then I realized where that deadly smell was coming from. Or, rather, who it was coming from. "Negan, you remember my girl." In that moment, I held my breath as I scanned Negan. He looked fucking amazing, just as he always had. Perfect dimples guarding a charming smile, all surrounded by a gorgeous salt and pepper beard. His hair was longer than it was when I had left, not slicked back, but it still framed his face perfectly. Negan's body was draped casually over the sectional couch, legs crossed at the ankle on the ottoman. His arms were on the top of the couch and his wrists were dangling. He knew he was hot. That bastard. I suddenly became aware of his eyes raking over my form and I shifted from one foot to the other.

"'course I do, Rick," Negan said, voice silky and deep. I couldn't help but let a small shudder run down my spine. All I wanted to do was kneel down in front of him and curl up at his feet. I forced my inner omega down, shaking the thought from my head. "How could I forget the little slugger?" I cringed inside at the nickname. Especially the use of the word 'little'. I begged that he didn't still see me as the kid down the street. Instead as a grown woman. A grown omega.

"Hi, Negan." I greeted with a small smile, swallowing to relieve my dry throat. Now that I was next to him, his scent was clogging all my senses. I gripped onto the couch and lowered myself onto the cushion, hoping to ground myself. It helped, just barely. My heart was pounding, my instincts telling me to submit to this man in front of me. Why, though? Why now? He had never smelled this good before. No alpha had. Was I getting close to my heat? I did have a stomach ache, but that could be from Negan alone.

"Hey, sweetheart. How's college goin'?" Negan asked, sipping on his drink. He kept eye contact with me the whole time. Rick handed me a glass of soda and I thanked him.

"It's good!" I said after taking a sip, thankful for the hydration in my coarse throat "Towards the end it got a little hectic, but I was able to stay on top of everything, thankfully."

"You're studying film, right?" He asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"That's right," I grinned, crossing my legs to relieve some of the pressure the movement caused to build up in my lower abdomen "You still teaching law?" This caused him to chuckle. Literally music to my ear.

"If that's what you want to fuckin' call it." Negan sighed, falling back to his original position, hands resting in his lap "I talk, the kids kinda listen. I just do it for the coaching job, really. You remember how much I love that damn sport, right?"

"Baseball?" I asked, raising a brow "You mean the only thing you talked about at all of the Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners you were invited to?"

"Touché." Negan grinned. Goddamn that smile. Butterflies erupted in my chest, beating hard against my ribcage, begging to throw myself at his chest and bury myself in him. Rick cleared his throat and smiled at me to get my attention.

"I want to know more about your college experience!" He beamed, rubbing a hand through his beard "Any special alphas you've got your eyes on?" I heard Negan choke slightly on his whiskey. A small bubble of pride rose in my chest. I laughed at his words.

"Dad, I don't think Negan wants to hear about my love life."

"Shit, doll, I don't mind," He grumbled "I don't get to hear any drama now-a-days"

"What do you mean?" I giggled, tilting my head "You argue for a living. Your job is to literally deal with drama."

"Yea, but that's complex drama," He growled, waving his hand dismissively "I wanna hear simple, schoolgirl 'he loves me, he loves me not' kind of bullshit."

"Well sorry to disappoint," I snorted, running a hand through my hair "but no, there's no one I have an eye on." Dad's smile turned into a frown.

"Shame." I heard Negan whisper. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to hear it. It was quiet, barely above his breath, and he said it while twirling his whiskey, following the words with a large gulp.

"You really should start looking, dear." Dad said with a sigh "You know it only gets harder as you get older."

"Dad please, I don't..." I cut him off "Listen, I appreciate you trying to understand this stuff, I really do, but I don't really want to talk about it with my father." He looked at me with an understanding smile.

"Sure," He nodded "But if you ever need anything, anything at all, you just let me know, alright." I nodded.

"Well, this sure has been fun, Ricky-boy," Negan grinned, getting to his feet and stretching his arms far above his head. "We do have that big court case in the mornin', though, and I need my shut-eye."

"Big case, eh?" I asked, rising from my seat as well. Dad nodded and excitement sparked in his eyes.

"You should come! It's an open court and I would love for you to see what I do. I know you always wanted to as a kid, but your mom made you wait until you were older. Well, now's the perfect time!" He rambled, grasping my shoulders.

"W-Well, I dunno, I don't want to be a distraction," I stumbled, taken aback by my father's display of enthusiasm. I turned to Negan, as if asking for permission. He just laughed.

"Oh-o, doll, I don't get distracted. Not in there, not anywhere. Don't you worry about a goddamn thing. You should come, Rick seems like he really wants you to."

"Okay, then," I grinned, nodding in commitment "I'll see you there in the morning then." I looked up to Negan and we locked eyes for a brief moment. But in that moment, something within me quivered. He brushed up against me and smirked down at me.

"See you tomorrow, sweetheart. It was nice to see you. You're lookin' great." It took all my willpower not to let out a whimper as he walked past me, taking his glorious scent with him.

My dad said that he should also get some rest, but that I could stay up as long as I wanted to. I was pretty wiped from my flight so I opted to follow him up the narrow staircase, tugging my bag behind me. I hugged him goodnight and stepped into my room. It hadn't been touched since I left last summer. The forest green bedspread was still perfectly tucked into the mattress and two plump pillows were perched at the head of the bed. My muscles ached for the soft release of sleep. I put my suitcase down by my dresser, taking a moment to smile at some old photos of me and Bee as kids. I showered and brushed my teeth before getting into the comfortable bed. I looked up at the ceiling and giggled softly at the glow-in-the-dark stars shining overhead. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I wasn't thinking of anything in particular, but for some reason, all of my dreams were plagued by the sweet smell, sound, sight, feeling, and taste of Negan.

#negan x y/n #negan x reader #negan smith #negan x you #alpha!negan #omega!reader #a/b/o kink #twd a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics

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andypantsx3 · 3 years

Note

Hii can I request a deleted scene for "if I could keep cool" that tells chapter 2 from Shouto's POV? I would absolutely love to c what was going through Shouto's head when he figured out that Y/N was just a cleaning lady and what was the moment that made him want to ask her out when he saw her at his house afterwards! Thank u!!

I accidentally got carried away, so this bad boy is 1.9k!! My apologies lol. I hope you like it!!

It wasn’t every day that someone told Shouto Todoroki to go fuck himself.

Particularly not quirkless civilians, and never those he’d rescued.

There was usually a lot more breathless gratitude, some bowing and scraping, and—mystifyingly—a lot of phone numbers, handkerchiefs, and very unsubtle attempts to get a hand or two around his biceps. Shouto didn’t really know what his biceps had to do with it, but he’d seen the same thing happen to Midoriya and Kirishima as well—and Bakugou once, before he’d nearly gnawed the woman’s hands off—so he assumed it was just another social cue he’d never understand.

As little as he cared for social cues, however, he was certain that there was usually a lot more thank you and a little less go fuck yourself involved in the whole rescuing process.

But then, he’d also never told off a civilian for having been kidnapped before.

A civilian who, he’d come to realize almost immediately afterward, hadn’t deserved it.

When he’d asked his mother her advice over the phone, she’d told him the best thing to do was to be honest and try to start fresh. “White flowers mean forgiveness—tulips new beginnings,” she’d advised him.

So Shouto had ducked into the nearest florist and brought back an apology in hopes that you would accept it.

He might have known, however, that you’d manage to turn even a simple apology completely on its head.

The clatter of cleaning supplies in his kitchen on Thursday afternoon told Shouto you’d let yourself in for your usual shift. He followed the sound, only for it to halt at his approach, the kitchen seemingly empty as he drew nearer.

He stopped short, fighting down a surprised swell of amusement when he realized you’d ducked down, hiding yourself behind his counters as if anyone, especially a pro hero, might be fooled by that.

“I know you’re there,” he said, keeping his tone even.

He heard a muttered swear word, and then you were rising slowly to your feet, wearing a sheepish expression, and clutching a bottle of windex like a weapon.

You looked just as you had the day of your rescue, though obviously a little less harrowed by a kidnapping. You were dressed casually in jeans and a simple shirt, no indicator that you were an employee of a cleaning service—Shouto felt at least a little justified in his mistake from last week.

You were clearly a college student, the backpack dumped at his kitchen island was evidence of that much, overflowing with textbooks and notes as it was, and you looked just slightly disheveled, like you might have come straight from class.

It was part of some nebulous, unassuming appeal to you, now that he had occasion to notice. He’d remembered your features twisted up in disdain, but they were open in surprise now, your eyes wide, fixed on him. His own eyes were drawn to the scrunch of your nose, a little curl of embarrassment that he suddenly found himself unable to tear his gaze away from.

“I, uh, thought you weren’t supposed to be here,” you admitted to him with a visible cringe.

Shouto almost laughed. He didn’t know much about you, but it was clear to him now that you weren’t anything like a crazy fan. You looked like you’d rather be anywhere but here at the moment. In fact, you looked rather like you might bolt any second.

A strange feeling shifted in his chest, and Shouto cut right to the chase.

“I owe you an apology,” he said simply.

You startled so violently that you dropped the windex. “W-what?”

Shouto sighed, admitting, “My manager schedules the cleaning days. I didn’t realize that you were—that is to say, I thought you were a fan who had broken in and managed to get kidnapped while you were at it.”

You gaped, another confused little expression that Shouto found himself fixating on with an intensity that surprised him. The weird feeling in his chest shifted, burning a little hotter.

He wondered absently what other expressions he could get you to make.

“Oh, I, um...nope. Not a fan,” you said, and the feeling grew more insistent.

He paused over the phrasing—not a fan.

It had never bothered him before, when someone was a bigger fan of a classmate than they were of him, or weren’t really a hero fan at all. Shouto honestly did not quite understand why hero work was so tied up in fandom in the first place, and only attended fan events because his manager’s temper was not a thing to be trifled with.

He wanted to be a hero who put people at ease, but ease was the last thing he felt with people clamoring all over him. Fighting villains was infinitely more preferable.

So why did your admission that you weren’t a fan of his niggle at his brain, like a particularly insistent parasite?

Who were you a fan of, if not him?

“...Well, glad that’s cleared up now. I’ll just, uh, go then,” you said, grabbing an armful of the cleaning supplies and shoving it back under the sink hastily.

Shouto had moved before he knew what he was doing, getting himself in between you and the door out to the hallway.

“Wait,” he said, feeling uncomfortable. “I want to make up for what I said to you. You...didn’t deserve that, especially not right after you’d been kidnapped by a villain.”

He watched you eye the space between his hip and the counter, like you were considering making a break for it. As he watched your face, he felt some strange hope that you might try it, a certainty he would catch you.

...Why did he want to catch you?

You waved a hand. “It’s fine. You saved me, we can call it even.”

Shouto’s mouth turned down minutely. He’d behaved badly, but surely you’d credit him better manners than that. “It’s my fault you were taken in the first place. I’d like to apologize properly.”

Your face did something weird, then, another distracting little curl of the nose. “You don’t actually have to go fuck yourself,” you blurted.

Shouto stared at you, caught off guard.

“Uh, I mean. You saved my life,” you babbled suddenly. “And yeah what you said to me was super rude, but what I said to you was also super rude. So, um, I’m sorry too. And I really would just like to call it even and forget about it because it’s super embarrassing for both of us and I could literally die thinking about it.”

You stopped suddenly, looking self-conscious like you’d realized you’d been rambling. Shouto almost wished you hadn’t.

“I hadn’t really planned on it,” he said quickly.

“Hadn’t planned on what?”

“Fucking myself,” he clarified. You choked on a shocked laugh, and he let a small smile tug at his mouth—there.

Finally.

Finally you looked a little more comfortable with him.

Shouto tried hard not to look too pleased with himself.

“Oh, well that’s good, then," you said. Then you puffed up a little, adding, "That’s probably a job for your actual secret lover.”

Good lord. “Not you, too.”

You threw him a smile, and Shouto’s heartbeat tripped over itself. “But I have evidence. I saw that homemade soup in your fridge once with the love note attached.”

It took him a moment to focus on what you were saying, but Shouto recalled the soup in question. It had been quite good, even if Bakugou had spent almost a half an hour ranting about what a weak ass little bitch he was for catching a cold. It had almost been worth it, the soup was that delicious. “Ah yes. That secret lover.”

“Cute pet name, too,” you said.

Shouto let out a low laugh, recalling the note. “You fucking fuck, was it?”

You laughed too, tension easing from your shoulders. Shouto’s eyes hungrily traced even that small movement.

A dawning sense of what was happening finally settled over him as he pronounced, “As it happens, however, I did already plan more of an apology.”

You looked up at him, your brow furrowing. “You planned...more of an apology?”

He gestured to a tall vase of white tulips on the kitchen counter. Your eyes went a little rounder as you observed them. You looked like you weren’t sure if they were for you, as if there were another previously kidnapped cleaning girl lurking about, who might be in need of an apology.

What a fascinating thing you were.

“I’ve been told that they mean forgiveness and new beginnings. I had hoped that we might...start over,” Shouto explained. He couldn’t help but feel self-conscious.

“I didn’t bring you any flowers,” you blurted.

He covered up a surprised laugh with a cough, the feeling in his stomach burning hotter. “I hadn’t expected them.”

He watched you turn back thoughtfully to the bouquet, certain now.

Over the phone, his mother had also said white flowers carried connotations of honor and purity. Two notions, Shouto realized with a growing sense of curiosity, that may be entirely inapplicable to his feelings about you.

He didn’t know much about you, but he knew for certain that he’d like to know more. And as he watched you reach out to pluck at a petal, wearing a shy little smile, he thought that yes, honor and purity had very little to do with his intentions at the moment.

You thanked him for the flowers, and Shouto made it clear to you that he hadn’t meant what he’d said about you being unwelcome here. He wanted—no, desired your return now.

“That’s good to hear, thank you,” you said. Then your smile went a little mischievous. “As you can see, though, it didn’t really deter me.”

Shouto let himself smirk. “If I hadn’t seen the cleaning supplies already on the counter, I would be concerned that you’d come back for revenge.”

“There’s still time,” you joked. “Maybe I was going to play the long game and fill all the bottles with Sprite.”

The mulish statement surprised him into another laugh. “I hope the flowers are enough of a deterrent.”

You looked over the flowers again, then smiled up at him. His eyes caught on your mouth.

“The bribe has been accepted. Your countertops are safe from me.” You paused, then added, “For now.”

The hot feeling was everywhere now, simmering just underneath Shouto’s skin. He left himself lean towards you, relishing in the way your breath caught in a tiny hitch. “Be warned that I will do whatever it takes to ensure the safety of my countertops.”

You complained that he hardly used them, but complied nevertheless. Then you bullied him out of the kitchen, that tiny little scrunch back on your nose.

Shouto let you have your way, making his way over to the couch and settling on it with a book he had absolutely no intention of reading. Instead, as he watched you clean, he considered things.

He had always been straightforward about his goals. Once he’d chosen heroism as his dream, he’d let nothing stand in his way, working diligently all through UA, shooting nonstop through the ranks before breaking into the top five this year, one of the youngest to have ever done it.

He was deliberate about what he wanted. He worked hard for what he wanted.

And as he wandered back towards the kitchen, questions ready in his mouth, he knew what else he wanted.

He wanted to know more about you.

He wanted to spend more time with you.

He wanted…

Well, he rather thought he wanted you.

I was going to edit this but every time I went to touch it, I made it worse. I hope you liked it anyway!

Garbage Fest masterlist & schedule.

#garbage fest 2021 #garbage fest questions

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 3 years

Text

Go Go Karasuno: An Old Rival (Pt 1)

THIS FIC IS 18+

Warnings: swearing, light teasing

Word Counts: 7,000+

Flasback

"Keishin you asshole" you shout for the end of the court. God how you despised Ukai Keishin! The man was the bane of your existence at Karasuno High. He was always one upping you. Always one step ahead. He always got the praise while you remained in his shadow.

"Calm down Y/N! I'm just teasing you. I promise I'll be quiet during your serve this time" Keishin says as he smirks at you through the net.

"You say that every time asshole, yet we continue to have this discussion" you say with a huff.

You are annoyed and honestly just fed with with him. You didn't even want this practice match but of course, a lot of the girls had crushes on the boys team so you felt like you had to join. Even thought you couldn't stand Keishin’s big ego clogging up your breathing room.

"Just serve Y/N. Ignore him" one of your teammates shout.

You take a deep breath, tossing the ball up to serve.

Serving required the utmost concentration for you. You didn't know how people could effortlessly serve with background noise and people cheering. You hated that. You're teammates knew it and so did your coaches. Most of the time you didn't have to worry about noise, but when you were playing the boys team, you knew you always had to worry about something.

"Just do it already" you hear a voice shout as your hand smacks the ball in front of you causing it to barrel towards the net.

"Aye net ball" Keishin yelled from the other side of the court as he snickered at you.

"I'm seriously gonna kick your-" you start to say as your teammates gather ground to stop you from commit a felony.

"Alright that's enough" Coach yells from the sidelines "lets wrap it up."

You sigh as the boys high five each other, celebrating their victory. You line up with your team as you prepare to thank the boys team and shake hands.

You approach the net, extending your hand to Keishin while looking down.

"Better luck next time Y/N. But hey I can see the improvement. Just try getting it over the net next time" he smiles shaking you hand as you continue to stare at the floor.

Anger. You are so mad that he beat you again.

You sulk to the sidelines as you begin to dry off with a towel and drink your water.

"Will I ever be as good as him?"

Flashback ends

8 years.

8 whole years have passed since you last seen Keishin or any of the Karasuno Alumni. Now you find yourself standing at the gates wondering how fate brought you here.

It wasn't like your memories of High School were awful. You got good grades, played volleyball. You were even the captain of the girls team your 3rd year. For all intensive purposes, you loved High school.

You just hated Ukai Keishin with a passion. Sure you realized your teenage hatred of the man was petty. Of course it was. It was almost 10 years ago but yet you couldn't forget the man. There was just something that irked you to no end about him and you were glad your past 8 years had been Keishin-free.

After high school, you traveled to Toyko for school. After graduating you worked in Tokyo in a corporate office. You loved the job a lot. The city life was right up your alley. The people, the shopping, the nightlife. Everything. Not that you necessarily partook in those activities but you enjoyed the options. You had friends, your whole life was in Tokyo.

It's not like you wanted to be back in Miyagi. It wasn't by choice you were here.

You're parents had left after you graduated high school, following you to the cities. Unfortunately, when your grandfather got sick, you were the only one who could help.

Your parents both had prior commitments with work and you didn't have family in the area. You're job allowed you to work remotely. It was both a blessing and a curse. You were only going to be in town for a few weeks. Just to get your grandfather and grandmother settled in a senior living center.

Your parents had offered them to move in with them in Toyko but your grandfather would have none of it. He was as stubborn as they come. He hated the idea of "the big city". Your grandmother didn't really mind anyway but she wasn't going to leave your grandfather as long as he was living so you just gave up.

So how does that bring you back to Karasuno you ask?

Well a few of your fellow alumni had found out you were back in town. I'm talking Takinoue Yūsuke and Shimada Makoto, both former classmates as well as former volleyball players. You knew they were friends with Keishin but you never minded them. They were always nice to you and treated you kindly. Sure they joked around with you but they never pressed you like Keishin did. So imagine your surprise when you showed up to Shimada Mart with your grandma in toe only to find Makoto stocking shelves.

To say you were shocked wouldn't be entirely accurate, I mean his name is on the store. You just figured he had moved on. When he invited you for drinks with Yusuke, you accepted.

Not once did the conversation turn to Keishin which you appreciated. The men knew of your rivalry well. It almost seemed like neither of you had moved on from one another.

They had talked about the boys team and how amazing they were. You still enjoyed volleyball talk and even played on a small team in Toyko on the occasional weekends. They told you about their neighborhood association and how they were playing a match with the boys of Karasuno. They mentioned needing a setter to which you immediately perked up. You didn't ask questions, not even thinking about why they needed a setter.

You figured since the conversation avoided Keishin that he was no longer in the area. You knew of his families store but also knew that he probably didn't live around here. You offered your services as a setter for a practice game. The men looked at one another, nodding in agreement. You figured what could be the harm. You got to play volleyball and kick some kids asses.

It would be a lot of fun.

Keishin finished up his shift at his family store leaving it to his mother to tend while he attended practice. He hadn't thought much high-school since he graduated honestly. He was happy in his life.

He had good friends, a solid family support system and of course, he was the head coach of the Karasuno boys volleyball team. He walked to practice as he's thoughts drifted. They often did. He'd light a cigarette, think about things and by the time he finished, he was at the gates to Karasuno. He had scheduled a practice match tonight. He knew the neighborhood association lacked members but the Karasuno boys were always willing to fill in.

For some ungodly reason, his thoughts drifted to you. He hadn't thought about you in years.

That was a lie. A complete lie.

He actually thought about you often and how he was a complete and utter jerk in high school. He would never admit he had a crush on you back then but he did enjoy your little rivalry the two of you had. He always thought you were a great setter but he always strived to be better. It was just how he was. He knew his little crush would never amount to anything. You were way smarter and way more attractive. You had life goals and he strived to stay on the volleyball team. He hadn't dreamt of leaving Miyagi. He knew he wasn't college bound. He knew he'd always be here but you, you always dreamed of more and he admired that.

He thought you were probably some rich lady by now with a husband and a family. He laughed because he imagined your husband staying home while you worked because that's just how you were. You were strong and independent. You never settled.

Keishin entered the gym where the Karasuno boys were practicing.

"The neighborhood association will be here in 10 minutes" he yelled.

"Yes coach" the boys yelled in return as they continued to warm up for their practice game.

"Suga I'm going to need you to set for the association again tonight" he said. Sugawara Koushi nodded as he went back to warming up with the spikers. Takada Ittetsu, Karasuno’s faculty advisor and other coach, soon came bounding into the gym as he often did. He was always racing around it seemed like.

He had meetings, papers to grade and other things teachers worried about. Keishin laughed at how different him and Takeda were yet they made a great coaching team.

"Alright guys the show is here" a voice shouted from the doors as they were thrown open.

Keishin sighed, placing his head in his hand.

"Takinoue you talk to much" Shimada rolled his eyes as he smacked Takinoue on the shoulder walking over to Keishin.

"I've got Suga warming up for you guys" Keishin said to Makoto.

"Ahh no need tonight man, we've got a setter" Shimada said as he rested his hand on Keishin’s shoulder.

"Huh?" Keishin questions and the doors flew open. His eyes and the eyes of the rest of the teams eyes flew to the door.

Keishin froze

"Damn I see they still haven't fixed these God forsaken doors. It's been like 10 years damn" you said as you switched from your street shoes.

Everyone was staring at you.

"Hello everyone" you smile as you wave, still not noticing the long blonde hair coach on the sidelines staring holes in your head.

The boys bowed to you as you smiled.

You turned your body to walk to Shimada as you begin to speak "you should have told me-" you stop making direct eye contract with Keishin, your mouth dropping open.

"Keishin?" You say shockingly

"Y/N?" Keishin said equally as shocked.

"Oh whoops" Takinoue looks at you laughing awkwardly "I guess we forgot to mention the little detail that Keishin is the Karasuno teams coach ha ha"

Shimada's eyes went wide as he waited for you to speak.

"Yes you forgot to mention that LITTLE detail" you speak sharply as you whip your head to both Shimada and Takinoue.

Keishin is still frozen.

You're here? Why? How? And your setting for the Neighborhood association? Oh dear God!

"Long time no see Keishin" you speak directly as you look at him.

He thought you were beautiful then but now you looked spectacular! His brain and heart were thinking and beating at 1000 miles per hour yet no words were formed from his mouth.

Gosh this was awkward.

Shimada and Tokinoue watched in wonder.

Everyone did.

The Karasuno team could sense the tension between you two.

"What's with coach I've never seen him this quiet" Tanaka Ryunosuke whispers to Nishinoya Yu.

"No clue but it's making me nervous" Noya said in response.

You wanted for Keishin to speak only to be met with silence

"Well ok then" you clap your hands together "I'm here to set so let's get this show on the road."

You walk towards the practice jerseys as you slip one on. Everyone seems stunned but nobody says anything. You look back at everyone as they awkwardly go back to their tasks.

Takinoue walks up to you as you start stretching. You glare at him.

"This is all your fault" you say sharply as he puts on a practice jersey.

"Don’t expect any sets today" you growl as you walk to the sidelines talking with your new team for the evening.

The boys welcome you with open arms. Ennoshita Chikara, one of Karasuno's wing spikers greats you with a bow.

"Umm miss would you mind if we practice a few sets before the game starts?" He asks pleasantly.

"Oh please call me Y/N! And of course! I'm a new setter to you so I totally understand wanting to get comfortable" you smile as you walk towards the net.

Keishin is still staring. You're sure his eyes dried out by now from not blinking.

Ennoshita describes his ideal setup to you as you are mental notes. You remember a teammate who had a similar style so you try to adjust what you can.

Ennoshita throws a ball to you as you set perfectly for a kill.

"Nice kill" you say with a smile. Ennoshita blushes.

"That was a great set Y/N! I don’t think I've hit a ball that confidently in a long time" he says with a smile as he rubs the back of his head.

"Well thank you but I'm a bit rusty. The ball drifted a bit too much towards the net for my liking. I'll adjust" you say with a smile as the next teammate tosses to you.

“She hasn't changed a bit” Keishin thinks to himself.

He always thought you were too hard on yourself in high school. He admired you but you were always trying to do more. He knew you didn't really like him but he didn't actually know the reason. He just thought you found him to be annoying.

Keishin snaps out of his thoughts as he blows the whistle. Everyone lines up, thanking each other for the game as they proceed to their spots.

The game goes on for a while. You see Kageyama Tobio and Hinata Shoyo’s quick and your eyes sparkle. You knew that move had to be a shocker to almost anyone playing against them. You learned to never underestimate a player. You knew the smallest players were out the most dangerous. But you had to admit that even the quickness and trust the duo displayed was phenomenal.

During a break, Kageyama asked if you'd observe his technique. You felt honored as you knew the boy was a prodigy. He was a quick thinker on the court and adapted well. You could also tell he was a lot like you were. He was hard on himself and always strived to do better. You observed the infamous "falling toss" that just stopped mid air. It was amazing to see. You'd never even dream of being able to pull something off like that.

Honestly it seemed like a “Keishin” move to you. You laughed as you thought about all the times you rolled your eyes at his ridiculous sets. He was always trying to outrun the blockers. Always trying to open the paths for his spikers.

"That tosses was phenomenal boys" you smile as you applaud their efforts. They both bow as they disperse and continue their training.

Your eyes met Keishins again.

Honestly we're you really going to ignore him this whole time?

“It's been almost 10 years Y/N he's probably matured” you think to yourself as you gather the courage to approach the coach. Then again this was Ukai Keishin we were talking about. The asshole who constantly made it a mission to get under your nerves in high school.

When the second practice match started, you were you to serve. Keishin smiled to himself thinking about the cute look you got on your face as you prepared to serve. It made his hard warm. You didn't fail to notice his smile but you're thoughts automatically drifted back to high school. You hated that smile so much.

You prepared to serve as suddenly you heard someone clear their throat. You missed the serve completely, hitting a net ball. Keishin snickered to himself.

“Man you really hadn't changed all that much” he thought as he was thinking about how much you hated missing serves.

Your neck snaps to him as you glare "I know you did that on purpose" you spit at him.

Keishin just smiles "Y/N you really think I'm out here to mess your serves up?"

You definitely hadn't changed.

You huffed as you glared at Keishin as he smirked.

Shimada and Takinoue looked at each other. Part of them was hoping they would see you chuck a ball at Keishin while a part of them wondered how you two had managed to ignore your feelings for each other for so long.

The game ended as the boys cleaned the gym and thanked you for the game.

Keishin watched as you took off the practice jersey. Your shirt lifting, exposing your tummy bit to reveal your smooth skin. It was now or never .

"Umm hey Y/N, thanks for helping out" he says as he approaches you

You continue to wipe the sweat from your forehead as you take a drink of water. "No problem. It's a great team you have here" you say while avoiding eye contact.

Keishin wished you'd just look at him. You really didn't still hate him did you?

"Well I’m off" you say as you wave and smile to the team and the association. You quickly move to the gym doors, replacing your shoes and walking away.

"You sure blew that one" Shimada snickers behind Keishin.

"She really had no clue I was the coach?" Keishin looks at Shimada.

"Not one clue" he says in return "besides this provided so much entertainment." He throws his head back laughing as he walking towards the gym doors.

“Wyou blew this one Keishin” he thinks to himself as he sighs taking a seat in a folding chair.

He really did blow this one.

taglist: @axoxtxhxh

#justiceforthehaikyuucoachs #haikyuu #haikyuucoaches #haikyuu!!#karasuno #ukai #ukai keishin #keishin ukai smut #keishin x y/n #team mom series #teammom #team mom

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dourpeep · 3 years

Note

OKAY time for a college au!!

You 3 know each other from before college

You and kazuha were seating next to each other during your first year of high school you became close enough to greet each other whenever you guys pass by each other

And you and Xiao were best friends from kindergarten to 2 grade but unfortunately you had to move suddenly you two tried to keep contact but the two of you made new friends and kinda lost contact with each other

So when you go to college you meet kazuha at the front desk when you're trying to get your schedule and yall are like "omg I'm so happy to see someone that I know here!" and when you guys check your schedules it turns out that the two of you have the same class during the first period

And you're like "we've got 30 minutes wanna go grab a cup of coffee and get lost together?" and kazu knows that you playfully flirt with your friends so he jokingly says "are you asking me out for a date? Because if you are then I accept!" and you guys talk on the way to class and the two of you barely make it on time

Class ends and you're sad to say goodbye to the only person you know on campus but then all of a sudden he hits you with a "by the way can I have your number?" so you two exchange numbers

Later you're going to your last class and it turns out that this class doesn't have many people you go sit in the back and someone comes up to you and is like "can I sit next to you? " you say yes obviously

But the thing is... there is something very familiar about this guy and you just can't put your finger on it so you kind of stare at him without realizing it

Of course he noticed how hard you've been staring at him and turns around and is like "what? Is there something on my face?" that's when it finally clicks

And you're just like "XIAO??! IS THAT REALLY YOU?!!" but the teacher comes in so you two can't really talk

But the moment class ends you tell him who you are and take a few minutes to catch up

Though I say catch up it was mostly you teasing him saying shit like "I can't believe the shy kid who used to tear up whenever his turn on the swing was taken would grow up to be this handsome!" (he's starting to think that maybe he should have sat somewhere else)

So you're like "hey how we go actually catch up I've got some coupons for this café I went to this morning with a friend"

He doesn't have a reason to say no so he just accepts the invitation

When you guys get there who do you meet? KAZUHA! This man actually works there!

When you see him you're like "kazuha why didn't you tell me that you work here?" but he pretends not to know you and is like "oh? Well who might this fine customer be?" you can tell he's joking by the way he's trying not to laugh so you decide to play along

Poor Xiao is starting to regret coming with you (but don't worry he got 2 plates of almond tofu as an apology)

-no primogems (I'll make another part later where you 3 become roommates)

YES I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS-

dhfaeiahe I realize now that I should've just posted this as is since I wasn't planning on adding to this but might as well add in some thoughts I've had about this lovely trio eh??? tbh I didn't add much I just slipped in a few little things hehe

Can you guess the roomates?? Also the bio professor is Albedo ehe

Anyway!!

Considering it's the first semester of college, you haven't yet decided on your major. Luckily, you have quite a few general education classes to take, so you register all in one night.

You'll have the time to figure it all out as time goes by, no?

The rest of summer is spent juggling moving into the campus' dorms, working, and keeping up with some friends from high school. While you've kept contact with a few friends, you definitely kicked yourself in the ass for forgetting to ask Kazuha for his number...how could you forget one of your best friends?

But, you suppose that he's far off in a whole other city with his wish to experience more. You can't help but wonder what he's up to.

Then, the first day of classes starts.

How did you not figure out where everything is first? Instead of moping, you trudge to the administrative building early to ask for directions and, even better, a map of the large campus.

Instead, you find a familiar head of cream-colored hair.

Immediately, you gasp and he turns around in confusion, only for a soft smile to spread over his features. It's only been a summer but it's a relief to see that you know another person. Comparing schedules, he points out that you both have Communications 1301 together.

For once, you're glad you have to take these mandatory courses...

But with an abundance of time (as Kazuha just so happens to know where the class is), he accepts your jokingly firtatious proposal to head to the cafe just across campus to grab a morning drink.

It's hardly been long since you've last spoken to him, but there's still so much to talk about! It turns out he opted to rent out a small studio apartment just a few blocks away from campus! Naturally, he invites you over sometime.

He's also admitted that he decided to major in English--something you're not surprised to hear. After all, Kazuha's a natural at the subject, exceeding the assignments and always so eloquent.

If you recall correctly, he used to tote around a little notebook full of little musings and poetry during high school. You wonder if he still does that.

You talk about how you've just moved into the dorms a week ago, how you're lucky to be rooming with two musically inclined (if not a bit rowdy) people. You're sure that he'd take a liking to them once everything is calmed down a bit. Kazuha just raises a brow in half-doubt.

Before you know it, it's been an hours and, to your horror, your first class starts in five minutes. Not to mention that it was back closer to the admin building and you were on the opposite side of campus.

But it's still fun, Kazuha laughing as you jolt up and tug him to stand, the two of you running to get to class on time. With heaving breaths and flushed faces, you make it just a few minutes late. Luckily, your professor didn't mind because it was the first day...

Following class, you have to make your way to Bio 1301, Kazuha having a major-specific English course to get to. Before you can speak, though, he offers his phone to you. It's newer than his old flip phone you'd tease him about all the time, the screen clean save for a few stray fingerprints.

After you put in your number, he beams and quickly sends you a call so you can have his too.

"Call me after you're done with classes, alright?"

You promise to and the two of you set off.

Biology proves to be uneventful, a full hour and a half of the (rather attractive) professor going over what to expect as well as passing out lab waiver forms. A necessary precaution, he said with a reserved sigh. You wonder what happened.

When the hour ends, you have some time before World History, followed by a Trigonometry course.

By the time you find your trig class, most of the seats are already taken, making that feeling of dread fill the pit of your stomach. Nothing is worse than being forced to take whatever seat is left. But, noticing a seat by the windows, it's not so bad.

You're in the back, though, settling your bag beneath your chair and picking out a pen and schedule book.

At some point, someone walks in and asks if the seat in front of you is taken. You don't bother to look up long as you fish out a notebook, letting him know it's free.

As class goes on, you realize that the guy in front of you most likely hasn't been paying attention. Considering that the professor has been rehashing stuff from Algebra...you're not surprised. But something about his dark hair catches your eye. Not to mention his striking gold eyes...hm.

It's not until you catch his profile as he stares out the window that it clicks.

"Xiao."

His eyes dart to look at you, a confused look washing over his face. You repeat his name.

"Yes?"

Part of him is just about ready to leave as recognition floods your expression, smile wide. How could you possibly---

"I can't believe the shy kid who used to tear up whenever his turn on the swing was taken would grow up to be this handsome!"

The tips of his ears turn red fast, something that you remember very well about him, and his gaze quickly flicks over to the professor still dragging on. When gold settles back on you, they're practically begging for you to lower your voice.

"It's been forever--I can't believe that you-"

"If you're going to talk, do it outside of class."

Ah. Oopsie.

Time seems to drag on while you buzz in your seat, excited to see your childhood friend after loosing contact. You've missed him over the years, always wondering what happened to him, how he's been. And finally, when class ends, he gets up and waits for you.

Naturally, you want to catch up, so you invite him to go to the cafe with you for a late lunch.

"You still like almond tofu right? It's all you used to eat when we were little." Laughing, you nudge his shoulder and the color returns to his cheeks as he mumbles a yes.

When you step into the cafe, a familiar voice greets you.

"If I knew a cute customer would be coming, I would've gone on break."

Kazuha leans on the counter, mirth in his eyes and you gasp. It makes sense now, why he's so well acquainted with the campus and why he'd already known what to order when you arrived for drinks-

"What can I get for you today?"

"Your number."

Xiao's face pales at the blatant flirting, wondering if he should've just declined the invitation to the cafe until the two of you burst into laughter. Though, it's hardly better.

"Sorry, sorry- This is Kazuha, one of my friends from high school. Kazuha, this is my childhood best friend Xiao."

With a day so filled with nice coincidences, you doubt that life can get any better than this.

Oh, how wrong you'd be.

#anon asks #no primogems anon #kazuha x xiao x reader #xiao and his two lovely dumb s/o's #college au #polycule #polyamory #meet cute #xiao #kazuha #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact fics #genshin impact

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Murder, He Wrote

Part 1

Co-written with @southerngracela

Summary: You’re sent by your asshole boss to do a review of a Celebrity Host Haunted Mansion, hosted by none-other than the arrogant, wild-eye browed actor Lucas Lee, but you’re worried you’ve missed the boat…that is, until at the last minute, an email arrives to say they can let you in on the last admission that night, which just happens to be Halloween… When you arrive, you’re actually kind of excited and intrigued…but it isn’t long until that excitement and intrigue give way to fear when you find yourself in a helpless situation.

Warnings: A creepy house, bad language words. MATURE (NSFW 18+) NON-CON situation, kidnap, violence. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER… READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: So this is a collaboration between myself and the wonderful @southerngracela for @jtargaryen18 ‘s Haunted House 2020 challenge…and will be a mini-series, with an as of yet undefined number of chapters.

Once again READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK Series… don’t @ us if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18…get off my blog.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and by writing it does NOT mean I agree with or condone the acts contained within. This fiction is classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Murder, He Wrote Masterlist // Main Masterlist.

"Y/L/N," your dick editor poked his head into your office rather gruffly. "I'm gonna need that celebrity haunted mansion review on my desk by tomorrow morning. I want to run it ASAP.”

"I can't even get in, not even with a press pass, I've been trying for two weeks, Mick!” you looked at him, your mouth slightly open. You’d told him this countless times at morning briefings. You hadn't even heard back from the organizers about sneaking around the press pass issue and offering an exclusive on the joint, a small fact you kept Mick in the dark about.

"Make it happen." He said simply, before he turned and left.

You glared at his retreating form. What the fuck did he not understand about the situation? Mind you, what did he understand about anything? There was a reason everyone working for him called him Mick The Prick.

There was also a reason he was being extra prickish to you. Earlier in the spring time of the year you’d run an article on Ransom Drysdale- the stuck up, trust fund asshole who had literally gotten away with murder. He’d confessed to murdering his grandfather’s house keeper, attempting to murder his grandfather and then, in a violent showdown with 2 police officers and a private detective present, he’d attempted to murder his grandfather’s nurse, Marta. And he would have succeeded, except the knife he’d used had been a stage prop. It was like some fucked up Murder, She Wrote plot, and when you’d interviewed the real life Jessica Fletcher (in this case the rather charming PI named Benoit Blanc who’d been a character to say the least) it got even more confusing. Ransom had hired Blanc in some elaborate scheme to frame Marta for Harlan’s death to do her out of the inheritance via the Slayer Rule. That had back fired spectacularly when she had unwittingly switched back the vials of medication Drysdale had tampered with, meaning Harlan had truly committed suicide.

The article was supposed to be done showing his side of the story, a way for him to set the record straight, but the more you’d dug and spoken to people surrounding the case, the more you were absolutely convinced of his guilt, not least because he’d been acquitted on the murder and attempted murder charges on technical grounds due to his confession being, allegedly, obtained under duress and without a brief being present. The only thing they’d managed to pin on him was the arson which had burnt the Chief Medical Examiner’s office to the ground, and when his brief had successfully argued mitigating circumstances- he wasn’t of sound mind given the shock surrounding him being cut from his grandfather’s will- he’d basically ended up being released on license.

It was a joke, and that was basically what your article had said. You’d written a scathing attack on how money could basically render you untouchable by the law, highlighting the failures of the Criminal Justice System. At the time, Mick the Prick had been delighted with it, publishing it under your suggested head line “Murder, He Wrote”- ha, go figure, and copies had flown off the shelves, the article online going viral.

And then money had talked once more, and the Drysdale’s had threatened to sue for defamation. That in itself was a joke, as you knew full well his mother, Linda, was only doing it to salvage her own reputation, the same reason she’d worked so hard to find a lawyer to get him off the charges despite the fact she knew full well he was guilty as sin. Mick The Prick had attempted to throw you under the bus spectacularly when the board had come looking for blood, but as editor the buck stopped with him, and he was given a formal warning whilst you were forced to publish a retraction and offer a written apology much to your utter chagrin.

Which was why he was now making your life as hard as possible, and your Investigative Journalism skills, that you’d honed over the last decade; from high school paper, college tribune and now your current employer, over the last 10 years or so since graduation were now being focussed on covering stories about housewives who found Jesus’ face in a slice of toast, or in this case a fucking Celebrity Host Halloween Haunted House review. Whereas you had dominated the first 2 pages once upon a time, you were now lucky if you made it further up than page 11.

With a groan you banged your head on your desk. Why had you not listened to your dad and become a damned teacher instead of a journalist. Dealing with snotty nosed brats would be easier than this.

By the end of your day, you were burning what felt like the midnight oil however it wasn't very late at all. Dark had settled in but it wasn't late by time. Just before you were to log off and leave for the night, a TV dinner and pint of mint chip waiting for you in your freezer (and probably a job search too seeing as you would no doubt be fired tomorrow morning for failing on your deadline) your email pinged on your desktop. You frowned at it, wondering who could possibly be emailing you this late but then you recognized the sender.

It was the reply you'd been waiting on from the organizers from the Celebrity Host Haunted House. Clicking the email open, your eyes scanned the message. The organizer was setting you up with a private tour, TONIGHT. "9 pm," you finished reading aloud, relief flooding your entire body. It meant a long assed, sleepless night whilst you wrote your article, but it was better than the looming threat of unemployment. Plus, on the upside, as it was a charity gig the organizer had pulled out the big guns and the blurb on the email told you that it was to feature none other than Lucas Lee, a once-upon-a-time famous A-List Movie star, who was possibly just as arrogant as Hugh Ransom Drysdale, but you had to give it to him, in the films you’d seen he was actually damned good, and also pretty hot so…every cloud.

Glancing at your clock, you had just enough time to clock out and grab a quick bite at a drive thru on your way. The location was nearly an hour outside the city so you needed to get gone and fast. A quick reply telling the organizer you were on your way was sent out and you grabbed your coat, pulling it on over your sweater dress and were gone.

It took a good hour like you'd estimated and that was with stopping for a quick meal, to reach the address your GPS brought you to. It was creepy even at its first glance so you could only hope this payed off. With a quick swig of your watered down and flat fountain drink, you grabbed your bag and phone, exiting your vehicle and locking it shut. The cool night air bit at your exposed cheeks and you were glad you'd worn your coat and tights.

As you stood, gazing at the dilapidated house you shivered, as though, ice had replaced you spine. The walkway leading up to house was cracked, blood red roses grew wildly in thick batches by the gate and the moonlight cast a ghoulish glow on the house. Vines formed a twisted maze upon the side of the of the house's walls which showed the black decay of neglect, in between which splotches of original paint hinted at the house’s former prosperity. Cobwebs covered the corners of the doors, tiny black spiders threading towards their prey and you gave another shudder, as far as first impressions went, yeah, it was fitting for a Halloween Haunted House tour.

Pulling out your phone, noticing you had no reception (of course you wouldn’t, wasn’t that the cliché?) you took a few photos to use in the article and then gave a little squeak as the door creaked open on its own. Arching your eyebrow slightly, in a manner very much like the man you were here to meet, you strode forward and into the house. Immediately a musty, dank odour crept into your nose. The house was deadly silent except for the intermittent creaks and moans typically associated with a property that age. Black and brown mold dotted the ceiling of the tall hallway you stood in and the windows that framed the door on either side were covered with grime and dirt meaning the calm moonlight struggled to penetrate the darkness in thin thread rays, the main source of light being the open doorway. Sharp shadows roamed around the room and as your eyes adjusted to the dim light you noticed that there was a bright white envelope almost perched on the wooden table to the side of the hall. It was the newest thing in the room, so was obviously there for you.

You crossed over, the heels of your suede boots clicking loudly out in the silence of the hallway, and gently reached out for the envelope. A single word- Start- was written on the front in cursive, looping scrawl, very fitting for a spooky note. Another detail you committed to memory for your write up. You slid your finger into the crook of the envelope and slid it open. Inside was a small, white card, containing a message written in the same writing.

To ensure that you don’t become tomorrow’s big news, In this envelope you’ll find the first of 6 clues Of your super sleuth skills you should be proud, So make sure that you read your answers out loud. As one by one they lead to your ultimate demise. Which may or may not be a scary surprise…

Okay, now you were interested. This wasn’t just a walk through some scary assed, supposedly haunted house where Lucas Lee was no doubt set to jump out at you in some ridiculous disguise. This was a scavenger hunt, and your natural inquisitiveness was piqued. 'This could be fun', you thought as you reached for the next card that was in the envelope, reading the first clue.

I’m tall when I’m young, and I’m short when I’m old. I also give heat but, not enough to prevent cold

You pondered for a second, heat was leading you to think of a fire, and they certainly grew shorter with time, well eventually when they burnt out…but then again, the longer they went the hotter they got, and they certainly prevented the cold. Scanning the hallway for anything that might fit the description, your eyes flicked up to the ceiling which held an elaborate, but tarnished candelabra style chandelier. And then it hit you. Tall when young, short when old.

“Candle…” you spoke “The answer is Candle…”

At that the door leading to the outside slammed shut behind you, and you gave an involuntary scream as the dominant source of light was sealed off. You spun round to look at it, and then your scream turned in to a laugh as you shook your head, for an Investigative Reporter you prided yourselves on steely nerves but so far that was twice this adventure had caught you off guard.

Turning back round, you then spotted that the door at the end of the hall was open, and you could clearly make out a Jack-o-Lantern looking at you, the candle inside flickering. Its face was creepy, really creepy. The nose and eyes were harsh triangles and the grotesque, twisted smile it sported was constructed of sharp, jagged teeth. You reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone. You may have had no service, but the flashlight was working. Keeping the light held in front of you so you could watch your step on the cracked tiles of the hall, you made your way towards the lantern and found yourself in a large, run down kitchen. The lantern and your flash-light provided the only light in the room as the windows were all overshadowed by gnarly trees, their branches every so often scratching the glass as they swayed slightly in the wind outside. The only other sound to be heard was the drip, drip of the faucet in the porcelain Belfast sink.

A closer look revealed the discoloration of the water, a brownish concoction as it swirled down the plug. There was an envelope on the side of the counter by the lantern and as you crossed towards it, a movement in your peripheral made you spin round only to see a lone mouse scuttling away across the dirty wooden floor. You placed your phone down, flash-light up causing it to light up an area of the Artex plaster ceiling, and picked up the envelope, tearing it open to find your next clue

Mr Jack-o-Lantern lights the night His eerie face is shining bright The ????? that shaped him lies around And holds your next clue safe and sound

“Oh come on…” you muttered, “That’ ones obvious. Knife, the answer is knife…” You picked up your phone and shone it around the various surfaces of the kitchen and your eyes honed in on a wooden knife block containing a solitary knife. You crossed the room towards it and as you closed in on it, you noticed that the handle of the knife was an ornate silver filigree. It was no ordinary kitchen knife and as you pulled it form the block you realised it was in fact a dagger, antique by the looks of things. The blade was curved slightly, reaching a sharp point, the silver tarnished. But the more you looked at it, the more you suddenly became horribly aware that it wasn’t merely a dullness of colour at all. It was blood.

“Dramatic…” you mumbled, and with a sigh you then realised there was no clue attached to it. Was this a distraction? A decoy? You were just about to stat ransacking drawers to find the actual knife you needed, when you glanced back at the block the dagger had been held in and noticed a flash of white peeking from underneath. Picking it up and moving it aside you smiled as you saw the same cursive writing, spelling out the word three. Seeing as you might as well play along, you used the dagger to slit the envelope open, tossing it back down on the counter as you read the next clue.

Many a Child on me they may play Any time be it night or day. My surface is hard, on it you can knock I have many keys, but can’t open a single lock…

“What has keys but doesn't open a lock?" You pondered aloud. Adjusting your cross-body strap, you sigh. Then the answer came to you, "a piano."

You fell silent, your mind racing to how the hell you were going to find a piano in this decrepit and yet enormous house. Then, your ears heard it. The subtle note from deep inside the house. It was a single key. But now that wasn't your concern, no, it wasn't the mice or the bugs or even the brown water. Your heart raced at the notion that someone was in fact in the house with you.

"Alright, Lee, you were always one for a flare of the dramatics, let's see what you've got."

Step by step you followed the note that chimed every few steps and you found yourself beginning to wonder if it was a recording or if someone were really playing it, timing their play with the sound of your boots over the rotting floor. You wound your way through the narrow hall, ancient wall paper peeling from its tack, mastick and plaster falling away to reveal studs in places.

Finally, to your left you heard the key loud and clear. It was in that room. Steeling yourself for a possible encounter, you carefully pushed the sliding door away from its hinge. Your booted feet traipsed across the brittle carpet, dust swirling in the air in front of your face. Cobwebs adorned many of the surfaces and there were dirty white sheets covering the various pieces of furniture in the room. Apart from, that is, the large ornate grand piano that sat in the middle of the room.

The stool in front of it suddenly jolted back and tilted toward you, making you scream at the gracious invitation by an as of yet invisible host.

“Get a grip Y/N” you mumbled to yourself. You were surprised to find just how much this place was starting to set your nerves on edge. You took a deep breath, the pounding of blood in your ears began to quiet and you took a look around the room. There was no one in there with you, you were alone.

With slow, deliberate steps you moved towards the piano, your eyes sweeping over the mahogany surface, searching for an envelope with the next clue, but there was none to be found. The surface of the piano was thick with dust and grime, but as you scanned over it you suddenly stopped. On one of the white keys the dust was disturbed, as if it had been wiped away and you instantly realised that had to be the key that your so far elusive host must have been playing. You paused, biting at the nail on your thumb of you right hand, before you reached out with your left and tapped the key. The melodic note rang around the room, clearly, echoing in the silence and for some reason you were taken back to a part of the article you had been thinking about earlier that day, and how Detective Blanc had told you that he had ‘played a key’ during the various family interviews ‘to make my point without interruption’. It didn’t pass you by how fitting that actually was at that moment but you didn’t have much time to reflect on it, as you heard a creak and a grinding noise and you spun to your left to see a panel in the wall sliding open. It made you jump slightly, but this time you didn’t scream.

Not for the first time, you had to admire the effort Lucas was going to here. It was clear he had a flare for the dramatic, anyone could see that from his films and interviews but this was pretty damned good. It was making you wonder how he was doing it. Was he somewhere watching, pressing buttons to enact the various parts of his show? Instinctively you glanced up, looking for a camera or something you were being monitored by but you found no evidence of anything.

“Well, in for a penny…” you muttered, crossing towards the small hatch. It was just wide enough for you to get your hand into, but you really didn’t want to. You grabbed your torch and shone it into the hole, finding nothing but the envelope so deciding it was safe you reached in and pulled it out.

Sometimes coloured, sometimes plain sometimes frosted, sometimes stain Be you short or thin, or fat or tall, this simple invention, lets you look right through a wall

You pondered for a moment, before the answer came to you. Fairly quickly you might add. Feeling a little smug you smiled and cleared your throat.

“Window. It’s a window.”

Usually, at that point, something happened to point your attention to the place you should be looking but this time, there was nothing. Instinctively you looked out of the one on the wall by the piano, but as you stared at nothing but the darkness outside you realised that was too obvious. Just then your ears picked up a sound you couldn’t quite figure out, but it was familiar all the same. And then it came to you, it was the familiar click and clack of a skateboard, the wheels gliding over the brittle old floor and you span round in the direction it was coming from to see a window you hadn’t noticed before, this one was an ornate, stained glass window which bore some kind of flower design that faced directly out into the hall.

He passed by slower than a flash but just enough to allow you to catch only a glimpse. You audibly gasped, your breath coming in a sharp intake of fright, because until then you had been alone on this chase. But it appeared you dramatic host had finally come out to play. He was merely a shadow, bulky in frame, tall and dressed all in black as he moved past but it was enough to puzzle you. You didn’t remember Lucas being that broad, or tall. With a frown you ran into the hall to catch him but saw nothing, and heard nothing, the only thing to indicate he had been there was a faint smell of the cedar and amber of what you assumed to be cologne.

You paced quickly down the hall in the direction the figure had gone but as you passed the stairwell the light flickered on, instantly attracting your attention. You’d only briefly noticed the ornate staircase before, but with the lack of light you certainly hadn’t noticed the writing on the wall, dripping in fresh paint. Swallowing, as you mouth suddenly felt dry with fear you stepped onto the first stair, and as soon as you did you were plunged into almost complete black. Letting out a shriek as, once again, he’d managed to get the drop on you, you shook your head and reached for your phone, taking another few steps up so you were level with the next clue which you read aloud.

“Tonight is not all fright and fear, a trick or treat is waiting near, the bedroom holds a sweet surprise, there solve the clue to claim your prize.” You bit your lip and looked up at the top of the stairs, wondering when someone was going to jump out at you. Taking a deep breath, you made your way up, cringing at each creak your feet caused on the old warped wood, but it didn’t sway your determination to make it to your destination.

Halfway up, a shadow flickered at the corner of your vision at the top on the landing and you froze, your mouth going dry once more. As you stood there, shining your light into the dark you caught the same scent from moments ago lingering in the air only this time it was stronger, far more powerful and you were able to denote even more of the notes within. Alongside the amber and cedar your heightened senses picked up deep, earthy, sandalwood notes with a hint of citrus in the background. And it was familiar for reasons beyond the fact you’d smelt it down stairs. But, as you’d surmised earlier, it was a cologne. Probably one worn by a few people you knew.

Yes that was it.

“Jesus Christ Y/N what has gotten into you?” You rolled your eyes and continued up the stairs, clearly your ‘Celebrity Host’ was once more nearby.

You cautiously got to the top of the stairs and glanced around. Nothing. So turning to your left you entered the first room you found on the hall. It was empty bar a creepy looking doll that had been separated from its head which lay about a foot to the right. As you looked around the room, the wind intensified outside, the rustling of the leaves and branches became louder, as did the creaking of the house…and then you gulped, as you realised it wasn’t just the house that was creaking. In the corner of the room, the little chair had begun to rock, slowly. Blowing out a breath and shaking your head, you looked around at the thin strips of wallpaper which showed little trucks. Crayon markings scrambled upon the wall where wallpaper used to stick but other than that there was nothing in there bar some pretty good theatrics. You had to hand it to Lee, the creepy feel was fantastic and you were going to give him one hell of a write up for this. You took a while longer to take in the detail, smiling to yourself before you closed the door and headed to the one over the hallway.

This room was a little lighter thanks to a lamp which stood on a nightstand. It wasn’t bright, by any means, but it was enough so that you could clearly see the bed in the middle of the room. And there, placed by the pillows was a thin box. On unsteady legs, you shuffled slowly towards the bed, the box before you making you quiver, your insides churning. A shaky hand tilted the lid open slowly, afraid something would pounce in a sneak attack. You shut your eyes ready to protect them in case a bat or bugs flew at you and when nothing happened, you opened them slowly and inspected the boxes contents. There was no envelope this time, just copy of a newspaper. Your newspaper. And you felt your blood run cold as you recognise the bold headline across the top. Murder, He Wrote: A twisted tale of Inheritance, Crime and Exoneration "Drysdale," you whispered in realization. But now, while you were well aware of what the article meant and who it was referring to, your brain shut down processing how on earth Lucas Lee and Ransom could possibly be connected. Your breathing deepened and you moved to pick up the article, but then the lid to the box caught your eye and you froze, for on the inside of the lid was another clue, only this one was a straight forward question which was spelled out using cut-out letters from the newspaper in question.

I’m light as a feather, yet the strongest person can’t hold me for five minutes. What am I?

You froze, for the answer was simple. Breath. And that was it, you needed to get out. You started to back away from the bed, but before you had so much as made it 3 steps you collided with something hard. A forceful arm across your front pinned you to a firm and broad chest that engulfed your frame while a cloth with a distinct smell and cool moisture covered your airways.

"Surprise" The voice in your ear, calm, deep and known, was all you heard before nothing consumed you.

*****

When Y/N went limp in his arms, Ransom laid her across the bed only leaving the room to hurriedly cover his tracks, blowing out candles and removing any trace of her that had been in the house. His time as his grandfather's research assistant gave him far more experience than it should have. When he returned to the bedroom she was still out cold but light as a feather as he carried her downstairs and out the back door to the awaiting SUV, smug that his plan had gone so well.

But then, didn’t everything for him? He was Ransom Drysdale, and he was fucking untouchable.

He drove away from the scene of his new crime towards the city, driving through the dead of night, on the beltway, and continued twenty minutes outside downtown Boston before pulling into the garage of a large red cedar and quartzite home. He killed the engine and closed the garage door, pulling Y/N from the seat she was slumped in when it was clear to do so.

He couldn't be seen, he wouldn't be seen. He carried her inside the spacious home, his boots tapping heavily against the dark marble floor of the kitchen and finally the lush carpeted staircase that wound down into the basement.

This is where he laid her, in the basement, on a bed, but not just any bed, the one that would now become hers. He adjusted the lighting in the space, low enough not to disturb her, but bright enough to give the room a glow so he could finish what he'd set out to do. In the shock of the struggle in the bedroom, she’d dropped her phone and he’d made sure to smash it long before he left the haunted house, making sure there'd be no device to track her. He'd already disposed of her car while she was playing his little game, every loose end as far as he could see was tied up.

And now she was all his.

He brushed the hair away from Y/N’s face where it had fallen over her eyes. With gloved hands he manoeuvred her undone, black woollen coat off her body, leaving her in the bottle green turtle neck sweater dress and thick tights she was wearing before he tossed it over the chair in the corner of the room and then undid the zips on her brown suede knee high boots. He dropped them to the floor, kicking them towards the same corner with the equal carelessness he’d shown her coat. With a final meticulous movement he rearranged her on the bed, so he’d appear more comfortable and just before he left the room, he wrapped the cool, metallic cuff around the ankle. It locked in place with a clink and with a final glance at her still unconscious form, he turned and exited the room, the door latching shut and with the snap of the deadbolt he locked her in.

*****

Your head pounded, your nose burned and your mouth felt dry with the faintest taste of something foul lingering as you swallowed. The light was low but still your eyes ached. You tried to decipher exactly what the hell had happened to you while you got your bearings. You tried to sit up but your body felt heavy, the soft bed you now realized you were lying on was not your own. Your breathing rapidly increased as you started to move in fear but a clink caused a screech to escape your throat. You felt the weight of the cuff around your ankle and a full panic set it.

Your night flashed quickly through your glutamate and adrenaline flooded brain

You remembered getting the email from the Haunted Mansion supposedly hosted by Lucas Lee. You had arrived and were sent on what you thought was a fun and exhilarating maze littered with clues and riddles and then you remembered the last piece of the puzzle. You gasped as you remembered how his breath felt hot on your skin and how his voice registered in your mind.

"Drysdale," you repeated the last word you had spoken in a shaky, frightful voice. "No."

Rage and fear collided in your chest as you screamed out the only thing you could think of, "HELP!" A strangled sound left your chest followed by another cry out for help, "Please, someone, HELP!"

The door to your room, now coming into focus around you, flew open and there he stood, smug smirk, raging ocean blue eyes, hair neatly in place, dismantling frame clothed in a black sweater and dark denim, heavy footfalls sounding against the thick carpet under his feet.

"Nice to see someone's awake," Ransom deadpanned.

You stared for a brief moment and screamed for help again, louder, and louder, and louder until you felt your voice crack and strain, your cords burning as the sound shattered away.

"Are you done?" He cocked his head to the side and folded his arms across his chest as he stood firm and tall in front of the bed.

"What the hell are you doing? Why am I here?" It hurt to speak but you had to ask.

“Because I want you here, Sweetheart.”

"I...I'm not, don't call me that," you spat defiantly as he moved closer, taking you in, his predatory eyes moving over your body. This was it, you were going to die all because some trust fund prick was a hurt baby about an article (that you forcibly apologized for) revealing the sick and sadistic truth about him, his family, money and the justice system.

"Are you gonna kill me?” You watched him carefully as he crossed the room towards you, trying to keep your voice calm so as not to betray the utter fear that was coursing through your veins at the fact you were trapped, fuck knows where, shackled to a bed with a murderer being your captor. “That's what this is about, right? My apology wasn't enough?"

"Your apology was forced bullshit.” He responded, his voice carried a hint of amusement, because of course, this was all a game to him. “You smeared my name, dragged my reputation though the mud and you expected an apology like that, half assed and full of more crap than your original hatchet piece, to be enough?" He was standing damn near over you now, a hand moving up your leg that was held by the cuff, your body frozen in a confused silent argument of fight or flight.

"You... Killed... Him." You grit out through clenched teeth, and his hand was on your throat before you finished your breath, squeezing just enough to make a point.

"No. I. Didn't." He lied and you had to hand it to him, a lesser person might have bought the garbage he was talking, because he was good at it. Lying must have been enough of a second nature for him that he actually believed everything he said himself. But then again, it wasn't actually a lie was it? Sure, he'd planned on indirectly killing Harlan and that plan had backfired and Harlan had actually slit his own throat. So at most he was indirectly responsible for his death, but none of that had stuck with the prosecution and so now here he was, a free man.

A struggled chuckle came from your tightened throat, "Jesus Christ, you actually believe your own bull shit don't you?"

"You've got a fucking mouth on you," he breathed as his body loomed ominously over the bed and your frame, tiny in comparison to his.

You swallowed, feeling the hard lump strain to pass his grip, "Not really, you just don't like hearing the truth."

His eyes bored into yours and you struggled for breath as his hand constricted around your neck whilst he squeezed a little harder "Oh shut up Y/N."

"Or what, Hugh?" You croaked.

A little flash of anger tore through his ocean blue eyes like lightning in a storm. His eyes bored into yours as you fought to swallow.

"Or I'll shut you up myself."

"Try me, you son of a...." You didn't expect his lips to cover yours but they did. Unexpectedly warm and soft, despite the painfully harsh kiss. You managed to pull away but his hand still gripped at your throat and you felt the fear constricting your chest. But you were damned if you were going to show him a shred of weakness.

“You’re an asshole, Hugh…” It was all you had, the only thing you could use in your arsenal given your situation. You still had your voice. And you’d noticed that for whatever reason he appeared to hate that name.

“Don’t... fucking call me that!” his voice rose to a loud, angry instruction, apoplectic rage seeping from him to you, and it was almost stifling.

“Or what? You'll kill me?” your voice rose in both volume and pitch as your desperation began to show. “We both know you're gonna do that once you've fulfilled whatever sick, twisted little fantasy this is. What are you waiting for, Hugh? Huh?”

Ransom scoffed, "Kill you, no, see I'm gonna teach you a lesson. One about how money and status get you anything you want.”

You frowned, as you looked into his icy blue eyes, utterly confused “Anything you want? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You'll see Princess” was the sole explanation you got as he knelt between your legs.

You stayed stock still as large and surprisingly gentle hands trailed your curves up the outside of your thighs to your hips. As he reached the hem of your sweater dress he paused as you wrapped your hands around his wrists.

"Don't" you squeezed, attempting to stop his wrists and close your legs.

“This will be much easier if you just play-along, sweetheart” he muttered as he pressed his lips to your neck. You let go of his wrists and raised your hands, laying them over the wool of his cable knit, palms flat against the plain of muscle as you attempted to push him off.

“I said no.” you tried to keep your voice stern, despite the fact you were fighting back the fear and sadness at the realization of his task was now at hand. His large hands smoothed over your dress, cupping your breasts and he let out a moan as you bit back the bile in your throat that was threatening to spill from your mouth. You pushed harder trying to force him off of you but it was of no use, his broad frame caged you in, engulfing you under him.

“I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.” He ground out, his lips inches from your ear as he nipped at your skin. He was impressively strong and balanced, his weight even through his body as he kept his knees between your legs, a hand against your breast and the other stroking your sides and up your thigh. All the while, his lips sucked at your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point as you turned your head away, tears filling your eyes

"Please, stop," you managed. "Hugh, stop!"

“I told you not to call me that.” He growled against your skin and pulled back, his eyes blazing as they locked on to yours. In sheer desperation, you managed to wrench a free hand from between you and gave him a slap, nails biting at his skin. Instantly you knew you’d pissed him off. His nostrils flared, his jaw set and as his eyes filled with fire and rage.

And you knew then, you were in for it.

“Bitch…” he snarled as he raised his left hand to his face where you had struck him, and then both his hands grabbed yours, yanking your arms up, pinning them above your head. You bucked upwards, violently in an attempt to shake him off, but it was futile. He was far too strong. His grip on your wrists grew tighter and despite yourself you let out a small whimper of fear.

In one hand he had the ability to cuff both of your wrists and he did so while his other grabbed at your dress, shoving it further up your body, fingers curling over the waist of your tights and panties, a handful of the material fisted in his palm. They wouldn't slide down quick enough and you felt your body lift away from the mattress slightly as he ripped away the material, the snap burning your skin. You fought, boy did you fight. You had no control of your hands or arms as he had them easily pinned, but your legs and the rest of your body gave as good as they could. You thrashed from side to side all the time screaming your objections. You drew your knees up to your chest in an attempt to buck him off. You screamed protests, threw every insult you had at him, but it was no use. He was simply too strong.

He didn't even bother with his belt or button, he just unzipped the flies on his jeans, pulled his solid cock free and slid in. You were wetter than you expected to be, but it still burned with friction and ached from the thick stretch against your tight walls. It hurt, definitely hurt.

"You know you want this. I know you want this." He rasped as he pulled out before thrusting back in, his face twisted in a look that was halfway between being smug and satisfied. Just looking at him made you feel sick but for some reason you were unable to look away as he continued his slow assault, before he picked up the pace slightly, his groans of satisfaction filling the room as he bottomed out, balls deep and it was at that point you closed your eyes and tried to block out what he was doing to you. But try as you might to remain mentally detached from the situation, your body was anything but. And the more he moved in and out of you, the more you could feel your physical reactions. You were powerless to stop them and the heat between your legs and in between your belly was spiking with each thrust into you.

It felt good. And you knew it shouldn’t. So you fought it, but eventually, you couldn't fight it anymore, not with the way his thick cock filled you, velvety smooth skin sliding in and out of your defiant core. You didn't want to cum, but your body told your brain it was going to and Ransom nearly puffed his chest as he fucked you into your body's submission.

"You're gonna fucking cum, aren't you, Sweetheart? I can feel it," he ground out, chasing his own release. You remained silent, breathing heavily as your insides coiled and tightened. "Fucking tight ass pussy," he gritted. You refused to cry out, not wanting to give him anything you were able not to, and it took everything you had to remain silent. In desperation, to quell the cry that was rising from your throat, you bit your tongue, tasting the coppery taste of blood in your mouth as you came hard around his cock.

“Fuck, yeah…see…” Ransom’s hips began to move faster, and then with a sudden movement he pulled out of you, making you wince involuntarily at the sting. He shot his load all over your thighs, a growl bubbling from his throat, the warmth of his release trickling down your leg made you feel even more dirty than you already did.

“Not so fucking smart are we now, huh, miss Investigative Reporter…” his snap was snide, and childish, but you knew he couldn’t help himself. Your head remained defiantly in its position on the pillow, turned to the right, eyes focussed on a spot on the wall. “Look at me, bitch.”

When you didn’t do as he asked, he grabbed your chin bruisingly, making you wince as he pulled your face round so he could see you. You knew he would be able to see the tears on your face, and you hated that. Hated that he would see how much he’d hurt you, scared you even,

His hand let go of your face and you stared at him, swallowing, trying to gather your voice in your painfully dry throat.

"That's all you got? You're a fucking child, Drysdale. It's why you’re doing this." You said, your voice trembling and croaking from the fear and exertion of what he had just put you through and you shook your head. “You’re a fucking man child with mommy and daddy issues. A spoilt, little whiney brat who can’t bear to be told no.”

That struck a nerve, you could tell, as his jaw clenched tight and his fists clenched around the sheets by your side to the point they were shaking. He grabbed your chin once more with his right hand and pinned your face still, forcing your eyes to look back at his

“You'll be begging me to accept your apology.” He snarled, his face contorted in rage “You'll see who the whiney child is soon enough. I promise Princess, it's not me”

As you looked at him, you felt your anger starting to simmer. This fucking ass hole had just raped you, and he had the gall to be saying you were going to tell him that you were sorry. No chance in hell. You knew you were screwed, literally and figuratively. Whilst he had you captive behind a bolted door, shackled to a bed you had nowhere to go, he knew that you knew that too and you could see it in his face as a smug smirk flickered on his lips. Well fuck this, if you were going down it was with a fight. With a sudden movement, that caught him off guard you moved your head slightly as much as you could in his painful grip, and spat right in his face.

Ransom blinked, his anger morphing to shock, then back to fury once more as he released your face and with a flash of his hand he back handed you straight across the face. The blow to your right cheek snapped your head to the left, sucking the breath from your lungs and leaving you a little dazed.

“Fuck you.” He sneered as he rose to his feet, wiping his face. Silently he rearranged his pants, tucking his now soft cock back inside them, and swept from the room, locking the door behind him.

***** Ransom stormed up the steps to the kitchen of the house, slamming the top door behind him and bolting that one shut too. He was furious that little bitch had scratched him and no doubt marked his face. He strode over the marble tiles of the room and walked into the large hallway and across into the den. He made his way straight to the bar, poured himself a healthy measure of good scotch, slopping a little on the dark wooden counter, before he glanced up at the large mirrored surface of the bar behind the shelves.

He could make out three vivid red lines down his left cheek where she’d dug her nails into his flesh and his jaw clenched. His hair was out of place, his cheeks flushed and his normally cold eyes were blazing with anger. But as he stood there staring at his dishevelled reflection, he knew it wasn’t the fact she’d scratched or spat at him that was pissing him off so much. It was the fact she had persistently voiced a name he despised, one that was used to control those lower than him in his every-day life. One reserved for The Help, for outsiders. It reminded him of his family, of his mother and father, the two people in his life who should have loved him unconditionally but instead had him out of ‘duty’ and had taken every opportunity to pass him off into the care of others they could. It reminded him of Walt persistently telling him he was a no-one, that he would amount to nothing over than a trust-fund baby.

It reminded him of Harlan. The one person in that entire fucked up patriarchy that had shown him an ounce of care. But who had screwed him over in the end.

The anger that had been simmering inside him boiled over, the blood pumped into his ear and with an angry yell and an almost involuntary action Ransom hurled the glass tumbler straight at the wall where it smashed against the tasteful silver and white wallpaper, the 25 year old single malt trickling down the wall…just like the tears and trickled down Y/N’s cheeks as he’d forced her to look at him whilst he took what was his.

As she’d glared up at him he’d noticed a fierceness in her eyes that he was surprised to find had unnerved him a little, because she clearly wasn’t going to be as easy to break as he thought.

“Fuck it.” He mumbled to himself, grabbing the bottle from the bar before he turned and left the room, taking a large swig as he went, the burn in his throat going someway to settling his nerves.

This would work out, because he was Ransom fucking Drysdale, a man who always got what he wanted in the end, and she was going to be no exception.

**** Part 2

#murder he wrote #j's haunted house 2020 #dark ransom #dark ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale #reader insert #chris evans #chris evans characters

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julyarchives · 3 years

Text

Baby, pull me closer || (M)

If you had ever believed in soulmates, it was because of Jo Jinho. When you were just hanging out at a bar with a few coworkers on a Friday night, the last thing you expected was to be confronted with your past.

→ A/n: Jinho x Female Reader

→ Genre: Angst; Smut

→ Words: 3K

→ Contains: Exes to Lovers; some angst; Talk about feelings; Break up.

→ A/n: We might have gotten carried away with the word count 😅 but we hope we could live up to the request! Thank you again for the anon who did it! We hope you all like it 🥰

If you had ever believed in soulmates, it was because of Jo Jinho. You two met in High School and were inseparable since day 1. He was your prince charming, the love of your life, your ride or die. Your life with him was a fairytale, and you caught yourself wondering so many times how lucky you were to have him in your life. You two worked hard to get into the same college and the time you spent there only made your connection stronger, and you knew it in you that you were his forever.

Which only made the break up more painful.

When you were offered the scholarship of your dreams, your first instinct was to go running to him and share the news, so you could celebrate together. But it was only seconds later that you stopped to think about everything that it would implicate. Jinho’s dream job required him to stay in the city and you would never want to be the person to make him give up everything for a relationship. You were selfish enough to put your goals first, but not selfish enough to rip him out of his.

So, after a lot of thinking, you made the most excruciating decision of your life.

“What do you mean? You can’t possibly be serious. You’re joking, right?” Jinho asked, voice trembling and tears pooling in the corner of his eyes.

The lump in your throat almost took your voice away, but you quickly swallowed it, convincing yourself that this was the only right decision.

“I told you, Jinho, I just don’t feel anything anymore. This relationship won’t work if I’m not in love with you. You deserve better, and it’s best if we break up now so you don’t get any more hurt. I don’t want to hurt you, Jinho.”

“Y/N, please” His tears fell freely now. He held you close by the waist, fists curling around the hem of your shirt “Please, don’t say this. I don’t believe you.”

He leaned his forehead against yours, and you closed your eyes, trying -and failing - to hold back your own tears.

“Please” he whispered

His lips grazed against yours and you let him kiss you, tasting the salty tears that were completely unrestrained by now.

“I’m sorry” was the last thing you whispered before leaving without looking back. Completely heartbroken at the sound of him calling your name in between sobs.

That’s why when you hear his voice calling your name again, almost 2 years later, you almost couldn’t believe your ears.

You were just hanging out at a bar with a few coworkers on a Friday night, the last thing you expected was to be confronted with your past.

“Jinho?” you turned around, knowing who you would see.

You always thought Jinho was the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, and it is not like you haven’t checked his social media after the break up, but nothing had prepared you for the way he looked in front of you.

So much had passed, so obviously he looked way more mature than the last time you actually saw him in person, with traces you couldn’t see over a photo, but adorned his face like it had always been there, and only complemented his charming self.

The suit and glasses added to it as well, but what made your heart stop was the smile. It was like traveling back in time, to when you could see him everyday in comfortable sweatpants and loose T-shirts, playing guitar by the window of his apartment, the golden dawn light shimmering on his skin.

Your daze was broken as he approached and you tried to find anything to say at all, but it felt like you forgot each and every word in your own language.

“Hey” was all that came out of you, and you cursed yourself mentally for being a grown ass woman acting like a teenager again.

"I did not expect to see you here." he said, a confused look on his face

"Yeah, I live here now." You offered a smile, but you were actually nervous thinking how living in this city is basically what broke you two up.

"Nice to know I'll have a familiar face around! I got a job here now, I just moved in"

"Really?" You were surprised "congratulations on the new job"

"Thank you" He smiled in return, eyes turning into crescent moons "since we're here, would you like to grab something to drink? I would love to catch up with you"

You always thought of getting in touch with Jinho over the years. Every time you thought of him or checked him online, you thought of texting. What actually stopped you was the thought that what you did was unforgivable and he probably hated you after you ignored the many times he tried to reach you after you told him you wanted to break up. The last time you saw each other was when you went to return his stuff, and get yours' from him, and that did not go well. You two barely looked at each other and you don't ever remember saying anything, but you couldn't forget how heartbroken he was.

It threw you completely off guard when invited you to catch up because you expected him to hate your guts. But then again, it was a long time ago, he probably was over it, like you were. At least you thought so.

"Sure, why not?" You answered shyly.

He led you both to a table while your coworkers grinned at you, and you silently shushed them.

The conversation started a little awkward, both of you walking on eggshells to avoid the "ex" subject. You caught up eventually, and you were glad to know that he actually achieved the job he always wanted and was very focused on his career, and he was happy to know that the same happened to you.

Before you two realized, the conversation was flowing easily, and you were laughing together and messing with each other, feeling like nothing actually changed between you two. The connection was still there and you honestly felt happy about it.

When the bartender warned about the last call Jinho offered to share a cab home with you because it was already late, and you gladly accepted it, just so you could stretch the time spent with him.

"I'm glad we ran into each other" he said like he could read your thoughts.

"Me too, I'm having a lot of fun." You admitted, you two reaching the front door of your house.

"I gotta be honest, though, I thought we wouldn't see each other again." He said with a half-smile "the way that things happened with us…"

"Yeah, I know…" you gently interrupted, too embarrassed to bring that up "But I'm happy to see you, really. I didn't even see the time passing."

"Right?" He agreed "it ended too fast."

"I might have a bottle of wine we can open if you would like to come in" your mouth ran faster than your brain, and you felt really stupid for asking that like you were pushing some kind of limit there.

You felt a little more comfortable when he didn't take long to make up his mind and accepted your invitation.

You entered your house and kicked your heels off to the side while you heard Jinho closing the door behind himself.

Out of a sudden, you felt too shy to look at him, so you kept yourself busy with other stuff.

You tried to take your coat off, but the collar got caught in your necklace's chain, and you simply couldn't undo it yourself.

"Here, let me." Jinho promptly helped, gently untangling it.

He went further and pushed the coat off of your shoulders delicately, his fingers grazing on your bare skin exposed from your sleeveless dress. His knuckles ran all the way down your arms and you were too aware of his body next to yours, goosebumps rising on your skin when his warm breath hit the back of your neck.

"Please tell me you don't have a boyfriend." He whispered, his fingers grazing on your waist while he stood behind you.

Your breath got caught in your throat and you knew the implications of that question. You also knew that what he was suggesting, you wanted just as much.

"No, I don't." Your voice was just a barely audible whisper

You almost couldn't finish your sentence when his grasp on your waist tightened and he spun you around, pulling you closer to him, chest to chest, and his lips didn't hesitate to find yours.

Your body reciprocated him in a reflex that comes with a habit, like you never were not used to having him holding you like that.

The kiss was hungry and desperate, your hand messing his hair while he explored every new curve of your body, grasping for any skin he could find.

Jinho pressed you against the wall, trapping you in between the surface and his body. He wrapped one hand around your leg, lifting it up and squeezing up the hem of your dress, his kisses trailing down your neck.

"Fuck, I wanted to do this since I first laid eyes on you." He whispered against your ear before sucking a spot just under it.

All you could answer was a breathy moan, leaning your body to press harder against him.

You took your time exploring his body and couldn't help but notice that his muscles grew stronger as you grazed your nails on his toned chest.

He grinded his hips forward, and you could already feel a semi-hard growing in his pants, the thought of it making you clench in anticipation.

You chased after his lips again, never having enough of it, nibbling at the plump bottom lip that you always loved

"Bedroom?" You whispered in between kisses, your breath already heavy.

Jinho only nodded eagerly, and you held his hand while walking down the hall.

As soon as he figured out the way he was all over you again, backing you up until the back of your knees hit the edge of your bed and he didn't stop kissing you as you both settled on the soft mattress, every touch of his was very rough and commanding.

He kneeled up and you watched him discard his shirt carelessly, the sight making your mouth water. You bit your bottom lip, admiring his body, and he smirks proudly.

Next thing you know he's grabbing you by the hips and pulling you closer to him, making you slide down the sheets and yelp in surprise.

"You've changed" you addressed his manhandling with a naughty tone to it.

"You have no idea" his husky voice hit your ears like music, a tone as mischievous as the grin on his lips.

He pulled your dress up, off of your body, and you followed his lead without hesitating. Your panties were next and soon enough your hands were opening his fly and button, only letting go so he could get his pants and boxer off.

Jinho kissed you again and you moaned. You didn't think you'd ever need him this much again but you could feel your body trembling for him with only kisses. He pulled away and stood there, heavy breathing, eyes focusing on your every detail.

"I never thought I'd have you like this again", he seemed so sincere that made your heart ache.

"You do now", was all you could say before his hands were all over you. Gently caressing from your shoulder to your thighs, his strong hands guiding your legs to be around his waist.

"I don't think I can wait much more. '' Jinho didn't seem pleased with himself, staring at your chest instead of your face. You could see his hard shaft twitching whenever your skin rose up in goosebumps to his touch but the wetness between your legs was not any better.

"Please…".

Before you could say anything else, Jinho was already touching you, hands firmly grasping your breasts and squeezing, playing with your nipples while slowly grinding against you, his dick moving easily against your folds with how slick you were.

He groaned when you moved your hips back, hands exploring his toned chest and arms, touching all parts of him you could reach. You missed him so much that all these years apart only made you desperate to have him.

You were the one who moved lower and grabbed his member, smirking when he groaned lowly. You guided him to your entrance without a word, knowing you wouldn't be able to say anything. Jinho thankfully went along with it, letting go of your breasts and supporting himself with his hands on top of you while slowly entering you.

It felt like the world stopped. He felt so good inside, filling you up completely. Both of you moaned, his forehead leaning against yours. When he moved, you couldn't stop looking at him, his intense eyes and mouth open, his arms flexing from the movements, his hair already messy. Jinho was perfect and you wished you never let go. Looking back into his eyes, you could see he was watching you just the same and soon enough he was moving intensely with you, never breaking eye contact.

Everything started so easily and so intimate but even then it surprised you when you realized you two weren't just going on a nostalgic casual fuck. Jinho was making love to you, moving gently but also hitting your spot perfectly, his muscles flexing in the most delectable way. Your hands rested on his waist, caressing the skin as much as you could while you both moved, too deep in the moment to realize you didn't let go of each other's forehead.

It didn't take long for you to feel the fire burning hotter inside of you, the pleasure being too intense, and feeling a white-hot shock through your body. Neither of you said anything, your moaning, and heavy breathing filling your room in the most sensual way possible. One of your hands moved to his chest, right above his heart and his eyes widened. Jinho picked up his movements, chasing his orgasm as yours took over your body, making you arch and move closer to his body.

Thankfully you had recovered seconds later, just in time to see, and feel Jinho climaxing, his eyes squeezed shut and a low deep grunt falling off his lips beautifully. He laid gently on top of you and kissed you again, deep and longingly. When you pulled back, you couldn't help the bright smile you gave him, a soft giggle falling off your lips at the feeling of him in your arms again. Unfortunately, Jinho only half-smiled back and your guts twisted.

"I think we need to talk".

You could only manage a small "yeah", your smile died down. You pointed at the corridor, getting up after his nod. You didn't take long in the bathroom, too anxious to hear him out but also dreading what was about to come. You picked a sweater from the bathroom that surely wasn't supposed to be there and came back to the room.

Jinho was laying down in your bed, boxers back in place, and had half of his body covered with your comfy blanket. He was fidgeting with the hem of the blanket and you knew he was nervous as well.

"I felt cold, I hope you don't mind", he said with a shy smile.

"Of course not", you said, moving to lay with him under the blanket. He moved until he was laying on his side facing you, you mirroring his position.

"So", you both said at the same and that got a nervous laugh out of both of you. You motioned for him to go first.

"Why?", Jinho said, looking into your eyes. "Why did you leave me back then? Be honest this time, please".

"I-", you froze. You knew he'd say something about that but why was he so sure you lied? "How do you know I was lying?"

"We were perfect, Y/N", his voice was soft, his eyes gleaming. "We were in love and we fit perfectly together. You made me believe in soulmates, I felt like I would spend my life with you. And I know you felt the same".

"My scholarship", you said bluntly. "I couldn't have you give up your life for my dream and I knew you'd do it. I couldn't let go of my dream scholarship but I could never let you jeopardize yours".

Jinho closed his eyes briefly and breathed deeply slowly. Your eyes were filled with tears suddenly, a lot of feelings coming back at once. Regret, love, sorrow, how you missed him.

"I don't know if I feel relieved or even more hurt", he chuckled but you both couldn't see the humor. "I mean, I was sure you loved me but you were so hurtful that I was starting to believe you never actually even liked me".

"No!", you sit up quickly, eyes wide. "I thought it was the only option but I never stopped loving you", you blurted out.

"You… what?"Jinho sat up too then, slowly but surely.

"I know I made a mess and hurt you, but I always loved you when we were together, loved you when I broke up with you and… I honestly think I never got over you completely".

Jinho moved as if he could scare you off at any second. He slowly lifted his hands, thumbs wiping away the tears that fell. It only made you want to run. You had hurt him so much and even then he was taking care of you.

"I'm here now. I- I don't think we can go back to how we were even if we tried. It hurt too much and I don't think we are still the same person we were", he moved until his face was inches away from yours. "I feel the same and always did. I want to heal, I want to help you heal too".

Nodding, you moved to kiss him and sighed in relief when kissed you back.

"We can be friends", you said, lips moving always completely against his. "We can learn about each other again, I can redeem myself", you finished the sentence with a small kiss on his lips and he laughed.

"Friends that may kiss?"

"Friends that definitely will kiss".

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