#I’m already downstairs and done with my shift I’ve only left early a few times and it’s usually like want

[tariah23]

I feel like they’re watching me on the camera’s now, this is weird.

[illegal-spiegel]

“Mr. Coffee-Shop-Hotshot”

Pairing: Hikaru Hitachiin x f!reader Genre: fluff, angst, smut Warnings: jealous and possessive Hikaru, unprotected sex (wrap it up), a dash of degradation, choking, and I think that’s it lmao Summary: You’ve been dating Hikaru since high school but that doesn’t stop him from getting jealous of your coworker at the coffee shop Word Count: 4.1k words  A/N: characters are aged up!! Prompt #72 from my 1k Followers Event: “You’re Mine.”

You and Hikaru have been sweethearts since high school. The thing is, when you two first started dating, no one thought it was going to last, seeing as how you two were literally enemies until Hikaru kissed you to shut you up. After that kiss, you two avoided each other until Kaoru tried talking to you while pretending to be Hikaru. You weren’t blind though. You could tell it was Kaoru instead of his twin. You played along until the end though, only revealing you knew it was really him until he got his point across. His point was “I’m sorry for treating you so poorly. I’m just not very good with feelings and I didn’t know how to face you after the kiss without arguing with you.” You figured that Kaoru wouldn’t say something like that unless Hikaru felt that way himself. So, you grew a pair and talked to Hikaru after he was done with the Host Club. 

“It appears I’m going to be the man in this relationship.” was the first thing you said to him, to which he scoffed at because A. if anyone is going to be the man, it’s him and B. who says you two are in a relationship? 

You just kissed him and that easily proved your point. From then on, you two started dating, to everyone’s surprise. Just because you two were dating though doesn’t mean you two stopped fighting. While everyone else has their honeymoon phase, you two went right to the old married couple stage. They weren’t ever serious fights though. One time you two argued about who had better eyes. Hikaru couldn’t admit to you that it was definitely you and you couldn’t admit to him that it was actually him, so you both claimed that it was yourselves. 

After that phase ended though, you two went into the honeymoon phase, which just confused everyone, including you and Hikaru. Suddenly, him leaving his used cup on your bedside table didn’t bother you anymore. You’ll just bring it down with you when you go downstairs. Hikaru realized that he didn’t mind you having your clothes thrown out in every other direction in his room anymore. His maid will just clean it up anyway. No harm done. 

The honeymoon ‘phase’ was more annoying to everyone than the old married couple phase. Now, instead of you two arguing who wants the last piece of candy, you two are ‘arguing’ about who gets to kiss who last. It makes everyone gag. Honey senpai seems to think it’s really sweet though. 

That was four years ago and now, you two are just as bad now as you were back then. Everyone, luckily and unluckily, decided to go to the same university. It is way out of your price range but that wasn’t going to stop your boyfriend of four years from getting you to go there. “I’ll pay off all your bills, babe. Don’t worry,” he’ll always reassure you despite your worries and nagging. You refuse to let him pay for it all though, so you got a job. 

It was actually pretty easy to nail the job, seeing as how it’s at the coffee shop where you and the gang always went for energy boosters and to study. You were already friends with the manager from going in there so much, so when you asked if they were hiring, they practically hired you on the spot. 

Hikaru didn’t like you having a job though. 

“Why do you even work here? I can pay for everything, babe. You don’t have to worry about it. So why don’t you just quit? I miss hanging out with you,” he complains every time you leave for work, when he shows up to your work, and when you come back to your shared apartment. His argument, in your royal opinion, is stupid. If anything, you see him too much as it is. I mean, you already live with the guy and have half of your classes with him. What more does he want from you?

It took him a month to finally accept the fact that yes, you will pay for things yourself, and no, you are not quitting just because he wants you to. Once he realizes that you can secretly give him free coffee though, not that price ever mattered to him, he was happy. “Okay, but I also want a free muffin,” he finally agreed. 

It was like that for maybe half a year before new problems started to arise. Your boss hired a new guy who you don’t even know the name of yet but, oh, Hikaru hates him already. “I don’t like him. He smells like too much Axe body spray and he has a weird, purple piercing in his eyebrow. And! And, he has a tattoo. A tattoo! Who does he think he is,” Hikaru complains to you while you try to do homework. He had gotten your schedule mixed up and when he went to go see you on your day off, he ran into the new guy. You weren’t surprised that he could tell he’s new since Hikaru is practically there as much as you are. He knows everyone and, of course, everyone loves him. 

Not this guy though, apparently. 

“When he gave me my coffee, it tasted off! Then, I realized, he didn’t add sugar! I didn’t say anything about sugar!” he continues to rant, making you sigh and set your pencil down. You turn to face him now, placing your hand over his and soothingly rubbing your thumb over his smooth skin. 

“Baby, I’m sure it was an accident. He’s new, remember? I’m sure he just forgot to add it,” you reassure, giving his cheek a kiss once he takes a deep breath and lets it all go in one breath. 

“Fine. I guess you’re right. But if he messes up again, I won’t hesitate to say something next time!” You giggle at this and nod your head, giving him a proper kiss this time to relax him even more. 

“Okay, baby. You do that,” you tease before going back to your homework. This, of course, was just not okay. 

“Babe, we’ve been studying for hours. Let’s take a break,” he coos, moving closer to you and starting to place kisses along your neck. You try to ignore him and focus but your boyfriend knows you too well. Knows your body too well. 

“You mean I’ve been studying for hours. You’ve just been talking and playing on your phone,” you tease, a gasp ripping from you when he sucks and nibbles on your sweet spot. You feel him smirk against your skin, his hands coming to squeeze your thighs. 

“Fair point. Makeout with me a little and then, and only then, will I study,” he bargains, making you roll your eyes. 

“Fat chance,” you decline him as you playfully push him away, making him whine loudly. 

“But baby—”

“No. Study and then, and only then, will I makeout with you,” you bargain right back, a smirk of your own coming to your face. 

“You’re wicked,” he says with a dramatic gasp and a hand across his heart. When you don’t reply or even react, he groans before finally picking up his pencil. “Fine! You better take your shirt off too then,” he snaps before focusing on his work. Most of your study sessions go like this. 

The next day at work, the new guy, Ritsu, came in in the middle of your shift. Your boss introduced the two of you once he put his stuff away in his locker, the guy seeming nervous for his next shift today. You smile at him and shake his hand, reassuring him that you’ll help him out today. He seems to relax at this, thanking you before starting to get to work. Whenever he had a question or messed up, you were right there to help him. The day, overall, went pretty smoothly you think. 

At the end of your shifts, he grabs his things from his locker before walking to the front with you. “Do you need a ride home?” he asks as he walks over to his motorcycle. You smile at him but shake your head, taking your phone out of your pocket to check your messages. 

“No, that’s okay. My boyfriend is picking me up and taking me out to dinner. Thank you though!” you reply with a sweet smile, Ritsu flashing you a smile back as he climbs onto his motorcycle. 

“Okay, good. I didn’t want you walking home alone at night. I heard there was a robbery a couple of roads away from here,” he explains as he pulls his helmet on. 

“Oh yeah. It was at the corner gas station. That’s so sweet of you to think of me though. I’ll be sure to let you know if I ever need a ride!” you thank once more. He nods as he turns the vehicle on, bidding you farewell with a salute before pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road. 

You check the time and see that you have a few minutes until your boyfriend gets there. Luckily, he seemed to have left early because, within the next minute, he’s stopping right in front of you. “Well, hello there, good lookin’. Do you need a ride?” he playfully flirts. You hum and pretend to think about it as you walk over to his window. 

“Well, I don’t know. Are you going to show me a good time?” you playfully flirt right back. He hums as he happily lets his eyes trail over your body despite your hideous work clothes. He didn’t seem to mind them though. 

“Oh, you have no idea, baby. Don’t tell my girlfriend though.” You scoff as you burst into a fit of giggles, lightly hitting his arm before going to the passenger side. 

“Well, that depends. Am I prettier than her?” you reply, batting your eyelashes at him as you slide into the car and pull your seatbelt over your body. He hums and nods his head, putting the car in reverse as he replies. 

“Oh, most definitely. She’s like a fat cow,” he jokes, making you scoff and hit him again. 

“I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate you saying such things about her. What if I decide to tell her what you said about her?” you argue, crossing your arms over your chest as if you’re mad at him. You know for a fact that he’d never cheat on you. You always tease him that he’s too obsessed with you. ‘I love you! I’m not obsessed with you! There’s a difference!’ he’d always argue to your joking jab. 

Before he can leave the parking spot, he stops the car to look at you with this new glint in his eyes. “What if I eat you out so good that you can’t even remember your own name, let alone mine?” he whispers right into your ear, his tongue licking around the shell of your ear. You let out a shaky breath, not expecting his sudden change in this little game you two were playing. 

“I doubt you’re any good,” you sass, it lacking the power that you want it to have. He pulls away from the side of your head to make eye contact with you again, his eyes shining with a newfound lust. 

“Well, I’ve only ever been with my girlfriend, so it’s possible. You should hear the way she screams my name though. She’ll cum three times from my mouth and fingers alone before I even give what she really wants inside of her,” he says lowly, your eyes moving to watch his lips as he talks. You press your legs together, already starting to feel arousal bubbling low in your gut. 

“Is she any good in bed?” you decide to ask, bringing the attention off of him. You wait for him to say something along the lines of ‘no, she’s horrible’ but it seems he decides to stop playing your little game all of a sudden. 

“She’s better than good. She sucks me off like I’m a popsicle and she just got out of the desert. She’s always so desperate to unravel me but I never do only because I know it works her up even more. She then starts acting like a brat, trying to get her way. We both know that’s just her way of annoying me to the point that I punish her. Mmhm, her screams sound so good when her face is shoved into our mattress,” he replies, his voice dropping an octave or two. You gulp at this, feeling your panties dampen with your slick. 

“No wonder she’s your girlfriend,” you whisper, your throat suddenly too dry for your liking. He only hums before continuing with his driving, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it once you two get on the road. 

“What do you want to eat? I’m kind of in the mood for Mexican,” he says to you as if he didn’t just make you so horny that the only thing you can think about is having him inside of your mouth instead of food. 

“That sounds fine,” you say softly, trying to think of anything but that. He smirks at the way you sound, which is slightly wrecked, and starts to head in the direction of a Mexican restaurant that you two like. That night ended, of course, with him deep inside of you and grunting out all sorts of deliciously dark things into your ear. 

Things continued on like normal for a while. You went to work but didn’t get to work with Ritsu again for a week, so Hikaru never ran into him again. The day you did work with him though, he seemed to be struggling more than usual. So, when there was a break in customers, you decide to ask him what was up. 

“Sorry. I got into this fight with my girlfriend, Mei, this morning,” he explains, a frown hanging heavy on his face. You nod your head, only too familiar with that feeling. You and Hikaru don’t have serious fights a lot but you, obviously, have them just like every other couple. 

“It’s okay. I understand. Do you want to talk about it? Maybe I can give you my opinion or some advice?” you offer, wanting to help him feel better. He thinks about your offer for a moment before sighing and giving in, starting to tell you everything that had happened that morning. You two occasionally pause to help a customer but always end up focusing back on his situation. As a woman yourself, you look at his story from her point of view and figure out what might be the cause of her frustrations. 

“Okay,” you say once he finishes his story, “I think I see what the problem is.” You then tell him what you think and what he should do to mend their relationship. After hearing your advice, he realized what he did wrong and gets so excited that he hugs you. 

“Thank you so much! It all makes sense now! No wonder she was so upset! You’re seriously a lifesaver! I owe you one!” He hugs you tightly, making you giggle and return the hug. 

“It’s no problem at all,” you reassure. You two pull away when you hear the bell ring, automatic smiles coming to your face to greet your new customer. Your eyes widened when you saw your boyfriend instead though. A very angry and brooding boyfriend at that. “Babe? What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t going to be here for another hour?” you ask confusedly, walking around the counter to give him your usual hug and kiss. 

His eyes are on Ritsu though. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you not want me here? Am I interrupting something?” he snaps, his eyes squinting at Ritsu as he says this. Your brows furrow at his words, stopping in front of him and dropping your arms since it’s obvious that he’s not going to give you a hug. 

“What? Well, I’m working but—”

“Oh, sorry to bother you then. I’ll let you get right back to it,” he snaps, turning his glare to you before leaving without another word. He doesn’t stop or turn around when you call after him either, making you sigh as a frown comes to your face. 

“What’s up with him?” you mumble, trying to think as to why he would be mad. That’s when it hit you. You hugging Ritsu? Did that upset him? But why? You hug guys all of the time. Well, not all of the time. And then again, they’re his friends too or your family. You snap out of your daze when the bell jingles again, signaling a new customer. You sigh and go back behind the counter, smiling and greeting the customer happily. Guess you’ll just have to talk to him about it later then. 

When you get off work and you get back home, you find that Hikaru isn’t home. You think back to what he was telling you yesterday, remembering him telling you his plans for today. You check the time on the microwave before looking at your fridge for any notes. He doesn't have any plans right now that you are aware of and he didn’t leave a note telling you where he was going or when he’ll be back. Maybe there was an emergency? That just makes you worry more though.

You let it go with a heavy exhale, trying not to read too much into it. You don’t have to know where he is every second of every day. 

You go to your bathroom to take a shower and get the smell of coffee off of you. You end up accidentally using his body wash though, the smell of cinnamon and ginger filling your nostrils. It’s not your favorite but it’s what he’s been using for years. He pulls off the smell really well though. 

You step out of the shower and wrap yourself up in a baby blue towel, leaning against the sink to look at your skin in the mirror. After applying some lotion to your body to make you feel extra nice, you leave the bathroom. You stop at the door though when you find Hikaru sitting on the bed, his feet still on the floor and his hands hanging between his knees. Now you’re even more concerned. Normally, he would’ve jumped at the opportunity to take a shower with you but now he won’t even look at you. 

“Hikaru,” you call out softly to him, seeming to bring him out of his daze. You walk over to him and come to stand in between his legs, making him sit up straighter. His eyes glaze over your bare collarbones and neck, something spurring to life in his eyes as water droplets cascade down your soft skin. 

“You’re mine,” he says suddenly, his eyes snapping to yours. Your eyes widen a bit at this random declaration, your brow raising curiously at him. 

“What?” is your brilliant reply to him. You gasp when he stands and switches your positions in a flash, the back of your knees hitting the bed before you fall back onto it. You gape up at him, your hands clinging to the front of your towel. 

“You heard me. You’re mine!” he growls, his hands snagging your towel away from you before you can even attempt to stop him. His eyes wander your body, a dark look in his eyes as he takes his sweet time admiring your naked body. 

“Hikaru,” you breathe his name, goosebumps crawling over your flesh. He hums in response, one of his knees coming to the bed so he can lean over you, his fingers starting to trace random lines and patterns into your skin. 

“That’s right. Say my name, baby,” he coos, his fingers coming to tweak your nipples. You moan his name in response, back arching up into his hands. He watches you with attentive eyes, not daring to look away from your lewd expressions or wet hole for even a second. He loves how quickly you react to his touch, your body always craving his as much as his craves yours. “Who do you belong to?” he asks as he crawls completely over you, staring into your eyes as he lets his hands crawl down your body. 

“You,” you whisper breathlessly. 

“Who?” he growls, suddenly shoving two of his fingers into your drooling heat. 

“You, Hikaru!” you cry, back arching when he slips a third finger in. He hums lowly as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, scraping the pads of his fingers against your g-spot to get you really moaning for him. 

“That’s right, baby. You’re all mine, now and forever,” he whispers before pulling his fingers out, making you whimper. He brings his dry hand up to your throat, squeezing it lightly as he stares into your eyes. “Shut up! Dirty whores like you don’t get to cum until I say so,” he hisses, not letting your neck go as he uses his other hand to remove his pants and boxers. “‘M gonna fill you up, remind you that you only belong to me,” he mumbles, his hand frantically trying to pull his member free. 

Your brows furrow at this as you bring your hands up to his chest. Before you can question him though, he starts to push into you. You both groan in sync as he slips inside, your eyes rolling back into your head for a moment. You forget about his words for now, your brain only thinking about the way he feels inside of you. 

He just barely bottoms out before he’s already pulling back to thrust back in, starting a frantic pace. You moan his name loudly, your nails lightly scratching his chest, causing him to hiss. He keeps up the frenzied pace, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. 

You both cum almost at the same time, Hikaru finally giving you permission to cum after denying you your orgasm over and over again. He keeps true to his word, pushing deep inside of you and coating your walls white. He stays inside of you for a while, his chest heaving as he tries to get air back. He slowly releases your throat, and instead brushes his fingers against your cheek. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his eyes shining with regret. You’re confused for a moment, thinking that that’s some of the best sex you’ve ever had. Then you remember his words from before, how he kept saying you’re his and that no one is going to take you from him. 

“What’s going on, my love?” you whisper, still a little breathless. He looks away from you, starting to worry his lip between his teeth. 

“Don’t leave me for him,” he whispers, and if you weren’t just a couple of inches away from him, you wouldn’t have heard it. He pulls out of you then and moves to lay beside you, putting his back to you. 

“What? Hey. Hey, look at me,” you say worriedly, pushing yourself up onto your elbow as you use your free hand to gently trace random shapes into his back. It takes him a minute but he eventually turns onto his back, staring at the ceiling instead of you. “What’s all this ‘leaving me’ talk about? We’ve been dating for years, Hikaru. Why would I want to leave you for someone else?” you ask with furrowed brows, starting to run your hand through his hair to help soothe him. He leans into your touch, his eyes finally meeting yours. Despite your reassuring words, he looks scared, worried. 

“What about Mr. Coffee-Shop-Hotshot? You seemed to like him a lot,” he grumbles, his mouth turning into a scowl just at the thought of the man. You can’t help but smile at how jealous he is, your heart swelling with the amount of love you hold for the man before you. 

“You dope, he was asking me for advice about his girlfriend. That hug happened because he was thanking me for basically saving his relationship,” you inform, a smirk on your face as you watch the realization come over his face. 

“Oh,” he squeaks out, his face turning sheepish and red. You snort and move to lay your head down on his chest. 

“You’re such an idiot. You should know by now that you’re the one for me, idiot and all,” you tease, gently rubbing his chest and abdomen. He huffs and wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly to him. 

“Whatever. As if you wouldn’t get upset if I was hugging another girl,” he accuses. 

“You act as if another girl would even come near someone as ugly as you,” you tease, obviously joking. 

“Hey!”

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[jeonsjiddies]

Not Afraid | jjk (m)

Summary - Jungkook helps you change your flat tire, and teaches you how to let go.

Word Count -  3816

Pairing - Jungkook x reader

Genre - smut

Warnings -  dom!jungkook, fingering, bondage, breast play, oral (f recieving), dirty talk, rough sex

a/n: another re-write from a previous fandom. :)

Driving home from university on a hot Tuesday afternoon, you sang along to the radio at the top of your lungs.You sped down the highway (still following the speed limit- for the most part. Didn’t most cops give a 5mph grace?) when your car started shaking and swerving. You put your flashers on and pulled over underneath an overpass bridge. You got out and realized you had a flat tire. 

“Crap,” you mumbled, pulling out your spare from the back and staring at it.

You didn’t know how to change a tire. You groaned, kicking the stone wall in frustration. You heard a hissing noise from behind some chipped off stones, and out jumped a snake. You screamed, fumbling away from it. Suddenly, a tall man in a black leather jacket appeared. He fearlessly grabbed the snake by the head so it couldn’t bite him, and walked it over to a grassy area, tossing it free.

“Are you oka-” he began when you threw yourself at him, hugging him. 

Your hands then pressed against his chest. 

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you,” you rushed out.

Being pressed against him felt so good. Your hands slid down his chiseled abdomen slowly, mesmerized. You jumped back to reality, your gaze flickering up to his face, startled. You stood there, frozen, gazes locked together, your hands splayed across the top of his jeans. 

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry,” you squeaked, cheeks heating up as you stumbled away from him and his amused expression. 

“Oh, don’t mind me. I was enjoying the show,” he smirked. 

You almost died right then and there. From this new angle, you saw his deliciously tanned skin, deep brown eyes and razor sharp jawline, but soft, round features. He was gorgeous, erotic, he was…

“Jungkook?” you gasped, recognizing the boy from school. 

“Hey, Y/N.” he grinned.

“Oh my gosh, hi!” you smiled. “What are you doing here?” 

“I saw you were having car trouble and I stopped to make sure you were okay.”  

You and Jungkook weren’t exactly friends, but you were one of the few people  who didn’t treat him like trash, so you were friendly in classes and the hallways.

“I got a flat tire. I have a spare but I don’t know how to change it.” you sighed.

“I can help you with that. Do you have a jack?”  

“Uh…” you looked in the back and shook your head.

“I do, at my place. Come on,” he motioned to his bike. 

He handed you a helmet and you climbed onto the seat behind him, clutching his torso for dear life. Jungkook’s  body felt so good to touch, it made you hold on a little tighter than necessary. He wasn’t even going that fast. He rode down the highway, turning into his apartment complex. You hopped of the bike, your whole body still vibrating from the purr of the engine. 

“Whoa,” you swayed.

“First time?”  

You nodded.

“I’m honored to have been your first ride,” he smirked, making you blush at the implied meaning.

That bike wasn’t the only thing you wanted to ride…  He grabbed the jack from inside, while you looked around.

“Got it,” he said, suddenly standing behind you, his body head radiating onto your back, breath fanning against your ear. 

You visibly shivered, causing him to chuckle.

“Let’s go, princess.”  

You climbed back on the bike, more aware of his body between your legs than before. He rode back to your car and jacked it up, using the tools he’d brought he took off the old tire and put on the new one. He eased your car back to the ground.

“Good as new,” he beamed, “I’ll follow you home just to be sure that it’s all safe.”

“Thank you, Jungkook. You’re amazing,” you gushed.

He blushed and nodded, crawling back onto his bike and following you to your house. He got off the bike and walked up to you.

“Check your tire pressure in a couple days but other than that it seemed to drive fine.”  

“Okay. Do you want a drink or something?” you gestured to your house. “You really saved me today and I just want to repay you.”

“Sure,“ he smiled.

You led him inside, giving him some iced tea.

“Hungry?” you offered him a plate of cookies your mom had left out when she’d gone to night shift. 

“Thanks,” he smiled, taking one and biting in. 

He closed his eyes and let out a low moan that melted your insides. You pressed your thighs together.

“This cookie is orgasmic.” Jungkook told you, and you just giggled nervously.

“Oh, I forgot to give you the grand tour,” you grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the kitchen. 

You let go as soon as you realized what you’d done and showed him the downstairs before heading up the stairs.

“Last but not least, where I sleep,” you said, sitting on the bed.

“Nice.”  

“You’re the first guy that’s been up here,” you admitted.

“Oh, another honor of being your first,” he winked.

You covered your face, laughing.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“But didn’t you, Y/N?” the corner of his lip tugged upwards as he stalked towards you, almost like a predator closing in on its’ prey.

Your throat went dry as he placed his hand on your knee, leaning closer.

“Y/N?” your mom called up the stairs, “honey whose motorcycle is outside?”

Jungkook froze, your eyes popped open wide.

“She’s supposed to be at work.”  

“I’m not supposed to be here, am I?” 

You shook your head.

“Shit,” he mumbled, glancing at the window.  

“Don’t go. I have a plan. Come on.” 

You led him downstairs and stopped in front of your mom.

“Y/N, what-” she stopped and stared at Jungkook,  “Who are you? Why is he here? What were you doing up there?” she accused.

“Jungkook helped me change my flat tire and I didn’t have any cash on me but I wanted to repay him so he followed me here so I could get into my savings jar.” 

Jungkook nodded, furthering your story by pulling out a stack of one dollar bills from his pocket.

“Oh, well thank you… Jungkook…” your mom smiled wearily.

“It’s really no problem, Mrs. Y/L/N.”  

“Would you like to stay for dinner? As a thank you? I got off work early and I was going to make steak,” she offered.

“I’d like that,” Jungkook smiled. “At home it’d be me and a frozen dinner.”

“A growing boy needs a home cooked meal,” she clapped, “if you go back into your room, leave the door open Y/N.”

Your whole face felt hot  and you just nodded, dragging Jungkook up the stairs.

“I’m so sorry,” you groaned.

“Don’t be, she’s sweet.”  

“If you say so,” you mumbled.

You and Jungkook hung out in your room, talking and laughing and getting to know each other better. He told you how he became interested in tattoos, even learning how to tattoo someone himself, though he hadn’t had time to do it professionally with school. Tou told him that you’d never done anything half as exciting as that. The both of you kept moving closer unconsciously, until you were sitting cross legged on your bed, knees touching. You bit your bottom lip nervously. Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut.

“Y/N, it’s taking every bit of self control I’ve got not to attack you right now, please don’t make this any harder than it already is,” he groaned.

“Attack me?” you asked.

Jungkook lowered his voice, giving you a dangerous look. 

“You don’t even know what you’re doing to me, do you? From the moment you touched me at the bridge, I’ve wanted you. Even before that. You’re so kind to me, so pure and sweet. But I see the way you look at me. The way you want me. Then you bring me to your bed and you tease me, but I can’t have you. Your mom is downstairs. If she weren’t here right now, I’d have you screaming my name, begging me for more, I’d fuck you so good you’d be limping for days,” he growled, voice barely audible.

You sucked in a breath, using every ounce of willpower you possessed not to jump on him.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you babygirl?” he purred. “You want my hands all over you, my tongue-”

“Y/N! Jungkook! Dinner,” your mom called.

Your face was hot from Jungkook’s dirty words, and he had to adjust himself before going downstairs. 

“I’m starved,” he smirked, “but I really just want dessert,” he whispered in your ear, nibbling it before walking away. 

You nearly fainted, but you followed him down to the kitchen.  You sat next to him at the table.

“Wow Mrs. Y/L/N, this looks amazing,” Jungkook smiled innocently. 

You  pressed your legs together desperate for any kind of relief. Jungkook smiled, placing a hand on your bare thigh under the table. Your eyes widened, and you looked at him. He just smiled politely, eyes focused ahead on what your mother was saying. Your dad came in and introduced himself. Your parents made idle conversation, they asked questions, but you could barely pay attention with Jungkook’s fingers dancing on your skin, so close to where you wanted him, but not close enough. As you were explaining the events of the day to your father, Jungkook’s fingers found their way past the hem of your shorts. You choked on your water.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook feigned concern.

“I’m fine. Wrong pipe,” you coughed, gripping his knee as a warning, pushing your legs together. 

He easily spread them apart again, because, did you really want him to stop? His fingers slithered past your underwear, teasing your slit. 

“This steak is so moist,” Jungkook grinned.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” your mom smiled.

You rolled your eyes, until he slipped one finger inside you. You bit down on your lip to avoid moaning. Jungkook didn’t even glance your way as he added another, pumping in and out of your heat seamlessly. His arm was barely moving. His thumb  rubbed circles around your clit, and you jumped a little. You dug your nails into his leg as his skilled fingers started moving faster, curling and hitting all the best places, making the electricity in your core build fast. You whimpered quietly as he shifted the angle, hitting your G-spot again.

“Are you okay, honey?” your dad asked.

“Yea-yeah. I just… ohhh.. My head hurts,” you moaned out.

“Do you need to be excused?” your dad asked.

“No…” you choked out breathlessly, “I’m okay.” 

“Okay,” he gave you a concerned look and started asking your mother about her day.

Jungkook leaned over and whispered hotly in your ear.

“Such a naughty girl, you don’t want to get caught do you? But it feels so good, doesn’t it? My fingers deep in your soaking pussy.  You act so innocent, I knew you’d be a dirty girl for me.” he purred quietly, so only you could hear. 

“Jungkook,” you gasped quietly, warning him that your orgasm was quickly approaching.

“Let it go baby, but be quiet.” 

He smirked, quickening the pace of his fingers. You covered your head with your arms, biting down on one to stifle the loud moan that left your lips as you rode out your high on Jungkook’ fingers, shaking from the explosion deep inside your core.

“Y/N?” your mom questioned.

“I think it’s a stress headache,” you croaked out. “Maybe I should go lay down. I’ll walk Jungkook out.”

“Okay honey, feel better. Nice to meet you, Jungkook.”

“Pleasure was mine.”  

“Come again soon,” she told him and he just smirked at you.

“I will.” 

Once you got outside, you hit his arm. 

“You’re such an asshole!” you hissed.

“You loved it.,” he laughed. 

You tugged on his shirt and he stepped closer to you.

“There’s more where that came from baby girl. I’m gonna show you how good I can make you feel,” he growled  “if your parents weren’t watching us from the window, I’d kiss you.”

“Now you’re scared?” you scoffed.

His eyes darkened and he pulled you against him roughly, kissing you hard and fast, making you dizzy. His tongue battled yours and his hands gripped your sides, grinding you into him. It was like a grenade had exploded in your mind, almost as good as the orgasm. He pulled away and licked his lips suggestively.

“I’m not afraid of anything, baby,” he winked, jumping on his bike and riding away.

Over the course of the next few weeks, all you could think about was Jungkook. Jungkook’s lips on yours, his fingers, daydreaming about other areas of his anatomy… All you wanted to do was to see how he could keep his word but he had other ideas. He loved to rile you up, then leave you wanting more, saying “it will be worth the wait baby.” Jungkook would sneak up behind you in the hallway, covering your eyes, whispering in your ear with that husky voice “guess who?”  and you like to tease him too.

“Tae?” You pretend- guessed.

Jungkook spun you around in a flash, pinning you against your locker, capturing your lips in a hot, jealous kiss.

“Does Tae kiss you like that?” Jungkook growled. 

“Well now that you mention it…” 

“Oh you’re so in for it,” his fingers dug into your side and you let out a shriek as he tickled you. 

“Jungkook! Jungkook!” You screamed, laughing. 

“That’s right baby, scream my name. Just how I like it, ” he joked, pulling you into a seemingly innocent hug, if it weren’t for his hot breath murmuring dirty things in your ear. 

You went weak against him and he pressed his hard on into your hips, to help keep you up and also to tease you. You whimpered like an injured puppy, grinding against him, but he pulled away. 

“Mmm… so hot for me baby,” he cooed, “maybe if you behaved and didn’t tease me, I wouldn’t have to tease you.“

“I’ll stop I swear,” You promised. 

He grabbed your ass, pulling you in for a fast kiss. The warning bell rang and he took your hand innocently, walking you to class. This hot and cold had shivers running down your spine. He kissed your forehead and went to his own class. 

Later, as you cuddled in his bed, you finally broke. 

“Babe, you’ve been teasing me for weeks. I want you,” you whined. 

“Okay.” 

“Really? Okay?” you gasped. 

“Yeah, but I want you to beg for it. Beg for me,” he smirked, “tell me how badly you need my big, thick cock in your little wet pussy. Tell me what you want me to do to you.” 

His eyes were dark and dangerous and you were already dripping as you sat up on your knees, looking up at him. 

“Jungkook, please,” you begged, too desperate to be embarrassed, “Please I need you inside me right now. I need to feel your hands on me. I can’t stop thinking about how good your fingers felt inside me. You’re all I think about, I’m going insane. Fuck, please.”  

“Mmm.. that’s it baby girl. You want me to make you feel good?” he purred. 

“Yes, please. Fuck Jungkook, I’m literally begging you. I’ll do anything,” you whimpered. 

“Anything?” 

“Literally anything. I need you that badly.” 

“Strip,” He instructed, standing up and walking over to his closet and pulling something out. 

You did as told without hesitation. Some might call you whipped, but it was more like sexual desperation. You’d been allowed to have a sample, but you needed the real thing. You’d been teased and provoked for weeks, and you were ready to burst. 

“Lay back, baby,” He said softly, and you did.

He pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, smirking at you.

“Are you ready?”  

Your eyes went wide and you nodded, moving your hands up to the headboard so he could cuff them. 

“Now, this is going to be different, but I want you to stop thinking so much and just feel what I’m doing to you. Can you do that?”  

“Yes,” you breathed out in excitement . 

He pulled out a large bandana, covering your eyes with it and securing it around your head.  You couldn’t even see any light filtering in through the fabric, it was just darkness. You heard Jungkook’ belt buckle and assumed he was undressing. You felt his body hovering over yours. 

“Mmm… you look so fucking good all tied up and ready for me. I’m going to make you feel so amazing baby girl,” he licked a stripe from the sensitive space below your ear down to your collarbone, nibbling gently. 

You felt something soft tickle your breasts, causing your nipples to perk up. The strange soft object was ghosted across your alert nipples and you bit your lip and shivered. 

“Do you trust me to take care of you?”  

You didn’t skip a beat, “yes.” 

“Good girl.”  

Everywhere the soft tickling sensation went, Jungkook lips followed close behind. He sucked on your breasts, teeth gently tugging on your erect nipples. You groaned quietly. His wet mouth on your sensitive skin was almost too much. He licked a bold line across them, blowing cold air on the wet skin, and you shook in anticipation.  Jungkook treated your body like a temple, worshipping every inch of your skin, telling you how flawless you were, how much he craved you. His mouth slowly, tantalizingly slowly, worked its way down your body, leaving little love bites, kissing and licking and teasing. You felt the soft tickle on your heat, so ready for his mouth to follow, but it didn’t. He teased your slit with the soft touches and kissed your mouth tenderly. 

“I wish you could see how beautiful you look, all open and ready for me. You’re a fucking goddess, y/n. I bet you taste so good, so sweet,” he told you, nibbling on your bottom lip. 

Your mouth fell open in awe at how his words affected you, how even a simple kiss had you writhing, how not being able to see made everything so much more intense, or maybe it was just Jungkook. Jungkook’s mouth left yours, and you missed his body heat pressed against yours until you felt him press soft kisses at your entrance. Finally, he was where you needed him. His tongue darted out unexpectedly, licking and swirling against your sensitive clit. You moaned quietly. His fingers snaked their way into your dripping core, curling just right, just like they had that night at dinner, only better. 

You arched your back off the bed, trying to handle your fingers in his hair, but your movements were halted by the cuffs. Jungkook fingered you quickly, pumping in and out hard and fast, but his tongue danced slowly on your little nub, the different tempos making your head spin. You were already close, his magic fingers working inside you, his delicious tongue bringing you so close to the edge. Your high crashed over you and your breath hitched, you couldn’t even make sound, just sucked in your breath as the most amazing feeling washed over you. 

Jungkook continued working on your pussy until he knew your high had come back down. Your breathing was labored and he grinned, loving what he could do to you. You felt completely spent, and you thought that was the end of it, until you heard a foil wrapper being opened. You weren’t sure if you could handle anything else with how sensitive your clit felt, but you sure as hell weren’t going to pass up this opportunity. Jungkook lined himself up at your sensitive, dripping entrance. He reached up and took off your blindfold, and the first thing you saw was his gorgeous face smiling down at you, meeting your eyes. 

“I wanted to be able to see your eyes for this part.” He told you, leaning down to kiss you gently, slowly sliding inside of you. 

You gasped, feeling over sensitive and wanting more at the same time. Jungkook moved slowly at first, letting you adjust, then he started going faster. The faster Jungkook snapped his hips, the louder you moaned, Jungkook encouraging you obviously. 

“That’s it baby, let it out, I want the neighbors to know who’s making you feel this good.”  

“Fuck, Jungkook, oh…” you nearly screamed “faster please please please.” 

Jungkook pumped in and out of you faster, rougher, causing the headboard to smack against the wall with a loud thud each time. Your whole body rocked along with the force of his thrusts, and you thought you might actually faint. You were flying, soaring, floating, you couldn’t describe it. You were in another world with Jungkook deep inside you, filling an empty space inside you that you didn’t even know existed. It was like you were incomplete until this moment, and Jungkook became a part of you, closing the gap. Your high was coming again, even more intense than the last. You could barely breathe, you couldn’t even get his name out of your mouth to warn him, you couldn’t do anything but feel the ridiculous ecstasy, bliss, delicious feeling that swallowed you whole. 

You screamed out, the most intense orgasm of your life surrounding you in immeasurable pleasure. Jungkook came soon after, and slowed his pace after riding out your highs together. He collapsed next to you, breathing as ragged as your own. You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak for a moment. You glanced over at him, looking like a snack- no, a five course meal- skin shimmering with sweat. He was perfection and you couldn’t believe he was really here, that you’d really just had sex with him. But it had been more than sex, it was hot and sensual and overwhelming and erotic but it was also two souls intertwining, like coming home after being gone for so long. It was like you belonged there with Jungkook, and you were finally where you were meant to be.  

“Jungkook?” You asked breathlessly.

“Hmm?” He looked at you, worn and sleepy. 

“You’re fucking amazing.”  

“Fucked you that good?” he laughed. 

“Gosh yes, but like… all of you. You’re an amazing person. I’m really glad I met you.”  

He gathered you up in his arms, kissing the top of your head and holding you close. 

“I’m glad I met you too, y/n. You’re incredible,” he cooed. 

You didn’t even try to get up for hours, you knew your legs wouldn’t work after the pounding you’d just had, but you didn’t want to move anyway. The only place you wanted to be was wrapped up in Jungkook’ arms, where you were safe and cherished and not afraid of anything. 

[starlessea]

I See Red (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Prompt: “If you hurt my brother, I’ll kill you. I swear I’ll kill you all.” Requested by @alex-sulli​​​, numbers #25 and #29 from this post.

Summary: You’ll threaten anyone who dares mess with your little brother; and Daryl is left to pick up the pieces when you feel guilty for doing so.

Words: 2078

Warnings: Language.

Never before in your life had you found yourself at a loss for words. Whether it was rambling to Daryl during the early hours of the morning whilst he grumbled to let him sleep, or giving your father grief like it were an older sibling’s duty, you always had something to say. That was, however, until now.

Carl had his hands held up, directly in front of his face so that they were visible. He shot you a look, urging you to do the same. You didn’t. Instead, you glanced back and forth between your brother and Ron, like you couldn't quite comprehend what was happening.

"It's fine." Carl said, trying to reassure you. "I've got this."

He didn't. 

You'd been upstairs, watching over Judith whilst your father and Michonne were on their patrols, when suddenly you heard shouting coming from Carl's room. You sighed, thinking you'd have to scold your teenage brother and his friends for being too rowdy when your little sister was fast asleep in her crib. At first, you let them off the hook, but when glass shattered in the distance you decided enough was enough.

You'd bound down the stairs with the practiced heavy footsteps of an older sister, already preparing your best yelling voice. Except, rather than the row you were expecting to give, you were rendered speechless as you flung open the door.

Ron stood with his arm outstretched, pointing a pistol directly at your brother. Carl glanced back at the sound of you entering his room, and pleaded with you to follow his lead. The other boy remained silent, but shifted his weight on his feet as you glared at him. 

Ron was no killer; you watched as his hand trembled over the gun, and he chewed his lip between his teeth. He was no killer - but he was certainly an asshole.

"Put it down." You demanded, taking a few steps closer to him. "Now!"

The boy flinched as you yelled, and Carl glanced back at you nervously. You didn't care what he'd told you; there was no way you'd allow him to diffuse the situation alone. Your innocent baby sister lay asleep upstairs, and your younger brother was facing a loaded gun downstairs. You thought your father would actually kill you if anything happened to either of them on your watch.

Ron fumbled with the gun, narrowing his eyes at you like he was debating your words. You'd expected him to surrender it immediately, and let you march him home to his mother by the ear. Except, he didn't. He trained his aim on you instead, and his shoulders shook even more as he did so. You let out a bitter laugh in disbelief, and raised an eyebrow at him. He didn't back down, but neither did you. 

Carl watched the exchange as you walked even closer to Ron, until the barrel of the pistol lay flush against your chest. He didn't pull the trigger; you knew he wouldn't. You could feel the cold metal quivering against your skin, and you took it from him without hesitation. 

He let you, and took a few steps back in response to you getting even nearer to his face - so close that you could see his skin prickle from your breath on his cheek.

"If you hurt my brother, I'll kill you." You whispered, letting him feel the gun against his own torso this time. "I swear I'll kill you all." 

The boy looked down at his shoes, as your foreheads pressed together.

"You think you can pull a gun on my family?" You questioned, forcing his chin up with your knuckle. "Then wait until you see what I can do to yours."

You unloaded the gun, letting the magazine fall to the floor as you watched the bullets scatter out from it. You took a step back, and watched as Ron seemed to take his first breath. He immediately glanced over at Carl for some support, and you laughed in his face as he did so. You couldn’t believe he dared have the audacity to look to your brother for help not even minutes after threatening to kill him.

"Get out." You spat, and the boy did just that.

Your jacket caught on the handle as you snapped open the door a little too forcefully, and you growled below your breath. You'd been looking forward to returning home all day, and having some time to yourself to relax - but now all you saw was red. You kicked the door shut behind you with your boot, and grimaced at the sound of it slamming, and the glass shaking in the pane.

Daryl looked over at you curiously, raising an eyebrow where he stood in the kitchen. He was covered in grease, and you guessed he'd been working on his motorcycle whilst you were with the teenage firing squad. 

"How was yer day?" He drawled, pouring you a glass of water from the sink.

You sighed, and slumped into his chest when you reached him - letting your forehead drop against his shirt.

"I think I just threatened a sixteen year old." You mumbled there, and heard him chuckle as you did.

Daryl took a sip of the water, forgetting to offer you some first.

"Yeah, mine was good too." He replied, nonchalantly, and you hit him over the shoulder.

"Daryl-" you whined, not having the energy for playful banter.

He smiled at you sheepishly, and rubbed the back of your head, gently playing with some strands of hair between his fingers. There were oil-stains over his clothes, and he looked like he needed a shower. Though, at this moment, you didn't really care that the grease had rubbed off on you, or that your hair probably looked like coal dust.

"What did Carl do this time?" He asked sarcastically, but it made your blood run hot merely thinking about it.

"My brother didn't do anything." You snapped, and immediately regretted your tone. "It was Ron."

Daryl let out a low laugh, and you felt it rumble through his chest. He squeezed your shoulders, feeling the tension that had built up there.

"Does seem like kind of a lil' shit, don' he?"

You sighed; if only he knew the half of it. Daryl pressed his knuckles against your lower back, relieving the stress from your muscles. You closed your eyes, savouring the feeling.

"He pulled a gun on Carl." You admitted to the man, and instantly noticed as he stopped massaging your skin. "Then aimed it at me when I told him to drop it."

It was like you'd shown a red rag to a bull. Daryl went from completely loving to positively menacing in a matter of seconds, and stormed straight past you towards the door. 

"Daryl, stop-" you called out, panicked. "He's just a kid." 

You grabbed onto the man's shoulder, and he turned on his heels as you did so. His brow was furrowed, and you watched him narrow his eyes like he couldn't at all understand why you held him back.

"And kids should know their damn place." He growled, making your shiver.

You placed your hand over his chest, spreading your palm flat to feel his pounding heartbeat.

"He does. I made sure of it." You said quietly, trying to convince the man. "I'm just regretting the way I handled it."

Daryl immediately noticed the way your voice trailed off, and how your eyes dropped to the floor like you were ashamed. You weren't proud of what you did; but it needed to be done. You couldn't risk anything happening to your family - not when you'd all fought this hard just to stay together.

The man brought his hand to your cheek, coaxing you to look up and meet his eyes. You did, and he placed a soft, chaste kiss to your forehead - which you could feel him smile into ever so slightly.

"Is he still breathin'?" He mumbled against your skin, seeming to have calmed down enough to comfort you, instead.

"What-" you stuttered, before registering his words. "Yes, of course." You spoke, a little too loudly and a little too quickly.

Daryl chuckled, and wiped away some oil he'd gotten on your face with his thumb.

"Then ya handled it jus' fine."

There was a knock at your door not even an hour later. You'd told Daryl you would get it, but he bounded there before you had the chance - instructing you to stay on the couch and keep your feet up. He'd gotten a blanket and tucked you in so tightly that it felt like you were on an army base. You giggled to yourself, wondering if there was anything that man wouldn't do for you.

"Is she there?" Ron asked Daryl, mustering every ounce of confidence he had. "I want to apologise."

He scowled back, and practically snarled at the boy barely half his size but twice as stupid. Daryl was sure he could knock him on his ass as easy as the wind blowing a piece of paper through the breeze. He was scrawny, and fumbled with his hands like he couldn't dare to meet his eyes.

"Listen here, ya lil' prick." Daryl spoke, biting out the words. "Ya pull that shit again an' you'll have me to deal with."

You flipped the page of your magazine, re-reading the events from over a year ago and mumbling something about 'yesterday's news.' You tried your hardest to relax, but you had a nagging feeling that you couldn't escape from - making you feel antsy and on edge.

"Hi." Came the voice, wobbling through your living room like it was coated in a layer of shyness. "I just came to say I'm sorry." 

Whipping your head around, you caught sight of Ron, shifting uncomfortably in the doorway. Daryl stood behind him, like he was blocking any escape route he may have planned - but in reality, he looked like a grouchy guard dog having come to make sure you were okay.

For the second time today, you felt speechless, and slowly closed your magazine before tucking it underneath a pillow. Not even an hour ago had you staked your life on how intimidating you could seem, and now you were bundled up near the fire like a grandmother with arthritis. You blinked, and stood up quickly - letting the woven blanket fall to the floor and kicking it under the couch like a poorly kept secret.

"I guess I was jealous of Carl." Ron continued, feeling pressured by your lack of response. "I'll never do anything like that again. I promise."

You met his eyes but he looked away, staring at the photo frames littering your walls - and resting his gaze over the picture of you, Carl and Judith in the centre.

"Damn right you won't." You finally replied, and watched the boy flinch like your words had cut him open.

"Come here." You instructed, and he listened.

When he approached, you slumped back down onto the couch, not caring if he noticed your glossy magazine slipping out from under the pillows. You patted the space next to you, gesturing for him to sit. He did, and the two of you stared into the red flames of the fire, watching them jump and splutter in front of you.

"When we're scared, we do stupid things." You told Ron, your voice coming out a lot softer than it had done before.

You caught sight of Daryl in the corner of your eye, leaning against the doorframe like he was content to watch from afar - leaving you to finish what you'd started. He'd always have your back, but sometimes he just wanted to hang back to see where you decided to take him.

"In this new world, you only have two options." You explained, and gave Ron's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

The boy jumped a little at your touch, but soon settled into it when he realised how different it was from earlier that day.

"You can either fight it, or accept it." You said, listening to the crackle of firewood as it turned into red embers. "Fear it, or control it."

A/N For my sweet @alex-sulli who always leaves the most wonderful comments that never fail to make my day :)

Send me a message if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!

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[deaththesyd]

Typical Morning

It's late, but I've finally managed to finish! I admit, I struggled a lot with this one, I actually started writing 2 different fics, both went absolutely nowhere before this beauty came to me as I brushed my teeth this morning.

Hopefully worth the wait, here's my entry for Kisame Week Day 3 Prompt: Domesticity. @kisameweek-2021

Summary:

Living with the Akatsuki, even brushing your teeth is an ordeal.

Being a Hoshigaki was something Kisame both struggled with and was proud of. His heritage gifted him plenty of things, vast chakra reserves, adaptability to aquatic environments, a heightened sense of sight and smell, but there were plenty of drawbacks. One of the many things he wasn’t thankful for was the sheer amount of teeth he had to take care of. Sure, like his ancestors, his teeth would fall out and replace themselves unlike other humans, but that didn’t mean he could neglect them. Flossing, brushing, and mouthwash was needed regularly to keep his razor-sharp teeth pearly white. His teeth were nestled in rough rows and were a nightmare to clean, but having suffered through cavities before, Kisame took great care to avoid the nonstop aches again. Recently his on-the-road routine had been changed, and now instead of taking care of the task when in between missions, it was now a morning staple. Living with six other people in a home with only one bathroom was definitely an ordeal sometimes, but for his mornings there was only one other person who typically woke around the same time as him.

Trudging into the bathroom lazily, hair a mess and wearing an oversized t-shirt, she bumped into him gently, budging her way towards the sink to begin her own morning rituals. His large frame hogged the space easily, but he obliged and shifted enough for her to pop out her retainer and grab for the dental floss. Thankfully he was already done with that particular task and was already carefully brushing his teeth with his new toothbrush, provided by the smaller woman in front of him. It was funny to him, the sight of her leaning over the sink to stare at the mirror while she flossed while he towered over her. Even if she was standing at her full height she would never come close to impeding his view. Even with the clear view of him in her sights, she was too focussed on her back molar to notice his movement before he gave her a playful jab in her side with his free hand. A startled squeak left her lips before she glared at the reflection of his evil smirk. Rolling her eyes she moved out of the way to let him spit into the sink, tossing the used floss into the trash as she went.

Finally reaching for the mouthwash to finish up, he felt her press against him to grab her toothbrush and toothpaste. Playfully he moved it farther away, making her whine. Again she pushed into him, stretching farther and leaning her whole weight against him, but as her fingers brushed the brush cup, he picked it up and held it above her reach. There were only a few ways for her to win this one, and he was betting that either she wouldn’t be bold enough to attempt them, or that she would try and fail. What he didn’t think of was that she would step onto the toilet cover and launch herself at him. Wrenching it from him with her own grip was impossible, but he let her have it anyway, his own reward for her creative tactic. Landing beside she grinned at him in victory and he dramatically stepped back from the sink, gesturing at it letting her know it was all hers. Proudly she took her place and brushed her teeth, only being interrupted by him leaning over her shoulder to spit his mouthwash. Something she protested with a toothpaste garbled “Hey!” Teeth clean and breath minty fresh, he left her to finish after quickly messing around her hair before she could bat his hand away. This earned him another glare, but he just laughed it off as he exited.

Wearing a snarky grin, he spotted Itachi and Kakuzu sat in the living room, reading. Kakuzu grumbled that they were too loud, but Kisame paid him no mind. He knew that as long as they hadn’t woken up Hidan or Deidara early, they weren’t going to actually earn the irritated wrath of the grouchy man.

“Is this going to be an everyday occurrence?” Itachi asked, not looking up from the page he was on. Kisame’s grin grew just a little wider, but before he could respond they heard the muffled reply from the bathroom.

“It better not be, he’s gonna make me late for work,” she said. Kisame laughed, earning a hard glare from Kakuzu. Even without Hidan and Deidara’s loud presence, it seemed the old man was doomed to be annoyed, but that didn’t mean he wanted them to be added to the early morning commotion. Once again, Kisame didn’t pay him any mind, instead, he grabbed the back of the shirt collar she was wearing as she rushed by. Caught off guard, she gasped, before huffing up at him, her frustration, much like Kakuzu's, wasn't taken seriously.

“Dude, seriously, I’m gonna be late for work!” She protested a bit too loudly, shifting Kakuzu’s glare from Kisame to her. Shrinking in on herself, she averted her eyes from the menacing man and looked over at Itachi, the only one she could rely on to control the teasing shark.

Itachi sighed and turned his attention towards the tall man, who was enjoying seeing the small woman struggle against his hold. “Let her go, that���s enough, Kisame”. With a quiet chuckle, he let go of her right as she pulled back and she fell to the ground clumsily with an “oof”. This made the shark man’s laughter even louder, as she whined.

Kakuzu growled at them to “Shut the hell up!”, to which they immediately heard the muffled complaints from downstairs, which made Itachi sigh again as he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

No longer caring about the noise level, the woman scrambled from her spot on the floor and made it to the doorway leading to the basement stairs, letting out a yelp as she heard a loud crash behind her. Kakuzu’s attack had been blocked by Kisame, who had then tackled the old man from the reclining chair with a loud bang. Kisame heard her yell “Don’t destroy the house!” from the stairway, as he worked to pin the enraged man to the floor. The impromptu wrestling match lasted only a short while. Kakuzu was easy to piss off, but a drawn-out fight first thing in the morning wasn’t something he preferred, and a struggle with Kisame wasn’t something easily finished like it was with Hidan. The two large men drew apart and without a snarky word or taunt, Kisame flopped onto the couch next to Itachi and flicked on the TV. Soon enough they were joined by Hidan and Deidara, who, thankfully, were still waking up and weren’t too loud just yet.

The excitement from the early morning was quickly forgotten by the time a blur passed Kisame’s vision towards the front door. Dressed in her work clothes, hair brushed out and pulled into a bun, she appeared ready for work, and noting the time on the analog clock that sat on one of the side tables, she wasn’t late. “Sasori says the next time you guys make that much noise he’s gonna poison our food,” she said, unbothered, as she laced up her boots.

“I wasn’t even awake!” Hidan groaned, and Deidara hummed in agreement. She turned and looked apologetically towards them as she opened the door.

“I actually told him that it was Kakuzu’s fault” she called before closing the door behind her. Once again, Kisame was the one to keep Kakuzu from breaking anything as he flared with anger. This time, the fight didn’t end quickly, as both Hidan and Deidara were there to egg them on. Itachi narrowly avoided a loose swing as he bookmarked his page and fled to the kitchen, passing the stairway to the basement as Sasori’s large body entered the living room to swing his scorpion tail into the fray, immediately aiming for Hidan and Deidara, causing an all-out battle to erupt in the quaint living room. As Kisame managed to smash Kakuzu’s face into the floor, he wondered how brushing his teeth had led to this.

[blitzturtles]

Title: Can't Fix Everything

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Diamond is Unbreakable (Future Fic)

Pairing(s): JotaHan

Summary: Jotaro frowns when he rings the doorbell and no one answers. It’s not as though he’s unexpected. He and Rohan had discussed this beforehand, but he knows that it’s entirely possible that Rohan got too caught up in his work. That he’s got his eyes glued to the pages with such a hyperfixation that he hadn’t even heard the doorbell going off.

Notes: When I went to write the ‘Flail Chest’ piece, I couldn’t make up my mind if I wanted it to be with Jotaro or Josuke, so here’s the Jotaro version (if it can be called that. Same injury, very different story.) Ngl, kind of frustrated with the end, but I've been sitting on this for a few weeks now.

[Copy and pasted from the Josuke version: Unimportant bit of trivia: the first rib fixation for adolescent flail chest wasn’t actually done until ~2006, but this is fic, so fuck it.

Flail chest: When a section of the chest wall becomes detached due to the ribs being broken in two or more places. The treatment for this can be a wait and see method (with pain management and physical therapy), but there’s also rib fixation, which is a surgical procedure that can help dramatically reduce short and long-term complications.

The rib injury is canon; the extent of it in this fic, not so much.]

-

Jotaro frowns when he rings the doorbell and no one answers. It’s not as though he’s unexpected. He and Rohan had discussed this beforehand, but he knows that it’s entirely possible that Rohan got too caught up in his work. That he’s got his eyes glued to the pages with such a hyperfixation that he hadn’t even heard the doorbell going off. At least, that’s what Jotaro tells himself. How he tries to rationalize the lack of response.

Unfortunately, too many years on this earth-- facing some of the worst creatures to have ever disgraced her surface-- means that Jotaro has a good idea when he’s being pointlessly paranoid and when his ‘gut feeling’ is something to be taken seriously, and he’s feeling the latter right about now.

Star breaks the door’s lock with a particularly nasty twist of the knob. It’s nothing Jotaro can’t fix with a quick trip to the hardware store later, but that doesn’t matter right now.

“Rohan?” He calls into the seemingly empty house. The majority of the lights are off, and there’s no movement. No sound, and it’s far too early for Rohan to consider bed, which means he’s either closed in his studio or gone.

Jotaro makes a beeline for the familiar door that leads to Rohan’s sanctuary. It’s possible Rohan went out on a whim. Impulse control isn’t exactly his strong suit, especially when it might be something related to his manga, but it’s smarter to check the one place Rohan haunts most in life before bothering with anywhere else.

The door is unlocked, which doesn’t necessarily mean anything, though it doesn’t stop Jotaro’s heart from hammering away in his chest. There’s a flash of red across his vision, like a filter of blood, but he shakes it off in favor of taking in the room. He can’t let his past trauma affect him now.

Or maybe he can, because there Rohan is. On the floor, huddled partway beneath his desk. There’s a low whine that accompanies the screwed up features, and it’s all Jotaro needs to know that Rohan is in pain. A significant amount of it.

“Fuck,” Jotaro grinds out. He makes his way to Rohan quickly. Star Platinum itches to freeze time. A natural reaction to walking into an obviously bad situation with little information to work with, but Jotaro won’t waste the opportunity. They might only have one shot to work with, and he can’t waste it before he even knows what he’s walked into.

Carefully, he crouches in front of Rohan, His eyes don’t quite fixate on the mangaka. Instead, he’s too busy taking in their surroundings, searching for a threat.

Rohan startles and yelps. “What the fuck?” He grinds out after the initial shock washes over both of them.

“I could ask you the same thing. What happened?” Jotaro demands. His gaze shifts to Rohan. It’s a raking thing. Slow and deliberate as he searches for any sign of injury. There’s no blood that he can see. No limbs twisted horrifically out of place, and no holes punched where they don’t belong. Jotaro doesn’t allow himself to relax. There’s obviously something wrong; he just hasn’t figured it out yet.

“Ribs,” Rohan breathes out after a moment of hesitation. The mere effort of talking leaves him struggling for air.

Jotaro’s frown deepens, and he tunes out the rest of the world to focus on Rohan.

“Let me see.”

“No.”

“Rohan.”

“Go away.”

“Kishibe,” Jotaro grinds out. He doesn’t have time to put up with Rohan being a toddler when he could have a punctured lung.

“Fine,” Rohan concedes, though doesn’t move.

Jotaro sighs and carefully maneuvers Rohan onto his side. He uses Star’s hands as a cushion between Rohan’s body and the floor. A gentle effort to avoid making the situation worse, and, for once, Jotaro is incredibly thankful for Rohan’s penchant for crop tops. It’s a convenience-- rather than a nuisance and a distraction-- in a time like this.

Slowly, Jotaro pushes the fabric out of the way, and he sucks in a sharp breath out of sympathy the moment he gets an eyeful of the bruising that’s blossomed across Rohan’s side.

“That Stand got you right in that old wound of your’s, huh?” Jotaro asks. He barely resists the urge to reach out and touch the scars hidden underneath the black and blue mess. He’s known about their existence for a while, though Rohan rarely lets him lay eyes on them for more than a few seconds at a time.

There’s three scars in total, and each one runs the length of a rib, starting at Rohan’s sternum and wrapping around midway to his spine. A childhood injury from a freak accident that still causes unnecessary pain.

(”Why not just let Josuke heal you?” Jotaro remembers asking the first time he caught a glimpse of the scars.

“Josuke can’t fix everything,” Rohan had answered, short and irritable.)

Jotaro wonders if Rohan would allow Josuke to help now. If only to take the edge off, but Jotaro will worry about calling his nephew later. For now, he’s more concerned with getting Rohan off the floor and checked over properly. Jotaro hadn’t seen Rohan take a hit, which means that he has no idea how hard it had been or what kind of damage they might be dealing with. There could be internal bleeding, a collapsed lung, or god knows what else. The bruising is extensive enough, and Rohan’s breathing is ragged. Too shallow and a touch uneven.

“What gave you that idea?” Rohan snarls at him, breaking Jotaro out of his thoughts. He forgot how ill-tempered the mangaka is when he’s hurting.

“Good grief,” Jotaro mutters, though he takes it as a positive sign that Rohan’s got enough fight in him to make this as difficult as possible.

As carefully as possible, he scoops Rohan up into his arms. It isn’t easy, given the location of the wound, but he only makes Rohan whimper rather than scream. That has to count for something.

The path to the bedroom is blessedly short, considering the size of Rohan’s house. Jotaro gently deposits the mangaka on his oversized bed and heads for the en suite bathroom to retrieve the bottle of prescription painkillers that he knows Rohan underutilizes whenever possible (Rohan doesn’t like what they do to his head, and Jotaro can’t say that he blames him). It takes some rummaging, but he manages to find the pills and a cup to pour some water into.

“Here,” Jotaro says once he returns to the bedroom. To his surprise, Rohan takes both the cup and the proffered pills without complaint. He swallows the painkillers dry and chases them down with the water before falling back against the pillows with a quiet groan.

Jotaro takes that as his permission to resume his earlier inspection. Once again, he rolls the edge of the crop top up and tries not to grimace at the sight that greets him. It’s definitely no better than before, not that he had expected it to be. There’s more bruising than not on the scarred side, and some of it has branched across, spreading to the other side. Despite how horrific it looks, Rohan’s breathing is mostly even. It’s obvious that he’s in pain and holding back, but the lung seems to be inflating properly, which is… something. Far from great, but definitely better than the alternative.

Slowly, Jotaro palpates the area. All while ignoring the squirming and gasped breaths that he gets from Rohan. At some point, Rohan has enough, and he tries to swat Jotaro away, but he pulls back before Rohan can reach him.

“I don’t think you’re bleeding internally,” Jotaro announces with a barely level tone. Relief edges his words despite his attempt to keep his tone even. He tries not to think of what could have happened if Rohan had been left alone, bleeding internally, and without any way to call for help. Jotaro chastises himself for not noticing the hit or its aftermath. How could he have missed something so obvious? He can’t imagine that Rohan had been able to fully hide it.

“Fantastic,” Rohan grits out with a roll of his eyes. The way he relaxes into the mattress gives him away, though. He’d been scared.

“I’m going to go get some ice for that. Do you need anything else?”

“No,” Rohan says too quickly. His fingers twitch, but he doesn’t speak up again. Jotaro takes that as his sign to go ahead, and he wanders downstairs and toward the kitchen.

The pantries are unsurprisingly bare, though Jotaro manages to find a baggie to put a decent amount of ice into. He grabs the hand towel off the counter to wrap the makeshift pack in and heads back upstairs, where he finds Rohan exactly where he left him. He hasn’t moved so much as an inch. It’s one more sign of the agony he must be in.

“Do you want me to call Josuke?” Jotaro asks, already knowing the answer. He passes Rohan the ice pack, figuring it will be better if Rohan places it himself. The cold is already going to make him tense up, and he doesn’t need the added pain.

“No.”

“He doesn’t have to see.”

“No.”

Jotaro gives a half shrug, “If you insist.”

“I do,” Rohan sniffs, snooty and irritated until he places the wrapped ice against his skin. He hisses and jolts away from it, but it only takes a moment before he relaxes and presses the pack that much closer. “Stop being a mother and lie down. ‘m not going anywhere anytime soon.” It’s not meant to be a reassurance, but Jotaro takes it that way anyways.

“I could call the Foundation.”

“Don’t you dare,” Rohan shoots back like Jotaro’s words had been a threat. They hadn’t. It’s an offer to have a specialist come to Rohan rather than to force Rohan to the hospital, but it doesn’t surprise Jotaro that he took it to be something else entirely.

“You’re wheezing,” Jotaro points out with the same frown he’s been wearing since he found Rohan on the floor.

“I’m fine. Get in this bed or get out.”

Jotaro can’t help thinking the words might hold more weight if Rohan weren’t practically wheezing them, but he decides to let the subject drop for now. There’s no apparent sign of an emergency. Yet. He’s not sure he can relax enough to get comfortable, but he does toe off his shoes. He rolls onto his side after another moment of contemplation. At least this position allows for him to keep an eye on Rohan without jostling him too much.

Rohan rolls his eyes, but he settles against the mattress with a half-shrug. A ‘suit yourself’ sort of gesture that’s far milder than the rest of his responses have been. His eyes slide shut and he keeps his hand firmly pressed to the ice he’s still holding to his side. His hold is still too tight, and his posture is too stiff. Jotaro wishes he could do more, but he knows how chronic pain goes. There’s really nothing more either of them can do now other than sit and wait for the medication to kick in. Rohan won’t see Josuke, and he’d probably bite Jotaro if the older man tried to take him to the hospital. Waiting is their only option, and time moves at an impossibly slow pace.

Nearly thirty minutes go by in complete silence. Rohan keeps his eyes stubbornly screwed shut, and Jotaro watches him unashamedly. The moment he thinks Rohan is getting worse, he’s dragging both of them to the nearest hospital, repercussions be damned.

Likewise, he keeps having to remind himself to take a breath. Rohan is alive and-- well, mostly-- breathing, granted it looks strained and painful, but it’s better than the alternative. Better than the rattle that Jotaro’s heard too many times before, and there’s no needless gasping. Only the occasional, low whine that manages to slip its way past Rohan’s thin-pressed lips.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Rohan’s body begins to relax. His limbs go slack against the mattress, and his core sinks downwards. He’s no longer holding stiff as a board, and the difference is nearly palpable. Jotaro can see the moment exhaustion takes its hold over pain, and Rohan begins to slip under the blanket that is sleep.

Jotaro takes the risk of removing Rohan’s headband then. His fingers card through the mess of hair left behind. Rohan leans into the touch like it’s the best thing he’s felt in awhile, and it probably is, given what his body’s just gone through. Jotaro won’t deny him that bit of relief, so he continues to pet through Rohan’s hair until there are soft snores escaping the mangaka. Even then, he doesn’t stop. The last thing he wants is to accidentally wake Rohan up.

Eventually being curled on his side and having nowhere to go takes its toll. Jotaro’s eyelids grow heavier the longer he stays put, and he doesn’t bother to fight the sleep that settles in his limbs first and comes for his mind second.

[mc-lukanette]

"Marinette!" Sabine called from downstairs. "Breakfast is ready!"

Marinette stirred, groaning as she shifted underneath the covers. It was one of the very few days where she didn't have anything in particular to do, so the last thing she wanted was to be woken up so early like her mother had just done to her.

Still, she knew it'd be rude to just lie there without responding, so she threw the blanket off of herself and shouted, "On my way!"

She yawned, far too tired to be in the waking world but forcing herself up anyway. She didn't even bother looking in the mirror, accepting whatever nightmare sleeping with her hair down had caused. It was a lazy day and she was determined to keep it that way, especially with how nice and warm she felt.

It was probably the warmest she'd ever felt, really.

She opened her trapdoor, letting out some variation of "good morning" as she descended the stairs, thankful that the smell of breakfast was enough to keep her moving.

Tom, having just set her plate down on the table, turned to greet her with a smile. "Good morni—"

Marinette stopped short of sitting down when she'd noticed that he'd cut himself off, a silly smile breaking out onto his face. She could even hear Sabine giggling behind her.

"Papa? What is it?"

He propped an elbow onto the table and leaned on it, looking at her with interest. "Thinking about anyone today, Marinette?"

"Huh?" She blinked, completely thrown off by the question and way too sleepy for it regardless. "Uh, not really?" She slid herself into her seat, picking up her fork before immediately dropping it as she noted, "Oh, I guess I am thinking about Luka. I hope he likes the jacket I gave him last night."

Her parents exchanged a glance, making Marinette immediately suspicious. She squinted, retrieving her fork again. "What?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Sabine inquired. Marinette turned to her, confused, and she clarified, "He's actually been waiting outside the side door for a while now."

"Oh." Marinette paused, then straightened on alert, slamming her fork down on the table as mental clarity hit. "Huh?! Why?!"

"He didn't want to come in until you were awake," Tom explained, still grinning away.

She hurried away from the table, groaning and quickly running her fingers through her hair to neaten it. "You should've said so! I would've been up right away!"

She huffed as she rushed out of the room, mentally preparing a scolding for her parents later. It explained the smiles at least; they'd been messing with her.

She nearly tripped on the way down the stairs due to her fast pace, though still stumbled on the last step and nearly plowed into the door because of it. She scrambled to open it, practically throwing it against the wall as she exclaimed, "Luka! Hi!" to the person standing on the other side.

Luka kept on a calm smile, though it had more energy than usual. "Hey, Marinette." He looked down at his jacket, gripping the fabric for emphasis. "I know I could've texted you, but I wanted to tell you in person that it's amazing. I was wearing it all evening and it's one of the comfiest things I've ever worn. I don't know how you did it, but—"

He went to look back up at her, but suddenly choked on his own words, mouth still hanging open as he seemed to really take her in. Marinette, meanwhile, simply blinked, not understanding the pause. She supposed that she looked a little ragged from just getting out of bed, but—

oh, right, she was still in her pajamas.

Immediately, her hands flew to cover any bare skin that Luka wouldn't have been used to seeing, only to be thwarted as her fingers touched fabric, not skin. Confusion settled in for a few seconds before memories of last night returned to her sleep-deprived mind. Hesitantly, her gaze drifted downwards, her face going pale as cold realization washed over her.

She was wearing Luka's hoodie-jacket combo; that's what everyone had been reacting to.

She peered up at Luka, seeing that his eyes were still locked on his clothes she was wearing. Panic spiking, she immediately began taking it off.

"O-oh, wow!" she said loudly. "How did this get here? I'm sorry, there must've been a mistake! I'm so out of it in the morning, and it was really cold out, and my parents woke me up so I was tired, and I guess I just picked your jacket up by accident! Don't you just hate it when that happens? Anyway, here you go!"

She shoved the mass of fabric into his arms, turning on her heel and fleeing in the other direction. She couldn't even take the first few steps before she heard the clothes hit the floor and felt Luka's arms wrap around her waist, pulling her to him and keeping her there. She squeaked, blushing all the way to her ears, but didn't force him away.

"Is that the truth?" he asked quietly, voice heavy with an emotion she didn't dare call hope.

She shifted, trying to swallow her nerves while remaining wrapped in his hold. His tone alone indicated that he knew her story was a lie, and she had already felt bad for lying in the first place. He was just too perceptive, and it was one of the many things she loved about him.

"...N-no," she admitted. "It's not."

He hugged her tighter, burying his face in the spot between her neck and shoulder. She could feel him exhale against her skin and shuddered at the sensation.

"I-I'm sorry," she stammered, "It was just—you left your jacket and you wear it all the time so I always remember how it felt whenever we hugged or anything, t-then I missed you after you left and I wanted to know how it felt to wear something of yours and it ended up being really w-warm so—" Her voice briefly cracked. "—I slept in it and I know it's weird and I'm sorry again—"

"No," Luka gently interjected.

"H-huh?"

"It's not weird at all, at least not to me," he whispered, his face apparently making a home in her hair. "You don't think I'd wear your jacket all the time if I was shorter than you?"

"Wh—" She blinked, jarred put of her panicked state by that reaction. "Really...?"

"Mhm," he hummed in reply. He paused, thoughtful, then raised his head up to add, "I wish I was, actually, now that I think about it."

"L-luka!" she gasped.

He chuckled happily, apparently unphased by her reaction. It finally registered with her that he was truly, honestly charmed by her wearing his jacket. She'd gotten so used to people judging her that—

...Well, Luka was always the exception.

"T-then—!" She turned her upper body around in his arms, their faces mere centimeters away. "I'll make a jacket that's really big on me, a-and I'll wear it all the time, and then you can wear that!"

His surprised expression melted into a warm smile, and it only then occurred to her how close their faces were. She wasn't sure her face had ever been that close to his, actually. His eyes were the same pretty blue that they always were and his pink lips were twice as tempting when he smiled like that.

"Please do, Marinette," he replied.

Deep down, she knew he was referring to the jacket idea, but her body wasn't listening. Her lips met his, and she didn't have time to doubt the impulse because he immediately kissed her back. His loosened his hug on her so she could comfortably face him, then tightened it right back up to pull her close. She slipped her hands underneath his Marinette-brand jacket, sliding her hands along his back to embrace him in return. Luka hummed contentedly, one hand moving up the back of her shirt to stroke along her spine. Though he was careful not to touch her bare skin, she shivered anyway.

They pulled apart with a soft clicking noise after what was probably far too long when her parents were in the same building as them. Marinette reluctantly pulled her hands away, occupying herself by toying with the fabric of the jacket he was wearing.

"S-s—" She swallowed, knowing it shouldn't have been a hard question considering they'd just made out. "Stay for breakfast?"

He grinned like the absolute dork that he was, his hands moving to hold hers. "Not long enough. Can I stay for lunch too?"

She unintentionally mirrored his grin, nodding eagerly. "Please do, Luka."

He closed the door behind him while she picked up and put his hoodie+jacket combo back on, the two eagerly holding hands as they ascended the staircase.

[mint-yooxgi]

False Alarm - Yandere!Ten X Reader X Yandere!Taemin

Yandere!AU & Bodyguard!AU - based off of these teaser photos and loosely inspired by False Alarm by The Weeknd

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Smut (Not a threesome, but someone gets pinned to a wall 👀)

Pairing: Taemin X Reader X Ten

Words: 28,650

Warnings: This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: On the fifth day of ficmas, Jackie gave to me~ It’s here~ Three months in counting holy shit. This is now the longest one shot I have ever written in my life, so I do really hope you all like it. I’m very proud of it! Here I was, thinking this would be maybe 10k at the most, but nope, lmaoo. Don’t mind any spelling mistakes that have made it past countless rounds of editing please, or any grammar mistakes lol. As always, I do not believe Taemin, nor Ten, would act like this, this is just my interpretation of the archetype. Please do let me know what you all think about this one, and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

It shouldn’t surprise you anymore; by now, you should be used to it. Being the president’s daughter and all. Assassination attempts that is. However, you still cannot help the chill in your veins when certain incidents take place.

Surprisingly, there haven’t been too many attempts on your father’s life, but more recently, they have been increasing, becoming more dangerous each time. It started getting more serious when they started coming after your mother. Now, they’re even coming after you.

You have a feeling they have something to do with the new law your father is trying to implement on taxing the rich, as well as establishing a tighter hold on the underground markets. He wants to strengthen gun control, and create a more peaceful nation, but unfortunately, there are always those that oppose such ideals.

It’s early in the afternoon when your father calls you downstairs and into the first floor study. 

The first thing you notice as soon as you reach the main floor, is the amount of security now in your house. You’re glad that you have the added protection, but you hope your privacy won’t be affected too much.

Entering the study after knocking gently, your gaze is immediately drawn to the two unfamiliar men standing on either side of your father, who is currently sitting behind his antique desk. You see Siwon, your father’s personal guard, standing off to the side. Sending a nod his way, you see him nod back before you move your gaze to your father, locking eyes with him in the next second. Understanding crosses your features.

“Given the recent events, I can gather from your expression that you’ve already put together what I’m about to say,” your father begins, letting out a sigh as you stand before him, the two unfamiliar men staring you down.

“I can only assume until you tell me the truth,” you reply, quirking your brow at your father.

“You certainly got your mother’s wit, that’s for sure,” he chuckles, looking at you with amusement clear in his eyes.

“Damn, I could have sworn I got it from you,” you tease, a smirk pulling at your lips.

“Anyways,” your father clears his throat, becoming serious once more, “(Y/n), I’d like you to meet your two new bodyguards, Taemin,” he motions to the blond man standing at attention to his left, “and Ten.” He motions to the black haired man standing off to his right. “They will be accompanying you everywhere starting today, for your protection.”

“Understood,” you nod at your father, shifting your attention to each men standing to either side of him as you bow your head slightly. “It’s nice to meet the both of you, thank you for agreeing to be my personal bodyguards.”

They nod back to you, remaining silent as your father continues to talk, “their first priority is keeping you safe, no matter what the cost. Do you understand?”

“Yes, father,” you respond, bowing in respect towards him.

“Good,” he nods, watching as you stand back up. “That is all I wanted to talk to you about, so you’re free to go now.”

With a final nod towards your father, and a brief nod towards Siwon once more, you’re exiting the room, the two new men following you closely. Nothing is said between the three of you as you lead them through your house and to your bedroom. After all, you still have some studying to do for your classes tomorrow.

Once you reach your room, you leave the door open for them to follow you in, noticing how the door falls shut behind Ten after he enters the room. You walk back to your desk where your laptop rests, with a few notebooks and textbooks scattered around it. Waking it from sleep, you sit back down in your chair, wanting to focus back in on this assignment that’s driving you up the wall.

Ten minutes pass by, and you can feel their gazes locked on your back. You know they haven’t stopped staring at you since you left your father’s study, and it’s irritating you. You find it hard to focus when you can feel someone watching you; feeling as if they’re breathing down your neck.

Letting out a sigh, you turn around in your chair to face the two men standing guard by your door.

“Are you guys just going to stand there and stare at my back the whole time?” You question, clear irritation in your voice as your brow quirks.

“It’s what we’ve been instructed to do,” Taemin replies, expression blank as he continues to stare at you.

“That’s cool and all, but you’re making me slightly uncomfortable in my own room,” you sigh once more. “At least sit down and make yourselves at home. Knowing my dad, you’re probably going to be living with us from now on, or at least on certain days. Besides, if you’re going to be with me from now on, practically twenty-four seven, the least you can do for yourselves is get comfortable.”

They say nothing at first, instead looking at each other briefly from the corner of their eyes, having a silent exchange between one another before coming to a silent agreement. Taking your advice, they both move to the little sitting area you have in your room, Ten sitting on the couch while resting his one leg over the cushions and his one arm off the back of the couch, while Taemin chooses to sit in one of the armchairs. 

You turn back around, and even though you can tell they’re still keeping their eyes on you, their gazes aren’t as intense as before. The air in the room feels slightly less tense now, and you find you can now concentrate better on your assignment.

About an hour passes by, and you’re able to finish your assignment. Letting out a relieved sigh, you close your laptop after hitting submit, gathering all your books together to stack them neatly on your desk. Once you’re done, you swivel around in your chair to face them, eyes shining in curiosity. You wait for one of them to say something, but after about two minutes of silence, you realize you’re going to have to be the one to break it.

“Damn, if I wanted it to be this quiet I would have gone to the library,” you joke, noticing how one of Ten’s eyebrows twitch in slight amusement.

“We just wanted to make sure you had peace and quiet while you worked,” he replies, rolling his neck slowly with his eyes closed.

“That’s all fine and dandy, but I’m done now,” you smile, attempting to ease some of the silent tension that still permeates the air, “and considering we’re going to be spending an awful amount of time with each other, why don’t you guys tell me about yourselves. What’s your favourite colour? Animal? Food? What do each of you specialize in? Have you two worked together before?”

“You certainly ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” Taemin replies, slight amusement in his tone as his eyes trail over your body, analyzing you carefully.

“Questions are the curiosities of the mind,” you quip, meeting his eyes and challenging his stare.

You hear Ten let out a laugh, shifting his position to sit forward on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees, “and we’ll answer all of your curiosities to the best of our abilities.”

You shoot him a friendly smile, to which he smirks back at you.

“Well, to start off, we’re brothers,” Ten continues, noticing how your eyes widen slightly.

“Adoptive brothers,” Taemin adds. “So, we’ve pretty much spent every case that we can working together.”

“He’s an expert marksman,” Ten motions to Taemin with his head. “I’ve never seen him miss once.”

“That’s because I don’t,” Taemin remarks smugly. “He’s a master at close quarters combat, no one has ever been able to pin him.”

“Give me a blade and it’s game over,” Ten replies, smirk still evident on his features as he leans back into the couch.

“Noted,” you nod, clearly impressed with what they’ve told you so far. “Remind me to never challenge you in a game of darts,” you joke, locking eyes with Taemin briefly before turning your gaze over to Ten, “and remind me not to challenge you to an arm wrestling match.”

At your words, both of them let out small chuckles.

“So, if you were worried we weren’t qualified to protect you, you don’t need to be troubled about it any longer,” Ten grins, and you roll your eyes playfully.

“As if,” you huff. “The aura the two of you give off when you’re together, not to mention individually, is very intimidating. I never once doubted your capabilities. Besides, I know my dad, and he’d only hire the best people that he believes are capable of protecting us.”

You see them both nod their heads slightly in understanding, noticing how as you’ve been talking, they’ve both seemed to relax a bit more.

For the next hour and a half, the three of you continue getting to know each other. The both of them are impressed with you, their original ideas of you being stuck up and full of yourself since you’re the president’s daughter, now being thrown out the window.

Before they met you, they were both a little hesitant to take this job. The risks aren’t what bothers them, no, it’s the fact that they’d have to spend almost twenty-four hours with you, seven days a week. They were expecting you to be completely different, but from what they’ve gathered, you’re a sassy, kind, intelligent woman who is very aware of her surroundings. Now, they’re both glad they’ve taken this job, for they both cannot wait to spend more time with you, and get to know you even better. Besides, it pays well, too.

Soon enough, you’re being called downstairs for dinner, the two of them following behind you silently. Once you reach the dining room, you take your seat and wait for dinner to be served. You make light conversation over dinner with your parents, fully enjoying this time with them for you all rarely sit down together anymore for a meal like this, given how busy they both are. It warms your heart.

“Don’t forget we have that lecture event at your university in two days’ time,” your mother reminds you.

“I know, mom,” you reply, taking a sip of your drink.

“I can’t wait to embarrass you in front of your entire school,” your dad teases, a light chuckle escaping his lips.

“Dad,” you whine, playing along, “please don’t do anything to ruin my reputation.”

“What reputation?” He jokes, wiggling his eyebrows at you, making you scoff in mock offence.

“Don’t worry dear, I’ll just make sure to give a ten minute rant on how awful your snoring is,” your mother interjects, causing both you and Siwon, who is standing off to the side with Taemin and Ten, to snicker. Even Natasha, your mother’s personal bodyguard lets out a few chuckles of her own.

“Betrayed by my own wife,” your father shakes his head, letting out a few more chuckles of his own.

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” your mom winks at you, “I got your back.”

“Thanks, mom,” you giggle, finishing the remnants of your drink.

Gathering your now empty dishes, you stand up, excusing yourself from the table and thanking your parents for the meal. Moving off to the kitchen, you place your dishes in the sink, and head back to your room for the evening, noticing your two bodyguards following your every movement once more.

Before you reenter your room for the evening, you turn to the two men standing behind you.

“The two of you should eat something,” you say, noticing how Taemin’s brow twitches slightly at your words. “Don’t even think about arguing, you both need to eat. I’ll be fine in my room for the evening, so get some rest afterwards.”

You can see Ten about to protest before Taemin cuts him off, “as you wish.”

With a slight bow of their heads, they’re moving off back down the hall to grab something for dinner.

Opening the door to your room, a small sigh escapes your lips. Closing the door behind you, you rest against it, thoughts swirling through your mind.

Those two can be really intimidating at times, and you get the sense they were very hesitant about you at first. You know it’s their job to protect you, but you’re slightly worried they might not follow their duties fully if they don’t like you very much.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts. Your father would only choose the best people he thought appropriate to protect you, and you trust his judgement. From what you’ve gathered, these two men take their jobs very seriously. You just hope you can get them to open up a bit more, and not be so intimidating, at least, towards you. After all, you want to be able to befriend them. Who knows how long you’ll need them for.

Meanwhile, the two of them move around each of their new respective rooms, unpacking. They share a joint bathroom, of which the doors rest open, so the two of them can converse with one another.

“She seems nice,” Ten comments, hearing Taemin hum from the other room.

“Definitely not what I was expecting,” comes Taemin’s reply.

“One of our better clients, wouldn’t you say?”

“Better than the last one, at least,” Taemin rolls his eyes, slamming the drawer to his dresser shut. “That one was a real piece of work.”

“You can say that again,” Ten huffs, shutting the door to his closet once he’s finished hanging some shirts.

“Still, this one…” Taemin trails off, seemingly looking for the right word as Ten walks into his room, “she’s almost endearing in a way.”

“Her mannerisms are cute, yes,” Ten nods, leaning against the desk in Taemin’s room as Taemin sits on the edge of his bed, the both of them now finished unpacking.

“Nothing like anything we’ve seen before,” Taemin hums, a grin pulling on his lips.

“Don’t tell me you’re interested in our new client,” Ten teases, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“No, no,” Taemin replies, eyes darting over to look at his brother. “Not at all.”

“Good, cause we both know how that turned out the last time,” Ten shakes his head.

The last time either one of them got involved with a client in that way, it ended with the other one of them almost dying. Since then, they’ve agreed not to get too attached to their clients. Hence their cold and intimidating nature. Well, those aspects also come along with the discipline, but even more so now.

Bidding each other a final good night, Ten retreats back into his own room for the evening. Tomorrow is a new day, and they have to be well rested if they’re going to protect you to the best of their abilities.

The next morning, you wake up early to get ready for your classes. Luckily, you only have two, so you should be home some time in the early afternoon.

Once you’ve finished getting ready for the morning, you make your way downstairs. As soon as you open your bedroom door, you see both Ten and Taemin standing guard on the opposite side of your door, startling you slightly.

“Holy- how long have you guys been standing there?” You ask, shutting the door behind you as you pull your bag over your shoulder.

“Not long,” Ten assures you.

“An hour,” Taemin says at the same time, making you blink.

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you continue your trek downstairs, the two of them now following you closely from behind. 

Walking into the kitchen, you see your mother making something for breakfast before she leaves with your father for the day. Sending you a smile, she plates the food before placing it in front of you.

“Thanks, mom,” you say, sending a smile back at her as she places the dishes in the sink before giving you a quick kiss on the forehead and leaving the room, Natasha following behind her silently after sending you a small smile.

Eating silently, you scroll through your phone, checking what you’ve missed since last night. You love your friends, but having some in different timezones can make the group chat read like the morning paper at times. 

Noticing the time, your eyes widen slightly as you realize that if you don’t leave soon, you might be late for your first class. Shoving the last remnants of food into your mouth, you quickly stand up, placing your dishes in the sink while grabbing your bag which you had placed beside you on the other chair.

Heading to the garage, you grab your keys, ready to unlock your car and get into the driver’s seat. However, before you can open the car door, a hand quickly snatches your keys out of your hand.

“Hey!” You complain, frowning as you see Taemin now holding your keys.

“Get in,” he motions to the back, where on the other side, Ten already waits to get in with you. “We’ll be driving you to and from school from now on, and attending all of your classes.”

“Well damn, thanks for the warning,” you huff, taking a step back from the driver’s side in order to get into the back of the vehicle.

He says nothing in response, only choosing to open the driver’s side door and get in, a slight raise to his lips.

The whole ride over to your university is silent, Taemin pulling into the first free parking space when you arrive. The whole time, you’ve been texting your two friends in your first class to meet you just outside the lecture hall, to which they agree.

Getting out of the car, Taemin cuts the engine. You can feel the other student’s eyes on you as you walk towards Building C, flanked by your two new bodyguards. You can hear the whispers of the others as you walk past, but you don’t let it bother you; you’re used to it by now, being the president’s daughter and all.

Entering the building, you see your two friends anxiously waiting for you near the entrance of the lecture hall.

“There you are! Hurry up, the lecture is about to start!” Jongin complains, opening the door to the lecture hall and tugging Ayla along with him, you following close behind.

Checking the time, you roll your eyes slightly, “relax, we still have ten minutes.”

“Yeah, Jongin, relax,” Ayla huffs, amusedly. “We’ve got time. I’d just be worried about not finding good seats.”

“Oh, boo hoo,” you tease, “just because we won’t be able to sit in the front doesn’t mean we won’t get good seats.”

Walking into the main section of the lecture hall, you spot some seats in the second row of the back section, leading the way as the four of them follow you. You’ve noticed that since you’ve entered the lecture hall, most people’s conversations have halted, especially since two new males have walked in with you.

“Who are those two new guys with her?” You overhear someone whisper.

“Damn, I guess being the president’s daughter means you can get whatever guys you want nowadays,” another whispers as you all make it to your seats. Taemin and Ten share a look, sitting to your right.

“Isn’t she with Damien?” Someone else adds.

“What a fucking slut,” you overhear from a few rows over, the harshness in their voice making you suck in a breath.

“That’s it,” Ayla growls, slamming her palms on the table in front of her and preparing to stand up.

“Relax, it’s fine,” you say, gripping her arm to make sure she stays seated and doesn’t do anything drastic.

“No. It’s not,” she counters, Jongin nodding his agreement from beside her. “One of these days those fuckers are going to catch these hands.”

“Thanks, boo,” you send her a small smile.

“Besides, anyone with a brain knows you’re literally the best,” Jongin adds, to which you smile at him.

“Thanks guys,” you say, turning your attention to the front of the room after pulling out your supplies, seeing as how the professor is about to start the lecture.

For the first half of the lecture, you can feel both Ten’s and Taemin’s eyes on you, before shifting their gazes around the room, carefully observing everyone and everything. You fail to notice the slight furrow in their brows the whole time, confused, and slightly concerned, about you.

At the end of your first class, you’re bidding farewell to Jongin and Ayla, who walk away hand in hand after waving goodbye to you. A slight smile is on your face, sorrowful in a way, as you watch them walk away. You could not be more happy for them being together, but it just reminds you of your nonexistent love life. Being the president’s daughter can have its downsides.

Sighing, you begin moving off to your second, and final, class for the day, located in Building A. You walk in silence, the two men following behind you and serving to intimidate anyone who walks in your path.

Checking your phone just before entering the building, a small smile lights up your face. Damien’s already in class waiting for you, and he’s saved you a seat.

Entering the class, you see an excited Damien waving at you enthusiastically. Waving back, you make your way over to the seat he’s saved for you, noticing that Ten and Taemin will have to sit directly behind you if they want to stay close to you. For that, you’re kind of grateful. Having them next to you in your first class was kind of distracting, especially since they were staring at you for half of it. Luckily, this class is much smaller than your first, so they won’t be able to draw too much attention to themselves. However, it still doesn’t stop the whispers from forming at the mouths of the other students, which you choose to ignore for the time being.

“Hey,” Damien greets as you take the seat next to him. “Ayla’s already told me about what happened early. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m used to it by now,” you shrug, pulling out your supplies for the class.

“You shouldn’t have to be,” he mutters, frown evident on his face before his expression is lightening up in the next moment. “Anyways, what’s with the posse?” He motions to the two men sitting behind you with his head. “They your new bodyguards or something?”

“Actually, yes,” you nod, noticing how Damien’s jaw drops.

“Damn, that’s hot,” he wiggles his brows at you. “Are either of them single?”

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask them,” you quirk a brow, ready to turn around before he stops you.

“Don’t embarrass me in front of them, I’m pretty sure they can hear me,” he whines.

Sneaking a glance over your shoulder, you see both of their amused faces, causing you to laugh, “for sure they can.”

“Oh god,” he groans, face planting onto the desk. “I’m going to make myself feel better and just believe they can’t date on the job.”

“I don’t even know if they’re single,” you reply, a slight teasing tone in your voice.

“Whatever, I still have you, don’t I?” He grins, turning his head to look at you from his position on the desk.

“Of course,” you grin back. “Still down to get married if we’re both still single at thirty-five?”

“Damn right I am,” he sits back up, smiling along with you. “Who else could put up with you?”

“Excuse me! I’m a delight to be around,” you scoff.

“Oh, yeah? Says who?” He smirks.

“My elementary and high school teachers,” you reply, sticking your tongue out at him as the two of you laugh. You can faintly hear a few chuckles coming from behind you, but you brush them off.

“I don’t think being ‘a pleasure to have in class’ counts,” Damien teases, nudging your arm slightly.

“You’re just jealous that all of our teachers liked me better,” you jokingly huff, nudging his arm back.

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles a few times, “whatever you say.”

“Anyways, did you manage to finish the assignment for today?” You ask him, taking out your laptop.

“Fuck, just barely,” he sighs dramatically, “I was up all night finishing it before class today. What about you?”

“Finished it yesterday,” you hum, setting up a fresh document for taking notes.

“Of course, I should have known,” he grins. “I don’t even need to ask anymore, you’re usually done assignments a day before they’re due anyways.”

“Procrastination is a hard habit to shake,” you mutter.

“You call that procrastinating!” Damien half-yells, eyes wide as you hear a huff of amusement come from behind you.

“Shut up, class is about to start,” you can’t fight the grin of amusement that pulls at your lips as you both turn to face front, looking at the professor as they begin the lecture for the day.

Again, the whole time you’re taking notes, you can feel Ten’s and Taemin’s gazes on your back. So much so, that halfway through class you type out a ‘stop staring at my back’ into your notes, bold it, and make it a bigger font for them to see as you subtly lean to the side so they can read it. They seem to take the hint and for the rest of the class, you barely feel their eyes on you, but you can tell Damien is feeling a bit uncomfortable. They must have shifted their gazes from you to him.

Eventually, class ends, and you agree to hang out with Damien for the next hour before his next class begins. Even though you’re done for the day, you enjoy spending time with your best friend.

Walking to the building where his next class is, you all grab food, sitting at a table just across from the lecture hall. You and Damien continue to converse as you eat, while the two other men eat in silence, continuing to observe the area, and more particularly, you.

“Wait, is that Minhyuk?” Damien says, squinting his eyes slightly at a figure across the way.

Your eyes follow his gaze as both Ten and Taemin turn around to look at the now approaching male. Minhyuk’s eyes lock with yours, a smile pulling at his lips, only causing you to groan in response.

“Why can’t he just leave me alone?” You groan, placing your head in your hands, only to look up in the next moment with a brilliant fake smile plastered on your face as Minhyuk reaches your table.

Ten and Taemin share a look.

“Hey, (Y/n), how are you today?” He leans his one hand on the table, completely ignoring the three other males that are with you.

“Well, my day was going great until you showed up,” you chirp, causing Taemin and Ten to look at you in slight confusion.

“Oh, baby, you hurt me so,” he mocks offence, placing a hand over his heart as if he’s actually been hurt by your words. “Anyways, I saw you sitting here and I couldn’t help myself but to come over and see if-“

“No,” you immediately cut him off, expression morphing into one of disinterest, no longer being bothered to act cheerful anymore.

“But you haven’t even heard what I was going to ask-“

“I said no,” you lock eyes with him. “It was a no last time. It’s a no this time, and it will always be a no.”

Ten and Taemin observe the situation, waiting to intervene at a moments notice, though they’re a bit confused, and curious, as to what this whole situation is about. Damien sips on his drink in amusement, watching the entire situation play out before his eyes as he leans back in his chair.

“Come on, babe, we both know I’ll be worth your while,” Minhyuk smirks, only serving to irritate you further. His eyes flick to the two unfamiliar males sitting with you as he goes on to say, “we both know I’m the only one who can really make you scream.”

“In frustration, yeah,” you reply, quirking a brow. “And don’t flatter yourself, I’ve had better orgasms from my own hand than what your two-inch dick can offer me.”

At your words, Damien nearly chokes on his drink from laughing so hard. You notice the two men sharing another glance between each other across from you.

Minhyuk simply sputters before you, face turning red. You can tell he’s fuming.

“Yeah, well, you’re just a bitch who sleeps with the first guy that gives you any attention,” Minhyuk seethes, only getting more angry the more unbothered by his words you look. “Fucking slut, who wants to be with you anyways. You good for nothing, stupid, waste of space-“

Before any one of them can react, you’ve stood up, causing your chair to screech across the floor and draw even more attention to yourself as you land a solid blow to his left cheek, sending him stumbling back a few paces. Damien watches on with wide eyes as you notice your two bodyguards stand up out of the corner of your eyes.

“You fucking bitch!” Minhyuk sneers, winding up to hit you back.

However, before his fist can make contact, you manage to catch it mid-air, surprising the two males once more, and only serving to make Damien’s eyes widen even more as he sips his drink. Your nails dig into Minhyuk’s skin, and you can see him struggling to pull his fist out of your grip as a crowd begins to form around the five of you.

“If I’m what you say I am, why do you always keep trying to get into my pants? We both know I’m not interested in you, so why waste your time on me? Leave me the fuck alone,” you spit, pushing him away from you as you let go of his fist.

He says nothing, only choosing to glare at you as he rubs at his closed fist, indents from your nails evident in his skin. You notice a few people in the crowd filming the situation, and with a sigh, you grab your things quickly, pushing past people to exit the building. Damien rushes after you once he grabs his things, Ten and Taemin sharing a final look before following as well.

��(Y/n), fuck, that was amazing!” Damien cheers once he catches up to you just outside the building. 

“Are you okay?” It’s Ten’s amused voice that manages to grab your attention.

“Never better,” you reply, exhaling a significant amount of air, noticing how he stands with his arms crossed as Taemin leans on the side of the building.

“He never knows when to quit, does he?” Damien sighs, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

“Does he always bother you?” Taemin asks, intrigued. Neither of them thought you were capable of something like that, and they’re both greatly amused by this newfound side to you.

“You could say that,” Damien replies for you, and you roll your eyes.

“You drunkenly hook up with a guy one time in first year, and he never lets it go,” you huff. “All he wants is another round to say that he’s slept with the presidents’ daughter more than once. I can’t stand him.”

“He’s an asshole,” Damien confirms with a nod while patting your shoulder comfortingly.

“Sorry to make a scene before your class,” you apologize to him, only for him to smile at you.

“Are you kidding? That was literally the highlight of my day,” he grins, causing you to send him a weak smile back. “Now, go home and get some rest. Maybe curl up with a blanket and watch a movie, that always seems to cheer you up.”

“Yeah, if I don’t have to listen to my dad practice his speech for tomorrow,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Plus, I’ve got readings.”

“Fuck the readings,” Damien immediately replies, causing you to let out a breath in amusement.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” You hug him, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as you feel him hug you back. “Have fun in class.”

“Two hours of physics with the most boring professor ever? Woo,” he says, unenthusiastically, causing you to let out a small laugh.

“Good luck, then,” you wave him off, sending him a small wink.

“Thanks, I’ll need it,” he waves back with a laugh, heading back inside before his class starts.

A sigh escapes your lips as you watch Damien disappear from your sight, grip tightening on your bag. You can feel the stares of the two men on you once more as you begin walking back to the car, them falling into step beside you soon after, with one on either side of you. They say nothing at first, a sort of tense silence falling over the three of you as you walk across campus. Ten is the first to break it.

“Didn’t know you had that in you,” he hums, amusement still clear in his voice.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me,” you sigh, seeing your car come into view.

“You have some pretty sharp reflexes,” Taemin comments, looking at you from the corner of his eyes with a smirk present on his lips.

“Thanks,” you reply shortly, putting your hand on the handle of the back door once you reach your car.

Once unlocked, you’re pulling the door open and sliding into the back. You fail to notice the amused twitches of their lips as they follow suit.

Again, a small silence settles over the three of you while in the car as Taemin pulls onto the main road after leaving the campus. You look out the window, watching as the scenery moves by in a blur, not really focusing on anything but using it as a means to distract yourself. You’re tired from the day you’ve had, and you just want to get home and relax.

“So, you and Damien,” Ten’s voice manages to pull you out of your thoughts.

Turning your head, you lock eyes with him, “what about him?”

“You two seem, close,” Taemin cuts in, making you turn your gaze to catch his own in the rearview mirror.

“He’s been my best friend since preschool,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders slightly. “Nothing more to it.”

You hear Ten hum in acknowledgement at your statement, and sensing the end to the short conversation, you go back to absentmindedly looking out the window.

Arriving home, you hop out of the car, quickly making your way back inside your house with the two men following in pursuit. Before you can make it two steps, your father is calling you into his study. You sigh, already knowing what this is going to be about.

“(Y/n), although I’m happy you stood up for yourself, violence is never the answer,” your father reprimands you once you’re in his office.

“Yes, father,” you sigh, head down out of respect.

“In all fairness, sir, if she hadn’t acted beforehand, I was going to clock him myself,” Ten chimes in. “He was being a complete, and pardon my French, asshole.”

“Regardless of that fact or not, she should know better than to act out like that,” he frowns. “We’re lucky the news outlets won’t get wind of this. How would people react if they saw you, the presidents’ daughter, punching someone in the face? How do you think the public would perceive me as your father for ‘influencing’ you to act that way? What does that say about me as a parent? We have to be careful with our images. You know this. Otherwise, people will create these false presumptions about us. Now go, I have work to do.”

With a nod of your head, you turn around and exit the study, making your way to your room. You don’t have to look to know that your two bodyguards are already following you.

“Whether they see it or not, people are already going to have their false presumptions about us,” you mutter under your breath, releasing another sigh as you open the door to your room.

The two of them say nothing as they follow you into your room, closing the door behind them. They watch as you toss your bag onto your desk before moving over and flopping face first onto your bed, releasing a groan in the process.

Both of them are greatly amused by your actions today, not to mention impressed. Never would they have thought you would have had it in you to do what you did. Neither will admit it to the other, but they enjoyed this side of you, both intrigued by you and who you’re turning out to be. They can’t help but want to see more.

Moving over to sit on your couch, they allow themselves to relax slightly. Nothing unusual came up at your university, but they remain on high alert, as tomorrow would be a prime opportunity for something to happen given the events that will be taking place. They just know that whatever does happen, they’ll make sure to keep you safe. Not only is it their job, but after the events of today, you’ve sparked something within them, something that they haven’t felt in a long time. Something, that if given the chance, they want to feel again.

Eventually, the next day rolls around, and you manage to pull yourself out of your sour mood from the previous day. You’re currently sitting front row before the small stage they’ve set up outside for your father to give his speech on. People from all over campus, and the city for that matter, file in and take their seats, wanting to catch a glimpse of the president at this presidential event.

“Hey stranger,” Damien greets, nudging you gently as he takes the open seat beside you to your left. “How’re you feeling today?

“Could be better, could be worse,” you shrug, turning your head to look at him. “How about you?”

“Heard Minhyuk complaining about his face about an hour ago,” he replies with a hum. “You really got him good, dude’s sporting a nice shiner.”

“Serves him right,” a voice cuts in, shadows falling over both you and Damien.

Looking up reveals your two bodyguards now standing in front of you. You can tell Ten was the one to say that, for he wears a smug grin on his face as Taemin scans over the crowd.

“We’ll be positioned at the front of the stage during the speech, so if you need one of us, just wave us over,” Taemin informs you, to which you nod at.

You notice the earpieces they’re wearing, taking in their entire black ensembles. You lick your lips before taking a deep breath, turning back to face Damien in the next moment as the two men walk over to stand at the bottom of the front of the stage.

“Those two men are such fine, cool glasses of water, and I’m parched,” Damien says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at you, only causing you to burst out laughing.

“Well, they’re all yours, boo,” you grin back, shooting him a wink. “Drink up.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” he hums, turning his gaze to the front where Ten and Taemin are standing at attention.

The two of you continue on your conversation for a short amount of time, seeing as the event will be starting soon. You’ve noticed how the crowd has really filled out, a small smile resting on your lips as you feel pride for your father swell in your chest. He can be a bit difficult at times, but you love him, and you hope beyond anything that nothing goes wrong today.

Soon enough, the crowd has settled down and the dean of your university introduces your father who receives a tremendous amount of applause in response. You take this time to look around at all the media sources broadcasting this event today. News outlets, magazines, even those filming on their phones for their own social media accounts.

Figuring you should get comfortable in your seat for your father’s speech, you lean back in your chair, crossing your left leg over the other, and your arms over your chest. You notice Damien lean back in his seat also, choosing to rest his hands in his lap as he gets comfortable. 

A gentle breeze drifts through the campus, the sky dotted with clouds as the sun peeks out from behind one. You can see your mother smiling in her seat behind your father as he begins his speech, the dean nodding along enthusiastically. All of your private bodyguards line the front of the stage on either side. Taemin and Ten standing closest to you, while Siwon and Natasha stand on the opposite side.

Just as your father takes a slight pause in his speech, the first shot is fired.

A scream sounds from the crowd somewhere behind you as the bullet makes contact with the ground just before your feet. You recoil in shock, nearly falling backwards in your chair. The next moment, chaos ensues as another bullet whizzes right past your head and hits the person sitting behind you. 

People begin panicking, getting up and running in multiple directions while screaming in fear for their lives. You see both Taemin and Ten rushing towards you, but they’re two seconds too late.

The sound of a bullet making contact with flesh makes you flinch and squeeze your eyes shut. Your whole body tenses as you wait for pain to overtake you in the next moment. Except, it doesn’t come.

Opening your eyes, you look to your left where you see Damien on the ground, clutching his right shoulder as blood begins to flow from his fresh bullet wound. You barely register Ten grabbing your arm to lead you away from the scene.

Quickly regaining your senses, you rip your arm out of his grasp, a firm ‘no’ passing your lips as you drop to your knees beside Damien. Taking off the sweater you’re wearing, you immediately press it to his wound, keeping the pressure until medical help can arrive.

“Come on, we need to get you out of here,” Taemin says, going to grab for you himself this time.

“I’m not leaving him,” you state, staring into Damien’s eyes as tears gather at the corners of his as the pain washes over him.

“Our number one priority is keeping you safe,” Ten responds, looking around the crowd as both he and Taemin draw their guns. “No matter the cost.”

“I’ll be fine,” Damien assures you through gritted teeth. “It’s only a flesh wound.”

“Flesh wound my ass,” you mutter.

The commotion around you prevents you from seeing if your parents got away safely, but you’re hoping that they did. No more shots have been fired since Ten and Taemin have reached you, so you’re hoping the shooter has moved on and is in the process of being chased.

Another bullet whizzing past your arm is all the answer you need, your heart beating erratically in your chest as you’re overcome with fear. No matter how badly your mind is screaming for your body to run, you won’t leave your best friend here to die like this.

“I can’t leave him!” You shout over the commotion.

“Shit,” you hear Taemin cuss as he turns towards the direction the bullets have been coming from in hopes of getting a glimpse of the shooter. However, at this distance, his handgun is not going to have much of an effect on a long range shooter.

“Can you stand?” Ten asks you, to which you simply nod your head. “Good, get up.”

“I told you, I’m not leaving him to die!” At your words Damien lets out a pain filled groan.

“Go, get out of here,” he manages to get out. “Your life is more important than mine, anyways.”

“What the fuck are you saying? Of course it’s not!” You yell, tears blurring your vision as you feel the amount of blood on your hands despite your best efforts of putting pressure on the wound. “You can’t say things like that, I don’t know who I’d be without you. Come on, you’re going to get through this, stay with me.”

Before you can register what’s happening, you feel yourself being pulled up and off of the ground. You begin to protest as Taemin drags you away from Damien, struggling in his grip as he leads you away from the scene of the crime for your protection, gun raised the whole time. 

Pulling you behind a building and out of view from the sniper’s range, Taemin pushes you against the wall, scanning the area to make sure it’s safe before turning to lock eyes with you.

“Relax, Ten’s got him,” he says, motioning with his head to his brother who has now caught up to you and is carrying Damien over his shoulder.

You manage to breathe a sigh of slight relief, your blood still rushing through your veins due to the adrenaline. You’re not safe yet, but at least you know Damien won’t just be left out there to bleed to death.

“You know, when I imagined getting carried away by prince charming, this is not what I had in mind,” Damien pipes up, causing you to let out a laugh in disbelief as Ten places him back on his own feet.

Pushing past Taemin, you manage to catch Damien as he stumbles slightly, wincing as his wound throbs in pain.

“You idiot,” you laugh, a single tear escaping your eye as you throw his arm over your shoulder. “This is seriously not the time for joking around.”

“You’re right-“

“(Y/n)!”

“Get behind us!”

“No!” A shriek escapes your lips as you hear a gunshot fire from in front of you, a masked figure now standing mere metres away from you. 

It all happens within the blink of an eye, yet everything still seems to happen in slow motion.

You watch as the bullet inches closer to your chest, Ten and Taemin rushing in front of you to try and protect you, but they’re going to be too late. Your eyes widen as you register Damien pushing you out of the way just in time to take the bullet for you. Stumbling slightly, you can only watch on in horror as his now lifeless body falls to the ground in front of you. You’re ears are ringing, and you barely register Taemin firing his own gun, killing the assailant instantly.

Taemin and Ten begin to scan the area, guards high incase another attacker is to make themselves known. They stand guard on either side of you as the swat teams arrive, only now noticing how you’ve dropped to your knees with silent tears streaming down your face as you stare at Damien’s still frame, bleeding out on the concrete in front of you.

“D-Damien,” your voice comes out as a broken whisper, barely having the strength to crawl over to him, but you manage, choking on a sob along the way. 

You manage to turn him over, wiping the hair out of his face as you come to rest his head in your lap, just like how you would sit when you were kids. A tear falls on his cheek, and you can’t help but think he looks almost peaceful like this; as if he’s only sleeping.

“You idiot,” you choke out, cupping his face gently in your hands and ignoring all those around you for the moment. “That bullet wasn’t meant for you.” Another tear lands on his cheek. “You weren’t meant to die for me. How am I supposed to go on without my best friend?”

Tears continue to flow down your cheeks as you sob for the loss of your closest friend. How cruel of fate to take him away from you so soon, that he should die while you continue to live on. Why would he do that for you?

All these thoughts, and more, race through your mind, and you can come up with the answer yourself, which only makes you sob harder. The love you have for your best friend is also shared by him. He did this because he wanted to, because he loves you. If the roles would have been reversed, you would have done the exact same thing for him.

A comforting hand is placed gently onto your back, startling you out of your thoughts. Letting your eyes refocus, you notice you’ve been subconsciously brushing Damien’s hair out of his face this whole time, only serving to streak it red with his blood that still rests on your hands.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, completely ignoring whoever it is that’s come to comfort you at this time in favour of gently placing Damien’s head on the ground. You back up slightly in order to give yourself enough room to lean down to place one final kiss to his forehead while whispering a small thank you. “I love you. You will always be my best friend.”

Letting out a shaky sigh, you sit back up. Looking to your left, you see Taemin standing there with a hand placed comfortingly on your shoulder. He looks at you with slightly sorrowful eyes as you stand up, stumbling slightly on your feet. Luckily, Taemin is there to support you.

“Take me home,” your voice is barely above a whisper as you find yourself leaning into his side. He doesn’t need to see your eyes to know the sadness that reflects in them, for he can hear it clearly in your voice.

By now, the reporters have made a reappearance as special ops forces take care of the scene. They throw questions your way while shoving microphones in your face as you walk past. Taemin does his best to push them out of your way, but in the end, some of the swat team has to step in to control them in order to get them to leave you alone. 

Ten is currently busy filling in the superiors on what events have just taken place. He watches as Taemin leads you away, an arm wrapped securely around your figure. He bites his lip. That should be him. He knows what it’s like to lose someone close to you, someone you love. He should be the one comforting you in this time, not Taemin.

The whole time shots were being fired, Ten’s heart was racing in his chest. Normally, he loves the thrill of adrenaline that rushes through his veins during times like these, but today, he couldn’t help but worry. He worried for your safety, and yes, even though you are his client and he should regularly worry about your safety, this time was different. No matter what happens, he doesn’t want to see you get hurt. Or worse.

It stuck with him, how attached you seemed to be to Damien, and how you refused to leave his side, even in the face of danger. He finds your loyalty admirable, and genuinely enjoys your caring nature. He doesn’t want to admit it to himself yet, but it pained him to see the horrified, heartbroken look on your face when Damien was killed. If he can help it, he never wants to see you hurt or in pain again, and he’ll start by doing his job right. His number one priority now, is protecting you at all costs, even if it means giving up his own life.

Meanwhile, you rest your head on the cool window of your car as Taemin drives you home. Nothing is said between the two of you, and you’re grateful for the silence. Closing your eyes, you attempt to get some rest while on your way home, but every time you close your eyes, all you can see is Damien’s dead body bleeding out on the ground.

You don’t even notice you’ve started crying again until you feel a gentle hand on your cheek, wiping away your tears. Your eyes flutter open to see you’re back home already, the car now parked in the garage.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he says softly, eyes full of sorrow as he retracts his hand from your cheek slowly.

You don’t say anything in response, not trusting your voice to not crack if you were to speak. Instead, you find yourself nodding once at him, swallowing briefly. 

Never have you seen Taemin show this much emotion in front of you, but you appreciate it none-the-less. You’re also grateful he doesn’t push you to talk, opting to get out of the car and help you walk into the main part of the house in the next moment.

He can feel his heart clench slightly in his chest, seeing you so upset and hurt by the events of today. He won’t easily admit it, but the whole time shots were being fired, he was scared he wouldn’t be able to protect you. He’s intrigued by you, and ever since yesterday, he’s wanted to get to know you better. Sure he acts a bit cold and distant, but he knows he’s starting to warm up to you.

You have this effect on him which sets his heart racing, and knowing how much you care for your best friend just made his interest in you spike. He admires the loyalty and dedication you’ve shown so far, selfishly wanting that for himself in the future. You’ve definitely caught his eye, and once he sets his sights on something, he never lets go of his target.

He only wishes he could have been able to comfort you better in the car before the two of you went inside.

As soon as your mother sees you enter the house, she rushes over to you, “(Y/n), oh my god. Thank goodness you’re alright! We were so worried about you, are you hurt?”

“No, mom, I’m fine,” you reply, brushing her off in favour of wanting to retreat to your room for the rest of the evening. You just want to be alone right now, or at least away from your parents and their questioning gazes.

“You don’t look fine,” your dad comments, worry evident on his features as he frowns. “You have blood on your hands.”

“There’s blood on your hands?” You mother panics, immediately grabbing your hands in hers and looking them over worriedly as she takes in the sight of the now dried blood covering your hands.

“It’s fine, it’s-“ you hesitate, closing your eyes briefly as you swallow your emotions for the time being, “it’s not mine.”

“Then who’s-“ both your mother and father’s brows furrow as they fully look at your red eyes and tear stained face.

“It’s-“ you choke on a breath, your emotions overcoming your weak walls that you’ve put up for the time being as you feel the weight of the events from today come crashing down on you. “Damien’s”

“Is he alright?” Your mother asks, squeezing your hands gently in comfort as she looks at your face in worry.

You shake your head, refusing to meet her eyes as you hear her gasp.

“He sacrificed himself for me,” you let out a shaky breath, only now being able to look up into your mother’s eyes, and you can see the sorrow reflected in her own as she wraps you in her arms.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry,” she says, gently stroking your hair as you sob into her shoulder. You can feel your father come over to place a comforting hand onto your back, gently rubbing soothing circles the whole time. 

You all stay like this for a few minutes, your parents comforting you as you sob in the main hallway of your house. After a little while longer, you manage to get your emotions back under control, enough to pull away from your mom as she wipes your tears away.

“Why don’t you go and get some rest, honey, we’re well protected here at home,” she suggests, to which you nod in response.

You don’t say anything as you walk past them and to the stairs, slowly trudging up them and to your room. Closing the door gently behind you, you feel as if you’re untuned to your surroundings, moving around your room slowly as if in a daze.

Grabbing a fresh pair of pyjamas to change into consisting of an oversized t-shirt and sleep shorts, you make your way to your bathroom in order to wash off the events of the day. You find that the hot water helps clear your mind slightly, serving to wash away the dirt and grim that’s stuck onto you. It takes you several minutes just to wash the blood off of your hands, it now being caked into your nails. The sight alone makes your eyes sting with unshed tears.

You end up taking longer than you thought you would to get ready for bed, seeing as how your movements are sluggish at the moment. Once you deem your hair dry enough, you throw it in a bun on the top of your head, exiting the bathroom and coming back out into your main room.

Just as you groggily start to make your way over to your bed, you hear a faint knock coming from your bedroom door. Releasing a small sigh, you head over to see who it could be.

Opening the door reveals Taemin standing there. You notice his eyes roam over your figure briefly, taking in your appearance, before looking back up to meet your gaze.

“Your parents wanted me to check up on you after debriefing them,” he says, not wanting you to know that he was also concerned about how you may be fairing after the events of today.

“I’m just going to try and get some sleep,” you reply, bringing a hand up to rub at your eyes.

“Well, if you need anything, let me know,” with a final nod, he goes to turn away.

“Wait,” your voice halts him in his tracks.

“Yes?” He turns his head to look at you from over his shoulder.

“I know that this isn’t really a part of your job description, but I don’t really want to be alone right now,” you say, looking down at your feet somewhat nervously. “Do you mind staying with me for a while? At least until I fall asleep? I’d feel safer knowing you were with me, watching over me.”

Given the circumstances, he knows his heart shouldn’t be skipping a beat at your words, but it does anyways. It takes him a moment to think of a response, but you take his silence as a denial to your request.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, I can always ask Ten when he gets back-“

“No, no,” he cuts you off before you can finish. There’s no way he’s letting his brother take this opportunity away from him. “It’s fine. Just let me shower first, then I’ll be right with you.”

“Oh, yeah, of course!” You say, your eyes flitting upwards only to look down again in the next second. “Do whatever you have to do first. I’ll be here.”

With a final nod from him, he’s moving quickly down the hall and to his room. He doesn’t want to keep you waiting for long, but he does want to wash off the events of the day before keeping you company. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt for him to freshen up a little bit for you.

Not even fifteen minutes later, you hear another soft knock coming from your bedroom door. Getting up off of your bed, you go over to let Taemin into your room, closing your door gently behind him.

“Thank you, by the way,” your voice is small as you move past him to sit on the side of your bed. “You didn’t have to agree to this.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replies, moving to sit on your couch that faces your bed, serving to give you space, but also letting you know that he’s still there for you incase you should need him.

Crawling underneath your covers, you attempt to get comfortable. You’re able to relax slightly better knowing Taemin is in your room to protect and watch over you for the time being. However, the more you allow yourself to relax, the more your body begins to shake. Your mind now has time to think about all the events that have taken place today, and thanks to your adrenaline wearing off, all of your emotions are coming crashing back to you. Fear, grief, anger, shock, and sadness all flood your senses as you attempt to lull yourself to sleep.

Every time you close your eyes, you see glimpses of the horrific scenes that played out in front of you during the day, but none of them are as prominent as watching your best friend get shot over and over again; you can still hear the gunshots ringing in your ears.

A small whimper escapes your lips as tears threaten to fall from your eyes once more.

Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you curse yourself. Yes, it’s good to have emotions, but your father has always told you not to let them get the best of you. You can’t help but just feel so weak after the events of today. Never before have you been so scared for your life, and never before have you had to face this kind of terror head on. Never has it affected you this horribly before.

You nearly jump out of your skin when you feel a gentle hand place itself onto your back, successfully serving to pull you out of your thoughts. 

Turning to look over your shoulder, you stare at Taemin with slightly wide, tear-filled eyes, and he can feel his heart clench in sorrow for you.

“Are you okay?” His voice is gentle, concern clear on his features.

You sit up in bed, turning to face him fully as you choke back a sob, “no.”

Moving quickly, he sits on the edge of your bed, wrapping you in his arms. He gently rubs his one hand along your back as you come to rest your head in the side of his neck, letting all of your emotions out that you’ve so desperately kept in since retreating to your room for the evening.

He lets you cry into him for as long as you need, comforting you in any way he can. He wants you to know that he’s here for you, in more ways than just being your bodyguard. It pains him to see you this upset, but he’s glad that he’s the one able to be with you in your time of need.

Eventually, your sobbing begins to die down, with you only shaking slightly from your emotions now as you begin to calm yourself down. He refuses to let you go just yet, wanting to make sure you’re okay before having you pull away. He wants you to be the first to pull away, so as to not deny you of his comfort when you need it most. Besides, he’s enjoying the fact that he get’s to hold you in his arms, though he wishes it was under better circumstances.

“Thank you,” you whisper in his ear, nearly causing a shiver to run down his spine.

All too soon, you’re pulling away from him to look into his eyes while wiping away your remaining tears. You send him a weak smile, one that still manages to pull at his heartstrings as he sends you a small one back. This surprises you slightly as you don’t believe you’ve seen him smile at all until now.

“Don’t mention it,” he replies lowly, slowly going to stand up before your hand on his wrist stops him.

“Do you-“ you pause, biting your lip slightly as you avoid his gaze, “can you-“

He can see your eyes flicker briefly to him before flicking to beside you on the bed, the hesitant yet hopeful look shining in your eyes only serving to make his heart race faintly in his chest.

He nods his head slightly, “of course.”

The breath you let out in relief is followed by a small smile which overtakes your features. You both know that this isn’t in his job description, but you’d feel better having him stay with you for the night.

Making room for him, he crawls under your covers with you. You can tell he doesn’t want to overstep his boundaries, but you feel better when his arms are around you. Especially in this moment, you need the comfort only he can provide for you.

Letting out another small sigh, you turn to face him, noticing he’s already staring at you. The two of you continue to stare at each other for about a minute, a small silence settling around the both of you. You shuffle closer, averting your gaze in the next moment.

“Taemin?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but he still manages to hear you.

“Yes?” He hums.

“Hold me,” it’s not a question, yet not a demand either, but it feels as if the world has stopped for a brief moment as he takes in your request.

He doesn’t say anything in response, and you’re worried you might have gone too far, but once you feel his arms loop around your figure and pull you close to him, you’re breathing another sigh of relief.

He’s sure you can hear the way his heart skips a beat as you bury yourself into his chest, wrapping your own arms around his waist as you seek comfort in his embrace. He knows he shouldn’t read too much into this, you’re only asking him to do this to comfort you in your time of need, but it’s the fact that you’re asking him to do this for you that sets his heart racing.

He hasn’t felt this way in a long time, and even though he wishes the events leading up to this moment were different, he’s just glad he gets to experience holding you in his arms for the night. Whatever you need, he’ll give to you.

As he watches you sleep in his arms, he makes a promise to himself that night. No matter what happens, he’ll always be there for you. To protect you, and if you’ll let him, to love, and cherish you for as long as you both shall live.

Waking up the next morning, you hear faint breathing coming from beside you. Furrowing your brow slightly in confusion, you go to sit up, only to find a pair of arms resting around your waist. Glancing over your shoulder, you see Taemin’s sleeping face; everything from the previous night coming back to you now.

Managing to wiggle out of his grasp, you sit on the edge of your bed, warmth rushing up your neck as you realize he slept with you the entire night. The more you think about it though, the calmer you feel, for he did comfort you the entire time he’s been with you. You don’t think you would have been able to sleep at all if he didn’t stay.

“Good morning,” you hear him say from behind you, voice still groggy from sleep. You can feel the bed shift as he sits up. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, thank you,” you reply briefly from over your shoulder. “I’m sorry I made you stay with me last night.”

“Don’t be,” he replies, shifting slightly so he can rest a hand on your back. “I’m glad I could help. Besides, you needed it.”

You say nothing in return, choosing to nod slightly instead. 

Standing up from your bed, you move over to your bathroom to get ready for the day. Once by the sink, you splash some cool water onto your face to wake yourself up. Looking into your reflection in the mirror reveals how red and swollen your eyes are from crying last night. You let out a sigh.

Today isn’t going to be any easier. You know you’re going to have to have a meeting with your parents to fully discuss what happened yesterday, as well as possibly make arrangements for Damien’s funeral with his family. To say you’re not looking forward to any of that would be an understatement.

Once you’re finished in the bathroom, moving back into the main section of your bedroom reveals that Taemin has already left. You figure he’s probably gone to get ready for the day himself, seeing as he’s back on formal duty now.

Moving over to your closet, you mindlessly shift through your clothes, not feeling up to changing at the moment. You just want to lay in bed and rest, but unfortunately, your life has to go on. Such is the pain of being apart of such an important family.

Deciding you should at least put on some proper pants, you change swiftly, trudging downstairs slowly afterwards, and bracing yourself for the day you have in front of you.

Meanwhile, Taemin changes quickly in his room. His skin is still warm from where you had been touching him before you had moved, and he misses the comforting feeling of you being in his arms. His only wish was that it could have lasted for even just a little while longer.

While washing his face, the door attached to Ten’s room opens, revealing him now casually leaning on the doorframe and staring at his brother expectantly.

“You weren’t in your room when I got back last night,” Ten states, a small inquisitive quirk to his eyebrow.

“I was with (Y/n) last night,” Taemin replies casually, noticing the way his brother’s eye twitches at the mention of your name.

“Sleeping with the clientele, are we?” Ten muses, shaking his head in mock disappointment. He always thought better of his brother to not intrude on personal space, especially not after a day like yesterday.

“Relax, it wasn’t like that,” Taemin rolls his eyes slightly, turning to face his brother while leaning casually on the bathroom counter. “She asked me to stay with her for comfort. She said I make her feel safe.”

Though he looks visibly unaffected, Ten’s jaw can’t help but twitch in clear annoyance. Again, he should have been the one to comfort you in your time of need, not Taemin. He only wishes he could have been given that opportunity to make sure you were alright last night. He wants an opportunity to get closer to you, and learn more about you, just like his brother did. Or so he believes.

“We should get going, they’re expecting us downstairs,” Taemin’s voice manages to pull Ten out of his thoughts.

Ten finds he can only nod his head once in response. Pushing himself off the frame of the door, he retreats back into his room before making his way downstairs. They both make sure to check your room first though, just to make sure you’ve already made your way to the main floor of the house.

Sitting at one end of the dining room table, you watch as your two guards enter the room, moving to stand on either side of you once in position. Now, you’re just waiting for your father to arrive. He had to leave early this morning for a press statement, or so your mother tells you.

You let out a small breath, fiddling with your phone in front of you as you receive a barrage of messages from both Ayla and Jongin, as well as your other friends around the globe who’ve heard of the news. Most of them have heard about what happened yesterday, and want to make sure you’re okay. They also know about what happened to Damien, so they send you their deepest condolences, of which you’re grateful for. You don’t know what you’d do without them still in your life.

Soon enough, your father is arriving home and you all begin your discussions around what the next week will look like. Your university will remained closed until further notice while the investigation is underway, as well as to honour Damien’s memory. They’re going to hold a public wake at the school in about a week’s time, after his main funeral takes place. His main funeral will be in three day’s time for only close friends and family. You make a note to let Ayla and Jongin know about that as soon as you can.

You are to be on lockdown in the house for the next little bit to make sure that no one else will come after you in public. The only exceptions to this rule are the day of Damien’s funeral, as well as the wake if you choose to go.

Your parents will be busy doing press interviews for the next little bit, as the special ops forces work to catch whoever is behind these assassination attempts. They also want you to pick back up on your old self defence training, and they’ve assigned your bodyguards to help train you.

Not only do your parents want you to brush up on your hand-to-hand combat skills, but they also want you to learn how to properly shoot a gun. They tell you that it’s for your own protection, and also in case of emergencies, which you simply nod your head along to whatever they say.

At this point, your mind is on information overload, and you just want to retreat back to your room, curl up in bed or on the couch, and watch a movie to take your mind off of things. At least you have the next little bit off of school, though you just wish it was for better reasons than this. You sigh.

An hour and a half later, you’re all finished talking, all updated on the most recent of events. Your parents each have something they need to do, and you’re glad that they’re allowing you time to yourself to do whatever you need to. Whether it be grieve, scream, or lay in a silent emotional void for a bit, you’re unsure. What you do know, is that as soon as they dismiss you, you’re standing up from your seat and practically rushing back to your room.

Reaching the safe confines of your room, you grab your comforter off of your bed, and move over to your one couch facing your television. Taemin and Ten follow your every movement, watching as you toss the blanket over the couch while moving over to grab your laptop in the next second. Setting up the screen, you plug in your laptop adapter to reflect your screen on the television, deciding that you’re going to watch your favourite movie to take your mind off of things.

Sitting down on a corner of your couch once you’ve set everything up, you wrap the comforter around yourself. Looking over your shoulder, you see both Ten and Taemin standing a little ways away from you, eyes shining with curiosity. You can also see the concern reflected in their eyes still, a fact that makes you sigh.

“The two of you might want to get comfortable and join me, I’m probably going to be here for a while,” you say, turning your attention back to your screen as the opening of your favourite movie begins to play.

They say nothing as they move over to join you. Ten takes the opposite end of the couch you’re on, while Taemin takes the chair directly beside you. Both of them spare a glance towards you before locking eyes with each other. They’re both surprised with how calm you seem at the moment. Honestly, they’d say you appear more tired than anything.

About halfway through the movie, Ten looks over to see that you’ve fallen asleep. Your head rests slightly on the back of the couch, but the angle you’re sitting in looks fairly uncomfortable.

His eyes briefly flick over to Taemin before letting out a small breath, noticing how his brother is focussed on the screen.

Shifting slightly, he moves closer to you, gently pulling you down on the couch so your don’t wake up with a sore neck. However, what he doesn’t expect is for you to sigh and lean into him.

His heart races in his chest as you manage to push him back on the couch slightly, hand resting on his chest as his one arm naturally wraps around your shoulders, allowing you to comfortably rest your head on him. He looks down at you with slightly stunned features, noticing how a little bit of your hair has fallen over your face. He goes to brush it away.

“What are you doing?” Taemin’s voice manages to halt any movements Ten is about to make.

Looking up, he meets the hard gaze of his brother, a smug expression on his face as he sees Taemin’s eyes failing to hide the slight jealousy in them.

“Getting comfortable,” Ten responds, gently brushing the hair out of your face all the while maintaining eye contact with Taemin.

You simply hum at Ten’s touch, shifting slightly to bury yourself deeper into his warm embrace subconsciously. You remain asleep as the two brothers stare each other down, Taemin’s jaw clenching as the corner of Ten’s lips turn up slightly. Now, it’s his turn to hold you.

Reluctantly, Taemin tears his gaze away from you being held in Ten’s arms. His jaw remains set in a firm line as his emotions begin to take over his thoughts. He knows he got to hold you last night, and that it didn’t mean anything, but he can’t help but think that it meant something. You went to him for comfort. You asked him to stay with you last night, and now, seeing you curled up in Ten’s arms sets his blood boiling. He doesn’t care that Ten’s his brother, he’s the one that’s going to protect you, the one that will keep you safe. He’s the better option for you, not Ten.

Meanwhile, Ten basks in the glory that is you curled up, sleeping in his arms. You look so peaceful like this, as if the events of the previous day haven’t had the chance to affect you yet. He takes this time to admire your features, memorizing every detail and falling deeper into the feelings only you seem to be able to stir within his chest. It only makes him prouder that you’ve leant into him considering he didn’t get to comfort you, or hold you at all, last night like he so badly wanted to do. Now, he gets you all to himself in a way, and he couldn’t be more content. Knowing his brother is fuming only makes this feeling that much more sweeter. After all, he’s the one who’ll make sure nothing bad ever happens to you again. He’s what you deserve.

You manage to sleep for the next hour or so, the movie long over by the time you wake up. Noticing the position you’re in, heat rises up your neck as you sit up from Ten’s hold, retracting back to the opposite side of the couch while muttering a small sorry, and avoiding his eyes. He simple smiles warmly at you in response, thinking about how cute you look avoiding his gaze. All the while, Taemin stares at him with narrowed eyes.

The three of you remain in your room for the rest of the day, them keeping you company as you watch movies to pass the time and take your mind off of things. The only time you leave your room is to grab food and drinks, opting to skip a major meal for dinner that night, thinking you won’t be able to stomach it due to the fact that you’ve barely had a large appetite since the incident.

“Your parents want you to start your self-defence training as soon as possible,” Taemin’s voice manages to pull you out of your thoughts after a while. “Do you think you’ll be willing to start tomorrow?”

It takes you a moment to think over his words, letting out a small sigh as you answer him, “the sooner, the better, right?”

“As long as you’re feeling up to it,” Ten adds, shooting you a soft look, eyes reflecting his concern for you. “It would probably be for the best.”

“Then tomorrow it is,” you nod, closing your eyes briefly as you take a deep breath.

“You should get some rest,” Taemin says, standing up from his chair and stretching slightly.

You simply nod in response, watching as Ten stands up as well.

“Are you going to be okay for the evening?” Ten asks, looking down at you, who has tucked the blanket all the way up to your chin.

“I think so,” you nod, shifting your gaze upwards to lock eyes with him, and noticing something flash behind his own, but it’s gone just as quickly as it came.

“If you need us, don’t be afraid to come get one of us,” Taemin tells you, already moving over to your door to retreat to his room for the evening.

“Thank you,” comes your simple response, sending one final nod your way as they both exit your room for the evening, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

A sigh escapes Ten’s lips as he shuts your door behind him, noticing Taemin already making his way down the hall and to his own room. He had hoped you’d ask for him to stay with you for the night, just like you had done the previous night with his brother. Holding you in his arms today has only made him realize that he wants to be able to do so more often, but without the added company next time.

As soon as he had asked that question, Taemin caught on to what his brother was doing. He couldn’t help but smirk slightly at your denial of his hidden advances, although, he would have preferred if you had asked for him to stay with you for another night. Seeing you wrapped up in his brother’s arms just made him want to show his brother that you don’t belong to him. After all, he shouldn’t touch what isn’t his.

The next day, the three of you make your way to the sub-basement, where a designated training area has been set up for times like these. As you step into the large room, filled with sparring mats, amongst other things, your eyes widen. It still amazes you how they can fit a small shooting range down here, kind of like your own personalized bat cave, only significantly smaller and less cool.

“What did you want to start with first?” Ten asks as you turn your attention towards him.

“Maybe shooting? Seeing as sparring might take more of my energy later,” you say, failing to notice the subtle smirk that pulls at Taemin’s lips at your words. “I’d rather be able to lift my arm without it shaking from exhaustion.”

“Fair enough,” Ten nods, eye twitching slightly as he sees his brother’s smug look. He has to keep telling himself it doesn’t mean anything that you chose Taemin over him to start. After all, this is just training. Even so, he can’t help but frown as he turns away, noticing how you walk closer to Taemin, and away from him.

Pulling out his gun, Taemin leads you over to a side table. Once there, he swiftly pulls apart the pistol, placing each component carefully on the table in front of you.

“First things first, if you want to shoot a gun, you should learn exactly how each piece fits together with the other,” he says, looking over at you and watching your eyes flick over the separate pieces of his most prized possession. “If you want to know how to shoot a gun, you need to learn to assemble it first.”

Grabbing each piece he needs, he slowly begins piecing each part back together, you watching him closely the whole time. You listen intently to everything he says, eyes hardly ever leaving his hands as they assemble the gun into one solid piece.

Ten watches all of this with a slight scowl on his face. He doesn’t appreciate how close his brother is standing to you. There’s no reason your arms should be almost touching as Taemin explains the mechanics of the gun to you. 

He knows exactly what his brother is doing to him, and he hates it, for he knows that Taemin is doing this on purpose, just to torment him. It’s been a long time since either one of them has wanted the same thing this badly, and neither are going to give up easily until they obtain their goal.

Another thing that bothers Ten is that he knows Taemin is using his favourite gun for this training exercise. Taemin rarely ever lets anyone touch, let alone assemble his favourite gun. Hell, Ten’s only used it twice before in his life, and he got scolded both times, even if they were both in critical life or death situations. This just makes Ten’s brow furrow further in discontent, knowing that his brother is this serious about you to let you train with his prized pistol.

This fact only makes him more antsy for his own turn to train with you. Then, he might be able to turn this on his brother, for he’ll be able to keep you close to him for nearly the entire time. After all, sparring is a contact sport.

Soon, Taemin is disassembling his gun once more in order for you to reassemble it this time. He places each component back on the table, turning his gaze to lock eyes with you.

“Got it?” He quirks a brow, and he sees you smile softly.

“I think so,” you nod once, and the corners of his mouth twitch up slightly.

Reaching out your hand, you grab the first piece, slowly assembling the gun just as Taemin had done previously. He watches you carefully the whole time, noticing how you bite your lip slightly in concentration as you put the pieces of the weapon together again. He can feel his heart racing slightly in his chest, not only from having you so near to him again, but also from seeing you holding his favourite gun. The way you hold it, so gently, carefully putting the pieces back together, makes his mind wander. 

Is this how delicately you would treat your lover? Holding them as if they’re the most precious thing in the world? Or maybe the way you would care for a child, gently caressing them as you cradled them to your chest. These thoughts, and more, race through his mind, serving to distract him.

“Done!” Your proud voice manages to pull him out of his thoughts.

Looking down at the gun now placed on the table, he admires how quickly you’ve picked this skill up. A small smile pulls at the corner of his lips as he glances to you fondly, pride swelling in his chest at how well you’ve handled his prized possession. He knew you wouldn’t disappoint him.

“Good,” he nods, taking the weapon once more into his hands and disassembling it agains. “Now do it once more.”

He sees determination shine in your eyes as you nod your head at him. Your movements are much quicker this time as you’re more sure in your actions. He watches you with a content look on his face, amusement and pride swirling behind his eyes.

“By the way, this is a really nice pistol,” you comment, putting the last of the pieces together. “Is it custom?”

Once whole, you run your thumb over the engravings of the vines on the side of the barrel, staring down at the weapon with wonder shining in your eyes. You notice the small L.T.M carved into the side of the gun, just above the handle, as you flip it around in your hand to pass it back to him.

“It is,” he confirms, smirking down at the object now placed back in his own hand. He surprised you noticed, but the fact that you have just makes you appear more endearing to him. A fact that makes him confident that he’s made the right decision in wanting to pursue these emotions you stir within him. “It’s my favourite gun in my entire collection. I always carry it with me.”

“I see,” you respond, taken slightly aback by his words. You’re surprised he’s letting you use his favourite gun for training. “Thank you for trusting me enough to use it.”

“Of course,” comes his blunt reply, turning away from you so you can’t see the smug smile that wants to break out on his face, but Ten does. “Come on, let’s check your aim.”

Moving over to the small shooting range that has been set up, Taemin grabs two pairs of protective earmuffs, and eyewear for you. Handing you one of them, he briefly explains how to go about aiming the gun, and the kickback. You nod along to everything he’s saying, listening intently and taking in every detail you can in order to help you with your shooting.

“Those are the basics, so let’s see what you can do,” he says, handing over his precious pistol to you once more, after checking to make sure that it’s loaded.

“Right,” you respond, taking the gun once more into your hands after putting the protective gear on your head.

Raising the gun with both hands, you take aim, feeling the solid weight of the item in your grasp. You let out a small breath as you fire your first shot, slightly caught off guard at the kickback of the weapon, despite Taemin’s previous warning. You notice him chuckle beside you as you readjust your stance, taking aim once more and firing off a few more shots.

In total, you’ve fired six shots out of twelve, and only four of them have made contact with the target. A small pout resides on your lips as you notice the shots that did hit the target are way off their mark. Adjusting your earmuffs, you pull one off on one side, resting it just beside your ear enough so that you can better hear the world around you, noticing Taemin doing the same.

“This is harder than I thought,” you grumble, only causing Taemin to chuckle once more.

“It takes a lot of skill to handle a gun, especially for the first time,” he says, grin never leaving his lips as he takes a step towards you. “Still, I’m impressed. Most people miss the target the first time.”

“Why do I feel like you’re only saying that to make me feel better,” you huff, looking at him from the corner of your eyes.

“He’s not,” Ten’s voice cuts in, making you blink in surprise. You had almost forgotten he’s still in the room with you guys, given how quiet he’s been. “You should be grateful, he rarely praises anybody.”

Noticing the look his brother is giving him, Taemin smirks. He can practically feel the jealous eyes of his brother on him the whole time, only serving to make Taemin more smug about this whole situation. In fact, he’s even going to take this a step further, and show Ten just how close he can get to you.

“Here, adjust your grip and hold it like this,” moving closer to you, Taemin takes your hands into his own, guiding your hands over the gun as he leaves his overtop of yours. Stepping behind you, he fixes your stance to better accommodate your aim. His arms encase you between them, guiding you, and showing you how to shoot properly.

The whole time, he whispers the instructions into your ear, sending a slight shiver down your spine. A fact which doesn’t go unnoticed by him, making him smirk. He can practically feel the burning gaze of his brother on his back as he holds you in his arms, taking aim and telling you to shoot once more.

Ten bites his lip as he watches Taemin do all of this with you right in front of his eyes. It wasn’t enough for his brother to just stand close to you, but now he has the audacity to flaunt being able to touch you like this right in front of him. He clenches his jaw as your next six shots are right on target, never missing once.

Thank goodness the two of you are almost done for the day, and his turn is next. He’ll make sure to show his brother exactly where he stands with you, and put him in his place. If Ten has to suffer through watching you being held and touched by Taemin, he’ll make sure to show him exactly how it felt. Except, he’ll make sure to make it much worse for him. No one, not even his brother, gets away with touching you like that. No one.

Shifting your gaze to look at Taemin, a large grin spreads across your features. He stares back, a satisfied grin on his own face as he reluctantly releases you from his hold and takes a step back.

“Well done,” he praises, only serving to make your smile widen.

“That was amazing, oh my god,” your words come out in a slight jumble as they spill out of your mouth, handing him his gun back as you remove the protective gear and place it to the side. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“Neither can I,” Ten grumbles under his breath, yet Taemin still manages to hear.

Shooting his brother a victorious smirk, Taemin turns his full attention back to you. “Why don’t you take a small break before you begin sparring practice. You’ve earned it.”

The smile never leaves your face as you reply to him, “good idea.”

Walking over to where his brother is now standing with crossed arms, Taemin smirks, “what’s wrong, brother? Is something the matter?”

“You know exactly what’s bothering me, don’t act so coy,” Ten replies, meeting Taemin’s intense gaze with his own deadly stare.

“I didn’t realize how attached you would get,” Taemin replies, mirroring Ten’s stance and crossing his own arms over his chest.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, brother,” Ten hisses, eyes narrowing as he watches Taemin laugh lowly.

“Do you really think you can win against me?” Taemin quirks a brow, daring Ten to challenge him. “I always get what I want, and I don’t intend to lose.”

“Well, you better be prepared for what’s to come then, brother,” Ten states, confidence high as he raises his head slightly in order to intimidate Taemin, “because I intend to win.”

Meanwhile, you move over to the side, grabbing the water bottle that you’ve brought with you for this occasion. Taking a drink, you let out a small content sigh once you’ve had your fill. Wiping at your forehead with the back of your hand, you take in a deep breath. If only Damien could see you now.

He was always fascinated with this sort of thing. Well, at least in video games. You know he would have loved every second of this, and you just wish he could have been here to experience it with you.

Another sigh escapes passed your lips, this once more sorrowful than the last. Closing your eyes briefly, you hope that wherever he is, that he’s in a better place now. At least that’s what you’d like to think.

Opening your eyes back up, you place your water bottle back down. Stretching briefly, you raise your arms above your head, tilting it from side to side and hearing a few satisfying pops sound from your spine. Dropping your hands back to your side, you begin to make your way back over to your two guards, who have both seemingly moved over to where the sparring mats have been set up.

Catching Ten’s gaze, a small smile takes over his features as you move towards them, one which you return.

“Ready to begin?” He asks once you’ve gotten close enough to them.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you joke, attempting to lighten the tense atmosphere you’ve just walked into.

“Good,” he nods, moving over to one side of the mat. “Then let’s begin.”

With a nod, you step onto the sparring mats, Ten standing directly across from you. After a few quick stretches to make sure you won’t pull anything, you’re ready to begin combat training.

“Alright,” Ten says, moving into a fighting stance, “show me what you’ve got.”

Jumping into action, you manage to catch him slightly off-guard, for he’s not expecting you to move right away. You manage to throw a punch at him, only for him to dodge your fist and have you pinned to the mat in the next second.

Your eyes are wide as you stare into his own, him wearing a slight smirk on his face. Your reflexes may be fast, but his are faster.

“That was good,” he comments. “You seem to have good speed, but you don’t know how to read your opponent properly yet.”

In the blink of an eye, you flip him over, pinning him to the mats beneath you.

Now it’s his turn to look at you with wide eyes. No one has ever been able to pin him before. He can hear Taemin laughing in disbelief off to the side, only causing him to grit his teeth in response.

“First rule they teach you in any sort of combat training,” you grin, leaning in closer to his face, “never underestimate your opponent.”

“You got me,” he chuckles, already missing the feel of you on top of him as you move to stand up.

You offer him your hand, to which he takes, as you help him get back onto his feet. Your grin only seems to widen as the two of you get back into your starting positions.

A few moments pass by, the both of you now taking your time to size each other up. This time, you don’t want to be the one to make the first move.

“Don’t hold back,” Ten tells you.

“I wasn’t planning to,” you reply smugly, causing his heart to skip a beat. Your determination is admirable, a fact that he likes about you.

In the blink of an eye, Ten jumps into action. You barely have time to register his attack, but your body seems to move on its own accord, narrowly dodging the hit he sends your way.

He continues throwing hit after hit your way, a few landing as you attempt to keep your defences up. His speed is incredible, though, and you struggle to keep up.

Gritting your teeth in frustration, you wait for an opportune opening to counter. However, it doesn’t look like you’re going to be getting one any time soon. He really knows how to cover his own ass.

The whole time, Taemin watches on in amusement. Never has anyone been able to keep up with Ten like this for their first time. To say he’s impressed would be an understatement. You just keep surprising the both of them today, and they couldn’t be happier.

Ducking underneath a kick Ten sends your way, you manage to lose your footing. A small ‘shit’ leaves your mouth as you land on your back, Ten taking the opportunity to pin you down in the next moment. This time, he makes sure to lock your body beneath his, so you can’t flip him again.

Holding your arms down beside your head, Ten leans down towards your face. Both of you are breathing heavily, attempting to catch your breaths as you stare at one another intently.

“You are very surprising,” he manages to say between breaths, making you smile.

“So I’ve been told,” you giggle, struggling slightly to get out of his grip.

Feeling your attempts to get free only causes him to smirk. He loves the feeling of you pinned beneath him, the sight being an incredible one to behold. Now, if only the two of you were alone, then maybe he would just be able to lean down and attach his lips to yours. Maybe he still might, just to prove to his brother that only he can have you.

“Ten?” Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, his eyes focussing back in on your face which is reflecting slight discomfort at the position you’re being held in. “Do you mind getting off of me now?”

“Right, sorry,” moving swiftly, he hops back onto his feet, helping you to stand up in the next moment. He would have preferred staying in that position for longer, but he doesn’t want to push you, or make you uncomfortable around him. “Here, why don’t we test the strength in your kicks and punches now, seeing as you haven’t been able to land a single hit. There’s more to sparring than just evasion.”

“Sounds good to me,” with a quick nod from you, the two of you are moving over to the punching bag set up in the corner of the room.

“First things first, we need to wrap your hands,” grabbing a fresh roll of tape, Ten gently takes your hands into his own.

As Ten wraps your hands for you, he can’t help but note how perfectly they seem to fit into his own. He makes sure to hold you as gently as he can, showing you how careful and delicate he can be with you. After all, you deserve nothing but the best.

“There, that should be good enough,” Ten says after a few minutes.

Ever so slowly, he removes his hands from yours, his fingertips tingling from where he had just been touching you. He already misses the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips, and he only hopes he can feel it again soon, but next time, he wants to feel more.

Shooting a glance over at Taemin, Ten notices how his jaw seems to be clenched, only causing him to smirk in response. Now his brother knows how it feels, and it’s only going to get worse from here.

Looking down at your now taped hands, you flex them a few times. They feel slightly foreign to you now, as you’ve never had them taped like this before, and each time you flex them, you can feel the tape around your skin, pulling slightly. You smirk.

Shifting your gaze up, you see Ten already standing behind the punching bag, staring at you with a soft expression on his face, but it’s gone almost as quickly as it came. You quirk a brow, moving over to stand in front of him.

“Judging from the way you clocked Minhyuk the other day, I’m assuming you already know how to hit properly,” he says, watching as you nod at him in response. “Good. Now, let’s see what you’re got.”

With another nod from you, you’re getting into a fighting stance, preparing for what you’re about to do. As soon as Ten gives you the okay to start, you begin to hit the punching bag with all you’ve got. Each hit of your fist against the material makes a small sound on impact, and you can see Ten adjust his stance to accommodate for your hits as he holds onto the punching bag.

As you continue to strike the bag, Ten gives you tips to adjust your stance to make your hits more powerful. You listen intently, immediately implicating his advice and seeing the power behind your punches, as well as your stability, increase.

The whole while, Taemin watches on with fondness shining in his eyes. He could care less about his brother being as close to you as he is, but seeing you working hard, and enjoying what you’re doing make his heart warm. You really are something else.

You start to add a few kicks into the mix, but you’re not quite used to them yet. You’ve never really needed to kick anything or anyone before, so the first time you nearly lose your balance. Luckily, you’re able to catch yourself before you fall.

Chuckling slightly, Ten move beside you, allowing for you to catch your breath for a minute as he give you tips on how to land a solid kick. You listen closely, nodding your head along to every word. Once he demonstrates though, your eyes are widening in awe.

“Wow,” you can’t help but mutter, causing a smug look to cross his features as he spares a glance towards a fuming Taemin.

“Now you try,” he says, seeing you nod, and getting into position.

Your foot makes a solid impact with the bag, causing it to sway slightly as Ten hadn’t been holding it in place that time. A large smile rests on your features as you take in your efforts.

“That was really good,” Ten praises, only serving to make your smile widen. “Ready to try sparring one more time?”

“Sure!” You confirm, heading back over to the sparring mats while Ten follows closely behind.

“Okay, whenever you’re ready,” he says, the both of you now back in position.

You waste no time in attacking him now, but he easily avoids you. This time, as he moves to counter you, you observe him carefully, getting a sense of his attack pattern. 

About half way through your sparring match, neither of you has managed to take the other down yet, and you notice something akin to surprise and fondness shining in Ten’s eyes. A fact which you’ll use to your advantage.

Letting him get in a hit on your side, you react accordingly. Hissing slightly, you stumble back, noticing out of the corner of your eyes how Taemin takes a worried step forward, anger shining in his eyes as he stares his brother down. You nearly furrow your brow in confusion, but you have a plan to stick to.

“Shit,” you hear Ten curse, not realizing how powerful he made that hit, and thinking it’s worse than it is.

You take this opportunity as he moves in with a lowered guard to swipe his feet from under him, landing him on his back. Moving quickly, you pin him down, smirking victoriously.

“You shouldn’t let your opponent distract you,” you tease, a smirk pulling at your features as he looks up at you in shock. “Second rule they teach you in combat training.”

You let out a small giggle, staring into Ten’s eyes as his expression morphs into one of awe. He still can’t believe you’ve been able to pin him. Not just once, but twice.

All too soon, you’re standing up off of him, and helping him to his feet. Again, he misses the feeling of you touching him, whether it be above or beneath him.

“Well, I think I’ve had enough training for one day,” you yawn, stretching your hands once more above your head. Your shirt manages to ride up slightly this time, exposing a sliver of skin on your stomach, and driving the two men wild. Taemin licks his lips while Ten swallows slightly.

“You’ve done well today,” Taemin comments, coming over to hand you your water bottle, of which you thank him.

“Yeah, you’re already further along than we both could have expected,” Ten adds, making you look down in slight embarrassment.

“Oh, you guys are just saying that,” you chuckle, feeling your face heat up in the next moment.

“No,” Ten shakes his head.

“We’re not,” Taemin finishes.

Their words only serve to make you more bashful, turning away slightly as you take a drink of water. You fail to see the both of them staring at you fondly before turning to narrow their eyes at each other.

Letting out a small sigh, you place your water bottle on one of the tables off to the side. Just as you’re about to unwrap your hands, a gentle touch stops you. Looking up reveals Ten smiling softly at you.

“Here,” he says, beginning to undo the tape, “let me.”

You don’t say anything in response, opting to nod your head slowly instead. Silently, you watch Ten work, eyes following his every movement as he slowly and carefully removes the tape from around your hands. 

His touch is so gentle, so soft, that it warms your heart. His touch makes you feel as if he’s treating you as if you’re a delicate glass object, but you know he doesn’t think that. A fact which only causes a small smile to grace your lips.

It’s as if the two of you are in your own world once he finishes taking the tape off of your hands. The two of you unaware of your surroundings for a moment as you stare into each other’s eyes. You can hear your heartbeat ringing in your ears as you see him glance at your lips.

A clearing of someone’s throat manages to break the two of you out of your silent bubble. Ten forces himself to tear his gaze away from you, looking over to see Taemin standing there with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Come on,” he says, turning away from you in the next moment. “Let’s go.”

Without another word, Taemin grabs his things and heads out of the room towards the stairs, the two of you following close behind. 

Ten can feel his heart racing in his chest, thinking back to only moments ago. It felt as if it was only you and him. He knows the two of you just shared an intimate moment together, and he could not be happier. It would have been better only if Taemin didn’t interrupt. He sighs, already planning his next move carefully. He knows he has to get you alone. Then, and only then, will he be able to make you his, once and for all.

The next few weeks seem to pass by in a blur for you. Between Damien’s funeral, his wake at your university, not having to go to class or worry about assignments, and also training practice, you’ve been fairly busy. Luckily, you’ve had a good support system consisting of your family, friends, and even your two bodyguards.

Over the past few weeks, the three of you have grown closer to one another. So much so, you gladly consider them your friends, rather than two men hired to protect you. You wouldn’t trade them for anything, and you’re glad you have them with you. However, you’ve noticed that their behaviour has been a little off the past few days.

As for Ten and Taemin, their mock rivalry has become even more intense between them since that first day of training. Their competition over who will have you, and win your heart, is at the forefront of their minds. Well, besides looking after you, of course, but that’s just second nature to them by now.

If one gets an opportunity to spend alone time with you one day, the other gets an equal opportunity the next. Neither of them have gained an upper hand yet, for you don’t seem to favour one over the other, a fact that bothers both of them. Each of them believe they’re better for you, they just need to get you to see that before it’s too late.

Currently, you’re sitting at the dinner table for the evening with your parents, discussing what the upcoming week is going to look like. You let out a sigh as you pick at your food, each of your guards respectfully stationed around the room.

“We’ll be hosting a charity event in a few days’ time at our home here,” your father explains, and you nod absentmindedly. “I expect you to be on your best behaviour, and for you to dress appropriately.”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” you quirk a brow, looking up from your plate to meet your father’s gaze.

“You have to wear a dress this time, (Y/n),” your mother chimes in, taking a sip of her drink.

“Excuse me?” You state in disbelief. “I can wear a dress if the occasion calls for it.”

“We know, sweetie. It’s just that it’s not your usual style,” your mother adds.

“Just because I don’t particularly like wearing fancy dresses doesn’t mean I can’t,” you sigh.

“Alright,” your mother chuckles. “Maybe you can go out tomorrow to look for a dress with Ayla or someone.”

“I actually think I already have a dress I can wear,” you reply, taking a sip of your own drink.

“I think I know the one you’re talking about,” your father nods. “That will be acceptable.”

“Thanks dad,” you shoot him a small smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Standing up, you clear your dishes from the table, bringing them to the kitchen to place them in the sink soon after. You let out a sigh as you begin to make your way to your room for the evening shortly afterwards. You don’t even have to look to know that Taemin and Ten are following close behind.

Stopping just in front of your door, you turn to them.

“I think I’m just going to head to bed early tonight, so you guys are free to do whatever,” you shrug, entering your room in the next moment and closing the door before they can respond.

You’ve been noticing that they’ve both started to stand closer to you than usual lately, going the extra mile to make sure you’re safe. You almost feel suffocated, but you know they mean well. You just need an evening to yourself for once.

The two of them share a look before heading down the hall to their own rooms for the evening, silence hanging thickly in the air. Neither say anything as they enter their respective rooms, both thinking about what dress you could have possibly been talking about. Either way, they both cannot wait to see what you decide to wear when the time comes. Even they get to dress up for the occasion, and both of them cannot wait to show you just how good they can look, especially for you.

Eventually, the day of the event comes and you’re currently in your room getting ready for the evening. You can faintly hear people moving about throughout your house in preparation for the evening, and you begin to wonder why the event is being hosted at your own house. Considering your family is still under threat, having this event at your own house seems a bit counter productive. You just hope there’s a bigger plan in action tonight in case anything goes south.

Letting out a small sigh, you lay the dress you’re going to be wearing this evening on your bed. Luckily, you’re able to get ready by yourself, seeing as your two guards also have to prepare for the evening. 

Moving over to your bathroom, you turn on your shower, making sure the temperature of the water is just right before stepping in. Taking your time, you make sure to scrub your entire body clean. After all, there will be a lot of press coverage of the event tonight, and you want to make sure you’re looking, and feeling, your best.

Stepping out of the shower once you’re done, you dry yourself off slowly. Throwing on your robe, you work on doing your hair and make up before changing into your dress for the evening. The last thing you want is to ruin your dress.

About an hour and a half later, you’re finally done your hair and makeup. Checking your phone for the time, you inhale sharply. You didn’t realize how late it got, and guest should start arriving any minute now.

Sure enough, you can hear cars starting to pull up your driveway in the next minute. So much for being ready on time.

Sighing, you move out of your bathroom and back into the main area of your bedroom. You decide to take your time change into your dress for the evening, seeing as you’re already running a little behind on time. If you’re going to be late, might as well make a stunning entrance.

Twenty minutes later, you’ve finished pulling on your outfit for the evening, making sure everything is in place and that you haven’t ruined your hair or your makeup. Looking over yourself one final time in your mirror, you smile at yourself. You’re happy with how you look for the evening, your entire look suiting your figure perfectly.

Slipping on your heels, you smooth out your dress one final time before heading out of your room for the evening, moving to join the guests downstairs.

Making it to the top of the stairs, you find yourself halting. Your eyes scan the crowd of people, all dressed up for this occasion and conversing amongst themselves. You can faintly hear the soft music of the string quartet playing in the background, creating a nice ambiance for the event at hand. 

No one has noticed you yet, you just silently watching from your location. All except two men who stand just below you.

“Wow,” Ten breaths out as he watches your form descend on the staircase slowly. 

Taemin is able to maintain his composure slightly better than his brother, but that doesn’t stop his eyes from widening slightly as he takes in your full appearance. He can hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears as you make your way towards the two of them, an air of confidence surrounding you like never before.

To say you look stunning would be an understatement. The way your golden gown wraps around your figure makes it look like you’re wearing liquid gold, giving you an almost ethereal glow; makeup and hair done to perfection.

As you walk over to them, you take this time to fully take in their appearances for the evening. Taemin is wearing a dark pinstripe suit with a black and white striped dress shirt underneath, completed with a silk tie tied loosely around his neck with a black and white polkadot pattern scattered upon it. Ten is wearing a simple black suit and tie, but with a red dress shirt tucked underneath. To say they look good would be an understatement.

Reaching the two men, you send them a small smile, causing their hearts to race in their chests.

“Wow,” Ten repeats, eyes continuing to drink in your figure. He can never seem to get enough.

“You look-“ Taemin continues before being cut off by Ten.

“Breathtaking,” Ten finishes with an exhale.

Taemin briefly shoots him a hard look, mad at his brother for taking the words right out of his mouth. He wanted to compliment you before his brother got a chance to.

“Thanks,” you grin, somewhat shyly.

Noticing the way a few men begin to stare at you, Taemin scowls, “that’s not what I was going to say.”

“Than what were you going to say, exactly?” Ten quirks a brow, a silent challenge for his brother.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Taemin narrows his eyes slightly at Ten, on edge already from the continued looks you’re receiving from the males from around the room, as well as from his brother. “Maybe, overdressed.”

His comment catches you off-guard, and you find yourself taken aback slightly. You could have sworn that he looked like he liked what you were wearing.

“Wow, tell me how you really feel,” you grumble, expression falling slightly. This is why you don’t like getting dressed up. Every time you think you look nice, someone always seems to slap you with a backhanded compliment.

“Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” Ten says, shooting a look towards Taemin before turning to look at you with a soft gaze. “I think you look stunning. Care to dance?”

At this, he offers you his hand, a small smile resting on his features as he watches you carefully. His eyes light up as he sees you smile slightly, gently placing your hand in his as he guides you to the open space of the dance floor.

Placing one hand gently on your waist as the other holds yours in his own, he pulls you closer to himself. As soon as the waltz starts, the two of you are moving across the room, captivating those surrounding you.

Meanwhile, Taemin stands off to the side with a scowl on his face. He knows he did this to himself, but he didn’t mean for his words to come out the way they did. He let his creeping jealousy control his mouth for a moment, and it cost him.

Now, instead of dancing with him, you’re being held in his brother’s arms as you move gracefully around the room. He finds himself biting the inside of his cheek as he stares on, wanting nothing more than to share this moment with you himself.

The whole time, Ten can feel his heart pounding in his chest. He can sense more and more people’s eyes on the two of you as you move around the room, and he couldn’t be happier. He can’t help but to think that now everyone can see that you belong with him. After all, thanks to the whispers from the crowd, he’s confirmed that the two of you are perfect for each other.

Once the music ends, the two of you stand momentarily in the centre of the room once more, just staring into each others eyes. Faint sounds of people conversing with each other as well as the quartet starting up another song can be heard in the background, but you don’t really pay much mind to them. All you can focus on right now is Ten, and the way he’s making you feel.

Staring into his eyes, you can see a certain type of fondness reflecting in them, causing your mouth to go dry. No one has ever looked at you like that, like you’re the greatest thing in the entire world; a gift to be treasured and valued.

“What an entrance!” Your father’s voice manages to pull you out of your little bubble, practically jumping out of Ten’s hold in the next second to stand tall and face your father. “I’ve been overhearing nothing but good things about you since you walked down those stairs.”

“Thanks, dad,” you mutter, a small heat creeping up your neck.

“You look beautiful, dear,” your mother smiles at you, causing you to mirror her smile.

“Thank you,” you subconsciously smooth your dress out once more. “As do you.”

“The charity auction should begin in a few minutes,” your father informs you, to which you nod your head, noticing how both Ten and Taemin have come to stand beside you now. “I expect you to continue to be on your best behaviour.”

“Yes, father,” you sigh, having to keep yourself from rolling your eyes at him.

Your mother simply sends you a wink as they walk away arm in arm. You let out another sigh, shaking your head slightly.

“Just for one fucking event, I don’t want to have to be ‘prim and proper’ like this,” you mutter under your breath, low enough so no one can hear you, yet your two guards manage to do so.

At your words, they share a brief glance between each other, their brows quirking slightly as they follow you to the side of the room.

The next ten minutes or so pass by fairly slowly for you, having to converse with some of the upper elites, and those your parents work with. Many of them either rub you the wrong way, or treat you as if you’re incapable of having a coherent thought, which just irks you to no end. Yet another reason why you dislike getting dressed up like this, many people just equate you to simply another pretty face, basing your worth in how you look, rather than your intelligence.

You hear the sounds of the quartet slowly coming to a close as the tapping of a microphone draws people’s attention to the front of the room. You’re grateful for the interruption, considering you don’t think you could have lasted much longer listening to this senator talk about how much times have changed.

“Good evening to all, and thank you all for coming,” your father begins to speak as people shift towards where he and your mother are standing. “I would like to take the time now to-“

You zone out slightly to what he’s saying, no longer that interested in what’s going on. You just want this event to be over so you can put your feet up and rest for the evening, and you haven’t even been socializing for more than a few hours. Shifting from foot to foot, you attempt to get comfortable on your feet, which are beginning to ache from standing for this amount of time in your heels.

Taemin stands to your right while Ten stands off to your left, both of them glancing to you out of the corner of their eyes every now and then. They can see your disinterest in this whole ordeal, even though you hide it well.

Taemin takes this time to look around the room too, scanning for any potential threats that may be lurking around if they’ve managed to slip through the tight security at your home. 

Ten, on the other hand, chooses to observe you more closely. He notices how you keep shifting from side to side like you’re uncomfortable, and he realizes that your shoes must be making standing like this quite difficult. He has to resist the urge to wrap his arm around you and tell you to lean on him for support, or better yet, take you into his arms so he can hold you, letting you relax while also showing you how he can care for you. However, he doesn’t want to cause a scene.

Letting out a long breath, you allow your eyes to wander around the area as the auction begins. Your eyes catch movement off to the side, thinking it unusual for someone to be ducking low through the crowd, almost as if they do not wish to be seen.

Your eyes widen slightly as you see the figure draw a small metallic object from their side. Without waiting, you nudge Ten beside you, motioning to the figure off to the side with your head, soon doing the same with Taemin who already seems to have his gaze locked on the mysterious figure.

Moving swiftly, they both stand to guard you, Taemin taking the front while Ten takes the rear. Just in time, too, for in the next moment, a scream is heard from the side of the room, the crowd parting to reveal a security guard on the floor with a knife sticking out of his neck. 

The stranger soon moves quickly towards the front of the room where your parents are. The figure draws a gun, but before he can raise it in the air, he’s gunned down by Siwon.

A moment of silence passes over the room, and you’re just about to breathe a sigh of relief when all hell breaks loose.

Many people standing in the crowd pull weapons from their clothing, turning either against your parents, or coming to surround you. Many of the others simply attempt to run out of the house in fear, scrambling as people push over each other to escape harms way.

“Why does this not surprise me,” Taemin huffs, hearing Ten grunt in response as they both pull out their respective weapons.

Three men and three women begin to close in on the three of you, setting your heart racing in your chest. You can see both Natasha and Siwon already in combat with a few others, doing what they can to protect your parents as separate guards lead them away to safety. You hope they get out okay.

Taemin is quick to make the first move, firing his gun and managing to kill the man in front of him. The others spring into action immediately following, and you stand tense in between it all.

You have no weapon on you, nor means of escape at the moment. You’re just lucky someone hasn’t shot you yet, but you suppose you have Ten and Taemin to thank for that. They’ve managed to get the group of six down to two, facing off the last one’s still standing.

Bodies surround you, and you can feel yourself becoming lightheaded. You need to get out of here, just as your parents have managed to do.

“Step aside, you’re not the one who has to die,” the female in front of Taemin says, holding her gun pointing at his head as he does the same to her.

“But you do,” he replies, a slight crazed look in his eyes as he fires a quick shot into her skull.

No one threatens you and gets to live. No one.

He turns to check on you in the next second, making sure you’re not hurt, and still breathing. His hands come to rest on your shoulders as he looks you over briefly, noticing how Ten is still locked in combat with his final opponent.

Your eyes catch movement on the balcony above you, noticing a sniper taking aim at where you’re standing. Your eyes widen significantly.

“Taemin, look out!” You manage to push the two of you down just in time to avoid the first shot.

“Fuck,” he manages to get out through grit teeth, rolling the two of you over so his body now covers yours since you landed on top of him when you pushed the two of you down.

He manages to jump up in time to take aim and kill the sniper, but not before being grazed by the second bullet.

At this point, Ten has finished off the final attacker and moved over to the two of you. Taemin grasps his side as Ten helps you off of the floor.

“Shit, are you okay?” You worriedly look over Taemin, noticing the blood starting to seep from between his fingers from where he holds his hand over his wound.

“It’s only a scratch,” he assures you, managing to hide his wince in pain. “Trust me, I’ve had worse.”

“We need to get her out of here,” Ten says, the two of them locking eyes and nodding their heads briefly at one another. If there’s one thing they can agree upon, it’s your safety.

Without another word, they begin to guide you over to the exit in which your parents have taken which is hidden behind the staircase. However, before you can enter, a bullet whizzes past your head, making impact with the wall.

Glancing over your shoulder reveals four new figures approaching the three of you, guns raised and ready to shoot.

“Get her out of here, I’ll catch up with you guys,” Taemin says, pushing you behind his back to cover you.

“Right,” Ten nods, grabbing your arm and practically dragging you to the hidden exit.

“But you’re injured!” You see Taemin briefly glance at you from over his shoulder. His heart warms knowing you care about him.

“I’ll be fine,” he assures you, a subtle grin pulling at the corner of his lips as he hears the worry in your voice. “Now go! I’ll be right behind you.”

Without waiting for you to respond, Ten drags you down the hallway of the exit, grabbing your hand in his as he runs down the hall. Your shoes manage to get kicked off, for which you’re grateful for as you continue to run down the passage which leads to the secret garage.

Bursting through the door, Ten immediately leads you over to one of the cars. Opening the back door for you, he motions for you to get in quickly. You shoot him a worried look, glancing back to the now closed door which you’ve just come through.

“He’ll be fine,” he reassures you. “Now, let’s go, we need to get you out of here.”

You simply nod your head in response, shuffling into the back seat. Once you’re seated inside the car, Ten quickly closes the back door in order to jump into the drivers seat in the next moment.

Flipping down the visor, the keys fall into his lap. Moving quickly, he puts the keys into the ignition, starts the engine, and practically tears out of the garage. You grip the seat anxiously, feeling as if your heart is about to burst through your chest at any moment given how hard it’s beating.

After a few minutes of driving in silence, you manage to calm yourself down enough to speak.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask, and you can see his eyes glance at your figure from the rearview mirror.

“To a safe house,” he replies, eyes flicking back to the empty road in front of him.

“What about my parents? And Taemin?” You shift slightly, brow creasing in worry.

“They’ll be fine. Your parents have their own agreed upon safe house, and you have your own. Taemin will contact me when he can, and so will either Siwon or Natasha,” he explains, and you find yourself only relaxing slightly. You can tell that you’re still very on edge, Ten’s words not comforting you as much as you want them to.

“What is this safe house, and how come I’ve never been told of it before?” You look up to meet his gaze in the rearview mirror for a moment before he’s shifting his gaze back on the road once more.

“It’s mine and Taemin’s old house which we agreed upon to use with your parents when we were first hired, if a situation like this ever arose,” Ten goes on to say, and you nod your head slightly, moving to rest your forehead against the cool glass of the window.

“I just hope they’re all okay,” you mumble, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

His heart pangs in his chest, hearing how small your voice sounds at the moment. “They will be. I’m sure of it.”

Nothing else is spoken between the two of you for the rest of the car ride, and before you know it, Ten cuts the engine. It feels like you’ve been driving for hours, but you’re pretty sure that’s only because of how wound up you currently are, and Ten making sure the two of you aren’t being followed.

Stepping out of the car, you wince slightly. Looking down reveals a gravel driveway, the small rocks digging into the skin of your bare feet.

Ten follows your gaze, noticing how you’ve lost your shoes. The corner of his lips twitch as he moves beside you, helping to support you weight as the two of you walk to the door.

Unlocking the front door, Ten is the first to enter, flicking on the lights as you shuffle in behind him. Once you’re inside, he closes the door behind you, locking it as soon as it shuts.

Taking this time now, you look around the entranceway of the house. A small smile pulls at your features as you take in small photos lining the walls, and little trinkets on the hallway table. It’s simple, but nice.

The house is located surrounded by a few hills, a forest to the front while a cliff dropping off to the ocean resides at the back. It’s a simple one story house, but it’s bigger than it looks. One thing that’s most surprising though, is how clean everything looks.

“Nice place you have here,” you comment, moving slowly through the hallway as you take in everything around you.

“Thanks,” Ten hums, slipping off his shoes and following you down the hall.

“I’m honestly shocked at how clean it is,” you say, and you can hear him chuckle.

“We have an old friend of ours look after out place while we’re gone,” he tells you, leaning on the side of the wall as he watches you now stare out the back windows. “He’s the only one we trust to do so.”

“That’s nice,” you shoot him a small, forced smile over your shoulder, and he can feel his lips tug downwards. 

He can tell you’re still very worried about everything that has happened tonight, and whether or not your parents are okay. In the back of his mind, he hopes that worry doesn’t extend too much to his brother.

“Here, I’ll see if I can find something for you to change into,” he says, pushing himself off of the wall and heading towards his bedroom.

From the soft footfalls of your feet behind him, he can tell you’re following him. Your arms are crossed in front of your chest as you nervously chew on your bottom lip, worry clouding your mind.

Entering his room, you immediately sit on his bed, eyes following his movements without fully registering his presence. It’s only when you feel the bed dip beside you, as well as a gentle hand being placed upon your shoulder, do you jolt, startled out of your thoughts by the sudden touch.

“Are you going to be okay?” He asks, concern evident on his features.

“I will be once I have some answers,” you sigh, rubbing the side of your head.

“I’ve laid out some clothes for you,” he says, motioning beside him on the bed with his head where an old pair of sweatpants and t-shirt lay. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

He shoots you one final look before standing up, and going to leave you alone in his room. You notice him grabbing a separate change of clothes before he slips out the door, closing it softly behind him. Once he’s gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’ve been holding.

Looking down at your hands in your lap, you curl and uncurl your fingers a few times to calm yourself. Standing up, you think over the events of the night once more, anxiety eating away at your nerves.

For starters, you do not have your phone on you, so you have no way of checking social media or news outlets, nor do you have a way of contacting anybody. You’re now in an unfamiliar area, despite it being a safe house for you in times like these. Taemin has been shot, and you don’t know if he’s actually gotten out alive. Not to mention the fact that you don’t even know if your parents have gotten out alive.

At this point, all you can do is wait for an answer, and hope for the best.

Releasing another breath, you move over to the dresser, deciding it would be a good idea to let your hair down for starters. Taking a look at your reflection, you notice your makeup slightly smudged from the events of the night.

Moving over to the bed, you grab the change of clothes left for you, soon moving over to the adjacent bathroom attached to Ten’s room. He won’t mind you having a quick shower, hopefully. Besides, you want to wash your makeup off. You’re just hoping you don’t turn into a raccoon from your mascara.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re stepping out of the shower. The warm water helped to relax your muscles slightly, and wash away some of the worry on your mind. Changing quickly, you decide you’re too warm for pants at the moment. Luckily, the shirt he’s given you is quite large, managing to cover all the important bits.

Folding your dress nicely, you place it on the dresser once you’re finished. The last thing you want is for it to wrinkle considering how nice the material is. 

You spare a glance at yourself in the mirror one final time, grateful that you’ve managed to avoid looking like a racoon after washing off your makeup. Taking a deep breath, you exit the room.

Making your way back to the living room, you hear the faint sounds of the television drifting down the hall. From the sounds of it, you can tell Ten is watching the news as the anchor reports on the turn of events this evening at your parent’s charity auction.

Hearing movement, Ten glances over to the entrance of the living room, his breath catching in his throat as he takes in your appearance. Shamelessly, he allows his gaze to trail your body, taking in the sight of your bare legs as you stand in nothing but his shirt. His whole body feels like an electrical current is running through him at the moment, feeling himself become warm.

Noticing his gaze, you shuffle on your feet briefly before moving to sit beside him on the couch. “I hope you don’t mind that I took a shower.”

“No,” he takes a deep breath in, and fuck, you smell like him now. He clears his throat, “not at all.”

“Any updates?” You ask, curling your legs beside you on the couch as you focus your attention on the screen in front of you. Ten has yet to stop staring at you.

“Yeah, Siwon called about ten minutes ago. Your parents are both fine,” he sees you visually relax, shoulders dropping in relief as you let out a sigh of relief. “Looks like the special ops forces were able to make it in time to catch the leader behind the attacks as well.”

“Who was it?” You eyebrow quirks, now turning your full attention to him.

“Just some underground, rich, drug lord,” Ten shrugs casually. “I think his name was Donnie Yu.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” you smile weakly. You have a feeling your troubles have only just begun.

“Yeah, you might not need me anymore after tonight,” Ten jokes, attempting to lighten the mood, but you can sense the hint of seriousness in his voice. He almost sounds disappointed.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” you shoot him a smirk, nudging him playfully on his thigh with one of your feet, allowing your leg to rest over his soon after. From the way he drapes his arm over your skin, you know he doesn’t mind. “Speaking of, how’s Taemin? Any news on him?”

You feel him tense slightly beneath you, looking at you from the corner of his eyes as his expression drops slightly.

“He’s fine,” comes his short reply, only continuing after the look you send his way. “He called shortly after Siwon did. Said he’s at the hospital getting his wound sorted out, though he said he wanted to get here as soon as he can.”

“He should rest,” you answer, running a hand through your damp locks slightly.

“That’s what I told him, too,” Ten huffs, nearly rolling his eyes as he recalls his brother’s words. “He told me he was worried about you.”

“That’s… sweet of him,” the corner of your lips twitch upwards.

“He said the hospital wants to keep him overnight for observation, so he should be here sometime within the morning,” he replies, doing his best to ignore the fact that even when he’s not here, Taemin still has some sort of effect on you.

You simply nod your head in response, moving to rest your chin in the palm of your hand in the next moment while leaning your elbow on the arm of the couch. The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, and you notice how Ten begins to rub his thumb gently against the skin of your leg, sending a small shiver up your spine. He smiles slightly.

As the news continues to cover the events of the night, Ten notices you shifting slightly in discomfort beside him. Grabbing the remote, he opts to change the channel. Anything to get your mind off of things.

“Thanks,” he hears you mumble after a moment, causing him to hum. “I don’t know if I could handle reliving that again.”

“I understand,” he squeezes your leg softly. “Those kinds of moments can be difficult to process, and considering what you’ve already been through, you’re taking things surprisingly very well.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You lock gazes with him, eyebrow quirked in question.

“What I mean is, you’re stronger than you think you are, and I admire you for that,” he admits, another small smile gracing his features. “You’re not all you appear to be.”

“Oh,” you breathe, looking down at the floor in slight embarrassment. You’re not expecting this to come from him, but it warms your heart nonetheless. “Thanks.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” his face becomes serious in the next moment, taking you slightly aback. “You don’t know how scared I was tonight.”

“Scared?” Your brow furrows.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” looking into his eyes, your own widen slightly seeing the serious look in them.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” you tease, attempting to lighten the atmosphere.

“Who says I want to?” He smirks, but the sincerity in his voice makes your heart skip a beat.

Nothing is spoken between the two of you for a moment. Instead, the two of you opt to stare into each other’s eyes. You can sense the mood between the two of you has shifted, the noise from the television becoming drowned out in the background.

At this point, the two of you have sat up slightly, subconsciously shifting closer to each other. Ten has yet to move his touch from your leg, his hand itching to feel more of your skin beneath him. You look so beautiful like this, and now there’s no one here to interrupt you.

Your lips part slightly, and you notice his gaze flicker down to them. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, heart racing in his chest as his thoughts run wild. He knows he shouldn’t be doing this, especially not after the evening you’ve had, but he wants you. He needs you.

Just as he begins to lean in, you manage to blink a few times, clearing your head and pulling away slightly. You want this too, but you don’t know if you’re making the right choice. 

You’ve been getting the impression that Ten cares for you, in more than a client sort of way, but you don’t want to get your hopes up. If this truly is the end, and you don’t need him anymore for your protection, does he view taking you to bed as a reward for his service? You don’t know, and you don’t really want to suffer through that heartache. You’ve already lost enough as it is.

You clear your throat, successfully pulling him out of his trance and causing him to look at you with mild concern on his features. Is he reading the situation wrong?

“I think I’m going to go to bed now,” your voice comes out as a whisper, but he still manages to hear.

“You can take my room, I’ll sleep on the couch,” he almost sighs, heart clenching in his chest as he leans back slightly. He’s so close to having you all to himself. So close.

You don’t respond, simply opting to nod your head instead. You need to get out of there before you do something you’ll regret.

Sliding your one leg off of his lap, you stand from the couch. Moving slowly, you exit the living room, eyes holding a specific type of sorrow for not being able to take what you want. You don’t want your status to be used as another notch on somebody’s belt.

The whole time, Ten follows your movements with his gaze until he can no longer see you. His breathing begins to deepen as he catches a glance at the sorrow in your eyes as you turned to leave the room. He knows what you’re thinking, and like hell is he going to let you slip through his fingertips like this. Not when he has you all to himself, and most certainly not when you want him just as badly and he wants you.

Pushing himself off of the couch, his thoughts begin to swirl with desire and desperation for you, and only you. He cares too much for you to not show you exactly how he feels, and how well you deserve to be treated. Determination flashes in his eyes, along with something else, but it disappears as quickly as it comes.

You make it about halfway down the hall when you feel yourself get grabbed by your shoulder, and pushed into the wall. Your eyes widen as you see the dark look in Ten’s eyes; the lust that swirls deep in his irises.

“Ten, what are you-“

You don’t even get the chance to finish your sentence before he’s smashing his lips to yours, hands coming up to cup the sides of your face as he presses himself into you. Your breath gets caught in your throat momentarily, hands frozen at your sides as he pulls away briefly to stare into your eyes once more.

“Like I said,” he says, his voice a few tones deeper than before, “I’m not letting you go so easily.”

With that, he reattaches his lips to yours briefly before trailing his lips along the side of your jaw, nipping at your skin. A gasp escapes your lips as you feel him bite down lightly on your neck, your eyes falling shut in bliss.

“Just tell me to stop and I will,” he mumbles against your skin. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll leave you be.”

“Ten,” the way you nearly whimper his name sends a shiver up his spine, feeling you wrap your arms around him to tangle your fingers in his hair. “I do want this, fuck, I really do, but-“

“But nothing, darling,” he cuts you off, leaning his forehead against your own. “Those others before me, they never deserved you. I want you. Not the president’s daughter. Not anyone else. Just you.”

His words cause you to inhale a sharply. Your heart flutters in your chest at how sincere he sounds, him being able to sooth your worries with every word that is spoken. 

“Even if it’s just for one night, please,” he nearly begs, “let me have you. Let me worship you the way you deserve.”

His hands now drop to your sides as he falls to his knees before you, looking up at you with such admiration and want. Your head begins to spin as you barely manage to nod your consent, one hand coming to tangle itself in his hair as he smirks up at you.

“You don’t know how happy you’ve just made me, baby girl,” he hums, pressing his face into your stomach as his hands begin to run up the sides of your thighs. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

“Then what are you waiting for,” you smirk down at him, your persona immediately flipping, only serving to turn him on further as his eyes darken even more.

“Nothing,” he hums, pushing your thighs apart slightly as you lean back into the wall.

Bringing his hands up, he allows them to slip underneath the material of your shirt, feeling your skin beneath them and biting his lip as he feels you shiver beneath his touch. He takes this opportunity to trail his lips over every inch of your skin bared to him, leaving small nips here and there on the insides of your thighs.

He takes his time, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties as he drags them down your legs, tossing them to the side once he’s gotten them off of you. He locks eyes with you, placing your one leg over his shoulder as he breathes in your scent deeply. He can’t help but let his eyes fall shut in bliss as he turns his head to bite a mark into your thigh. You smell amazing, and all his.

Feeling you fingers tighten their hold in his hair, he smirks. Deciding to give you what you want, he turns back to face your aching entrance, seeing your lips twitch in anticipation. Flicking his tongue out, he gently grazes your clit, making sure to keep eye contact with you, and not wanting to miss a single reaction you give him.

The gasp you offer him is like music to his ears, and he can hardly wait to elicit more sounds from those gorgeous lips of yours tonight. He’ll take everything you have to offer him, and more.

Diving back in, he licks a strip from your entrance all the way to your clit, sucking it gently into his mouth as he watches you throw your head back in bliss. His hands tighten their hold on your thighs as he circles his tongue over your clit, bringing it back down to collect the sweet nectar that drips from your core.

He can’t help but hum at the taste of you on his lips, allowing his eyes to fall shut once more. This all he’s ever dreamed of, and more. He could never get tired of this, of you.

“Fuck, darling, you taste so good,” he hums against your core, causing a moan to escape your lips, grinding down slightly on his face.

Bringing his tongue back to your entrance, he begins to thrust it into you, feeling your walls clench around him. He feels you starting to move rhythmically against his tongue as he circles your clit once more, loving how you begin to fuck yourself on his face.

By now, your juices are running down his chin, his hands pulling you as close to him as possible. Unfiltered moans of his name slip past your lips, and he swears something within him has finally snapped. Seeing you like this, and hearing you call out for no one but him drives him insane.

Picking up the pace, he can tell you’re getting closer to the edge. He continues to eat you out like you’re his last meal, wanting to see you fall apart for him, and only him.

With a loud cry of his name, your back is arching off the wall, legs trembling as you come. He swears there’s no sight more beautiful, nor sound as sweet, and he wants to experience this again, and again, and again.

He’s so glad that he gets to experience you like this, that he nearly growls at the thought of his brother having gotten to you before he could, and in that moment, he makes a vow to himself. You’re his, not his brother’s. His brother will never have the joy of knowing what you look like when you come for him, of having you sigh his name in pleasure. No, Ten won’t allow it. After tonight, he’ll never let another have you like this, ever again.

Pulling away from you, he licks his lips. Your chest rises and falls with every breath you take, and he smirks to himself seeing how your legs still shake slightly as he sets you back on your own two feet. 

Slowly standing back up, he’s painfully aware of how hard he’s become, feeling himself strain against the material of his pants. He takes a moment to take in the sight of you, still in his shirt, a panting mess from the orgasm he’s just given you. He swears you’ve never looked more perfect than in this moment.

He feels your hands sneak beneath the material of his shirt, taking the hint and removing it in the next second. This time, a shiver runs down his spine at the feeling of your hands trailing over his skin. He attaches his lips to yours once more, thumbs gently brushing over your erect nipples through his shirt.

A small moan escapes past your lips as you feel him grind himself into you, feeling how hard he’s become. Your arms sneak around his back, pulling him even closer as he deepens the kiss, a low groan sounding in his chest.

Breaking away from his lips, you allow your own to travel down his neck, sucking marks of your own into his skin, and eliciting small whines from his lips. He tilts his head back in bliss as he feels you bite down on a particularly sensitive spot on his neck, pride filling his chest as you mark him as yours.

Feeling his hands trail underneath your shirt, you move to take it off, but he stops you.

“No, leave it on,” he growls, nails biting into the skin of your hips. Seeing you in his own shirt ignites a possessive spark in him, loving the fact that you’re covered in nothing but him tonight.

He bites his lip as he sees you nod out of the corner of his eyes, feeling your hands beginning to fiddle with the waistline of his pants. Your fingers hook at the top, sliding the material down his legs until he can kick it off and to the side. A low groan escapes his lips as he feels you wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him a few times before lining his tip up with your entrance.

Through his haze of lust, he manages to remember something, grabbing your wrist to halt your movements.

“Wha-“ he cuts you off with a brief kiss to your lips, moving to pull away from you in the next second, but you stop him, seemingly reading his thoughts. “It’s fine, I’m on the pill.”

“Shit,” he barely gets out through gritted teeth as you reposition him at your entrance.

Ever so slowly, he begins to enter you. He can hear his heartbeat racing in his ears and his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head at the feeling of you fully wrapped around him. Nothing could have ever prepared him for the feeling of your warm walls pulsing around him, fitting him so perfectly. Almost as if you’re made for him.

Resting his arms beside you on the wall, he buried his face into the side of your neck. He needs to take a moment to catch his breath, and once he’s calmed down enough, he feels your own arms wrap around his back, nails biting into the skin of his shoulders.

Testing the waters, he give a shallow roll of his hips into yours, loving the way your head tilts back, allowing him better access to your neck. You seem to read his mind, for in the next moment, your one leg comes to wrap around his waist as his hand grips the skin of your thigh tightly. He pulls you closer as he pushes you harder into the wall, wanting to feel all of you pressed up against him.

He sets a slow pace to start, making sure to hit deep with every thrust. Your sounds serve to edge him on, small growls of your own name slipping past his lips as he succumbs to the feeling of all of you pressed against him.

“Fuck,” he moans, hearing your breath hitch as he hits a certain spot within you. “You take my cock so well, baby girl.”

A low groan of his name is all he receives in response from you, smirk pulling at his lips as he begins to pick up the pace, feeling you tighten your hold around him. He loves the effect he’s having on you, and knowing that he’s the only one able to do this sets his head spinning.

“Right there, fuck,” you whimper right in his ear, and he can feel his cock twitch in excitement.

He can feel you getting closer to the edge for the second time that night as he starts to pound into you. The way your walls are squeezing him so tightly has another moan of your name slipping past his lips. He never wants this moment to end.

Your whimpers of his name are starting to become more frequent, feeling the coil in your stomach tightening once more as you near your peak. You nearly scream once you feel his free hand reach in between your bodies to flick at your clit.

He locks gazes with you, and the almost primal look in his eyes is the final push that sends you tumbling over the edge and into your second orgasm of the night. Your scream gets lodged in your throat as you lean forward, biting into the skin of his shoulder as pleasure shoots through every nerve of your body.

“That’s it, baby, let go,” he praises, feeling himself following you over the edge as he comes within you, burying himself as deep as he possibly can, “just like that, fuck.”

Nothing is heard besides the sounds of your panting, breaths mingling together as you both come down from your highs. You release the hold your teeth have on his shoulder, legs shaking as he sets you back onto your own two feet. 

Resting his forehead against yours once more, he looks deep into your eyes, “you’re amazing.”

His words have a small heat rising to your cheeks as you shoot a small grin his way. You allow yourself to relax as he pulls out of you, feeling his seed spill out of you and begin to drip down your thighs.

“So much for my shower,” you giggle, and he smiles at you, feeling his stomach flip at the sound of your laughter.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he says, taking your hand and leading you to his room.

After a warm bath together, the two of you head to bed, with you falling asleep wrapped in Ten’s arms. He smiles down at you, gently brushing your hair back from your face before leaning down and placing a soft kiss onto your forehead.

His heart swell in his chest, one constant thought repeating itself over and over in his head until he’s able to drift off to sleep. Mine.

Ten wakes up the next morning earlier than you, but he doesn’t mind. Sunlight streams through the window, casting a warm glow over your skin and making him smile. You look so peaceful like this, and he couldn’t be happier. He can still hardly believe the events of last night.

Reluctantly, he gets out of bed, deciding to make you both something for breakfast. He runs a hand through his hair, searching around his room quietly for a pair of sweatpants to slip on. Once he find them, he slips out of his room, gently closing the door halfway so as not to disturb you.

Walking down the hall, he notices both of your discarded clothes from last night. Smirking to himself, he decides to clean those up later. After all, it’s just proof that what you did last night actually happened, and wasn’t some made up fantasy his mind conjured up.

Making it to the kitchen, he begins to hum a small tune to himself as he prepares the food. Nothing could make him happier than he is in this moment in time, knowing that you’re his now, and he’s yours.

Meanwhile, the sound of an engine cutting out comes from outside. In the next moment, Taemin steps out of the car, letting out a sigh as he sees his familiar home. All he wants to do is get inside, check on you to make sure you’re okay, and then maybe sleep for a few hours. He’s been on edge ever since last night, and he needs to see your comforting face in order to know everything will be alright.

Stepping through the door, Taemin tosses his jacket to the side, sliding off his shoes in the next moment. Making his way towards the kitchen, he can smell the faint aroma of food cooking. In the back of his mind, he hopes it’s you that’s cooking for him, something he would have no problem getting used to.

Instead, he’s greeted by the sight of his shirtless brother, standing in front of the stove as he cooks something, you nowhere in sight. Narrowing his eyes slightly, Taemin focusses on the red scratch marks lining his brother’s back, and his jaw clenches. Looking to his side, and down the hall, confirms his suspicions, seeing his brother’s clothes scattered on the floor, as well as a pair of panties laying close by. Through the crack in Ten’s door, Taemin spots you curled up in his bed, blissfully unaware to the storm brewing just outside.

Taemin’s anger flares. “What did you do?”

Ten turns around, and it’s at this point that Taemin spots the bright red bite mark displayed proudly on his brother’s shoulder, setting his own blood boiling. That should be him covered in your marks, not Ten.

“Oh, hello there, brother,” Ten smirks, turning off the stove and turning around to see Taemin standing tense in the entranceway to the kitchen.

“How dare you,” Taemin seethes, eyes narrowing as he takes a threatening step towards Ten.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ten feigns innocence, knowing that this will only serve to make his brother even more furious than he already is.

“How dare you touch her,” Taemin’s voice is low, dripping with venom as he feels white hot fury coursing through his veins.

“Well, you weren’t here,” Ten smirks, staring his brother down with a malicious look in his eyes, “and considering how things went, she couldn’t get enough.”

Taemin can feel something within himself snap. He’s supposed to have you, not Ten. You’re his, and if he can’t have you, no one can.

Pulling out his gun, Taemin aims right at Ten’s head, “give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now for touching what’s mine.”

“Now, now, brother,” Ten’s grin only widens as he shifts slightly, hand resting on the counter behind him as he feels the handle of the knife against his fingertips. “There’s no need for violence. Haven’t we seen enough?”

“After all this death, what’s one more life?” Taemin tilts his head slightly, almost mockingly.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Ten replies, voice full of malice as he grips the handle of the knife firmly in his hands.

In the next moment, the two of them spring into action, Ten whipping the knife at Taemin, causing him to move out of the way just in time as the knife gets imbedded in the wall. Ten uses this opportunity as Taemin’s gun is lowered to rush over, kicking the gun out of his brother’s hand.

Taemin manages to land a hit against Ten’s side, only to receive a kick to the leg in return. The two men are now caught in a battle back and forth for a good minute before Ten sees an opening, going to attack Taemin’s injury.

Striking quickly, Ten hits Taemin’s bullet wound, causing him to cry out in pain. Using the opening that this has created for him, Ten grabs Taemin, flipping him over and slamming him into the kitchen table.

The loud sound of something breaking jolts you out of your sleep. Rubbing your eyes slightly, you hear the faint sounds of grunts coming from the direction of the kitchen. Furrowing your brow slightly in confusion, you toss the covers off of your body, and begin making your way cautiously out of the bedroom and to the kitchen.

The sight that greets you has your eyes widening in shock. A knife is embedded in the wall near you, while the kitchen table is smashed to pieces. However, that’s not what’s most surprising.

Taemin has Ten pinned against the opposite wall, gun poised right at his head as both their chests heave. You faintly notice a dark red stain slowly spreading on the side of Taemin’s shirt that he must have gotten from the hospital last night, meaning his wound has been reopened.

“You’ve forsaken me for the last time, brother,” Taemin spits, and you take this time to shake your head, pulling yourself out of your temporary frozen state.

“What, the ever-loving fuck, is going on?” You nearly screech, eyes wide as you stare at the two men before you.

“Don’t worry, love, I’ll make sure he’ll never be able to touch you again,” Taemin says from over his shoulder, and due to the angle you’re standing at, you fail to miss the crazed look in his eyes.

“Excuse me?” Your voice holds nothing but pure disbelief.

“How can you be so sure she even wants you?” Ten says, calm despite the situation he’s in at the moment.

“How can you?” Taemin counters, jaw setting in a firm line.

“I think the events of last night are pretty self explanatory, don’t you?” Ten quirks a brow, almost mockingly. “Can I just say, she tastes divine.”

Taemin cocks his gun, moving to press the barrel right against Ten’s forehead, eyes vicious. “Give me one good reason why I should let you live.”

Even though you know Ten’s words are only to provoke Taemin, you can’t keep your eyes from widening. This is all too sudden for you, especially after the events of last night. You thought you were finally safe. You thought you were free.

“What the fuck is going on here?” You repeat your question, locking eyes with Ten as he simply smirks.

“You see, darling,” the gun is pressed harder into his head, “we seem to have both taken a particular interest in you, and now we both want you to ourselves. In our line of work, sharing isn’t really apart of our vocabulary when we want something, and what we want, is you.”

“Do you really think you’re the better option for her?” Taemin growls out. “I can give her everything she’s ever wanted, and so much more. Protect her. Cherish her. Love her.”

“Is that so?” Ten shifts his gaze over to his brother, a mischievous smirk dancing on his lips. “Then why don’t we let her choose.”

“What?” Once again, you’re taken aback by his words.

Taking a step back, Taemin relaxes his shoulders slightly, while Ten lets out a small breath in relief. Both of them are confident you’ll pick them in the end, knowing that whoever you choose, the other will kill in an instant. They’ll make sure they’re the only ones that can have you.

“Go ahead,” Ten locks eyes with you once more, “choose.”

“What are you talking about, you can’t make me choose-“

“You can, and you will,” Ten’s hard voice cuts you off, continuing to stare you down as a chill runs down your spine.

“So who’s it going to be, Princess? Him,” Taemin nods his head briefly in his brother’s direction, narrowing his eyes as they lock with yours, “or me?”

[minghaocouture]

Fearless: Chapter 10

Pairing: Werewolf!Jeon Wonwoo x Vampire!Reader Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Non-Idol Au Warnings: Language WC: 3.4k+ AU Lore:  Vampire Coven Info/Wolf Pack Info/Lore Info Tag List: @moon-asia @uglychildd @woozisnoots @hwangjangmi @rjsmochii @fluffyhyeju @darkacrimson @skjdln​ @moonchild9499​

Couldn’t Tag: @unbaeknownst, @Angelmingyu

A/N: We’re just gonna pretend it’s not 1am and I didn’t upload this super late lol. I also wanted to leave you guys with a little cliff hanger <3 

Chapter List:  Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3/Chapter 4/Chapter 5/Chapter 6/Chapter 7/Chapter 8/Chapter 9/Chapter 10/Chapter 11/Chapter 12/Chapter 13/Chapter 14

It was far too early for it to be this loud in this house. Running on a different internal clock than the other occupants of this house proved to be more of an issue to you than you had originally thought.

Now here you were, head hidden under a pillow as you tried to block out the rummaging and chatter from downstairs. You were trying to get over your previous prejudice of the wolves and their pack, but as of this moment you were finding it really hard not to keep hating them, if only for the noise they were all currently making.

A groan left your lips as you heard another loud crash from downstairs. Rolling over and burying your face into the mattress, as if that would help. Hell it didn’t even block out the small laughter in the room you were currently in. Peeking out from under the pillow, you glanced over to the bed that Wonwoo had slept in the night before. He was now sitting up and staring at you, laughing at your struggle. To add insult to injury he apparently decided that sleeping shirtless was something that was okay, even with you in the room. 

“Oh laugh it up, wolf boy. We’ll see who's laughing when I find a way to wake you up in the middle of the night.”

“I mean, I could always stay over at your place and give you the opportunity?” The suggestion had you quickly exiting your pillow hiding place and sitting up to face him. Eyes wide as you stared at him, confused by his sudden bold words. “Or...you could call me late at night until I wake up. That works too.”

Rolling your eyes at his quick backtracking and letting out a loud yawn, “I mean, the first one is kind of an option, but I’m still not too sure if i’m going to have a ‘place’ after all this is over with.” You retorted, lifting your arms in the air as you stretched. Working the muscles a bit so they would be less tense. You had been trying to not think about that. Becoming a stray wasn’t something you would want to happen, after all it wasn’t like you wanted to be basically alone for the rest of eternity. Which is what would happen if you were cast out, you definitely weren’t going to join a different coven. It’d feel wrong.

“Well, what’s...what’s the deciding factor? I, well none of us really know all that much about how Vampires work, well besides the basics. And...how to kill you.” That was fair, you barely knew about werewolf living. Deciding to lighten the mood a bit, a grin made its way onto your face.

“Alright, I’ll tell you that if you tell me why all of you look about the same age. It’s...actually kinda weird.” You knew that Werewolves weren’t immortal like Vampires, but something about how everyone in this house looked the same age was a bit off putting. It wasn’t huge, but it was strange, you figured that packs would have like older wiser wolves, like your Coven’s with the Venture, not just a bunch of people in their 20s. 

A brief moment of realization hit you, causing your eyes to widen as your thoughts raced. If you were Wonwoo’s mate and he was...only 20. That was, understandably, a bit weird. You were well over a century old, and if he was 20 you were old enough to literally be one of his great great great grandmother. That had to be creepy.

Apparently you had been broadcasting your thought process across your face, cause once again that familiar deep toned laugh spread through the room and causing a rather strange chill to tingle down your spine. It wasn’t a bad chill, just unexpected. Masking that feeling with an irritated scowl, you grabbed your pillow and hurled it at his head. Catching it, he placed it on the bed next to him before speaking up again.

“That actually has to do with our mates. We stop aging when we turn 20 until we find out mate. Well, find and actually uh…’mate’ with the mate.”

“So you won’t age unless we have sex?” You questioned, not bothering to tiptoe around the subject. “Wait...wait a damn minute. You won’t age unless we have sex? How old are you then?”

He paused for a moment, taking a minute as he seemed to be thinking about his own age. Which honestly was something you could relate to. After so many years alive, they kind of just start blurring together.

“I’m going to be 93 this year.” The relief you felt at those words had you letting out an audible sigh. At least you weren’t some creepy old woman compared to him, that would have just been weird if he had actually been 20. Well, to you it would have been. You knew others, mainly Soonyoung, would disagree. Though he definitely wasn’t the best example, considering he still considered himself to be 24 despite being 132.

Realizing that you had once again become lost in your own mind, you turned your attention back to Wonwoo and noticed that he was staring at you. The look in his eyes caught you off guard, it was almost as if you had just hung the stars in front of him with how intent his gaze was. It seemed that now with this mate business out in the open, he didn’t feel the need to hide anything. It didn’t make you uncomfortable, and in fact you wouldn’t mind seeing that look more often. Letting out a small cough to focus yourself once more, you decided to hold up your end of the exchange.

“So, technically all the major decisions in the Coven are made by the Inner Circle. Which includes our Venture, Soonyoung, the Primus, Junhui, as well as two of the other members, Minghao and Chan.” You began, unfortunately Vampire politics was extremely annoying to deal with at times, which is why you weren’t going to go into what a Venture or Primus was unless he asked. Thinking about it, you honestly didn’t know how Minghao put up with it all, he seemed to hate it almost as much as you did.. “I’ve technically got one vote in my favor, and probably one against me, but i’m not too sure how Chan and Soonyoung will react so it’s all up in the air.” 

You were pretty sure that Minghao was still on your side, at least you hoped he was. Despite his neck being on the line too, you knew that he wasn’t the type of person to throw others aside, he was loyal if nothing else. You could say the same for Junhui, but he had been pretty upset though, and if Junhui was upset then Soonyoung would probably listen to him and if that happened then you knew Chan would as well. So basically it all would depend on how Junhui reacted to you...walking out after yelling at him...and basically inviting him to kick you out. 

So you definitely hadn’t done yourself any favors. 

You hadn’t realized that Wonwoo had gotten up until you felt the bed shift a bit as he took a seat next to you, his hand reaching for yours and the instant comfort you felt at that contact was almost ridiculous. A thought passed through your mind, wondering if the feelings that were rushing through your brain were simply from this mate thing between the two of you...or if they were real. That would be a question for another day though. 

“I’m sure everything is gonna turn out fine. You gotta trust them a little, Covens are kind of like families right? Just like our pack. So i’m sure they’re going to look out for you too.” You weren’t sure if he knew how much those words meant, and you certainly weren’t going to tell him. After all, you had to keep at least some of your tough image. Though...around him you could probably drop it...just a little bit.

You felt yourself subconsciously scoot closer to him and without even thinking about it you found your head resting on his bare shoulder. He tensed at the added weight but soon the hand holding yours had adjusted to where it wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you closer. You weren’t sure if the Mate thing had anything to do with how you were feeling, but you weren’t about to move now.

“I’m sure you’re right.” 

You weren’t sure how much time passed, the two of your just sitting there in silence. But it wasn’t long enough.

The door to the room practically slammed open and you felt your body push itself as far away from Wonwoo as you could. Going so far as to even shove him away as well. Eyes snapping to the door you were greeted by Mingyu, who’s grin could only be described as ‘shit-eating’. He really did have a punchable face, and he was only proving it more. 

“Cheol wants you guys to come to breakfast.” He said, obviously holding back laughter as he looked between the two of you. If looks could kill, you were sure that Mingyu would have been dead twice over just from the look Wonwoo was giving him. More than that if you were being counted in the equation. 

You groaned as you watched Mingyu close the door, making over exaggerated kissing noises, followed by the sound of footsteps and him yelling something to the other wolves. Which you could assume was related to what he just walked in on. Meeting him for the first time, you were already wondering how someone like Wonwoo could handle being his roommate. 

“Is he always like this?”

“I love him, and he is my best friend...but yes, yes he is.” 

***

You were pretty sure you were only here so Seungcheol could keep an eye on you. It’s not like you were eating or anything, and the only reason you had a seat was because Sana was still bed ridden. It seemed that some people weren’t taking too kindly to you intruding on their breakfast, and the atmosphere had gotten so tense since you arrived. So it was going about as well as you had expected it to. 

A few of the pack, mainly Wonwoo, Vernon, Jacob and Felix, did try their best to seem welcoming but everyone else present was definitely more on edge with you around. Especially Changbin, and if you were being honest his constant glaring was starting to get a bit annoying. First he complained about having to keep the curtains closed while you were around, then it was he didn’t want to sit across from you at the table, and now it was a completely different story.

“Why does she have to sit in here? It’s not like she’s going to eat anything.” 

You felt your eye twitch ever so slightly, your jaw clenching in irritation. It was harder to fight your more stubborn and temperamental nature, but you were playing nice so attacking him (even verbally) would probably put you on thin ice. Despite knowing this, you weren’t one to sit back and get verbally harassed.

“She’s a guest, we’re not just going to make her hang out around the house alone.” Which was definitely Seungcheol’s code for, ‘she’s technically still an enemy so we don’t want to give her free range of the house’. It didn’t take a lot to read that guy, he was a good leader or Alpha as they called it, but he was an open book. 

Changbin scoffed, shoving another serving of rice into his mouth before he did. To his left Felix let out a small sigh, obviously wishing the other male was in a better mood. The male across from you, the taller stone faced one who you were fairly certain was named Hyunwoo, spoke up.

“Have you heard anything from the human? Or your coven?” 

His question had you shaking your head, but you did pull your phone out to check once more just in case someone had messaged you during, what you were calling, the worst breakfast...ever. You weren’t surprised to find a plethora of messages from Hyunjin, asking where you were and over all just kind of freaking out, there were also several from Siyeon, Kevin and Yuna, and even a few from Gahyeon and Eunbi. None from Minhyuk or any of the inner circle though. Which was what you expected. The inner circle was probably trying to decide what to do with you and well, Minhyuk likes hearing about the drama from a distance.

“Nothing from the Inner Circle, no. I am planning on checking in with Minah around noon, and if she agrees to the plan then I’ll go grab her from the bar and bring her back here.”

“And how are you planning on doing that? It’s not like you can go outside before dark and get her. And your whole plan is useless if the stray sees the two of you together. Or did you not think of that?” Once again Changbin decided to speak up, gracing your nerves with tiny spikes of irritation. “Or is there even really a stray in the first place! I still don’t believe you’re telling us the truth. You were probably just a distraction so one of your other disgusting friends could attack Sana.”

If you cared less about your phone, you probably would have broken it with how hard you were squeezing the device, but thankfully you knew self control. Or at least you pretended like you did. It seemed though, that Changbin was just determined to push your buttons, and you’d had enough.

“You know, I didn’t take this shit from my Coven, and let me tell you, i’m not going to be taking it from you.” You began, trying to cool your expression as you stared at the male at the other end of the table. You heard Wonwoo sigh from next to you, of course since he knew you the best he probably saw this snap coming. “Kiddo, you can hate me all you damn well want, but I want you to remember that I’m here to help you. So I’m gonna need you to back off.”

A loud slam sounded through the room as Changbin’s palms met with the hardwood of the dining table. A low growl slipped from his throat as he glared at you, obviously about to jump across the table to make this more of a physical confrontation. Silence fell over the room as his harsh gaze met your stoic one, sure you were pissed but this wasn’t the place to 100% lose your cool. From your side you heard a small growl leave Wonwoo as well, it was almost sweet that he felt the need to defend you, but you certainly didn’t need it. 

“You think throwing a tantrum like this is gonna make me leave?” You questioned, a brow raised as you stared down the male who you assumed was younger than you. “It’s not gonna work, I am the Queen of tantrums and loud outbursts and let me tell you now, you don’t scare me.” It was definitely stupid to edge him on like that, especially since you were a guest. You’d probably come to regret it later but for now you were going to show that you weren’t someone that just got walked over. He would understand that.

For a moment you wondered when you started sounding like Minghao, maybe his general attitude was affecting you after all this time. It was amusing to think about, if this was how he and the others felt whenever you acted out. You’d have to question them...well if things worked out in your favor that is. 

The air was thick with tension as the sound of a chair scraping against the linoleum cut through the silence.

“Changbin, sit down and finish your breakfast then go and get ready for your classes. ” It wasn’t too surprising to see Seungcheol standing from his seat at the end of the table. He was almost like a father, vaguely you wondered how old he was, it was impossible to tell just by looking at him. His eyes then found themselves looking directly at you. “And you, come with me.” 

Would it be safe to say you were in the doghouse now? 

Sliding your chair back, you felt something grab your wrist. Looking down you noticed it was of course Wonwoo, staring up at you with concern. Concern that you brushed off. Sure you had probably just pissed off the leader of the group that was housing you, and he could easily attack you or resend his invitation to the home which would end up hurling you outside into the unforgiving and burning sun, but that was too negative to think about at the moment even for you.

Despite your attempt at being nonchalant, Wonwoo gently tugged you closer to him so that his lips ended up right next to your ear.

“If you need me, just call.” the words caused you to chuckle slightly.

“You’re sweet, but I’ll be fine.” Was all you said in return, pulling away from him and following Seungcheol out the double doors of the dining room, to the right down the hallway and into what looked like a living room. 

Once inside, you heard a sigh escape from the male as he took a seat onto one the weathered arm chairs. He gestured vaguely for you to join him and sit down. Taking the free chair on the far left of the room, it was a pretty comfortable chair. You definitely weren’t thinking about taking it with you or anything though. Glancing back over at Seungcheol, you watched as he lifted a hand to rub the bridge of his nose. 

“You’re really not making this any easier for any of us.” 

“Excuse me, for not just sitting around and taking shit from someone who is probably half my age. If not younger. ” You retorted, rolling your eyes. You could tell from watching Seungcheol that he was a good leader, probably better than Soonyoung (though with Soonyoung gone all the time, the bar wasn’t super high to begin with) but leadership can definitely take it’s toll. 

“That’s the point. Changbin is only 33. He’s still technically a kid by our standards and he’s a little rough around the edges but…” he trailed off, you could see that he didn’t really want to talk about this. It probably didn’t help that you were a complete stranger. “The point is, even if he attacks first. If you fight back I have to be on his side.”

“That sounds like something a shitty leader would say.” The words slipped from your lips before you could even think of stopping them. You could tell that Seungcheol was taken back by them almost as much as you were. “I mean, should a leader be willing to tell their people when they’re in the wrong? I’m trying to play nice here for the sake of both of our groups, but I’m not just gonna let him talk shit to my face. Fixing things is a two way road, I can’t do this if he’s unwilling to even look at me without the intent to rip my throat out.”

“I understand but-”

“No, I really don’t think you do. I’m sticking my neck out to help you guys. I might lose my place in my Coven, my family, because I’m here. I’m not gonna do that, and get trash talked by a fucking kid.” The anger from the dining room, the fear from your current situation, everything seemed to be finally reaching a head. Your limbs shook lightly as you stared him down, not with an intent to fight, but with all of the emotions you were currently feeling. 

He lifted a hand, stopping you from continuing. The room filled with silence once more as he seemed to contemplate your words. After a moment, he nodded solemnly.

“You’re right. I guess we’re all trying to work on ourselves during this. If we do go through with the mission tonight, Changbin will stay home. I think it’ll be best for everyone that way.” 

Before you could respond, the loud tone of your phone rang through the room, signaling a phone call. Seungcheol gestured for you to answer it, which you were going to do with or without his permission. 

The caller ID was definitely not a name you were expecting to see. 

Soonyoung.

[dontcare77ghj]

Family

Tony x reader x Clint

Thank you @rvgrsbrns for the pairing ideas.

When Nick Fury had approached you about joining his super-secret boy band, you never expected it to turn out this way. With you in a long term relationship with the archer who never missed and Iron Man.

You had been alive for a thousand years and been with many people, but you'd never let yourself feel this way for any of them. This was mostly in fear. Fear of what your brother would do if he caught you having a relationship.

Klaus had always been overprotective. You were his little sister, and he loved you, but after being changed he'd refused to allow you or your siblings to have relationships.

He played it off as not wanting anyone to have roots that could lead to your father finding and murdering them. But, you knew the truth. Klaus was scared if any of you found love, you would leave him alone for eternity.

After your brother had daggered the rest of your family, you ran. You refused to be locked in a coffin at the whim of your brother.

You'd made it to New York after Klaus daggered Rebekah. You'd met Nick in 1986. You'd been working with Peggy Carter for a few years when you'd met the man and you quickly became close with him.

You hadn't left New York since you'd run and it just made it easy for Nick to recruit you in 2012.

It was almost two years later when you found yourself dating both Clint Barton and Tony Stark. 

Of course, everyone on the team knew each other. You'd all read the files when you became a team but after working and living together for two years, you'd grown closer. You were a family.

So, it made sense they all knew about you. Everything about your past, and your family.

It didn't scare the team, and it certainly didn't scare your boys.

"Morning," Clint whispered as you opened your eyes. 

"Too early." You whined, pressing your face into Clint's chest. "Turn the sun off."

"Can't do that sunshine," Clint said, smirk clear in his voice, before pressing his lips to your head. "You'll just have to get over it."

"Rude." You grumbled, rolling over so you were straddling the man's hips. "I thought you loved me." You cocked your head.

"I do love you." He hummed, resting his hands on your hips. "Just can't get rid of the sun. We need it to survive."

"Not this one," Tony mumbled, rolling over to face you. "Sun will burn her alive." He smirked, pinching your side.

"Better than sparkling." Clint smiled as you rolled your eyes. 

"If any vampire ever sparkles, I'll end them myself. Bloody disgrace to the species." You grumbled before letting out a short squeal as Tony pulled you onto his lap.

"I ever tell you I love that accent?" Tony questioned you, trailing his lips down your throat.

"A couple times." You breathed. "I think you even put it in your speech last night." You added, wrapping a hand around his neck as your other reached out for Clint. The ring adorning your finger sparkling in the morning light.

"He did." Clint agreed. "Right before the joke about you being dead which is fine because normally marriage kills people anyway."

"Am I wrong?" Tony asked, smiling at the man. "Come here, bird," Tony said, pulling him by the hand before kissing his male fiance.

"I think we should stay here a little while longer." You said, pressing your face into Tony's neck. "We have a lot of celebrating to do."

"I love the way you think," Clint said after pulling away from Tony. "Love it." He repeated before kissing you.

"Who's your friend, Natasha?" You asked hours later as the three of you entered the kitchen.

"Well, she's not my friend. I came in this morning, she appeared out of nowhere, I shot her, it went right through her and now your fridge has a hole in it. Sorry, Stark."  Natasha shrugged, staring at the blonde seated at the counter.

"Alright witch, you got three seconds to admit why you're here or I'm going to find you and drink you dry." You threatened, flashing in front of her.

"You have Klaus's mentality." The woman smiled.

"Look if Klaus has pissed you off, don't bring me into it. I haven't seen him in decades. Whatever he's done is his own fault." You glared at the woman.

"Klaus pisses everyone off, myself included, but I'm not here for revenge."

"Then why are you here?" Natasha asked, playing with the gun in her hands.

"Y/N is the only sibling I haven't met yet." The woman stated. “And Klaus asked me to find you.”

"Yeah pulling the family cards not going to work, love. You're not Rebekah." You rolled your eyes. "Tony remind me to call my witch later, I think I'm going to find her real form and drain her dry."

"I'm Freya." The woman introduced herself. "Klaus asked me to find you. He wants to talk."

"Freya died. Years before I was even a thought. You're going to suffer when I find you." You snapped.

"And you have Elijah's loyalty." 'Freya' mused. "I can't convince you that we’re family but you should believe me. Klaus wants to see you.I hope to meet you in person one day." She said before disappearing into thin air.

"She's going to choke on her blood." You growled. "If she breathes a word of my location to Klaus, I'm going to end her line."

"Babe, calm down," Clint soothed, moving forward and rubbing your arms. "Your fangs are showing."

"Clint, you don't understand. If my brother comes here, you and Tony are dead. He'll kill both of you and make me watch." You panicked. 

"He won't kill us," Tony said, standing behind Clint.

"He's done it before. I've watched him kill any man I've ever cared for. I can't let him kill you." You shook your head. 

"You said you had a witch cloak you, right?" Natasha asked. "And it's kept you from Klaus for this long?" She continued once you nodded. "Then you shouldn't worry."

"Nat's right. Your witch's spell has kept you safe for this long, it should hold up." Clint said, pressing a kiss to your head.

"Yeah, it should. You're right." You nodded and smiled weakly at him.

"Good. Now that's out of the way, show me this ring." Natasha said, pushing Clint and Tony to the side. "Damn Stark, you did well." Natasha complimented him.

"Always do, Rushman."

As your family began to move about their day as if your supposed dead sister hadn't just projected herself into your kitchen, you felt a bubble of panic begin to brew in your chest.

What if Klaus did find you? What would that mean for your fiances?

Whatever happened, if Klaus did or didn't find you, you'd fight for your team. You'd fight for Clint and Tony.

"I want you two to start drinking my blood." You blurted out that night.

"I thought we already did?" Clint asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Before big missions you do." You nodded as Tony sat next to you. "But I want you both to start drinking it daily."

"Is this about Klaus?" Tony questioned you. 

"Yes." You said, looking away from the two men. "But it's also so the two of you have a choice. If something happens, not even just Klaus, but if something happens and either of you dies, you'll at least come back and get to make that choice." You explained.

"Will this let you sleep tonight, and not stay up on watch all night?" Clint asked, sitting in front of you.

Slowly you nodded.

"Then I'll gladly drink your blood." Clint smiled, taking your hand in his. You smiled at the archer in thanks.

"Tony?" You asked, turning to him.

"I'll take any opportunity to kiss your neck," Tony smirked. "If it makes you feel better, of course, I'll do it. Plus there's something sexy about being a vampire."

"You can never take things seriously can you?" You rolled your eyes fondly.

"Nope!" Tony popped the p. "Now open that neck up. You're hoarding the red stuff." He said, pulling you into his lap.

"I love you two, you know that right?" You asked, using a fingernail to open your neck up.

"We know and we love you too," Clint said, leaning over to kiss you.

"We also know that you're a worrywart," Tony added, pulling away from your neck. "Which you need to get a handle on, you're going to give yourself wrinkles." He teased you, blood staining his lips.

"I'll work on it." You chuckled as he went back to your neck.

"Now you're hoarding the red stuff, Tony," Clint whined.

"Oh no, where are my manners?" Tony asked, pulling away. "Come here, bird." Clint shifted so he was right behind you, his mouth next to Tony's on your neck.

"Oh, I'm going to regret this aren't I?" You moaned as the two kissed over your shoulder.

"Probably." Clint agreed.

"Most definitely." Tony nodded.

It had been a week since 'Freya' appeared in the tower. The rest of the team had been made aware to keep their eyes out for anything strange but so far everything seemed fine.

"Mr. Stark, there are people at the front gate." F.R.I.D.A.Y. announced.

"Bring up the live feed," Tony said, sipping his coffee. F.R.I.D.A.Y. wordlessly brought up the live feed and your heart dropped.

"Sweetheart, you okay?" Clint asked, taking note of your pale face. You didn't respond before you flashed downstairs.

"Leave Klaus." You demanded, standing in the doorway. "You're not welcome here."

"Sister is that any way to greet your brother?" Klaus smirked. "Your own flesh and blood?"

"Leave Klaus, I won't have you ruining my life again." You shook your head.

"Bit dramatic. I'm not here to ruin anything but if you don't invite me in, I might have to go on a spree." He told you. 

"I won't join our siblings in a coffin, Niklaus. I have stayed out of your way and supernatural business for decades. Go home, Klaus." You told him.

"I've changed, Y/N." He said as you turned away. "For the better."

"Changed." You scoffed. "You just threatened to go on a killing spree. You haven't changed. You've said it before, Nik." You shook your head. "I have a job, a family, here. I won't get daggered because I was naive enough to believe your lies."

"I'm dying, Y/N," Klaus said.

"You're an original. A hybrid. Nothing can kill you." You said.

"Please just let me in," Klaus begged you. Your brother had never begged for anything in his life. "I'll explain it all."

"Nik, I don't think I can trust you."

"Please, Y/N. We're family. Always and forever. You promised. A thousand years ago you promised."

"Come in, Niklaus," Tony said, appearing behind you. 

"Tony!" You snapped as Klaus walked forward.

"Thank you, Stark," Klaus smirked, entering the building. "Where should we talk, sister?"

"Come to the living room. Just know there are vervain and wolfsbane laced bullets waiting if you try anything." Tony said, taking your hand and leading the way.

"Of course. Y/N's idea I believe?" Klaus chuckled as he trailed behind you both. 

"Tony, what are you doing?" You whispered. 

"Trust me." He soothed, squeezing your hand. "You need this and you know it."

The three of you entered the common room to see only Clint had remained sitting.

"Talk." You demanded once he and Tony sat. You remained standing. "And quickly."

"Impatient as ever little sister." He said, leaning back in his seat. "I'm dying."

"We've established. How?" You gritted out.

"The Hollow. It's a witches curse. She infected my daughter, almost killed her, but I absorbed it. Now it's killing me from the inside out."

"You have a daughter? You're a vampire."

"And a wolf." Klaus pointed out. "Nature found a way for me to produce more hybrids naturally. Her name is Hope."

"Can you be cured?" You asked, worry for your older brother setting in.

"No." Klaus shook his head. "I just came to bury the hatchet and to tell you our siblings are in New Orleans."

"You undaggered them?" You asked, putting a hand on the couch and leaning against it. Tony threw his arm around the back of the couch and subtly held your hand.

"Every last one. I told you, I've changed, Y/N. I just wanted to see you before I died. Just once." He said.

"Damn it, Nick." You cursed, racing forward and throwing your arms around your brother. "You can't die, Nick. You're my big brother, you said you'd always be around. You promised." You whispered, tears burning the corners of your eyes.

"I know. I'm sorry, N/N." He responded, running his fingers through your hair. "I'll still be with you, I'll watch over you. Always and forever. I love you." He murmured before placing his hands on your neck and twisting it.

Non-reader POV

The second Clint and Tony heard the telltale snap of Y/N's neck, both jumped to their feet. Tony's Iron Man suit was already forming and Clint grabbed a gun from under the table.

"Relax gentlemen I mean no harm," Klaus said, raising a free hand.

"You have a funny definition of it. You just snapped Y/N's neck." Clint snapped, unclicking the safety.

"And she will wake," Klaus assured the men, placing Y/N on the couch behind him. "My sister is not good at goodbyes and it will be better for her to wake with me gone. It is a kindness."

"You snapped her neck because you don't want to see her cry?" Tony scoffed.

"Partially. But I do want to talk to the two of you without her interfering." He said, turning back to them.  "A blind man could see the way the three of you feel for each other. Fortunately for me, though my strength and powers are fading, I can still see. And I can see the rock on her finger."

Clint looked over in worry to Tony who remained staring down the blonde.

"If this had happened a century ago, I would have killed you." Klaus nodded. "I can smell her scent all over you and I know she feeds you her blood. I would have killed you both twice."

"If this is supposed to make us feel safer, you're going the wrong way about it," Tony told the hybrid.

"The point is, I’m not going to kill either of you. It’s highly unlikely for Y/N to return to our siblings, especially once I pass, but I just want her taken care of. Considering your engagement, you are a part of my family. As a favor to me I want you to take care of her.”

“We’ve been taking care of her for years.” Clint nodded.

Niklaus did not say anything as he nodded at the men. A second later he had disappeared.

Reader POV

With a gasp you awoke and jolted upright on the bed.

“Good morning, sleepy head.” Clint whispered from your side. Looking to your side you could see Clint looking at you wide awake and Tony asleep behind him.

“Clint, where’s Nik?” You asked as he took your hand.

“He left after he snapped your neck.” He told you. 

“Did he hurt anyone? Did he hurt either of you?” You asked, squeezing his hand. 

“No. He didn’t touch anyone.” Clint assured you, pulling you back down.

“I’ve hated him for so long.” You whispered into Clint’s neck. “And now he’s dying and I don’t know what to do.”

“You can’t do anything.” Clint said, trailing his fingers down your spine. “But at least he knows you still love him.”

“I feel like Steve.” You sighed. “Waiting too long only to lose people.”

“You didn’t wait for us.” Tony said, sitting up. “And you’re a lot better looking than capsicle.”

“Don’t be mean to Steve.” You smiled at the man. “Now that you’ve met my brother, has he scared you off?” You asked.

“Honey, you grow fangs and drink blood. I don’t think anything could scare us off.” Clint laughed.

“Maybe if you grew a second head, I’d think about being scared off.” Tony mused.

“You can be an ass when you want to.” You smiled, reaching across Clint to grab Tony’s hand.

“You love me.”

“I do.” You smiled.

“So, me and Tony had a conversation while you were knocked out.” Clint started.

“Dead.” Tony interrupted. “Well, deader than normal.”

“Tomorrow, we think we should properly discuss the possibility of you turning us.” Clint continued, smiling at Tony’s comment.

“Seriously?” You asked, sitting up in bed. “Do you understand what that means? You won’t ever die. You’ll have to watch as friends do and you stay the same. Are you ready for that?”

“Darling, we’re in this for the long haul.” Tony assured you.

Sitting up you leaned down to kiss Clint deeply before doing the same to your other partner.

“I love you both so much right now.” You smiled widely.

“We can talk about this more tomorrow.” Clint said, pulling you back to his chest. “Go back to sleep, honey.”

You smiled as you relaxed onto Clint’s chest. This tower was your safe place. This tower was inhabited by all your friends. Your family. Clint and Tony were here and that was enough for you.

Tomorrow you’d discuss the potential chance of Tony and Clint becoming like you. And tomorrow you’d make plans to visit New Orleans.

But you didn’t need to think about any of that now. Because now you were in your men’s arms and for now, everything was okay. Or it was going to be.

Taglist

@rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx @hopingforbarnes @starlingelliot @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @jelly-fishy-babie @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @reann-loves-sebstan @skadikh

Coming soon

Dean x reader x Cas

Bucky x reader x Natasha

Meg x reader x Cas

Wanda x reader x Vision

Steve x reader x Bucky x Peggy

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, ravenclawkward-art!

For @ravenclawkward-art. Happy Christmas! I hope you enjoy!!

Read On AO3

*****

Derek catches the first hint of the scent as he fits the key into the lock. Traces of vanilla, cinnamon and the earthy tang of petrichor hang in the air— it’s a scent he’s become thoroughly acquainted with over the last few years.

He pushes open the front door, prompting the scent to waft through and envelope him like a warm hug.

“How did you get in?” He asks, not even looking at the figure sprawled across his couch. Moving through to the kitchen, Derek sets down his paper bag of groceries. “Actually, how did you get here?” He asks, turning. He hadn’t seen the Jeep on his way in.

“Oh, you know.” Stiles wanders in after him, hopping up onto the counter beside the fridge. “Magic.” He punctuates the word with jazz hands.

Derek huffs fondly, rolling his eyes and reaching for the milk. “Don’t you have friends you can annoy instead?”

“Good try big guy,” Stiles teases, helping Derek by handing him things out of the bag. “I’m here for the pack meeting.”

“You’re three hours early.”

“I’m super punctual.” Stiles swings his legs, knocking his heels into the cupboard door beneath him. “Oh.” His legs still suddenly and he drops down from the counter. “You got mail.” He disappears out of the room for a minute, returning with a letter, still talking. “Like, who even sends mail anymore? I swear werewolves live in the stone ages.”

Derek snatches the envelope Stiles is waving in his face, tearing it open to scan the letter inside.

“It’s the Robertson pack.”

“The who pack?” Stiles peers at the letter over Derek’s shoulder, trying to read along. Saving him the effort, Derek passes it over when he’s done.

“The Robertson pack took me and Laura in after the fire,” Derek explains, moving to lean against the bench. “Their Alpha, Sarah, knew my mom when they were young.”

“Why didn’t you stay with them?” Stiles asks, folding up the letter. “You and Laura lived in New York on your own. Wouldn’t it have been better to stay with another pack?”

Derek shakes his head. “I wanted to, but- Laura had just become Alpha. It made things difficult. So, we left. We kept in touch for a while, but after coming back here, after Laura’s death and everything that happened with Peter… we just lost touch.”

“Until now?” Stiles hands back the letter. “They’re asking permission to enter the territory.”

Nodding, Derek takes it, unfolding and refolding the paper carefully in his hands. “I’ve never hosted another pack before. Mom did it a couple of times.”

“What does it involve?”

“It varies depending on the pack. We would offer them a place to stay and a meal. The Robertson are old family friends so it will probably be a little more informal. More like… what does your dad do when extended family comes around?”

“He hides the good whiskey,” Stiles jokes. “But seriously, this is awesome and, as your emissary, I can help you plan.”

With a roll of his eyes, Derek turns from the kitchen. “You’re not my emissary.”

“Why not?” Stiles whines, trailing behind the werewolf. “I’d be so good at it.”

“At planning or being my emissary?”

“Por qué no los dos?” Stiles says it with an exaggerated wink, dropping back down onto the couch.

***

By six pm the rest of the pack have arrived, and the house is full of loud voices, lively conversation and laughter.

It’s taken a long time to reach this point—a point where the pack trust Derek as their Alpha, and each other. A point where a pack get together feels like… family.

Looking around the room, something swells in Derek’s chest at the sight of Kira and her swollen belly. Sandwiched between Stiles and Erica on the couch, she’s guiding their hands to feel the baby’s kicking.

His gaze flicks across Stiles, laughing at something Erica says, his head thrown back exposing the long line of his neck. A lot of this was Stiles’ doing.

Stiles was the one who had instituted pack night. He’d called it compulsory fun night. He’d begged and bullied every single one of them into gathering at the site of the old Hale house and had turned up with Lacrosse sticks and movies. He’d forced Derek to use his words when he was feeling frustrated and encouraged communication with the pack.

Derek had wanted nothing more than for the pack to bond together properly, so he had done as Stiles told him and in doing so, he’d built his confidence as an Alpha.

Stiles looks up suddenly, catching Derek’s eye from across the room, and winks, before turning back to Kira without even breaking from their conversation. Derek feels his face flush and ducks back into the kitchen to finish cooking.

This was something Derek had initiated. Everyone takes a turn providing for the pack, whether it’s a home cooked meal or take out.

Derek’s made tacos. He sets out meat and salsa and guacamole on the counter so that everyone can serve themselves and starts building his own before the literal wolves descend.

It becomes a free for all after that. Derek snatches his plate and his beer and escapes to the living room. The rest of the pack follow suit, finding places to perch and eat. The house has a more formal dining room, but they really only eat in there on special occasions, preferring to sprawl out in front of the TV.

“Hey.” Stiles drops down onto the couch beside Derek, almost toppling his tacos off his plate. He rescues one, jamming it onto his mouth and crunching down. “So, I spoke to Lydia and she said she can help with planning this pack get together thing.” He continues to talk around another mouthful of food, and it should be gross, but it’s just so Stiles.

“Uh huh.” Derek rescues Stiles’ beer before he sends it flying. “So, if Lydia’s in charge I guess should I be pulling out the tux?”

With a snort, Stiles retrieves his drink and drains the bottle. “You own a tuxedo? I don’t believe you have ever worn a suit in your life.”

“Hey, I have hidden depths,” Derek counters. “I could own a tux.”

“I’d like to see that.” Stiles smirks and brings his beer back to his lips, seemingly forgetting that the bottle is empty. He lowers it quickly, face flushing—though, maybe that’s just the glow from the TV.  Derek tries not to dwell on it.

Sometime around midnight the pack start to either filter out or upstairs. The house is big enough for everyone to stay over if need be, Derek made sure of that when building it, but he’s the only one who lives there full time—most of the pack have houses closer to town.

Derek doesn’t mind that they’re all spread out. There’s always someone over at any given time—usually Stiles. Speaking of, Stiles is sprawled out on the couch, snoring gently.

“Hey.” Derek wakes the spark gently. “You want to crash here?”

Stiles stretches on the couch, his shirt riding up to reveal the pale skin of his stomach. “Wha’ time izzit?”

“Almost one.”

“Oh.” Stiles sits up slowly, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Yeah, thanks.” He shuffles off towards the downstairs bathroom and Derek finishes unpacking the dishwasher. “Can I borrow a sweater?” He asks when he returns, his hands wrapped around his body to ward off the chill in the air. It’s two weeks until Christmas and winter has finally settled across Beacon Hills.

“Sure, come on.” Derek puts the last plate away and leaves the kitchen, heading to his bedroom. Stiles follows him upstairs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed while Derek digs through his drawers. “Here.”

Stiles takes the sweater and shrugs it on over his head. They’re the same height, but Stiles is not as broad as Derek so the sweater hangs, just a little, on his lanky frame. He paws his hands up in the sleeves and flops back onto the bed.

“I’m so tired,” he whines.

“Then go find your bed,” Derek tells him, nudging Stiles to move. “This one’s mine.”

“Can’t move. Too sleepy.”

“Stiles.”

“Can’t hear you. I’m already asleep.”

With a quick shove, Derek sends Stiles tumbling to the floor.

“Rude.” Picking himself up off the floor, Stiles sticks his tongue out at Derek and trots off to his room.

***

Three days later the whole pack gathers at Derek’s house.

Lydia, as always, has outdone herself with the spread. There is enough food and meat to feed a small army and she has the wolves all rotating through shifts on the spit. The rest of the pack are put to work moving tables and chairs out onto the wide green lawn.

Up on the porch, Isaac has set up speakers to play music while they work.

“One of the wards just triggered,” Stiles says, grinning as he sets down his armload of plates and cutlery. “Must be them.”

Twenty minutes later Boyd is the first to cock his head to catch the faint rumble of a car turning on to the winding track that leads up to the house. By the time their visitors pull up onto the grass, everyone (bar Scott and Jackson on spit duty) is gathered around on the porch.

“Alpha Robertson,” Derek greets walking up to the newly arrived group.

“Alpha Hale.” The werewolf’s mouth ticks up in a smile. “It’s good to see you Derek. It’s been too long.”

“It has.” Derek returns the smile. “Sarah, this is my pack,” he says, turning and gesturing to the curious faces lining the porch. He almost knocks his hands into Stiles, who is hovering a half-step behind him.”

“Stiles Stilinski,” he says pushing forward, arm outstretched in greeting. “Pack emissary.”

Derek barely restrains rolling his eyes in front of the older Alpha, turning to hide his face under the guise of beckoning forward the rest of the pack. After they’ve made their introductions, Sarah introduces the pack to her husband and three children, Alex, Mark and Lilah.

“So, what brings you out our way?” Stiles asks as they all walk back up to the house.

“My eldest joined the Thomson pack earlier this year,” Sarah explains. “We’re heading up to visit for Christmas.”

“She’s gonna have a baby,” the youngest kid, Alex, offers shyly from behind his mom.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Stiles tells him. “So, you’re going to be an uncle. I’m going to be an uncle soon too,” he says with a conspiratorial whisper and a head nod towards Kira.

“We’re not much for flying,” Sarah continues, “and we thought the trip might be a good opportunity to visit.”

Nodding, Stiles leads the way into the house. “Derek said you were friends with Talia.”

“We’re actually related.” Sarah grins when Stiles skids to an abrupt halt. “Third cousins?”

“Through Dad,” Derek confirms.

“What?” Stiles turns to Derek. “But you said- I thought your dad was human.”

“He was.”

“Huh. Cool.”

They show their visitors to their guest rooms so they can put down their bags and then take them outside.

Dinner is a rowdy affair.

There are fifteen of them crowded around the two long tables that have been dragged onto the grass. Once the younger members of the Robertson pack, namely Alex and his older brother Mark, get over the shyness of meeting strangers it’s every man for himself as the food is laid out.

“So, who’s manning the fort back home?” Stiles asks, leaning across Derek to talk to Sarah.

“Stiles,” Derek warns, nudging the human away from his plate. “You can’t ask that, it’s not polite.”

“Oh, sorry,” Stiles says, looking genuinely apologetic, but then he barrels on anyway. “I didn’t mean anything by it, it’s just this guy here-” he pauses to bat at Derek’s shoulder “-keeps telling me we can’t leave the territory unguarded whenever I try to suggest getting away for a few days.”

“It’s fine,” Sarah is quick to reassure them. “My sister is looking after things while we’re gone. And Derek’s right when it comes to new packs.”

Derek raises his eyebrows at Stiles as if to say, ‘I told you so’ and ducks another playful swipe.

“But you’ve been Alpha for what, seven years now?” She asks. “And Beacon Hills has been Hale Pack territory for, I don’t know, generations, not to mention those wards we passed on the way in.” Sarah points to Stiles. “That was you?”

Stiles nods quickly. “Yep.” He accepts the bowl of baked potatoes from Boyd. “So, what you’re saying is that Derek needs to get out more? ‘Cos that’s what I’m hearing.”

“I’m saying that it’s okay to take a break occasionally.”

Stiles laughs, his knees knocking into Derek’s under the table. “Derek doesn’t know the meaning of the word.”

***

The full moon falls two days after the Robertson’s arrive and Derek invites Sarah and her family to run with them through the preserve.

It’s a Saturday and most of the pack have taken the weekend off, so they spend the day at the pack house, working off the restless energy that comes with a full moon. As the afternoon rolls on the games get rougher and someone digs out the lacrosse sticks.

“Count me in.” Stiles jogs over with Scott and Isaac and snatches up one of the sticks, twirling it in his hands.

“Is that a good idea?” Mark, the middle Robertson child, asks. “A human playing against werewolves?” He looks to Derek, tone dripping with cocky arrogance but Derek just shrugs.

“Oh, to have the confidence of a fifteen-year-old werewolf,” Stiles sighs, scooping up the ball. “I could have used some of that as a teenager.”

“Could have used some of the athleticism too,” Derek quips, knocking Stiles with one shoulder.

“Oh, you can shove it,” Stiles grins stumbling away, still in possession of the ball. “You playing or what kid?”

“Fine,” the young werewolf shrugs. “It’s your funeral.” His eyes flash gold.

“That’s not that impressive,” Stiles tells him. “I can do it too.”

“But you’re not a wolf.”

“So many doubters today.” He closes his eyes for a moment and when they re-open they shine bright with the power of his spark.

“You going to play or just keep showing off?” Boyd asks.

Stiles grins, playfully baring his teeth “Oh, it’s on.”

The moon finally breaches the horizon just after four pm. It’s not yet dark enough to go running through the preserve, but some wolves start shedding clothes and skin, sprouting fur as they shift from two legs to four.

The lacrosse game is forgotten in favour of chasing each other around the clearing.

“Don’t even think about it,” Stiles warns, backing away from Derek. “We will not be playing chase the human tonight.”

Grinning wolfishly, smile wide and full of teeth, Derek makes a big show of slowing kicking his sneakers off.

“I’m not kidding Der, I will end you.”

“Better start running,” Derek teases, pulling his shirt up over his head. From the corner of his eye, he can see the rest of his pack watching with various shades of amusement.

“Fuck you buddy.”

Derek can tell there’s no heat behind the words and Stiles is trying to hold back a smile. He’s bolting off around the house before Derek’s shirt has even hit the ground.

“Go on then,” Stiles says once it’s finally dark enough to enter the preserve. “Pick on Stiles time is over; I need a nap after that.” He sprawls out on his back in the grass, staring up at the sky. It’s a clear, cool night.

Derek stands over him, nosing at Stiles’ hair then swinging his head towards the trees. He takes a half step, waiting for Stiles to follow.

“I think I’m going to hang here with the women and children,” Stiles says, craning his head back. “I’ll just slow you down. You have fun though.” He reaches up to tangle his fingers in Derek’s coarse fur before giving him a gentle shove towards the forest. “Go on.”

With one final glance over his shoulder, Derek trots off into the trees.

***

By the time they return to the house, everyone is exhausted. Derek immediately searches out Stiles as he re-enters the clearing. He’s easy enough to find, sitting by the dying bonfire chatting to Kira. The red glowing embers illuminate their faces and cast deep shadows across the lawn.

Derek pads over to them, drawn to Stiles like a moth to flame, flopping down in the grass beside Stiles.

“Good run?” Stiles asks, slumping back so that he’s half leaning against Derek. The werewolf lets out a soft contented rumble. “Mm, glad to hear it,” Stiles mumbles around a yawn.

“Ugh, it’s late,” Kira complains from where she sits. “I think I’m going to call it a night. I’ll see you boys tomorrow.” She stands with Scott’s help, and waddles back towards the house.

“I think I’m going to call it too.” Stiles pats Derek on the shoulder and stands slowly, taking the time to stretch before heading inside.

Derek waits until he’s inside before he heads off in search of his discarded clothes, still sitting and collecting dew on the grass. He shifts, picking up his sweatpants and shaking them out. He pulls them on and makes his way towards the porch.

“You should be proud of what you’ve created here.” Sarah joins him at the top of the steps. They lean against the porch railing and watch the wolves still sprawled out in the grass after the run. “You’ve built a strong pack. I know Talia would be proud of you.”

Derek ducks his head. There’s a warm feeling in his stomach at the Alpha’s words. “I didn’t think I’d find this again.” He confesses, voice low. “And, for a while I didn’t think deserved it.”

There’s a familiar footfall behind them and the comforting scent of cinnamon and vanilla.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt.” Stiles wanders up beside them. “Can I borrow a sweater?”

“Did you return the last one you ‘borrowed’?” Derek asks.

“Hey,” Stiles leans against him, one arm slung across Derek’s shoulders. “It’s not my fault your clothes are so damn comfy. If you didn’t want me taking them, you should have bought cheaper, scratchier sweaters. Ever think about that Der?”

“Fine,” Derek gives in quickly, waving Stiles off before he can launch into another tirade on the superiority of Derek’s sweaters.

“Thanks.” Stiles trots off, letting his hand trail across Derek’s back.

“You guys are good together,” Sarah says, her voice warm. “You’re lucky to have found a mate like Stiles.”

“Mm,” Derek nods, eyes following Stiles back towards the house. The words sink in and he freezes, mind frantically replaying every interaction he’s had with Stiles over the last few days, wondering how they could have possibly given her that impression.

Stiles is- he’s Stiles. He’s funny and smart and kind and— they’re not mates, no matter how much Derek might wish otherwise.

Still, he doesn’t correct her.

Instead, he makes some mumbled excuse about being tired and escapes to his bedroom.

That, at least, is the truth. It’s been a long night and now the sun is just beginning to peek up over the horizon. Derek feels as though he could sleep for a week as he climbs the stairs to the second level and throws his bedroom door open ready to crawl beneath the covers.

“Stiles.” He nudges the lump half hidden under the covers. “This isn’t your bed.”

The younger man murmurs something unintelligible and rolls onto his side.

With a sigh, Derek pulls back the covers, and climbs into bed.

***

He’s warm when he wakes.

So, very warm.

There’s a line of cinnamon scented heat pressed down the length his chest. Lying there in the soft space between sleep and wakefulness, Derek feels more comfortable that he ever has in his life.

And then the warm body in front of him shifts and Derek is suddenly very aware that Stiles is that warm body. He must have pulled him in to his chest at some point while they slept.

Carefully drawing back the arm that had been casually slung across Stiles’ waist, Derek wiggles back on the bed so that he’s no longer pressed up against his packmate. The sheets are gathered around their waists, hiding Derek’s rather unfortunate issue, but it doesn’t hide the pale expanse of skin where Stiles’ sweater has ridden up over his side.

With a bitten-off sigh Derek rolls out of bed and stumbles across to the bathroom.

He stands, head bowed beneath the spray and lets the pounding water rinse away the dirt and sweat that still clung from the full moon run. He tries not to think about the fact he’s still hard, and lets his mind drift, but his thoughts keep coming back to Stiles, stretched out in Derek’s own bed.

With one hand coming up to brace against the wall, Derek palms himself with the other. He allows a single flash of guilt before letting his thoughts drift back to the bed, to the hollow of Stiles throat. He starts slow, working up to a quick rhythm and biting back a soft moan.

He’s close, the pleasure starting to pool in his gut and Derek increases the pace. His mind wanders to the dip of Stiles’ hips between the ruched-up shirt and the low-slung sleep shorts. His own hips jerk in short aborted thrusts and he comes with a swallowed curse.

After washing away the evidence, Derek cuts the running water and reaches for a towel.

Stiles is still asleep when Derek re-enters the room, so he dresses quickly and slips out the door. The house is quiet, with most wolves having only gone to bed a few hours ago, but there’s a soft clatter of someone moving about downstairs.

“You’re up early,” Derek says, stepping into the kitchen.

Scott stifles a yawn with the back of his hand and gestures to the coffee maker that has just beeped. “The baby is awake,” he mutters, reaching for the pot. “Which means Kira is awake, which means I am awake.” He pours himself a generous serving, filling the mug up to the rim, then passes the pot over. “Why are you up?”

“Sarah thinks Stiles is my mate.” The words come out in a rush.

“Yeah? And?”

“What do you mean ‘and’?”

“I mean…” Scott looks uncertain. “What’s the problem? Was that all she said?”

“She said we’re good together.”

“Okay.”

“Scott.”

“What?” Scott leans back against the counter. “You are! You’re like the pack mom and dad.”

Derek waves him off. “Stiles doesn’t even like me like that!”

Scott scoffs against the rim of his mug. “What are you talking about? Stiles is crazy about you.”

“No, he’s not.”

“Dude, can’t you smell it? He’s like, super aroused around you, like all the time.”

“That’s just Stiles’ scent. He always smells like that.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

Derek’s expression goes blank. “He doesn’t?”

Shaking his head, Scott continues. “It’s only when he’s around you… or talking about you… or thinking about you. It’s super gross.”

“I didn’t know.”

“He’s over here all the time! He’s asleep in your bed right now- don’t give me that look, you reek of Stiles.” Scott refills his mug and moves to pat Derek on the arm. “He likes you man, like, really, really likes you. Honestly, you’d have to be blind not to see it.”

***

The Robertson pack head off the next morning once everyone is well rested. There are fewer people around to see them off— Scott had been called in to an emergency at the vet and Erica had dragged Boyd off to visit her parents.

“It was really good to see you Derek. Please don’t be a stranger.” Derek lets himself be bundled up in a hug before Sarah moves on to say goodbye to the rest of the pack. “Stiles, you make sure to remind that stubborn mate of yours to take a break every now and then.”

Watching from the corner of his eye, Derek can’t quite read Stiles’ facial expression. If he’s surprised, he certainly doesn’t say anything, just returns the Alpha’s hug and cheerfully waves until the car disappears down the driveway.

Once they’re gone, Derek makes his excuses and escapes to his bedroom. Despite Scott’s assurances, he still hasn’t said anything to Stiles.

“We need to talk.”

Derek starts so badly at the voice in his room. “How do you keep getting in?” He asks, turning to face the doorway.

“Magic.”

“Still not funny.”

“Uh, it’s hilarious,” Stiles says, grinning.

“The door was locked Stiles.”

“I know, figured you were either moping about something or jerking off. Decided to take my chances.” He walks into the room, shutting the door behind him and leans against the far wall. “Anyway, you’re dressed, so you probably weren’t jerking off, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You’ve been avoiding me since yesterday, something’s wrong.” He’s still smiling, but Stiles’ scent has turned tart with concern.

“It was nothing, just something Alpha Robertson said.”

“I like her.” Stiles gazes at Derek thoughtfully. He pushes away from the wall and crosses the room to sit on the bed. “She seems like a good Alpha.”

“She is.”

“You’re a good Alpha too.”

Derek smiles, ducking his head. It’s high praise coming from Stiles.

“A little clueless sometimes...”

The smile drops from his face.

“Let me guess.” Stiles leans forward, his arms braced against his knees. “Your current mopey face has something to do with what Sarah said before?”

Derek can’t look at him, he stares at the patterns in the carpet instead.

“The other night, she called us mates and you didn’t correct her.”

Derek’s stomach drops as his head jerks up. “You heard that?”

“It wasn’t exactly whispered. She said it right as I was leaving. Why-” Stiles swallows audibly. “Why didn’t you correct her?”

Letting out the breath he’s been holding, Derek asks, “Why didn’t you?”

He watches Stiles’ face carefully, scrutinising every little expression that flickers across his face in that second, reading the exact moment he makes up his mind with the slight lift of one brow and the uptick at the corners of his mouth.

“I wanted it to be true.”

Derek can only imagine what his own face must look like, caught someplace between shock and joy at Stiles’ words. His grin is probably bordering on manic when he says, “me too.”

“Oh. That’s-” Stiles licks his lips and tries again. “Good. That’s good. I’m, uh-” His gaze flick from Derek’s eyes to his lips. “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Stiles’ hand hooks into the Derek’s shirt, drawing him in. Fingers tangle in his hair and then Stiles’ lips are on his, warm and urgent.

When they pull away from each other Stiles laughs, knocking his knees into Derek’s.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so fucking long.

*Epilogue*

The glare from the window falls right across Derek’s face and he shifts, slowly surfacing from the depths of sleep. He drags his arm up to cover his face, provoking a grunt from the person who’d been using it as a pillow.

Stiles shifts, rolling over to blink up at Derek.

“Morning.”

“Morning.”

Derek throws his arm over Stiles’ hip, dragging him in so their bodies are flush. “You’re in my bed.”

“Nuh uh, it’s my bed now,” Stiles teases sleepily, stealing a quick kiss before tucking his head under Derek’s chin.  “Oh.” He pulls away suddenly and rolls to the edge of the bed, leaning over to rummage around underneath it. Sitting back up, he holds out a present wrapped in brightly coloured paper. “Happy birthday.”

Derek sits up against the pillows and takes the parcel. “Thank you.”

“I got you a Christmas present too,” Stiles says. “But you can’t open it until we get to Dad’s.” He gestures for Derek to unwrap the paper. “It’s not much.”

“It’s perfect.”

[vintagedolan]

genius (egd)

when college goes online, ethan gets to see you put your mind to work, and he realizes that maybe he can’t keep up

word count: 2.7k

warnings/tags: fluff, insecure!ethan, just lots of fluff okay

ps: this is my first imagine on this blog, feel free to send in requests! i’ll write most things! hope you enjoy :) 

When you had to go to campus for school, it just seemed like you were going to work for Ethan. The schedule changed each day because of your classes, but you always managed commuting back and forth well; after all, why live on campus if you could live with him for free. You usually gave yourself a few extra hours around campus - nine times out of ten, your favorite coffee shop - to get your work done. E and Gray respected your need to work on school, but sometimes it was hard to focus if they were filming a video around the house.

But with the switch to quarantine and therefore online school, everything had been turned on its head. And Ethan was acting... different

The biggest change had been your location. As soon as quarantine was beginning to shut down travel, Ethan begged you to come back from California to be with him and his family in New Jersey. 

It had only taken a few “Baby please, I can’t focus if I don’t know when I’m gonna see you next” type of pleas for you to succumb, and with online classes you had no reason not to. But that wasn’t the only change...

Your mornings started per usual - you were trying, no matter how futile, to stay close to your original schedule. When you woke up, you’d roll over into Ethan (if you’d strayed that is, sometimes you woke up wrapped up in his arms) and run your fingers along his cheek. It was always just enough to stir him so you didn’t startle him, but not enough to wake him up fully. Grayson had been nice enough to give the two of you their old room, and you soaked up the privacy while you could. 

“Morning baby,” he would always mumble, pulling you in tightly to his chest for a minute and nuzzling into your hair. You’d be content there for a little while, pressing gentle kisses to his skin until he loosened up a bit and you were able to get free. Then, he would lull back to sleep fully, curling up in the covers when you got up. You’d pull on one of his hoodies, a sports bra and some pants, then head downstairs, laptop in hand.

Since you didn’t have to commute, you gave yourself about an hour more of sleep, which meant you actually got up around the same time as Grayson. Most the time, even he wasn’t up as early as you during normal school back in California. But seeing him in the morning now was actually really nice - you and Gray had bonded so quickly when you met them, and he was instantly like a brother to you. You weren’t sure it would have worked out if you weren’t as close as you were.

Wednesday morning, he was headed out on a run, but was eating his breakfast in the kitchen before he left.

“Morning Y/N,” he smiled, passing you a plate with a piece of avocado toast and some cut up apples that had been sitting on the counter.

“Gray you didn’t need to make me breakfast!” You exclaimed, but your heart warmed at his thoughtfulness. 

“Early bird gets the worm. Besides, isn’t it almost finals week? I know that’s supposed to be hell, might as well get some good fuel in.” He said it casually, but you wanted to cry - it meant so much that he even knew that it was finals week in the first place. 

“Thanks. It really means a lot,” you said, throat a bit tight. 

“Don’t mention it,” he smiled, passing you and ruffling your hair as he headed out the door.

You ate the toast, grateful for something on your stomach as you started looking at the assignments you still had due this week. And as you expected, it was a lot. Lots of studying was a given, but you had a 30 page paper due by Friday, and you’d only made it about a third of the way through. You wanted to knock the rest of it out by the end of the day, but it was going to be hard, with lots of research involved. 

And so you made another trip up to Ethan’s room, snagging your backpack and smiling at his curled up form and quiet snores. With a sigh you left the room again, curling up on the couch by all the tall windows, trying to at least enjoy the view if you had to be stuck by your computer all day. 

Then the real work began. Website after website, journals, textbooks, citations; over and over and over again as you began to chip away at the paper. The world kept moving around you, mostly in the background. Grayson got back from his run, getting a glass of water from the kitchen. Lisa waved her good morning, leaving you to your work and not wanting to interrupt. 

Your attention shifted around 10am, when Ethan made his way out of bed and into the kitchen, wiping the sleep from his eyes. He looked so soft in the morning, and you knew exactly what was coming before it even happened. You moved your laptop backwards, waiting.

Sure enough, he shuffled his way over to the couch, curling up on the cushions and laying his head on your lap, mumbling a bit as he got comfortable. You leaned down to kiss his head, running your fingers across his scalp and feeling him hum at the sensation. He was still tired - he always got up earlier if you weren’t still in bed with him - so it was no surprise that he dozed off again beside you. You simply reached over him, typing away on your computer as best you could. 

If you had it your way, you’d spend the whole day doing nothing with Ethan. You’d be content to lounge out with him, doing nothing. Since the boys had switched from their vigorous schedule, they’d both become so much more relaxed, and it was so nice to enjoy the free time you had. 

But you didn’t get your way. And the paper wasn’t going as easily as you thought it would.

So you wrote. And wrote. And wrote. It was like pulling teeth trying to piece it all together, and it was taking forever. The frustration mounted, and Ethan could tell you were stressed so he let you be, knowing that when you were doing school stuff it was better to just leave you to your devices. 

But come 6pm, he couldn’t take the look on your face anymore.

“Baby. Babe. Y/N.” It took three times to get your attention, but you peeled your eyes away from the screen, looking up at him. He looked sad, but you’d known him long enough to realize that he was worried.

You slid your laptop over to the arm of the couch, signaling that you wanted him to join you for a minute. You hadn’t even noticed he had a cup of tea in his hand, which he sat down on the table for you before he sat down next to you.

“You alright? You’ve been working all day.” His voice was soft, and his skin was cold. You realized suddenly that he smelled like a mixture of pine and saw dust. He’d been outside with Gray. 

“I’m okay. Just stressed out. This paper isn’t as easy as I thought it would be, but I’ve made it this far and I’m gonna finish it today if it kills me,” you explained, rubbing at your eyes. They were sore from staring at your screen for so long. 

“Which translates to ‘I love you but I’m not taking a break no matter what you say’, huh?” Ethan offered you a soft smile. You leaned into his shoulder, nuzzling up for a moment and breathing him in.

“Once I’m done I’m all yours. Promise,” you whispered. 

“That’s not what I’m worried about love. I just don’t want you in here all stressed out. I hate it,” he explained. 

“I’ll be okay,” you reassured him.

“I know, and I know you’ll kill it, like you always do. Doesn’t mean I like seeing you upset. What’s this one about anyways?” He gestured to your screen.

“Spinal cord injuries. It’s a case study about a 16 year old, focused on paraplegia, and patient education about autonomic dysreflexia.”

“Well, as usual, I’m fucking useless,” he mumbled. Usually when he said something about your intelligence in regards to his, he was joking. But there was something else behind this one that made your heart tighten a bit. 

You were about to ask him what was wrong, but Grayson came back in from outside - the workshop, no doubt - and made his way to the kitchen. 

“Y/N, you up for two Grayson meals in one day? I’m making veggie burgers,” he offered, already pulling out pans.

“Yeah that would be great actually,” you smiled at him.

“Alright, 3 burgers coming up,” he replied, not having to ask Ethan if he wanted one. 

“You got this. I’m gonna work on the video for a while, okay?” Ethan kissed your temple before getting up and leaving you to it.

With the quiet rustle of Grayson cooking in the background, and the warm tea waking you up a bit, you got to work at a much faster pace than you had before. Even so, you didn’t beat Grayson and he stopped by with a plate as you typed away.

“More brain fuel for the genius of the family,” he teased, sitting it down next to you. 

“Thanks Gray, love you!” You chuckled, immediately starting to eat, not realizing how hungry you were. 

It was good, as most things that Grayson made were, and it gave you the final boost that you needed. 

By 7:30, you had submitted the paper and felt like a huge weight had lifted off your shoulders. You hopped off the couch, scooping up all of your things and heading back to Ethan’s room. 

As usual, he was on his computer with his headphones on, editing away. You sat everything down, coming up behind him and putting a hand on his shoulder, a non-startling way to let him know you were there. 

He kissed the back of your hand before taking it and gently pulling, spinning the chair around with the momentum and pulling you down so you settled in his lap facing him. Like this, you were taller than him, and he reached both hands up to cup your face, one moving to take your hair out of the bun that it was in, strands falling around the both of you as he kissed you.

His scruff tickled you as your lips moved together, making up for the lost time of the day. His hands moved down to your waist, large and warm as he squeezed, his fingers moving under your hoodie until he found your skin. No matter how many times he did this, it always took his breath a bit, and he pulled back for a second to look at you.

“You finished your paper I assume?” He smiled, freeing a hand to tuck some hair back from your eyes. You rested your cheek in his tattooed palm, gazing at him.

“Yep.”

“Feel better?”

“Mostly.”

“Mostly?” He countered, confused. 

“What were you upset about earlier?” You asked. 

“Nothing.”

It was a knee jerk reaction, and he knew that you weren’t going to take that as an answer. You simply waited, settling on his lap and tucking your forehead up against the side of his neck, tracing over his collarbone tattoo while you waited for him to find the words. Sometimes, he found it easier if he wasn’t looking right at you to say what he felt. 

“You’re out of my league,” were the words he finally found, and it took all your power not to scoff. 

“Why do you feel that way?” 

“You’re so much smarter than me. You’re about to finish college, and I barely have a high school diploma to my name. You just wrote a paper, god knows how long, and I didn’t even know what you were talking about. I wouldn’t even understand it, much less be able to help you with it like I should. I just feel stupid, all the time.” 

There were a million different things you wanted to say, but you’d learned something while dating Ethan. For him, he thought anything you said was out of obligation. He felt like you were ‘just saying it to make him feel better’, not because you meant it. 

So instead, you’d learned you needed to show him. 

You got off his lap, ignoring the panic on his face as you sat back down, now facing the same way as him, the computer screen lighting up your faces. 

“What were you doing before I came in here?” You asked, keeping your tone neutral.

“Editing, you know that,” he said, even more confused. 

“No, what exactly were you doing?”

“Importing footage, splicing, adding transitions, text overlays. The usual,” he explained.

“Do you realize that I have absolutely no idea how to do any of that?” You said, turning to look at him.

“You could learn, I could teach you easily.” His eyebrows furrowed. 

“Just like I could teach you about spinal cord injuries.”

You let that sit for a minute, knowing he wasn’t going to have an argument against you.

“You are smart Ethan. You put your energy and your knowledge into your work, and I put mine into school, which I’ll eventually put into work as well. And besides, if anyone is out of someone’s league, you’re definitely out of mine,” you smiled.

“Well, maybe you aren’t so smart if you believe that, even for a second.”

There was light in his eyes again, and you knew the storm had passed. 

“Now then, when does that video have to go up?”

“Whenever.”

“Then I think we’ve both spent enough time staring at a screen today. Cuddles?” 

His answer was given by wrapping a strong arm around your waist as he stood you both up. You knew the drill; he was about to pick you up, pull the covers back and put you down in bed, but he paused. 

“Too many clothes,” he mumbled, a mischievous grin on his face. He quickly pulled his shirt off over his head - a fresh one, you hadn’t even noticed that he’d changed from what he’d worn all day. He tossed it on the bed before turning to you, fingers toying at the hem of the hoodie you had on.

He quickly pulled it over your head, and then he groaned.

“What?!” You giggled, looking down at yourself. 

“Regular bra’s I can handle, but those things are a death trap. I always feel like I’m choking you,” he gestured to your sports bra. You laughed a bit, pulling it over your head yourself and tossing it to the side. Ethan reached past you to snag his shirt, pulling it over your head. Once your face cleared the collar he kissed you softly, smiling as you tilted up to meet him. 

His fingers tucked into your sweatpants, guiding them off your hips until they fell down in a puddle at your feet. You stepped out of them quickly.

“Much better,” he smiled, hands going to your hips as you jumped up onto him. Your legs wrapped around his hips and his hands moved around to your ass, holding you up. You kissed him again, running your fingers through his short hair. 

“Cuddles?” You poised again.

“I could stay here all day,” he grinned, kissing you again. 

“Suit yourself,” you smiled. It wasn’t hard for you to just hang there. 

“Alright fine, I’m cold. Dismount.” 

You smiled at the code word, climbing down off of him and crawling into bed, opening your arms. 

Ethan was right behind you, crawling under the covers and wrapping you up in his arms. 

“I can’t wait for your semester to be over so we can do this all day long,” he mumbled, breath warm on his skin.

“Hmmm, maybe I’ll make you teach me how to edit so I can be double smart,” you grinned.

“Oh shut up.” You could hear the eye roll in his voice, but he just pulled you closer, so tight you could barely breathe. 

“I love you, lil genius,” Ethan said into your hair, loosening up a bit and settling into a comfortable position. 

“Love you more, big genius.”

[soprano193]

Not a Couple

Chapter 9

Maura:

Waking in Paris without Jane was expected. A day earlier, Maura would have thought Jane would wake her, and they'd share a tearful goodbye as she took a taxi to the airport for her early flight. She hadn't expected the turn their last night would take, the way the light reflected off Jane's skin making her glow, her smile warm and inviting. If Maura could have stopped everything at that moment, she would have. Instead, she had kissed Jane, making her run away. Her closest friend ignored her pleas to come back, her hand covering her mouth as she backed away. In the hotel room she slept, her head under the blankets, so Maura couldn't see her face. And in the morning Maura awoke to a note on the pillow. I hope you can forget this someday. It was cryptic. Much with Jane was sometimes hard to understand at first. But now Maura didn't know if she could reach out and get the explanation. She was left feeling lost. She repeated those seven words like a mantra, trying to figure her friend out. In the taxi to the airport. I hope you can forget this someday. While sitting next to the snoring man in the window seat. I hope you can forget this someday. In the silent cab ride to her house. I hope you can forget this someday. And as she unpacked, finding Jane's worn Garciaparra t-shirt wrapped up in her laundry. I hope you can forget this someday. Sitting on her bed, Jane's Red Sox shirt in her hand, Maura let her tears fall. She didn't want to forget.

The next morning, after another fitful night of sleep, she made her way downstairs. Before she had time to process it, she was wrapped in the arms of her pseudo-mother, the Italian woman laughing as she tightened her grip. "Oh Maura, I missed you girls so much!" She pressed a loud kiss to Maura's cheek, making the Doctor smile.

Despite knowing the care behind the gesture, Maura couldn't help but stiffen. She wasn't quite upset enough for the touch to make her skin crawl, but the woman's embrace was enough to make Maura uncomfortable. When Angela let go, Maura felt like she could breathe again. "Hello, Angela! I've missed you, too." Her response was careful, just cheery enough to make Angela happy and not ask any questions.

The older woman beckoned her over to the island, where Maura saw a plate and steaming cup ready. "I made you breakfast and some tea." Sitting, Maura noticed Angela had made her famous bunny pancake, its face complete with a smile that was unnatural for the species, but adorable on a pancake. Angela leaned on the counter across from Maura, watching her with anticipation. Although Maura wasn't interested in eating, she took a bite off the ear, faking a smile in the other woman's direction. Angela seemed to take the bait, relaxing, and wiping the counter. "It's not a fresh croissant with jam, but I thought it was better than nothing."

"Thank you." Maura took another bite and sipped her tea. She tossed another smile at Angela, hoping she looked natural. "Did Jane text you? Did she make it home alright?"

"She didn't tell you?"

Maura's palms began to perspire. That was the wrong question to ask. Thinking on her feet, Maura began to talk. "Well, I was flying when she landed, so I'm sure she wasn't thinking about me."

It took a moment, but Angela began to nod at the explanation. "Makes sense." Maura breathed out as she spoke, thankful for the simple explanation, thankful that she didn't need to get into the longer explanation. Abandoning the towel, Angela leaned forward, the corners of her mouth pulled upward. "So tell me. How was Paris?"

It was the one question she knew was going to come up, but didn't want to answer. Her mind wandered back to Paris, catching Jane's face in the hall of mirrors, or the way her eyes shone in the lights of the Tower at night, laughing with her in the catacombs, and the little moments alone together in their room. Then she heard those words in the back of her mind. I hope you can forget this someday. Looking down at the pancake she didn't want to eat, she answered. "Paris was really fun. Jane told me she sent you pictures."

"Well she did, but she didn't say much."

Sighing, Maura took one last bite of her pancake before pushing her chair back. "Well, I can tell you more later tonight. Right now, I need to head to work. I have to check in with Dr. Drake, and catch up on some of my more official business."

"But you just got home. Can't you take a day to relax?" Maura could hear the dejection in the older woman's voice. As much as she wanted to talk about her vacation with Jane, the memories were so potent and too painful.

"I relaxed for a month. I need to get back to work." Feeling sorry, Maura offered Angela a short hug, trying not to make it feel stiff. "We'll talk later."

True to her word, Maura dressed for work, picking out a blue and white patterned skirt and a navy blouse with ruffles down the front. Saying a final goodbye to her tenant, Maura rushed out the door and headed to her car.

Kent had been efficient in her absence. Their caseload was manageable, the techs had done adequate work, and Maura found only a few instances of speculation. Even her office looked untouched, everything exactly as she remembered it before she left. It bothered her that it brought her comfort. She started by familiarizing herself with the cases she had missed. Listening to Kent's autopsy and going over the evidence presented by Detectives helped her feel like she had actually been there.

She had been listening for an hour when Dr. Drake made his appearance, knocking softly at her door. Waving, he came to stand in front of her desk. "You're back! I thought you'd take a day to reset your internal clock."

"Well, jet lag is easier to overcome when flying west, so I don't think it will be a big deal." She gestured to the couch, feeling more comfortable when both were sitting. "It looks like things went well here. There isn't much I need to address." At his nod, Maura continued. "Thank you for running things to my standards."

"Of course." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "So, how was Paris?"

"I kissed Jane." She blurted it out before she could stop it, watching the look on his face as she spoke. Excitement, followed by confusion, the same emotions she felt by the whole event. Placing her hands in the middle on her forehead, she slowly moved them outward, slowing her thoughts and grounding her to the present. "I'm sorry for dumping this on you."

"No, it's fine. You don't need to apologize." His words made her sigh out in relief, her posture relaxing. "I'm guessing Jane didn't react well?"

"Jane ran away. I tried to give her space, but she was sleeping when I got back to the room." Or pretending to. Her breathing wasn't as deep as it was when she slept. Maura hadn't pushed it, wanting to give her time to process her thoughts. Pushing would have only made things worse.

"I have to admit, that's not the reaction I thought Jane would have." At Maura's puzzled look, he continued. "I didn't think your feelings were one-sided, just not realized by either party."

"For a few days, I thought the same thing." She remembered all the times she'd caught Jane looking at her over their trip. The hairs on her arm stood up as she remembered her friend calling her gorgeous before their outing to Notre Dame. "I saw the look on her face in the hall of mirrors, her eyes sad, but there was something else there. She didn't take her eyes off me either like she was afraid I was leaving. And I swear, while looking at the stained glass at Notre Dame, she was looking at me when she said it was beautiful." She could still feel Jane's gaze now, boring a hole into her cheek. "But I've never been good with social cues. I must have missed something."

Leaning back into the couch, Kent let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, Maura."

She chuckled. "No need to apologize. It's not your fault." She traced the design in her skirt with her finger. "I was thinking. Whenever I don't know what to do in a social situation, I consult Jane. She doesn't judge me, and she explains things in a way I'll understand. This is the one situation where I couldn't consult her, so I'm not surprised that I've messed things up."

Kent's voice was soft, even, his attempt at keeping her calm. "Have you talked to her?" As Maura shook her head, he continued. "Well, you need to. The bond you two share is special. Even if I'm wrong and she doesn't feel the same, I believe you two can work past this."

Maura sat with his words, thinking about them as he stood. Thinking back to Paris, how domestic it had been, how normal their proximity felt, Maura wasn't sure she wanted to go back to just friendship. But considering the alternative led to the absence of Jane in her life, friendship was something she could settle on. Nodding, she addressed Kent as he left her office. "Thank you."

Back at home, she tried to return to some version of normalcy. With a plate of Angela's leftover risotto and a glass of wine, Maura settled at the table to read a medical journal. The only indication of the time changing was the steady emptying of her wine glass, and she was surprised when she heard the door open and close, signaling the end of Angela's shift. "Good! You're still awake!" She dropped her purse on the island and wrapped Maura in another tight embrace. Considering her chat earlier with Kent, Maura was feeling a bit better than she had been that morning and welcomed the contact with more ease.

"Would you like a glass? I've already had one." Maura pointed to the open bottle of wine still on the counter.

"No thanks. I'm meeting Ron for breakfast tomorrow." She did however get herself a glass of water, facing Maura from across the island. "So, tell me more about Paris. Did you two go to the Louvre?"

Maura swallowed, taking a moment to push her feelings for Jane to the side. She then smiled, remembering the artwork. "We did. I always seem to find something new that I like there each visit. This time I fell in love with the Lamassu."

Before she could start talking about the sheer age and condition of the statues, Angela interrupted, severing Maura's train of thought. "Did you see the Mona Lisa? Or the statue with no arms? I was so surprised that the Mona Lisa was so small."

Maura laughed. "We did. And Jane deduced that the Venus de Milo might have been dancing the hula."

This got Angela laughing. "Did she now?" So Maura decided to pull out her phone and look for the picture. She realized at once it was a bad idea. Scrolling through all those photos of Jane made compartmentalization much more difficult. When she found the picture, she passed the phone to Angela, who chuckled, her eyes tearing up. "I miss her." She began to flip through more pictures, and Maura was relieved that the last few they took were on Jane's phone and not hers. "It looks like you two had fun." She said it as she passed the phone back to Maura, her eyes searching the Doctor's face like she could see what Maura was hiding. It made her uncomfortable.

"We did." Standing with her plate and empty wine glass, she began to clean up her mess. "I hate to rush out on you again, but you have an early morning, and my body still doesn't know what time it is, so I'm finding myself tired."

Angela put her glass down, taking Maura's plate and shooing her away. "Don't worry, honey, I've got this. You go get some rest."

"Thank you. See you in the morning." Maura waited for the older woman's soft smile before leaving the room, walking up to her bedroom. Before changing, she sat on her bed and opened her phone, clicking on the familiar contact and typing out a quick message. Your Mom told me you arrived home safely. I hope things go well at Quantico. She placed her phone on the nightstand and changed into Jane's Red Sox shirt, climbing between the covers when done. Her phone chimed. Sorry I didn't let you know. I'm glad you're home safe. It was distant still, but it made Maura hopeful. Hopeful that they would again speak like they used to.

Maura was awoken early by a call to a crime scene. In a way, it was a relief that she wouldn't have to face Angela again in the morning. She also enjoyed the return to some sort of normalcy after a month away. The familiar hustle of a crime scene was oddly comforting. As she was let past the red tape, she took a cursory look as to what was inside. A woman, maybe thirty years of age, lying facedown on the living room floor, a large red puddle underneath her. About twenty feet away marked with a yellow placard, lay a handgun. Another young woman with dark hair cried in the corners near while talking to a uniformed officer. Nodding at them both, Maura knelt beside the victim. Brushing her dark hair aside, she saw bruising on the sides of her neck. Moving her shirt, she noticed the marks went down her back. Her heart fell as the story started to piece together.

"Detective Rizzoli." Someone said it in greeting, and Maura felt her breath hitch as she looked for the curly-haired woman. It shouldn't have surprised her to see Frankie instead, a redhead in plainclothes following right behind him. Pushing her disappointment to the side, Maura smiled and waved at the confidant man entering the crime scene.

"Maura! You're back!" He grinned, touching her shoulder as she remained crouched. "How was Paris?"

"Beautiful, as always." It was the answer she had rehearsed the whole way over, She stood, shedding her gloves and offering the man a hug. "How have things been here in Boston?"

"Business as usual." Turning, he waved his hand, urging the redhead closer. "Dr. Isles, this is my new partner, Detective Hyde."

She reached forward and grasped Maura's hand, her grip firm. "It's nice to meet you, Dr, Isles. Frank and Nina have told me all about you."

"Please, call me Maura. It's nice to meet you too, Detective Hyde."

The woman smiled, warmth shining through her bright blue eyes. "Linn. Short for Linnet."

Letting go of Linn's hand, Maura pulled out two new gloves from her pockets. "Pretty name, Welsh I believe?" The woman nodded, a knowing grin on her face. "It suits you." She bent down again, feeling the joints and examining the body. As she made her observations, she addressed the more senior detective. "Have you started wedding planning?"

Frankie chuckled at that, pulling out his phone. "Nina and her sisters have all that covered. They even made me a checklist, see?" He scrolled through an exhausting number of tasks to complete. "Nina wants to wait for Thanksgiving to go dress shopping. She wants to give Jane the chance to join."

"That's nice." Her answer was short. If Frankie realized, he didn't say anything or just thought she was busy with her observations.

"Don't tell her, but Nina wants her to be a bridesmaid."

For a moment, Maura pictured Jane standing next to Nina, a burgundy red dress hugging her curves, her hair in neat curls hanging by her shoulders. Maura had to fight to push the daydream away, reminding herself that she had a job to do. She looked up at Frankie, flashing him a reassuring look. "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me."

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Work brought Maura a sense of relief. After a month off, she had a lot of managerial tasks and business to attend to, things Kent was not able to handle in his position. And it may have been wrong, but Maura began using work as a way to stay away from Angela. After a few days of dodging every question about Paris she asked, Maura found it was easier to work late on Angela's nights off or go to bed early when the older woman came home, citing an early day the next morning. This bought her a few more days avoiding questions. Now she only hoped that the interest would wear off.

After a week of being back, one day after work Maura fired up her fireplace and settled on the couch with a medical journal on her iPad and a cup of tea on the side table. Angela, who wasn't supposed to be home until late into the night, surprised her by plopping onto the couch next to her, holding out an envelope. "For you."

Her pseudo-mother looked serious, her face stoic, piquing the Doctor's interest. Inside she found two checks for nine-hundred dollars. She felt her eyebrows pull closer, and she studied the brunette sitting beside her. "Why are you giving me two months' worth of rent?"

"Ron's taking me on a road trip. I wanted to make sure you had next month's rent before I leave."

Shaking her head, Maura handed back one of the checks. "Angela, if you aren't going to be here, you don't need to pay."

"Nonsense." Angela was firm, placing the check back in Maura's lap. "Any other apartment would still charge me rent."

Maura held the check in her hand, her thumb spinning in circles at the top corner. Angela wanted to do this. She had almost left because she wanted to do this, to feel like she was self-sufficient. So swallowing her worry, Maura accepted the check, placing it back in the envelope with its twin. Looking back at the older woman, who was now beaming, Maura offered her a smile. "So, when do you leave?"

"In the morning. He won't tell me the destination, but he promised that we could spend time in DC so I could visit with Jane." If she noticed the stiffening of the Doctor at the mention of her best friend, she didn't say anything. "I actually can't chat for long, I have to finish packing." She gestured to the door behind her.

Nodding, Maura closed the cover of her iPad. "I should go to bed soon anyway. I have to drive to Worcester in the morning to interview candidates for Dr. Pike's position."

"You finally fired that guy?" Angela laughed, standing from the couch.

"Goodness, no. I can't stand him, but I had no reason to fire him." Maura stood, following her housemate to the door. "His wife got her dream job in Oklahoma, so they're moving."

"Well, I hope you find someone good."

"Me too." She opened the door. "Have a nice trip, Angela, I'll see you when you get back."

The woman surprised her again, wrapping her up in her arms, squeezing tight, her mouth right next to Maura's ear. "You know I love you, right?" At Maura's affirmative answer, her arms resting lightly around the woman's waist, she continued. "And you can talk to me about anything, even when I'm not here. Whenever you're ready."

At those words, Maura felt tears stinging in her eyes which she fought to keep from falling. Somehow she knew. This wasn't a surprise, but it helped to know that Angela didn't think any less of her. "I know. Thank you." Before pulling away, Angela pressed a kiss to Maura's cheek, the move maternal and completely natural to her. She offered a small smile before leaving through the door, allowing Maura to close it behind her.

Sitting on her bed, Maura sent another text. Your mother is leaving for a road trip tomorrow. She says she's going to visit you. As she changed into her own pajamas, Jane's shirt folded on top of her dresser, her phone chimed, alerting her to a response. Yeah. It will be nice to see a familiar face. Resting her head on her pillow, she typed, erased, and typed again until she figured out how to say best what she wanted to. I can always make time for a video chat if you need to see a familiar face. Satisfied, she sent it, putting her phone on her nightstand and rolling over, letting herself drift off to sleep.

The next morning she awoke, seeing a response from the previous night. I know, Maura. I'll keep that in mind.

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After another week of catching up, Maura's backed up work began to subside and she started seeing patients at MEND again. It was more work that she was grateful for, as it kept her out of her quiet apartment, and kept her mind occupied. More often, she was opting out of the nightly meet up at The Dirty Robber with the crew, and instead found herself examining increasingly difficult cases for the patients at MEND.

After a week of double duty, she was thrilled one day when they could wrap a case early and she could unwind at home. Saying goodbye to the Detectives, and forwarding her final report, she took a moment to enjoy the crisp air before making her way inside her home. Once inside, for the first time since returning from her trip, she found herself perusing her manuscript. Sitting at the island with a bottle of water, she refamiliarized herself with the story, and what she planned to do to improve it. Soon, Maura began to write, expanding her universe and trying to give her characters more depth.

It wasn't long before a knock at her front door interrupted her work. Maura glanced down at her phone, looking for a clue as to whom it could be. Closing the laptop, she went to answer the door. "Nina! What a lovely surprise." The Detective was still dressed for work, her badge hooked to her hip. She carried with her a pink box about the size of a shoebox. Moving aside, Maura allowed her friend to enter.

"Sorry for dropping by unannounced." She moved to lean against the island, depositing the box on the counter beside her. "I feel like I don't see you anymore."

With a guilty grimace, Maura clasped her hands in front of her. "I had a lot to catch up on after my trip. And MEND needs more help, especially with Hope overseeing the shortage of providers overseas, but when things calm down I'll…"

"Maura! It's okay, we understand." The younger woman's voice was forceful, stopping Maura's rambling. "I didn't mean to send you spiraling." She traced her fingers over the pink box. "I've just had this in my car for the last two weeks, waiting for the right time to give it to you."

Pointing, hesitant, Maura inched closer. "That's for me?"

Nina edged the box toward the Doctor. "Open it." Though confused, Maura closed the space between herself and the box and opened it. Pink tissue paper filled the empty space. Inside she found a small bottle of champagne, a silver necklace with a high-heeled shoe charm, and a glass candle jar, silver-grey lettering spelling out the word, 'bridesmaid'. Nina's smile was wide as Maura examined each item, unsure of what to say. The younger woman, thankfully, knew how to break the silence as Maura looked between her and the box. "So I'll take that as a yes?"

"Of course!" Maura leaned in at that moment, wrapping the shorter woman in her arms, delighted when she reciprocated. "I'm so honored you thought of me."

Pulling away, dark eyes met Maura's, their tone serious, but her face joyful. "Please, Maura. You welcomed me into your life with open arms. You made Boston feel like home." She giggled. "Plus, you're my karaoke buddy."

"Oh, I don't think I want to do that again. I'm not sure of the efficacy it had on my neural pathways."

Laughing, Nina pulled away from the counter, making Maura turn to face her. "You have to do it at least once!"

"I don't think I have to."

Nina pushed her lip out, pouting. "Not even for the bride?"

Maura hadn't been in a lot of weddings. In fact, she hadn't been in one. But she knew that historically, what the bride asked for, the bride got. With a shocked gasp, she cried out, "That's not fair!"

"I know!" Nina's laughter could only be described as maniacal, cackling as she walked toward the door. Maura moved with her, to see her out. Before Maura opened the door, Nina turned to look at her, face now serious, dark eyes kind. "You know, you need to maintain a healthy work/life balance. I understand needing to catch up, or fill in while Dr. Martin is away. But please, join us at the Dirty Robber at some point. We know that none of us are Jane, but we can still have fun."

Maura knew that her words intended to comfort her, but instead, they stung. Nina had seen through the charade. Hanging out with her friends meant acknowledging that things had changed. Maura didn't adapt well to change. With a reserved nod at the Detective, Maura opened the door to see her out. "I will try to make an appearance as soon as Hope is back in the states."

"I'd like that. Take care, Maura."

Maura waved before closing the door behind her friend. Checking the time, she took a moment to put the bottle of champagne away. Before leaving, she smelled the candle, an interesting mix of lavender and wild ginger, put her computer away, and attempted to push the image of both her and Jane standing up at the altar together out of her mind.

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It was a few days later during one of her rare days off that her birth mother's face flashed on her screen. "Hello?"

"Maura! How are you? How was your vacation?"

"I'm good. It was nice." Almost a month later, and the sting of the last few hours was still harsh. But it was easier to ignore as she thought back on happier memories. "How is Morocco?"

"Busy. I must admit, that is why I'm calling."

"Go on."

"Well, there's still a shortage of providers, and a nasty outbreak of influenza keeps us fully booked each day. It looks like I need to delay my trip home another two weeks."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Maura sat at her island, a notepad handy. "How can I help?"

"It's a bit of an odd request, I'm afraid." Maura could hear background noise decrease, as if Hope had stepped into an office. "Do you remember me mentioning opening another clinic in the United States in DC?" At Maura's hum of acknowledgment, she continued. "This great property just opened up. I planned to go see the site on Saturday when I returned. But now I'm stuck here, and I'm worried someone else will make an offer before I even get back to the States."

It took Maura a minute to register what she was asking. "So you want me to meet with the realtor?"

"Could you? Do you have the time? The only other person I trust is Cailin, and she's busy with class. I know you wouldn't steer me wrong. I can pay for your hotel, and get your ticket."

"I have miles. You don't need to buy my ticket."

Hope let out a sigh on the other end of the phone. "Maura, I can't thank you enough for doing this."

"It's no problem. I needed an excuse to go to DC anyway." Her mind drifted to Jane's t-shirt, still folded on top of her dresser.

"Thank you. I'll email you all the details, along with a list of questions to ask, feel free to ask your own if you think of any." Maura heard muffled voices in the background. "I need to go now, my next appointment is here."

"Okay. Stay safe, and I'll see you when you get home." When the call ended, Maura stopped what she was doing and went upstairs to pack. She wouldn't let a last-minute trip leave her unprepared. She planned on three days, pulling out outfits for each day. She grabbed her smaller suitcase, one suitable for the overhead bins, and placed it on the bed. The first thing she packed was Jane's Garciaparra shirt. It gave her a reason to visit, hopefully showing Jane that life was better off when they were on speaking terms.

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Her flight on Saturday left at eight in the morning, getting her in the Capital around 10. After waiting around for her rental car, she had only a few minutes to refresh in her hotel room before rushing out to meet the realtor.

The property was nice, a square building with plenty of parking surrounding it. Maura noticed several bus stops along the way that meant it would be accessible to people who relied on public transportation. She parked in a spot behind the two cars, figuring one was the realtor. The other car was idling. Upon exiting her vehicle, the voice she heard made her eyes go wide. "Ma, just get in the car! You can tell me all about the turtle or tortoise later!" Unable to believe what she was hearing, Maura walked in front of her vehicle to glance between the two that she was parked behind. Angela leaned against the white car, her eyes looking down at her phone. Jane, with her curls pulled back into a loose ponytail, stood at the door of the idling car, her hand on the handle.

"Angela? Jane? What are you guys doing here?" Maura could feel her eyebrows furrowing as she took in the sight before her.

Angela reacted fast, her mouth dropping open, as she moved to hug the Doctor. "Maura! What are you doing here?" She wrapped the blonde in a tight grip, her face now hidden from view. But Maura was more interested in Jane's reaction.

Jane watched her Mother, her eyes flickering with anger, her mouth slightly ajar. She thought something was up. But as she looked at Maura, her expression softened, anger was replaced with worry. She flashed a shy smile that made Maura's stomach flip. "Hi, Maur. Fancy meeting you here. In this random parking lot."

Maura stepped back, making Angela pull away. Gesturing toward the empty building, Maura addressed the older woman first. "Hope sent me here. She wants me to look at this office, and determine if it's a good spot for another MEND clinic." Turning to address Jane, she continued. "I was going to call you after my showing."

"You don't have to explain yourself."

"It's not an explanation, it's the truth." While others may have been surprised by Maura's blunt reply, Jane didn't blink, and answered with a nod. Encouraged by this, Maura continued. "My plane landed two hours ago. Hope called me just a few days ago. None of this was well planned, so I wanted to call you when I was settled."

The brunette nodded, shoulders relaxing. "I believe you. Sorry."

Next to her, Angela typed away at her phone, typing in an address to her phone's GPS. "Jane! Ron said he found a store with a new GPS. It's straight down this road, I can't miss it." She put her phone in her pocket and walked over to her daughter, wrapping her in a hug and pressing a kiss to her cheek. Jane pulled away from the contact, her face scrunched and her eyes narrowed as her mother made her escape. "I need to go get it, he said there's only one left and I don't want someone else to buy it first."

"Ma, I drove here to get you. You're just gonna leave me?" Jane held her hands open, waiting for an explanation.

"You're not alone! You have Maura!" She opened her door. "We can get dinner, and I can see your new apartment tomorrow."

Jane sighed, crossing her arms. "Okay. Drive safe, Ma."

As Angela began to pull out of the parking lot, a red SUV pulled in. Maura gestured to it. "That's probably my guy."

Jane hesitated for a moment as if deciding what to say. "Yeah. So you're busy. Maybe we can do something tomorrow." She reached for her handle again.

"Jane, wait." The last time Maura had said those words, Jane ran. This time, she stopped, turning once more to face the Doctor. "Why don't you come in with me. I can't see this taking long, and I would love to grab lunch after. You know the good places to eat around here."

"What makes you think that?" Her tone was hesitant, but she wore a faint smile on the corner of her lips. Maura longed to turn the faint smile into an overt one, even just for a moment.

"Please. It's been a month. Your fridge ratio is probably seventy-thirty take out containers to fresh food."

This made the Instructor laugh, and Maura could feel some of the tension between them release. "You still know me so well."

Maura laughed along with her, letting the tension clear and relishing in the sound. It had been too long. "Of course I do. We haven't changed." She hoped the message was clear. Nothing had to change.

Whether Jane found it comforting was unclear. The taller woman nodded, eyes downcast. "I guess we haven't." She reached for the car door again, this time opening it, leaning in, and turning the car off. She pocketed her keys and gave the Doctor a curt nod. With a wave of her arms, she gestured toward the building and the waiting man. "After you."

The man was shorter in stature, dark skin, and black hair, but he seemed friendly enough as they approached. "Dr. Isles?" At her nod, he continued, thrusting out his hand. "Dave Ganem, it's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too. This is my friend, Jane. She's going to join us for the viewing. Do you mind if I record this? It will make things easier when I have to send my recommendations to my M… To Dr. Martin." She wondered if he caught the label she almost dropped, one she still wasn't sure how she felt about Hope using. A glance in Jane's direction told her she had caught on, her eyes soft with a dimpled grin. It made Maura's stomach flip again, and she tried to remember if she'd had this reaction every time Jane had given her that same look.

Mr. Ganem's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Of course not. Feel free to take videos and photographs, too." Pulling a key from his pocket, he unlocked the doors and led them inside. "Let's get started."

The building must have been used once already for medical purposes. There were fifteen dedicated exam rooms, a few rooms large enough for some imaging equipment, and three dedicated office spaces. Maura discovered that they were a twenty-minute drive away from a hospital, that the previous owners had decided to retire, and that the area received a lot of foot traffic. She had Jane and Mr. Ganem have a conversation in one exam room while trying to listen from the other room, noting that she could not make it out. Considering how loud she knew her friend could be, this was a pro in her mind. Aside from the electrical issue with the fan in the bathroom, all the building needed was a fresh coat of paint.

"Thank you, Mr. Ganem. I will have Dr. Martin review all of this, but I'm sure she'll be in touch." She shook his hand and offered him a warm smile.

"I look forward to it. It was so nice to meet you both." While shaking hands with Jane, he gave her a knowing look. "The Yankees are going all the way this year."

Jane chuckled, and Maura imagined she squeezed his hand a little harder. "In your dreams, pal."

They both laughed as they pulled away from each other, Jane's head shaking as she turned to walk toward their cars. Her hand fell to the small of Maura's back as they walked, the touch sending shivers up Maura's spine. She longed to lean back into it, to reciprocate somehow, but words started flashing in her head. I hope you can forget this someday. Afraid to scare Jane as she was becoming more comfortable, Maura opted to continue as if she hadn't noticed. "Of course you two discussed sports."

"Well, you put me in a room with a guy I don't know and ask me to talk to him about something. What did you expect?"

"I guess you have a point." Maura giggled, shaking her head. As they walked, her stomach let out an audible growl. "I haven't eaten since I had that Danish at Logan."

Stopping at her car, Jane dropped her hand from Maura's back and started playing with her keys in her other hand. "Okay. We're right down the road from Black Market." Maura couldn't help but imagine a dark alley with people selling food dressed in trenchcoats. Jane must have registered the puzzled expression because she clarified with a snort. "It's a bar, Maur. It reminds me of home."

"Oh! That makes sense. Okay, I'll follow you."

They parked next to each other at the bar. Maura took a moment to shoot Hope a text, saying to jump on the place, and that more info would come later. Jane waited by the car until she was done, and then led the way up the walkway and into the building.

Maura understood why Black Market reminded Jane of home. The set up was very similar to the Dirty Robber. The lighting was dim, booths were set up along the windows, the bar itself was long. Instead of nautical decorations, the ones here seemed to be focused on police and FBI memorabilia. Jane picked the seat that would have been their booth back home. As Maura looked over the menu, Jane ordered their drinks. "It's a nice place."

"It's far enough away from campus that I don't usually see recruits here."

"It's more than that." She put down the menu, having decided what to eat, and took the opportunity to look Jane in the eye. "It's familiar. I mean, you chose our spot."

Jane's mouth perked up on one side at that comment. "You noticed."

"How could I miss it?" It seemed like Jane wasn't sure what to say, as she played with the napkin that wrapped up her silverware. So Maura decided to pull the conversation along. "How is Quantico?"

"I like it a lot more than I thought I would." They paused to order food, and for Maura to butter up a bread roll to calm her growling stomach. "Right now I'm mostly observing. Which I'm thankful for, considering I've never taught, but a few instructors have allowed me to teach some modules, and it's amazing."

"You have taught. You taught Frankie everything he knows."

Jane snorted, grabbing a roll and taking a bite before answering. "I taught Frankie a lot. But he was a group effort. How is he doing?"

"He seems to be doing well. His new partner, Hyde, is different."

"Different how?" Jane leaned forward with anticipation.

"She's soft. Her face is soft, her demeanor is warm, she's even soft-spoken." Thinking back to the squad room a few months ago, Linnet Hyde varied in every possible way from the people who had left. "It's not bad per se, but it is amusing to watch her try to play mean cop while Frankie is being nice cop."

"You mean good cop/bad cop?"

With a scoff, Maura took the correction. "Yes. You know what I mean." They continued their conversations through their meal, both skirting around any mention of Paris with apparent ease. Jane reminded Maura to work less and connect with people, showing that she had been in touch with people from back home, and they had talked about her. Maura asked about her new workout routine now that she wasn't chasing down criminals. And Jane filled her in on the few new friends she was making, some instructors and a neighbor. Jane picked up the tab, despite Maura's protestations, and they remained seated, neither ready to leave. "I've missed this." Maura began carefully, testing things out, wondering if Jane was ready for a bigger conversation. "Talking to you, I mean."

"Yeah." Jane's eyes went downward again, the Instructor avoiding the Doctor's gaze. "I think this is the longest we've gone without speaking."

"I think you're right." Their fight after the Doyle shooting had only lasted about ten days and had been agonizing. Things had been said on both sides then, things said in anger, that both were too stubborn to apologize for. Now things needed to be said. Watching as Jane played with the condensation on the outside of her cup, her refusal to meet Maura's eye, Maura backed off. "Let's not let it get like this again." She reached for her friend's hand, making her look up, and Maura flashed her a smile meant to reassure. "Can we agree to at least weekly Skype calls?"

Jane squeezed her hand back, making her stomach flip for the third time that day. "I think I can fit you into my schedule."

Walking back to their cars, Maura prepared herself to say goodbye. But a glimpse at Jane's Red Sox keychain reminded her of the Garciaparra shirt in her bag. "I have something that belongs to you!" She blurted, making Jane's eyes grow wide with amusement. "It's at my hotel."

Glancing at her watch, Jane played with her keys in her hand. "I have time. I'll follow you."

The ride to the hotel took longer, with it situated just outside the city. And Jane parked further away, so Maura had to wait at the door. She didn't seem like she was in a rush, typing on her phone as she walked. As she slipped her phone in her pocket, she followed Maura through the lobby and into the elevator. She was close, as close as they had been leaving the medical office, but this time her hand wasn't in the small of Maura's back. The Doctor began to wonder if it was normal to crave that contact.

Her hotel room was on the fourth floor, two doors down from the elevator, a real convenient spot. She opened the door with her room key and held the door open, inviting Jane in. "It's still in my bag. I think it got mixed in with my laundry in Paris." She began digging through her bag, knowing it was underneath the rest of her belongings. "I was going to return it at Thanksgiving. But this trip presented me with a different option." Grasping the cotton shirt, She turned with a triumphant grin to had it to the waiting Instructor.

Jane's eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped as she unfolded it and looked at the number on the back. "Nomah!"

"I don't think that's english."

Jane laughed, a grateful smile gracing her lips as she ran her fingers over the shirt. "No, it's Nomar. His first name, but you have to say it with your most obnoxious Boston accent. It's like a rule or something." Placing the shirt down on the table, she faced Maura and met her eyes, her smile soft and warm. "I've been looking for that shirt. Thank you, Maur." And then Jane pulled her into a hug.

Long arms wrapped around her, and Maura swore she stopped breathing. Jane's hair tickled the side of her face, and Maura had to stop picturing what it would be like to run her fingers through Jane's wild mane. The scent of lavender and honeysuckle brought a sense of warmth that she wasn't anticipating. And yet all she could think of were those words. I hope you can forget this someday. So instead of reciprocating, Maura stiffened.

Jane realized it after about four seconds, backing away, her head down. "Um. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." She allowed Maura to back up, Which she did until her calves met the back of an armchair. Sitting, she took deep breaths, trying to calm herself down, wondering when her cheeks had become wet. Jane looked at her when she heard the noise. Maura was nervous she'd run again, or that the progress they'd made earlier would be negated. Instead, Jane sighed, sitting at the foot of the bed. "Maura, I'm sorry. Please don't cry."

She didn't stop. Though she found it ironic that the one person who truly helped her feel better when she cried, was now the cause of it. Taking steadying breaths, she allowed herself to ask the question that had been plaguing her for a month. "What did you want me to forget?"

Brown eyes grew wide with recognition, the grimace in her face and the way she shrunk indicating that she was ashamed. "I didn't mean…"

"I mean, I've been saying those words over and over in my head all month trying to figure it out. Because I don't want to forget Paris. We had so much fun, and did so much laughing, and I felt like our relationship grew in response. And I can't forget you, Jane. You're in most of my happiest memories, you've been there during the worst parts of my life, and you're a person I picture still being around in my future. The thought of forgetting you is unbearable, Jane." That particular interpretation of the note was her biggest fear, the one her mind liked to tell her was most likely.

"I don't want that." Jane's voice sounded small, without it's usual gravitas, but she straightened her shoulders as she spoke. It showed some confidence in her words.

"Well, we went almost a month without communication, you can't blame me for thinking that."

"I know. But that's not what I meant." She looked away, her hands folded on her knees. Taking a deep breath in, and letting it out, she continued. "I wanted you to forget the kiss." The kiss. Maura didn't think she ever would. The lamplight that lit up her face in such a beautiful way, the river lapping in the background, the way they fit together perfectly, the feel of Jane's hands on her hips, how she felt like she was on fire, how suddenly everything made sense. Every moment of that kiss she wanted to remember forever. Jane's voice in the room pulled her back to the present. "I wanted you to forget being ashamed."

This made Maura's eyebrows knot together, her gaze focusing on the profile of Jane's face. "What makes you think I was ashamed?"

Jane's eyes rolled as she met Maura's gaze. "I'm a cop, Maura, I know what shame looks like. You looked down and away from me. You covered part of your face. You were ashamed."

Maura thought back to that night, remembering the immediate aftermath, the disappointed anguish flashing in Jane's eyes. "I wasn't ashamed of you." She met Jane's gaze for those words, hopeful that she would believe them. "I was ashamed of myself."

"Why in the world would you be ashamed of yourself?"

"For a number of reasons. First and foremost, you were romantically linked to someone else."

This made Jane scoff. "You were ashamed because of Davies?" Maura chuckled as she nodded, letting go of the tension in her body. "Let me clear that up for you. Davies texted me once before we left, and then I accidentally ignored him for a month. Toward the end of that month, I realized it wasn't gonna work between the two of us. Which only became more obvious once I locked lips with you."

Maura's stomach twisted in knots. "I didn't want to be the cause of that."

"It would have happened whether we kissed or not. I would have had the same problems with him that I had with Casey. Or Dean."

"Gabriel." Maura had to laugh as Jane cringed. The brunette joined in the laughter, and Maura could feel the unease begin to lift from the air between them. "Can I admit something to you?"

"At this point, I think you can tell me anything." She sat straighter on the edge of the bed, turning to face the blonde, giving her full attention.

Now it was Maura's turn to look away, afraid of how her words would be received. "It was a few months ago that I realized that my feelings for you went deeper than a normal friendship. Paris was harder on me than I thought it would be. Everything we did was so domestic, and it made me start thinking of how things could be all the time." She looked up briefly, finding the Instructor still looking at her, her eyes filled with adoration. Finding it too much, Maura looked away again. "I also realized a few months ago that if I acted on my feelings it would change everything. So that night, when I kissed you, I was ashamed at myself, for going back on my promise, and for working against my own self interests. I didn't want to change anything." She looked up to see Jane biting back her lips, like she was holding something in. Maura offered a shy smile, and began running her finger over the pattern on the armchair. She could hear her heart beating in her ears.

"So I guess it's my turn." The brunette was abrupt, crossing her legs and leaning forward. "At some point in Paris, I realized that things weren't going to work out between between me and Davies because I was falling for you." As Jane spoke, Maura looked at her, her peripheral vision going blank as she focused. "Like, really falling, Maura. I kept getting jealous of the husband you don't have." It was the laughter sob that revealed to Maura that she was crying again as she listened to her best friend speak, and she delighted in the smile that graced the brunette's face. "So when we kissed, I thought things between us were changing, and then when I saw your face, I was upset. And I reacted badly to that. It wasn't fair to you, and I'm sorry for that."

Maura nodded accepting the apology and taking it all in. After a long pause between the two of them, Maura asked the question at the forefront of her mind. "Do you still want things to change between us?"

Brown eyes blinked in disbelief. "Are you being serious?" At Maura's nod, a huge dimpled grin stretched wide across her face. "Yeah, I want things to change. Do you?"

Maura felt her breath hitch. "I would be amenable to that."

It wasn't even all the way out of her mouth before Jane was moving, closing the space between them. She cupped Maura's face in her hands and brought their lips crashing together, her fingers coming up to wipe tears from Maura's face. It was a move laced with such adoration and intimacy that Maura almost added more to her cheeks. Jane moved from her lips, peppering kisses down her jaw and along her cheek. She stopped briefly to whisper in Maura's ear, sending shivers down her spine. "All these years, and I still can't get a simple yes or no?"

Her hands on Jane's waist, she pulled down so she was sitting on her lap. "Yes." She husked into Jane's ear before peppering kisses down into her neck. She used her hands to pull out Jane's ponytail, finally allowing herself to run her fingers through her dark hair. Jane took advantage of her new position to run her fingers over Maura's back. Maura imagined this was what it felt like for every neuron in her body to fire at once. There wasn't an inch of her that wasn't electrified by Jane's touch, buy the brush of Jane's lips, by the sounds she was making as she gave in to her inhibitions.

Maura was upset she had to stop them, saying Jane's name a few times with some force. "I hate to bring this up right now of all times, but aren't you supposed to meet your mother for dinner?"

Jane chuckled, her grin seductive. "I rescheduled in the parking lot. Told her we were catching up." Her hands slid under Maura's blouse, touching bare skin and sending a new wave of pleasure through her body. "I did not tell her that we were catching up on eight years of missed opportunity."

"That's probably wise." Maura chuckled, launching back at Jane's lips.

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Maura woke to a languid kiss, a hand caressing her bare hip. Reaching for her lover, she was disappointed to find her clothed. "Where are you off to?"

"Breakfast with my Mother and Ron. And I have to bring her by the apartment."

Maura sat up, pushing her hair out of her face. "Give me a minute, I can get dressed."

But Jane sat on the bed, taking her hands and drawing all Maura's attention to her. "Not this time, Maura." She must have seen the hurt that she tried to hide, because a hand came up to her cheek, running down it in a soothing motion. "Not that I'm ashamed. I'm not. I just wanna keep this between us for a bit. It's special."

"It is." Maura agreed, yawning. "But I can keep it a secret."

Jane smiled, that big dopey smile that made Maura's heart melt. "It's not you I'm worried about. It's me." She leaned in, landing another slow yet hungry kiss. She pulled away, biting her lip. "I'm not sure I can keep my hands off you."

"That could be revealing." Maura laughed, the sound breathy as she allowed herself to wake, adjusting to her new reality. She pulled Jane in again, reveling in the pull in her gut as their lips met, Jane's moan setting her aflame. But she soon pulled away, muttering apologies, her hand lingering on Maura's face longer than necessary.

"I'll text you when I'm done. You can come over, we can order takeout, it will be like old times."

Maura grinned. "No. It'll be better."

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"Jane, is Thanksgiving really the best day to make this announcement?" They were lying in Maura's bed, naked, Jane typing away at her phone, seemingly oblivious to Maura's gaze.

"Thanksgiving is the day that we tell people what we're thankful for. What better day is there to say that I am thankful for my brilliant and incredibly gorgeous girlfriend?" She looked over then, her grin dimpled as she studied Maura's face.

"And you want to do it like this? A Facebook post to reveal the secret we've been keeping for the last five weeks?"

She thought about it for a moment, searching Maura's face like she was gauging her reaction. "I figured why not? Just rip off the Band-aid."

Looking her girlfriend over, she pulled away the covers, searching for something that had been unseen. "What Band-aid? Jane, what did you do?"

Instead of the answer she was looking for, the body in front of her began to shake with laughter. "Babe, it's an expression. I don't have a Band-aid." Maura couldn't help but laugh along with her, climbing back up to cuddle beside her. "It means that I think we should get it all done at once, instead of telling people sporadically."

"Oh." Her hands traced circles in Jane's toned stomach, her head rested on her shoulder.

"Is that okay with you?"

Maura went through the people in her life that needed to know. Most of them were connected to Jane in some way or another. The only ones who weren't were her parents. Her Mother was in Italy, working with someone on her next installation, and her Father was back in Africa, doing research on more indigenous tribes. It wasn't fair to put off the announcement so she could tell them in person. Grabbing her phone, She nodded. "Yes. As long as it's what you want."

Jane grinned, hitting the button to change their status, and Maura accepted the notification on her end. Jane took that time to change her profile picture. Maura had never seen it. The picture they took on the bridge, with Jane looking at the camera, but Maura looking adoringly at her face. "You were right, the lighting and everything that night made for a gorgeous photo."

"That wasn't the only reason I thought it would be gorgeous." Jane shot back, flashing that lopsided grin.

Their phones buzzed, the first comment from Frankie. Fucking finally! They shared a laugh at that, Jane shooting back with, Language, Francesco!

Dropping her phone on the nightstand, Jane rolled over, pulling the Doctor closer. Pressing a chaste kiss to her lips, she grinned. "Happy Thanksgiving."

"Happy Thanksgiving." Maura relished this, just being together. It was a long weekend, which meant Jane could visit longer, but she would still have her job to return to Monday morning. Maura was finding herself growing tired of the back and forth, but was hopeful that their plan would be put into action soon. With just a few loose ends to tie up today, she hoped the day when they could lie together like this every morning would come soon.

It wasn't long before their bliss was interrupted. She heard the door slam downstairs, Angela's hurried footsteps pounding on the floor. She stopped at the foot of the stairs. "Girls! Get down here, you have some explaining to do!"

Beside her, Jane giggled. "That took longer than I expected." She pulled herself from Maura's grip, rummaging in the suitcase she hadn't unpacked. While Maura found a pair of sensible silk pajamas to put on, Jane yanked on an FBI t-shirt and a pair of BPD sweatpants. Maura couldn't help but laugh at the pair of them. Yin and Yang, different as could be, but so perfect together. "You ready to face the music?"

She went up on her toes to press a kiss to the brunette's lips. "We can get through this."

"And if it gets bad, we have wine." This made them both laugh, holding hands as Jane turned toward the door.

It was then that Maura noticed the three words on the back of the shirt, the one purchased at the airport months ago. Female Boob Inspector. "Jane!" She hissed. "You can't wear that shirt downstairs!"

With a devilish grin, Jane shrugged her shoulders. "Well, it's kinda true now." Without waiting for a response, the brunette opened the door and rushed down the hall, shouting, "coming, Ma!"

Maura was definitely going to need wine.

[liusaidh-writing]

Call it True - Chapter One

 Claire and Jamie are neighbors - though they’ve never met.  Claire, infatuated with her Scot upstairs, is more than a little certain that it’ll never happen. Is she wrong?  

Prefer to read at AO3? 

Hope you all enjoy this...I really wish I could say I’d update on a regular day weekly, but as of right now I don’t get much time to write. So please be patient!  

**I’d like to thank (profusely) @faithperry46  for being my life-saver/beta reader.  I wouldn’t/couldn’t have done this without your help!**

Here we go...

-----          

Claire chuckled to herself, hearing the vacuum come on downstairs again. Every morning, without fail, the older lady who lived downstairs turned it on...to hoover her back patio. Living on the first floor, she was granted a small back garden - one Claire was envious of. Though she didn't think she'd do much but sweep her patio with a broom.  

Claire pushed open her kitchen window and held her breath, wondering if he'd be here at his window today. Claire figured this was her favorite way to start her days: a small chat with her mysterious, yet lovely -and stupidly handsome,- neighbor, Jamie. 

Claire hid a grin when she spotted his curly auburn hair. 

"Poor woman. Shall we buy her a broom for Christmas?" He joked, greeting Claire with his unassuming smile. He gave her a wink - if it 

could be called that, seeing as he couldn't wink correctly but instead closed both eyes in a humorous attempt.  

Claire smiled properly this time, calling to him as she rested her elbows on the window sill. 

"She's going to break that thing soon enough. I'll get the dustpan if you'll get the broom?" she offered with a laugh. It was only May, but who was Claire to say it was too early to start Christmas shopping? Especially if she could do it with Jamie.

"It's a deal. We can present it to her together." Jamie smiled at her, and Claire as per usual, panicked, swatted her face with her hands while mumbling something about a bug before excusing herself. 

"I've got to run just now, but we can work out the details later. See you soon!" 

She shut her window as she heard him respond with a friendly 'Have a good day, Claire!' 

She didn't truly need to be anywhere for another half hour - her shift at the hospital started an hour from now, but she just couldn't talk to him for long. She'd get all flustered, and was terrified she'd say something completely stupid and ruin what they had. Claire had never met the man in the flesh, but she was completely enamored with him...or his face rather, since that was all she could see from her window.  

She loved his stupid wink, his big smile that nearly met his slanted eyes as he greeted her when they saw one another. She had no idea if he lived alone, but she was certain that someone that handsome had to have a girlfriend at the very least. Or a boyfriend, perhaps. He certainly had no need of anything more from her than a quick morning chat... or else it would've happened already - that's what she told herself six months into their weird connection. Her erratic schedule at the hospital kept her from seeing him every morning and explained why they'd never met in person. 

Their relationship never ventured much further than chatting about their mutual source of amusement: their elderly neighbor with the hoovering obsession. They chatted here and there about happenings in their respective days: 'You got a haircut!' She'd say, noticing his hair was slightly shorter. He'd nod, pretend to preen, and run his hands through his hair with a laugh. 

He had no idea what that did to Claire. She was sure her cheeks went pink whenever he was even slightly flirty. She'd lose the ability to concentrate, to speak, so she'd excuse herself in some clumsy way and go about her day with him swimming around in her imagination. She'd fantasize about knocking on his door, asking him for coffee, laughing over a shared joke that didn't have to do with their neighbor, Jamie kissing her dumb as his hands roamed her back for her bra strap... 

Sometimes she got carried away.

---

Claire got to work, noticing that her favorite co-worker, Lesley, was already there. Claire saw Lesley's toddler's car seat in the back, knowing it hadn't been a fun morning at her house. Lesley had a two-year-old son named Harry who Claire enjoyed, but Lesley's ex-husband Frank wasn't always in a helpful mood. So, this morning -like a lot of mornings,- the two-year-old was brought to the hospital child care center instead of staying home with his father.  

Claire sighed, shaking her head on Lesley’s behalf. Claire remembered when she’d gotten married to Frank and when she’d had her son - Lesley had thought she had it all. "But look," Claire thought, "it all fell apart at her feet shortly after it began." 

"I’m better off by myself. Only me to worry about.” It was her mantra of sorts, and Claire had convinced herself it was true. 

She got to her floor, put her stuff in her locker, and slowly shuffled to her station as she wondered what her day would bring. Lesley was there, as expected, riffling through some files as she smiled at Claire in greeting. Lesley was slightly shorter than Claire, with medium-length blonde hair Claire was sure wasn’t entirely natural. Lesley’s down-to-earth demeanor and penchant for keeping Claire grounded in reality was, unbeknownst to Claire, her saving grace during the work day, and though Lesley had had a rough go of it with Frank, she remained, for the most part upbeat - something Claire struggled with at times. Always there to lend an ear, Lesley was invaluable to Claire, and she was happy to return the favor whenever possible.

“Here you go, Lady.” Lesley said as she handed Claire a bright red folder with a name Claire couldn’t read on the side. “New admittance - a 72-year-old woman had a stroke and is in for observation.” 

Claire worked on the cardiac floor and enjoyed it... for the most part. The majority of her patients were older men and women, and she found them easy to talk to. She knew she could offer them some comfort and help during their stay.  

Grabbing the folder, she headed to her first room and started her day. 

---

Claire’s lunch left much to be desired - leftover Chinese food that had Lesley crinkling her nose. 

“How old is that, Claire?”

“I'm not sure. A few days…” 

“It doesn’t smell right.” 

Claire watched as Lesley’s mouth formed a frown. Lesley had her own lunch - a fresh salad with grilled chicken and cashews. 

“We can’t all be chefs, Lesley,” Claire said as she took a bite of her Kung Pao chicken. She made a face, struggling to swallow. Perhaps she should’ve thrown it out - but it was all she’d had to bring today.

“You live alone, Claire - you can cook all you want! I have to make my lunches once Harry has gone down for the night. After folding all of the laundry and scarfing down what’s left of dinner.” Lesley took a bite of her salad and chewed slowly as Claire shook her head. 

“I don’t know how you do it,” she said quietly, pushing her fried rice around with her fork. “I could cook, I suppose,” she continued, thinking about the ingredients in her refrigerator. Those consisted of a block of parmesan cheese, a bottle of orange juice, and a small pint of milk. “I could make...well, not much at the moment, but…” Claire, wanting to change the subject from her nonexistent domesticity, decided to bring up Jamie.

“I think he must have a girlfriend,” Claire said, deciding to throw her lunch out and buy some peanut butter crackers from the vending machine. As she fished for some coins in her purse, she continued. “I mean, he’s gorgeous...surely he’s taken. You know I have no luck, Lesley.”  

“Well, Claire,” Lesley began, sounding unsure about her next statement. “Do you...try?” 

Grabbing her crackers from the slot at the bottom of the vending machine, Claire whirled around, brows knitted and mouth in a scowl. 

“I do try,” she said, opening the crackers and stuffing one in her mouth. “I just figure he’s not worth my time,” she mumbled, spraying crumbs over her shirt. She brushed them off, shrugging. 

Lesley rolled her eyes, then set them on Claire, giving her a pitying, yet frustrated look. “You don’t know anything, Jon Snow.”

“It’s ‘You know nothing…’” Claire corrected, ignoring her comment. “Look how it worked out with Frank. You’re not exactly a great example of romance gone right.” Claire felt somewhat guilty when she saw Lesley’s face fall for a second, but the conversation was cut short by the clock. Time to get back to work.

“Just give it a go, Claire - the worst that could happen is that he is involved with someone else. You don’t know unless you ask.” Lesley gave her parting advice before they headed out of the lunchroom. 

Claire believed that the idea of knocking on his door and asking him about his relationship status was a little too much to ask of her. She’d talked to him - flirted even, and still...nothing. Nothing good could come of her asking him out, she decided. Only mortal embarrassment, and the unfortunate circumstance of having to live under someone who’d turned her down. No, thank you. 

Claire managed to push down all her thoughts about Jamie and get through her shift, and was relieved to plop down on the bus seat that would take her home.

Getting home, she eyed Jamie’s door, craning her neck in the stairwell to get a glimpse of the bright red door identical to her own, except he lived at 3C, she at 2C. 

"No sign of life," she sighed, hitching her purse and bag higher up her shoulder as she made her way to her flat. Her phone buzzed as she went in, tossing her bags on the entry table and reaching to dig into the depths of her purse for the offending object. She didn’t want to answer it, but she saw it was Lesley, so she swiped up, putting it to her ear with some trepidation.

"Please don’t ask me to babysit. Please, please," she begged silently as she heard Lesley begin to talk. She didn’t not like Harry. He was an adorable child and didn’t cause much trouble when he was here, but she had been looking forward to a much-needed day off work, and babysitting a toddler hadn’t been at the top of her agenda.

"…so anyway, I know it’s your day off,” Lesley said, and Claire groaned inwardly, covering the phone with her left hand. “But I’m just stuck, and I thought...maybe you’d help me out?” 

Claire gave a pained smile, even though Lesley couldn’t see her, rubbing her hand through her hair as she sighed. 

“Sure, Lesley, you know I will. It’s no trouble. Just drop him by in the morning.” 

Claire hung up, trying not to feel irritated by the prospect of watching a two-year-old all day. She had no plans, really, except to vegetate in front of the television, devouring Netflix true crime shows. But it sounded so good. Pizza delivery, maybe pull out her untouched bottle of whisky from some Christmas past...

"Oh well, she thought, I’ll just get through it. I’ll have another day off eventually." She thought. It then registered that she was due to work some night shifts coming up. "Oh... fun," she groaned to her empty apartment.  

Claire glanced at her ceiling when she heard footsteps upstairs. Jamie was home. What was he doing tonight, she wondered. Was his girlfriend over? Did he have a date, or was he, too, looking at an evening of solitary drinking?

Claire nearly jumped out of her skin when her doorbell rang. She shuffled to the door, warily looking through the peephole. She wasn’t in the mood for visitors. 

Puzzled, she saw a young teenager standing there holding a plastic bag, marked with a local restaurant’s logo. He wore a bright red hat, had more zits than craters on the moon, and he bore a scowl. Slowly, Claire opened the door, knowing she hadn’t ordered anything.

“Did you order this, lady?” the kid spat, holding the bag out to her, desperate to unload his delivery and get out of there. 

“Er...no...What’s the address?” 

“I don’t know, It’s smudged. I’m just...working my way around.” The kid shrugged, still holding out the bag.

“Well...I didn’t order it. Sorry. Try upstairs. Above me, perhaps? I know my neighbor just got home.” 

The kid sighed, drawing the bag away from Claire. He didn’t say anything, but slowly turned around and, swinging the bag around in a wide arc, growled as he started to make his way up the stairway. Claire waited at her door, hearing the delivery attempt upstairs. 

Hearing Jamie’s voice, she put her face in her palm, frustrated with herself. She could’ve made that delivery. She could’ve been standing in front of him now, complete with food. They could’ve eaten dinner together, watched a movie, somehow become entangled on his bed… 

Shut up, Beauchamp! 

She grabbed her phone, dialed to order a pizza, and slumped on the couch, resigned to her fate as a spinster, alone in front of Murder by Numbers for yet another evening. She folded her arms, brows knit, imagining Jamie upstairs with the girl he definitely had over. Why couldn’t she be hopelessly in love with someone at work, someone she saw every day? Someone she’d seen the bottom half of? That would make it easier. She always imagined Jamie as being about her height, but she could tell just from what she’d seen of his arms that he worked out. When he wore the sleeveless t-shirts, she always marveled at his biceps and had recurring dreams about them draped around her waist. 

She also knew he was a Scot, a transplant from somewhere north. She wondered if he ever wore a kilt because she figured she’d pay good money to see it. Oh, she was pathetic, she knew, but she didn’t care when she was alone in her thoughts. She wondered if it would do her good to get a cat. Perhaps then she wouldn’t do so much daydreaming. Surely it wasn’t healthy.

[shuadotcom]

Worth It | KTH

✦ Pairing: Taehyung x Female!Reader ✦ Genre: Old West AU, angst ✦ Word Count: 1.4k ✦ Rating: PG15 ✦ Warnings: Mention of sex but nothing detailed. ✦ Summary: Even though he knows he’ll lose you one day, Taehyung knows that being with you is worth it. ✦ A/N: Written for Bangtan HQ’s Bangtan Rodeo Drabble game. Thank you to the lovely @oceanmilks​ for submitting the prompts: “Taehyung! Motel/Inn! Bartender! 07. “Just ‘cause trouble comes visiting don’t mean ya should offer it a place to stay.”🖤

“You’re gettin’ married soon,” Taehyung said it more to himself than anything. The guilt that washed over him after making love to you was always immediate and heavy.

“You don’t gotta remind me. I didn’t forget.” Your voice was small as you spoke. Your hands were gripping the sheets that you held up over your bare chest.

“We have to stop,” he said that every time and every time, he believed it even though it never happened.

“I don’t want to stop seeing you and you don’t want that either. You’re the one who started this whole thing remember?”

“Don’t go blamin’ this on me. You’re the one who came in and needed help. You needed to get away from your pa and I gave you a place to stay the night.”

“And I’m thankful for that, but you kissed me first and now here we are.”

Taehyung took a deep breath, not wanting to fight. You would be gone soon and he didn’t want a yelling match to be one of his last memories of you. He didn’t regret kissing you that first night he met you and would do the same all over again if he was given the chance.

He got up first and pulled his clothes back on. You stayed under the sheets, staring at the ceiling lost in your thoughts. “Make sure you leave soon. Folks’ll get suspicious.” He left the room after that, making sure no one was in the hallway to see him leaving. Downstairs, the saloon was nearly empty save for a few men huddled around a table playing cards.

Taehyung rolled his sleeves up and joined his brother Namjoon behind the bar who was wiping out a few glasses. He could feel the older man’s eyes on him, itching to say something. Namjoon was the only one who knew about the two of you, which was still one person too many for Taehyung’s liking.

“Tae-”

“Don’t.”

“I’m worried about you,” Namjoon continued. “How long are you gonna keep sleepin’ with her? If her pa finds out-”

“He ain’t gonna find out.” Taehyung snapped, his tone harsh. Namjoon always had a similar lecture to bombard Taehyung with whenever the two of you met. When you had walked through the doors of the inn all those months ago needing a place to sleep, he didn’t hesitate to put you up. Namjoon had been hesitant, knowing your pa was well known in town, but the second Taehyung laid eyes on you, he wanted to protect you. 

The sound of you coming down the stairs caused both brothers to direct their attention to you. Your dress was neat and your hair was pinned up as if it wasn’t just in Taehyung’s grip only twenty minutes earlier. You barely paid him a glance as you passed by and made your way through the front door.

Taehyung mumbled something to Namjoon about needing to go do drink inventory before disappearing into the back room, ignoring the queasy feeling in his stomach

It was only another two days when you walked through the doors again. Taehyung busied himself cleaning tables as a way to not watch as you beelined for the stairs. He waited a few minutes before following you, mentioning to Namjoon about changing the sheets in one of the rooms, which he already knew was a lie.

You were in the usual room that you met in. Taehyung expected you to have already started undressing, but you were still fully clothed and pacing around the room. When you noticed him come in, you started crying, your shoulders shaking and knees growing weak. Taehyung caught you before you could fall to the floor and guided you to the bed.

“Seokjin he-he’s comin’ tomorrow.” Taehyung recognized the name. He was the son of the rich oil tycoon your family was marrying you off to. Even though Taehyung hadn’t met him he still hated him.

“You knew he would be comin’ soon,” Taehyung mumbled. He was nowhere near as ready for this day that he thought he would be.

“I don’t wanna go with him, Tae! I don’t wanna marry some man I’ve never met. I want to stay with you,” your voice broke as you spoke. He wanted you to stay with him so badly, but there was a reason your family had chosen a wealthy man for you. Taehyung had enough money to get by, but not enough to be seen as worthy. He was a bartender and owner of the town inn and saloon that he and his older brother inherited from their late parents. He couldn’t measure up to the wealth that Seokjin had even if he worked every day straight for the rest of his life.

“Y/n…”

“Please,” you whispered, “I love you.” 

Taehyung grabbed your chin pressing his lips into yours. He didn’t know what to say, but he knew how to make you feel better at this moment. It would be his last chance.

Instead of trailing his fingers over every curve of your body and savoring his time with you, he swiftly unbuttoned your dress, letting it drop to the floor. Tears still falling, you made quick work ridding him of his vest and tie, his button-down shirt following soon after. Today’s movements were frantic and desperate compared to the tender touches you usually shared. 

Once you were both naked and under the sheets, Taehyung quickly but tenderly began thrusting into you, both of you making soft noises of pleasure. You wrapped your arms around Taehyung’s neck to bring your bodies impossibly closer as he rutted his hips against you.

You hadn’t stopped crying, but Taehyung knew these were no longer tears of fear for tomorrow. They were tears full of heartache and sorrow over losing him. His own eyes were misting over as he looked down at your face. This would be the last time he’d get to take in your flushed cheeks and plush lips parted and whispering his name.

Taehyung buried his face in your neck as you came apart together, both of you crying and holding onto one another. Gently, Taehyung pulled out of you, making you whimper. Your bodies stayed tangled together as he shifted to lay on his back and you draped your body over his. The sun was barely setting, but you still fell asleep together and stayed that way through the night.

Taehyung had known you would be gone when he woke up, but feeling the loss of your warmth next to him still made the clenching in his chest hurt even more. He shuffled out of bed and glanced out the nearby window. It was early enough that the sun wasn’t too high in the sky, but he could still see townsfolk walking around below. He wondered if you were already out of town or if Seokjin was still on his way for you.

After throwing his clothes on and locking the door behind him, he made his way downstairs to the saloon. He knew it was too early for any patrons to be in, so he wasn’t worried about being seen in his clothes from yesterday.

Sure enough, his brother was the only one he saw, sweeping the floor in preparation to open. Namjoon turned to him when he reached the bottom step and they made eye contact. Wordlessly, he pulled a folded piece of paper from his apron pocket and held it out for his brother. Taehyung took it from him and had a seat on a barstool to open it, his eyes immediately welling up at the sight of your handwriting.

Taehyung,

I may be on my way by the time you read this. Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I’ll always remember the time we spent together, but you should forget about me. Remember our first ever fight when you said I was nothin’ but trouble? Please don’t go and make the same mistake with someone else that you made with me. Just ‘cause trouble comes vistin’ don’t mean you should offer it a place to stay. Find yourself a nice girl to marry, have some kin, and don’t think about me. You deserve so much better.

Y/n

Taehyung didn’t realize he was sobbing until Namjoon’s arms were around him, pulling him close. There was no way he would ever be able to forget you. He had never loved anyone the way he did you and he wasn’t sure if he ever would. The pain in his chest had reached its peak and he felt like he was drowning in his memories of you. Thoughts of you would fill his mind for the rest of his life, but he would go back and love you over and over again if he could, even if it all ended with the same pain he was feeling now. You were worth all of it.

[wheresmynaya]

Lost in the Lights Ch.4 | Brittana

Posting early today since the Steelers game has been postponed so many times I've lost all concept of time LOL. Anyway, I get a real kick out of everyone that mentions they're a Steelers fan in their reviews. Wave that Terrible Towel for me too (I left mine in American, such a rookie mistake).

Also Happy late Thanksgiving, hope everyone had a safe holiday with lots of laughs.

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x)

It’s Wednesday morning and Brittany’s walking with Kurt to their first class of the day when McKinley High’s mascot comes running down the hall at them. They barely get out of his way in time as he continues whooping down the hallway. Students around cheer but Brittany just stares blankly, trying to understand what that was all about.

“That guy does his Spirit Run every year around this time,” Kurt explains.

“Spirit Run?”

“Yeah. It’s really just an excuse for him to run around the halls like a crazy person,” Kurt says, “You’ll probably see it again at least three more times this week.”

“You guys really go all out here,” Brittany mentions as she and Kurt begin to walk again without fear of getting trampled.

“Told you,” Kurt shrugs, “Homecoming is one of McKinley’s biggest events.”

“Small towns are so weird,” Brittany chuckles.

“They are, but I do love a good theme,” Kurt replies then gasps as he turns to her, “Have you given any thought to who you’ll be going with?”

Brittany laughs a little louder, but then stifles it when she sees Kurt look at her in confusion.

“I wasn’t going to ask anyone,” She says with a shrug.

Kurt’s baffled and stops mid-step, “What? Why not?”

“I don’t really have anyone in mind,” Brittany answers simply, “Why? What’s the issue?”

“You have to have an escort, Britt,” Kurt urges, “You’re apart of the Homecoming Court now, you can’t just attend the dance alone.”

Brittany rolls her eyes at how serious he’s making it all sound, “Why not? What’s going to happen to me if I don’t go with anyone?”

Kurt stammers, “Uh…nothing I guess but it’s not something people usually do. You’re pretty popular, Britt, why don’t you use that to your advantage like everyone else here? I’m sure you’d find a date easily if you asked around.”

“Okay fine,” Brittany smirks, “Do you want to go with me?”

Kurt gives her a look, “I’m flattered but I already agreed to go with a group from Glee Club.”

“Well look at that. I tried,” Brittany fakes defeat, “Guess I’ll be going alone then.”

“But –“

“I’ll be fine, Kurt. You said it yourself, nothing will happen to me if I go alone,” Brittany chuckles as she enters the classroom.

Kurt just sighs and follows after Brittany.

\\

The day goes on as usual for Brittany until she arrives to her Home Room class for third bell. It’s one of her favorite parts of the day; half of the bell is spent on studying and using your time wisely before everyone’s released for lunch. It’s kind of her time to wind down from all the info-intake, but sometimes she tries to get a jump on homework so she doesn’t have to do much after practice.

It’s also the class before her final one of the day which she gets to spend with Santana.

She has barely walked through the door when her teacher hands her a note saying she’s needed in Ms. Pillsbury’s office. She recognizes the name from when Santana mentioned her awhile ago, but Brittany frowns as she looks over the note.

“Am I going to miss lunch?” She asks but the teacher just shrugs and tells her to get going.

She doesn’t actually know where the office is so she ends up wandering around downstairs until another teacher spots her for looking lost.

“Hey, where are you supposed to be?” They demand.

Brittany just hands over the note like it’s a hall pass, “I’m not sure where her office is.”

She smiles innocently and it’s enough to have the teacher relaxing. Thankfully they offer to lead the way to where she needs to be without any further questions.

When she finally gets to the office, she knocks gently at the glass. There’s a red-haired woman sitting daintily behind a desk polishing off her stapler with a wet wipe. Kind of odd, but Brittany doesn’t question it as a pleasant smile fills the woman’s face upon seeing her standing there.

“Brittany, hi! Please come in,” She says and motions for the blonde to have a seat, “I’m Ms. Pillsbury, I’ll be your designated guidance counselor and college advisor.”

“Hi,” Brittany nods behind a polite smile as she goes to sit, “Am I in trouble or something?”

“No, no. Of course not,” Ms. Pillsbury assures her.

Brittany’s only a little relieved by that.

“I’ve been trying to make my rounds in meeting with all the Seniors just to make sure that everyone’s on track with deadlines for college applications,” She explains, “I have a little information on you from your old school, but I just wanted to check in and introduce myself properly since you’re new here. How are you finding McKinley so far?”

“It’s nice,” Brittany answers softly.

She doesn’t know what it is about the guidance counselor’s office that makes her feel nervous. Maybe because she spent so much time in it at the beginning of the year? She was always being checked on because of her ailing dad, it always made her feel so uneasy.

“I see you’ve been making quite the splash with the Titans,” Ms. Pillsbury says kindly, “It’s great to see a new student getting so involved. I’m sure the team is happy you’re here.”

“Yeah,” Brittany shrugs; she’s not exactly sure how to answer that especially after taking her stance on slushie facials. They work better as a team on the field but there’s still a little tension.

“So plans for college,” Ms. Pillsbury continues once she sees she’s not going to get anything else out of Brittany.

Brittany shifts uncomfortably in her seat, her hands tightening around the spine of her binder. Talking about her future like this always puts her on edge for some reason. She knows her parents – mostly her dad – always wanted her to go to college after high school, so she wants to honor that. She wants it for herself too, but it’s kind of overwhelming sometimes, especially when she feels like sports are the only thing she’s good at.

That’s not true – she’s a whizz in math and science – but does she really want to make a career out of it? She has no idea, it’s probably a good idea that she figure that out soon though.

All she knows is that GPAs are important and hers isn’t the best it could be. Her grades really took a hit when her dad passed away, but she was able to finish her Junior year relatively strong considering everything that happened. Maybe she’ll be okay?

“It says here that you’ve already taken the SATs twice,” Ms. Pillsbury notes, “Your scores are very good.”

Brittany nods again, “Yes, I sat the exam just before I moved here. I figured that I would be too focused on getting adjusted to a new school to study again.”

“That’s smart,” Ms. Pillsbury smiles, “You’re ahead of many Seniors here, it’s nice to see someone taking the initiative.”

“Yeah,” Brittany just shrugs, “I’m hoping that I can get a scholarship for playing football or something. I know it’s kind of a long shot for someone like me. It’s super rare that a female football player gets a scholarship.”

“But it isn’t impossible, I think that’s the important part so don’t doubt yourself. You could very well get a scholarship for your talents on the field,” Ms. Pillsbury assures her, “It says in your file that you’ve had scouts attend your games at your old school: one for the Florida State and another for Auburn. That’s really impressive, Brittany.”

“Thank you,” Brittany blushes. She remembers those game and how nerve wracking it was for her knowing that a win could determine her future – could determine if she were getting into a good school or not.

“I know Coach Beiste is in contact with a few recruiters and college coaches that are more local if that interests you?” Ms. Pillsbury suggests, “Maybe you’ll have some luck there as well? I know she’s quite close to the coaches at Louisville and Ohio State which are both on your list here.”

“That would be so cool, ” Brittany perks up at the prospect.

Now that they’ve moved, she kind of wants to stay close to home if she can. Maybe she’ll be able to get on Ohio State’s radar or maybe Notre Dame? It has been a crazy dream of hers to play college football at one of the top schools in the country, but she doesn’t know if she’s being realistic.

“Very cool,” Ms. Pillsbury smiles, “Well, I don’t want to take up too much of your time during your study hour so if you ever have any questions or just want to come by for a chat, I’m always here.”

“Thanks Ms. Pillsbury,” Brittany grins before heading back to class. It was a random meeting, but Brittany feels surprisingly lighter after speaking with her – like there was this reassurance she didn’t know she needed. It was completely different from the visits that she’s used to.

\\\\\

Although Spirit Week really seems like five days worth of nonsense, there is still the usual schoolwork and practice that Santana needs to focus on too. So after Wednesday’s Cheerios practice, Santana and Quinn head to the Lima Bean to get some homework done before they fall too far behind.

This year, they only have one class together but unfortunately that’s the only class that they’re caught up on. Instead, they grab a circular table by the window and work on their own things in a comfortable silence. Before either of them knows it, they’ve been there for two hours already and have gone through multiple coffees each – Santana’s on her third, Quinn has switched to tea.

Quinn sits back and goes to stretch a moment later, “I think I’m done for the day.”

Santana blinks her weary eyes, “Same. This bookwork on U.S. Government is melting my brain. Let’s pack up and – “

“Wait,” Quinn whispers and holds out her hand to stop Santana, “Look who’s here.”

When Santana follows Quinn’s line of view she instantly looks away at who’s there talking to the barista.

“We never see her here,” Santana comments disbelievingly.

“Right?” Quinn starts to smirk, “This is perfect.”

Since their talk over the weekend, Quinn’s been in Santana’s ear about her progress in becoming friends with Brittany despite Santana telling her to butt out. She’s been trying to explain that she’s not going to all of a sudden ask her over for a sleepover so they can braid each other’s hair and make friendship bracelets. It takes time, especially for Santana considering she’s not exactly the best at making new friends.

And that’s kind of where Quinn comes in.

“I swear to God, Fabray, if you do anything embarrassing I’m gonna – “

“Hey Brittany!” Quinn calls out sweetly, loud enough so that Brittany – and anyone else in earshot – can hear.

Santana goes ten shades redder and sinks low in her chair, “I hate you so much.”

“What?” Quinn questions innocently, “Friends say hi to other friends when they’re out in public so don’t be rude.”

Santana lets out a sarcastic laugh, “Bullshit. You and I both know what you’re up to.”

“I’m not up to anything. Just be normal,” Quinn whispers out quickly, “She’s coming over.”

Be normal, Santana thinks as she stifles another laugh. How can she be normal when Quinn is yelling out this girl’s name from across the café like they’re best friends? They’ve talked maybe twice and it wasn’t much of a conversation but rather just greetings exchanged.

It’s like Quinn’s just trying to embarrass the crap out of her.

Santana tries to keep a straight face in hopes that the blush fades soon. Hopefully her tan complexion is enough to mask her embarrassment.

“Hey guys,” Brittany greets casually, “How’s it going?”

Quinn looks to Santana to see if she’ll answer. She rolls her eyes when she sees that Santana’s just giving her a death glare instead.

“Going well,” Quinn replies first, “Did you just get out of practice?”

Brittany sighs tiredly and goes to brush her hair behind her ear, “Yeah. Very tiring, but that’s why I’m here. I’m so close to a nap but I still have a ton of homework to do by tomorrow. Looks like you guys do too.”

Santana remains weirdly silent so Quinn gives her a subtle kick from under the table, “So much, but we’ve just finished up. Santana and I were actually just talking about tomorrow’s Spirit Day. Right, Santana?”

Santana gives Quinn one last narrow of her eyes before she’s putting on a smile, “Right, Quinn.”

“What is it again?” Brittany asks as she looks to the brunette with her pretty blue eyes.

Santana’s breath catches before she croaks out, “Crazy Hair Day.”

“That’s right,” Brittany chuckles before she teases, “Another super original one. Have you got any ideas for what you’ll do?”

Santana feels a little more at ease, “I’m trying to talk Quinn into dying her hair pink.”

Brittany’s brows shoot up as she looks to Quinn, “Awesome!”

“I’ll probably just wear mine down,” Santana adds which has Quinn rolling her eyes.

“Why do I have to dye my hair when all you’re doing is wearing yours down?” Quinn huffs.

“Because,” Santana retorts, “No way I’m doing anything crazy to all of this. Do you know how much these extensions cost?”

Brittany laughs at their dynamic, “I mean, it totally works! You’d look so different without your usual high pony. I can’t wait to see.”

Quinn sends a stealthy glance over in Santana’s direction. Santana makes a point not to look.

“What about you?” Santana asks Brittany, “What are you going to do differently?”

“I don’t know,” Brittany shrugs, “I probably won’t comb it or something. Although, the hair dye does sound pretty cool.”

Santana laughs at Quinn’s eye-roll just as the barista calls out Brittany’s name.

“Oh! That’s me,” Brittany jumps, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Santana and Quinn say their goodbyes, but once she’s out of hearing range Quinn practically lunges across the table in excitement.

“She was flirting with you,” Quinn points out around a smirk.

Santana looks at her in disbelief, “Where the hell did you see flirting in all of that? Besides, wasn’t the point of all that to make a friend?”

“Come on,” Quinn gives her a look, “It was pretty obvious.”

“You’re delusional,” Santana chuckles.

“And you’re still date-less,” Quinn then sits up straighter, “Wait. I have an idea.”

“I already know what you’re going to say,” Santana shakes her head, “It’s a no. It’s a hell no.”

“You didn’t even give me a chance to state my case.”

“Yeah, because it’s bound to be ridiculous,” Santana replies. She glances over in Brittany’s direction as the blonde goes to sit at a table by herself. Santana pushes away that little feeling of hope before she’s turning back to Quinn, “She and I barely talk outside of class. It would be so weird and awkward, she’d never agree to it. Not to mention that it would be completely predictable.”

“Predictable?”

“Well yeah,” Santana answers like its obvious, “The only two girls nominated that are also – you know – and they just so happen to be going together? No. I’m not going to give this school any more reason to talk shit. I’m not falling for that trap.”

Quinn rolls her eyes, “What are you talking about? What trap?”

“You don’t think this is weird?” Santana questions, “A girl being nominated for King? That’s never happened before. Is it not a red flag for you?”

Quinn sits back again in her chair and sighs, “Honestly Santana, I don’t know what it is. I don’t know if she’s genuinely been nominated or if it’s something else. I don’t think we’re gonna find out until Saturday.”

Santana sighs too, “I just don’t want her to get dragged into all my crap, you know? I don’t want them to mess with her like they’ve messed with me.”

“Yeah,” Quinn nods sadly, “I know but maybe it’s different this time? Brittany’s…she’s a lovely person and really tallented. Who knows, maybe that’s why she’s being nominated? Maybe her being an awesome quarterback and leading the Titans to so many wins has distracted people? Maybe this is real? I don’t know.”

Santana bites her lip. She wishes she could be that optimistic, but she’s been burned too many times. It’s hard for her to see the good anymore. She just hopes for Brittany’s sake that Quinn’s right this time.

“But,” Quinn adds, “What I do know is that Cheerios don’t go to these things by themselves – especially ones that are nominated.”

Santana tenses her jaw. She hates all the social rules she has to follow just because of her status. She hates how popularity is everything in place like Lima. For once, she just wants to be herself but everyone makes it so damn difficult.

Still, she has her obligations.

“If you can’t go with Brittany,” Quinn starts, “Who will you go with?”

She glances one last time at Brittany sitting alone studying before she finally answers, “I’ll find someone.”

\\

And Santana tries valiantly to do so.

Once she gets home from the Lima Bean, Santana lies on her bed and scrolls through her contacts but nothing jumps out at her. Actually, it’s not the fact that no one jumps out – it’s the fact that she can’t bring herself to stoop down to that level again and go with a guy.

She can’t pretend anymore, no matter how bad she wants to avoid it all and go back to how things were a couple years ago where all she had to do was hide behind some guy in order to avoid how she truly felt. No one questioned her, no one doubted if any of it was genuine.

If she were to go with one of the many guys listed in her contacts, she would be doing just that – reverting. She feels guilty just thinking about it, but she knows it would be easier going back on what was said about her rather than actually living up to it.

Honestly, she doesn’t know which is scarier: pretending to be someone she isn’t again or finally owning up to who she really is. She just hates hearing the I knew it or I told you; it makes her feel so see-through, vulnerable. She can’t have that, she can’t have people at this school thinking they know her when they really don’t, but what is she supposed to do?

Continue to hide from the truth? Hope that everyone forgets?

Santana continues to scroll through her phone hoping that maybe she’ll find the answer to all her troubles amongst the boys’ names.

She doubts she will and that’s the biggest problem of all.

\\\\\

The next day, Brittany gets home a little earlier from football practice to find her mom helping Pete with his homework in the dining room. He instantly lights up when she enters the room and rushes over to hug her hips.

“Hey Petey,” Brittany chuckles, “You doing homework?”

“He just finished up,” Whitney smiles lovingly at the pair, “Got every question right.”

“No way!” Brittany gasp and goes for a low-five, “Mr. Smarty Pants in the building!”

Pete gives her an enthusiastic slap to her palm, “Should be rewarded with ice cream, right?”

Brittany’s brows rise and they both look over to their mom as she mimics him, “Right?”

Whitney just laughs, “Don’t you need to shower or something, Britt?”

“Showered at school,” She grins triumphantly.

“You can do that?” Pete looks up at her in awe.

“Totally.”

“Well,” Whitney sighs, “Let’s go then! Tonight’s the Bonfire, isn’t it?”

Brittany nodded as she put down her bag in its usual place by the front door, “Yeah, but it’s not until later. I’ve got time for an ice cream run.”

“Can I go to the bonfire too?” Pete asks as they all make their way outside to the car.

“Mom said no, remember?” Brittany tells him gently as he climbs into his seat, “It’ll be too late for you.”

“Bummer,” He frowns. Brittany gets in the passenger side and Whitney goes to start the car when he asks, “Will Santana be there?”

Brittany’s a little surprised that he remembered her name but answers anyway, “Yeah, probably. Why?”

Pete doesn’t answer for awhile, “Just wondering. She’s nice.”

Brittany nods, “Yeah. I think so too.”

She goes to flip though the radio stations, but Santana’s mention reminds her of how she felt seeing the Co-Captain for the first time that morning.

Like they discussed at the Lima Bean, Santana had worn her hair down. Brittany almost didn’t recognize her, she looked that different. More relaxed maybe? Who knows, but Brittany caught herself staring several times which would’ve been embarrassing if Santana noticed. Her hair was a lot longer than Brittany thought and any time Santana would brush it behind her ear or twirl the tips of it with her fingers, Brittany could smell the scent of her shampoo wafting off of her.

It was super distracting.

That scent was committed to Britany’s memory, because that scent was now Santana. Whenever she caught a whiff of it, Santana’s smiling face popped up in her head. As much as she thought that was really cool, it kind of worried her because she knew what was starting to develop and she couldn’t have that.

Crushes are meant to be on people she might actually have a chance with. Not pretty, straight Cheerleaders who could probably get anyone they wanted in the entire school.

“So are you two going together?” Whitney wonders and Brittany’s eyes nearly bug out at the question, more importantly how casual it sounded.

Is she reading my thoughts? Brittany wonders.

Pete pipes in next, “Yeah, are you?”

Honestly, Brittany never really considered Santana as an option. The girl is probably the hardest person to read and that’s coming from Brittany who is excellent at reading people…on the football field.

If Santana’s somewhere on the spectrum, it would be news to Brittany.

“Uh…no,” Brittany finally answers, “I doubt she’d want to go with me. I bet she has so many guys lining up to be her date though, she’s very popular.”

“How do you know she won’t want to go with you instead then?” Pete wonders innocently, “Maybe she’s tired of going with boys?”

That has Brittany chuckling, “Maybe but I’ll probably just go by myself and meet up with my friends. I don’t mind not having a date, just means I can dance with everyone else’s.”

They seem happy with that answer so the rest of the car ride is quiet aside from Pete singing along with the radio. Brittany just stares out the window wondering if her brother might be on to something about Santana though.

It’s probably a shot in the dark, but the longer she stews on it the more curious she becomes.

\\

Brittany’s always loved Bonfires; she likes the way the smoke lingers on her, the feel of the heat of the flames on her cheeks, how the glow of the fire has this sort of hypnotic effect. She really gets the expression a moth to a flame because she can so relate to the way it pulls you in.

She has seen Mike and Sam around, along with the other guys from the team but she makes a point to stay near the fire instead. It’s a lot colder than it was when she went out for ice cream earlier and she kind of regrets not wearing something thicker underneath her letterman jacket.

It’s not until after Principal Figgins makes a few announcements that she has to gather with the team for their grand entrance. It all seems a bit backwards since they’ve already been mingling for the past thirty minutes, but she just goes with the flow and follows after Kurt until they’re dismissed to join everyone else again. It’s then, that Brittany spots Santana hanging around the chairs she was sitting in before the Titans were called over.

To Brittany’s surprise, Santana sits alone. And like a moth to a flame, Brittany finds herself wandering over without a second thought.

“Hey,” Brittany greets with her hands tucked in her jacket pockets, “Where’s your other half?”

Santana looks away from the dancing flames and blinks like Brittany had just interrupted some deep thought, “Who? Quinn?”

“Yeah,” Brittany smiles as she sits next to Santana, “You two are always together.”

Santana chuckles, “She’s chatting up Mike I think. She’s on the hunt for an escort to Homecoming.”

“I’m sure Mike’s loving that,” Brittany laughs.

“Oh yeah?”

“Totally,” Brittany nods, “He has the biggest crush on Quinn. Don’t tell her I said that.”

“Oh, she knows,” Santana replies, “I don’t know why they won’t make it official already. They’re fooling no one.”

Brittany laughs again and thinks back to all the times she’s overheard Mike talk about Quinn like she put every star in the sky. It’s cute, she thinks, they’re cute. It makes her wonders why they’re dragging their feet if the feelings are mutual.

Her thoughts are interrupted though when she sees Santana shiver.

She’s still wearing her uniform so it’s no wonder why she’s cold but at least she has her Cheerios jacket on too.

“You guys not allowed to wear pants or something?” Brittany asks jokingly.

Santana shoots her a playful glare, “I would’ve worn my warm-ups if I knew it was going to drop 40 degrees. It wasn’t this cold when I got here earlier.”

“I know right?” Brittany agrees as she tries to use the collar of her jacket to cover her ears, “I don’t like it.”

Santana chuckles as she sees Brittany trying to hide further into her jacket, “Okay it’s not that cold. We’re literally sitting by a fire.”

Brittany just shrugs and looks back at Santana. Again, she’s kind of captivated by her. With her hair still down, falling in gentle waves over her shoulder, and the glow of the fire casting shades of burnt orange…Santana’s kind of beautiful.

Crap, Brittany thinks and goes to shake away the thought.

Instead, she goes to ask a question that’s been eating her up since her chat with Pete. Really, she just wants to shut down that nagging feeling of hope in the pit of her stomach and confirm that Santana’s already been easily swept up by some other eligible, more realistic option for a date.

“So what about your date hunt?” Brittany prompts timidly, “You have an escort already too?”

“No,” Santana’s smile falters and there’s just the barest of a crinkle between her brows as she looks back at the flames.

Brittany’s shocked by the news.

“I wouldn’t go with anyone if I could,” Santana mentions quietly, “But it’s kind of tradition that a Cheerio doesn’t go unattended.”

“This school and its traditions…” Brittany sighs with the shake of her head.

Santana frowns, still looking away from Brittany, “Yeah. It’s so stupid.”

Brittany watches Santana, trying to read what’s hidden beneath the surface but she’s at a loss. Santana can be so cryptic sometimes, her walls so impossibly high. It’s hard for Brittany to get a read on her so she just has to ask instead and hope Santana graces her with an answer.

“I take it the hunt isn’t going very well?” Brittany wonders.

“Not at all,” Santana answers with a deep sigh.

Brittany wonders what that is. The way Santana looks is similar to the first time Brittany ever saw her back at Puck’s End of Summer party. She remembers seeing Santana and Quinn sitting by the pool – she’s never seen a girl looking so sad at a party. Back then, she wanted to go over and ask her why she was so sad but that was probably the alcohol giving her a false sense of confidence.

But knowing more of Santana now and seeing her look that way makes Brittany feel kind of sad too. She’s not sure how to console Santana, if that’s even what she wants from someone, so instead Brittany tries to make her laugh.  

“Wow, you struggling to find a date?” Brittany teases gently, “There definitely isn’t any hope for the rest of us.”

“Why’s that?” Santana asks with her expression even.

Brittany gulps; maybe she’s making it worse?

“You’re just…” Brittany fumbles for the right words but all she can think of is how Pete described Santana earlier, “You’re nice. It’s kind of hard to believe that someone like you is still dateless.”

Santana looks like she’s about to laugh, “Nice? I don’t think anyone’s ever said that about me unless they’re referring to my ass.”

Brittany begins to feel flushed because well, yeah that too but that wasn’t what she was referring to.

“You are though,” Brittany assures her, “You brought me the work I missed that one time. You assigned a locker to me when Coach Sylvester wouldn’t. You brought me that awesome – but weird colored – juice when I wasn’t feeling well. Not to mention how you handled JBI before I knew who he was…”

Santana just shakes her head though the smile begs to form.

“You’re nice Santana,” Brittany tells her this time.

Santana bobs her head from side to side like she can’t decide if she agrees with Brittany.

“Well, a lot of other people would disagree,” Santana says finally, “I’ve…burned a lot of bridges in the past so nice isn’t going to cut it unfortunately. Pretty sure Quinn nabbed the last available Titan and I sure as hell won’t go with one of the Hockey players. If there are any Titans left they’re either pigs or too gross for me to even consider so that’s that.”

Suddenly Brittany feels her senses heighten and her heart rate spikes, because a thought just crossed her mind and although her head is telling her to keep quiet about it, her heart tells her to go for it. She’s caught in the middle, but then she hears her dad’s voice in her head saying, “You won’t know unless you try.”

So she decides to shoot that shot in the dark and hope for the best.

“What about me?” Brittany offers hesitantly. She feels her heart jump to her throat and it’s taking everything in her to come off cool and casual.

Santana looks at her curiously, “What about you?”

Of course she’d want me to spell it out for her, Brittany thinks with a chuckle.

“Well, I’m not on the Hockey team.”

She can see the moment Santana catches on.

“Last time I checked I was a Titan too,” Brittany continues, “And I don’t have a date.”

Santana blinks at Brittany like she can’t believe her ears, “But…you’re a g – “

“I swear, if you say girl…” Brittany laughs.

“What?” Santana stammers out a laugh too, “You are!”

“Okay, and?” Brittany asks, “What’s that have to do with anything?”

Santana shakes her head and lets out a wry laugh, “Two girls can’t go to a dance together.”

Brittany rolls her eyes at that reasoning, “Who said?”

Santana’s lips part but nothing comes out. Brittany smirks.

“You don’t have an escort and I don’t either,” Brittany explains, “From what I hear, Cheerios tend to go with Football players and since I’m apparently the only Titan without a date still it would make sense for us to go together. Unless you’re considering me one of the gross ones you wouldn’t dream of going with?”

Santana averts her gaze, “You’re not.”

Hope starts to swell within Brittany, “Well then…we’re not really breaking tradition, are we? It’s like finding a loophole. You’re still a Cheerio going with a Titan, it just so happens that we’re both girls.”

Santana takes a moment to reply but when she does, she sounds a lot more nervous than before and Brittany worries that she’s made her uncomfortable by asking.

“I – I’m just…” Santana stutters, “I’m not…”

Brittany waits for Santana to finish but she’s so tripped up on her words that she can’t get anything out. The blonde kind of gets what Santana’s trying to say judging by the look of discomfort and takes the awkward rambling as all the assurance she needs.

“Santana, you don’t have to be gay to go to a dance with another girl,” Brittany jokes trying to lighten the mood.

Santana just stiffens, “Uhm.”

“I wasn’t going to go with anyone either,” Brittany continues to ramble, “Seems like you and I are the only ones that have that in common.”  

“Right,” Santana mumbles.

“Yeah so,” Brittany chuckles, suddenly feeling way more nervous than before, “Maybe we can just go together as friends?”

“Friends?” Santana repeats. It seems like she only knows how to say one word at a time now.

“Yeah, friends,” Brittany chuckles, “You’ve heard of them, right?”

“Y-yeah,” Santana stutters.

“Okay, well all of mine already have dates and since everyone wants to put such a big emphasis on having an escort, you’re the only one left that I’d feel comfortable going with. Not that I consider you a last resort,” Brittany quickly amends, “I just thought we could help each other out, you know?”

Santana looks shocked, “Really?”

“Well yeah,” Brittany shrugs. She pushes away the doubt trying to worm its way in. She can’t remember the last time she felt this nervous to go out on whim, “So what do you say? Do you want to go together?”

“As friends?”

“Yes Santana,” Brittany chuckles, “As friends.”

“Okay,” Santana smiles and for a second she starts to act normal again, “Yeah. That’s cool.”

“Awesome!” Brittany beams.

She feels so relieved now and thinks that went a lot better than she thought but she can still sense a little hesitance on Santana’s end which makes her a little nervous. She goes to tuck her hair behind her air just to give her hands something to do.

“So…” Brittany drawls out, “I should probably get your number then? For outfit coordination purposes, you know just so we don’t accidentally match or something.”

When she sees that faint smirk on Santana’s lips, Brittany feels a little better about asking.

“Wow, you always this smooth when getting a girl’s number?” Santana teases.

Brittany instantly rolls her eyes at the sarcasm.

She’s been told that she’s charismatic and maybe a little accidentally flirty, but she honestly isn’t trying anything with Santana. She wouldn’t do anything to make her uncomfortable – she knows what straight girls are like around the not-so-straight ones so Brittany’s always cautious with how she comes off.  

Even if her cheeks burn a little, she’s glad Santana still has jokes and decides to make one of her own too.

“Don’t worry, Santana,” Brittany smirks as she hands over her phone, “If I was going to hit on you, you’d know it.”

Santana blushes hard but Brittany just misses it as Santana fishes out her phone from her bra, “Here. Let me get your number too.”

\\\\\

By Friday, word surprisingly hasn’t gotten around that Santana is going with Brittany. She knows she hasn’t told anyone – not even Quinn yet – so Brittany must’ve been staying quiet too. She’s kind of thankful for that, even if she didn’t explicitly tell Brittany not to.

But that isn’t the only thing she hasn’t explicitly told Brittany.

“Santana, you don’t have to be gay to go to a dance with another girl.”

Brittany’s words flash in Santana’s head like warning lights. She doesn’t know why she’s surprised by the statement; they’ve never talked about her sexuality before. Then again, it’s not something she loves to bring up in casual conversation nor is it something she flaunts.

She’s just shocked more than anything that Brittany doesn’t know yet considering how invasive everyone is at school.

\\

Santana’s in the locker room with Quinn getting ready for the Pep Rally when she finally tells her best friend the news.

“So I found a date,” Santana mentions before the rest of the squad joins them, “Well technically, the date found me.”

Quinn perks up, “Who?”

She can barely contain the smirk when she looks over at Quinn, “McKinley’s star QB.”

“No way!” Quinn gasps. A wide smile fills her face and makes her cheeks bunch, “That is so great, Santana. This is happening so much faster than I thought! God, I’m so surprised. Mike told me that she wasn’t going to go with anyone. I wonder what made her change her mind? Wait, what changed your mind?”

Santana wonders that too and a little part of her holds out hope that it was because she told Brittany she was having trouble finding a date. That gets Santana thinking; she couldn’t find a date because she didn’t want to go with a boy – and now the only girl at school that’s an option for her thinks she’s straight.

The fucking irony.

“So there’s just one small problem,” Santana notes without answering Quinn’s questions.

“What?”

“She…doesn’t know,” Santana says cryptically.

Quinn’s confused, “Doesn’t know what?”

“You know,” Santana prompts then goes to whisper, “She thinks I’m straight.”

Quinn’s jaw drops, “Wait. What?”

Santana just nods.

Quinn shakes her head, “No seriously, what?”

“I don’t know,” Santana says as she slumps down on the bench next to Quinn, “Is it weird that I’m disappointed? I mean, I know I don’t smell like a golf course or wear flannel 24/7 but like…really? I thought everyone knew by now?”

Quinn’s at a loss too, “The one time your reputation doesn’t come through for you.”

Santana let’s out a bitter laugh at that and looks to the floor, “What’s the point of being outed to literally everyone in this whole fucking town if I still have to come out to people myself?” Santana feels a lump instantly lodge itself in her throat and it becomes impossibly hard to swallow back. Her eyes feel hot and stingy, “They did it for me once and now that it would actually benefit me, no one wants to say anything? I thought people here loved talking shit about me behind my back? Where are they all now?”

She doesn’t notice that streams of tears have begun to run down her cheeks until Quinn’s wrapping an arm around her. Santana’s vision blurs as the sobs hit her hard. She hasn’t let herself cry about what happened in so long, maybe that’s why she broke so quickly at its very mention? She’s glad they’re still alone though, she’d hate for the rest of the squad to see her like this.

“Santana,” Quinn tries but it’s the only thing she can get out right now. She doesn’t know what to say that’ll make this go away so she just holds Santana upright and keeps her steady.  

“I’m fine. It’s fine,” Santana stammers as she takes a deep, shaky breath. When she finally believes her own words, she pushes to straighten up so she can wipe her face.

Quinn looks at her worriedly before she turning away so that Santana can continue to calm herself down. She knows how Santana gets when she fusses over her, so she tries to give her some space.

“I thought I could make jokes about it,” Santana mentions awhile later, “I guess I’m not ready yet.”

“It’s okay,” Quinn smiles apologetically. She waits a moment before suggesting, “Maybe look at it as a positive? Brittany’s one person you get to come out to on your own. You can do it however you want and I’m sure she’d be very understanding.”

That actually calms Santana a little. She thinks about her abuela and how she was the only person she came out to on her own terms and it completely blew up in her face. But with Brittany, she knows it would be different. She knows Brittany wouldn’t shut her out.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Santana nods, “I can control it this time.”

“Exactly,” Quinn gives her a pat on the knee, “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up. The girls will be here any minute.”

\\

When the Cheerios take to the gym, they do their usual routine of getting the crowd hyped up for Principal Figgins as he goes through with the usual announcements and Fall teams introductions. It’s all business for Santana as she works the crowd – that is until the Titans are called out and she feels something shift.

Brittany leads the team while wearing that award winning smile of hers. The rest of the guys pump their fists and cheer, motioning for the crowd of students to get louder as they spread out and get people amped up for their performance with the Cheerios.

It’s nothing special; the Cheerios and the Titans do something together every year for the Homecoming Pep Rally. It’s usually the same routine since it’s easier for the Titans to follow along when all they have to do is pair off with a Cheerio and groove to the music.

Santana sees the Hockey guys sulking off to the side – no one ever gets that loud when they are announced – and she finds herself smirking at how pissed they look. For a team that sucks so bad and swears that Hockey rules the school, they rarely get any applause that isn’t forced.

Brittany then surprises everyone by doing a no-handed cartwheel and it has the crowd in awe. Even Santana’s jaw drops a little as she watches Brittany stick the landing in one smooth motion before skipping over to stand next to her.

“Impressive, Pierce,” Santana comments as she shakes her pompoms.

Brittany lifts her shoulder as she moves easily to the rhythm of the song, “I use to do gymnastics.”

“Of course you did,” Santana chuckles as she keeps up with the choreography, “Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Recite the alphabet backwards, parallel park, color in the lines…” Brittany lists playfully.

“Very funny,” Santana rolls her eyes. She goes to do a high kick before she’s dancing again next to Brittany, “You ready for the game tonight?”

“Totally,” Brittany nodded resolutely, “Should be fun. Are you?”

Santana lifted her shoulder similarly to what Brittany did before, “I’m interested to see how you do. We haven’t won a Homecoming game in years, so...”

Brittany giggled, “Well, I work pretty well under pressure so...”

Santana smirked as the routine ended, “We’ll see.”

\\\\\

To say that there’s a lot of pressure on Brittany to bring in a win is an understatement. After everything that happened with her stance on slushie facials and the way she spoke so highly of herself when it came to winning, Brittany kind of dug herself a hole. Not that she would take back anything she said – she was very serious when she vowed she could take the Titans to the Championships.

She knows she can, that’s why she’s so confident about it.

It’s just whether or not a select few members of the team are going to get with the program so that they can really start to thrive, because no matter how good she is – one person doesn’t win games.

There’s still Karofsky and Azimio being absolute pains in her ass then there’s Finn with his need to remind Brittany of every little thing that’s never been done purely because no one’s ever tried making any changes.

People here are just so set in their ways – happy to carry on with their so-called traditions although they suck. She can see the subtle changes in others on the team though – like very, very subtle changes – so she’ll take that as progress for now.

\\

The game against the Westvale Wizards ends up being a complete blow out. The Titans crush the Wizards in every aspect; so much so that Brittany started to feel a little bad about the score differentiation.

Home: 28 Away: 3

She doesn’t feel that bad though because she broke many personal records tonight and that’s bound to get some media attention. Not that it’s what she plays for, but her meeting with Ms. Pillsbury has her thinking about scouts and her future. She hopes she’s enough to grab their attention.

Westvale didn’t offer too much competition compared to going up against Carmel High, but a win is a win. It’s just what the team needs for morale and it’s a great way to end Spirit Week and put everyone in a good mood for the Homecoming Dance. Apparently, the last time the Titans won a Homecoming game was nearly six years ago so it’s yet another record Brittany gets to claim as they move on to being 6-1.

\\

After giving out handshakes to the other team, Brittany makes her way off the field for some water and finds Santana lingering by the sidelines along with the other Cheerios. The rest of them are getting packed up but Santana’s just watching Brittany as she draws near.

Brittany sees her holding a green Gatorade cup in her hand and it puts a smile on Brittany’s face.

“Well, you didn’t disappoint,” Santana says once Brittany’s close enough. She hands the cup over to the blonde, “Great game, Pierce.”

Brittany’s smile grows as she sets her helmet down on the bench so she can take the drink, “Thanks. It was a team effort.”

“And always so humble too,” Santana notes with a chuckle.

“Really couldn’t have done it without your amazing cheers though,” Brittany winks just before she nods over at the squad, “Great stuff.”

Santana looks behind her and shrugs, “It was a team effort.”

Brittany can’t help but laugh at that, “Of course.”

Santana can be so damn cute sometimes without even trying – at least, Brittany doesn’t think she is. Really, Brittany can’t understand how she got so lucky with getting to be Santana’s date. Well, not her date date.

Brittany’s pretty sure that’s off the table.

She’s just honored that she gets to go with someone she genuinely likes to be around. It’ll be cool to hang out with Santana in a different setting other than Miss Holliday’s classroom or practice or in passing in the hallways.

Which reminds her…

“So about tomorrow,” Brittany mentions a little timidly. She plays with the paper cup in her hand, “Did you want to meet there? Or I can pick you up if you want? You’ll have to text me your address. Although, fair warning: I’m not very good at directions. The whole in 300 feet turn left thing always confuses me like how am I suppose to know how much that is…” Brittany pauses when she sees Santana start to raise her brow, “I’m rambling, sorry.”

Santana chuckles, “How about I pick you up at yours? I already know where you live anyway.”

Brittany nods, “Okay, yeah.”

“Doors open at 7:30,” Santana mentions, “I can come by around 7?”

“Yeah,” Brittany grins, “That sounds good to me.”

“Cool.”

“Yup.”

“Yo Pierce!” Mike calls out to her from where the team has started to gather for a post-game huddle, “Get over here!”

Brittany tosses up her hand in a wave before turning back to Santana, “Sorry, I better get over there. Thanks again for the drink.”

Santana just nods, the same small smile playing at her lips.

It makes Brittany smile too and for a second it makes her trip up on her words, “Uh…so I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

Santana nods again, “Yeah, text me. Congrats on the win again.”

Brittany’s smile widens before she’s jogging over to the huddle. She wasn’t all that jazzed for the dance at first, but now that she’s going with Santana she starts to feel the excitement build.

Now, she can’t wait for tomorrow night.