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penvisions · 2 months

Text

gone to the dogs {chapter 4}

Pairing: Boston QZ! Joel Miller x Reader ; brief mentions of Boston QZ! Joel Miller x Tess Servopoulos

Summary: Unexpected glimpses of your past allow for your softer side to be exposed. But it won't be the thing that alters the dynamic between your trio. No, you have something else planned for that.

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, canon typical gore, outbreak fic, age gap (only by about ten years), angst, dark fic, dark joel miller, mean joel miller, joel miller is uptight, degrading language, sexual language, sexual proposition, violence, heated interactions, descriptions of a minor assault, adult language, fighting, argumentative language, mutual disdain, sexual content, implication of sex work, unprotected piv, sexual acts, reader is snarky, reader gets violent, major injuries, dismemberment, reader meets joel toe-to-toe with insults and it's amazing, both reader and joel pov, lemme know if there are any i missed!

A/N: ARE Y'ALL READY, but seriously, i hope y'all enjoy this chapter *minor spoiler but reader's singing voice is very much akin to ruby leigh from the voice contestant show

ao3 link || series masterlist || joel miller masterlist || ko-fi

It’s early morning, when Tess seeks you out. The sun barely coming up and showing its form over the horizon, the sky swathed in deep oranges and golden tones that remind you of seasonal fruit.

Frank is sitting with you already, coffee brewed fresh and sweetened with frozen ice cubes of coffee creamer and sugar. A surprise you hadn’t anticipated but greatly appreciated as the man beside you refilled your cup time after time to ensure it was never truly empty. Conversation had been light, on the back porch where you had curled up in the wicker loveseat to try and get the weight off of your body for a few hours.

As soon as she shuffled through the door, Frank removed his hand from where it was tangled with your own and said he would get started on breakfast. Wanting to ensure you, all three of you, had a full stomach for the journey back to the zone. His way of taking care of you where you’ll let him, even now in the end of the world.

“Look, I know it may seem like I was playing some game yesterday…” The older woman breaks the silence, knowing your mind must be turning and overturning the events of the last few days.

“Just wanted to know I was meant to be playing along.” She’s not cautious, but there’s a tiredness and stilted manner to her sitting down in one of the matching wicker chairs. The cushion and pillow in the seat do little to comfort the unease you can see in her body. It’s as if she hasn’t slept, or that her sleep was restless just like your own despite the safe environment and almost now foreign amenities.

“I was being genuine with them, Frank…he’s reminded me of who I used to be. As I’m sure he has with you, especially sharing a past I’m not going to ask after. It’s your business and that’s your prerogative.”

“Sent your guard dog after me to listen into my conversation with him, not sure I really believe the sentiment.”

“Cane, you know as well as I do that he does what he wants.”

“Doesn’t take away from the fact that he reports back to you. Acts as if you two are the ones who run things. Conversations I’m not a part of.”

“We all run things, the three of us.” You’re glad for her roundabout honesty, though you know that it’s natural for rifts to divide people, for them to seek out those they are more comfortable with. That talking with someone you feel bonded with, a partner, a friends, is a part of life. That they both must have conversations going over things just as you do with her, though not as frequently.

“Yeah, looks like it from the outside, doesn’t it?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that you two have gotten very comfortable with the way things are in the zone-“

“No more comfortable than you made yourself in my bed the other night.” Her eyes meet your own in a silent challenge, will you lie and cover up the fact you shared Joel’s bed, or will you be honest with the woman who does so on a regular basis. You don’t know Joel as well as she does, but he doesn’t strike you as the type to seek out attention or affection from other’s behind someone’s back. A cheater, he is not, though he has done many questionable things to survive. She doesn’t seem upset, at least outwardly, though you know it must strike a cord near her heart. The way you catch her gazing at him sometimes tells you more of her feelings than she ever has. And for that, you cannot fathom lying.

“That was a lapse of judgement. It had been a shitty day trying to move what little product I had. He didn’t fuck me if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“I don’t care if he did, that’s his prerogative. I don’t own him, I don’t control him-“

“Wouldn’t matter if you did, he needs to feel like he’s got someone to look out for and you’re it. He would do anything for you, does do anything that you ask of him now. It’s me he has a problem with and I’m not entirely sure why he laid with me the way he did.” You try to soothe her as best you can, as best as you’re able to in the situation. She must know what she means to him, or at least what he’s able to with the damage and destruction he’s surely endured.

“He doesn’t have a problem with you-“

“Save it, I know he does. I know you do too, blatantly throwing us under the bus to make us seem like untrained dogs who only snap and bite at those that near us.”

“That was more for him, than for you.”

“And yet you still said it the way you did. It wasn’t appreciated.”

“I didn’t intend for it to hurt your feelings, I apologize if it did. I really am…appreciative of the way you’ve allowed us both to fold into your zone.” It’s obvious, the appeal she’s trying to make to you now. The same woman who had been at the table yesterday. A glimpse of who she used to be, but it bothers you how you can’t tell if she’s genuine or not, if it’s the same play you had been orchestrating with her the past couple of months.

“You came into my home to try and get intel on me before usurping me. Of course you’re grateful I folded you into the scene. You wouldn’t have had anything otherwise.”

“Not nothing, no. But I do realize it would’ve been less if you were getting a portion of the cut of everything we got on both sides.”

You only hummed in response. Aware that this conversation was taking turns you’d rather not delve into at the moment.

“We’ve all gotten comfortable, me included, you’ve given me the room to do so. But I talked to Frankie, he’s willing to convince Bill to agree to it. You’ll lead this one, you did find it after all and there’s no reason for my knowing him to effect that.” You don’t have to fear for someone lunging at you in the dark, for someone using a trade as a rouse to lure you alone to take advantage. Her intelligence and Joel’s strength have allowed you breathing room in the months of constant worry after your brother’s death.

“Joel will need to really be on his best behavior. He’s got his teeth bared because Bill does.”

“Then reign him in.” You meet her eyes, the worry you house at the rise of conflict that is all too real aimed her way but ever present in the way you didn’t have to say anything else. She nods once as you lifted your mug up and took a sip of the wonderful coffee Frank had been kind enough to keep full. “Mind him and lead by example. I will as well.”

“He doesn’t think poorly of you, if he did, he wouldn’t be insistent on joining you beyond the walls.” It’s hard to know how to respond, it’s almost default to fling insults with the older man, to taunt him and see if he rises to the bait, something he does in return. But despite it all, you would defend him should he truly need it and you only hoped he would do the same. You doubt he would die for you, but that was such a rare devotion these days.

“I suppose not, but…should anything happen he will still work with you. He…Joel is someone who needs someone by his side whether he wants to admit it or not. Like you said. And you would be good for him, protect him as he protects you. It’s…good you were willing to work with us.” It’s implied, the connection you both have with the man even if it feels different, looks different. The way she wishes for you to recall that should something happen to her. Infection, sickness, a trade gone wrong, a trigger-happy soldier, anything. She wants to ensure he won’t be alone.

“I swear to you, should something happen, I won’t throw him to the crowd waiting to tear him apart.”

“Thank you.”

“Tess, just- I have a feeling the scene is going to get worse before it stabilizes again. The cartons of cigarettes Frank is going to give us will help but, other things are bound to dry up.”

She’s quiet for a beat, taking in the way you reach for your mug. She’s watching you as much as you’re watching her. It’s not a stalemate, it never is between you two. She knows your penchant for comments on how things are going, the ways your mind works and overworks. Concerned about details and the intricacies of things whereas she’s focused on the entire scene or play. It’s a match, which allows for all things to be considered, working well with each other in the past year. She has to be aware of that, at least, even as tensions rise and perspectives are beginning to warp and shift.

“Cane, this- opportunity to do trade with an outside source, it could help prevent scavenges into the decaying city. You know as well as I do that things are getting harder and harder to find as time goes on. Hell, it’s already beginning to thin.”

“It is…” You agree solemnly.

It’s when you’re in the shower again, before you change into the clothes you had showed up in, that Joel seeks you out. Now washed and dried, folded atop the counter waiting for you. The door opens and closes without the call of a voice but you can hear the distinct steps of Joel as he stand in the middle of the bathroom. Hear the way he’s breathing a little harder than normal. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when you hear the hush of fabric and see the outline of him through the plastic shower curtain move to pick up the dress you had been wearing.

“Dress was nice.” His voice is low, a quiet rumble that washes over your skin much like the shower, though goosebumps sprout up despite the heat of the water.

“I’m not in the mood for games, Miller.” Sighing, you reach for the shampoo, the scent of sandalwood and amber wafting in the steam that fills the room.

“I’m bein’ serious. Looked good on you. Different.” The effect his words on you, his attempt at an actual conversation is one of heat blooming in your middle. He’s so goddamn handsome and it’s a shame he’s such an asshole, molded by the circumstances of the fallen world. He seems to take your words in stride, his mood nothing but calm as the shower continues to rain down on you.

“Everything seems to be different these days.”

“Can be a good thing, sometimes.”

“Can be.” You watch through the clear curtain, dappled with beaded water. He’s shrugging out of his dark green button up. The fabric hushing as it reveals his skin to you for the second time. His chest is dusted with dark hairs, the silver threading through it catching the sunlight filtering into the bathroom.

“Don’t mind, do you?” The clink of his belt and the unzipping of his pants.

“Not particularly, no.” He’s already stepping into the stall, his broad body taking up what little room was left and crowded the space. But it doesn’t feel like he’s cornering you, it feels almost…intimate in the way that his eyes are taking in the form of your body slick from the water and foamed up bubbles trailing down where they drip from your hair. “Just didn’t think you’d be the one to seek me out next.”

Tangling his fingers into your hair, he dips your head back to wash the shampoo from the long tresses.

“There was no need for me to be so…biting last night. I don’t know how to do the whole- talking thing these days. And you have to admit, we don’t do much of that with each other already.”

“They’ll work with us, Frankie is a good man.” You reach for the shampoo again, reaching up with the thick liquid cupped in your hand to lather it into his bowed head. His hair is as soft as you always thought it was, thick curls dark with the weight of the water saturating it.

“Sharing a past with him helps, otherwise it would be a tense and slow start.” His hands are anchored on your hips, fingers digging into your skin as you don’t dare to look down where you feel him soft against your thigh. The admittance of presence helping isn’t lost on you. He’s not one for praise and it’s intense with how close you are in the stall. You hear the apology for his previous words on the matter in his new ones. Though you are unsure if he believes them, you feel the need to but it is hard to tell as his skin touches yours and ignites your blood. “Tess may have set this whole thing up and he may have convinced Bill for the trades, but you are an asset.”

You hold your tongue, the question of ‘an asset or the orchestrator’ drowning from your mind as he noses along your collarbone, ducking his head further to allow you to wash the suds from his curls. As soon as he looks back up, you’re reaching to brush the water from his eyes, his brows, his scruff, watching the way it sticks to his silver threaded hairs and the memory of it against your skin makes pleasure and desire pool in your core.

His hands are turning your willing body around, and he’s firm where he bumps against the back of your thighs, the plush of your ass as you face the wall. And now you feel crowded, as he presses his front to your back, the way he hinges your hips to meet him, for the way he slips into you in one smooth motion for the first time.

But it’s not a bad feeling, it’s comforting being shielded from the rest of the world in this little stall, his body hiding you away and comforting you all at once. It’s a dangerous thought, even as it’s punched out with your heavy breath carrying a moan as he begins to thrust against you. Heat overtakes your senses, from the pleasure rippling through you to the flushed skin pressed to you to the still running stream of the shower. It consumes you even after you peak, after you feel Joel’s own sear into the backs of your thighs, panting breath matched by him as the moment winds down.

“You didn’t tell him your brother wasn’t alive. Just told him you found him.” He breathes into your shoulder, facial hair brushing over your skin to send tingles down your spine. It’s quiet, the way he seeks an answer instead of demands one.

“He doesn’t need to know.” Is your own whispered response, unable to rise to his words with a truth of your own, a vulnerability.

“Thought he was your friend.”

“He is, but he’s…he doesn’t need to know how things really are. He wouldn’t have let me leave.”

“You say that like he has control over you.” His hands are no longer gripping tight, caressing instead along your sides, feeling the dips and valleys of your body with no intention other than to touch. The urge to return the softness twitches your fingers where they are still planted along the wall for support.

“He doesn’t. But if he asked, I would listen. Because I respect him. Mutual respect.”

He parrots the sentiment back to you, as his large hands grip your waist once again to turn you around face to face. There’s something glinting in his eyes, behind the dark brown of them slowly. “An interesting thought.”

“It is.” You nudge your nose against his, breathing him in, the scent of you both mingling in the air.

And he’s suddenly slotting his mouth against yours, droplets raining down over you both as you surge up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, returning his kiss with earnest. It’s so different from what yo expected kissing him would be life, it’s not rough or biting, it’s almost heartachingly soft in how he pulls you close and touches his lips to yours again and again.

“He’s just so hard to read sometimes, you know? Like…I don’t mean to get too personal considering we just met but,” Tess’s voice carries from a room downstairs, the one you had been given the night before, the one you hadn’t been able to lay in and remain for the entirety of it. She had ducked into it with Frank after breakfast shared at the dining room table. While the eggs had been powdered, the meet hadn’t been and the taste lingers, mingled with that of Joel.

“You can talk to me about anything, the same sentiment for Cane applies to you. We all need friends these days, people we can turn to.” Frank’s comforting voice is genuine as you step closer to the open door without trying to alert them of your presence. Tess hardly opened up about herself, let along about the dynamic between her and Joel. All you ever got out of Tommy was that they were bonded in a way that he understood, shared losses, shared pasts. They would and have killed for each other.

“Well, I’m not quite sure what’s going on, relationships were hard enough before and now…”

“It’s hard for men like Bill and Joel to be honest with what they want, to let their guard down in different settings. You shouldn’t fault yourself if he was too on edge to be with you last night.”

“It’s not that exactly. It was more like he implied he was done with that entire part of…whatever we are.”

“Maybe he’s going through something he hasn’t told you about. He seems like a pretty private guy even if he does have someone like you to talk to and in his life.” Mind reeling, you recall the way Joel had spoken to you the other night. The implication of his words, of his wants, of who exactly he had his eyes on. And then this morning when he had all but rolled over to show you his willingness to give you credit and praise your work.

‘Don’t want Tess.’

‘Mutual relief.’

‘Then clear my head, be a good little lap dog for me.’

Your blood boils, bubbles thick in your veins despite the rather calm and sensual acts you had just shared with the man in question. The worry of him moving on from the woman at his side to yours, where there is more opportunity, more to be gained, more power to be had with the smuggling scene. It’s hard to read him, whether he is truly making a play, a switch. The idea that he is losing interest in Tess in favor or you too big a notion for there to not be anything else woven into the desire. Men tended to seek out those younger than them, though you didn’t think that was the only matter in this case. The thought sticks to the inside of your throat like fuzz, drying it up and making you clear your throat loudly as you approach the doorway head on. You’re determined to undermine it, should that be the reasoning behind his recent behavior.

“Frankie?” You finally step toward the doorway, brushing your hands down over the clean shirt to try and calm your nerves.

“Yes, darling?”

“Could I use your radio, there’s a call I need to make. To set up a smooth return to the zone for us.” You nod to Tess, who doesn’t meet your eyes. As Frank stands from where he was seated on the bed, he brushes a hand over your shoulder. He’s reaching for another box from the top of the closet, the shelf too high for you but easy enough for him. The box is labeled with your name, the real one and he takes a marker from his back pocket and crosses it out. Cane replaces it in that same, simple writing he’s adapted.

“Of course, I’m looking for something, but Bill can help you out.” Frank smiles at you, saying he’ll make sure to send an outfit back with all three of you, worried for the very real act of both Joel and Tess scrounging for their nicest pieces of clothing for the visit. First impressions still meant so much and sometimes it meant the difference between life and death these days. He was a good man, and you’re determined to ensure you can continue to find things he may need use of and build up your stocks should you need to trade for something far more valuable and harder to come by. He was a priority now.

One thing was for certain, you were done allowing Joel Miller to think he had more power than he did.

An asset.

It rings through your mind as you recall the way he approached you in the shower. In the touches burned into your skin, in the way his body moved against your own. He had been there, with you, after telling Tess no. That he didn’t want for the physical any longer with her and it’s dizzying. Trepidation simmers low in your abdomen, upsetting it as it twists the muscles and pulls them taut before they tremble. Akin to the pang of hunger but much, much stronger.

It was your zone, your connections, your reputation that allowed for the smuggling and scavenging to bloom opportunity and trade. You had worked up from literally nothing, having been forced into the zone under false pretenses. The network established by you and your brother after some time, scooped up by the jaws of another hungry dog searching for the next meal to feast on. Only this one wasn’t a simple meal that would fill your belly for a night, it was one that would bring meals day after day and you were done sharing it. Done feeling like an afterthought to the man who was Tess’s counterpart.

The radio is far more advanced than the one set up in the zone, the one that Abe was lucky enough to set up outdated and one of the more military focused models. The soldiers knew he had it, it was hard no to squash the thin string of hope it allowed for all the occupants to stoke as they tried to search for loved ones and family even so long after that first horrific day and all the others that followed.

Bill walked you through how to navigate the signal waves, how to tune it just right to get the ones wafting weakly from direction of the zone. He was still on guard, the gun holstered at his side and his gauging eyes still present. But you felt at ease with him, he was an extension of Frank. He was a good man, that much you were sure of, that much you knew. Frank would be well protected and provided for here, allowed a space to cling to the good parts of who he is. He wouldn’t have lasted in the zone, let alone the pretenses in which you had found yourself able to enter the zone.

“Echo 4236, do you copy?”

“Copy for Echo 4236. Rely your message.”

“This is Ammo 1342, I have an order for you.”

“Ready to receive order, proceed.”

“I need you to hit Building 42, Apartment 19 and 20.”

“Ammo 1342, isn’t apartment 20-“

“It is, proceed. Stash the contents in Building 56, Apartment 14.”

“Copy that Ammo 1342.”

“Echo 4236 signing off.”

Bill is watching you closely, one brow arched as he takes in the smirk on your lips.

“Working together means you guys contact Tess, heed her wills to trade.”

“So, you’re allowing them to think this is still the fruits of her labor.”

“For now. When the time comes, I’ll cut them out and let them be in charge of this trade and only this trade.”

"Just be careful." The sentiment behind his words is not lost on you.

“Before you go,” Frank is guiding you by the shoulders toward the front room the second you visible coming up from the steps of the sub-basement. Bill following behind at a slower pace, content to let Frank do as he wished, the barely contained excitement and sly smile on his lips telling the other man he was happy. The piano comes into view, set up already, dusted off and smelling of lemon oil cleaner.

“Frankie, no.” You don’t even give the man a chance to say anything, the book of sheet music open and waiting.

“Cane, please. It’s been so long since I’ve heard it done justice. Bill does his best, but…too low a tone for the song. This’ll be the last thing I ask of you to recall from our past and if you truly don’t want to, I’ll concede.” As he speaks, the others are walking into the room. Bill, followed by a curious Tess and tense Joel. The word ‘no’ in your voice summoning him where he had been on the back porch with Tess talking over the most likely items to get on the list Frank had written up.

You looked from the piano to him, trepidation obvious, as if the piano were a coiled snake waiting for you to step closer to strike you down. But he looked so soft, so much like the man you remember sitting and painting with for hours in a comfortable silence, the one who had always allowed you the room to create how you wanted.

“Just this once.”

The wooden seat is firm beneath you, and you roll your shoulders a few times, cracking your knuckles to loosen your body up. Taking a deep breath, you glance up from where your hands are hovering over the keys to the music written out. You don’t need it, of course, it was Frank’s favorite song. One you had sung to him at every opening hour of a show in the gallery. The first few pushes of the keys feel unfamiliar, but muscle memory takes over quickly and you’re licking at your bottom lip before parting them.

“Love will abide, take things in stride,” Your voice is smooth and soft, growing emotive and soulful, as it fills the silence of the room and intertwines with the notes of the piano. A hint of twang in your tone as the lyrics pull it from deep inside you, where you buried it long ago. You close your eyes, feeling the sting of tears as the last seven years flash in your mind.

“Sounds like good advice,” You belt out, pitching your voice around the words, allowing for them to surge and swell. “But there’s no one at my side. Cause I’ve done everything I know to try and make you mine. And I think I’m gonna love you for a long, long time.”

You don’t dare to turn around and glimpse the expressions on everyone’s faces, the song filling you up with something you had long forgotten. Your voice carries through the second verse, the third, and then the last cords of the song are echoing in the air as you lift your fingers from the keys. The final note wavering off and silence reclaims the room.

It’s the last thing before you all make your way outside, the sun bright and the breeze cool. Bill is walking alongside Joel, Tess up ahead with Frank. You linger, eyeing the canvas and paint accumulated in boxes around the porch. An agreement made between to the two men who reside here. One giving into the other’s indulgences in only the way a loved one does for their affections.

Rationale and reason for keeping such things for better uses, a means of survival should it come to that lost in the wake of making someone happy.

“Cane, I’m- I’m just so glad that you’re okay.” Frank is suddenly pulling you into an embrace, his hands cradling the back of your head as you instantly return it. His chest is warm where you bury your face into his shirt, just feeling him for a moment, basking in the touch of another you once spent so much time with. “Please, don’t be a stranger. I may not be able to come to you, but you come to me or radio should you need anything.”

“I’m happy you’ve found your person, found a little slice of what life used to be here. The zones, they aren’t, they aren’t a way to live.” As you pull back from him, you see the question in the depths of his eyes, obviously in the way he smiles sadly at you. He wants to ask you to stay and you almost want him to.

Your trio departs with a plan to contact in a week’s time, to set up the first trade of many.

It was obvious that your order had been followed through the second your trio had entered turned from the stairwell to the hallway. The doors leading into both yours and their apartment hang on their hinges, the wood splintered slightly as they wight down the remaining nails keeping them upright.

The second story just high enough to not give any clues away from the view of the windows on the streets. You had made sure to not include your signature of a paw print, not wanting to stir up trouble before felt the need to. The same one you had Tess and Joel stamp onto their portions of goods, always beneath the foil for cigarettes or the plastic bags of pills. Especially on the butts of guns save for the ones you all carried yourselves.

“Fuck, looks like we got hit!” Tess is caught off guard, rushing forward until Joel stops here with a forearm and a small shake of his head. He moves up ahead of you both, the gun tucked into the back of his waistband sliding into his palm as he pushes aside what remains of the doors to the two apartments you occupy.

“They got everything we had stashed away.” His voice is a low rumble, anger and frustration filling the picked over and damaged apartment. He’s already cleared it as you and Tess approach, moving onto yours to clear it as well.

“This is because you showed weakness by working in that whore house!” Joel roars, dark glare focused on you as he appears back in the hallway. A shove of his gun barrel against your shoulder raises your lips in a snarl of argument.

“What I do in my spare time has no effect on the business!”

“It does it people think you’re weak, submitting to them!” He digs the gun into your shoulder again, to punctuate his words.

“Then everyone would be going after you, with how obvious it is you drown yourself in pills and booze until you pass out every god damn night!” You smack the weapon away from you with enough force that he doesn’t do it again, instead it’s hidden back in his waistband. He’s anything but calm as he shouts back at you, no doubt the entire population of the hall is listening against their closed doors.

“That has nothing to do with anything!”

“Then neither does my sparse visits to work somewhere that actually puts food on the table! The people we trade with don’t go there.” You step up into his personal space, the tension in the air thick and so unlike the last time you had done so. His eyes narrow, the brown of then shielded by the darkness of his pupils and the dim hall. The lights have been needing to be replaced for ages, your men following orders taking out the few that had remained working to make the scene.

“If they don’t, then the people that work for them do and tell them.” He doesn’t back down, his chest nearly brushing yours as he breaths in deep.

“Alright, why don’t- why don’t we all just take a breath. We had a good past couple of days, we can’t let this bring us down.” Tess is suddenly between you both, a hand on each of you to further push you apart. But you’re done. Tired and feeling too much after seeing someone who you never thought you would again mentally draining. You’re stepping around them both, their eyes heavy as they watch you walk over to your door.

“Oh, I’m not down about anything. Shit happens. Sometime tried to clean me out the second I took over the zone, it’s part of the game.” With that, you manage to shut the door as best you could.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, was wondering if somebody finally put you down?” The hair on the back of your neck rises as your skin prickles. You knew someone had been following you but you hadn’t expected it to be the man you last laid with the day Joel had caught you nearly two weeks ago. He was never one for conflict or conversation, but today he seemed willing to partake in both.

“Not that I owe you an answer, but I was busy.” Your eyes trace the way he reveals himself from the stooped doorway, the building is abandoned and boarded up. Deemed toxic due to the damage of fumes from the bombing that is evident just outside the walls.

This part of the zone is dilapidated, most of the buildings had been homes or independently owned and run businesses, but now it was the slums. The pleasure house is only a street away but that hadn’t been your intention of coming down here. It had been to retrieve some of the goods ‘stolen’ from you, stashed in an old building very few knew operated as a base for soldiers to reside in for their drug fueled days off from patrol.

“Feel like you owe me a freebie.” He’s bold to step in front of you in that moment, the street empty at the hour that closes the day in the zone.

“Not on your life.” Sidestepping him, you don’t expect him to reach out. He’s strong, his hands clasping in front of you as his front presses against your back. He’s overly hot, the scent coming from his clothes rotten and you thrash in his hold.

“Get her gun!” He’s shouting and you realize he’s not alone. There are four others now surrounding you, having slunk out of the shadows and alleyways. Someone makes a grab for it, where it’s holstered on your hip beneath your shirt. The fingers that graze your stomach are marred with ash and dirt, something you hope isn’t smeared into your skin. The man isn’t very focused, his eyes dipping to catch the flash of skin as he does so and you kick out at his hand.

The gun is knocked away from you the second it hits the broken asphalt of the street, the only weapon left on you is the knife tucked into your boot. But your thoughts are scrambled as your sense of gravity wavers, body suddenly pulled forward. Your forehead knocks into the ground, and you groan out at the feeling of rubble digging deep into the skin there.

“You fuckers!” You shout, hands reaching for the concealed blade as you feel a body pin you down. You don’t manage much as they’re suddenly held down, as are your legs. The feeling of the man above you and four more holding you down kicks your instincts into overdrive.

Surging up as best you can, you knock your head back as hard as possible. The crack of it hitting the man’s face is loud as is his cry of pain. He’s knocked off balance and into the two men holding your legs down.

Careening forward, you bite into the hand of the person putting their weight on your hands, teeth digging and tearing as he tries to pull away with a scream. He’s down and cradling his mutilated hand as you stand and brandish the knife you’ve finally got in your grip. Spitting, chunks of bloodies flesh spray onto the ground and you wipe the back of your free hand over your mouth, only managing to smear the blood further.

It slices into the skin of forearms and cheeks as the three men try to get you pinned back down and under their control with their ringleader tries to stall the bleeding of his broken nose and the whitening of his vision.

The man whose hand you bit reaches for the gun and he fires a shot that has everyone ducking. His aim had failed to help his friends but worked to your advantage as one of the men cries out at the bullet now lodged in his shoulder. The scene freezes, everyone completely caught off guard and you take the moment.

You’re reaching for the gun as he sits shocked and still, the metal rattling from how badly he’s shaking. Quickly forcing it from him and aiming it point blank, he’s slumped over and no longer breathing as you round on the others and fire three more shots.

The man who started all this is pleading, snot and tears running along with blood down his face. He’s spouting nonsense words of apology and to please spare him, that he’s learned his place and he won’t ever try to corner you again. But you don’t care. This man, this piece of nothing man had tried to track you down, to take from you, to assault you, to demean you. The knife in your hand sings for more blood but you’re shooting at him where he stands hunched over and holding a hand over his face.

He falls, hands flying to where his thighs meet his body as he whimpers. The pain of being shot in the groin too intense for him to muster up a scream. You feel a twitch of your lips as you watch him writhe and moan about on the ground, surrounded by the other men. But it’s not enough to soothe you and you’re bringing the knife down harshly as he reaches out to you for help he would never receive. His fingers scatter, and you feel the ease of your anger.

“Don’t come at me again or I’ll take your life too.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Telling them to make payments to you but I still have to go and deliver the goods? Do you have any idea what that makes me look like?” Joel’s voice is loud as his door creaks open, not completely repaired but enough to work for the time being. Something about him needing to find a certain type of glue for wood before he would complete the task.

“Excuse me?” If the blood staining your clothing or the tangled mess of your loosened hair catches his eye he doesn’t show it. Not even the cut above your brow or the stain of blood around your mouth and chin gives him pause and you realize he’s drunk from that and the loosely coordinated way he approaches you.

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to but now is so not the time, Miller.” You warn, adrenaline still coursing through your body and making you shift on your feet to face him. His steps are loud, the effects of whatever he took showing.

“You listen to me, you little-“

You use the arm he reaches out to grab at you and haul him over your shoulder. The breath in his lungs wooshes out at the contact of his back hitting the floor hard. Before he even has the chance to realize he’s been downed, you’re straddling his stomach and holding the still bloody knife to his throat. He’s more aware of himself as you meet his eyes, the pressure of the blade sobering him up almost instantly.

“You wanna see how I left him, you wanna see what I looked like putting the last fucker down that dared to come after me. Dared to put his hands on me when I said no. Bleeding in the street without his fingers or his dick?” The thump of the man’s detached fingers onto his chest pull his eyes down and away from your own. They widen slightly at the sight of them, the white of the bones you severed stark in the fixed light of the hall. “Try me, Miller, try me and find the fuck out.”

He’s silent, eyes wide and mouth clamped shut. Chest heaving as he takes in the way you’re completely serious and focused on him. The knee you’re digging into his crotch painful for the force behind it and you see fear flash in his eyes. You take it in stride, feeling far more powerful than you had in months.

“That’s what I thought, go sleep off the pills you downed and report back to me tomorrow with payment or replacement.” He grunts as you shove off of him, his body stinging where yours had been on him, his neck feels cool where a few drops of blood form on the shallow cut where the knife had been.

The door shuts behind you, lock clicking in place. He stays there on the ground, heart beating wildly in his chest and his eyes take in the cut off extremities you had thrown at him where they had slid to the floor of the hall. His stomach lurches at the thought of the other one you had mentioned and he’s surging up to empty his stomach onto the faded and worn carpet.

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@survivingandenduring *shoutout to @the-mandawhor1an for beta reading and @joelmillerisapunk for letting me scream with them while this chapter got finished and edited, thank you so much bbs!

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axelsagewrites · 1 year

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Daemon Targaryen*The Restaurant

Sugar Baby Series Part one of five, next parts linked at bottom

Pairing: Modern!Daemon x reader

Platonic: Cregan Stark, Sara Snow, Jace Velaryon

Summary: After a horrible night at work the reader finally gets some good news

Warnings: bitchy customers

Word count: 2370

Masterlist Here

Moving out was one of the best decisions you had made. Moving in with your best friend Sara Snow gave you the freedom you always craved but with one slight problem; being alive is fucking expensive.

Being a server was not as easy as many seemed to believe. You worked at the Dragons Den as a server which was the most exclusive restaurant in Kingslanding. Even to work there you needed connections.

Luckily for you Sara had managed to get a job as a host through her friend Jace, who is admittedly still denying his major crush on her, and lucky for you both the grandson of its owner, Rhaenys Velaryon. When a server position opened, she instantly referred you and Rhaenys, who interviews all her staff personally, seemed to take a liking to a girl trying to be independent.

You'd think working in a fancy place would mean the guests would have more decorum. However, you would be very wrong. It was as if rich people got off on causing problems for the staff. Dealing with their ridiculous requests was one thing but what was worse was when the Hightower’s came in. They seemed to get off on the fact they knew the owners, despite Rhaenys not really caring about their existence but not wanting to restart another family drama. Alicent always sent her food back at least twice while Otto constantly tried to wiggle down the bill despite constantly trying to flex his watch or car or whatever else you pretended to care about.

When you walked in the restaurant tonight the sorry look Sara gave you from the host stand made you internally groan. "Is it seriously my turn again?" you asked her as you clocked in at the tablet at the host stand.

"Aly had them last time and Cregan is one write up from being fired and I cannot risk that," you loved Sara's half-brother, you really did, but if he skipped his turn one more time you were ready to fight him in all his 6ft jacked glory. "C’mon do it for me," Sara said, batting her eyelashes dramatically at you.

"Ugh fine," you groaned as you tied your hair up, the lobby currently empty thankfully, "How many of them and when?"

"4 of them at 6.30," Sara grinned at you as you finished getting ready and putting your apron on, "Not sure who's coming with them, but it was made under Alicent so only one way to find out,"

The beginning of your shift was normal, peaceful even. Your first three tables had all left a 25% tip, so you were already perky to say the least. That was until you watched Sara walk your worst customers over. Alicent had brought her husband, for once, as well as her stepdaughter of the same age. Rhaenyra had always been lovely to you, but it was rare for her to come at the same time as Alicent. However, what really caught you off guard was the newest silver haired man.

You knew practically all the customers by name from the sheer amount of gossip you got from Sara who seemed to know everything about everyone. However, you had never seen him before, but your eyes were locked on him as he slinked across the restaurant, his lilac eyes scanning the room. Definitely a Targaryen you thought. You were knocked out your thoughts when you accidentally met his eye and turned away quickly, pretending to look for menus as you disguised your blush.

“He’s smirking btw,” Cregan chuckled at you from beside you at the server station and you quickly hit him with a menu before turning to go to your demise.

"Hi, my names (Y/N) and I'll be your server tonight," you greeted as you placed down the menus. "Can I get any of you started with drinks before I leave you to look over the menu?"

"Could I have-" Rhaenyra had started but was cut off by Alicent who finally looked up from her phone.

“This tables dirty,”

The fun begins. “I can move you to another- “

“No this will do,” she cut you off, “took that long to be seated in the first place,” you saw how Rhaenyra shrunk in her chair and how Viserys refused to meet your eye, “Water for the table, lemon, a whole lemon sliced not just two silly little slices,”

“Of course, ma’am,” you said, pretending to jot down the nonsense she always sprouted.

The only one not sulking or avoiding your gaze was the mystery man who was glaring at the oblivious bitch, “I’ll have the salmon, whole potatoes not mashed, peas not green beans, extra sauce but hold the lemon on the fish,” she said her words quicker than the speed of light but luckily the kitchen had pinned her ridiculous order to the board so you just scrawled ‘that bitch’ on the note pad which had become the code for her. “He’ll have the duck, hold the sauce,”

“But I like the sauce,” Viserys finally piped up however quickly looked away like a scorned child.

“It’s bad for you heart,” she glared at him before turning back to you, “Well aren’t you gonna ask them what they want?” she said gesturing to the embarrassed Rhaenyra.

You nodded and turned to her as she gave you her order with an apologetic smile. Finally, you turned to the mystery man, finally getting to have a good look at his perfectly sculped cheek bones and that intoxicating smirk he wore, “I’ll have the alfredo; however, it comes,” he said, shooting Alicent a smile when he ordered. “Thanks, dear,” when he looked back at you, you struggled not to blush as you wrote the order.

“Okay guys I’ll be right back with your- “

“Why don’t we have any water?” Alicent cut you off and it took everything in you not to force feed her your notepad.

Forcing a smile onto your face, “I’m just about to get it- “

“Okay then,” she rolled her eyes and turned back to her phone.

As you turned to leave you heard the man speak again, “She’s not a magician you know?” the man’s voice said but you had no time to eavesdrop as you had to rush about to do the hundred other jobs your manager demanded you to.

Aemond used to be a cool guy, even if at times up tight, when he was just a bartender. However, when he got promoted to manager through total skill, totally not complete nepotism, a stick got shoved so far up his ass he was now able to taste it. “Quick steps, quick cheques,” he quipped as you rushed past, sweat practically dripping down your forehead with your now full section.

The dinner rush was hitting hard tonight and even Cregan, the phone addict he was, hadn’t checked his phone in the past couple of hours. However, he had managed to tell you as you grabbed food from the pass that the man at your table was Daemon Targaryen and he had just relocated back to Kingslanding after running the Targaryen headquarters in Riverrun. You weren’t exactly sure what it was the Targaryen did, something money related or maybe tax, but whatever it was it made them the richest family in Kingslanding, something Alicent and her father were quick to gloat about.

The rush seemed to give you the superpower to carry all four of the desserts at once to your most demanding table. “Who had the cherry tart and ice cream?” you asked, desperately trying to not crumple from exhaustion.

“Not shocked you don’t remember considering it’s been 20 minutes,” Alicent grumbled.

Tears threatened to prick your eyes, but you refused to give her the satisfaction, “Sorry the kitchens backed up tonight- “

“I don’t need your excuses,” she cut you off.

You took a deep breath before asking again, “The cherry tart?” you asked, your arm starting to waver.

“That’s mine,” Rhaenyra said, and you sighed in relief as you sat it down.

Then the same thing happened with the chocolate cake which Viserys refused to claim till your third ask. “Cheesecake?” you said for the third time.

“That’s hers,” Daemon snapped as he took the plate out of your hand and thrust it in front of Alicent who was blissfully unaware on her phone. “Then that’s mine, sorry bout that love,” Daemon said as he took his plate out your hand.

“Its alright sir,” you said, desperately trying to stay composed. “Enjoy,” you said before rushing off, picking up a check from a table that had just left and heading to the server stand to press it into the computer.

When you opened the check your eyes screwed shut, tears seconds from falling as you punched in the tip. $12 on a check of $198. You rushed to press the numbers before practically running into the kitchen.

Cregan was leaning in the corner, practically inhaling some stolen fries when he looked up to see tears falling from your eyes, “What’s up?” he asked as he rushed over to you, fries in hand, “Fry?” he asked holding out the plate.

“12 bucks on nearly 200,” you spat, shoving the salty fries in your mouth, “I’m barely gonna break even by the time I tip out tonight my first tables were great but everyone’s being so cheap tonight,”

“Time to lean- “you heard a smug voice perk up from behind you. your eyes screwed up as you tried not to swing on Aemond as he spoke, “-time to clean. Don’t you have a table?” Aemond said as he went to stand beside Cregan when his face fell, “Are you okay?” he asked, his managerial face finally falling.

“Just fucking peachy,” you spat as you grabbed another fry before rushing out of the kitchen leaving the cooks to yell at the new manager in your leave.

You had two tables left: an old couple and the Targaryen’s. The old couple left you thirty on 180 which while not great was better than twelve bucks however at least they didn’t bark orders at you all night. As you waited for Alicent to wave you over you debated whether this job was worth it all. The clicking across the restaurant made you lean over to the not worth it side, but you weren’t quite ready to quit yet, rent was due tomorrow and who knows maybe Daemon was a generous tipper and would get the bill.

When you dropped the cheque at their table your stomach dropped when you saw Alicent throw it at Viserys. When you went to punch it in you genuinely considered how much you could withdraw from the ATM before he caught you. $9.21 on a $289.79 tab.

“Night folks,” you smiled as you dropped the check back, Aemond watching you from the kitchen window.

“Did you get your tip?” Viserys asked as he slipped the card back in his pocket.

How much jail time would you get for slapping a millionaire, you wondered. “Yes. Thanks sir,” you said with your fakest smile which oddly seemed to leave him satisfied before you rushed off.

“Can I go?” you asked Aemond through the kitchen window. He tried to stutter out a no but when he saw your eyes water he finally agreed, and you rushed to clock out and thrust money into the tip out jar. You were left with a whole $20 bucks from that 10-hour shift. Plus, your hourly wages which were honestly just laughable despite how high end this place was.

Sara tried to ask how it had gone but you brushed her off as you grabbed your jacket from the coat check and practically ran for the door when you saw the Targaryen’s approaching. The air was cold against your skin, your cheap jacket doing little for you as winter approached. You walked a few paces down from the restaurant to the bus stop and crouched down, leaning against the wall to catch your breath waiting for the bus which was always late.

There was no one around to see your tears fall so you let them. After all they were the only warm thing around. When you heard footsteps, you quickly whipped them off your cheeks and stood up, not about to get mugged as well as this night went. “What did he tip you?” your head whipped round to meet the sorry eyes of Daemon Targaryen.

“Its alright,” you tried to say but he insisted, stepping closer. You looked up at him, his face perfectly lit by the moon and streetlamps, “9 bucks,” you half laughed, your eyes rolling as you turned away. “It doesn’t matter. Some nights are just shit,”

You heard him ruffling in his pockets but didn’t turn around. Being murdered by a millionaire might be fun you thought. “Here,” you turned round at his voice, but he was already pressing the money into your hand. “You don’t deserve this shit,” he said, his hand still holding yours, “Get out you still will,”

“There’s nothing else for me to do,” you said, keeping your hand in his larger one. If not for your tears this might have been a cute moment.

“I doubt that doll,” he said before looking up the street, “That your bus?” he asked, and you nodded. “Get home safe love. And keep that to yourself alright?” he said, and you nodded as you slipped the cash into your pocket without counting.

“See you around?” you asked as the bus pulled up.

“Definitely,” he nodded before turning to where a sleek black car began honking at him, “Gotta goes love. Night,”

“Night,” you said despite him already being away. you quickly got on the bus, paying from your lousy tip money before taking a seat up the back of the bus.

You quietly took out the money from your pocket to count it, your eyes scanning the bus to make sure no one had moved to sit further up the bus as you counted, “Holy shit,” you whispered under your breath as you counted the bills. 3-hundred-dollar bills and a slip of paper with a number on the back.

Call me when you quit – D.T.

Part two here - Part three here

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila

#modern daemon targeyen #hotd daemon #daemon au #daemon targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon headcanon #hotd headcanon #house of the dragon headcannons #modern house of the dragon #modern hotd headcannon #hotd hc #house of the dragon preference #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targeryan

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madaqueue · 5 months

Text

Dripping in Gold | Chapter 4

synopsis: finding a job was never easy, and why even bother trying after you meet satoru gojo, a man with mysterious and exorbitant wealth, who wants nothing more than to spoil you with it? the only caveat to your little arrangement is that it can never, ever, become personal.

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader [toji fushiguro x f!reader]

themes/content: non-curse modern au, sugar daddy gojo. language, fluff, angst. kissing. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.2k

a/n: toji jumpscare!

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

The feeling floats around in your mind as you process the implications. Gojo didn’t pay you, and you didn’t care. No, that can’t be right, because then it would mean that you were just seeing him because you…what? Like spending time with him? Have feelings for him? Fuck no.

You told yourself - and he told you - that this was just casual. This was just a way for you to make some money while you look for a job, nothing more.

But then why do you get butterflies when you see him? Why do you find yourself laughing with him like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever done? Why do you count down the hours until you can see him each week?

You toss your phone across the room, landing on your bed as you stand up and pace around your apartment, trying to regain some semblance of control over your emotions. Okay, sure, seeing him is nice and all, but you could live without him if you needed to, right? The question suddenly sends a pang of dread through your stomach at the idea of not getting to be with him.

Shit.

So maybe you do like to be around him, but it’s just because of the sex, right? Against your will, images of your dates flash through your mind - the two of you sitting across from each other as he teases you for not knowing how to use chopsticks, or you wiping whipped cream off his nose after he got a bit too excited about the cake you ordered to share, or the way his arms would wrap around your waist, pulling you into a hug the moment he sees you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Shit, shit, shit.

It’s okay, they’re just feelings, and you can ignore them, right? You’re strong, in control, and-

Your thoughts get cut short as you hear your phone buzz, lunging to grab it just in case it might be Gojo.

When you see his name lighting up the screen you feel your cheeks blush in excitement. Your thumb moves to answer before you have a chance to think about the way your body reacted to him calling.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he purrs, his voice low over the phone.

“Hi, Satoru,” you hum, trying to ignore how giddy you are to talk to him.

“I know I just saw you yesterday, but I just can’t seem to remember what your voice sounded like when you were moaning my name. Any chance you’d be free to refresh my memory?” he flirts.

You chuckle at his cheesy attempt at a pickup line. “I am free, but you really have to start working on those lines, that was one of your worst ones yet.”

“Mmm, I dunno, they can’t possibly be that bad if they keep working,” he taunts, and you can hear his smile through the phone. “I’ll be over in 15 minutes, don’t worry about changing or anything, you know how much I love you in those pajamas of yours.”

“Okay, ‘Toru,” you laugh softly, “See you soon.”

He hangs up and you lay back onto your bed, your heart feeling like it’s about to beat out of your chest, a mix of nervousness and excitement building inside you. It wasn’t typical to get to see him twice in one week, especially back to back like this, and you still aren’t sure what to do about your possible feelings for him.

Should you tell him? You have to, right? The worst he can say is no. Sighing, you gather your thoughts.

With a new resolution, you decide you are going to tell him. Besides, it’s honestly not that hard to believe he feels the same - the way he treats you, the way he looks at you, the way he fucks you, everything about him is so soft and tender, full of adoration and kindness. Nobody just acts like that with someone they don’t care about - right?

–

Punctual as ever, you meet him downstairs exactly 15 minutes later. As you step outside of your apartment complex, the cold morning air hits your skin through the t-shirt and shorts you slept in. Looking down, you smile, realizing it’s actually Gojo’s t-shirt that currently adorns your body.

Walking towards his car, he gets out to greet you, pulling you into the warmth of his body. The scent of his cologne hangs on his sweater as you wrap your arms around him. Placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head, he shifts his gaze down to your lips before pressing his against yours as you reach up on your toes to lean into him.

“It’s good to see you,” he whispers, pulling away for a moment to rest his forehead against yours, a sweet grin on his face.

Truthfully, he always feels like he’s smiling when he’s around you - how could he not? Everything about you brings him more joy than he’s felt in his life up to this point: your laugh, the way you tease him back when he’s being an idiot, how you treat him with a kindness he’s never known before you. He adores you so much it sometimes feels like his heart might burst, especially when he gets to see you like this. Of course he loves when you get all dressed up to go out with him - especially when he gets to see you after a date, hair messy, mascara running, legs shaking after he fucks you - but this is his favorite version of you as you stand in your pajamas, tiredness still slightly evident in your eyes, with a warm casualness he never knew he craved until you.

You pull him out of his thoughts with a whisper of his name. “Before we go anywhere, I-I need to tell you something,” you follow, voice wavering.

“Of course, anything sweetheart,” he responds softly, trying to comfort you - he’s not sure what has you nervous, but he can sense it in the way you shift in his arms.

Breaking eye contact with him, you take in a breath, trying to steady yourself under the weight of your confession. “I…I think I want more.”

“More money? Absolutely princess, name your price,” he follows immediately, raising a hand up to stroke your cheek. You are worth everything to him, and he’ll give it all if it means he gets to keep seeing you.

“No, Satoru, I mean…” you trail off, shaking your head, gaze still glued to the ground, “I mean more from us. I don’t want you to pay me anymore, I just want you.”

Gojo feels like the wind just got knocked out of him, he can’t breathe as your words cloud his mind. “W-what?” he stutters.

“I have feelings for you,” you state, finally bringing your eyes up to meet his. You feel nervous tears building along your lashes as you desperately try to steady your breathing, waiting for his answer.

In a moment, you watch emotion flash across his face - his eyebrows furrow and raise, a frown tugging at the corner of his mouth, eyes suddenly glassy as he struggles to keep them focused on you. He takes in a shaky breath, the only word leaving his mouth a soft, “Oh.”

Fuck. There it is. He doesn’t feel the same. You knew it, you knew he was too good to be true, you knew he would never care about you the way you care about him. You were so fucking stupid for letting yourself think this could be anything more; it’s your fault for forgetting what this whole arrangement was supposed to be. He told you it was casual, and you tried to change the rules. It’s all your fault. Fuck.

“I-” he stammers, trying to comfort you as he can see sadness building on your face. “I’m sorry. But you know that’s not how this works, sweetheart,” he whispers, afraid that if he raises his voice any louder it would crack from heartache. A tragic smile forms on his lips as he realizes that he’s about to lose the one thing he wants most.

As silence settles between you, the tears welling in your eyes start to slowly spill out. His thumb instinctively reaches out to wipe them away before you look down, brushing his hand away.

“Y-you’re right, I’m sorry, it was stupid,” you manage to softly choke out, breaking out of his grasp. “I-I have to go, sorry,” you turn around with your head down, trying to hide the tears spilling down your face.

Satoru freezes in shock as you run back into your apartment building. He wants to yell, beg, scream, cry, anything to make you turn around and come back into his arms. He wants to tell you he’ll be yours for eternity, that he’ll pull the stars down from the sky if it means you’ll be his. But he can’t; all he can do is stand there and watch you leave him. A single tear falls from his eyes and hits the concrete beneath him before he walks back into his car, alone. Inside, he suddenly feels himself break down, cries racking his body. How could he be so stupid? How could he let you go?

–

Back in your apartment, you land on your bed as your body shakes through sobs. You knew it was a bad idea to tell him, you knew it, but you did it anyway - why? Why did you have to go and throw away the best thing you had? God, you feel so stupid. All you can do is curl up and cry, holding yourself the way you wish Satoru would hold you.

You know you can’t see him again, you can’t text him, you can’t call him. You messed this up, and you have to live with the consequences of it. You don’t even care about the money or the food or the clothes; all you care about is him. And now, he’s gone, because of you.

–

A few months go by as you let yourself mourn the loss of Gojo’s presence in your life. You slowly work your way through the money you had accumulated and take the time to try and heal your broken heart. Eventually, you know you’ll have to move on, but it takes everything in you to not cry whenever you see something that reminds you of him. You’ve had to move all of the clothes he got you into the back corner of your closet, hiding the jewelry he got you because it “matched your eyes.” Every memory with him becomes painful, and you struggle to go anywhere because every place reminds you of him.

Finally, after numerous pathetic months, you get a notification from your bank: your rent payment bounced. You’ve finally run out of Gojo’s generosity, and now you’re back in the exact same place you were when you started this whole thing, only more emotionally damaged.

When you were with him you paused your job search, not needing one with the excess wealth that seemed to follow him everywhere. After you stopped seeing him you gave up because you just didn’t have the energy or willpower to pretend to be happy for an hour-long interview. Now, the gravity of your poor decisions weighs on you, your chest heavy as you struggle to think of a solution.

As you lay in your bed, you pull out your laptop as the memories of how everything started flood back to you. Absentmindedly, your fingers type in the name of the same website that led you to Gojo all those months ago.

This is stupid, what am I even doing? you think to yourself as your screen once again fills with pictures of older men, this time with the notable lack of the white-haired one who originally caught your attention.

Scanning the page, your thoughts start turning in your mind. I mean, I do still need the money. And maybe it could help me get over him?

Your eyes land on a dark-haired man wearing a shirt that is clearly too tight for him. You scoff, Satoru would never wear something like that. Moving to close your laptop in defeat, the thought finally registers in your mind. Why are you still comparing everyone to Gojo?

A mix of anger at yourself and at him bubbles up inside you as you reopen your computer and click on the profile of the man you just mentally insulted. Looking closer, you notice a small scar marking the corner of his mouth as you scroll through his pictures until you find one of him shirtless.

Holy shit, he’s built.

Gojo was toned and everything, but you could still wrap your arms around him if you tried, whereas this guy looked like his arms were as thick as your torso, his chest covered in muscles. You almost find yourself drooling at him as you keep scrolling until you find his name.

Bio: “Toji. 37.”

It certainly gives you less to go off of than Gojo’s, but at least he doesn’t seem as bad as the other guys on the site. What the hell, you think as you type out a message.

You: Hi Toji ❤️

It’s simple, but hopefully your pictures are enough to get his attention. Almost immediately, a message pops up below yours.

Toji: $1000 if I’m fucking you in the next 30 minutes.

Well, at least he’s straightforward.

After a bit of back and forth to confirm his address, you grab your keys and walk out of your apartment to meet him.

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yueliie · 19 days

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hii y'all! so it has come to my attention...the existing of flufftober and I thought it's sounds pretty cool and challenging but I thought it's would be nice to challenge my hopeless romantic side to good use and reuse my old quote prompts that I made up, so here are the rules!

⭑.ᐟ 𝗥𝗨𝗟𝗘𝗦

1. NO requesting two prompts for yourself, only pick one prompt for one character!

As much as I love hearing ideas from y'all, I feel it's a bit cheating for other fans who also want to join in.

2. This is not a selfship event I'm saving these for my milestone events BUT the drabble will be dedicated to you, the requester.

Okie, hear me out, it will be obviously x reader still but the reader's personality & gender will be based off yours. There is only so much I can do with the mc's personality and I don't know my audience well enough to make predictions...so tell me about yourself from pronouns, interests, strengths, weaknesses to your perception of the character! you can even put nicknames they use for you, some ideas if you want and so on, I need that sugar man.

3. PLEASE be respectful, I do not want people to fight over each other.

listen...this is an event I put together for everyone to enjoy themselves and I always wants to doing a writing challenge from start to finish so please be kind for my sake?? TwT

4. MY moots will get a VIP treatment tho cuz I'm affectionately biased towards them-

I LOVE MY LITTLE CUTESY MOOTS YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND but this doesn't mean follower and non-follower can't join in! if moots' chosen prompt is taken by someone else and it's NOT your beloved, I will give them permission to have an extra slot just for their favourite. Remember this event is a writing challenge for me, might be late on the delivery if life kicked me in the butt but I'll definitely want to finish it though!

5. WIND BREAKER ONLY!! I'm reading the manga and I think I have too much energy for this series that it's overwhelming my other love (KnY), sorry!

I'M UNHINGED, EMOTIONAL UNSTABLE AND A LIL' STUPID RN BUT yeahhhh...they are holding me hostage, i can't leave until I'm drained-

DONE READING THE RULES? PLEASE PROCEED TO THE NEXT STEP... please be aware this event is a mix of holidays such as valentine's day, christmas (in Japan, it's all about LOVEEE), tanabata festival, white day and halloween. So please, you have my permission to go FERAL in my ask box :D send me an ask for your chosen quote prompt, your details, ideas and character!...MY ASK BOX IS OPEN FOR THIS EVENT UNTIL OCTOBER OR THIS IS FILLED UP (MOOTS DOESN'T COUNT, THEY ARE VIPS) !! PLEASE REBLOG AND SPREAD THE WORD!!

1. "Both you and your chocolate should belong to me only"

2. "...why a santa's helper outfit?"

3. "...make these only for me, everyday please?"

4. "The moon is beautiful, isn't it?"

5. "Before you go...can i kiss you?"

6. "I'll hold your hand until you fall asleep..."

7. "Call me a monster but I'm just a monster who wants your heart"

8. "I want to be the only one who can see your crying face..."

9. "Why are you so embarrassed about? I just want to remind you how much I love you"

10. "Don't move around so much when you're sick!"

11. "Do you want a hug?"

12. "Can we hold hands?"

13. "Hearing your heartbeat...a melody I will never forget"

14. "With you, I find a sense of belonging as if I'm always home"

15. "I don't know when to let you go"

16. "I don't care what we do, I just like spending time with you"

17. "I hate being so far away from you"

18. "I only accept gifts from the person I like"

19. "Thank you for loving me/being you"

20. "I can't stop thinking about you"

21. "It's your favourite snack, right?"

22. "I want to be with you forever"

23. "You really want to know how I feel?"

24. "You're way sweeter than any chocolate"

25. "...good morning kiss?"

26. "I love everything you make though"

27. "I lose my way, your hand guide me back to the right path"

28. "Holding your hand, you make me forget all my worries and the world around us"

29. "I want your gift to be the first one I get"

30. "How long are you going to stare when your lover is right in front of you?"

31. "Keep me warm tonight"

Tagging lovely people to boost this event (no pressure...!) : @kaq3yma , @littleplantfreak , @megutime , @iid-smile , @meidiary , @kajibunny , @the-original-skipps , @kaiser1ns , @sanemistar , @stunie !!

> MASTERLIST <

#!! ꒰ Yue's Flufftober ꒱ 🍭#writing challenge for me #my first event... please go easy on me

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astarionfixation · 6 months

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Chapter 4 - *Fu*k Eternity if Immortality Looks Like Me*

Part of "Am I Fu**ing Insane !?!" A multi chapter adventure in Astarion’s mind

Rating: Mature for Sex and CW Blood & Mentions of Death

Word count count: 3.6k

Pairings: Astarion X OFC Tav

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54356776/chapters/138056932

I have a quite serious praise kink. Which also means compliments in the forms of tags and/or comments might very well spur me to write and post more

** Thoughts "" Dialogue - - Remarks ++ Quotes / Memories

*I will never learn to take the sun for granted, ever*

The warmth on his skin makes almost anything tolerable, even the fact that she looks like an overexcited child on a sugar rush, skipping from one hedge to another, enthusiastic about the simple presence of plants, some of which she seems to have only seen in books. It would be charming really if he also had a chance to break his own -fast -. Not that she had much to eat: he had to force that cookie in her pocket for later though of course, when asked why he wouldn't touch food he only had to turn on the charm, with a delightful series of excuses as to why

"Breakfast? Oh, my dear, I find the company far more enticing than the food here. Why waste such precious moments with a plate when I can feast my eyes on you?”

And he knows that is way too melodramatic for her to still take on his empty flattery, but she still can’t help a smile and that makes him feel in charge of this… whatever this is… the fact that, for all she knows, they haven’t parted more than minutes since the previous night, and only when he had to keep the pretence that of course! She deserved her privacy whilst sinful droplets of water encompassed her body *and nothing else*.

“Let this finally be it darling, you’ve been dragging me through this greenery for hours now, whilst I can assure you I could have made both our afternoons so much more interesting”

She is too intent on examining the hundreth plant to even consider replying to his suggestive invitation *Pity*, but after a moment she speaks, still with a hint of the eagerness he has seen her show only when it comes to herb gathering so far.

*And the thought of me when she thinks no one’s watching*

“It’s not Mugwort, it’s Life Everlasting”

The last two words shake that part of his mind which was peeking at the surface, ready to get lost in sinful thoughts about her again

*What the !?!?!?*

Surely he heard wrong, or is she testing him? His puzzled look must give that away because she continues unprompted:

“Helichrysum is also known as Life Everlasting. It will be more than enough to prepare a tonic, there is little it won’t cure”

He swallows to gain composure even if he knows how still he has kept any and every part of his body to avoid giving anything away

“True to its name then…”

“Not quite… believe me I’ve tried.”

She continues to talk about the plant as if this truly is something she cannot help

“Decoctions, Tinctures… I would replace every single drop of blood in my body with it if it served the purpose, but the promise of its name has been greatly exaggerated”

The mention of blood reminds him painfully about his own dry throat at the same moment she sighs, her fingers keep tracing the woody stem of what seems like a pretty insignificant weed to him. Yet this is a conversation he feels concerningly drawn to, much like a moth to the flame, utterly conscious of the risk it poses and yet not remotely able to keep from prodding about it.

“Eternity then, is that what your heart truly desires?”

She nods absentmindedly, still tracing the plant with the tip of her fingers

“There are so many things that I'm set to miss”

A sigh leaves her lips and her tapered fingers halt their work on the stems of the plant.

“So many people, so many connections”

She continues, and he knows he could prod now, it would be easy to poke at her thinning barrier. In a half hearted tone he will testify in courts was meant as a joke he replies

“Is that why you asked me to stay with you last night, darling?”

And she should scoff, she should laugh, she should be led astray by where he meant to drive the conversation now, because this heavy air they have come to is not safe for discussing genuine thoughts and feelings.

When her dark eyes rise from the ground to find him she's almost… smiling? But it's resigned, and it doesn't reach her eyes, which are now fixed on him

“Believe it or not Astarion, I think I see something I know in you, and considering how slowly I'm decaying daily, I can't find it in me to be haughty and spare time I could instead spend with you for a time that neither of us might have in the future”

That is unexpectedly honest coming from the girl that stood in the light of the morning sun rays, clutching a shirt to her naked bosom as if it was the most innocent thing in the world, as if she didn’t mean all of that to be just a game to make both their resolve crumble.

“I would chance everyone shares in your predicament my darling, but you seem decidedly set on this, don't you?”

He is doing his best not to linger on the fact she’s perilously dancing on the edge of confessions way more complex than the desire she harbours for him, especially considering he should know nothing about it.

“I know what it feels like… to be just about to die”

And at that, he has to pull control from every fibre of his being not to flinch. Yet she inexorably continues, as if this had become a bloody confession.

“And ever since, time has been folding over and over in my mind, taking every joy away along with a ticking out I can't unhear. It’s all I’ve been searching, studying, looking for…”

He should be worrying, he should be aware that she might very well be tracing his thoughts just like her fingers traced the nape of his neck last night

*Surely to find a weak spot to plant a dagger!*

But he can sense the trembling in her voice, a mix of anger and fear that, despite coming from a different place than his, resembles his own feelings of complete and utter impotency at the fate imposed on him.

She shakes her head slightly and her eyes close while she inhales for a long moment, and he knows she’s trying to steady herself, confirming once again how crucial to her person this is. His mind scrambles back to the fragments of writings he found in her book that would speak of this, but he already knows his silly vanity let him scan only to find his own name committed to paper once he found the first instance, intoxicatingly tempted by discovering signs of her addiction to himself.

“But there isn’t anything… I looked” as the words leave her mouth, her gaze rises inquisitively to meet his, just as her tone ends to a slightly higher pitch.

*Is she… asking?*

Her eyes are steadily on his and he doesn’t have the time to let the silence linger on that unasked question, besides, it’s much more interesting to see what else he can persuade her to concede.

“Surely an eternal life would be valuable depending on its quality, don’t you think my darling? Otherwise you might just find yourself waking up to a nightmare that keeps repeating itself”

The moment the words leave his mouth he feels a tinge of anger directed at her because even to try and propel words from her he finds himself giving away much more than he ever planned to.

But she just smiles and shrugs, her eyes back to the little immortal plant

"Maybe I've had a comfortable and sheltered life so far, I wouldn't mind continuing it"

But he knows! He knows that’s far from true, even the little he gathered from her notes revealed unlikely similarities in the ways their choices, their bodies had become the belonging of others to play with, when praise after the beating became the only consolation she focused on, just as -many a night- he had to try and forget himself to keep going.

*Why lie now?*

“But truth is, the only immortality that awaits me is here”

Her fingers now touch the dirt at the base of the shrub, almost digging into it and a brief flash of his own fingernails bloody and covered in dirt comes to him from the night of his own first death.

“When I die, if I’m lucky, my body will be put at rest in the ground and all that awaits me is for it to decompose, feeding the next generation of plants and trees. I just wish I could accept that…”

“How morbid of you sweetling, even I have heard more legends and myths about longevity than that, surely even potential immortality, you didn’t strike me as the kind of person who would simply accept anything imposed on them”

“That’s the thing Astarion, as an elf you have dozens of my lifetimes awaiting in front of you, and whilst even that would eventually feel scarce to me, you are afforded that time. But I can’t… I can’t change what I am”

"Don't we all want to change? Be something other than ourselves for a time, to explore who we could really be?"

He will never get a chance as good as this one to poke and prod at the very real possibility that she might not recoil the moment she finds out about his true nature. And that's assuming she doesn't already know.

“What would you give for the chance to become an everlasting creature then?”

And he knows a vampire spawn like himself cannot turn her, but he suddenly sees how far their arrangement could go. Jumping ahead he can see how their interests could align and

*maybe this isn’t just the last in a series of curses laid upon me*.

Maybe she’s still so very proficient in controlling the way her emotions reflect on her face, but the traits remain placid as her fingers still absentmindedly roll the stem of the herb back and forth to the same rhythm that gives nothing away. Yet the pause was not long enough to suggest she had just come up with her answer there and then

“It would be shortsighted to give anything that I would still require to keep being the person who first needed eternity, but other than that, there’s little I wouldn’t give”

His head tilts slightly so that their eyes can meet again, because he needs to see every minuscule micro expression his next words will bring on her face

“What if all you could ever drink again was the life essence of creatures, their blood, and nothing else, but for eternity of course…”

He has barely a chance to see her eyes widen just ever so slightly, the rhythm of her breath suggesting that she’s about to answer and the fact that words would come so promptly should be a source of concern because *when would she have had time to think about that?!*...

A rustling coming from the opposite side of the glade reaches his attuned, pointed ears.

*Shit! There’s something coming!*

and before she has fully inhaled he closes the distance between them, as his lips release only one clear command whispered in her ear:

“Hide!”

With that his hand presses the centre of her chest compelling her to retreat. He knows he hasn’t been careful with his movements when in a mere few seconds he’s already at the opposite edge of the clearing and the source of the noise is now evident in the massive wild bear growling at him. There’s a vague possibility the animal might have been deprived of a few cubs when he last fed and it seems evident from the ire of it, but conversely, the delight of a meal coming to him when he usually has to scout and hunt for it almost makes him lunge.

*how appropriate to kill two birds with just one stone*

Because he will be the hero keeping her safe whilst being the monster sated in his hunger. She’s surely hiding behind a tree by now, there’s absolutely no reason to restrain and with his bite the bear will be down in mere moments. And if need be, his dagger is on him, he can even pretend that’s what dealt the final blow should she want to verify.

*Yes, those are all very good and valid reasons*

And possibly the saliva now reaching his fangs is the last thing he notices before his entire body dives and the bear does not even have time to react to him sinking his canines unceremoniously, pulling flesh and sinew without a care in the world. When the fountain of blood rhythmically rises from the jugular of the beast, it's already over and the bear has already fallen to the ground. He latches onto the open gash and when it hits his tongue It’s metallic and almost acidic but once down his throat it fills his stomach all the same. He really should not have gone hungry for days. The satisfaction and exhilaration should suggest he was really at risk of attacking someone and destroying his cover, but the thick dark fluid flows down his throat and that's all that matters now. But alas, he can tell this feast is already close to the end, no matter the pull his mouth exercises on the carcass.

With a final drag he has drained the animal and his entire upper body arches back, his eyes closing now, savouring the feeling of fullness, if only just short of satisfaction. His head thrown back as his neck extends, exposed, and he begins to feel a slight ticklishness as rivulets of blood are now making their way from his lips to his chin and jaw, past the ridge of his trachea and it’s a moment of peace if not exactly bliss, until some part of him screams preservation and he realises the dishevelment he caused.

He brings his hands to the fabric on his thighs and that’s when he realises the absolute mess he made of himself. His fingers run to his face and he can tell the blood it’s painting his features in a way that will be unequivocal to her. He would be frantically pulling at every pocket on him if the warmth of his full stomach wasn’t so naturally soothing to him, and all he can do now is just bring his fingers to his lips, sucking them and licking them clean so that no drop goes to waste. Eventually he even finds a kerchief, though…

*What a waste of silk!*

He slowly cleans the blood from his mouth with the fabric, and whilst his senses are all coming back more acutely than he could ever be gifted upon an empty stomach, there’s a languor that’s been sedated. He knows the problematics of explaining the red stains displayed on a much larger area than a blow dealt with a dagger would justify

*But I can’t give a bloody fuck right now*

His movements are dawdling and after wiping what certainly must be all the bloodshed upon him, his head lolls back, his eyes slowly open again looking upon the bear’s remains. With a measured movement he’s back on his feet and he might be feeling just a little bit more elegant, a tad bit more regal and self assured in his graceful form, standing tall.

He turns around with a delicate gracefulness to find she did follow his order: her figure almost perfectly sheltered behind a tree. The thought makes something twitch inside him

*what an obedient little thing*

A long, dark strand of hair almost covers her eyes, just not enough to conceal, and this time, for a moment, he can tell.

He can tell that she hasn’t been able to look away, though nothing on her face delivers anything like disgust or recoil at what she’s just witnessed. No, if anything he can tell by the almost imperceptible way the tip of her pink tongue peeps through her plump, red lips. It takes less than a moment, and he might have his elvish eye to thank for it, but something in her expression now feels familiar, akin to enticement

*Eager little minx, If she had ever looked at me that way before, I would have known*

The little book would have been completely redundant because, even from a distance, it's obvious how something in her yearns for him.

And right now, he can’t blame her. Right now, as his body glides with feline gracefulness, he knows she can feast her eyes all she wants because he feels magnificent himself. The life essence is bringing back each and every sense to its apex form and the sunlight feel glorious against the smooth skin of his cheeks, and her heartbeat coupled with her slightly laboured breath is a compelling evidence to sustain every word and thought she has spent over him

+Something must have happened to Astarion, something bad enough to take away his voice, his actual voice, and left him outside looking in. And I don't know how to tell him he's not alone+

And right now the memory of her words coming back to him doesn't even bother him. In fact it's almost sweet how set upon finding his saving graces she is, so much so that she might deserve a treat.

He's just a few feet away from the tree she's still hiding behind, though her one beautiful dark eye peeking has not left him since he began stalking towards her. He gets closer, his long legs lithely gliding towards her and *she can have a show in fact*.

As he reaches the tree he extends his hand towards her so he can coax her out, his voice just like honey

“You're safe now darling, but you can show me your gratitude as you see best fit, though I might have a few suggestions I wouldn't mind indulging in”

At that she moves closer and now that she's not playing hide and seek anymore he has the visual of her increased heartbeat and laboured breath depicted on the rosiness of her cheeks that somehow spread the aroma of mulled wine and flowers even more than usual. The tug at his stomach that's usually elicited by her scent is now happening quite a few inches lower and

*Fuck!*

Her dark eyes seem fixed on a spot just next to his mouth, and as she is now getting closer to him a new layer seems to be hidden in her bouquet, like the sweet tanginess of pomegranate? When she stops for an instant just in front of him, in that moment a flash of terror seeps through his boastful, post prandial confidence

*Shit do I still have blood on my face?? She knows! She must know and I'm fucked! She'll get the others to drive a stake through my heart and fuck waxing lyrical about eternity if immortality looks like… me*

And if that's the end, he concedes to himself to inhale deeply, to hold and commit her exquisite scent to his memory, and when her face gets closer to him

*she must certainly be on her tiptoes now*

Her lips are pressing on his cheek, really so close to the corner of his mouth that at any point it will become debatable whether this would account for a real, proper *first* kiss.

“Thank you, Astarion”

She breathes the words on his skin and she's so up close that it now hits him, that sweet, tangy addition to her scent that reminds him of the tart, juicy seeds of a pomegranate is there for one reason.

*Because she's aroused*

At this point it seems worth considering celebrating this feast by grabbing her waist and pushing her back against the tree, fingers immersed in the softness of her thighs until her legs wrap around his hips and he can finally pin her to the tree trunk while his long fingers move deftly under her garments and

*Fuck! Why do I keep going back there!*

He swallows to keep her scent within his insides and a long, delicate finger finds one of her dark curls to wrap around and place just behind her ear so that his fingertip can brush even just for one moment against that spot that he can finally feel beating rhythmically against his digit. His eyes move to her lips, which seem just a tad bit redder after the kiss she planted on his face, as his entire hand now delves in her hair, caressing her scalp whilst his thumb is on her check and his entire hand is full of her softness, her hair *her mind underneath* and because she hasn't even put up a pretence of annoyance he pushes his luck

“Speaking of which, you were about to open up to me, weren’t you, sweet thing? Before we were so rudely interrupted”

He lets the words linger so he can measure her response and when the hand holding her head ever so slightly pulls her closer, guiding her dark eyes to meet his crimson ones again, she just lets him, so he lowers his tone and continues…

“Can you find your words for me now darling?”

And it seems like all the emotions he can read on her face pool around curiosity, enticement. Her lips tremble for a moment and she has to swallow before her sweet breath is once again hitting his senses.

“Hypothetically… if it was to be blood…”

She reaches up on her tiptoes now, her deftly hands found a way to sneak upon him again and they are now pulling at the fabric on his shoulders as she pulls herself closer so that her cheek is now brushing against his until her next words hit directly against the sensitive outer part of his pointy ear, even though it’s barely a whisper

“You just made it look extremely inviting”.

#astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion x oc #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #ao3 fanfic #astarion x tav #bg 3 #bg 3 fanfic #astarion ancunin #astarion smut #bg3 smut #baldur's gate smut #tav x astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion pov #ao3 smut

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dxncingwithastrxnger · 1 year

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5. i know you get me, so i let my walls come down

A/N: Chapter 5!!!! Guys, lemme tell you, I changed the events of this chapter soooooo much. Honestly, I’ve made a lot of changes to the chapters, I’ll probably be writing out some extra drabbles and scenes later on that didn’t end up in the main story, ngl. But for now, the story continues!!! I will say, the smut in this chapter was totally unplanned. At first, I didn’t want to cause I already have smut planned for both chapters 7 and 8, but this scene wasn’t that long and I figured you guys wouldn’t complain much, lmaooooo. Anyways, this chapter is pretty fun, I hope you enjoy it!!!

Pairing(s): Tristan x Lancelot, slight Nasiens x Percy

Summary: Lance’s friend group likes to spend the occasional weekend at Percy’s grandpa’s beach house over in west Britannia and this time around, they invite Tristan and his friends to come along.

Tags: Alcohol, smut, explicit sexual content, handjob, slight dom/sub dynamics, sir kink, shower sex

Song Inspiration: Teenage Dream By Katy Perry

Word Count: 4,398

Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own.

~*~

[Series Masterlist]

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9]

[Read on AO3]

[Author Masterlist]

~*~

"Percy!! We need to figure out room assignments, everyone else is gonna be here soon!!"

"Hey, does anyone know what we're gonna do for dinner?"

"Somebody better plan on restocking the pudding while we're here."

"Why don't you just do it yourself, Gawain?"

"Lance, do you think there's enough left in the kitchen for you to whip something up for everybody?"

Lance shakes his head, chuckling to himself as he sets his bag on the floor by the hallway leading to the bedrooms and heads towards the kitchen. He'd missed his friends and all the chaos that came with them. "Lemme take some stock in here and I'll see what I can do, Anne." He tells the bluette standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands on her hips.

"Oh, good. I hope there's enough, I really don't feel like going out in public again today." She admits.

"Rough week?" He questions.

"You have no idea." She groans. "I seriously needed this weekend away. Plus, it's been awhile since we've all gotten together here, I've missed it." She sighs.

Lance nods, walking over to the fridge and opening it up. "Definitely." He agrees. He grimaces at the near empty fridge and opens up the freezer instead, looking over the items inside thoughtfully. "Hey, can you look and see if there's any flour and baking powder in the cupboards?" He asks Anne over his shoulder.

He hears her move to look as he pulls out a package of frozen sausage and tosses it onto the counter, closing the freezer back up as well. "Full bag of flour and half a tin of baking powder. Little bit of sugar in here, too." She informs him.

"Alright, cool. I think I got something in mind." He says, pulling out his phone as he leans against the counter. Just gotta see if Tris is willing to make a pit stop.

'Hey, how far out are you guys?'

'About 10 min'

'Do you think you'd be willing to do me a favor?'

'Does that mean you'd "owe me one" afterwards?'

'Why of course'

'Alright, fine, what is it?'

'Stop by a store and grab some milk and butter, pretty please? Doesn't matter what kind or brand'

'Ugh, okay. Only cause I like you so much ;D'

'Thank youuuuuu. I'll make it up to you, promise'

'Oh, I know you will'

Lance snorts, pocketing his phone and looking up to find Anne staring at him with a smirk. "You talking to your new friend?"

He rolls his eyes playfully. "They'll all be here in about 15 minutes or so." He informs her. "Once they get here, I'll have everything I need to start on dinner."

"Great!" She exclaims. "In the meantime, we should probably make sure that the idiots out there haven't made a mess of things already." She points her thumb over her shoulder and in the direction of the living room before turning around and walking that way. Lance shrugs and follows her, having nothing better to do while he waits.

~*~

Seventeen minutes later, Lance is in the process of defrosting the sausage when he hears exclaims from the living room. "Hey, uh, Lance?" Donny calls.

Lance walks into the living room, eyebrow raised. "Yeah...? What's up?" He questions.

"What the hell are Tristan Liones and Isolde Connors doing walking up to the house!?" He exclaims, half panicked.

Anne gasps. "Isolde is here!?"

"Oh, they finally got here, then." Lance says, a smile spreading over his face as he tries not to seem too excited.

"Oh? "Oh"?? That's all!?"

Lance doesn't answer Donny, instead walking closer to the clear glass wall making up the front of the house and watching as four people come up the stone steps. He spots Isolde and Tristan at the front and two men behind them that he doesn't recognize. He doesn't pay much attention to them, his eyes going back to Tristan almost immediately. It's only been about a day and a half since they'd last seen each other, but Lance was excited to see him all the same. In the past week, they'd spent the night together three more times and gone on two dates. They texted everyday and called sometimes, too. Lance didn't think it was even possible to be so attached to someone after so little amount of time, but the proof is right there in front of him that definitely was. He's been wearing a smile all week and all he can think about half the time is when he'll see the man again.

He's found out so much about the prince of Liones since that first night. He now knows that Tristan's favorite color is yellow and his favorite baked good is cinnamon rolls. His OCD was first diagnosed when he was 9, his Bipolar Disorder was diagnosed when he was 15. He'd had one girlfriend and two boyfriends in the past, all before him and Isolde were revealed to be dating to the public at age 19. When he was a kid, he'd had a dog named Monspeet that was first given to him by his Uncle Zeldris and Aunt Gelda, and the dog passed away when he was 17. He currently only models men's clothing, but he's considered asking to try out some women's clothing as well. Not only does he wear lip gloss, but sometimes more than that. He loves everything to do with the beauty and fashion industry and hopes to one day start his very own line of makeup and beauty products. He's obsessed with space and stars, has been for as long as he can remember. He has a deep passion for learning new things, becoming fascinated whenever he finds out a new fact he'd never known before. Whenever he comes to Lance's apartment, he has a new question about the plants he's growing and the crystals Lance keeps around his living space. Lance happily answers each one.

And so, when Percy calls him up and tells him that he wants to get the gang together for the weekend at his grandpa's beach house, the question of bringing Tristan along tumbled from his mouth before he'd even realized what it was. Percy, of course, said he could, and mentioned that he could bring a few friends along with him since the house was so big. Percy's grandpa's beach house has 8 bedrooms total and with their usual group there, only 4 of the bedrooms are taken, leaving the other 4 completely vacant. Tristan immediately agreed, saying he was sure his three best friends would love to come. One of which is, of course, Isolde, and if Lance remembers correctly, the other two are Jade and Chion.

Lance never told Donny, Anne, or Gawain about him and Tristan. They only know that he invited someone who he's getting close to, which they know in translation to mean dating. He technically didn't tell Nasiens directly, either, but he's certain that Percy told him who he was inviting and the both of them already know a little bit about him and Tristan anyways since they'd caught the two men making out back at the club a week earlier. It's just now that Lance realizes there's something else he's never told them. Tristan is the first guy he's ever dated, and he's never really tried to dig too deep into his own sexuality in the past. He's been attracted to plenty of guys, he's just never acted on any of it. So, given all of that, not only is Donny freaked out by the literal celebrities walking up, he's probably also extremely confused. Anne would most likely be just as confused if she wasn't so happy about Isolde being here. Oh, well. They'll adjust.

Lance walks over to the front door, opening it up as the group of four reaches it and holding it open. Percy comes rushing into the room and stops beside Lance. "Hey, everyone! Glad you all got here okay!" He greets cheerfully.

"Oh, Percy, right? It's wonderful to see you again!" Tristan exclaims with just as much cheer. "These are my friends, Isolde, Chion, and Jade." He points to each one as he introduces them.

"Great!!" Percy shakes hands with each of the newcomers, waving the rest of Lance's friends over. "This is Anne, Donny, Gawain, and my boyfriend, Nasiens! And-" Anne barrels into Isolde with a squeal, interrupting Percy.

"Anne!? I didn't know you'd be here!!" She exclaims as the two embrace quickly before pulling back.

Percy smiles at the two before continuing. "And then there's Lance, of course!"

Lance steps back into view after closing the front door and locking it, sending a wave at the new people in the room. "Hey, guys." He says casually.

Before anyone else can answer, Tristan comes right up to him and plants a kiss on his lips. Lance immediately wraps his arms around the silverette and returns the kiss without hesitation. He hears a choked gasp and a "What!?" from his group of friends and he internally snickers. Tristan pulls away slightly, giving him an amused smirk. "I got you your stupid butter and milk." He whispers, his arm coming up to show the grocery bag he's holding in one hand.

"Well, thank you very much, your majesty. I appreciate the hard work you put in, in order to do so." He whispers back, taking the bag from him. "Now I can make dinner." He says in a normal volume this time.

Tristan gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "Am I finally getting to taste the Lancelot Antin's cooking?"

"Oh, don't get too cheeky now, maybe I'll change my mind." Lance quips.

The prince narrows his eyes at him. "You wouldn't."

Lance sighs. "You're right, I wouldn't. Only cause Anne would kill me if I made us go out for something, though." He points his thumb at the bluette.

"Damn right." Anne grumbles, arms crossing over her chest.

"Huh. Good to know." Tristan has a mischievous glint in his eye as he turns away from Lance. Lance just shakes his head, chuckling at the prince's antics.

Tristan starts introducing himself to the rest of Lance's friends and people start to mingle, so Lance takes the milk and butter into the kitchen, putting them away for now. He then finishes his process of defrosting the sausage and then sets it aside for the moment. He then gets out the flour, baking powder and sugar, setting them on the counter as he gathers up other things he'll need.

A few minutes later, he's just starting to flatten the biscuit dough he made when arms wrap around him from behind. "That's kinda hot, you showing off all your muscles like that. Definitely a view I could get used to." Tristan comments.

Lance snorts. "Is that so?" He asks, folding the dough over and then flattening it down with his palms.

"Mm-hm." The silverette nuzzles his face against the man's back and Lance feels butterflies take flight in his stomach at the simple affection. "Your friends seem really fun and this house is gorgeous. Thank you for inviting us." Tristan says sincerely.

Lance stops what he's doing for a moment to place his hands over Tristan's on his waist. "Of course. A lot of good memories have been made here, I'm glad I can add some with you to the mix." He admits.

Tristan doesn't reply, but his hands start to tremble slightly in his grasp. He's about to question why, growing concerned with the man's silence, but then Tristan just tightens his arms, hugging Lance tighter, and buries his face in his back, humming softly. Lance smiles softly and squeezes his hands before focusing back on the biscuit dough in front of him.

~*~

"Dinner's ready!!" Gawain swats a spatula against the living room doorway multiple times to get people's attention.

Lance shakes his head at her with a chuckle as he passes another full plate of food to the pinkette beside him. Isolde has insisted on helping him every opportunity she gets, including taking food from the kitchen to the dining room. Lance had an inkling that she was trying to get him to like her, which was confirmed when Tristan whispered to him to just go with it. Truth is, he has no problems with her. Tristan already explained to him that she doesn't see him in a romantic way and that they're just friends and nothing more, that Isolde is glad their arrangement is over now. And Lance believes them both, he has no reason not to. Not only does he trust Tristan's word, he trusts Anne's as well, and Isolde is a really close friend of Anne's. And so, he lets her do her thing, not like he's complaining about the help.

Lance passes the last plate to Isolde before making sure all the burners are turned off and putting all the dishes he'd used into the sink. He'd made biscuits and gravy. It was simple and about the only thing he could've made with what they had. He'll go out and do some grocery shopping tomorrow morning, making sure there's some good freezer stuff stocked up for next time they come.

"Hey, do you know where the corkscrew is?" Donny asks him as he walks in, heading straight for the wine cart. Which was completely empty save for the wine and champagne glasses on it.

"Yeah, right here." Lance says, grabbing it out of a nearby drawer. "Whatcha need it for?" He asks curiously.

The redhead starts gathering champagne glasses, sending a wide grin Lance's way. "You're boyfriend brought us the wonderful gift of alcohol!" Lance chokes at the title Donny gave Tristan. Boyfriend. Lucky for him, Donny isn't paying much attention as he tries his best to balance all ten champagne glasses. "Hey, think you could bring that in yourself?"

"Y-yeah, I got it." Lance coughs. Donny then walks through and into the dining room, leaving him alone in the kitchen.

He'd be lying if he said he hasn't considered the title at least once. He has. Just yesterday, in fact. But...is it too soon? They've known each other for 8 months, but they've only been dating for a week. One single week that's been incredible. And when he imagines giving that kind of title to Tristan, and Tristan giving that same title to him in return, it just feels right. So maybe it isn't too soon for Lance, but what if it is too soon for Tristan? He just isn't quite sure what the right move here is yet.

He shakes his head to clear his thoughts and leaves the kitchen, finding that he's the last one to enter the dining room. There's a spot open for him right in between Tristan and Tristan's friend, Chion. The purple-haired man has eyes on him as soon as he enters the room, scrutinising his every move as he walks over to the empty chair. Lance just tries his best to ignore the distrust radiating from the man as he takes his seat. Tristan is currently chatting animatedly with the green-haired man on the other side of him. Lance smiles softly at seeing the two getting along so well.

"Alright! Who wants a drink?" Donny calls, drawing everyone's attention as he picks up the corkscrew that Lance had set on the table.

"Please be careful, Donny." Nasiens pleads.

"Don't worry, I got it." Donny waves him off.

"Yeah, don't worry, Nasiens. Donny learned his lesson from last time, when Anne damn-near beat the shit outta him." Lance teases the man, Gawain, Anne, Nasiens, and Percy snickering at the comment.

"Oh?" Jade raises an eyebrow in amusement and curiosity.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Donny grumbles, pushing the screw into the top of the champagne bottle and pointing the bottle in the direction of the kitchen, holding it close to the doorway. Everyone in the room winces at the loud pop as the bottle is opened. Donny then proceeds to fill everyone's glasses halfway, setting the bottle in the middle of the table and sitting back down.

"Oh! Does this mean we can do a toast?" Isolde says from her spot between Anne and Gawain.

"You should do one." Gawain suggests, elbow on the table and her head resting on her chin as she appears to admire Isolde, a look on her face that Lance hasn't seen in years. Well, that's new. Lance makes a note to keep an eye on that.

"Oh, well," Isolde looks around the table, receiving encouraging looks from everyone. "Well, I guess we should toast to new friends. I think I speak for all of my friends here when I say that we're very hopeful for the rest of the weekend. You all seem so wonderful already and this whole place is beautiful. So, thank you." She finishes speaking with a shy smile, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Cheers!" Tristan exclaims, reaching his glass out to clink against hers and then everyone else's as they all do the same.

From there, everyone begins to eat and dinner is anything but quiet. Everyone's chatting and having fun, though Chion seemed a bit uneasy the whole time. Halfway through dinner, Tristan's hand grabs his under the table and Lance intertwines their fingers together. Tristan turns and beams at him, bringing their hands up to his lips and kisses the back of Lance's. Lance then proceeds to look away and act as if the blush growing on his face isn't there as he continues eating, swearing he hears the prince snicker quietly beside him.

~*~

The next day, almost everyone sleeps in, unsurprisingly, and that includes Tristan. Something else Lance has learned about the man is that when he doesn't have anything to do the next day, he really likes to enjoy his sleep. Lance went and got groceries early on, returning with breakfast for everyone, though it ended up being more like lunch for a lot of them. And then it was collectively decided that they would all head down to the beach, as one does when staying at a beach house.

"So, you remember how you owe me one, right?" Tristan comes up to him and crouches down, his hands resting on his knee and his chin resting on his hands.

"Of course I remember. Why?" Lance asks from his place in the sand, leaning back on his hands and his legs stretched out in front of him to allow the water to run over them. His fingers tap against the sand as he stares back at the silver-haired man.

Tristan gives him a shy smile. "I think I know what I want you to do."

He tilts his head at him. "Really? Ready to cash in already?" He jokes and Tristan giggles, nodding his head. "Well, what is it, then?"

The prince bites his lip, his body doing a small wiggle motion that Lance finds extremely cute. "Be my boyfriend?" He asks quietly.

Lance's breath hitches and he stares into his eyes, searching them for any hint of joking. All he saw was a mixture of anxiety, hope, and affection. "Is that all? Cause if that's the case, then you really don't need to use your favor to get me to say yes." He says, sitting up and reaching out to grab one of Tristan's hands in his. "I was plannin' on askin' you the same question already." He tells him.

Tristan's eyes light up. "So, is that a "yes", then?" He asks.

"Yes, your majesty, I will happily be your boyfriend." Lance grins at him, the sentence making his heart soar.

Tristan squeals slightly, jumping at him and tackling him into the sand, giving him a kiss that takes his breath away. Lance laughs against his lips and wraps his arms around the shorter man's waist, kissing him back with just as much enthusiasm. The silverette holds the blonde's face with both hands and deepens the kiss, swiping his tongue over the other man's bottom lip. Lance accepts him, delving into his mouth and sucking on his tongue, drawing a moan out of the prince.

He pulls back and looks down at Lance. "I think I need a shower. Come help me clean up?" He asks coyly.

"Sounds like a good idea to me." Lance whispers. Tristan climbs off of him and stands up, Lance following suit, and Tristan grabs his hand, intertwining their fingers as he leads them back up to the beach house, leaving everyone else to their own fun.

The two of them quickly make their way to their shared bedroom for the weekend, going straight to the connected bathroom. Tristan turns on the shower and adjusts the temperature as Lance goes up behind him, planting kisses down his bare back as he reaches for the waistband of the silverette's swim trunks and pulls them down, sucking and nipping until a mark is left at the base of his spine. He stands back up as Tristan turns around, stepping out of the trunks pooled at his ankles and running his hands down Lance's sides and over his hips until he's pulling Lance's swim trunks down as well. Lance leans down and kisses the prince as Tristan starts walking backwards towards the shower, pulling the other man with him as he steps inside under the spray of water.

Tristan reaches down and grabs Lance's cock, rubbing his thumb over the tip and drawing a groan out of the blonde-haired man. Lance bends down to grab the backs of both of Tristan's thighs, pulling the man up and placing his legs around his waist in one quick motion, causing Tristan to let out a small squeak as his hands latch onto Lance's shoulders. Lance chuckles as he presses Tristan's back to the shower wall. The silverette arches into him, his body instinctively reacting to the cold tile touching his skin, and the action causes his cock to rub against Lance's. Both men moan into the kiss, pressing closer to find that same friction again.

Lance grabs his bodywash from one of the shower shelves, pulling back from the kiss. "I'm supposed to be cleaning you up, right?" He says huskily as he pours some of the soap into his hands, blindly putting the bottle back on the shelf as he keeps his eyes on Tristan.

"Yes, I do believe that was the intention of this shower." Tristan says, smirking as he runs his nails down Lance's chest lightly.

"Thought so." Lance says as he reaches down and wraps his soap covered hand around both his and Tristan's cocks, holding them in a firm grip and giving one, single tug before stopping and Tristan bucks his hips up, trying to get a continuation of the motion. Lance tsks and changes his grip on the prince, instead grabbing tight hold of his hip and pinning it in place.

Tristan gasps and bites his lip. "I love it when you take control." He comments.

Lance gives another tug, this one quicker. "You implying that I usually don't, little prince?" The pet name slips out, something he'd never called Tristan before, but it gets a very noticeable reaction from the other man.

"N-not at all, s-sir." He stutters out, his eyes wide and dark, the absolute furthest thing from innocent.

That flash of heat runs through his body again at being addressed as such and he pumps his fist as he growls out, "Say it again."

"Sir. P-please." The silverette tries to move his hips again.

"Stop squirming, little prince, and I'll give you what you want." He breathes out. Tristan whimpers, but stays still, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "Good." The blonde whispers, before making good on his promise, pumping his fist and continuing the motion instead of stopping after just one pass.

Both of them groan and Lance starts moving his hips in time with his fist. Tristan lets out a whine and Lance digs his nails into the prince's hip, a warning for him not to move yet. Lance speeds up the motions of his hand a bit, groaning. "L-Lance. Sir." Tristan's voice is strained and Lance presses their foreheads together.

"Almost there, sweetheart, just wait a bit longer." He pants.

He jerks them both off quickly now, chasing both their highs but his main focus is Tristan in that moment. They both moan together as they get closer, the hot water beating down on them without much notice from either one.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Tristan chants, his back arching forward more with each curse and his body starts tensing up, like a coil getting ready to spring, and Lance is feeling much the same way.

"That's it, little prince, let me see you cum." The taller man encourages, and that was all it took for the silver-haired man to fall apart in his arms.

"Oh, Lance!" He shouts, body locking up completely as he cums hard. Lance tries his best to keep watching the beautiful sight unfolding before him, but his own orgasm takes over and his vision blurs as he cries out Tristan's name in return.

Tristan comes down from his high with another whimper, Lance with a soft groan, and both of them become still finally except for the heaving of their chests as they try to catch their breaths. "Damn." Lance says.

Tristan giggles. "I cannot wait to do some more exploring with you."

~*~

A/N: What do you think?? Did you guys like this chapter or no?? Tell me your thoughts, I wanna know!!! I actually got this chapter finished last night but afterwards, I was so tired and felt like I was about to pass out from exhaustion, so I just waited to post this chapter until after I woke up but I woke up much earlier than I planned and Imma prolly go right back to sleep after I finish posting this, ngl. BUT whenever I wake up again, I’ll be working on chapter 6 and chapter 6 will definitely, 100% be out later today, so watch out for that!!! Ily, guys, thank you for reading!!!!

~*~

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@darkelf-7

@ivyllamauwu

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 2 years

Text

Christmas Reruns: Day 20—The Yuletide Challenge—Ch. 3 of 3

Rating: G

Word Count: 2818

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Emma heard her phone ding, announcing an incoming text, and she smiled to herself. She’d bet money she knew exactly who was texting her; they’d been texting back and forth more or less every day since she’d helped him decorate his place. She certainly didn’t want to think about it too closely, but she found herself looking forward to Killian’s texts. He was funny…and thoughtful…and an idiot all wrapped up in one smoking hot package.

If the idea wasn’t so completely ludicrous, she’d say she was starting to fall for him. But, of course, that was ridiculous.

Emma glanced down at her phone and read her waiting text.

Killian: Morning Swan! Tick-tock. Nearly Christmas week, and I’ve yet to receive my third act of kindness. ;-)

She quickly sent off a reply.

Emma: Um, actually I just did you an act of kindness. You texted me at 7 in the freaking morning, and I didn’t threaten murder.

He responded with a series of emojis that made her bark out a laugh.

Emma: Fine. I’m free this weekend. What (PLATONIC) good deed do you want this time?

Killian: You had to tack on “platonic”, didn’t you? :(

Emma: Lol, I know you, Killian Jones, and I’m not walking into any more innuendo.

After a bit more nonsense in text message form, Killian asked her to stop by his apartment on Saturday afternoon, and they could decide from there just what her third act of Yuletide cheer would be.

Accordingly, at 2:00 pm sharp, Emma knocked on Killian’s door, waiting with more anticipation than she would have expected for her new…whatever he was…to answer. When he finally did, she was not disappointed. Her stomach swooped at the sight of those deep, blue eyes, the delighted smile that lit up his face.

And then she noticed what he was wearing and barked out a laugh. He’d covered his normal jeans and button down with a large apron that said “kiss the cook”.

“So are we baking today?” Emma asked as she stepped inside and let him help her off with her coat. “Because if we are, I can guarantee you my contribution will not be an act of kindness.”

He chuckled. “Nonsense, darling. Anyone can bake Christmas cookies, and I could desperately use your help. I must have four dozen completed before tomorrow.”

“Four dozen?” she asked with a grin, “sounds like someone’s chasing a sugar high. What the hell are you going to do with four dozen cookies?”

“They aren’t for me, Swan,” he said, looking curiously uncomfortable. “I’ve made rather a tradition of baking cookies for the children at the group home each Christmas.”

That was…really sweet. “I didn’t take you for such a philanthropist. What made you start that tradition?”

“Seemed only good form,” he said, busying himself with grabbing sugar and flour and the other assorted ingredients he would need. “My brother and I lost our parents quite young and we were in and out of establishments of the sort for years. Perhaps I see this as a small way to give back for what Mother Blue and her nuns did for us.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Emma said, taking the apron he handed her and pulling it over her head. “You gonna see him for Christmas?”

His face fell. “He…died. In the same accident that took my girlfriend and my hand,” he said thickly.

The pain radiated off of him in waves, and Emma felt like a terrible person. Stepping toward him, she laid her hand atop his on the kitchen island. “I’m sorry, Killian. I didn’t mean to open old wounds.”

He turned his hand over and laced it with hers, giving a little squeeze, before finally meeting her eyes. “No need to apologize, love. The truth is…I wanted you to know. Perhaps if I talk of it I can finally, truly heal.”

Emma looked down at their joined hands, feeling the oddest sense of belonging at the simple gesture. Her heart turned over, humbled at the idea that he’d entrust her with one of the worst memories of his life. “Well what are Yuletide good deed doers for?” she asked, her voice far breathier than she’d anticipated.

“What indeed?” he asked softly, looking at her with such a look of tenderness it made her want to run away…or fly into his arms, one or the other.

“Anyway,” she said, taking a quick step back, “what about all those cookies we need to bake?”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Killian pulled the last sheet of cookies from the oven and set it on the potholder on his counter before turning back to his guest. Her hair was a mess, she had a light sheen of sweat on her forehead, a smudge of flour on her cheek…and she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.

There was no denying it anymore. He was falling in love with her. He didn’t know what stroke of good luck convinced her to choose him for this challenge of her family’s, but he was profoundly grateful she had.

“That the last of them?” Emma asked as she finished decorating the last sugar cookie.

“Aye,” he answered. “We’ll give them a few moments to cool, and then we can give them a few finishing touches.”

Emma turned to face him. “You know, Killian, I’ve never had any success in the kitchen, but this afternoon has actually been fun.”

“It has, hasn’t it,” he said with a tender smile. “However, it seems you’re wearing nearly as much flour as went into our cookies.”

He reached up before he could stop himself, cupping her cheek and smoothing away the flour with the pad of his thumb. Time seemed to stand still for a long moment, neither of them saying a word, both staring intently at the other.

And then she moved. Grabbing his lapels, she pulled his lips down to hers, kissing him as though her life depended on it. He hesitated for less than a heartbeat before matching her kiss for kiss, letting all his pent-up feelings have free reign as their mouths melded, their tongues tangled.

The heady feel and taste of Emma Swan was intoxicating, and Killian would have gladly spent hours kissing her, but much too quickly for his liking, she pulled away, breathing hard.

“That was…” Killian whispered, not sure there was an adjective in the English language powerful enough to describe what had just happened between them.

“A one-time thing,” Emma said, quickly stepping back.

Killian looked up, surprised, and found in her eyes not the awe and wonder and love he was feeling, but something akin to fear.

“Swan…” he began, hardly knowing what he meant to say.

She’d already taken off her apron and was moving toward the door as quickly as she could. “I have to go.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

“I kissed him,” Emma said quickly, hearing the panic in her voice, unable to control it.

She hadn’t known what to do, where to go, how to calm herself, so she went to the only people she trusted, her family. Mary Margaret had taken one look at her, ushered her inside, and then promptly made her hot chocolate with cinnamon. It was only after a few sips of the sweet, comforting brew that Emma was able to relax enough to breathe again.

“Um…who?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Killian,” Emma said. “I kissed Killian, you know the guy I decided to do the good deeds for?”

Emma could see the excitement Mary Margaret was desperately trying to hide. “Why?” she asked, affecting a casualness Emma knew she didn’t feel.

“I don’t know!” Emma said with a shrug. “I was feeling good. It’s been a while. I don’t know why I did it.”

Mary Margaret took a deliberate sip of her cocoa before responding. “Did it mean anything?”

“No!” Emma was quick to reassure. “It was just a kiss! It was nothing!”

Mary Margaret deliberately set her mug on the counter and focused her full, almost motherly attention on Emma before decisively shaking her head. “No, it wasn’t nothing,” she said. “You wouldn’t have brought it up if it was nothing. You wouldn’t have that deer in the headlights look if it was nothing. Talk to me, Emma. Do you have feelings for this guy?”

“No!” Emma said, getting up and starting to pace. “Yes…I don’t know! I don’t know how I feel other than wanting to hop in my bug and drive as fast and as far away as I possibly can.”

Mary Margaret let her pace for a few moments before getting awkwardly to her feet and pointing Emma in the direction of the sofa before the big, magnificent Christmas tree. “You’re falling for him, but the thought scares you, am I right?”

Emma sighed, defeated. “Mary Margaret, I can’t do this again. I can’t.”

“You can’t do what?” Mary Margaret said with a gentle smile.

“Fall for someone,” Emma said. “Neal, Graham, even Walsh, they’re all gone. There must be something wrong with me, something that drives people away. I can’t fall for Killian only to have it all fall apart in a few months. I don’t think I could stand it again.”

Mary Margaret leaned over and hugged her tightly. “Oh Emma, I know you’re scared,” she said, pulling back, “but it’s worth it. Love is so worth it. Don’t give up what could turn out to be the best thing in your life just because of fear.”

“But…I barely even know this guy,” Emma said. “How do I know this isn’t just the magic of the holidays talking?”

“No one’s saying you have to go off and propose to the guy, Emma,” Mary Margaret said with a grin. “Take it slow. Let things develop naturally. If he’s the one, I promise he’ll be there with you every step of the way; he’ll take things as slow and deliberate as you want.”

Emma was silent for a long moment. Was her sister in law right? Was it possible there could be something real, something substantial, something magical and lasting between her and Killian? The fear gradually began to recede to be replaced with something she hadn’t felt in quite some time. Hope.

“Maybe you’re right,” Emma said finally. “Maybe I owe it to him…to myself…to at least be open to the possibility.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Christmas Eve was a cold, dreary day for Killian, much like it had been for the past five years. He’d begun to hope this year would be different, that this year he’d have someone to spend the holidays with, but after that last encounter with Emma on the day of the cookie baking, he’d started to lose hope.

Killian frowned as he sat before the tree they’d spent so many happy hours decorating. He scarcely knew what had happened. One moment they’d been having a pleasant afternoon, the next she kissed him as though her life depended on it, and then she was gone, running away from him like being in his presence was the most loathsome prospect she could imagine.

What had he done wrong? How had he so royally cocked up something that was turning into one of the most beautiful, meaningful relationships of his life?

Killian took a sip of the rum he’d bought in honor of the holiday (the rum he’d hoped to share with a certain gorgeous blonde). After the disastrous way the evening had ended, Killian had decided it was best to give Emma her space, let her determine the course of their…whatever it was that they had with each other.

Perhaps it was a good idea, perhaps it wasn’t, Killian didn’t know. All he knew was that he missed her, more than he’d ever thought possible. He missed their daily text conversations, their banter, their flirting. He missed her. What if that kiss had driven her away for good? What if he lost her?

Killian took another sip, not even wanting to consider the possibility. A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets. He would give her the holidays, give her a chance to get some perspective, and then he would plead his case, let her know how he felt. He’d never forgive himself if he neglected to do even that much.

There was a knock at the door.

Killian looked up, confused. Who the bloody hell would be disturbing him at 7:30 on Christmas Eve night? He was hardly fit for company, no matter who it might be. “Go away,” he growled, not even bothering to get to his feet.

“Um…if that’s what you want, but I was really hoping we could talk,” came the voice he thought about, dreamed about, daily. Emma!

Killian jumped to his feet and fairly sprinted to the door. “Swan,” he breathed as the door opened, “at last.”

She grinned, looking a bit uncertain at the same time. “So, are you going to invite me in, or what, Jones?”

Killian stepped back hastily, sweeping his good hand out in a gesture of invitation. “Of course, love. You’re always welcome here. Always.”

She smiled shyly up at him as she shed her coat and took a seat on his sofa, patting it in invitation for him to join her. “The tree looks really good, Killian,” she said awkwardly.

“Thank you,” he said, scratching at the spot behind his ear. Why was this so awkward? From the first they’d been comfortable with each other, but now…now it was like there was a wall up between them. Perhaps it would be best to clear the air. “Swan, why are you here?”

She met his eyes, attempting a bright smile. “Well, I still owe you one good deed, right? I had to do four before Christmas, and tonight’s my last opportunity.”

His face fell. “Oh, aye, the good deeds…”

Emma reached over and put a gentle hand on his arm. “Maybe that wasn’t the only reason I came.”

“Aye?”

“Yeah,” she said, suddenly dropping her eyes, picking at the tassel of the afghan he had draped over the back of the sofa. “I just…I wanted to apologize for the other night.”

His eyebrow raised. “The other night? Swan, if you mean to apologize for that kiss, please don’t. I assure you it was both very much wanted and very much enjoyed.”

He watched as a tinge of pink colored her cheeks. “I wasn’t gonna apologize for that. Not really,” she said, finally meeting his eyes. “It was what happened afterwards. The running, I mean. I’m sorry I freaked out on you like that.”

“Swan, you don’t have to…”

“Yeah, I think I do,” she interrupted.

“Emma,” he tried again. “If you don’t have feelings for me, you need not apologize. I never wish to pressure you or take advantage…”

“That’s just it,” Emma said with a hint of impatience. “It’s not that I don’t have feelings for you. It’s that I do.”

Killian felt his heart pick up it’s pace as his stomach swooped pleasantly.

“That’s why I ran away,” Emma continued. “There’s this…I don’t know…connection between us that I can’t deny, and it scares the hell out of me. In my experience people leave. People always leave. If I let myself feel for someone, I just get my heart broken, and…Killian, I can’t lose you too.”

Killian smiled tenderly, reaching up to cup her face, to let soft tendrils of her hair slip through his fingers. “Swan, you need never fear that. If I win your heart, and I have every intention of winning it, it will be because you want me. If I win your heart, it will be the most precious treasure I’ve ever had, and I’ll guard it with my life.”

Emma smiled gently at him, leaning into his touch. “That kind of statement should sound so sappy it’s almost laughable, but coming from you, somehow it doesn’t.”

He grinned. “It’s a gift, darling.”

“Killian, I can’t guarantee I won’t get scared again,” she said, after a soft chuckle, “but being away from you this week made me realize something.”

“Aye, what’s that?”

“I missed you,” she said. “I don’t want to let fear keep us from exploring what might be a really good thing.”

“Nor do I, love.”

“Just…” she said. “Do you mind if we take things slow? I’ve always kind of rushed into things before, but, I don’t know. I want to make sure we do this thing right.”

He smiled, letting his thumb gently caress her cheek. “We can take this as slowly as you like, darling. We’ve our whole lifetimes before us.”

“Good,” Emma said. “How about we make it official by testing out that mistletoe you’ve got hanging by the fireplace?”

NEXT CHAPTER-->

#cs ff #captain swan fanfiction #christmas reruns 2022 #my fanfiction

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gellavonhamster · 2 years

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Tagged by @virginian-wolfsnake (thank you! ❤)

Fanfic Writer 20 Questions

1. how many fics do you have on ao3?

53. This number is misleading, however, because I have a lot of works posted in two languages - Russian and English. If we subtract translations but count all my ASOUE one-shots separately (in Russian I have most of them posted as a single multi-chapter fic), it makes... hang on lemme count... 41. It is not everything I’ve ever written - there were other fics, published in archives or blogs that either don’t exist anymore or that I abandoned long ago.

2. what is your ao3 word count?

169,322. Again, part of this are translations - no idea what part.

3. how many fandoms do you write for and what are they?

I haven’t written anything for the last year and a half, not counting translations of two older fics, unfortunately (one day! Hopefully, one day I will write again!), but my most recent main fandoms were ASOUE and Dracula, plus one work written for Frontier and Dark each.

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

1. give me one good honest kiss (113) - a series of vignettes about the romantic, platonic, and semi-platonic kisses shared among the Polycula™, my main contribution to the Dracula fandom. I think it deserves that, honestly. Maybe I could’ve come up with more interesting circumstances for some of the pairings - there were those in case of which I knew precisely what I want to write and those that I felt I just have to write something for - but overall I’m pleased with it and I’m glad if other people are too.

2. Вспомнить всё (Total Recall, 95) - this is one of the first fics I posted on ao3 and one of those that only exist in Russian. It’s a humorous Teen Wolf story about Derek Hale waking up hungover and finding out, horrified, that his pack of high schoolers threw him a birthday party the day before. I don’t think about this story much these days - I am long over Teen Wolf - but I think it turned out okay for the 2015 me and still is funny, and readers seem to agree.

3. A Simple Life (84) - in which Beatrice, Bertrand, and Lemony contemplate the possibility of having children, with flash forwards of Lemony thinking about the Baudelaire children years later. I did some things I really like in it, such as Beatrice telling Lemony they need three children and Lemony assuming she means volunteers for some VFD plot, and Lemony dreaming of Theodora after Bertrand’s death, but in general it’s not my favourite ASOUE fic that I’ve written - though, of course, I am happy that people like it.

4. Here's Looking at You, Kid (80) - B/B/L and kids again, this time with more focus on Violet being Lemony’s biological daughter. This was written for the Sugar Bowl Tournament, and I still feel like it might be obvious from the text that I was in a bit of a hurry when writing it and especially translating it into English, but apparently it’s not as bad as I thought when I posted it. Not my favourite among my ASOUE fics either, though.

5. Souvenirs (69 nice) - a Dracula fic, a short and extremely self-indulgent Quincey/Jack one. I am quite fond of this silly piece of fluff, so I’m definitely not complaining it made it into the top five.

5. do you respond to comments? why/why not?

I always try to, even if most often it doesn’t get more creative than ‘Thank you so much!”, though it, of course, depends on the comment - if a reader is asking questions or commenting on specific parts, I am happy to carry on a conversation. I’ve received comments that are just emoji or keysmashes - I don’t reply to those, because I don’t know how, but I am grateful for them as well. I really appreciate feedback, and I know from experience that commenting on fic may be challenging, especially in a foreign language, so I want people to know that their comments make me happy.

6. what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Of those that are on ao3 (I’ve honestly forgotten most of my older fics), that must be give me one good honest kiss - the last of the vignettes it is composed of ends with the mention of canonical character death. I rarely write angst, I’m more of a bittersweet-but-hopeful ending kind of writer.

7. do you write crossovers?

Usually, no. In my teenage years, when I often wrote for various fic fests, I sometimes wrote crossover drabbles if some prompt gave me an idea, but never a proper long (or at least longish) story. The only one I have on ao3 is Herr Lucifer, Beware, Beware, a crossover of Dracula and Carmilla - it just feels so tempting and natural to imagine all classic Gothic novels taking place in the same universe.

8. have you ever gotten hate on a fic?

Hmmm. It wasn’t exactly hate, but I remember posting two ficlets for a Russian novel called The Gray House (“Дом, в котором...”) in the blog community dedicated to this book, and the first comment I received was so rude, condescending, and picking on the weirdest things (like pointing out some absolutely normal words and claiming that they’re too archaic) that I was kinda taken aback, didn’t know how to respond (and whether I should), and in the end just deleted that post. Mind you, those were far from being my first fics (though I was much younger then), they weren’t much different in style from my other works that all were generally well liked, and I got positive feedback on them when I posted them on my own blog. Don’t know what was wrong. Then again, that fandom as such had unpleasant vibes - lots of people thinking themselves Very Special.

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

I wish! But no, I don’t think I’m skilled enough. I’ve only written one fic that might be qualified as smut (Terpsichore, B/B/L again), and it was hard to write even though it is very tame by smut standards.

10. have you ever had a fic stolen?

In a way, yeah. Long ago, in Harry Potter fandom, a reader told me someone took one of my short fics and sort of expanded it to make a longer text, while leaving my sentences unchanged. The site I posted fanfiction on back then (hogwarts.net, a Russian HP fic archive, no idea if it’s still functioning) had a forum, one of the topics on which was for informing the moderators about plagiarism. I wrote about that situation there, and I don’t remember how it all ended, but I believe they took down the plagiarized one.

11. have you ever had a fic translated?

No, I translate my own fic, but I never had it translated by someone else.

12. have you ever co-written a fic?

I vaguely remember there being attempts back when I was still is school, but nothing came out of it.

13. what’s your all-time favourite ship?

These change as time passes, of course, but right now, although ASOUE doesn’t occupy as much of my mind as it used to (while still being very dear to me!), I must say it’s still Beatrice/Bertrand/Lemony. It just makes everything about canon a little bit happier and simultaneously even more devastating, you know?

14. what’s a wip that you want to finish but you don’t think you ever will?

I don’t really have any - I don’t write that much to begin with, and when I start writing something once in blue moon, I usually finish it before starting something else. At most I have some ideas that I carry in my brain but cannot make myself start working on in earnest. Right now, the most concrete of these must be Charles/Jerome in book!verse instead of Netflix!verse, but I am not sure I can make it interesting enough.

15. what are your writing strengths?

Ha, I don’t even know, it’s probably for the readers to decide. Dialogue, perhaps? I’ve often found myself smugly satisfied with the lines I came up with for different characters. In case of ASOUE specifically, I also think I’m pretty good at incorporating references to other books into my stories the way it is done in canon.

16. what are your writing weaknesses?

PLOT. I can’t develop plot for shit, and I treasure the few works where I managed to construct some semblance of it. All I can really write is characters Talking about Stuff and Feeling Things.

17. what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

I think that unless it’s a language that the author speaks very well, in order for it to be done well, one really needs to consult the speakers of that language, because machine translation is not reliable enough for this. It can add to the atmosphere of the fic, but if it’s incorrect, it might ruin the impression for the readers who speak that language, especially native speakers. Tbh I don’t think there’s anything wrong with just mentioning within the text that some lines or other are spoken in another language.

18. what is the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Unless we count stories about Winnie-the-Pooh and his friends I wrote as a wee kid (up to making my primary school classmates stage a play I wrote), my first fandom was a Russian YA book series Tanya Grotter (a parody of Harry Potter, yes) by Dmitri Yemets. I was 13 when I found the forum dedicated to these books and their adjacent series, Mefodiy Buslaev, opened the fanfiction section and discovered that wow, you can write stories based on the stories you love and share them with the people on the internet! And immediately proceeded to write a multi-chapter fic and then a bunch of one-shots. They were, well, what you’d expect of a 13–14-year-old human being, but they were a start, and through them I made friends, some of which I still keep in touch with today.

19. what’s your favourite fic that you have ever written?

Oooh, that must be cold weapons, I think. My Suicide Squad fic with which I tricked myself into seriously shipping Boomerang/Katana, under the condition that it’s the kind of slow-burn I have for them in my head. It’s the longest thing I’ve ever written, apart from some early stories I wrote as a young teen, and it took me the longest to write. As I’ve already said, I always struggle with plots, and this one has a plot, even if not a very complex one, and in general, I put a lot of effort into this story - and I’m proud of it. (I was sooo big-brained in my DCEU era, where did it all go?)

20. who do you tag?

@afterthegreatunknown, @catwingsathena, @patron-saints - if you would like to answer, of course!

#talk talk talk #fandom things #this was fun and brought back many memories

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nagdabbit · 8 months

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20 Questions for Writers

tagged by the ever lovely and incomparable @sybilius 💜

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

251,933

3. What fandoms do you write for?

aew/wrestling right now, stranger things in the fairly recent past, marvel in the far distant past but those fics have been lost to time and we're not gonna revisit them ever

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

all of my top five are st harringrove fics, which checks out

lamp-bright rind - celebrity chef billy, unable to cook lawyer steve, they're neighbors, there's mistaken identities, there's cooking lessons, there's healing, there's kittens named after varying kinds of pasta

lit up like a match - soulmate au with trans billy. the idea being, what name would appear on your soulmate if you were trans

keep me in your glow - a sequel/companion to lit up like a match

sugar, butter, flour - the first st fic i wrote, a tiny stranger than fiction-ish au, but without the author narration

to carry within us an orchard - a prequel to lamp-bright rind where billy and robin get extremely drunk and bond

5. Do you respond to comments?

i used to be really good about it, but about the time i was finishing lamp-bright rind, i had what i affectionately refer to as a "hit burnout so goddamn hard i lost my entire mind and will to take part in the ever-loving hell of online existence" and just like. stopped writing for a long while. and as i started getting back into writing, and actually logged in to ao3, the number of comments in my inbox genuinely frightened me and the imposter syndrome portion of burnout recovery hit like a freight train, and i still just can't figure out how to make myself hit reply. i cherish the ones that i do get tho. like, so nuch

this has been ✨🌟 therapy appointments are only so long we haven't made it to that part yet 🌟✨ with your friend daggs

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i don't think ive written anything with an angsty ending, now that i think about it. not posted, at the very least. the choked out series, if id ever got around to still caring about it enough to finish it, would have had an HELLA angsty ending (the draft after mox left wwe and popped up to attack elias)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

lamp-bright rind. just pure golden softness. the dewy soft, morning light, quiet of a kitchen with your beloved, while a ring box weighs down your pocket kind of happy.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not since the way back of the marvel fandom, when i could scarcely sting a sentence together

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i have, but not well and i generally stay away from writing it

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

never been posted, but there is a hobbs and shaw/13 rounds 3: lockdown wip that lives forever in my docs and will never be published

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that ive ever seen

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no, but i think it would be fun!

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

oof. shit. eddie/mox (/renee). they compel me.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i feel like the bookshop will never get finished and i hate it. like, i know how it's supposed to end, so, just gotta get there

16. What are your writing strengths?

pfft i have no goddamn idea

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

too many words for too little meaning

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i don't think ive included other languages in what fics ive posted, so i haven't actually had to think about how id do it all that much recently. i dont speak a second language, despite my entire family being and speaking swedish, so i feel like i struggle with using other languages in my writing. like, i have no real or true context for how this conversation would go, so i feel like i fumble and use the wrong words or sentence structure

whatever language is being spoken, i like to actually see it in fics. like, i don't like to see it already translated and in english until I've reached the end of the fic. when im in it, i like to actually hear the language and use the context of the story to understand it. or if the narrator isn't the one speaking, have them translate it in character, however (un)reliable they might be. that's just a personal preference tho

19. First fandom you wrote for?

i was a bandom baby in the way back of middle school and that's as close as we're getting and we will speak no more of it

20. Favorite fic you've written?

probably come through callin'

it just. kinda happened very suddenly, at a time when i really needed it and it's just really, extremely important to me

tagging anyone and everyone reading this, if you can read it you have been tagged tell em daggs sent ya

#gaem thimgs

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heaven-s-black-box · 10 months

Text

Cafe- cafe Recht Chpt.4

Return to File

Recovery date: August 24th, 2020

Description: Miles owns a cafe with Franziska, and Phoenix and Maya are famous actors. Their daughters go to school together, so what happens when they want a sleepover?

Notes: A entry series involving a descendant of a traveler, following the death of her mother it was determined Sky would be better off staying with Miles Edgeworth. This is an OC insert, the fantastical technobabble is just for looks

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Word count: 769

Back to directory

“Hey Polly, can we go play upstairs in Sky’s room?” Pearl asked once the girls had finished their cakes. Katherine had since bid everyone goodbye, and left.

“Well that’s up to Mr. Edgeworth, and we have to go soon so I can start dinner and you two can do your homework.”

“If your brother has no problem, go ahead,” Miles said, when the girls turned to him.

“Yay!” They cheered, and ran upstairs.

“Thank you,” Apollo said.

The cafe fell into a comfortable silence, as the high schoolers took out their homework and began to work. Ema would occasionally whine about stupid requirments, and college applications. Every now and then, Apollo would look over at Clay’s laptop to see him completely off topic, usually reading something Nasa related. The only other noise was when Sebastian talked to himself or asked about a word to verify it’s meaning.

“Apollo,” Miles asked, “your father’s name is Phoenix Wright?” Apollo nodded. “As in, the actor Phoenix Wright?”

“Yes sir.” Miles nodded, and turned back to his phone.

“Sky is a big fan of his movies, I’m sure their meeting will be interesting.” The last part sounded more like he was talking to himself.

“Wouldn’t she know? I mean, she knows their last name is Wright,” Sebastian asked.

“Nah, Sky probably just thinks it’s a coincidence. She can be a bit oblivious at times,” Kay said. “Hey what did you get for question seven for math?”

“Uh, A.”

“Really, I got C.”

“How on earth did you get C?”

“I don’t know, it’s what I got.”

“In what universe does C look like the right answer?!”

As they continued bickering, Franziska went out back to collect a new shipment of supplies. Meanwhile, Miles wiped down the bar and other tables before moving to help Franziska with the shipment.

---

“Ooo, that’s a pretty box!” Pearl gasped, as she examined a small wooden box on Sky’s dresser.

“Yup! It’s a music box, want me to start it?” The girls nodded, so Sky fished out a small key from one of her drawers and wound it.

The box opened, and a ballerina rose and began to spin slowly.

“Wow,” Trucy whispered, “What song is this?”

“A river flows in you, my mama used to play it for me.”

“Can you play piano?” Trucy asked.

“No.” She shrugged, and set the box down as it continued to play. “Anyways, wanna play a board game? I have uno.”

“Uno!”

---

Miles and Franziska were in the back, sorting through a new delivery, when the doorbell rang.

“Hello, and welcome to cafe Recht,” she said, as she dusted herself off, “What can I-”

Now, if you asked anyone who knew her, most people would say Franziska von Karma has no weaknesses. None. At all. She makes amazing coffee, she can bake, she can cook, and she’s a very intimidating person. If you asked Miles Edgeworth if Franziska von Karma had any weaknesses, he would say two things. The dark, and pretty girls.

“Hi!” The girl’s voice was bright and chipper. “Can I get a flames of justice,” she giggled as she said the name. “That’s a bit of a strange name, wouldn’t you say?” Franziska turned pink.

“Yes, well. That’s what happens when you ask a couple of children to name drinks…” she mumbled, and the woman laughed. “Anything else.”

“Nope, but can I get three sugars and two creams in the drink.”

“Ah, yes.”

Meanwhile at the table, Kay leaned over to Ema.

“Did- did she just break Miss. Von Karma?” Kay whispered.

“I think she did.” This made Apollo look up, and he smiled.

“Hey aunt Maya!”

“Oh, hey Polly. Where’s Pearls?” Maya looked around to see if she’d missed her cousin.

“She’s upstairs playing with her friends.”

“Oh, are you her mother?” Franziska asked, handing Maya her drink.

Maya looked shocked, “Oh god no. I’m her cousin, I just take care of her. My name is Maya Fey, and you are?”

“Franziska von Karma, I co-own this establishment with Miles Edgeworth.”

“Oh, neat! I’m an actress. Actually, I’m working on a movie on the street here for the next week. Maybe we’ll see more of each other, I should bring Nick here.”

“Nick?”

“Maya!” Pearl yelled, as she ran down stairs.

“Aunt Maya! Is daddy with you?”

“Nope, sorry Truce.” Maya ruffled her hair, “I just came in for a coffee, I should head back though. Be good for Apollo you two. Thanks for the coffee Franny!” Franziska turned pink again at the nickname. The cafe was silent until footsteps came down the stairs.

“Who was here?”

#researcher s's recovery #ace attorney #cafe recht #apollo justice #trucy wright #pearl fey #kay faraday #miles edgeworth #franziska von karma #maya fey #oc insert #fluff

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ambrossart · 2 years

Text

DANCING WITH MYSELF

— PART SIX

summary: eddie crashes senior prom hoping to steal a dance with his dream girl, chrissy cunningham. instead, he spends the night stuck in the women’s restroom with you—her snarky, insecure best friend. ❖ pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader ❖ word count: 3,511 ❖ genre: fluff with some angst ❖ series status: complete ❖ warnings: no season 4 spoilers, some coarse language, body image issues, allusions to eating disorders, typical teenage insecurities, angst, jealousy, anxiety, secret crushes, childhood memories, happy ending, lots of 80s music one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten

You shoveled chocolate cake into your mouth while George Michael crooned “Careless Whisper” into the cold, dark depths of your soul: “I’m never gonna dance again… Guilty feet have got no rhythm…”

You sang along with your mouth full, crumbs spewing from your lips, stopping only to take another bite, another swig of punch. You were drunk on your own misery because nobody had bothered to spike the punch bowl. Yeah, apparently you were attending the one dry prom in the entire country, but that was A-okay because this smooth, melancholy sax was sending you swirling into despair and nothing mattered anymore.

You finished one plate of cake, licked your fork clean, then reached for another. That’s how Chrissy found you: three slices deep in chocolate cake, with frosting smeared all over your face. She came up to you like a mother approaching her paint-splattered toddler and said, “What are you doing?”

“Oh, you know, just eating my feelings…”

“Yeah, I can see that.” She surveyed the damage with a frown. “Where’d you get all the cake?”

“I stole it off that table over there.” You gestured with your hand. “Not my proudest moment… and yet, somehow, not my lowest tonight, either.” You sliced through the stolen cake with your fork, another huge chunk, and—down the hatch!—stuffed it all into your mouth.

Chrissy sucked in a breath through her teeth, grimacing as she watched you. “Oh boy,” she said, and sat down beside you. “Okay, sweetie, tell me what happened.”

“I took your advice. I tried to talk to Eddie, I tried to be nice, and I went down hard in a giant blaze of glory. Like, it was cataclysmic, Chris. You should have seen it. We’re talking ‘Mount Vesuvius erupting’ bad, ‘meteor killing all the dinosaurs’ bad. Like, I just single-handedly wiped out an entire civilization in a matter of seconds. Total carnage. No survivors. He yelled at me, Chris. He actually yelled at me, and you know, I always thought I’d be turned on by him yelling, but I wasn’t. Honestly, I’m kinda traumatized by the whole thing, and… uhh, yeah… now I’m sitting here eating cake with my good friend George Michael. He has a lovely voice, don’t you think?”

You went back for more cake, and Chrissy snatched the fork out of your hand. “Okay, that’s enough sugar for you.”

You snorted. “Don’t worry, I’ll just throw it up later.”

Chrissy winced.

“Oh—” You slapped your hand over your mouth and sank into your chair, a shameful blush engulfing your face. “Oh my god, Chris, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… you know, all the lactose, it’s gonna make me sick later, that’s all I meant. I swear, I wasn’t trying to…”

Chrissy’s smile was warm and forgiving. “I know. It’s okay.” She scooted closer to you, then handed you a napkin and told you to wipe your face. While you were doing that, she said, “All right, just out of curiosity… when you were talking to Eddie, were you talking to him like you and I talk? Or were you just making a lot of jokes at his expense?”

“That’s not fair, Chris. I’ve known you my whole life.”

“Just answer the question.”

You puffed up your cheeks and blew out. “Fine, I was making jokes, but they weren’t mean or anything. I just…” You hung your head. “I don’t know how to talk to him, Chris. It’s like, he looks at me and my heart starts beating really fast and I just go into panic mode, and I start hurling insults like hand grenades. It’s like World War II in my head, and I’m deep in the trenches. And I know I’m messing it up. I can hear myself messing it up. All the warning bells are going off: Abort mission! Abort mission! But I can’t stop myself! I insult his clothes and his music, and I sacrifice him to demons.”

Chrissy said, “Wait, what? Demons?”

“Yeah… I kinda sacrificed him to a demon back in middle school—well, his character, not him. This didn’t happen in real life or anything. It was in a game: Dungeons & Dragons. I dunno if you’ve heard of it, but… it’s surprisingly fun. You get to make your own character and everything.”

“And sacrifice people to demons, apparently.”

“Yeah—well, no, you aren’t really supposed to do that. I kinda went rogue and ruined the whole game.”

“That sounds more accurate.” Chrissy giggled into her hand, then tipped her head at you and smiled. “Oh… what am I gonna do with you?”

“Trade me in for a newer model?”

Chrissy shook her head. “Nah… I’ve grown kinda attached to you.” She took your napkin and carefully dabbed some frosting off your chin. Then she put her hands on your knees and said in a calm, reassuring voice, “Hey, listen to me: it’s just Eddie. You’re not exactly talking to Steve Perry here.”

“Well, at this point I think I’d have a better shot with Steve Perry.”

“Yeah… he’s a famous rock star, so somehow I doubt that.”

“Well, you don’t know how charming I can be.” You pressed your hand to your chest and fluttered your lashes.

Chrissy laughed at you. “Actually, I know exactly how charming you can be, which is why it breaks my heart to see you like this. Seriously, what are you so afraid of? Him not liking you back?”

“Oh, he definitely doesn’t like me back. Yeah, I’d say him yelling in my face kinda solidified that.”

Chrissy said, “Well, then you have nothing to lose, right?” and you went quiet. “Just talk to him. Don’t overthink it. Don’t make jokes. And please, for the love of God, don’t insult the guy. Just walk up to him and be honest. Say, ‘Eddie, I’m an idiot—I’m an adorable idiot, but an idiot. I’ve been in love with you for six years, but I never knew how to express my feelings. I’d very much like to marry you and have your babies’—Ha!” She absorbed your half-hearted slap, giggling as she did.

“Just talk to him,” she said. “I promise you’ll feel better once you do.”

“Yeah, that’s easy for you to say. You confess to a guy and he’s basically winning the lottery. I do it and it’s like, Sorry, son, there’s been a death in the family.”

“Oh, that’s not true, and you know it. You’re the lottery, too.”

“Yeah, maybe the penny scratcher…”

Chrissy shook her head. “Now you’re just being silly.”

But you weren’t. You weren’t joking at all.

Silence fell over the table as the music seamlessly transitioned into The Dream Academy’s folksy cover of “Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want” by The Smiths. Another slow, painfully depressing song, but this one was even worse because it carried this pathetic sense of yearning that stabbed and twisted into your heart like a dagger.

You braced yourself for another three minutes of torture when, out of nowhere, a phantom voice said, “Wanna dance?”

You looked to your left and felt your stomach flip. It was Jason Carver, standing beside you with an outstretched hand, looking like a damn Ken doll in his prom tux. (You had made that joke more than once. Chrissy always hated it: “I swear to God, if you call me Barbie, I’ll kill you.”)

You flinched away from him, blushing. “Oh… no thanks, I don’t really—”

“Come on, it’s our last prom. You gotta do at least one slow dance.” Jason’s smile was confident and irresistibly charming.

You stared at his hand for a minute, your stomach twisting into all kinds of knots; then you glared at Chrissy. “You put him up to this, didn’t you?”

She put up her hands and backed away from the table. “Hey, don’t look at me…”

And before you could further protest, Jason took your hand and effortlessly lifted you out of your chair, making your knees buckle as soon as you put weight on them. The anxiety was hitting you like a train now and dragging your body over the tracks. What if you stepped on his foot? What if you scuffed up his shoes? They looked like some really expensive shoes. Could you actually afford to replace them? What if your breath smelled terrible? What if you had chocolate cake in your teeth? (Oh my god, you definitely had chocolate cake in your teeth!) You two were going to be standing face to face, practically nose to nose. He was going to see everything. The peach fuzz on your face. The huge pores on your nose. What if Jason saw all these glaring imperfections and thought, Wow, she’s somehow even uglier up close?

Well, then you would simply die.

Panicking, you pulled your hand out of his grasp. “Wait, Jason, I…”

Jason chased your hand, caught it, and gave it a comforting squeeze. “Hey, come on. Just relax, okay? I promise I won’t step on your feet.”

“Yeah, but I…” You saw your reflection in his dazzling blue-grey eyes and suddenly lost your will to resist.

The next two minutes felt like two hours.

Here you were, slow dancing with Jason Carver in the middle of the dance floor. His hands were around your waist, holding you close like you were his real date and not just some last-minute tagalong. Your arms were draped around his neck, stiff and awkward at first, but gradually loosening as you swayed to the music. It was surreal, being this close to him: feeling his heart beating against yours, feeling the heat of his breath on your face whenever he spoke, whenever he laughed at one of your jokes.

Ten-year-old you would have been so happy right now. She would have floated home on a cloud, spent the rest of the night daydreaming about Jason Carver and gushing about him in her diary. Savor that sweet naivety, kid, because in a few years it’ll all be gone. You couldn’t remember the last time you let yourself daydream, get so caught up in your fantasies that you had to pinch your arm just to bring yourself back to reality. You tried, but you could never seem to get your feet off the ground. They were just so heavy.

Then after a while, you just stopped trying.

“You know, I used to be really jealous of you,” Jason said after a while.

“What?” you said. “Why?”

Jason looked at you like you were insane, like it was so painfully obvious. “You’re Chrissy’s favorite person in the world, and you always will be. Whenever something good happens, you’re her first phone call. When she’s upset, she goes running to you for comfort. And that just kills me because I wanna be that person for her too, and I’m scared I never will be.”

You frowned. “Yeah, we kinda have a weird codependency thing going on. It’s probably really unhealthy, actually…”

Jason laughed. “It’s not, it’s great, and I’m so glad she has you. Honestly, I am.” His smile was so sincere and sad, it broke your heart a little. “Look, Chrissy is amazing, easily the best thing that ever happened to me, but I know she only shows me the good side of her. The happy side. She smiles for me and cries for you. She doesn’t trust me enough to show me her ugly side, and I don’t know how to change that. I’m scared to bring it up because I don’t wanna push her away, but I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do.”

“Jason, trust me, you’re already doing exactly what you’re supposed to do.” When you said this, you felt your chest tighten. “Maybe I just need to step back a little, give you two some space.”

“What? No, that’s not what I—”

You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. “Jason, it’s fine, really. Honestly, I think that’ll be the best thing for both of us. I mean, we can’t lean on each other forever, right?”

You laid your chin on his shoulder and stared across the dance floor to where your best friend was sitting with a huge smile.

Of course Chrissy wasn’t jealous watching you dance with her boyfriend. No, that hideous emotion was reserved just for you. You were the one who was never satisfied with what you had. You were the one constantly comparing yourself to everyone else. Judging yourself. Weighing yourself. Hating yourself.

Here you were, slow dancing with Jason Carver, being the envy of every girl at prom, and all you could think about was how badly you wanted to switch places with Chrissy Cunningham, to be sitting right where she was.

Because that’s where he was going.

As you watched Eddie approach Chrissy, as you watched them talk, Jason started singing under his breath: “Please, please, please… Let me get what I want… Lord knows it will be the first time…” and you buried your face in his shoulder and squeezed your eyes shut real tight.

Chrissy stared at Eddie Munson with knitted brows. “You’re asking me to dance? Why?”

“Uhh… because I want to? I don’t really know how else to answer that.” Eddie scratched the back of his neck, feeling both nervous and bashful as he stood before her in his suit jacket and ripped jeans. “Umm, look, you don’t have to say yes or anything. Seriously, just say the word and I’ll get outta your way and leave you alone. I just thought, y'know, since it’s the last prom and all…”

Chrissy cut him off. “Yeah, but why? I never even talk to you, so why would you wanna dance with me?”

“Well, I uhh…” Eddie cleared his throat a few times, then let out a nervous chuckle. “Wow, you’re really putting me on the spot here, aren’t you? Umm, okay, well… that’s a little difficult to answer, and I’m probably gonna shoot myself in the foot for saying this, but... Wait, are you okay?”

Chrissy was staring off towards the dance floor, where her boyfriend was dancing with her best friend, and as she did, her whole expression just kind of wilted into this guilty, miserable look that cut Eddie to his core.

“Oh shit,” he said. “Hey, look, I’m not trying to get in the way of anything here. I know you have a boyfriend and that’s totally cool. I just…”

Now Chrissy had her hands cupped over her mouth, appearing on the verge of tears.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, to seemingly no one at all. Then she looked up at Eddie, her blue eyes sparkling like two gorgeous sapphires, and she said the words he had been dreading most of all. “Look, I’m really sorry, but I can’t dance with you tonight.”

She pushed past him and walked away, leaving Eddie gutted and standing alone with his heart in his hand.

“Okay,” he said after the initial shock had worn off, “that was fucking brutal.”

When you finally opened your eyes again, you were facing the opposite side of the room and staring at a wall of familiar faces. But one in particular caught your eye. It stole the breath from your lips and made your face go white with terror… as if you were seeing a ghost.

Your legs felt so heavy as you broke away from Jason and stormed across the dance floor. Once you got close enough, you opened your mouth to yell, but all that came out was a hoarse whisper.

“I thought you had food poisoning!” You hissed the words like it was a curse, like you were trying to banish his spirit back to the grave.

Chance Gallagher turned toward you with a cup of punch in his hand and a pretty girl at his side. “Oh shit,” he said, looking like a rat caught in a trap. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean, what am I doing here? What are you doing here? I thought you were sick.”

“Yeah, well, I uhh…”

“You got better, huh?” There was a lump in your throat as you watched Chance fidget with his tie, loosening it so he could breathe more easily. The color of it matched your dress perfectly, but it also matched the dress of his pretty new date, along with the corsage that dangled from her wrist. It was your favorite flower. You figured it was hers, too.

You rubbed your brow furiously, struggling to fully grasp the situation. “Wait, I think I’m a little outta the loop here… If you didn’t actually wanna go to prom with me, why did you even ask me in the first place?”

Chance’s shoulders went up and down uncaringly. “Because Jason asked me to.”

His words hit you like a sucker punch to the jaw. You staggered back and shook your head. “What? Jason asked you to…?”

Of course, you thought. Of course, Jason put him up to it. Why else would someone like Chance Gallagher ask you to prom? Chance was popular, Chance was on the basketball team, and who the hell were you but Chrissy Cunningham’s bitchy best friend? You knew he wasn’t actually interested in you. Hey, you? The guy didn’t even know your name! That little voice in your head tried to warn you—it was practically screaming at you!—but you didn’t listen to it. No, you let yourself wish and dream and get swept up in all the grandeur of prom, but it was all bullshit. Fake, plastic, bullshit. And you shouldn’t have come in the first place.

You ran into Jason and Chrissy on your way out. As soon as you saw Jason, you pointed your finger in his face and screamed at the top of your lungs, “YOU SELFISH SONOFABITCH! YOU TRIED TO PAWN ME OFF TO YOUR FRIEND!”

Chrissy’s face scrunched up with confusion. “What? Jason, what is she talking about?”

Jason opened his mouth and closed it again. His stormy blue eyes were writhing with guilt.

“He forced Chance to ask me to prom, Chris. He made him do it. What, did you have to pay him? How much was I worth, Jason? Twenty bucks? Thirty? Did you get a good deal out of it, at least?”

Jason exploded: “Oh, come on, of course I didn’t pay him! I would never insult you like that!”

“Right, you would just force me onto your friends like some chore!”

Jason shook his head furiously. “No, that’s not what it was! I swear to God it wasn’t. Look, all I did was ask Chance to do me a favor, that’s all. I didn’t know he was gonna flake on you like that. If I’d known, I never would’ve asked him to do it in the first place.” He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the dirty blond roots. “I just wanted everyone to have a good time. That’s all I was trying to do.”

“I don’t believe you,” you said as a tear escaped your eye and rolled down your cheek. “No, you wanna know what I think, Jason? I think you wanted to have a good time, and I was in your way. Well, don’t worry, Jason, I’m getting out of your way now, so you go ahead and enjoy your perfect little prom, okay? I’m done.”

You turned to leave and Chrissy was at your elbow, crying and begging you to stay.

You said to her, “No, please, I don’t wanna be the one that ruins your night, and I really don’t wanna cry anymore. And I know if I’m around you, I’m gonna completely fall apart and… I just need some time by myself, okay? I’ll be fine, I will, I just… I really need to get outta here.”

You tore away from her and saw dozens of eyes bearing down on you. Preps. Jocks. Nerds. Cheerleaders. Sally, Sarah, and Stacy, standing there looking so damn pleased by your misfortune. Like this was just perfect, wasn’t it? Like it was exactly what you deserved.

You squirmed away from their eyes, all of their eyes, and ran up the stairs and out the door.

Now here you were, sitting on the dirty floor of the women’s restroom and crying in your prom dress while "Endless Love" sent you spiraling right back to middle school. All you needed was a bucket of pigs' blood dropped on you, and your night was complete.

You ripped off your corsage and whipped it at the garbage can. Then you slumped down, knocked your head against the wall, wiped some of the mascara off your cheeks, and thought, God, this night can’t possibly get any…

The door burst open and—“Oh shit!”—Eddie Munson came stumbling into the bathroom like a drunken idiot after a bar fight. He spun around, catching himself on the wall, and then pushed his back against the door.

His brown eyes bulged as they locked with yours.

“Uhh… hi. How's your night going?”

_____________________

PREV // CURRENT // NEXT

#eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #chrissy cunningham #jason carver #chrissy x jason #eddie x chrissy #stranger things 4 #st4 #ambrossart #dancing with myself #dwm #eddie munson imagine #fanfiction

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hoseok666 · 2 years

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and they were roommates - ch. 6

➸ pairings: jungkook x reader/taehyung x reader ➸ genre: strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, eventual angst, eventual smut, fluff, pretty much everything . college!jungkook AU, college!taehyung AU, tsundere! jungkook, warm personality taehyung, slowburn

➸ word count: 17.9k (yeEHHHH ALL FOR YOU GUYS) ➸ chapter summary: the one where everyone is oblivious as fuck to their own feelings ➸ chapter warnings: small mention/asking of domestic abuse, smut (finally), lots of y/n crying :(, asshole jungkook, stupid jungkook, stupid taehyung, adorable taehyung, slight y/n x namjoon 👀 ➸ series summary: it all started with a rejection from your longtime crush, jeon jungkook. you decided to confess to him on your last day of high school. after a harsh rejection and a rough summer dealing with the heartbreak, you were starting anew once your freshman year of college came. you were going to be sharing an apartment with two other roommates that you don’t even know. what a surprise you’re going to be in for once you find out it’s the one and only: jeon jungkook and kim taehyung.

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6

Monday morning rolls around, kicking off the final week of October. Halloween was just days away from now and you could practically taste all of the sugar from the candy and feel all of the cavities forming in your teeth once you, Taehyung, and Jimin binge on all of the Halloween candies while watching spooky movies that you all plan on watching together.

You were starting off your Monday with Hoseok and Yoongi, while drinking your pumpkin spiced lattes together outside, sitting on a table that was in front of your local Starbucks. “You haven’t truly experienced autumn if we haven’t tried Starbucks pumpkin spiced lattes at least once.” Hoseok took a long sip of his hot drink. “Shut up, Hoseok.” Yoongi groaned, rubbing his eyes. You snorted at that which caused Hoseok to look at you. “Why are you laughing? Isn’t this your first time having anything that wasn’t an iced mocha ever since the day we’ve met?” You rolled your eyes at Hoseok’s retaliation and just silently sipped on your latte.

“So how did the two of you spend your weekend? Other than leaving me alone so that the two of you could play videogames together til dawn.”

Yoongi smirked at you. “You’re just jealous that you have no one else to play video games with like we do.” You scoffed. “I don’t even like playing videogames in the first place!” you shot back, making Yoongi laugh at your annoyance with him. “We basically spent all Friday night chilling inside the PC cafe. Saturday and Sunday, I was just studying and working on my internships.” Yoongi finally answered.

“You’re such a nerd, Yoongi. So what I’m hearing is that all you did was play computer games and homework?” you teased, making Yoongi roll his eyes at you as his response. “I’ve been job-hunting all weekend. Literally, why is nobody hiring right now? We’re two months away from Christmas season! They should be hiring for seasonals or whatever.” Hoseok pouted and sighed. You perked up at the idea of looking for a job. “What kind of places have you been applying at?” You asked him.

“I’ve heard that servers make pretty good money, especially if they work at a really demanding and popular restaurant. They can practically pay off rent in Seoul from the amount of tips that they make.” Suddenly, Hoseok’s eyes grew into saucers. “I’m so dumb! Doesn’t your friend Taehyung work at that cafe down the street from campus? Do you think he could hook me up with a job?” Hoseok grabbed onto your arm and looked at you with his pleading eyes.

You shrugged and gave him an uneasy look. “I mean I could try and ask. Taehyung does make a lot of money from that job. It’s probably because he has such a suitable personality as a server.” You smiled. Hoseok gave you a teasing glare and nudged on your arm. “Look at you talking about his ‘suitable personality’. Are you falling in love with him yet?” You snorted at Hoseok’s crazy words and shook your head. “What? I’m just saying how Taehyung has the right personality to be a server! He knows how to make people feel comfortable and he’s genuinely a people person.” You went on to continue complimenting Taehyung’s personality. You certainly weren’t helping yourself to not make it seem as if you were drooling over him.

Hoseok’s teasing glare deepened and he looked at you with interest. “I see that you’ve certainly gotten to know his personality a lot more recently. What did you two do this weekend?” Hoseok wriggled his brows, causing Yoongi to playfully slap his chest.

You laughed nervously. “Hoseok, nothing went down between us. All we did was just hang out a lot with Jungkook and Jimin at this amusement park or whatever.” you said, nonchalantly. Yoongi and Hoseok’s eyebrows furrowed at the unfamiliar name of ‘Jimin’.

“Who’s Jimin?” Yoongi asked. “Oh! I forgot to mention about him to you guys. Jimin’s like Tae’s and Jungkook’s childhood best friend who’s gonna be staying with us for awhile. He just moved up here to Seoul from Busan.” you explained to the confused couple. Yoongi snickered at you, causing you to give him a bewildered look. “What?”

“You’re surrounded by so much dick, ___. How have you not gone feral yet?” Hoseok nodded in agreement with his boyfriend. You scoffed and let out a laugh. “Why does everyone expect sex to happen if a girl and a guy are living together? We’re literally all just friends!” You defended yourself. “Oh yeah? Then show us a picture of him.” Hoseok demanded. You sighed but obliged to his request either way. You went to Jimin’s Instagram profile that you had just recently began following a few days ago (due to him forcing you to follow him on all of his social medias) and scrolled to find his most recent selfie. Finally, you had found one.

“Here”.

It was a picture of Jimin laying down on a bed, with a dog sitting right next to him. It was taken back when he had been living in Busan. You shoved the picture in front of your two friends. Yoongi and Hoseok’s eyes immediately widened. “___! Are you stupid? He’s hot.” Hoseok exclaimed. You rolled your eyes at him and his words. “I just met him, Hoseok. I’m not the kind of girl that would immediately suck a guy’s dick just because he’s hot. He has to deserve it.” you winked at them, causing both boys to laugh at you. “Stop playing, __. You’re not the type to suck dick at all.” Yoongi laughed. “Maybe I’ve already sucked dick before; you’ll never know.” Hoseok squealed at your words and playfully slapped yout arms. “So? You never told us what went down during your weekend with your three boyfriends. How’d everything go?” Hoseok tried to re-focus on the previous conversation.

“Nothing, Hoseok. The day Jimin had arrived, the boys went off to go clubbing, remember? That was when I called you to come over. And then, suddenly Jungkook ended up coming back home and--,” you stopped yourself from continuing the sentence. You were unsure if you should tell Hoseok and Yoongi about the intimate conversation that you and Jungkook had shared that night. “He came back home and what?” Hoseok urged you continue.

“Um. He came back home and..we sort of just talked. Like regular human beings. We didn’t fight or anything.” You quickly summarized for them, not wanting to say a single personal detail. “What do you mean by ‘talked’?” Yoongi asked, leaning forward to listen to you intently. You shrugged. “I don’t know, we sort of like talked about some personal things going on in our lives and I gave him advice and all that. It felt really intimate.” You admitted, looking back into a distance as you reminisced those moments between you and Jungkook. Yoongi began to smile approvingly. “That makes me glad. I’m glad Jungkook finally found someone that he can act like an actual human being with emotions with.”

Hoseok laughed at him. “You act like you show emotions too, Yoongs. Both you and Jungkook act like you’re some dull, emotionless robots.” You and Hoseok laughed together as you nodded in agreement with his words. Yoongi rolled his eyes at that and ignored his boyfriend’s mocking words. “Anyways, I’m glad that Jungkook was able to open up with you about whatever was going through that little intelligent head of his. I don’t really wanna know what exactly he said to you or whatever, but I am happy to know that he’s let off some stress. The kid’s been acting so tense whenever we would be working together.” Yoongi informed you, a melancholy facial expression had taken over his pale face.

You felt at peace after hearing what Yoongi had to say about Jungkook. Yoongi was right. During the amusement park day, it seemed like as if Jungkook had let loose of whatever stress was eating him up alive and he allowed his outdoor surroundings to take over his body. You began to think if maybe his mother and his choice of major were the main causes of his previous stress.

“So, you didn’t bond more with Taehyung during the past weekend? You bonded with the other one instead? Disappointing.” Hoseok tsked. You gaped your mouth open at that. “Hoseok! Why are you trying so hard to force some unrealistic and nonexistent romance between me and Taehyung?”

Hoseok scoffs at you, annoyed with your obliviousness. “How have you not felt some sort of connection between the two of you? You guys are practically Han and Anna from Frozen; always finishing each other’s sentences and get excited over the littlest things and you both enjoy each other’s company like crazy.”

“But didn’t Han eventually betray Anna in the end?” Yoongi mentioned. Hoseok took a moment to reroute his thoughts and think of another analogy to compare the relationship between you and Taehyung. His silence had you quietly snickering, feeling satisfied that Hoseok had finally shut up about you and Taehyung for once.

“Whatever. You guys know what I mean. To sum it up, I’m Team Taehyung.” “What is this, Twilight? Are we seriously gonna battle over who ___ is best with?” Yoongi complained. “Yes.” Hoseok said. Yoongi sighed and softly chewed on his lower lip. “Well in that case, I’m Team Jungkook.”

You were cringing hard at these words. The fact that both boys are fighting over which guy should be the one for you was embarrassing and revolting at the same time. But that doesn’t mean that you weren’t completely against the fact that Yoongi is rooting for you and Jungkook. Maybe he actually sees something between the two of you. Maybe it isn’t just all in your head for once.

“Jungkook? Why ___ and Jungkook?” Hoseok recoiled. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Hobi, but the kid’s a complete dickhead. He needs someone sweet and soft like ___ to completely neutralize his asshole-ness. Besides, the best couples are the ones who challenge each other to grow to be their best selves. I think he and ___ would be that kind of couple who aren’t gonna be afraid to call each other out on their bullshit and they’ll help each other grow into the best versions of themselves. Someone who can support and love you, especially the ugly side of you. The fact that ___ is still interacting and living with a hardheaded guy like Jungkook just shows that she’s a capable candidate to handle him.” Yoongi explained thoroughly.

Hoseok scoffed. “Capable candidate? What is this, The Bachelors or something?” you teased, finally speaking up. Yoongi’s words had your heart racing at about a thousands miles per second. Was what he said true? Are you someone who he seems is able to handle Jungkook at his good and bad? Is Jungkook the type of guy to be able to handle your worse and your best self? Would the two of you be the kind of couple that will uplift each other and allow each other to challenge yourselves? Is that even an important component in order to be in a successfully long-lasting relationship? Why is love so hard? Why is liking someone like Jungkook so hard?

“Okay well, I gotta go. I have a class that starts in about ten minutes.” you lied. You wanted to find a way to leave this conversation and leave the two boys who won’t stop squabbling over your oh-so-dramatic love life.

“You want us to walk you to class?” Yoongi asked. Your heart always warmed everytime Yoongi offered to walk with you to a certain place. “I’ll be fine, Yoongi. Thanks though.” you gave him a sincere smile and waved goodbye to the couple before heading off to your next “class” aka home.

. . .

You were welcomed to an empty apartment. An extremely messy and empty apartment. Having Jimin here was great and all, but he wasn’t exactly the cleanest guy around. He had spare boxers lying all over the living room, along with some dirty socks and some shirts that were thrown around. You assumed that Jimin was probably busy with something today and rushed to find an outfit -- which was probably why the living room looked as if it was just hit from a tornado full of clothes.

Taehyung was at work and Jungkook must be probably out in his classes as well. You had the entire apartment to yourself and it felt good.

You went off to enter your room and sunk yourself into the soft sheets of your bed. You were bored. There was nothing to do right now. Of course, you had some homework assignments to complete or whatever but they weren’t due for another few days and you wanted to rest for a bit rather than force yourself to work ahead.

Suddenly, a memory of the night when Jungkook had come home drunk from the club ascended back into your mind. It seems as if that night was on a constant loop inside your head. You couldn’t stop thinking about how close you were next to his warm body and how you got to see his soft and vulnerable side. It was such an intimate moment and you couldn't help but to crave more of those moments with Jungkook even more. You wanted to know Jungkook better than you knew yourself. You wanted to be the shoulder he could cry on. You wanted to be the first person Jungkook could come to whenever he had good news, bad news, and sad news. You wanted to be his everything. You wanted Jungkook, so badly.

You groaned in annoyance at the fact that your feelings for him have only just grown to be stronger rather than going away. Your stomach was flipping and flopping, heart was pounding hard against your chest and your breathing had gotten a lot heavier.

You decided to ignore these feelings for him by reaching towards to your laptop and searched up some of the majors that Konkuk had provided, to gain some new ideas of what you could major in.

A part of you didn’t really want to admit it but you had always fantasized the idea of you becoming a screenwriter. You’ve always loved writing as a child and as a young teenager growing up. You haven’t written any sort of fictional or non fictional work in years and you weren’t really too confident with your writing anymore, due to the fact that it’s probably really rusty right now.

You went onto the Konkuk University official website to search up what kind of majors or departments are offering the kinds of writing classes that you’re interested in.

In all honesty, Konkuk wasn’t really the best school to attend to if you’re focusing onto the Liberal Arts. Konkuk was morley focused onto their law program and sciences. The best schools for the film and the arts were SKY Institutions -- Seoul University, Korea University, and Yonsei University -- or the Korean Academy of Film Arts but how the hell were you gonna even allow yourself to apply to such prestigious universities like that? Especially with your mediocre grades from high school.

However, you came across to a certain college that Konkuk offered: The Undergraduate College of Art and Design.

They had a specific department for film and animation. They had its own department for animation as well? Of course, Jungkook was the very first person that you had immediately thought of. Your heart suddenly began to race again: What if Jungkook and I have to take the same classes together?

You read through the instructions of how to apply for the department as thoroughly as you could. You have to have at least a 3.0 GPA average in order to transfer into this department by the time your sophomore year rolls around, along with two professor recommendations. You still have time, right? It was only October.

You reached out for a notebook and wrote a game plan of how to get into this amazing department that was clearly made for you and Jungkook. First, you have to start creating connections with all of your professors -- even the ones you don’t like. Then, you need to make sure that you don’t ever get less than a C on any important exams, quizzes, or quizzes. Fuck, maybe not even less than a B-? After that, you need to find a way to get Jungkook to join this department too so that he could finally achieve his lifelong dream of being an animator.

Although these steps seem to be simple, it truly does require an awful amount of work and effort. Especially with the studying part.

You heard the chime of your apartment door being opened and some heavy sounding footsteps had echoed through. You heard the familiar sound of an exasperated sigh and immediately knew that it was Jungkook who had come home.

You got up from your bed and headed towards to the door. “Hey.” you greeted him. He looked up at you, with a slightly surprised look in his eyes. He had music blaring from his headphones. He reached into his phone that was inside a pocket and quickly paused the music. “Hey.” he replied back, taking out his headphones from his ears.

“You’re home.” you awkwardly say, stating the obvious. Jungkook gave you an annoyed glare and headed towards to the kitchen, immediately raiding the fridge already. He reached inside and grabbed a small can of iced espresso. He indulged the beverage within seconds.

“Wow, someone’s thirsty.” you nervously joke. Jungkook looks at you, examining you and your words. “Why are you being so odd right now?” he asks nonchalantly.

“How am I being cringey?” you furrow your brows at him. “You’re trying to crack some jokes and unsurprisingly, they aren’t really working out for you, are they?” he cocked his head to the side. You scoff at him as a response, and sat down on one of the bar stools that was by the countertop.

“So, how was your day?”

Jungkook wasn’t a fan of small talk. In fact, he wasn’t a fan of any kind of talking at all. He loves silence and loves not interacting with people. He would rather slam his tongue on a car door rather to have this agonizing conversation with you right now.

“It was fine. How was yours?” he asked in an uninterested tone.

“Eh, it was okay.” Jungkook nodded at that, not knowing what to say to such a dry response. “Is there a reason why you’re trying to make small talk right now?” he asked.

You shrugged in response.”What? I’m not allowed to have some chit-chat time with my own roommate?” Jungkook had a feeling that you were hiding something from him. He could tell by how tense your facial expressions were and by how tense your shoulders were as well. Your lips were quivering out of apprehensiveness and you weren’t able to stop the constant tapping of your fingertips against the countertop table.

“Did you break something that belonged to me?” he asked you. A confused look was written across your face. “No? I just said that I’m trying to make some conversation with you.”

Jungkook huffed out a soft sigh. “Well, to be honest, I don’t really want to be having small talk with you right now. I’m not really that kind of person.” He informed you. Normally, what he said would have offended you greatly but your heart was soaring because Jungkook just shared with you about a personal information of his. He told you something interesting about him for once. He doesn’t like small talk. Noted.

“Great, because neither do I!” you admit back, nervously. Jungkook was growing to be even more bothered with you and with this conversation. He was getting ready to just excuse himself and hide inside his room but you had beaten him to it.

“Have you thought of switching to being an animation major yet?” you asked abruptly.

Jungkook shrugged as a response. “Well, you should consider joining this department that Konkuk offers: the department of film and animation. It’s a really good program!” you suggested him, flashing a grin. He couldn’t help but to laugh at your nervous stance. So this was what you were so nervous to ask me. He laughed to himself some more. He took another glance at your anxious body language; all because you were just scared to talk to him about this program. Cute.

“I’ve already heard of it. I researched it too and all that. It’s decent enough for me to get in easily. I don’t know about you, though,” he teased you, causing you to flash him a scowl. “How did you even know about that program?” Jungkook asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

“I’m just trying to find some majors or classes that I can take for a certain subject that I’m interested in, that’s all.” Jungkook gave you a suspicious look. It wasn’t that he cared enough to wonder what major you were thinking of pursuing in, but he was confused as to why you would even try to hide it in the first place.

“Just tell me what major you’re thinking of, ___.” Jungkook rushed.

You sighed, unsure and nervous of telling him. It’s nothing to be embarrassed of, right? Jungkook surly wasn’t afraid to tell you his thoughts too. It was the least that you could do, right?

“I want to do screenwriting.”

Jungkook stared at you, unable to say anything. He couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of you writing television shows or movies or just writing anything at all, period. You’ve never shown or hinted any signs of you having an interest in writing or creating scripts.

“Screenwriting.” is all he says to you. You nod your head. “Do you even write?” he asks suddenly.

“I-I mean, I used to do it a lot when I was younger.” “Younger? So you haven’t done anything since?” Jungkook interrupted. You looked down at your socks, not knowing what to say back.

“I’m not trying to discourage you but you need to be realistic about these sort of things. You can’t just suddenly decide to switch your major to something that you haven’t even considered or studied about in years. You should do some research and ask people around the department of what it even takes to be a screenwriter and what it takes to study screenwriting.” Jungkook advised to you. What caught you off guard was that he didn’t say it to you with attitude or even in a condescending way. He just told you his opinion.

Normally you would be annoyed with what Jungkook had said to you but you couldn’t help but to agree with him. You needed to really confirm with yourself that this is what you really want to do with your life.

“How did you know that you wanted to be an animator?” you croaked out.

“Simple. I know I’m good at it, I know I can do it, and I know that it makes me happy. I know that I’ll die happy doing my dream job,” Jungkook took a step closer to you and huffed out a soft sigh. “The key is confidence within yourself, ___. Confidence that you know that you can tackle this.” His eyes were piercing deeply into yours. His brown specks glistening from the reflection of the ceiling lights. He looked so good standing right in front of you. His stern glare made his soft, plump pink lips be pursed ito a thin line. The way that you were just one step closer to wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his lips down onto yours -- the urge was just too strong.

You managed to keep your eyes locked on his, lasering your stare deeply. “Well, if you know that you’re so good at it, then why won’t you just change your major already?” you shot back. Jungkook opens his lips to say something but nothing comes out.

“Guess you’re not as confident as you make yourself out to be.” you smile teasingly at him. If Jungkook was bothered with what you said, he was doing a great job at not showing it. Suddenly his serious gaze turned into a melancholy demeanor. “You have a point.” he admits.

As much as you had badly wanted to shout out “I told you so” to Jungkook, you simply couldn’t but feel concerned as to where his sudden mood shift came from. “What?”

“I said, __, you have a point.” he said monotonically. “Surprisingly enough, you said something that’s making me think analytically.” he rolls his eyes, and pokes his tongue into one of his cheeks.

“You’re annoyingly...quick-witted,” Jungkook stays silent for a moment.

“Is it normal to be afraid of doing something out of the ordinary? Is it normal to be afraid of doing something you have never done before? The thought of just...doing something so out of the norm is just fucking gut-wrenching to me.” Jungkook says softly. You listened to him patiently.

“It doesn’t sound like such a big deal when you really think about: deciding whether or not to major in something I’m passionate in or something that my mother is passionate in me doing. It’s like...I can just do whatever the fuck I want and she has no other choice but to get over it one day. But it’s really not that easy for me. I’d rather be an engineer for the rest of my life if it means that I can get to hear my mom say that she was proud of me for once in my life.” Jungkook continued. He stopped himself from rambling and caught a quick glance at you. You were just listening to him. You didn’t look annoyed or bored of his mini vent. You were paying attention to him, you were hearing him out. You were letting him pour his feelings out to you. You were radiating such a soft and comfortable ambiance to him that he didn’t even realize how easily he was able to just say all this to you. Jungkook was starting to feel uncomfortable at the though of being comfortable.

“Do you want me to give my advice real quick?” you asked suddenly. He nodded. “Just be undecided for the time being. I feel like you shouldn’t just impulsively switch if you aren’t 100% comfortable or confident with your decision. There’s no harm in being undecided. It’s normal to be unsure of yourself with what you want and with what you need. You should just take some time with yourself to think things through in order to truly understand what you want. It’s okay to be a little confused right now. I feel like now is the right time and place and age to be confused.”

Jungkook listened to you seriously. He took you seriously and he took your advice seriously. It was the very first time that he was beginning to view you in a different perspective. He was beginning to see another side of you. Jungkook couldn’t help to admit that you had said just the right words that he needed to hear. That what he was feeling is okay.

“Why is it that you’re not as annoying to talk whenever we have such serious talks like this?” he smirks down at you. You gave him your best fake-offended look. “You judge me too harshly, Jungkook.”

Jungkook grew a genuine smile onto his face. And so did you.

. . .

“Uno!” Taehyung belted out, as he tossed his card into the pile of the others. “Fuck you, man.” Jimin cursed at him, angrily throwing his cards on the carpet. You groaned in annoyance, after losing again for the fifth time tonight. Games of any kind were never in your favor.

“Okay, now can we order some food please? I’m starving.” Jimin whined, as he rubbed his growling stomach. “Yeah, me too.” you agreed. You and Jimin were giving Taehyung a look that was the equivalent of giving puppy dog eyes, silently begging him to buy some food.

“Ugh, you two are so whiny,” Taehyung sneered. “What do you guys want to eat?” “Fried chicken.” Jungkook spoke up out of nowhere. “Yes, chicken please!” Jimin agreed.

Taehyung didn’t say anything as he gave all three of you and annoyed glare. He dialed his favorite fried chicken place as he walked off into the kitchen. You snorted at Taehyung’s fake anger because you already knew that deep down, Taehyung really didn’t mind to get dinner for you guys.

“Any luck on your apartment hunting, Jimin?” Jungkook asked him. “Eh, I haven’t really been apartment hunting that much. I know I need to though. I’ve been smooching off on you guys for too long now.” You gently slapped Jimin’s shoulder.

“Hey! You can live here for as long as you need to, Jimin. I love having you around.”

“As much as I love living with you all, I simply cannot stay here any longer. The guilt is eating me up alive.”

Jungkook playfully shoved Jimin. “If we could turn this living room into your new bedroom just so you can live with us permanently, you know that we would.”

“Don’t make me sad, Kook.” Jimin warned. Jungkook smiled at him and went back to shuffling the cards into the deck. “I’m guessing we’re done playing then.” Jimin presumed. “We’ve played like 8 rounds of this fucking game, we better be done. My attention span can’t handle another round.” you sighed hard, running your fingers through your hair.

“Don’t worry, ___, we’re done playing Uno for tonight,” Taehyung said, reappearing back to the living room. “We can all just chill for a bit while waiting for the chicken to deliver.” Everyone agreed and all hopped back onto the couch. There was a bit of an uncomfortable silence settling between the four of you.

Taehyung darted his eyes between you, Jimin and Jungkook.

“I have something to tell you guys.” Taehyung said abruptly. All three of your heads immediately snapped to gain his attention. You all looked at Taehyung’s beady honey brown eyes with anticipation.

“So, remember how I had submitted my self-made film to that contest from awhile back?” Only you and Jungkook had nodded in response. Jimin looked between the two of you, in confusion, and responded back with a shrug.

“Well...I heard back from them this morning,” The three of you leaned in closer to him, desperately waiting for Taehyung to finish his sentence.

“And?” You asked.

Taehyung had an indescribable look on his face. It was a very intense bittersweet appearance plastered on him. “And…,”

“I got selected to be one of the finalists.” Taehyung finally announced. You immediately jumped into the air and squealed. You didn’t hesitate to run straight into him and suffocate him in inside your arms.

“No freaking way, Tae! What the fuck?!” was all you could manage to say. Suddenly, you felt another body wrap around behind your back, with their arms interlocking both you and Taehyung’s bodies together. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about but I’m so proud of you!” Jimin,the one that was wrapping you and Taehyung together, yelled over your squealing.

Taehyung couldn’t help but beam widely and laugh at the both of your reactions.

“Taehyung, you’re so amazing! There is seriously nothing that you can’t do.” you squished Taehyung even harder, causing him to laugh out loud from the sudden pressure.

Jimin finally released the two of you from his embrace, stepping back to watch Taehyung smile and laugh from the love he’s receiving.

Jungkook finally stood up from the couch and walked over to his brother. You were still squeezing Taehyung, unable to release him from the shackles of your arms.

Jungkook took a quick glance at you and your wide grin that seemed to have been glued onto your face for five minutes straight. “How am I gonna be able to congratulate you with this thing wrapped all around you?” Jungkook sneered, causing Jimin and Taehyung to chuckle.

“___, enough already. You’re causing Tae to turn blue.” Jimin yanked you off from Taehyung’s warm body and pulled you next to him instead.

Jungkook approached his brother and patted on his shoulder, approvingly. “I’m not surprised, hyung. This is well deserved.” Jungkook grinned at his older brother. Taehyung grinned back at him, with possible tears welling up in his eyes. “Nevermind, you’re about to cry.” Jungkook looked disgusted and backed away from him, causing snorting to erupt from Jimin. “No idea that that Tae was the crying type.” you teased Taehyung. Taehyung embarrassedly dabbed his eyes and ran his fingers through hair nervously.

“If you guys are done bullying me, I can tell you when the date of the film festival is.” This caused both you and Jimin to shut up. “So, it’s like tonight.” he shyly admits. “Annoying,” Jungkook muttered under his breath. “Why would you announce this last minute? I have an exam to study for.” Jungkook continued, raising a voice a bit. Taehyung went from nervously ruffling his hair to nervously scratching the back of his neck. “I thought it would be cool to dramatically say the news.” He pouted slightly.

Jimin clicked his teeth and patted his hands onto Taehyung’s shoulder loudly. “Who cares about that nerd. I am so down to go celebrate your work tonight!” Jimin encouraged. You took a quick glance at Jungkook after Jimin’s “nerd” comment and he just smirked and rolled his eyes.

You walked back up to Taehyung and grabbed his hands. “I’m with Jimin! I also have some stuff to do for but its not as important as watching your hard work, Tae.” you grinned up at him. Taehyung smiled back at you and Jimin. His eyes went back to Jungkook’s annoyed face. “Kook, can you please consider joining us tonight?” Taehyung pleaded his little brother. Jungkook groaned and tilted his back, clenching his jaw in even more annoyance. “You know I hate last minute plans.” “Oh come on, live a little. Your exam isn’t even until next week, I don’t know why you wanna study so early.” Jimin scolded the young boy. Jungkook pressed his thin lips in a straight line, being left horribly speechless. You and Taehyung snorted quietly. “Whatever.” was all Jungkook mumbled. The three hopped over to Jungkook and jumped together out of happiness; only annoying Jungkook even more :)

. . .

“Hurry up, __!” Jimin called out to you from your room. “I’m coming!” You yelled back. You were putting on the final touches to your outfit; accessorizing your Maveric Fresh goth mesh black long sleeve mini dress with your silver stud earrings and your favorite statement silver necklace and rings.

You blended your lipstick color by dabbing your fingers softly on your plush lips one last time before finally grabbing your purse and leaving. The festival required a “fancy” dress code, leaving you excited yet nervous because it was the first time that the boys would be seeing you outside of your usual sweats and hoodies. You entered the doorway where the three boys were waiting for you. They were in the middle of a conversation until your soft “I’m ready” snapped them out of their chat.

Immediately, Jimin whistled at you and grinned. “Okay, sexy mama!” You visibly cringed and laughed awkwardly. “Please don’t ever call me that again.”

From the moment Taehyung laid his eyes on you, he could not breathe. He could not stop staring at you. It felt as if time had stopped for a brief second. For the first time ever, Taehyung had begun seeing you as a woman rather than just a friend. And he didn’t not like it. So pretty… He thought to himself. His eyes studied you everywhere: from your head, to your slightly exposed breasts, all the way down to your black strappy heels. “You look great, ___.” He finally said. You blush and smile at him. “Thanks, Tae.”

You had slowly slurred your eyes over at Jungkook to see if he was possibly giving you a mocking glare or rolling his eyes at you. But you were surprised to catch his eyes glued onto you, with a clenched jaw. It looked almost as if he was upset with you. His stare made you nervous–in an anxious way– and you immediately darted your eyes away from him. “Let’s get going.” Taehyung spoke up, and opened the front door, letting his three roommates go in front of him first.

The commute to the film festival was about thirty minutes long. Throughout the bus ride there, you and Jimin sat next together and took turns sharing about your childhood history, what high school was like and how stupid college is. You were surprised that a below average student like you could relate to Jimin’s 4.0-perfect-student personality and attitude towards school.

Taehyung and Jungkook sat next to each other, sitting right behind you and Jimin, and sat in complete yet comfortable but also slightly uncomfortable silence the entire time.

The bus finally stopped at the location where the film festival was located at, and the four of you hopped out of the bus. “Wow..” Taehyung’s eyes glimmered around the festival. The sky was transitioning to a beautifully orangish-pink sunset, and the large green landscape was sprinkled with white fairy lights strung all around; there were rows of black lawn chairs organized, a large podium and stage built, and right behind it was a large projector screen that will be showcasing the nominee’s short films. Behind the lawn chairs were a large table full of champagne glasses and bottles, and pots full of food that Taehyung assumes will be provided for all guests and nominees.

“I can’t believe I get to be here.” Taehyung grins widely to himself. Jimin looks towards his best friends and rubs his back. “We’re all so proud of you,” He commended. “Let’s go find our seats.” Jimin suggested. The four of you walked down the lawn and were welcomed by the sights of other well dressed men and women, the sips and clinks of champagne and the bottles.

“Want me to get you a drink?” Taehyung whispered to you. You perked up and nodded hard. “Cool, I’ll be right back.” Taehyung smiled back at you and walked to the champagne table. “Wow, he didn’t even bother asking us if Kook and I wanted some.” Jimin scoffed, causing you to giggle. “I’ll go with him to get some for you guys.” You said. You were about to turn around and follow Taehyung but Jimin stopped you. “No, it’s fine. I’ll go and and yell at him and then get some for me and Kook.” He half-jokes and jogged ahead. You chuckled to yourself, shaking your head at Jimin’s cute fake jealousy.

It was just you and Jungkook for now. You turned to him and decided to fully soak in how he looked: he was wearing a white button up shirt but he decided to fucking leave the top button unbuttoned, exposing the top part of his chest. He had on a black suit on top with matching black bottoms and black dress shoes. His hair was styled into curtains. He looked gorgeous. Gorgeous was not even a strong enough word to express how good he looked. Gorgeous was an insult.

“You look great.” You managed to squeak out. His eyes bored into yours. He didn’t say anything for a quick second. “You do too.” He said back. Your cheeks immediately got hot, your chest began to burn. Taehyung and Jimin returned with your champagne. “Here you go, m’lady.” Taehyung handed you your glass. You could only just nod to him as a thank you because Jungkook’s very first compliment to you had you speechless.

The fairy lights began to dimmer down. “Come on, the festival is about to start!” Jimin dragged you and Taehyung’s wrists with both of your hands and Jungkook slowly followed after you guys.

Taehyung sat down first, with you following sitting next to him, Jungkook sitting next to you, and Jimin sitting–well–next to Jungkook.

The festival commences at last.

. . .

It has been an hour since the festival has started. Jimin is lowkey bored. Actually, he is highkey bored. He just wants Taehyung to win his award and go party. After the film festival, there is a Halloween party happening later at night. Jimin is thinking nonstop about all the booze he’s gonna drink, all the girls he’s gonna dance with, and the lucky girl he gets to fuck their brains out all night with.

He begins to wander his eyes around the place. Hm, they sure did decorate the place pretty nicely. I really want some more champagne though. He sighs to himself as he fights his urge to get up and chug down his fourth champagne glass of tonight. As he continues to look around the place, blocking out the host’s loud and monotone voice, his sights catches something quite typical.

Taehyung has his eyes glued onto you. My god, he is down so bad for her. When will he accept that?

Jimin smirks at the sight of his best friend practically drooling all over you, while you continue to remain oblivious.

Tae needs to get a fucking grip. How is he focusing on ___ and not on his special night? I mean she does look really hot tonight. Who wouldn’t want to look at her. Poor __. She is so oblivious to her gorgeous sight.

Jimin finally decides to get up and get his next champagne. The waiter hands him his glass. Jimin decides to stand next to the table for a little while because he knows he’s going to need his next one in just a few more seconds.

His eyes catch to Jungkook standing on the far other side from him, where the restrooms were. He too was also just standing where he was, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, and looking straight ahead to the short film that was playing. Jimin was about to walk towards him until,

Until he noticed that Jungkook’s eyes were not at the short film. His eyes were angled a little more downwards.

Where the audience is. It looked like he was looking where you and Taehyung were sitting. Almost looked as if he was staring at where you were sitting.

Why does it look like Jungkook is staring at you?

Jimin’s brows furrowed in confusion. Is Jungkook staring at you? Why hasn’t his eyes moved away from your sight? It’s been minutes.

Maybe something was up with him. Jimin decided to stroll towards. Jungkook perked up and his eyes were shot wide open. He looked as if he was caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing. “What are you doing watching the film from here? Let’s go sit back down.” Jimin nudged Jungkook in his ribs. “Oh yeah. The view is just nicer from here.” he assured. “Mm.” was all Jimin could say.

The two of them walked back to their seats. For the remaining of the night, Jimin had not caught Jungkook looking towards anywhere else but the screen.

It was finally time to announce the winners of each film category. Taehyung’s category was next: Best New Filmmaker. The winner for the Best Comedy Film was announced. Now for Taehyung’s time.

He was up on the stage next to the other nominees for the category. All four nominees looked sick, excited, anxious, and yet also showing no emotion at the same time.

“God, I’m so nervous for him.” Jimin mumbled to himself but both you and Jungkook could hear him.

“The winner of the best new filmmaker award is awarded to the artist that showed the most daring, fresh storyline and shows the most promising future career of a successful South Korean filmmaker and that he believe will leave an impact in Korean cinema history.” The host begins.

“The winner..of the best new filmmaker goes to,”

You immediately, without any hesitation, clutch your hands tightly around one of Jungkook’s hands. You knew that you should not be doing this. Jungkook might be disgusted and scared. But you didn't care..at least for right now. This is Taehyung’s make it or break it moment. You were scared shitless for him.

“...Kim Taehyung.” He announces.

You instantly squeal, scream and jump for Taehyung. You were probably the loudest cheer of tonight. Taehyung humbly smiles and walks to his award. He grabs his trophy and bows to the host.

You were so happy and full of dopamine rushing to your body that you couldn’t help but to hug Jungkook and jump as you hugged him. Jungkook is immediately caught off guard by your sudden embrace. He and Jimin give each other a weirded out look but Jimin looked way more amused. Jungkook awkwardly hugged you back, patting your back. “S-sorry.” you managed to pull yourself away from the hug and sit back down to your seat. Jungkook tried to reassure you that it was fine but Taehyung returned back to his seat. You went from hugging Jungkook to embracing, engulfing, swallowing Taehyung into your arms. “I am so freaking proud of you, Tae!” you congratulate him, squeezing him tightly. Taehyung couldn’t help but to melt himself into your strong embrace. It felt good to be hugged by you. Not just good but it felt delicious to him. “Thank you so much, ___”.

Jungkook felt as if he was intruding in an intimate moment by the way Taehyung was practically sewed into your body with the way he was hugging you. It seemed as if you had tried to stop embracing him but Taehyung kept you in place, erupting a small giggle from you. Jungkook felt odd seeing the two of you like that. He can’t help but to continuously assume that Taehyung is just stringing you along once more.

“Come on, can we go party now?” Jimin whined. His whining ceased yours and Taehyung’s hug. “We still have the last two big awards left, Chim; film of the year and filmmaker of the year.” Taehyung whined back. “Since you’re making us stay for the entire event, I’m making you buy all the booze that we’re bringing to the Halloween party.” Taehyung half scoffed and chuckled. “Wow, making the ‘best new filmmaker’ buy you booze? This is Taehyung-phobic.” Taehyung said, causing you to cackle and playfully slap his chest.

Jungkook noticed how naturally physical you and Taehyung are with each other. It almost seemed as if you were crushing on his brother and not him anymore. And for some selfish reason, Jungkook didn’t like that he was losing one of his longtime admirers.

. . .

The four of you had finally arrived to Namjoon’s house aka his frat house, which was where the Halloween party was located at. Namjoon is a close friend of Taehyung and Jimin, and Namjoon also happened to be friendly with Yoongi as well. Usually for some dumb reason, guests would have to pay to enter a frat party but since Namjoon was the president of his frat and considered Taehyung, Jimin, and Yoongi as one of his closest friends, he always lets them and their guests enter his frat parties free of charge.

Tonight, you were dressed up as Velma from Scooby Doo. Taehyung decided last minute to be The Joker. Jimin was dressed up as a Greaser and Jungkook decided to be plain and dress up as a Scientist. Jungkook had the large round glasse, white lab coat and wearing a suit underneath his coat.

“You’re here!” Hoseok ran up to you and the three other boys, with Yoongi following right behind him. You laughed in adoration at the couple’s matching costumes. “Are you guys seriously Team Rocket from Pokemon?” You asked. “The one and only! I even spray painted my hair red and Yoongi’s blue to get the look right!” Hoseok grinned proudly. “You two look great.” Taehyung chimed in. Hoseok smiled at his compliment and gave you an approving wink. You rolled your eyes at him, unamused and yet unsurprised at Hoseok continuing with his bewildered thoughts of Taehyung and you liking each other. As if.

“Can I go get you a drink, __?” Taehyung asked you. “Oh, uhm, sure!” You agreed, nodding your head slowly. “What about you, Kook?” Taehyung looked over to his younger brother. “I’m good for now, thanks.” He said monotonically. “Alrighty then..” Taehyung walked over to the drinks. “Where’s Jimin?” you asked your group, looking around for him.

“Uh, is that him already grinding behind some random girl’s ass?” Yoongi pointed out at Jimin, basically airfucking a girl already within the first five minutes of you guys arriving to the party. “Classic Jimin.” Jungkook muttered to himself.

“Yoongi and I are gonna go dance! Meet us on the dancefloor with Taehyung when he comes back with your drinks, __.” Hoseok suggested, already dragging his boyfriend by his wrist into the crowd of people. It was just you and Jungkook left. You felt awkward—as always— and shifted your body uncomfortably.

You tried to look at Jungkook multiple times but he is just so fucking intimidating. You managed to squeak out a few words to him. “Nice music playing, huh?” Jungkook turned his head towards you with unreadable expression plastered on his face. “I guess.” he mumbled. You didn’t know what to say back so you just kept quiet.

Jungkook peered his eyes over to your costume to get a good glance at you. You were wearing an orange cropped sweater with a burgundy red mini skirt and paired with some Doc Marten loafers and..fuck…you’re wearing white fishnets underneath that skirt of yours. Jungkook couldn’t understand how perfectly you could pull off an innocent yet not-so-innocent exterior of yours. You could pull off both at the same time. Your large, thick black squared glasses made you look perfectly like Velma and like a cute nerd at the same time. He couldn’t stand you.

“What made you decide to dress up as Velma?” Jungkook tried to make conversation with you. You snapped your head up to look at him and smiled softly at his question. “I didn’t really feel like buying an actual Halloween costume and I already had the clothes that would allow me to dress up as Velma so…yea.” You finished awkwardly. “‘So…yeah.’” Jungkook mocked you. “Shut up.” you looked away from him, trying to hide your embarrassment from him. Jungkook snickered quietly to himself.

“Okay, I got you something sweet, __. It’s Mikes Hard Lemonade.” Taehyung returned with a grin on his face as he handed you the bottle. “Thanks Tae!” you grinned back at him, taking a few sips of the drink. “Kook, I know you didn’t want anything to drink but I got you a shot just in case.” Jungkook looked at Taehyung, and hesitantly took the shot glass from him. “Thanks, bro.” he held his shot glass up to the air, as if he was doing cheers, and took a very miniscule sip from the tequila.

“Tae, do you wanna go dance? Hoseok invited us to dance after you came back.” you yelled over the music getting louder and louder. Taehyung jumped at the suggestion and immediately held onto your wrist. “Let’s go! Be right back, Kook!” Taehyung dragged you into the crowd of people jumping to the music. You tried to look back at Jungkook, but the crowd was blocking your view. You kind of felt bad that Jungkook was left alone. I’m sure he’ll find something to do.

The entire night, you were just dancing your ass off with your four new best friends: Tae, Hoseok, Yoongi, and Jimin. You were typically the shy type and refused to dance around anyone, not even with Jihyo and Chaeyoung. But the boys brought out the inner child in you. You felt as if you could be your true self with them and they would still gas you up regardless. At this point, you were also pretty tipsy too. You downed another bottle of Mike’s, some shots, and another bottle of soju.

Jimin kept eyeing you the entire night, wondering if he should make a move on you and try to dance with you one-on-one. But he was thinking of doing so to see if Taehyung would get jealous. Jimin loved to mess with his best friend but he also just wanted more confirmation to see if Taehyung was actually into you or not. Jimin shimmied his way closer to you and tried to grind onto you as respectfully as possible.

“Are you trying to make me as another one of your grinding victims tonight?” you joked to him. Jimin just laughed off your joke and got closer to you. “Would you oblige or not?” He whispered against your ear, causing goosebumps to rise up and down your skin. “God, Jimin, what are you doing?” you mumbled to him so that only he could hear.

Before Jimin answered, he took a quick glance at Taehyung. He was violently eyeing the two of you and his jaw was clenched hard. Taehyung took a hard swig from his soju bottle while eyeing you both at the same time. Tae sucks at hiding his emotions Jimin thought to himself.

“Let’s just say that I’ve been noticing a guy that has been staring at you all night and I wanna push his buttons a little bit. Just for funsies.” Jimin replies back to you. You do a quick 360 around the room to look for the guy Jimin was talking about. “Who? Where? When?” you ask fervently, causing Jimin to giggle. “You know that Namjoon guy?” he half-lied. “Yeah, he’s the president of this frat.”

“Well, he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you all night.” Jimin wasn’t necessarily lying. He’s noticed that majority of the guys at the party have glanced at you at least twice. Especially Namjoon. He’s been eye-fucking you all night. But he’s been eye-fucking almost every girl at this party.

“Namjoon is actually a close friend of me and Taehyung’s. Our dads all know each other. He grew up with us.” Jimin decided to toss in a little backstory to give Namjoon some credibility. “Oh.” you mumbled. “Want me to introduce you to him?” he asked, excited to see Taehyung explode from his jealousy. “Sure! He seems nice and it’s even better that he actually knows you guys too.” you agreed. Jimin took you to where Namjoon was and introduced both of you to each other. “You look gorgeous tonight, __”. Namjoon complimented. “Jinkies! Thank you, so do you.” you blushed. Jimin mentally slapped you for your cringey line. Namjoon laughed at your dumb joke. “Wanna dance?” he asked. Namjoon was an extremely attractive man and had the muscles of a Greek god. Coincidentally, he was literally dressed up as a Greek god for tonights. He has practically shirtless and had his nipples pierced. That’s so fucking hot, you mentally drooled to yourself.

Namjoon dragged you into the dancefloor and the two of you began to immerse yourselves into conversation.

Taehyung couldn’t help but to not take his eyes off you dancing with his friend. He felt uncomfortable seeing the way you laughed at whatever he was whispering into your ear. “It’s the fucking nipple piercings isn’t it?” Jimin reappeared out of nowhere, standing right behind his best friend. “Fuck dude, don’t scare me like that.” Taehyung hissed. “What? Can I not talk about Joon’s nipple piercings? Those are literal girl magnets. I should get them some day.” Jimin was basically talking to himself at this point because Taehyung has tuned him the fuck out.

Yoongi chuckled to himself, overhearing Jimin and Taehyung squabbling. “___ and that nipple pierced dude are kinda cute.” Yoongi said to Hoseok. Hoseok stopped dancing and took a look at you and Namjoon laughing and dancing together. Namjoon had his hands borderline touching your ass. “Seems like Taehyung can’t stand it though, do you see the way he is violently eyeing the two of them.” Hoseok smirked, seeing the obliviously jealous Taehyung staring. Yoongi was about to retaliate until he caught another person staring hard at you and Namjoon.

Jungkook was chugging down a bottle of soju while eyeing you and Namjoon at the same time. He had no readable expression on his face but it seemed as if he looked slightly…annoyed? Yoongi found the sight to be interesting since it was the first time he has noticed Jungkook acknowledging your existence and acknowledging you as a girl and not just as his annoying roommate.

“Hm.” Yoongi tried to mumble to himself but Hoseok overheard. “Hm what?” “Nothing, babe. I’m gonna go get another drink.” Yoongi walked off, smiling to himself.

. . .

You finished your dance with Namjoon awhile ago and you returned to being around your friends, this time with Jungkook included. He had finally joined the party after getting bored just standing by the entrance for an entire hour. Jungkook was slowly dancing to the beat of the song playing while you and Taehyung were jumping up and down like little kids high on sugar.

As you and Taehyung were dancing, a girl approached you three. She had dark brown hair and was dressed up as a Playboy bunny. She was also very extremely gorgeous. She approached Jungkook and did not hesitate to flirtatiously touch his arm. “Do you wanna dance, Doctor?” she asked Jungkook straightforwardly. Jungkook had his lips set in a straight line. You couldn’t help but to nosily watch the two.

“I’m drunk.” Jungkook simply said to the girl. You assumed this was his way of kindly rejecting her offer. The girl gave him an odd glance and nervously bit her lower lip. “Got it.” she simply said and walked away. Funny enough, she made her way to Jimin and was dancing with him.

“Dude! Why didn’t you dance with her, she was hot!?” Taehyung shouted at Jungkook. Jungkook simply shrugged off his brother’s words and sipped on his shot. “He can be so boring sometimes.” Taehyung said to you, causing a small giggle from you. “He was probably not into her mistaking him to be a doctor.” you said loud enough for Jungkook to hear. Taehyung snickered at your comment.

Taehyung was having a great time dancing with you. He decided to make use of his time with you and made sure you were going to have such a great time with him that you wouldn’t leave his side.

Save Your Tears by The Weeknd starts playing. The very high-energy song causes your tipsy self to go wild and your energy is reciprocated by Taehyung. You quickly take down a jello shot and spin around jumping to the song. “Wait, ___, you have a little something on your face.” Taehyung spun you around to face him. “What is it?” Taehyung chuckled seeing a red jello piece on the corner of your mouth. “Hold on, let me just pick at it real quick.”

Taehyung swiped off the jello from your lips with his thumb. He showed it to you and you began to cackle. “Sorry about that.” you blushed in embarrassment. “Don’t be.” Taehyung says and sucks off his jello from the thumb. Your eyes grew wide at the sight. He remained eye contact with you as he sucked it off his thumb. You had no idea what to do or feel. The moment felt like a draft just flew by you. Taehyung was about to say something before a random girl approached him and asked him to dance. She stood in between you and Taehyung, not giving you any attention at all.

You scoffed at her, hoping she heard. Not even his girl but if I was, that’s a bitch move you thought to yourself. Taehyung gave you an apologetic look. “I’ll be right back, ___!” Taehyung allowed the girl to drag him to the floor. To be honest, Taehyung didn’t want to dance with her and he just had plans on keeping you by his side for the rest of the night. However, he thought about how he didn’t want give off the impression that you and him were dating to other potential girls that would look his way. But something gnawed at his chest at the thought of leaving you alone. Leaving you alone means you were available. Leaving you alone means you were gonna run off for the rest of the night.

But why does he care? He’s dancing with a cute girl right in front of him and that’s all he should be focusing on right now.

Tipsy (borderline drunk) you decided that it would be fun to keep Jungkook company while Taehyung was off with that girl. “Can I dance with you?” you asked him. Jungkook was obviously out of it too, considering he decided to let alcohol accompany him as his date tonight. He nodded at you. “Having fun?” you asked him, talking loud over the music.

“I am, actually.” he admits. He gave you a lopsided smile, causing an instant warmth to your stomach. “That’s great to hear.” you smile back. The two of you are just swaying your bodies to the music.

“You seem to be popular with the men tonight.” Jungkook slurred. “What do you mean?” you slurred back. “First Namjoon, and now Taehyung. You’re boomeranging between the two.” Jungkook chuckles. For some reason, this bothers you. It’s almost as if Jungkook said it in a malicious tone. You decide to ignore it and continue swaying your body.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” Jungkook teases. You furrow your brows at him in annoyance. “I’m just dancing?”

“Dancing alone for once. Congrats.” he mumbles.

“What are you insinuating?” you bark at him, causing the boy to smirk.

“Can I not joke with you?” “Actually, no you can’t. We aren’t friendly enough to joke.” you snap.

If Jungkook was offended, he didn’t show it at all. “Seemed pretty friendly when you held my hand on the rollercoaster.” he teased again. You laugh in disbelief. “What, ar-are you just fucking forgetful or something? Weren’t you literally about to shit your pants on that stupid ride? I was preventing an accident.” you said back. This earned a chuckle from Jungkook.

He didn’t say anything after that though. “That’s what I thought. Pipe down.” you seethed in annoyance at him. It seems as if you and Jungkook keep forgetting that you cannot be around each other when the two of you are under the influence; world war 3 starts to happen every single time.

“Seeing you desperately jumping from guy to guy is embarrassing.” He states. You know he is trying to get under your skin. You know what he is trying to do. He thrives off of seeing you angry for some sinister reason. Why is that? “I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not gonna work on me.” You said in a low voice, as an attempt to calm yourself down.

“What are you talking about?” Jungkook asked knowingly. Riling you up like this was like a game for Jungkook. You can be so easy to piss off and the way your nose automatically scrunches furiously, hands shake, and face reddens was amusing to him. He loved knowing that he could push your buttons so easily. Knowing how happy-go-lucky you always are with everyone else, Jungkook liked knowing this angry side of you. He felt as if this side was reserved for him and for him only. Only he can pick on you. Only he can fluster you, make you shy, make you stutter when he’s around. He loves knowing how easily your emotions fold for him.

“Don’t fucking play dumb with me. You always act like a dickhead and pick on me whenever you’re drunk. Even when you’re sober too. Why can’t you ever just give me a break? I truly don’t even know what I see in you sometimes.” you spat out. The fact that you had hinted that you were still into him made your eyes immediately widen. No fucking way I said that right in front of him.

One of his eyebrows arched upwards, with a smirk complimenting it. “You must see a lot in me to keep liking me after all this time.”

Anger was boiling inside of you and you swear you could feel yourself sobering just by how embarrassed and irritated you are. You were done with this little game you had with Jungkook. One day he’s hot, next day he’s cold. One day he’s up, next day he’s down. You were tired of his mixed signals; either he was a friendly roommate with you or just a coldblooded asshole. There was no in between. You decided that as of this moment, you were done with Jungkook.

What was the point of wasting your energy, feelings, and thoughts over a guy who can’t even see you as a fucking human being with feelings? You knew you were wasting your time with Jungkook. It’s been years since you have had these pent up emotions for him. You were in love with the idea of him, not him truly. At least you think so. There were better guys out there right? Like Namjoon. The two of you had hit it off so well and you were enjoying your time dancing with him. There are also guys that are just as decent and respectful like Jimin, Hoseok, and even Taehyung.

Jungkook wasn’t worth your time.

“I’m done liking you, Jungkook.” you firmly said to the boy.

Jungkook’s eyes seemed to have darkened at your words. His eyes showed a mix of confusion and something else. But his face showed nothing. Pure nothingness. Just like how you knew how he felt towards you. Just nothing.

You walked past him, roughly brushing your shoulder against his arms. You needed a fucking break from him. You were making your way towards any restroom that you could find in this packed and sweaty frat house.

That was until you felt someone following behind you.

Unexpectedly, when you turned your body around you were met with Jungkook.

“Bullshit.” He simply said. Cocky as fuck.

“What is?” you asked, turning away from him as you went up the stairs to find a restroom.

“You really think you can just stop liking me like that? Like you really think emotions are just something you can turn off, like it’s a switch?”

You scoffed at his words. “What? You do the exact same thing. I’ve seen more emotions on a painting than I have seen on you.”

Jungkook had his tongue poking deep into his cheek. He knew that he was drunk and knew that he was growing to become an asshole minute by minute; as if he was a beast that would not stop growing.

All of a sudden, you and Jungkook had ran into Hoseok, Yoongi and Jimin walking down the stairs. “Oh hey ___ and Kook!” Jimin grinned at you both. “Hey.” You replied monotonically.

“You good, ___?” Hoseok asked with worryness in his voice.

“I’m fine.” you grimaced at the trio. Yoongi and Hoseok shared a confused look with each other. Jimin could tell something was up with Jungkook by the way his jaw was clenched.

“Are you sure?” Yoongi asked while darting his eyes back and forth between you and Jungkook.

“___’s upset because I pointed out how she was looking so desperate tonight.” Jungkook spoke. Your face froze and felt cold. The fucking audacity of him.

The three boys fell into an uncomfortable silence, not knowing what to say. “Please don’t listen to Jungkook. He’s just drunk and has nothing better to do than bother me. He’s just acting like a fucking loser. He is a loser.” You spat out, glaring at your friends.

“Um, __ do you maybe wanna go and get some air?” Hoseok asked, and ran his hands up and down on your arms. “I’m actually gonna go use the restroom. So if you guys just excuse me.” You began to walk up the stairs again until Jungkook just had to open up his mouth again.

“Be careful, ___. You don’t wanna run into another guy that you can grind yourself into. Don’t wanna give yourself a bad image now don’t you?” He taunted. He just keeps on going doesn’t he? He just keeps going on embarrassing you.

You were about to just walk away and not pay any attention to the useless words Jungkook was vomiting out until you suddenly remembered an extremely valuable item that would shut him the hell up.

You spun your body back around and faced towards Yoongi, Hoseok and Jimin. And gave Jungkook a sweet smile. “Funny how Jungkook wants to talk shit about me and act like he does no wrong when he is literally hiding a super dark secret from you guys.” You started out. The four boys all had a perplexed look on their faces.

You didn’t see Taehyung walking his way up

the stairs. He had finally found you after finishing his dance with the girl. He had seen you and Jungkook running off somewhere while he was in the middle of dancing and was trying to see if the two of you were okay. He saw you on the very top of the stairs looking below at Jungkook, Yoongi, Hoseok and Jimin.

You reached into your bag and took out your phone. You cracked open your phone case and slid out a small photo. The very photo Taehyung gave you as a manipulation tool to get Jungkook to tutor you for that one chemistry exam.

—

Taehyung catches up to you, breathless. “Why, what’s wrong?” You continue to run as fast you can. “I forgot that I had a fucking exam in 12 hours and I really need to study for it.” you explain to him.

“Shit, I’m sorry, __. I didn’t realize how much time we had spent just talking.” Taehyung apologizes. You just mutter an “it’s okay” and continue to speed back home.

A few minutes later, you arrive at the complex and hurry onto an elevator. “Do you need any help?” Taehyung offers. You shake your head. “No, I’m fine. This is something I have to deal with myself.”

Silence fills the elevator and it dings open onto your floor. You push past the slowly opening doors and rush to your place. You furiously key in the passcode and enter the apartment.

Taking off your shoes, you immediately stride towards your refrigerator and grab at least 3 cans of espresso to prepare yourself for the allnighter you’re about to pull.

“Thank you for today, Taehyung.” you give him a curt smile and begin to walk towards your room until Taehyung grabs your arm and stops you. “Wait a minute, I have an idea.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. He opens it and pulls out a small picture, and places it onto your palm. You looked down at your hand and examined the photo Taehyung had rested upon your hand.

You immediately snort at the sight of the picture on your palm. You shake violently with laughter and place your hand over your mouth. It was a picture of a much younger version of Jungkook wearing a pink, fluffy dress. He had on a swatch of bold, red lipstick applied messily all over the outline of his lips and his hair was full of sparkly clips all around his head.

“No way.” you breathe out, snorting even harder. “We made a bet when we were younger and he lost, so this was his punishment.” Taehyung explains. You toss your head back in laughter. “Wait, but why are you giving this to me?” you ask.

Taehyung looks as if he’s about to tell you a top secret. He leans against your ear and whispers,

“I want you to threaten Jungkook with this picture to help you study for the exam.” Your eyes widen at the idea.

“You’re evil, Taehyung.” you smirk. Taehyung laughs darkly. “Now, go. Don’t waste anymore time.”

—

“It seems as if Jungkook had a crossdresser era.” You shoved the photo in front of the three guys. Jimin did not hesitate to scream from laughter. Hoseok snorted loudly and Yoongi’s upper lip twitched.

“No fucking way! Kook, is this actually you?” Jimin twirled to look at him. Jungkook's face turned to a bright pink color and if it wasn’t possible enough, his jaw clenched even tighter.

“And since Jungkook wants to slut shame me so bad, let’s see how he would feel if I did this.” You strutted in front of him,

“___, stop, what are you doi-“

And shoved his pants down to his ankles.

He was completely mortified, speechless, furious, and if there was a word that was a combination of all three of those emotions, he was feeling that times ten.

This time Jimin, Hoseok, and Yoongi laughed all

together when they all saw Jungkook’s Rilakumma themed boxers. You had to stifle back a laugh yourself, and so did Taehyung.

He roughly brought his pants back up and buckled them as tight as he could. He looked at the way you were finding this situation so humorously.

“Doesn’t feel too great does it, ‘Kook’?” You enunciated ‘Kook’ so annoyingly and Jungkook felt as if steam was blowing out of his ears. “I’ll see you guys after I use the restroom.” You tell the three and made your way into a random hallway, looking for a bathroom.

Jungkook didn’t hesitate to follow you, pushing himself through the couple and Jimin. He gripped onto your wrists and pulled you into the first room he could find.

Taehyung watched the two of you intently, running off together. He felt dubious seeing the two of you on your own together.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You hissed at Jungkook. He brought you into a random empty bedroom. Jungkook began marching around the room back and forth, trying to collect his words together.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” You teased.

Jungkook gave you an intimidating glare. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He starts off.

“What’s wrong with me? What is wrong with you? You basically fucking slut shamed me in front of our friends?!”

“You did not have to embarrass me like that, __.” Jungkook continues to march around back and forth.

“I actually don’t care, Jungkook. You don’t seem to give a single any fucks about how you constantly treat me so why should I suddenly feel bad for you after what I did? Get a grip.”

“What are you doing this for? To get over me? Is this what you’re doing?” Jungkook stopped marching and approached himself. Your back was against the door.

“Again with this. I am over you, Jeon Jungkook. I have moved on from my high school crush on you a long time ago. All feelings that you think I have left for you are gone.” You looked deeply into his black doe eyes. You knew you weren’t fully over him, obviously, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Jungkook’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Why don’t I believe you?” His voice lowered as he said that. He took a few steps closer to you.

“Your pride is preventing you from seeing things clearly.”

Jungkook had the audacity to come even closer to you. Your back firmly flat on the door and you felt as if you were being suffocated by his presence.

“Say it again.”

“Say what again?”

“That you’re over me.”

You scoffed in front of his face. “I’m over you, Jeon Jungkook.”

You looked at him dead in the eyes. Trying to get him to be convinced by your words.

“And I think it would be best if we were to firmly remain as just roommates and nothing else.” You continued. You felt your heart breaking. You knew this distance from Jungkook would hurt like hell. He’s been your longtime crush for so long, it would be uncomfortable for you to just cut off complete contact with him.

“Is that what you want?” He muttered under his breath.

You nodded slowly. The both of you kept strong eye contact with each other. His eyes softened but it softened in a hard way, ironically.

Jungkook opens his mouth and says,

“Would you be opposed if I were to kiss you right now?”

Your heart dropped so low that you could feel down to your toes.

“Wha-“

Jungkook leans in and brushes his lips on yours. “If you want me to stop then say it. And I’ll leave.”

You felt as if your chest was burning and aching. Your chest was heaving up and down at the contact of Jungkook, the boy you've been in love with for years, asking for your permission to kiss you.

Jungkook smirked at your silence. “That’s what I thought.” He whispered.

He closes the gap between you both and hungrily kisses you.

You could immediately tell a moan wanted to come up your throat at the taste of Jungkook on your lips.

Embarrassingly, you did not hesitate to kiss him back.

Jungkook cupped your face roughly with his veiny, big hands.

His kiss was getting rougher and hungrier each second. You mindlessly nibbed at his lower lip, earning a groan from him. His groaning was enough for you to feel your lower area purr for him.

He began trailing wet sloppy kisses from the corner of your lips and going all the way down to your neck. He began leaving love bites on you, and you were trying so hard to not moan for him.

You didn’t want him to know how good he was at kissing, and how good he was at making you feel so fucking horny. “Fuck, your lips taste so good.” Jungkook muffled while giving you deep hickies all over your neck. It was as if he was trying to mark his territory on you.

His words finally earned a moan from you, not being able to hold it in anymore. “Kiss me more.” You demanded.

He continues kissing your neck. “Kiss me more, what?”

You sighed annoyingly. Even as he’s kissing you, he is still so aggravating. “Not going to say that. You don’t deserve it.” You fight back.

For some reason, your retaliation turns on Jungkook. He loved how you don’t hesitate to fight back. The banter you two share, your feisty relationship with each other, he enjoyed every single second of it.

He kissed you back, not caring to retaliate further with you. He was surprised with how soft and tasty your lips were.

“You still want to stop liking me?” He said in between kisses. “Mhm.” You kissed him harder. “Why are you kissing me then, ___?”

Jungkook rarely says your name. But when he does, it sends butterflies throughout your entire body. You could feel your underwear dampen.

“I can’t have fun?” You say back.

Jungkook slips his tongue inside your mouth. He is practically shoving it into your throat and you happily obliged. You allowed his tongue to explore every single inch of your mouth.

You hesitantly stuck your tongue inside his, earning another groan from him. You were too shy to kiss all the crevices of his perfect mouth.

You’ve only kissed one person in your entire life. It was back in high school and you, Jihyo, and Chaeyoung were playing truth or dare in a circle with your other classmates when it was past schooltime. You dared to kiss the guy you found the cutest in the circle. You kissed Kim Seokjin, the heartthrob of your class. It was probably the boldest move you have ever made. Seokjin was gorgeous and all but he couldn’t compare to Jungkook. You remembered wishing Jungkook was in your class so that he could’ve been in the circle and you would’ve kissed him.

And now here you are; making out sloppily and hungrily with Jeon Jungkook. You were sobered up at this point but you didn’t know if Jungkook was still out of it or not.

Jungkook snapped you out of your thoughts when he turned your body around without asking. Your face was pressed against the door. “God, these fucking tights on you.” Jungkook muttered under his breath.

He lifted your skirt up and began gently massaging your ass.

“You look so good in these tights, ___.” He whispered into your ear. He was grabbing handfuls of your ass, gripping them tightly. You let out a whine at his touch. He was gripping onto your cheeks as if they were trying to run away from him.

He began a new trail of kisses from your earlobes going all the way down to your neck, upper back, then middle of your back, lower back, and all the way down to your ass cheeks.

He groaned at the sight of you wearing a thong underneath your fishnet tights. He stared at your ass cheeks as if they were a treasure chest full of gold.

He started off with biting your cheeks softly, each bite getting soft moans from you. His nibbling turned into giving you more hickies. You hissed at the bittersweet pain. “Fuck, Jungkook.” You whispered to yourself

His hickies switched into slapping your ass cheeks. He admired the way they jiggled with each slap. He was adoring the red marks he was leaving all over you. He was obsessed with the way you moaned over the kisses and slapping he was giving you.

He reached down underneath your cheeks, right where he could see the back entrance of your labia.

“You’re fucking drenched, __. Fuck, I can see it from back here.” Jungkook moaned out at the sight. You could feel heat rising up to your cheeks from the embarrassment of Jungkook seeing the wet mess he caused.

“S-Shut up.” You croaked out. Jungkook smiled at your stutter. He looked back down at your wet entrance. He mewled at how good it looked and was desperate to know what your pussy tasted like.

“May I finger you?” He asked for your consent. Even when he’s a jackass 99 percent of the time, he is still generous with his touch.

You nodded in approval. Jungkook slapped your ass hard. “I need to hear you consent it.”

You gulped saliva down in horniness. “Yes, Jungkook. Finger me.”

He slapped your ass again, causing you to yelp. “Fuck!” You cried out.

“Finger me, what?” He tried again. You desperately wanted to feel any part of Jungkook inside of you. You had a feeling he wasn’t going to let this one go. So you swallowed your pride and begged out. “Finger me, please. Please.”

Jungkook did not hesitate to slide your thong to the side and opened your labias apart. He groaned at the sight of your glistening and dripping cunt. Your cunt was so perfectly gorgeous. Jungkook has never seen a pussy as gorgeous as yours. He inserted two fingers inside of you. You both gasped at the touch.

Your pussy was so warm and soft. You were so loose and eager for his touch, he could shove at least both of fists inside of you. That was how loose you were for him.

He decided to put in a third finger, and quickened his thrusts inside of you. You tried to cover your mouth to stop him from hearing you moan but fuck he was fingering you so good.

“Don’t hide your moans from me, __. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.” He demanded. He crouched up from his squat and continued to finger you hard as he rested his body against your back. He leaned back to whisper filthy words to you.

He uncovered your mouth with his one free hand and your moans erupted as soon he did so. “Fuck, you sound so pretty like that.” He praised.

His touch and words were beginning to make you feel dizzy from pleasure. “Fuck, Jungkook. Right there.” You nodded in pleasure.

“You’re such a fucking liar. I thought you were over me, huh? Why are you letting me finger your brains out right now?” He whispered. You were panting heavily at this point and could feel a sweat roll dripping down your head. Jungkook sucked on your earlobe as he continued to finger you hard.

“Oh shit, I’m gonna cum,” You warn him. This encourages him to continue his pace and attempts to deepen his fingers into your wet cunt.

“Fuck Jungkook, I’m-“

“Do you wanna cum for me? Do you want to cum all over my fucking fingers?” He says as he continues to bite your earlobe.

“Oh my fucking god, please.” Your voice shakes. You could feel your pussy clenching around his fingers and a tight knot was forming bigger each second in your abdomen.

You begged Jungkook to allow yourself to release all over him. “Please let me cum, holy fuck.”

Your precious begging was enough for him. His member was rock hard for you and he felt as if he could just cum inside of his pants just by your words and moans and the touch of your pussy.

“Cum for me, __.” He only needed to demand that from you once because as soon as he finished his sentence, you were releasing yourself all over him. In fact you were release turned into a squirting. You screamed in pleasure and euphoria from cumming all over the fingers of beautiful Jeon Jungkook.

“Holy shit, ___. You’re puddling all over me.” Jungkook was in awe at your liquidy mess.

Your eyeballs rolled all the way to the back of your head “F-fuuck.” You managed to croak out. Your chest was heaving extremely hard. You turned to face Jungkook and his lips were glistening pink and plump. His face was flushed. He looked so gorgeous and grossly sexy that you couldn’t help but to kiss him furiously.

He welcomed your kiss and picked you up. He pinned you against the door as he deepened the kiss, and wrapped your legs tightly around his waist.

“You cummed so good for me, ___.” He praised. You smiled small into the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck.

The orgasm you had was so strong that you almost said you loved him. Jungkook. Jungkook. Jungkook. His name was running circles all around your silly little head.

The aftercare Jungkook was giving was so opposite to his usual rough personality. The kisses downgraded into soft and intimate-like kisses. He gently dropped your legs back on the ground and softly held onto you as he kissed you.

Suddenly, he paused the kiss and stepped back away from you. Jungkook was just eyeing you, observing yourself and the situation. Your entire bottom half was clearly soaked and the poor random guy’s floor had a puddle stain.

His finger was dripping from your squirt still and some of your liquid got on his pants too. Jungkook had successfully prevented himself from cumming in his pants. However, he was dangerously close to jizzing himself. His pride wouldn’t allow himself to live knowing that he had cummed in his boxers just by fingering you and by kissing you. He wasn’t sixteen anymore, he thought to himself.

Jungkook looked around the room to look for anything to clean up the mess. He found a tissue box on the person’s nightstand. He grabbed the box and basically used up the entire box to clean you up and the floor.

You looked down at Jungkook squatting in front of you as he was cleaning you up. Your heart automatically fluttered at his aftercare gesture.

There was an uncomfortable silence and tension beginning to cloud the room. Is he regretting this? Is he embarrassed of what we did? Negative thoughts began swarming you. You could feel anxiety swallowing you whole and you just desperately needed Jungkook to say something. Anything.

After cleaning up the “spill”, he threw away the tissues along with the box. Jungkook was dreading to face you all of a sudden. It was as if he felt shy to be around you.

Jungkook’s silence was becoming too much for you. “What are you thinking about?” You decided to blurt out.

His eyes widened at your question. Licking his lips, furrowing his brows, and shifting his feet uncomfortably was Jungkook trying to stall his response.

“I don’t know what to think.” he replied honestly. The aftercare session allowed him to sober up and to fully absorb what had just happened between you both. He was drunk during the entire hookup.

“Right.” was all you could say back.

It wasn’t that Jungkook regretted what he did, he was just too fucking drunk to comprehend what he was actually doing. Why did he have the urge to kiss and finger you like that? What was it about you that made Jungkook so desperate to touch you like that?

“Let’s just forget this happened.” You suggested. He perked up at you, giving you a confused glance. “Why are you saying that?”

You wanted Jungkook to think that what happened meant nothing to you. Just like how you knew you meant nothing to him. You didn’t want him to know that you have only fallen harder for him and crave his kisses and touch more than you can believe. You didn’t want Jungkook to know that in fact do not regret what happened at all. Not even an ounce of regret. You don’t want him to break your heart even more. You don’t see this as you putting a wall up;

This is you giving Jungkook up.

“Because..like I said: I don’t have feelings for you anymore. This was just a mistake.”

Jungkook felt a sort of numbness to your words. He felt embarrassed, stupid, and suddenly began regretting the hookup as well. You made him feel all sorts of emotions. The most emotions he has ever felt since you moved in as his roommate.

“Let’s forget it then. Like you said…we are just roommates. I’m sorry.” His jaw clenched a bit but you couldn’t see that. All you could see was how he did not look pressed at all by your suggestion. He doesn’t seem to give a single fuck. How did so much happen in just under twenty minutes?

“Right,” You began. You readjusted your skirt and rubbed your neck. A pang of soreness shot through you. The hickies he left had stung so strongly.

“I’m leaving first.” Jungkook abruptly cleared his throat and opened the door first. He took one last glance at you. You were hoping that your broken heart wasn’t showing through your face.

He gave you a curt nod and closed the door, leaving you alone in a stranger’s bedroom.

Once you felt as if Jungkook was an earshot away, you immediately crouched down against a wall and cried your heart out.

You were not ready to let Jungkook go. But you had to. Why love a man that did not care to signify your existence?

Your sobbing had you coughing to catch your breath. Your vision was beyond blurred and your heart was hurting so badly. Your first hookup with the man you have been yearning over for years was like an addiction: It feels amazing at first but after some time passes by, it hurts. Full of disappointment. Full of guilt.

The door swung wide open. You looked up slowly and tried identifying who the mysterious person that entered was but your vision was still clouded by your tears.

“__?” A familiar voice said your name.

You wiped your tears away and looked at the unknown person that apparently recognizes you.

“Namjoon?” You say.

Namjoon looked surprised to see you sitting on his floor, flooded in tears. He had his eye caught on the three large hickies that were spreaded throughout your neck.

He immediately grew worried at the connection of seeing you crying with obvious marks on your body. He knelt down in front of you and gripped his hands onto both of your shoulders. “Shit, ___, did you get hurt? Did someone hurt you?” He tried to get you look into his eyes.

“Wh-What?”

“You’re obviously in distress, __. Tell me who did it, I swear I’ll beat the living shit out of them. Who the fuck is preying on girls at my party? Tell me what happened? Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?” He babbled.

You used your hands to hold onto Namjoon’s wrists that were still being gripped on your shoulders. “Namjoon? I’m okay. Nothing happened to me.” You began reassuring him.

“Th-Then why are you crying? In my room too?”

Your mouth gaped wide open. What are the odds did I end up getting finger fucked in Namjoon’s room?

His poor floor. And the door. And his room in general.

“I-I may have hooked up with someone in your room?” You were afraid he was gonna bash your head against the wall.

“Oh. Well, did you guys do it on my bed?”

“No.”

“Okay well then I don’t care.”

A chuckle escaped from your lips. Namjoon smiled at the sight of you laughing.

“So did this hookup not end well?”

“How’d you know?” You sarcastically said. He smirked. “Lucky guess?” This earned another chuckle from you.

“How did a hookup end up with you sobbing your eyes out? Did he say another girl’s name or something? Or a guy’s name?”

“Shut up,” you laughed. “No..he just…used me. And it just hurts being used. Feeling used. He just used me knowing that he feels nothing for me.” You blurt out.

Namjoon could see the hurt in your eyes. “Must really like the guy, huh?” You let your silence answer his rhetorical question.

“Well I’m sorry you’re going through it.”

You nodded at his not-so-helpful words. “Thank you. I’ll be okay though.”

Namjoon had a crazy idea in mind. Well, it wasn’t crazy for him.

“This is gonna sound extremely insensitive of me. This is probably the worst timing in history of timings to ask you this but,”

“Do you want to have sex?”

Is my Halloween costume giving off pheromones or something?

Oddly, you weren’t disgusted with the offer. “Are you suggesting this to make me feel better? If so, there are other non-sexual ways to do that.”

Namjoon felt his cheeks get hot and nervously scratched the back of his neck. “S-Sorry, this is usually how I cope with anything.”

“With sex? You cope your issues with sex? Are you constantly in heat or something?” Namjoon wheezed out a soundless laugh. “Fuck you.”

You giggled, throwing your head back.

“Well then how about a date? Maybe I can show you how a man is supposed to treat you. You can show that jerk you’re better off without him.”

You timidly smiled at him. “Okay. Let’s do that.”

Namjoon reached into his back pocket and took out his phone. “Your number, please.” He grinned, showcasing his dimpled cheeks.

. . .

Jungkook made it back to the party. Taehyung ambushed him with questions as soon as he saw Jungkook walking back down the stairs alone.

“Where did you and __ go? Is she alright?”

“She’s okay. She just had a question about homework or whatever.” He lied.

“Well where is she now?” Taehyung pressed. “Don’t know, Taehyung. You can go call her or something.” He walked away from Taehyung before he could bother him with any more questions about you. You were the last person he wanted to be thinking about right now.

His sober thoughts were pissing him the fuck off. He needed more alcohol to distract him. And so that’s what he did. He chugged down one shot

Two shots turned into three and three turned into five.

Before he knew it, he was back to feeling buzzed. Back to his reckless bitchy behavior. All of the girls that he caught checking him out looked fuckable and forgettable.

His eyes darted over to a familiar looking girl. She had dark brown hair and was dressed up as a Playboy bunny: the same girl who had asked him out to dance earlier.

His drunk body led him to her. She was watching him making his way towards her. As soon as he reached to where she was, in the middle of the dancefloor, Jungkook introduces himself: “I’m Jungkook.”

“I know who you are.” She flashes him an obvious flirtatious smile.

“You do, huh?” He flirts back.

“You’re Jeon Jungkook. The heartthrob of Konkuk University.” She continues. “Heartthrob? Don’t flatter me.”

"Why? I want to flatter you as much as I can so you can finally dance with me.”

Jungkook cocked an eyebrow up. “You’re persistent, aren’t you?”

“Very.” she simply says.

“Why would I dance with a girl whose name I don’t even know of yet?” he teases. The girl looked down, smiling. “I’m Yeri.” She introduces.

“Well Yeri, would you like to dance?” Jungkook grabbed onto one of her hands. They were small and dainty compared to his large veiny hands.

Yeri led Jungkook to another area of the dancefloor. Jungkook liked how she had a dominant personality. She knows what she wants and knows how to get what she wants.

They danced to around three songs together and each song, Yeri and Jungkook were nonstop flirting. Jungkook would run his hands by her lower back and would keep direct eye contact with her. Yeri threw in playful hits on the chest, seductive stares, and went along with the eye contact as well.

From the corner of his eye, Jungkook saw you walking down the stairs. His laugh at Yeri’s joke faltered when he saw you. You were smiling from ear to ear. You stopped once you reached th the bottom of the stairs, as if you were waiting for someone.

As if on cue, Kim Namjoon followed behind you and caught up with you to the end of the stairs. The two of were in conversation and he led you to dancefloor as well; only a few feet away from Yeri and Jungkook.

Taehyung saw you and Namjoon walking down the stairs together. He felt a strange feeling in the middle of his chest seeing the two of you together. Taehyung assumed that you and Namjoon had only a one-time dance situation however it seemed as if the two of you got close within a few hours of meeting each other.

He took down a shot of his drink.

Jungkook and Taehyung –both watching you from their prospective locations– watched the way you threw your head back in laughter at whatever Namjoon was saying. Namjoon would talk into your ear, and you would talk into his.

The same ear that Jungkook bit the shit out of earlier.

“Let’s just forget this happened.” “Like I said, I don’t have feelings for you anymore.” Your words replayed in Jungkook’s mind. And that was when he felt as if he had a point to prove to you. He didn’t know what point he had exactly in mind, but he just felt like this was something he should do at this very moment.

And so, he turned back to Yeri and leaned down to her to ask her something. A favor for Jungkook, personally.

It was you who noticed Taehyung on his way to the door. Judging by the way you saw him tossing his shot cup into the trash, you knew he was on his way home.

“Namjoon. I think my ride is ready to go.” You half-lied. You, Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook had all ubered to the party with the intention of you four getting fucked up drunk tonight. Still, you didn’t want Taehyung going home alone.

“Alright, __. I’ll text you tomorrow morning?” Namjoon asks. You nod in agreement and run off to meet up with Taehyung. “Hey! Tae!” you call out to him. The two of you are outside, and you managed to catch up to him.

“__. You’re leaving too?” Taehyung asks. “Yeah! I’m starting to get tired.” you yawn. “So am I. Too much dancing and drinking. My old body needs a rest.” You laugh at Taehyung. “You’re literally so dramatic. You’re a twenty-two year old man.”

“Yeah, a very weak and brittle boned twenty-two year old man.” You laughed again at Taehyung’s exaggerations. You noticed how safe you feel when you’re with him. The entire party, you were on edge for majority of the time: Jimin introduces you to Namjoon, you dance with Namjoon, Jungkook pisses you the fuck off, and then he kisses and fingers you and makes you squirt, Jungkook made you cry because he used you, and now Namjoon asks you out on a date. To say that you were mentally done was an understatement; a big understatement.

Taehyung is one of your bestest friends now. You trust him with your life. The way Taehyung makes you feel whenever you are with him is enough to prove to you that Taehyung has been your missing puzzle piece all along. He is the friend you needed to have in your life. Someone that you can gossip with, joke around with, hang with, be stupid with, and everything in between.

“You know I love you right?” you confess to him. Taehyung stops in his tracks and bores his eyes into yours. “You what?” He said in a low voice. Why was his heart beating so fast? Why was he feeling euphoric all of the sudden?

“What? I said I love you. I can’t say I love you?” you smile at his reaction. “L-like you love me?” He is indirectly asking for your clarification of what kind of love you mean.

“Yes, Taehyung. I love you. You’re probably the bestest friend I have ever had.”

Oh. His heart sunk at the realization of the kind of love you meant. Platonic love.

Taehyung was trying to hide the disappointment in his face. He was beginning to understand why he felt disappointed. Taehyung is mentally slapping himself for being so stupid all this time.

“I love you too, __. You’re my best friend too.” He grimaced. “Do you love me more than Jimin?” You joked, giving him a pouty face. He chuckled at you, “Maybe so, __. Maybe so.” He wrapped his arms around you, and the two of you began walking towards the closest bus station.

Taehyung loved the way his arms snaked perfectly around your shoulders.

How could I have been so blind all this time?

He loved the way you rested your head onto his shoulder.

When did this happen?

He loved the way your hair smelled like. He could smell as he towered above you.

What the fuck am I supposed to do?

He adored the way you laughed at every single of his lame jokes. The way you try to joke back with him. He loved having you all to himself at this very moment.

Jimin was right this whole time.

I am-

He loved how you entered his life at the perfect moment in his life when he needed you. He needed someone that would allow him to look forward waking up everyday, look forward to the simple small things, the mundane things. Like getting coffee, taking a walk, engaging in conversations, watching movies, just existing. He felt as if he didn’t have a purpose anymore before you came; stuck in a constant boring routine, with no one to talk to. After feeling as if he was losing his bond with Jungkook, Taehyung was craving a new partner in his life. His new half, his reason view life as optimistic as he could. He didn’t realize how much he needed you in his life until now. And he loved that about you. In this very moment, Taehyung realized that he is

I am in love with __.

In love with you.

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | 6 | ch. 7

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