#after all the bad lucks with previous banners

[dollya-robinprotector]

Me, going into the Summon Room after two days of starving myself: "Maybe if I get the Servant I want then I would finally want to try and eat something! Haha just kiddi-"

FGO gacha god: "For fuck sake here's your two whores with very luxury rainbow sparkles now go eat you fucking donkey!"

[3amfanfiction]

Darling and John Meet

Synopsis: Let's go back to the beginning and find out how Darling and John met. Did she go with her kidnapper willingly or was she snatched off the side of the road? 18+ smut, MDNI AN: This can be read as a standalone but technically takes place before this story. cw: Kidnapping, dubcon/noncon, spanking, threat of pain, hints of stockholm in the beginning section. Banner by @/cafekitsune

First || Previous

You weren't sure how long you'd been here. Time passed weirdly.

His name was John.

You were only allowed to call him Sir though, never John. Remembering how you were taught that lesson in the beginning made you swallow subconsciously, phantom aches plaguing your body even after all this time.

But at least it was something—that you knew he was a real person, with a real name, outside of this little house he kept you in. Something that reminded you there was a world outside even if you never got to see it again.

He was strict in the beginning when you were first brought to your new home. You didn't know the rules and he lost his patience frequently. It had been a while since you needed true correction from him, but it was always a looming threat.

He kept you healthy while you were here—made sure you ate and always snuck you a little treat with dinner if you had been good. He made sure you knew you were his Darling girl and how much he loved you. How perfect you were for him.

It was such a load of shit considering he wouldn't let you leave.

///

You thought your day couldn’t get any worse when you heard the thump thump thump of a flat tire as you were driving down the road. It was early evening and you hadn’t seen another vehicle for a while.

The sun was already starting to set despite the early hour, winter tightening its grip slowly if the chill in the air had anything to say about it. You shivered as you climbed out of the car, wrapping your too-thin jacket tighter as you crossed your arms trying to retain some heat. Walking towards the back you saw the thing you were dreading. A completely flat tire, not even enough air to drive on to get you to the next service station.

Of all the luck.

There was nothing for it, you guessed. It certainly wasn’t going to change itself.

Moving around to the trunk you pulled out the tire changing kit. You hadn’t ever had to change one before but surely it couldn’t be too difficult. You unscrew, take the tire off, put the new tire on, re-screw. Common sense would get you through this, you thought, trying to burgeon your spirits with forced cheer. It’s not going to be so bad, you’ll see.

With a forced pep in your step you lay the kit beside the tire, looking at what you had to work with. You were just reaching for the jack when you spied headlights coming down the road. Not wanting to accidentally be sideswiped, you stood up and moved to the back, stepping a few feet away from the road in order to give the other driver plenty of space.

You were surprised when the headlights slow, pulling in to park right behind you. You raised a hand to shield your eyes, squinting through the glare as you tried to see who was climbing out of the dark blue pickup.

“Need a hand?”

Oh, he was a handsome one.

A unique beard covered his face, emphasizing the allure of the man standing feet from you. A flannel shirt covered his bulky body with the sleeves folded up his forearms, showcasing a thick dusting of dark hair all the way down, under his watch to his square knuckles. His pants hugged his thighs in a way that had you swallowing before you pulled your eyes back up to his, warming at the mirth showing in his blue gaze.

“I don’t suppose you know how to change a tire?” you asked with an apologetic smile. It seemed your day was turning around.

///

Sitting in his truck, you were thankful for the warm air blowing strongly from the vents. When John started the truck one of the first things he did was point all the vents firmly towards your side of the cab and turn the fan on high.

You were appreciative that he was so thoughtful, especially after the mess with your tire.

John hissed in pain, yanking his hand back quickly from where it had smacked into the tire, the wrench snapping off the bolt and clattering to the ground. He pulled his hand back to look and you saw the blood welling from his scraped knuckles.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I don’t think this tire is coming off with what we have here. You’re going to have to get into town and have someone come out to change it.” He gave a little frown in disappointment at not being able to help you out.

When you tried to thank him and let him go on his way he promptly shut down that conversation and convinced you to let him take you into town. “It wouldn’t be right to let such a pretty woman sit out on the side of the road at night,” he’d said.

He was startling persuasive because it was only a short while later that saw you sat in his truck, happily bundled in his coat and on your way down the road.

///

You first realized there was a problem when he missed the turn-off for the town.

“That sign said we were supposed to take a right back there,” you said, turning to look back at the road you’d just passed, thinking John had missed it.

“We can’t go in the front way. The storms that came through last week washed out the road and it’s still impassible. We’ll need to go past it and access it from the other direction.”

“I hadn’t realized it had stormed so badly over here,” surprised, you turned to look at him.

You didn’t notice his knuckles tightening on the steering wheel, the creaking leather disguised under the rumble of the road, “Do you think I’m lying to you, Darling?” quiet, with a hint of censure to be careful in how you responded.

“No! That’s not it at all, I promise,” you reassured, startled by his change in demeanor. John had been nothing but unfailingly polite so far so this was quite the shock. You supposed everyone had their triggers and being called a liar was certainly a common one. It wasn’t surprising John got prickly when you implied he was lying, especially after he went out of his way to help you when he didn’t need to. “I was only thinking of how bad it must have been, how worried everyone was. I hope no one was hurt,” you appease. Thankfully he accepted your pseudo-apology.

“Aren’t you just the sweetest little peach, worrying about them,” he allowed, seemingly willing to move past your faux pas. “I don’t think anyone was seriously hurt Darling, just a bit of structural damage along with the road. Nothing that can’t be fixed.”

And that was all it took.

By the time you realized he wasn’t taking a back way into town it was too late. You were far from town and your car, alone with a man who dwarfed you and your only way out would include throwing yourself from a fast-moving vehicle.

As you started to cry, struggling to wrap your mind around what was happening, he reached over and placed a warm palm high on your thigh. You couldn’t help your flinch away from him, pressing against the door as far as you could get.

“Well,” he sighed, as if disappointed in how you’d reacted and pulled his hand back to his own side, “we’ll work on that.”

What was going to happen to you?

///

You thought about fighting when the truck finally stopped. John climbed out and walked around to your side, opening your door just to block the exit with his body, one forearm propped up against the hood while he loomed over where you were sitting. You wondered if he was purposefully emphasizing his size to dissuade you from causing trouble.

It was working if he was.

You were still quietly crying when you looked up at him, frowning when he simply cooed at you before reaching in with one meaty paw to wipe away the tears, “Now now, there’s no reason for you to be upset Darling, nothing’s happened yet, has it?”

That didn’t bode well for you and did nothing but inspire more tears. With a soft hum he reached in to help you out, ignoring your trembling as he held your hand in his.

“Please don’t do this,” you tried again, even though you knew it was hopeless. You had tried every way possible to convince him to let you out on the side of the road during your trip with no luck. “Please. I’m not what you want, please let me go.” Your chin wobbled as you tried to keep from breaking into gasping sobs.

“Oh Darling, you’re perfect. I don’t ever want to hear that from your mouth again. Now let’s go. It’s time to get inside, I don’t want you out in the cold any longer.”

With his final say on the matter you shakily climb out of the truck, reluctant but complacent, dropping your head to stare at the ground through watery vision.

You had never been much of a fighter. You tried. You tried to be tough and to fight against the things that upset you but at the end of the day you would always be the first to fold, unable to dig your heels in the way other people seemed to do with ease. It didn’t look like your fawn response was going to get you out of your mess this time.

He held your hand tightly as he pulled you up the steps towards the house, ignoring your sniffling. You shuffled along beside him in terror-filled silence. Stepping onto the porch he turned to look at you, hand letting go of yours to grip you firmly by the back of the neck. A wave of fear skittered down your spine like an electric shock, causing goosebumps to spread over your skin as you shuddered involuntarily.

“You’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you Darling?” he asked with his chin tilted down, allowing a steady gaze to bore into your soul. “As long as you’re good, you’ll have a good life. Listen and obey and I’ll take care of you, you’ll never want for anything ever again. But if you fight me, you will learn very quickly who is in charge.”

Ominous.

You couldn’t do anything other than give a shaky nod which he didn’t seem to appreciate.

“When I speak to you I expect an answer.”

As he looked into your being with cold eyes you wet your lips before answering, “Yes,” but a tight squeeze of the back of your neck let you know what he wanted. An honorific. You knew he wanted one, you just . . . couldn’t do it. If this was your only rebellion then at least it was a rebellion. Something that said ‘I dissent. I do not want this,’ as minor of a stance it was. But it was something of your own.

“Yes, John.”

Pain.

It flooded your mind, muffling your ears and blackening your vision. Your brain rattled around in your skull, every bounce causing a new shockwave of hurt, of distress. You couldn’t think, you could only gasp.

You raised a hand to your cheek where you had been backhanded, in shock. Your jaw was dropped and you looked at John with wide eyes, unable to understand what had just happened. He was looking at you with a disappointed expression.

“I don’t like hurting you for little things like this, Darling,” he chided, “but you force my hand when you decide to be difficult.” Sighing as if you were a dog that had gotten into something he wasn’t supposed to, he continued, “Let’s try this again, shall we? Are you going to be good for me? Or do you need me to discipline you first before you behave?”

“I’ll be good,” you reassured quickly, not wanting another strike. Looking into his eyes you realized he was not going to let you get away without a title. “—sir. I’ll be good, sir.”

He beamed. “There’s my sweet girl. I knew you were perfect. So smart and so sweet for me.” Pulling you in, he ignored your squirming to press a kiss against the cheek he had just struck, his bristles felt shocking against the newly sensitive skin.

Still smiling, he led you into the house, tucking a guiding hand low on your back underneath his jacket you still wore, pinky trailing a touch too low to be fully chaste.

The house wasn’t what you were expecting. You thought it would be dark, winding hallways connected to closed-door rooms, curtains blocking out any view of outside, trash and debris cluttering up the floors and counters.

Instead it looked distressingly normal.

As you walked in, the space opened up. A comfortable living room sat to one side while an open kitchen sat to the other. You could see a handful of doors leading off the two rooms with a hallway tucked into the back wall. Large windows would let in the light come morning and while it was slightly bare, the house looked comfortably lived in.

Not at all what you thought a kidnapper’s house would look like.

John took his coat from you to hang up, “I’ll give you the tour tomorrow but I’m exhausted after today. Let’s go to bed, hm?”

You froze, every cell in your body locking into place as your heart took up residence in the pit of your stomach. Bed. You knew how this was about to go and for once your body kicked itself out of fawn and straight into flight. The problem was you hadn’t taken two steps before a fist was in your hair, dragging you backwards until your back collided with John’s chest. He shifted his grip around to the front of your throat to control you, the other slipping around your waist, keeping you pinned against him.

You weren’t a small girl by any means. You ate well and didn’t listen to the old biddies who insisted fat led to death. You were solid. That didn’t seem to concern John as he physically picked you up, ignored your flailing feet and moved you towards the living room.

You reached up and tried to pry his fingers off your throat but were unsuccessful. He wasn’t squeezing, which was shocking and relieving in turn, more just holding. You still wanted his hand gone from such a fragile area.

With wide steps he cleared the distance to the living room easily, taking a seat on the couch and holding you in his lap, chest to back. The tears which you thought were gone were back with a vengeance, running down your face in rivulets as you sobbed in his hold.

You felt him give a deep sigh against your back.

“I didn’t want to have to do this so soon, but I can’t have you thinking you can try and run away like that. There’s no one around for miles, Darling. Where would you go?” he asked the last almost to himself as if he couldn’t understand your thought process.

Letting go of your throat, his hand dove to your waist, making fast work of the buttons holding your pants up. Then, in a move too quick for your brain to understand he had you shifted onto your front over his lap, your pants and panties pulled down to your thighs, practically cupping your cheeks.

You yelped and reached your hands back to cover your ass but he gathered them easily to pin behind your back.

The first sharp crack made you scream.

The next handful of smacks didn’t lag, keeping a punishing pace if not quite as merciless as the initial one. You squealed, screamed and kicked to no avail. He simply pinned you more firmly and continued to lay his palm into your cheeks.

You didn’t know how long it was until something broke in your mind and you finally went limp, no longer fighting, just gasping great, heaving sobs with a sharp cry echoing out of your mouth with every connection. As snot, tears, and drool leaked into the couch fabric you missed the, there we go, almost there now, from above you.

You didn’t even jerk when he paused, switching from open handed hits to roughly squeezing your heated skin, dragging rough callouses over it in a facsimile of comfort.

“We’ll go easy this time, Darling, since it’s the first time you’ve misbehaved. I won’t accept you endangering yourself and you would die in the woods or the mountains before ever finding help. You’re not to try and leave again, do you understand me?”

You couldn’t answer through the sobs still wracking your body. He didn’t like this and gave a sharp little pat in the same spot as the first strike. When you yelped, he repeated.

“Do you understand me?”

“Yes—yes I understand,” you gasped out, eager for this to be over with. When he froze and you felt his thighs tense underneath you, you corrected yourself quickly, “I understand, Sir.”

His muscles softened as he continued, “Good. Now I said this one would be easy and I’m a man of my word. It’ll be 10 for trying to leave the house and 10 for fighting back instead of accepting your punishment.

Twenty more?!

“Wait!” you sobbed, distraught at the thought of your punishment (your torture?) continuing. “I thought you said easy, you’ve already passed that.”

“Darling girl,” he cooed sweetly, “those were to get you in the right headspace to accept your punishment, they weren’t the punishment itself. It’ll be 20 swats and you’ll be counting them for me.”

You almost vomited on the couch from fear.

Giving you no more time to wind yourself up, he started.

The first whip of his hand was equal to the one back at the beginning, although this time you withheld your scream admirably. When it made contact with your heated, throbbing skin you almost lost your breath, the pain was so sharp. It radiated out, up into your lower back and down into your thighs while sending a ringing thrum echoing through your head. The pain was all you could think about until he tapped two fingers softly on the spot he’d just struck.

With a wet, gasping breath you punched out a One, before he could decide he needed to start over.

He alternated between softer and firm cracks, moving as he saw fit from the crease where your thighs met the swell of your backside to nearly your lower back. You accidentally kicked out on ten when he spread your cheeks, aiming a hit at the soft skin which had been protected so far with where it pressed up against the other cheek. His fingers caught your asshole causing an electric current to shoot down your legs, making them jerk without your approval. He paused for a moment and you prayed he wasn’t going to start over or increase your punishment. He must have decided you weren’t trying to fight back because he continued on, waiting for your Ten, before giving you number eleven.

By the time he finished you were a sweating, sobbing mess sprawled across his lap with no care for anything beyond your burning skin. You must have looked quite the sight because he hummed at you in sympathetic adoration and gathered you back up into his lap, ignoring your yelp as your sensitive, impact-warmed skin made contact with the rough material of his pants. Tucking you into him he began showering you with praise.

“There we go, that’s my sweetheart. You did so well for me, taking your punishment like a big girl. I’m so proud, Darling.” He pressed a kiss to your sweaty temple and hugged you firmly, “It’s all done now, all over. I’m not upset anymore.”

You couldn’t do anything but sit there and breathe, tears slowly drying on your face as you calmed down. You were completely limp where you sat on his lap, your head lolled back onto his shoulder, too weak to even care about what face you were making.

He tilted his chin to look down at you, bristly beard rubbing against your face. With a fond smile he reached for your jaw and tried to tilt your mouth to his.

You couldn’t help the breathless, No, you let out as you turned your chin, pulling it from his grasp.

He paused and looked at you coldly, his blue eyes glacial before he gave a forced chuckle, “All right. If you don’t want to kiss me, I won’t make you. We’ll save that for when you ask prettily for it, hmm?”

You didn’t answer, couldn’t answer, could only look at him as he looked at you, watching the micro-expressions cross his face. He looked so normal. If the past couple of hours hadn’t happened you never would have expected this from him. You wondered if it was his handsomeness that allowed him to hide in plain sight. If an uglier person would have been under suspicion long before now and he would have been sitting in a jail cell as a result. What did that distinction imply of society?

You had caught your breath when you felt his hand making its way between your thighs, the tears starting up anew at what was next.

“My Darling still needs her reward though, doesn’t she?” he murmured warmly into your ear. “Good girls get rewarded and you did wonderfully for me,” as his fingers reached the apex of your thighs, swirling in the slick your body had produced in response to the previous pain.

You keened shamefully when he brought those slick fingers up to your clit, giving a soft circular stroke to the sensitive bud, “Please don’t, I don’t want this.”

“Don’t you? That’s not what she’s telling me.” He moved down again to press two fingers deeply into your cunt. The wet squelch was sordid as his fingers sunk all the way to his thick knuckles with little resistance. You couldn’t help the gasp as his palm made contact with your clit, giving you something to buck against when he curled and pressed inside of you. “Yeah, she’s eager for me,” he laughed almost meanly before giving you a rough stroke, grinding his palm over your sensitive clit at the same time.

“Wait! Wait, I don’t—” your voice broke on an Ah! as he found a sensitive spot right inside. With a smirk he honed in on it, focusing relentlessly as he built you higher and higher, whispering endlessly in your ear.

Fuck, but you’re perfect for me, Darling. Listen to those pretty sounds coming from your lips. I’m so happy I found you. Gonna keep you forever, you and me. Keep you in my home, keep you on my cock, on my fingers, on my tongue. The only thing you’ll have to worry about is when your next orgasm is, nothing else will belong in that pretty little head. You’ll let me do all the thinking for you pet, won’t you? Yes, look at that dumb expression, you like turning that brain off, don’t you? It’s okay, I’ll take care of you, I’m here now. You don’t ever have to be alone again.

With a final caress he sent you careening over the edge, tumbling end over end as the pleasure crested and carried you on a wave of endorphins. Heat traveled up the backs of your thighs through the tightened muscles of your abdomen before crawling its way up your chest. Your back arched violently, only held in place by the arm strung across your hips.

After far too short a time you came back to your body. The first thing you noticed was John petting your mons, stroking the hair repeatedly in the same direction as if attempting to make it lay flat. When he noticed you were back with him, his hand slowed before stilling.

“There’s my pretty girl. I thought I lost you for a minute.”

When you don’t respond he continues.

“Are you going to kick up a fuss if I tell you it’s bedtime again?”

You wanted to. You desperately wanted to. You just couldn’t. It was like every strong emotion had been rung out of you and you were nothing but an empty shell, waiting to be filled back up.

Even still, you couldn’t tell him you’d go quietly, choosing instead to stay silent, letting him take from that what he would.

With a rumbling hum he stood you up on trembling legs, pulling your pants back up over your hips but leaving them unbuttoned. Wrapping an arm around your waist he pulled you into his side before guiding you to the hallway leading further into the house.

By the time you reached the primary bedroom you were crashing. The trembling was becoming worse and you weren’t able to take in any external stimuli. You couldn’t even tell what his bedroom looked like other than the fact there was a bed against one wall.

Tugging you with him, he brought you to the bed and stripped off your clothes with quick efficiency, ignoring your weak, swatting hands and mumbled pleas until you were naked before him—one arm crossed over your chest while the other attempted to hide your cunt. You stood there trembling, watching him fearfully as he walked over to a set of drawers.

Opening a drawer, he rifled around for a few moments, apparently looking for the perfect shirt. He gave a soft Ah ha! when he found it, moving back towards you. Gently pulling the t-shirt over your head he treated you as if you were a small child, softly guiding each arm through and fixing the hem so it fell correctly around your thighs.

Directing you to the bed, he had you lay on your stomach. You heard the pop of a cap behind you before a cooling sensation began covering your skin, his rough hands working the lotion in.  

You wondered at your current responses. It was as if you could see your emotions but you couldn’t feel them. They had become something to pick apart, to analyze from the safety of the other side of the glass where they couldn’t hurt you. You could see where you were panicking about John touching you so close to your center but you couldn’t feel the actual fear. It was something you were observing but not experiencing.

You were only existing. In this present moment.

You observed as he began to massage the plump tissue after rubbing a gentle layer of lotion into the skin. The pain was shocking for a split moment before you felt the relief, as if stretching out a charley horse. A low monotone hum was pressed into the mattress as you fought against the sound unsuccessfully.

Ignoring his responding chuckle was simply good common sense.

You were a limp, dozing puddle by the time he was finished, uninterested in anything past sleep. Your breath didn’t even hitch as he connected your wrist to the headboard with a rope, turning you on your side to curl up behind you, one arm under your pillow and the other wrapped around your waist, tucked under your borrowed shirt to hold the fat of your stomach.

“Sleep, Darling. We’ll talk in the morning.”

And you did.

///

You knew exactly where you were as soon as you opened your eyes the next morning. You weren’t granted the relief of even a few moments of confusion to bask in before reality cruelly stepped in.

John’s hand had migrated in his sleep and he now cupped your breast, cradling it in his warm palm, rucking your t-shirt up high. His knee was tucked between yours and you could feel his erection pushing into your bare backside where he was firmly pressed against you, only his boxers separating the two of you.

You laid there quietly, not wanting to disturb this subtle peace with whatever horrors the day was about to bring. You could pretend his hand wasn’t even there when he was still. Letting your mind wander, the time passed steadily until the sunlight filled the room and John stirred behind you.

You knew he was awake when he kissed the back of your neck, pressing his lips against your skin and holding for a moment before pulling away, “Good morning, Darling,” he rasped in a sleep-roughened voice.

“Good morning,” you whispered back, frozen where you lay.

He chuckled as he flexed his hand, realizing where it was placed. With a slight shift he moved to softly pinch and roll your nipple, tugging it every so often. You ignored the shameful heat it was building in your core with every pinch.

Pressing more kisses into the back of your neck, he began to murmur, “Perfect, to be waking up with you in my arms. You feel so god damned amazing,” he squeezed you to him firmly, “I’m never going to give this up.”

What did you say to that? What could you say to that? You had a fine line to walk, being stubborn enough to hold onto your identity while yielding enough so you wouldn’t be ground down to your basest parts. You had no doubt he would enjoy working you down to the bone before building you back up in whatever fashion he saw fit.

Thankfully he didn’t seem to need a response this morning as he continued to kiss at your nape, massaging the handful of you he still held.  

You froze when his hand eventually started to travel lower, pausing to knead at the fat of your stomach for a moment before continuing down. He pulled your top leg up, giving him more room to work while ignoring your faint trembling. Once there was adequate space he cupped your cunt, holding it in his large hand. His fingers lowered to trace the damp seam with a soft caress, a gentle stroke which did more to tease than to relieve.

As he continued to brush barely there strokes against your cunt, from your lips to your clit, you were fighting with yourself to stay still and not buck into his hand. It almost ticked with how soft he was touching you and you craved and dreaded a firmer stroke in equal measure.

You didn’t want to give in to him though. It was clear what he was doing, teasing you, taunting you with what you could have if you were only bold enough to take it. If you gave enough ground to take the pleasure he offered while giving up your morals.

You tried. You really did.

At the first soft twitch of your hips he groaned a, There we go Darling, take what you need, into the slope of your neck where he had buried his face. The hot breath and his press of teeth sent a shock through your body, causing your hips to buck slightly harder.

In moments you were riding his hand, finally being touched how you needed. Soft, little panting breaths were escaping you, the occasional strangled sound escaping your throat. It was fine. You were still in control.

He encouraged your rocking with the press of his hips, taking his own pleasure from you as you worked, panting hot wet breaths into your ear, neck and shoulder as he nibbled and sucked on the skin, working to pull blood to the surface.

When you came, you did so with a low groan, your mouth clamped shut in an attempt to deny him the sound of your satisfaction. Your legs jerked out with your orgasm, back arching and chin tilting up, unwittingly giving him more room to attack your neck.

As you came down you found yourself falling limp, letting him work you through the last echoes of your orgasm with skilled fingers. You were still limp when he rolled you over onto your back, hovering over you for such an intense moment you thought he was going to break his word about not kissing you and take one anyway.

His eyes practically glowed where they were focused on your, a blue so bright it was haunting. He studied your face, no artifice in the early morning light. When he pulled back slightly you found yourself releasing a breath you hadn’t been aware you were holding, cowed by his presence, however unwillingly.

You thought that you were done. You had made it through the horrors and indignities of the morning and you could move on. You were proven wrong when he began to shuffle down your body, pushing your borrowed shirt up above your breasts.

One arm was still raised, attached to the headboard but you used to the other to attempt to shield yourself from him.

He grabbed your wrist and pinned it to your side, giving you a firm look which said you wouldn’t like the consequences if you moved it to hide yourself again.

Leaning down he took your nipple into his mouth, groaning softly at your stifled inhale at the sensation. With skillful glee he focused eagerly on your chest, switching breasts as he saw fit, never leaving a nipple unattended for long.

Your breasts were heavy and aching by the time he was satisfied, nipples raw from the suction and delicate skin peppered with bristle burn where he hadn’t been cautious of his beard. He leaned back slightly to take them in, pleased with his results.

It was when he began moving further down that you panicked.

“No, no John, please don—” you cut off with a screamed yelp as he pinched a portion of flesh firmly between his teeth. For a moment you almost thought he was going to bite it off with how hard he was sinking his teeth into you. There were flecks of blood in his teeth when he eventually pulled back.

“Rule two: you will address me as Sir when you speak to me. Anything else will result in escalating corrections,” he met your eyes with a steady gaze. “Do you understand me?”

You couldn’t do it. You wanted to fight, to dig your heels in, but you just couldn’t, you were too scared, it hurt too badly.

“Yes, Sir,” you whispered, mind racing at what an escalation might look like.

Taking you at face value he continued working his way down, murmuring into your skin, “I’m going to be tasting this cunt,” he lowered himself between your thighs, spread wide by the breadth of his shoulders, “your only job is to lay there and let me eat.”

He dove face-first into your folds, not being shy about his groans of delight at your smell and taste. Pressing his nose to the crease where your thigh met your pelvis, you heard him take a deep inhale of the space which had trapped sweat and smell since your last shower. When he dragged his tongue along the hair covered skin you twitched, surprised at how sensitive the area was to his ministrations.

Biting your tongue to keep from making any noises, you struggled to lay still when he moved to your center, nosing apart your lips to press a firm kiss to your entrance before licking a wide stripe up the slit, collecting all your slick from your first orgasm.

As hard as you tried you couldn’t fight the buck of your hips when he reached your clit and switched from a broad lick to sucking on it with pursed lips. The grunt that slipped out was quickly swallowed back. You couldn’t do much but you could at least deny him this, deny him the sounds of your gratification.

You felt him smile where he was pressed against you before he went to work, eating you out with mind-numbing focus and intensity. It was as if he was pulling every bit of tension from your body and reworking it into a coil which was twisting tighter and tighter with each pass of his tongue. You felt heat start to build in the back of your thighs, toes curling in pleasure as you fought against bringing your free hand down to grip his hair, to hold him where you wanted him.

If he had teased you slightly longer you think you would have anyways.

When you came it was deafening. Your ears only registered the rush of blood, your eyes – the sparks lighting off in your brain. Your throat was still vibrating with your yell when you came back to yourself, panting as you stared at the ceiling in shock.

He pulled off of you with a pop, ignoring your overstimulated flinch as he pressed one more kittenish kiss to your clit before moving back up. You had drenched his beard to the point it was matted down around his mouth and chin, a shiny sheen on his nose.

When he got back up level with your face, he looked you deeply in the eyes as if trying to impart ancient wisdom, “This is your life now, Darling. The sooner you realize who’s in charge, the smoother everything is going to go.”

Reaching up he untied your wrist that was attached to the headboard, “Now come on, it’s time for breakfast and I’m going to watch you finger yourself while I’m getting it ready.”

|||

Story Repository || Main Repository

[wintaerbaer]

things we don’t say: part 5 (kth)

banner credit: @itaeewon

summary: Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.

pairing: Taehyung x Reader (with some VERY brief Seokjin x Reader and Yoongi x Reader)

rating: 18+

genres: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slow burn, angst, fluff, eventual smut

word count: 12.1k

chapter warnings: jeon jungkook, seventeen is here because i needed fill-ins (also they’re not singers but their music still canonically exists in-universe so good luck figuring that one out), a wedding!, tae is WHIPPED, the infamous butt debate, jealousy (plural), jimin has terrible timing, alcohol consumption ft. a drinking game, a mega cliffhanger i’m so sorry

a/n: while not required, i highly recommend reading the prequel drabble if you haven’t yet as it has some heavy relevance to this part and the next! special thanks to @btsborahaee and @jeonwiixard for beta-ing this chapter and letting me gush and brainstorm in their inboxes on the regular <3 also, shout outs to @animeniacss and @taegularities for sprinting with me all the time (and a forehead kiss to rid for coming up with the idea for the bathroom scene, mwah)!

PREVIOUS // SERIES MASTERLIST // MASTERLIST

Read on ao3

"After today, I never want to see a ribbon ever again."

Jimin fumbles his fingers over the thin string, throwing his hands up in a huff when the slippery material resists his efforts to tie it. With Hoseok and Sunny's wedding only two weeks away, you'd offered to help out with some of the prep work, and Taehyung suggested hosting a mini prep party at your apartment as part of his efforts to make new memories since you'd moved back. True to his word, he’s been at your place nearly every day the past few weeks, cooking dinner with you and rewatching your favorite shows from high school.

You have to admit it’s been pleasantly domestic.

"It's not that bad," you say, finishing off your own ribbon around one of the tiny boxes of chocolate which will be distributed to each of the two-hundred-plus guests as a wedding favor.

"No, I'm serious. I don't even want to tie my shoes anymore. I'm a Crocs guy now."

"I've heard girls love sport mode," Taehyung quietly teases. "Is that right, Y/N?"

The flirtatiousness of his tone startles you, and your eyes snap up to meet his where he sits across from you at the dining room table. He's smiling one of those mischievous grins that makes your stomach churn, belly lurching when he stuns you with a wink before turning back to his own tiny box.

What the fu—

"If any of you show up to my wedding in Crocs, I'm kicking you out," Sunny grumbles.

Hoseok smacks his lips as he ties off a ribbon. "Does that also go for—"

"You as well, yes."

Your group settles into a momentary silence at her declaration—not a sound besides the ripple of ribbon and paper. At least until—

“I got laid wearing Crocs once.”

The entire table groans in unison, and you toss a bit of balled up wrapping paper at Jungkook's chest that bounces pathetically to the floor as Jimin boos. “No one cares about your sexcapades, Kook.”

“What, it was impressive!” he argues. “Just be thankful I'm not bringing any of them to the wedding.”

“I almost wish you were,” Hoseok grumbles. “You'd better not be picking up anyone inappropriate that night. Sisters, cousins, aunts—”

“That was one time!”

“—and anyone else even remotely close to family are off limits.”

Jungkook is quiet for a long moment, pouting to himself, before he says, “Moms?”

The table boos again, more bits of wrapping paper flying his way.

“I'm kidding! Kidding!”

“Actually, Y/N,” Sunny murmurs, leaning towards you. “I hate to bring it up, but are you planning on bringing anyone else in Jace’s place?” Her expression is one of compassionate regret, with pursed lips and a furrowed brow, but the question still hits you low in your chest, knocking the wind out of you.

“I feel terrible asking,” she continues, “but one of my friends from high school originally declined a plus-one, and now she’s asking if there’s any way we can squeeze in this guy she met two weeks ago, and normally I’d tell her no, there’s no way I can change the head count two weeks out and who is this guy anyway, but then I figured that we do technically have an extra spot so we could fit him in, but I’d definitely give you the option to bring someone else first if you wa—“

“It’s fine,” you say, trying to ignore the way everyone else around the table is now looking on in sympathy. “I have no one else to bring. Let her guy come.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” It feels like you’re dying inside, but you try to look unbothered, especially since you can feel Taehyung’s eyes on you. “I don’t mind.”

“Okay,” Sunny quietly agrees, just as Hoseok suddenly jumps in at her side.

“You know, Tae isn’t bringing anyone to the wedding either,” he says, looking between the two of you. “Why don’t you just go together?”

“I’m also going alo—“ There’s a thump under the table and Jungkook immediately shuts his mouth.

You glance at Taehyung, who’s looking back at you with a dip in his eyebrows and parted lips. It was probably a given that you would spend time at the wedding hanging out already, but wouldn’t going together mean something else entirely? A promise of dancing and proximity and a label the two of you have never shared?

Perhaps that’s the reason why he’s staring at you with a touch of discomfort. Your own skin prickles at the thought, and so you scratch away the itch at your chin and deflect.

“That’s okay. We don’t have to.” Then you stand from the table sharply, hitting your limits with this conversation. “I’ll be right back.”

You head for the bathroom, not even needing to do anything in there, but sure that you can busy yourself for a few minutes to get your emotions under control away from your friends. But as you’re about to swing the door shut behind you, a large hand reaches out to stop it with a thud, and Taehyung quickly slips in before closing the door himself.

“Tae, what are you—“

“Come with me.”

You’re practically chest-to-chest, and if not for the fact that you’ve stopped breathing with his question, you’d probably be pressed up against him in the tight space.

“What?”

He licks his lips, pulls in air through his nose like he’s bracing himself.

“Come to the wedding with me.”

The room is heavy with silence as his request fully sinks in, the air between you thick and hot as you try to get some of it into your lungs. It’s hard, though, to develop a coherent thought with him standing so close—his scent engulfing you and dark, searching eyes fixated on your expression.

“I don’t kno—“ you begin, but he’s quick to cut you off.

“Why not? Like Hobi said, neither of us is bringing anyone already.” His fingers brush yours—an apology for mentioning it again. “So why not go together and…not be as alone.”

You shift on your feet. “But you do know that you don’t have to do this. I’m fine without a plus one. There’s no shame in it for me.”

“Y/N,” he huffs. “You know that I like being around you, right?” He nudges gently against the underside of your chin, making you look at him directly. “I wouldn’t have stuck around this long if I didn’t.”

You’re still skeptical—nervous about the implications of what this would look like, especially when you just got out of a relationship. To you, it feels very much like teasing a boundary. But Taehyung is all nerves in front of you, gaze darting up-and-down your face and a tiny pull at the corner of his mouth telling you that he’s chewing on his lip.

And of course, because it’s him, you cave.

“Okay.”

He beams and, not for the first time, you feel your chest lighten at the sight of his boxy smile. “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” you say, smiling back.

“Okay.” Almost impossibly, his grin gets even wider, and you can see the wheels begin to turn in his head. “Do you have a dress picked out yet? What color is it? I can match you.”

It takes you aback. You wouldn’t have even thought about that. “Emerald green.”

“Emerald green,” he repeats, something registering behind his eyes, and he licks his lips again. “Okay. Great.”

He shifts like he's getting ready to leave, but you catch his fingers to reel him back. And you hate to put it out there, hate to even bring it up, but after everything you’ve been through, you need the clarity.

“And Tae,” you say, “this isn’t a date, right?”

He gives a slow blink, a wave of unknown emotion rippling from forehead to chin before he smiles gently at you, eyes softening at the corners. “Of course not.”

You nod. “Okay.” And a small part of you feels…disappointed?

But there's no time to dwell on it as he exits the bathroom, and you follow him out in spite of doing exactly zero bathroom things. You return to the dining room together, your friends clearly trying to look nonchalant as they diligently work on their party favors but being way too quiet to not have been trying to eavesdrop on your conversation.

“Sunny,” Taehyung says as you take your seats, looking positively brighter. “Just make sure we're sitting next to each other, yeah?”

She snorts. “As if you were anywhere else to begin with.”

Blue skies stretch endlessly in front of you, wind running through your hair and sunlight filtering in through the sunroof as you and Taehyung make the trip to the lakeside resort where Hoseok and Sunny are to be married. He's the absolute picture of relaxation in the driver's seat, wearing sunglasses and a mindless smile with his fingers wrapped delicately around the steering wheel like vines.

He'd opened the door for you when he picked you up, a seemingly spontaneous gesture that had left you both shy and blushing. But if the afternoon started with a touch of unusual awkwardness between you, the prospect of your “not a date” wedding date making itself known, it has since evaporated in the hot summer air. At this point, you’ve spent the past hour chatting, playing road trip games (Taehyung somehow destroying you in the alphabet game in spite of having to focus on driving), and burning through three boxes of Pepero.

“These are an addiction, I swear,” you say, crunching down on a chocolate-filled stick and clapping your hands in delight. Taehyung’s eyes leave the road for a second as he takes you in and grins.

“Was that the last of it?”

“Oh.” You peer into the box. Empty. “Yeah. Sorry. Did you want it?”

“No, it’s fine. You can have it.”

“I sure hope so since I already swallowed it.”

He laughs, whole face lighting up with it, and you feel something turn over behind your ribcage as if someone’s flipped your heart like a pancake. It makes you think that even though you were supposed to be making this trip with a different person, you’re glad it’s him instead.

My love only amounts to this.

The lyrics ring out through the car, and Taehyung leans forward suddenly, turning up the volume on the stereo.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s your favorite song!” he joyfully says. “I know you like to sing along.”

You stare at him blankly, taken aback because you don’t think you’ve ever mentioned this to him. When did he notice…?

“C’mon, sing with me. Play a song I know and one step. Hold my hands and put my feet in, two steps.”

His sweet baritone sounds out beside you, and you feel a grin break out across your face. You always forget what a joy it is to hear Taehyung sing.

“The person to know all my secrets is you,” you sing, joining along. “So I’m even more thankful.”

“Sometimes when you get tired, and I see you crying with your head down, I don't know what to do. What can I do?”

You’re both belting it out at the top of your lungs by the time it gets to the chorus, and you think the sun has somehow moved inside the car with how bright and warm you feel.

My love only amounts to this. But thank you for staying by my side, my baby.

Your car charges down the road, trailing laughter and joy in its wake, and your chest feels light for the first time in weeks.

Even if my love only amounts to this. I'll be your umbrella in the rain. I'll protect you on all your days.

Jimin, Maya, and Jungkook meet you in the hotel lobby—a marble behemoth with wrought iron staircases and sofas that definitely cost more than your rent—and you all line up to check in, gawking at the elaborate chandelier that hangs above your heads.

“How did they even afford this place?” Jimin wonders.

Maya sucks her teeth. “At this rate? I think they might have mob ties.”

“Feet pics,” Jungkook says simply.

Once everyone has obtained their key cards, you set off to find your rooms. You’re all on the same floor since a certain section was booked specifically for the wedding, but with you having a room with only a single queen-sized bed, you’re down the hall and away from the others who booked doubles.

While Jimin, Maya, and Jungkook break off to get acclimated in their own respective rooms, Taehyung follows you into yours with a touch of melancholy, your luggage slung over his shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re fine here alone?” he asks, setting your bag on the ground. “I can room with you if you’d like. I’m sure Kook wouldn’t mind.”

“There’s only one bed,” you point out, blushing.

Taehyung also goes slightly pink. “Well yeah, but the other week we just…or I can take the couch. Or we can ask Kook to swap rooms?”

“It’s okay,” you say. “I’m alone at the apartment all the time anyway.”

He nods, looking oddly shot down. “Alright. But if you change your mind, just ask.”

“Unlikely,” you tease with a wrinkle of your nose. “You snore.”

He gasps, feigning hurt. “I do not.”

He doesn’t. But you still tilt your head solemnly, pressing your lips together as if preparing to deliver bad news. “You do.”

“Shit,” he sighs before the two of you break down in giggles.

A few hours later, the five of you wind up at the resort’s restaurant for dinner, lamenting the exorbitant prices but enjoying an incredible meal. The night dwindles down as you settle in at the bar, figuring you can have a couple drinks before resting up for tomorrow’s big day. With a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, you have a perfect view of the lake outside and the glow of the sunset spreading out above the trees. It tints the room orange, seeping onto every surface, including Taehyung’s forearms resting atop the bar.

You trace his veins with your eyes, study the way they trail to his hands curled lightly around his low ball glass. Your friends are talking about plans for tomorrow, but you’re not paying much attention; you’re far more interested in trying to figure out when your best friend’s arms started looking like that.

“And don’t worry, Chim. If I have the chance to get lucky, I’ll make sure not to use our room,” Maya says, placing a hand over her heart in pledge. “No locking you out because I’m a good friend.”

But Jungkook has tensed up next to you, and in spite of the cute pout of his lips, the creasing of his forehead suggests that he’s genuinely upset. “Hook-up? You’re going to find a hook-up?”

Maya looks at him incredulously, drink paused halfway to her lips. “Possibly. Aren’t you?”

“I…” His teeth bite into his lip. “It’s a wedding.”

She barks out a devilish laugh. “So? When has that ever stopped you?” A spiteful glare is sent his way that even has you shrinking behind him in secondhand shame. “Since when do you have morals?”

Taehyung’s knee squeezes against yours under the bar—a warning, probably, but your brain momentarily becomes fixated on the weight of it, on how nice it feels to have his warmth pressed against you. It’s not until he taps a finger against your thigh, signaling with his eyes at the sullen man behind you, that you pass on the touch, giving Jungkook’s elbow a gentle nudge in support and encouragement. He takes a quick look at you with sad, vulnerable eyes, and you’re reminded of how flustered he’d been during your conversation a few weeks ago.

“I was actually thinking,” he begins, more serious than you’ve ever seen him, “that maybe we could go together since neither of us have dates.”

Maya snorts, setting her drink down firmly on the countertop. “Why, so you can ditch me halfway through for the first woman that flutters her eyelashes at you? No thanks.”

Jungkook physically recoils like he’s been slapped, the force sending him back so far that he practically winds up in your lap. “You really think I would do that?”

His voice is tiny, hurt dripping from every syllable, and it makes Maya finally look up, face dropping as she seems to realize the wounds she’s inflicted upon him.

Her brows draw together, and she opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by the bartender popping up to ask if anyone needs a refill. By the time he leaves, the moment’s passed, and Jungkook briskly stands up, throwing some money down on the bar.

“I’m done. See you guys tomorrow.” And he strides out towards the hotel lobby.

You hop to your feet, shaking your head at Maya. “That was uncalled for.”

She looks guilty but says nothing, rubbing a finger along the rim of her glass, and you follow Jungkook out, calling his name as he approaches the elevators.

“Jungkook!”

He spins to face you with a frown, thumbs hooked in his pants pockets like he’s trying to look casual, but his eyes betray his discomfort. “What?”

“She didn’t mean that,” you say, slightly breathless from your jog across the lobby. “I know she didn’t.”

“Sure she did. That’s who she is. Always speaks her mind.” He shrugs, shirt rippling over his shoulders. “It’s fine. I don’t care.”

“Don’t you though?” you ask. “You’re not a bad guy, Kook. You deserve simple respect at least.”

“Maybe I don’t.” The elevator dings, and he steps inside, turning back to you with a final sad smile. “Night, Y/N.”

A sense of dread taps into the back of your skull, fear that your original inkling on this relationship was perhaps correct. Though you’ve since warmed up to the idea of Maya and Jungkook as a potential couple, it was this exact tension that you were worried about—their fire and gasoline dynamic harboring implications that could blow up your entire friend group.

Taehyung strolls up next to you as the doors roll shut, sighing as he comes to a stop. “He okay?”

“No, but don’t try telling him that.”

He purses his lips. “I had a quick talk with Maya. Reminded her that just because she’s had bad experiences with guys in the past doesn’t give her the right to take it out on him.”

“Good,” you say. “She probably needed to hear it.”

A nod as he assesses your figure and asks, “Are you coming back to the bar? I already covered your tab.”

“Oh, I’ll pay you back—“

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “You can make it up to me a different time.”

You smirk at him, stepping closer. “How about I roll it into your Christmas present?”

“Deal.”

You let out a soft laugh, and he offers to walk you up, pressing the button to call the elevator back. The two of you chat about nothing in particular as you make your way to the third floor, commenting on the ridiculously patterned carpet in the halls and laughing about the strangely risqué photos that you noticed hanging in the rooms.

When you arrive at your door, you swipe your key card over the sensor, turning the light from red to green and wishing Taehyung goodnight, but he loops his fingers around your wrist to lightly tug you back.

“Y/N.” He curls his bottom lip over his teeth, head dipping towards the ground in a shy smile as he searches for his words. “I’m…really looking forward to tomorrow. It’s going to be fun.”

He’s adorable; he truly is. Seventeen years of affection, and he still finds ways to endear you to him even more, bits of gold from the lamps catching on the browns of his eyes as he stands before you.

“It is,” you say, tongue tied around your own apprehension. He hums and looks like he wants to say more—tangles his fingers in front of him and chews on his lip as he fidgets. But after a moment passes—you still stuck on his eyes—he jerks his chin down in a nod, says goodnight, and leaves you standing at your door in confusion, taking one look back as he swipes his own key card down the hall and disappears into his room.

You enter your own space with your mind whirling, not sure what the hell just happened but also sure that you’re not upset about it. And once you’ve gone through your bedtime routine and settled in for the night, you fall asleep thinking about brown eyes and shy smiles, welcoming the most restful sleep you’ve had in weeks.

You awake to the sound of Maya knocking on your door promptly at 9am with her suitcase in hand, casually making her way to your bed when you let her in and picking up the hotel menu from the side table while you stare at her. "What are you doing?" "We are going to order room service and watch some shitty TV, and then I am going to help you get you ready for your date." "It's not a date," you say on impulse, though you're internally tamping down the involuntary flutter that's tickling your stomach. "If it's anything, it's a guy taking pity on his unexpectedly-single friend." "Pity date then." She says it with a nonchalant wave of her hand and doesn't give you the chance to speak when you open your mouth to protest. "Y/N, please, just give me the chance to make his jaw drop. If there really is nothing there like you say there is, then what's the harm?" The harm, you think to yourself, is the tingling feeling that's been increasing in intensity when you've been around Taehyung recently, warmth flooding your body at just the thought of him. Your brain has been desperately explaining it away, chalking it up to years of familiarity and comfort being stoked by the emotional trauma which (you're quick to remind yourself) you're still working through. No, Y/N, I don’t have feelings for you. It's these thoughts that, in the end, have you acquiescing as Maya lets out a joyful squeal. At the very least, you make your friend happy and get some well-deserved girl bonding time. Really, what's the harm?

The idea has barely finished running through your mind when you’re already beginning to regret it and wondering what the hell you just got yourself into. Maya wheels her entire suitcase to the foot of your bed and pulls out no less than seven bags of make-up, a curling iron, hairspray, four different brushes, and a straightener.

“Are you doing the entire wedding party after this?” you ask incredulously. “Why did you bring so much?”

“Needed to be ready for anything,” she says, organizing her tools into neat rows. “When I’m done with you, every straight man and half the women will be falling at your feet.”

Your face heats, and you subconsciously rub at your arm. “That’s really not necessary.”

“Okay, then just one man.” She raises her arms, fingers arranged into a square through which she peers at you like she’s sizing you up for a photograph. “Hmm, where should we start?”

You and Maya make your way to the resort's event hall a little while before the ceremony is scheduled to begin. Seating doesn't seem to have opened yet as guests mill about the entryway, the buzz of conversation filling the space above your heads, and the two of you pause at the top of the stairs to see if you can spot your friends. "I think Kook's got a purple tie," she says, peering around. "And you know what he's wearing why?" you ask, but she ignores you. "Oh, look, there they are." Maya's goal may have been to get Taehyung's jaw to drop, but you're left stunned when you look over to where he's standing with Jimin and Jungkook, the now-familiar tingle rippling through your veins once again. His black suit is perfectly tailored, accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow waist, emerald green tie wrapped around his neck to match the color of your dress as promised. He's slicked his hair back and away from his eyes so you're able to see how they nervously dart between Jimin and Jungkook, clearly not listening to whatever it is they're enthusiastically saying. Actually, once you look more closely, everything about his body language screams nerves for some reason, his hands moving back and forth to play with the hems of his jacket before smoothing the lapels over and over again. Maya waves, grabbing Jimin's attention, and you watch as he grins at the two of you before leaning in to say something to Taehyung, pointing at where you're standing. Maybe, you think, just maybe you appreciate Maya's plan from this morning after Taehyung glances up at you. His incessantly-moving fingers finally still—halfway through re-adjusting his tie—and his perfect Cupid's-bow-lips pop open, eyes wide as he soaks you in in your floor-length gown. Maya’s worked your hair into loose curls cascading over your shoulders and bare back, and while you convinced her to not go wild with the make-up, she strong-armed you into agreeing to a deep red lipstick that’s only accentuated by the green of your dress. A smug cough comes from your right (clearly Maya's pleased with her work) as you descend the stairs and approach the trio of men. Jimin and Jungkook greet you brightly while Taehyung still looks mildly concussed, continuing to stare at you with his mouth half-open. "Alright there, Tae?" you ask, reaching up to adjust and smooth out his tie, messy from where his hands had frozen on it.

The pads of your fingers are hot where they brush against the hard muscle of his chest, and you try not to read too deeply into the pounding of his heart. Taehyung makes a weird noise akin to what you'd imagine a drowning fish would sound like, and Jungkook gives him a sharp slap on the back, which seems to knock him out of whatever trance he'd fallen into. "Incredible!" he blurts, and you almost want to laugh at the reset-button-like effect Jungkook's smack seems to have on him. He clears his throat, composing himself further. "I, um—you, I mean. You look incredible." You thank him, ignoring the second wave of smugness that comes from Maya's direction, just as the event staff open the doors and begin ushering guests into the hall. Taehyung offers you his arm, and you gladly take it as he guides you to sit alongside your friends.

The wedding hall is as grandiose as the rest of the hotel, with columns ornamenting the sides of the room and a massive flower arch constituting the altar. You all talk as you wait for the ceremony to begin, admiring the decor (the bright bouquets of red, purple, and blue flowers pop against the stark white of the venue) and trying to see if you recognize any of the guests.

“Oh, there’s Sunny’s cousin Chan,” Maya says, peering out over the room. “Remember we met him at that party one time?”

“Didn’t the two of you drunkenly make-out?” you ask.

Jimin frowns. “I thought they hooked up.”

“No, Y/N is right.” She fixes her hair, oblivious to the way Jungkook is now staring at the man in question, hackles raised. “Wouldn’t say no to that happening again; he was good with his hands. Tae, are you alright? You’re looking at Y/N like she’s sprouted four more arms.”

You swivel your head around to see Taehyung next to you, entirely flushed red above the shoulders. He licks his lips as he meets your eyes, blinking furiously like he’s trying to clear his thoughts. “Sorry, I spaced out.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Maya waves a dismissive hand, shuffling her attention to Jimin to ask if he knows about the music choices for the ceremony.

A throat clears on your right. “You do look nice. Really.” Taehyung looks utterly sheepish, his head tilted low as he softly pays you the compliment, and it reminds you of how shy he was last night as well. A butterfly takes flight in your chest, and now you’re the one blushing.

“Thank you. You cleaned up nicely, too,” you reply, and he blinks at you in a way that has you second guessing your words. “Not that you don’t always clean up nicely. And not that you don’t normally look very handsome. Because you do. Look very handsome, I mean. All the time.”

His bashfulness morphs into amusement, lips quirking up in an affectionate smile. “Oh, really?”

Your face heats up even more, mouth opening to respond with you don’t even know what, and you’re grateful when a hush falls over the room, the beginning notes of a wedding march signaling the ceremony’s start.

Hoseok appears first, looking dapper in a full tuxedo and grinning ear-to-ear. He walks down the aisle with long strides like he can’t possibly get to the end fast enough, bouncing on his toes as he settles into his spot.

The officiant is next, followed by Iseul and Seokmin, one of Hoseok’s childhood friends. Hana and Namjoon stroll in arm-in-arm after that, then Yumi and Jiho, and finally, everyone rises to their feet as Sunny appears at the entrance and begins her walk in, gaze finding only her groom.

Just as Sunny reaches the head of the aisle, a teary-eyed Hoseok taking her hands in his, another image, one which had once occupied your mind almost constantly but hadn't plagued you in weeks, takes hold: you and Jace in a similar setting, pledging forever to each other in front of your friends and family.

Maybe you had gotten ahead of yourself—the discovery of the ring box in his desk along with the natural longevity of your relationship sparking your imagination—but in the weeks leading up to your heartbreak, you had allowed your mind to plan—what kind of dress you'd wear, the colors you'd pick out, what you might say in your vows. It seems stupid now, dwelling on a future that's already evaporated into nothingness, but seeing the echoes of your dreams being played out in front of you, it’s like you can feel the sand physically slipping through your fingers.

Right as it starts to become too much, as you feel your chest tighten and heart ache, there's a brush of skin against the side of your hand, and glancing down, you see that Taehyung's reached over to quietly hook his pinky with yours. You turn to face him, but he keeps his eyes directed on the bride and groom, face neutral and unreadable, and you know he's giving you the chance to pull away, no questions asked.

But the gesture has warmth flooding through you, thawing the ice of your previous thoughts, and so you move to slip your hand under his, lacing your fingers and pressing your palms together tightly.

Taehyung looks at you then, a shy smile crinkling his eyes and twisting up the corners of his mouth, and you grin back, the previous ache in your chest replaced with a steady flutter as he begins to skim his thumb back and forth in a gentle caress.

You stay that way for the rest of the ceremony—watching your friends vow eternity to each other, Taehyung's hand tethered with yours.

Classical music drifts from the speakers at the back of the room as you find your seats for the reception. The ballroom is tremendous, with tall, arched ceilings, a gorgeous chandelier, and a wide dance floor that you’re sure will see a ton of action later. With the tables seating eight, you see that you’ve been placed in a grouping of you, Taehyung, Maya, Jimin, Jungkook, and three of Hoseok’s medical school friends, who introduce themselves as Wonwoo, Joshua, and Mingyu.

Thankfully, your group hits it off immediately. Wonwoo is rather reserved, more an observer of those around him than anything, but Taehyung and Jimin quickly strike up a conversation with Joshua about college after the latter mentions having gone to the same school as you, albeit never crossing paths. Maya and Mingyu, meanwhile, immediately fall into their own introductions, talking about how they know Hoseok and Mingyu’s studies to become a doctor.

“If you ever need a headshot or something, let me know,” Maya says, laying a hand on his arm. Across the table, Jungkook's head shoots up. “I do work as a photographer and would be happy to help.”

“Oh, really?” Mingyu makes no move to remove her hand; if anything, he shifts even closer. “What are your rates?”

“For you? Free of charge. Any friend of Hoseok is a friend of mine.” They're in their own little bubble now, Jungkook watching wide-eyed. “Besides, you'd be doing me a favor. With a face like that, you're a photographer's dream. Perfect model.”

Mingyu smirks. “A face like what?”

“Dangerously handsome.”

“HEY, WHAT DO YOU GUYS WANT TO SPECIALIZE IN?”

Jungkook practically screams it, and not only do Maya and Mingyu turn to look at him in bewilderment, but so does the rest of the table and a few guests in the neighboring seats.

Joshua clears his throat awkwardly, eying Jungkook like he might be rabid. “I’m trying for pediatrics.”

“Surgery,” Wonwoo says.

Maya turns towards her new companion. “What about you, Mingyu?”

He leans back in his chair. Gives a light tug on his tie. “I have a residency lined up in obstetrics and gynecology.”

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me—”

“Jungkook,” Taehyung says, cutting him off as he slides his chair back from the table. “Why don’t you help me get a round of drinks?”

“But—“

“C’mon.” He says it gently, like he’s trying to coax a toddler, and rises to his feet, giving you a gentle tap on the shoulder as he goes. “Cosmo?”

“Yes, please,” you say, and he nods, dropping a quick wink your way as Jungkook joins him, grumbling under his breath.

Joshua watches them walk away in the direction of the bar. “Is he always this…”

“Annoying?” Maya scoffs.

“Transparent.” Wonwoo quietly smirks.

A gentle laugh sounds on your left as Jimin hears. “I don’t know that anyone has ever described Jungkook as subtle in his life.”

Maya frowns, Mingyu looking downright perplexed at her side. “I don’t think I quite understand what’s going on,” he begins, but Maya soothes him with another press of her hand to his arm.

“Don’t worry about him. It doesn’t matter,” she says. “Tell me more about your residency.”

The reception passes in a swirl of music and drinks and food—and oh goodness, the food. Plates heaped with calamari, crab legs, and tiny filets wrapped in bacon are placed at the table by wait staff as your group digs in. Even Jungkook is placated, no longer scowling at Maya and Mingyu.

"Ughhh, I am never eating this well again," Jimin groans, stretching back in his chair and giving an exaggerated rub to his belly.

"You'd best get ready to," Taehyung says from your other side. "This isn't even dinner."

"This isn't even dinner?!"

Dinner turns out to be just as delicious and lavish as the appetizers, and it's no surprise that once dancing starts, your friends opt to stay seated for a while longer talking and digesting. As the party climbs to a full swing, Mingyu asks Maya to dance, Jimin and Jungkook start a debate on whether the butt is one body part or two, and Taehyung excuses himself to the restroom.

“It’s one part that’s split!” Jimin loudly exclaims. “The top is connected!”

“Jimin, go home, stand in front of the mirror, and pull your right ass cheek up. See if your left cheek comes up with it, and then get back to me, you absolute clown.”

“Do they do this a lot?” Joshua asks, the two idiots arguing between you.

“At least once a month.” You take a sip of your drink as you look on, bored. “I’m pretty sure this one is a rerun from last Halloween.”

“It’s one,” Wonwoo says, amused.

A flash of green catches your eye, and you look up to see Taehyung standing by the side of the bar, speaking with a woman. She's about your age, you think, and pretty, wearing a low-cut dress that certainly accentuates her chest.

She and Taehyung are talking excitedly, and you can tell he's putting the charm on—eyes bright, signature boxy smile lighting up his face. Nausea simmers in the pit of your stomach, and you force your attention back towards Jimin and Jungkook, trying to focus on whatever nonsense they're debating now.

This isn't a “date-date,” you remind yourself. And Taehyung hasn't had a relationship in a year—not since he was so torn up after Luna. He deserves to meet someone.

You’re spaced out next to your friends, still only halfway listening to them jabber on about butt cheeks, when a slow song starts up over the speakers and, within seconds, a hand is being extended over your shoulder.

You look up to find Taehyung's eyes gazing steadily down at you, a small but confident smile playing on his lips.

"Dance with me?"

And in spite of the unease that had plagued you only moments ago, you don't hesitate to let him wrap up your small hand in his large one and lead you to the dance floor. His palm settles on your lower back to pull you in close, and maybe it’s the proximity or the intoxicating smell of his cologne that weakens your resolve, but you find the words spilling out.

"Did you get her number?"

Taehyung looks at you quizzically, brow furrowing in confusion. "Whose?"

"The woman at the bar."

His face relaxes as he realizes. "Oh, yeah. I did."

"Good." You manage a smile. Why does it feel so hard? "It really is…good you're getting back out there. Are you going to ask her on a date?"

He laughs, mischief in his eyes. "I don't think her fiancé would like that." And now it's your turn to look confused.

"Her fiancé?"

"I met the two of them through Hoseok a couple times so we've chatted. Nice people." He nods his head, and you look over to see the woman now dancing with a man not too far from you. "They just got engaged, and she knows I'm a photographer so she asked if I'd be interested in doing the wedding. I said I'd call her this week to talk about it."

"Oh." You can feel your face flush, but there's no doubting the relief that floods through you. And Taehyung surely notices, grinning down at you in amusement.

"Were you jealous?"

"No!" you say, but perhaps a little too quickly because Taehyung laughs, his fingers applying a gentle pressure to your back to pull you closer.

"I'm here with you," he murmurs matter-of-factly.

You shake your head at him. "It's fine, Tae. If someone catches your eye…like I said, it could be good—"

"I'm here with you," he repeats, more firmly this time. He releases your hand for a moment to tuck a stray curl behind your ear, and you have to look away. You spot Hoseok and Sunny swaying together in the middle of the dance floor, pressed closely together and smiling at each other like they're the only two people in the world. What it must be like to have someone look at you like that, you think, to hold you like you're something precious to be cherished. You had thought Jace made you feel that way, but now, watching your friends gaze at each other so delicately, so in love, you're no longer sure he even came close.

"What are you looking at?" Taehyung's voice rouses you out of your thoughts, and you suddenly notice his hand has drifted a little higher to where the back of your dress dips down low, exposing your bare skin.

Trying to pass off the shiver that involuntarily runs through you as a nod, you gesture at the newly married couple. "They're so good together."

Taehyung follows your line of sight, watching Hoseok lean down to murmur something in Sunny's ear that makes her giggle and press her face into his chest. "They are."

"Can you imagine loving someone like that?" Your voice is a bare whisper as if the words slipped out on their own accord, like a wish you didn't even realize you were making.

Taehyung's fingers splay at your spine, gently tugging you in until your hips are bumping his. Startled, your eyes snap back to him, breath catching in your chest. He's gazing at you intently, but as opposed to the intense fire that you've seen from him at times, there's only a deep warmth to his brown irises that you're not sure you've ever seen before. He looks at you with softness, with both a sense of familiarity and wonder that can only be attributed to your many years of companionship, and you see it all swimming behind his eyes—every day spent together seeking refuge from your families, every stupid childhood fight, every time you comforted each other through the bad days. And before you can deflect, can explain away the question as a rhetorical slip of the tongue, you hear his answer come out on a breath.

"Yes."

There’s a weight to it, the word landing from his lips like a stone into water, and you suddenly forget where you are. The world around you fades away: faces, music, and noise all receding into the background until it’s just him and you, you and him.

Just like it’s always been.

Taehyung's head dips towards you as if pulled by gravity, and your body responds in turn, hand sliding from his shoulder to the hair at the nape of his neck and eyes fluttering shut. Your breaths mingle together, his nose lightly brushing against yours, and you find yourself on the brink of keening forward, on the brink of diving headfirst into a place of no return, when—

"Hey, we're going to step outside for some air. Do you guys wanna—oh."

You spring apart. Jimin is staring at the two of you, eyes so wide you're worried they might fall out of his head. His hand is still half-raised, pointing in the direction of the doors behind him, and you use this to make your escape.

"Yeah sounds good I'll come outside definitely," you babble before speeding towards the exit. Glancing back over your shoulder, you see Jimin say something animatedly to Taehyung, but the latter shakes his head and mumbles something back, his face pink.

The night air is cool on your skin, and you could not be more grateful for it because what the fuck was that?

Were you really about to kiss your best friend? Or was he going to kiss you? Things had certainly been…different between you two recently, but this surely would have been an awful idea. If something went wrong or there was a misunderstanding, you'd likely never be able to come back from it.

He said he doesn't have feelings for you.

…But do you have feelings for him?

Maybe yes, his smile has always set your heart alight unlike anything else and yes, your brain seems to have been lingering recently on how damn handsome he is and yes, you'd do anything for him at the drop of a hat—follow him anywhere—but given your history, of course you would, right? He's your best friend.

And he deserves to be more than a rebound. Because that's what this must be—lingering heartbreak amplified by the emotions of a wedding. You may have even imagined Taehyung leaning towards you, a desperate fantasy of a mind just wanting to be loved.

That's it, you decide. Your brain must have finally snapped into a world of delusion.

You're so caught up in your thoughts that you don't hear Jungkook approach you, practically jumping out of your skin when he places a gentle hand on your arm.

"Y/N—shit—you okay?" He looks at you with his big doe eyes wide and apologetic.

"Yeah," you say, as your racing heart begins to calm. "You just startled me."

"Sorry, I tried to call you, but I don't think you heard. We're back over there if you want to join us." He nods his head in the direction of a patio area behind him, and you spot Namjoon, Joshua, and Wonwoo sitting around a table next to an elegant fountain, its ornamental lights illuminating the magnificent swan sitting atop it. They’re all laughing and, for some reason, the sight makes your chest tighten.

"Um, maybe in a little bit. I think I might just need a walk right now."

Jungkook studies you, biting ever so slightly into his bottom lip, and you think you see something in the way of understanding behind his eyes (you wonder if it has anything to do with the notable absence of Maya and Mingyu). "Do you want company?"

When you just give him a small smile and shake your head, he nods.

"Okay, well…you know where to find us." He moves to rejoin the others, but then turns back towards you, taking easy steps on his heels. "And just shout if you need a friend."

You meander around the outside of the hotel, following the stone path that paves its way around the perimeter. There's a certain kind of peace out here. Though the summer is nearing its close, you can still hear crickets chirping in the grass and spot the occasional firefly dangling in the air. You focus on the swishing of the cars out on the main road and try to let the sound clear your mind, but as you settle on a short brick wall overlooking the property's enormous lake, you realize it's no use.

Your eyes drift closed as you sink into the grief once again, let it slowly overtake you like quicksand until your lungs are crushed and burning. But more than anything, you’re simply exhausted—perpetually drained by the demons which have once again arrived to feast on your psyche.

At this point, you think most of your frustration lies with yourself. Maybe you’re being overdramatic, maybe you should be over it by now—if only you were stronger, more resilient. Not the miserable pushover you feel you’ve turned out to be. Harsh? Yes. Unfair? Perhaps. This does feel like the breaking point in your life’s long line of abandonments, digging up feelings you haven’t felt since you were a child.

But that being said, it also makes you feel like you should be used to it by now. Should be used to having to bounce back—what else can you expect from the world at this point, really? What a fool you were to even think that this time would be different.

The sound of quiet footsteps has you opening your eyes again, and you’re not sure whether the man in front of you is the first or last person you want to see right now.

Taehyung has his hands in his pockets, watching you with that calculated expression he always has on when he’s trying to gauge your mood. But all you can see in his face on your end is concern, not a hint of awkwardness or trepidation after what just transpired between the two of you in the ballroom.

So it really must have been all in your head.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Kook said you seemed upset.”

“I’m fine.” You try to push out a smile, but he unsurprisingly sees right through it, closing the gap between you and gesturing at the spot to your right.

“Mind if I sit?”

You’re still not entirely in the mood for company but you can’t bring yourself to say no to him, so you give the tiniest of nods and Taehyung settles on the wall next to you.

The two of you sit in silence for a bit, the buzz of the surrounding trees continuing its serenade. Taehyung doesn’t push, doesn’t say anything, only provides a steady presence. On particularly bad days when you were kids, you’d both wander down to the local playground and sit on the swings for a while. Sometimes you’d talk—either to rant and let it all out or make each other laugh to distract yourselves—but most nights, you’d just sit in the quiet and enjoy the feeling of not being alone.

It feels like that now, with Taehyung’s warmth radiating at your shoulder and the stars hanging above, but tonight, you’re compelled to speak.

“I’m really pathetic, huh?”

Taehyung’s eyes flash as he looks over at you, but he doesn’t interrupt, sensing you want to say more.

“I’m at my friends’ wedding, I’m supposed to be celebrating them and their love for each other, and instead I’m out here having a pity party.” You scoff. “It’s pathetic and selfish.”

“First of all, we are out here having a pity party,” Taehyung begins, and it draws a sudden laugh from you that you think sounds halfway deranged, but he only smiles.

"Secondly, you're not pathetic, and you're not selfish. You just went through a traumatic event, you know? You're allowed to have emotions."

"I know, but I just don't…want to," you sigh. "I just want it all to stop. I'm so tired of feeling weighed down especially on a day like this, but it's like it just doesn't end. The reminders don't end."

"You thought he'd be here," Taehyung says softly, and though his head nods slightly in understanding, his voice is tinged with sadness. "You miss him."

"I—that's not exactly it, no," you quickly say, not wanting him to think that you somehow regret being here with him. "Given what he did…like you’ve said, it's not forgivable, so it's not like I wish he was here. I mean, sure, are there some days where I reflexively think about him and stuff? Of course—we were together for four years—but I…still would prefer to never see him again."

Taehyung lets out a short sigh that you interpret as approval, but he stays quiet, giving you time to work out your thoughts.

"I think it's more the loss of security than anything. Seeing Hoseok and Sunny up at the alter…I couldn't help thinking that I was so, so close to that—to having that one person that I could commit to walking through life with. A partner, a friend, just someone to have day-in and day-out. Forever." You choke up, a fresh wave of tears lodging in your throat that you try to keep down. Taehyung is stiff next to you, staring down at his hands in his lap.

"And I want that, Tae. I want that so bad. But it's…so scary to start from scratch after feeling that close. I feel like I'm losing my mind. I'm just constantly overwhelmed and feel like I can't outrun it, and then I feel guilty on days like this because I shouldn't be letting it get to me, and—"

"Hey, hey, Y/N, shhhh." Taehyung finally jumps in as you begin to spiral, reaching out to take your hand in his. "You don't have to worry or feel guilty because you are going to have all of that. Okay? You will."

"You can't know that."

"I do." He slips his pinky around yours briefly before his hand comes up to cup your jaw, guiding your eyes to his. "I promise you. I don't know how far out it'll be, but one day we'll all be together again at a place like this, and it'll be your turn." He gets a faraway look in his eye, seemingly perceiving something that you're struggling to even grab a glimpse of right now. "It'll be everything you've ever dreamed of—intimate and outdoors, right? I know you always said growing up that you were going to get married at the Spring Day Gardens. If you still want it, it'll be yours."

You let his words draw you in, painting you a picture so beautiful you're afraid to even let your heart believe in it. But his baritone voice presses on.

"And it'll be perfect. Not a cloud in the sky—nothing but sunshine. And we'll all be there, and you'll have your favorite lily bouquet and your perfect dress…"

Something stops him, and he blinks at you, dropping his palm from your face and glancing away at the lights from the party before resuming his tale.

"And the guy…" He licks his lips, and you feel the hand that's still holding yours tighten ever so slightly. "He's going to love you so much. Properly love you. He's going to see you come down that aisle and weep because he's just going to know that he's the luckiest guy in the universe. And if he doesn't cry right away, I'll kick him in the shins up there until he does because in spite of what Jimin and Jungkook think, we all know that I'm actually your best man."

You let out a watery giggle, the tears flowing freely now, and Taehyung reaches up to swipe a few off your cheeks, letting out a chuckle of his own.

"I want to believe you," you say quietly. "And hopefully one day I will. I just…I need more time."

"Whatever you need, you know I'm here for you," he murmurs, and you nod.

You fall back into silence for a few moments, Taehyung dutifully continuing to hold your hand while you lightly sniffle and wipe at your cheeks.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to go back to the party like this—I think you ruined my make-up," you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

"Maybe, but you're the prettiest raccoon I've ever seen."

You laugh in earnest now, your shoulders shaking with it, and Taehyung smiles at you before suddenly rising to his feet.

"Wait here," he says, and then he's jogging back up towards the venue.

The silence envelops you again as you continue to mull over Taehyung's vision. Your battered heart is hesitant to dream, all of your imaginings coming in with fuzzy edges and blurry details that you just can't seem to place. But you're sure Taehyung was definitely right about one thing—you can't imagine a situation where you get married without him standing by your side.

It's a handful of minutes later when the man himself finally reappears with a hand behind his back and a mischievous smile on his face. When you raise your eyebrows at him in question, he comes to a halt in front of you and presents a full fifth of your favorite whiskey.

"What do you say we get out of here?"

The dim hotel lights cast a soft glow about the room as you and Taehyung pass the bottle back and forth, the mood significantly more casual than the extravagant party you just ditched. The decor may be fancy—Hoseok and Sunny certainly didn’t skimp when it came to location—but the two of you are perfectly rumpled, stretched out on the expensive sheets: you having removed your make-up and changed into your pajamas and Taehyung propped up against the headboard with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his jacket and tie tossed over the couch.

You’ve started up a game of Truth or Drink, a somewhat milder version of Truth or Dare, where you get to take turns asking each other questions, and the respondent has the chance to either answer the question or take a mouthful of whiskey. Normally, between you and Taehyung, such a game would be low stakes, with your shared years and few secrets between you making it hard to ask challenging questions. But something about tonight and the need for a distraction seems to have made both of you competitive, going for questions that you know the other wouldn’t want to answer.

“What was the last thing you cried about?”

“One thing you don’t like about me?”

“Favorite position?”

“Did you really lose your virginity in a tree house?”

“What’s your greatest fear?”

"If you could have anything in the world right now, what would it be?"

"Oh God, one of those cupcakes from Sweet Night Bakery," you groan. It was a place you had passed every day on the way to school, the wafting scents of cookies and cakes playing pied piper to your youthful noses. You had always dreamed of one day being able to afford the expensive pastries but had fled your hometown before having the adult money to do so.

"Seriously? Anything in the world and you want a cupcake?" Taehyung laughs, pink tongue poking out from behind his teeth.

"It's not just anything, it's one of my life's dreams," you counter, playfully shaking a fist at him for emphasis, but Taehyung seems unconvinced. "Fine then, if you have such a good answer. Same question."

He tilts his head at you, a mild haze in his eyes that tells you that while he's not drunk-drunk, he's definitely tipsy. A beat passes and he takes a drink.

"Ooh, mysterious," you slur. "But I win."

"Alright, alright." He grins at you. "I concede to your sugary dreams."

You mirror his smile, observe the way his fingers curl in his lap as you try to think of your next question. He’s always had nice hands—so delicate and careful with everything he touches. It’s odd, you think, how such gentleness could emerge from a home and upbringing that was anything but. How someone as bright as Taehyung could come from such darkness.

“Do you want kids one day?”

The question takes him by surprise when you ask it, and he physically startles, turning the bottle in his hands slowly. “I don’t know. Why?” He looks at you then, and you feel like you can see a riddle being worked out in his head. “Where did that question come from?”

“I don’t know,” you echo. “You spent so much time earlier imagining a future for me. I realized that we’ve never really talked about what you want for yourself outside of your career.”

Growing up, you’d discussed your dreams for the future, of course. But while you have always skewed towards the romantic, envisioning rings and weddings and vows, Taehyung’s always been much more practical and career-oriented—his plans always involved degrees and promotions and retirement funds.

A beat passes as he continues to fidget with the whiskey bottle before he again says, “I’m really not sure.”

“Well think about it now,” you challenge. “Or drink up.”

He chuckles to himself, some private joke in his head. “It would terrify me, I think. But I’d love them with everything I’ve got. Want to give them everything I didn’t have and be better than my parents were.”

You hum in agreement; you’ve had the same thoughts on occasion. Some who grew up in your situation may have been turned off the idea of children—and the idea does scare you in certain respects—but you’ve always been stubborn. “It’d be a chance to prove that it doesn’t have to be that hard. That you didn’t deserve what you went through.”

Fingers graze against yours in a subtle show of kinship. As always, you understand each other. “Exactly.”

And he may be struggling to imagine it, but you can see it so clearly: a small boy with big, brown eyes and a boxy smile riding on Taehyung’s shoulders. The two of them playing in the sand at the beach house or walking down the street together—the boy’s tiny hand tucked safely in his father’s.

The image chokes you up, fills you with so much warmth you think you might burst.

“You’d be an amazing father, Tae.”

There’s not a single doubt in your mind about it—that this incredible, thoughtful, selfless man would also be a wonderful dad. He doesn’t look so sure, but a flicker of recognition passes through him.

“You’ve said that to me once before,” he murmurs.

“I did?”

A nod. “One time when you were drunk junior year.”

You don’t remember it, the memory lost to the alcohol. “I guess drunk me has flashes of brilliance.”

“Maybe we’ll see someday.”

“I hope we will.”

Suddenly nervous, he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing in the long column of his neck. “But it’d have to be with the right person.”

“Has there ever been anyone who you thought was close?”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “You’re asking a disproportionate amount of questions.”

Reaching over, you pull the bottle from his hands, drink down a mouthful of burning liquor, and set it right back in his lap. “Answer.”

Wide eyes appraise you through the dim light; he looks almost impressed. “No.”

“No, there’s never been someone you could see a future with, or no, you won’t answer?”

“The first one,” he says. “I’ve never been with someone I could imagine having kids with.”

You frown, the blunt despondence in his tone cutting. “Not even Luna?”

A look is thrown your way—pursed lips and creased brow telling you that’s a stupid question.

“What happened with her?”

He scoffs, lips immediately wrapping around the bottle as he takes a gulp.

“So something did happen.”

“We broke up,” he states. “That’s what happened.”

“Yeah, but you’ve never said why.”

He shrugs as if it’s no big deal. As if you’ve just asked him what he wants for dinner and not why the longest relationship of his life ended. “We weren’t compatible.”

You can’t help but sigh, a small part of you hurt that he still refuses to talk about it, that he’s closed this part of himself off to you. “You don’t trust me?”

“Y/N, no.” He shakes his head, looking genuinely remorseful to have given you that impression. “That’s not it. It’s just…impossibly complicated—“

“Was it me?” You’re suddenly reminded of a conversation with Maya from weeks ago, when she’d suggested that you were the reason all of Taehyung’s relationships had failed.

His lips part, tongue pushing into his cheek like he’s trying to hold words back.

“It was, wasn’t it?” you push, and his teeth dig into his tongue now, chewing. “You can tell me. I can handle i—“

“You were part of it, yes.”

In spite of what you’ve just said, the words land like a blow. You’ve spent years watching him go through breakup after breakup, and now you find out that you were a source of that anguish all along—helped fuel that heartbreak in his life.

It pains you to think you’ve been holding him back.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” you whisper.

“Because there was nothing to tell. It didn’t matter.”

“It does matter, Tae. If I’m getting in the way of your relationships…I want you to be happy.”

“You make me happy.”

That silences you, the sincerity in his voice leaving you blinking at him, and he continues.

“She didn’t like how close we are—most of them haven’t. But it doesn’t matter because at the end of the day, I’ll always choose you. And that’s the end of it. Nothing left to tell.”

You feel like you should protest this, insist on him putting himself and his future first.

But given similar circumstances, wouldn’t you do the same for him?

“Did Jace ever give you shit about us?” he asks, reading your mind.

He had, ranting about Taehyung that night in some fucked up attempt to explain away why you’d found him in bed with another woman. Before then, you hadn’t noticed the signs: hadn’t picked up on his reluctance to spend time with your friends, hadn’t read into the way he stuck close to your side on the rare occasions he did, a possessive arm always tight around your waist.

It all made sense afterwards, and you hate that the vulnerability and anguish of the moment made you question your own actions. You never would’ve shut Taehyung out—never in a million years—but it initially made you think that maybe if you’d been more attentive towards Jace, had been more sensitive to his feelings, that maybe you wouldn’t have wound up in the situation you did.

You recognize now that he didn’t deserve it in the end, obviously, but heartbreak is a funny thing.

Not wanting to have to admit to any of that out loud, you whisk the bottle from Taehyung’s hands again and drink. He watches the movement of your throat with heavy, knowing eyes, immediately taking the whiskey back for his own sip once you’ve finished.

“I must admit,” he says, the alcohol clearly loosening his tongue as he sags against the headboard. “I’m a little relieved about things ending for you and Jace. Aside from him being a certified douchebag, I mean.”

You frown, not sure where he’s going with this, and the look on your face must come across as offense because he’s quick to clarify.

“Not that I liked seeing you hurt.” He shakes his head, and you can see some anger at the situation still lingering under the surface. “No, never. But I just…now I get to keep you longer at least.”

“Keep me?”

“Yeah, this…” He wags a finger between you. “You know this has to end one day, right?”

The whiskey should be warming, but your veins fill with ice at his words. Losing Jace was one thing. Losing Taehyung would be a different matter entirely.

“You’re always going to have me,” you say, reaching for his pinky.

But he pulls his hand away.

“Not like this.” He smiles with what you assume to be intended comfort, but his entire demeanor is tainted with sadness. “One day, when you have the dream guy and the family and the white picket fence, there won’t be room for me. Not like this.”

It feels like earlier—him trying to paint you a picture of a possible future for you—but unlike earlier, you can’t picture this future. You don’t want it. Not if he’s not there.

“Tae—“

“It’s okay, Y/N.” He gives another sad smile, takes another drink. “No husband is going to want a third wheel hanging around. I understand. I want you to be happy, too.”

But you wouldn’t be happy without him, and in many ways, you’ve always known that to be true. But that knowledge hits you now with such force, such raw truth, that it renders you speechless and leaves you staring at him, drunken eyes laser-focused as if discovering the very center of the universe.

You want to challenge him on his statement, make him see that he’s wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. But the alcohol muddles your thoughts, has your brain dropping half-formed sentences through your mind like Scrabble pieces that you can’t quite wrangle into a coherent thought.

Taehyung takes your silence for agreement and, seeming to suddenly realize that some kind of line has just been crossed, takes the quiet opportunity to flip the conversation back to your game.

“The shoes you gave me for my seventeenth birthday,” he begins, the words tipping out slow and oddly calculated for someone who’s had as much to drink as he has. “Where did the money come from?”

You know where he’s going with this. And it’s perhaps the only secret you’ve kept from him in the entirety of your friendship. “Christmas money, I told you.”

“No, really.”

“Why don’t you believe me?”

“I never saw that house decorated for Christmas even once.”

“Could’ve been from an aunt or uncle.”

“But it wasn’t, was it?”

It wasn’t. You snuck the money out of your father’s desk one day knowing that he wouldn’t have even noticed it was missing. Absent-minded in everything aside from work, your father had misplaced things constantly. You drink. And even though it’s supposed to be an avoidance of the question, it gives him his answer.

“I knew it.”

“They weren’t going to miss it, and you needed it more.”

“You could’ve gotten in so much trouble.”

“I knew I wouldn’t. I didn’t. And it was worth the risk regardless.”

Looking back, you wish you’d had more of a fear of getting caught—wish your parents would’ve scolded you, screamed at you, anything. It would’ve been better than the indifference you’d been met with day in and day out. As if you were invisible.

Taehyung’s head swings from side-to-side. “You shouldn’t have. I would’ve been okay.”

“And you shouldn’t have punched Jace in that club, but you did anyway, didn’t you?”

“That’s different.”

“It’s not. You’re not the only one who gets to put your ass on the line for the people you care about. You were worth the risk.”

He blinks, regarding you as if you’ve presented him with some outlandish concept. Like you’ve asked him to explain rocket science or open-heart surgery. “Then you should’ve told me then.”

“You would’ve given them back.”

“Maybe, but then at least we would’ve been in it together instead of you lying to me.”

“And you’ve never lied to me?”

He hesitates, tongue tracing his bottom lip. “No.”

“Okay, then. Truth or drink: what’s the worst lie you’ve ever told?”

You know there must be one, can read it in the way his shoulder is suddenly pressed against yours as he tilts into you. Fingertips skim the bare skin of your knee, tentative in their movements, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath as the distance between you closes to mere centimeters, his gaze roaming your face and snagging on your mouth.

And you feel it—the pull that you’ve always felt towards him, the gravitational force that’s kept you in the same orbit since you were children. Two souls that intertwined the moment they sensed the other’s presence with a flash of awareness and said, You, you, you.

Thinking back on the entirety of your life, you don’t know how you possibly could have made it through without him: your best friend, your partner, your sanctuary. In such a volatile world—a turbulent youth marred by uncertainty and sorrow—he took your hand and held you steady, made sure you didn’t go through it alone.

In hindsight, you can’t truly regret it. Yes, there will always be a part of you that will resent your parents, wish that they would have loved you enough to spare you the hurt and stress they put you through. But just like the night when he brought you back to your apartment—held you close as you fell asleep in his embrace—your memories with him far outweigh the trauma you endured. When you think of your time spent growing up, he is by far the brightest star, outshining any darkness that may have lingered at the corners. It’s not the empty house or your parents’ stony faces that you think of first, but him: blanket forts and starry nights and walks in the park and blurry photographs and sometimes tears, sure, but only with him there to hold you.

Looking at this man in front of you, in every familiar line of his face and body, you know, without a crumb of doubt, that you’d do it all again. Screw Jace and Luna and your parents and anyone else who’s expressed disdain at your closeness with him. He’s written into every line of your history, every memory that’s worth something. And he may fight you on it, but he’s worth every risk you’ve ever taken—you would’ve stolen a thousand pairs of shoes for him. You’d move mountains and drain the oceans if he needed you to. You’d do anything.

You couldn’t live without him. You don’t want to live without him.

A moment of clarity, a wave of revelation as you lock eyes and are met with your favorite color. And at long last, you find the words.

I love you.

Your heart throws itself off a cliff…

And you lean in to press your lips to his.

NEXT

a/n: happy holidays to all who celebrate 😊

[foxymoxynoona]

Tell Me What Changed (Part 11 A)

Banner and lines by the talented @awrkive

Summary: Alex and Jungkook have been best friends since childhood –actual best friends. She is NOT in love with him, for real, and wishes people would stop assuming that. Why does no one question if he’s in love with her? Huh? But it might have to do with his successful fuckboy status, while Alex is very much… not that. Which is fine and doesn’t matter! Until Jimin’s impending wedding leaves her eager for a date and willing to put herself out there, and Jungkook can’t believe what happens next.

Fuckboy Best Friend JK x OC

CW and tags: fuckboy behavior, jealousy, pining, heartbreak, angst, bad language, explicit sex, sexy photos, alcohol, f2l, who knows what else I'm making it up as we go

Read on AO3 here or below cut

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Read Epilogue

Note: I did it again, the chapter is too long for tumblr so I have to split it into three parts. Make sure you read A first!!!

Jungkook wasn’t nervous for his date with Alex. Why would he be nervous? It was Alex. He knew everything Alex liked. He knew how to have a good time with her. He knew how to make her laugh until she’d yell she was going to pee herself and go waddling to the bathroom while he shouted things after her to try and make it happen. He knew what food she liked and how long she could tolerate standing in line for an attraction and that she didn’t mind the cold but she didn’t like to get wet in the rain because she didn’t like her hair and clothes sticking to her skin. 

Once he had wanted to test that, run naked through the rain with her. She had of course refused and punched him in the stomach for the suggestion. He wondered if now he had a better chance of convincing her… for science, obviously! Did she still mind the rain if her hair was in a bun and she was totally naked in it? What if he was on top of her, blocking some of it?

But in all seriousness, he might not really date other than an occasional activity preceding a good fuck but if he was ever going to go on a date, Alex was the easiest partner for it. They could have fun –and had!-- anywhere: the grocery store, a furniture store, CVS to get their flu shots, McDonald’s at 2am, urgent care that time his ears were stopped up so badly and his fever was so high he started to cry and she forced him to go and kept referring to him as “my son” to the nurses and he couldn’t stop laughing despite the pain. 

So yeah, why would he be nervous about a date? He had no doubts about success. He was going to take her to minigolf, school her ass, then tacos from the best truck in town which he had confirmed would be at Hoff Memorial Park;  they’d eat sitting in the cold on a picnic bench and then he’d take her home to his bed before the rain started around nine and he’d, you know. Spaghetti her. He’d put a lot of thought into what positions he’d use too. A lot. Needed to be sure he’d maximize her pleasure and not bend or twist her in a way that hurt her. Stroke her just right. He wanted to win a scream! Leave her a trembling melted mess in his arms. Ah, it’d be so good… she’d be all fuck, Koo, I finally get it now, you’re really fucking good at this. Make her eat her words alongside his dick, that thing she’d always said with a laugh, damn, if the insta-girls could see the real you they’d be heartbroken.

He needed to show her what’s good.

He had a plan.

And then the comments started.

Nate: “Oh damn, you actually have a date with her? Wasn’t that last guy really good at dates? Good luck, my man.”

Namjoon: “Oh. That’s the date you planned? Isn’t that just… what you guys normally do?”

Taehyung: “Yeah this is the time, you can really show her that you’re serious and mature and want to do this, so like, whole nine yards, something big and– oh. Minigolf? Um…”

Sabina: “Don’t take her to minigolf. She deserves more than minigolf.”

Anita: “Hm, I think minigolf just seems a little easy and impersonal. But you know her best! If you think that’s the kind of date she likes, then…”

Jimin: “You messaged me on my honeymoon for this? It’s fine, Alex will think it’s funny.”

Fuck. Fuck! As Jungkook paced his apartment the afternoon before the date, he realized his plan was no good. He didn’t want Alex to think their date was funny. He wanted her to think it was romantic. He wanted her to be awed by his charm and suaveness… suavity…. State of being suave. He wanted her to be swept off her feet. He wanted her to forget Hobi was ever a guy she dated and it sucked because Nate was right, Hobi was good at dates. He showed up and showed out and Alex was always all flustered and bubbly after their dates. Jungkook wanted Alex to be like that afterwards. Not just like “yep that was an ok time hanging out with my good buddy JK.” He wanted blushes and giggles and then bam, spaghetti!

This called for a fucking re-plan. And fast. 

He showered so he’d smell fresh and lotioned and not like the mall, slapping on cologne and spot-fixing his acne in between looking things up on his laptop perched precariously on the bathroom counter. A few google searches and phone calls later and he’d completely redone their plans for the night, pulling out all the stops. Was it going to hurt his bank account? Yes. Was she worth it? Also yes.

Much more at ease about the whole thing, Jungkook took one more look at himself in the mirror, snapped a selfie, and posted it to his socials for the pep talk he needed.

[TheJK.1997]: look good feel good treat her good, ready for the surf and turf. Best wine recs for Hollyoak Vineyard go

He checked himself one last time, ran over a spot he missed shaving real quick, and was out the door in plenty of time to pick her up early, just to really surprise her. Definitely not because he was getting a stomachache from nerves and needed to do something other than pace from living room to kitchen and pick at his lips.

She wasn’t ready. There he was with a fucking bouquet of flowers even though it made him feel like a fucking idiot because Hoseok gave her flowers so it would look like he was copying but obviously he couldn’t not show up with flowers –there he was with a fucking bouquet of flowers, sitting in a living room he’d been in at least one thousand times since he’d known Alex, while her dad sat in the chair and watched a Planet Earth documentary and her mom made tea in the kitchen even though he had assured her he didn’t want any. They had said hello to him and not much else, both like this was any other time that he’d come over and also like it wasn’t and they weren’t supposed to acknowledge his presence as he just sat there on the couch in slacks and a button up with fucking flowers to give their fucking daughter who was fucking late. It was mortifying. Jungkook wished he could melt into the cracks between the couch cushions. He wished Dilong would come running out and scratch his throat or piss on him or something so he had an excuse to just leave.

“How’s work?” Baba Song asked him over the sound of flamingos feeding.

“It’s good. Busy at the holidays.”

“How is your dad’s– ah, I will just ask him, I’ll see him tomorrow.”

Jungkook nodded. He wasn’t actually sure what about his father was unwell right now, so he should ask. He pulled out his phone and saw they were going to have to hurry to make their dinner reservation. 

“AHh I had better check on her–” Jungkook mumbled, starting to stand. Mama Song was just setting tea in front of him and took it upon herself to shout for Alex followed by Chinese. Alex answered in short Chinese, then came down the hall.

“I’m ready, ok? What’s the rush? I was doing my makeup– oh?” She stopped in front of him and her eyes went right to the flowers. “You brought me flowers?”

Jungkook was instantly mortified. She was probably comparing them to the ones Hoseok had bought her.

“They’re for your mom,” he quickly corrected, thrusting them towards Mama Song. 

Who let out a cackle of a laugh and said, “I will put them in water for Alex. I have a perfect vase. They are beautiful.”

“Wait, I want to see them,” Alex cried, leaping after her mother. She bent down to look close and Jungkook felt like she might as well be examining his limp dick, he was so embarrassed. They were supposed to be nice. He’d bought really nice ones at the standalone shop next to the Starbucks –not the one she worked at, not the one Hoseok worked at, a different one! He didn’t know what kinds of flowers they were but there was lots of color and some spiky looking ones because they looked fun and he thought spiky flowers made sense for her. 

“They’re really pretty,” she said.

“You’re really pretty,” he countered automatically, an old way they had of teasing each other except this time he’d accidentally been nice. Baba Song coughed on the couch and Jungkook thought it had to be related. Cool, he already felt like he was dying anyway as Alex grinned wide and looked him up and down and he was sure she was laughing at him. Baba Song laughing at him too was exactly what he didn’t need.

“You look like you’re going on a date,” Alex mused.

“Uh…” The panic was instant. “Aren’t I?”

“Koopa,” she laughed and hit him on the arm. “You’d better be! Let’s go, weren’t you in a rush a minute ago? You know it takes time to do my makeup without you to help.”

“It looks good,” he said, though the points weren’t quite even which he only noticed because sometimes it took her ten tries before she’d give up and ask him to do it. He started to offer to fix it now but she was already headed towards the door and it didn’t matter. 

“Goodbye Mr. Song. Mrs. Song,” he called. Should he promise to have her home at a certain time? Even addressing them that way felt weird but like, he was taking their daughter out on a date, he had to seem sort of respectful and responsible, right? “Thank you for the tea!” He hadn’t even touched it.

Alex’s skirt was very short, he noticed as they went to his car. She had fancy green tights on underneath it so he couldn’t see skin or anything but it did occur to him that if she bent over, he might not even need to hike it up. Not that he was just thinking about fucking! It really felt more like a nervous impulse to think about it, because he was way more nervous about the not-fucking parts right now as he hurried around and slid into the driver’s seat. He wasn’t even trying to fuck her tonight! He just wanted to hit it out of the park, this whole “date with the goal of earning another date” thing.

“So where are we going?” she asked as he started the car. It was cold and he wished he had thought to run out and start it early so she wouldn’t have to sit in it; she was wearing a new coat, not her usual bulky one that made her look like a burnt marshmallow. You know, in a cute way!

“Um… you know that steakhouse over on–”

“Steakhouse,” she repeated, eyes going wide. “You can’t afford steak!”

“You don’t know what I can’t afford. I’m taking you to a steakhouse!”

“Ok ok geez.” She wiggled in her seat to get comfortable. “I figured you’d just take me for tacos or something. Steak is fine.”

He scoffed, “Come on. I’m a better date than that.”

“All right James Bond or whatever…” she mumbled. “Didn’t know you had something you were trying to prove or whatever.”

“Yeah well…” He didn’t know what to say to that. Yeah, of course he had something to prove. “Is it warm enough for you?” He made it warmer, just in case, even though he was starting to sweat. 

They lapsed into silence. The roads were icy so he didn’t want to be too distracted but it made him nervous for her to just be sitting there staring out the window. Silence was bad on a date, that was something everyone knew. Silence was definitely not going to leave her starry-eyed and weak in the knees.

“So uh, how’s work?”

“Ugh, next question,” she snorted, and reached for the radio dial.

“No, don’t turn music on. Let’s just… talk.”

“O…k….”

He started talking just to fill the silence. He told her about his own work, and about Appa thinking he wanted to do Christmas lights and throwing one lit net over a bush and calling it a day, and about his new nephew who was still pretty useless but starting to look cuter now. He realized they had seen each other a few days ago so these life updates weren’t necessary but he wanted some sort of connection.

“Uh… well, there’s not much going on with me… well, Hobi brought a box of my stuff to work today, so that kind of sucked–”

“He brought it to your work?!”

“Well he waited in the parking lot but yeah… I mean we agreed to do that today but still that sucked in the morning and then I got home and Dilong puked on my bed and I stubbed my toe while I was getting ready… but you brought me flowers, so that’s the best part of my day so far,” she smiled. 

“They were for your mom…”

“Oh yeah? For Mrs. Song?” she teased. 

But he didn’t feel like being teased because this was a date and they were supposed to be getting to know each other and charming each other, so instead he suggested, “Ok let’s not talk about Hobi or uh, other exes or anything tonight.”

“Um… ok… Geez, sensitive much?’

“It’s my date with you.”

“You just asked me how my day was and I told you.”

“Ok so now I know and I’m just saying we can talk about other things now.”

“Ok like what?”

“Um…” Jungkook wracked his brain, but everything that came to mind wasn’t the kind of thing he wanted to talk about on their first date. Funny but inappropriate memes, friend gossip, political outrage, bemoaning the economy, a really bloody anime he’d started and thought she might like too, none of it was the way he wanted to represent himself right now as a respectable and respectful guy. Boyfriend material.

“We’re here,” he announced. Saved by the drive time. He pulled into a spot near the water’s edge –just a pond, but definitely something the steakhouse capitalized on for atmosphere. Fairy lights hung above the walkway through a little windy garden to reach the front of the restaurant.

“Woah, this place is nice,” Alex murmured, bumping into him as she looked around. “Are you sure about this? It’s really fancy… I didn’t dress for something this fancy…”

“I’m sure.” He took her hand and looped it through his arm. “You deserve something like this. It’s our first date. Right?” He looked eagerly down at her, needing to hear her agree that it was in fact their first date and that was in fact a big deal to her too.

“I guess but you really didn’t have to go to so much trouble. You know me, I’m easy–”

“I don’t know you. This is our chance to get to know each other,” he corrected. “As –you know, this new way of seeing each other.” As romantic partners, he couldn’t bring himself to say.

He thought her smile looked unconvinced but at least she was smiling. They reached the front door –and now he saw a side ramp they could have taken right to the front door instead of wandering through the garden. Uh well. He opened the door for her and they walked in to easily the nicest restaurant Jungkook had ever been to in his life. The host was wearing a tux. 

Shit this place was going to be expensive.

“Good evening,” the host greeted them as Jungkook shirked his coat off.

“Hi. Um, Jungkook Jeon, table for two. I have reservations for 6:00.” 

“Ah, yes, Jeon, hm…” The host didn’t move as his gaze trailed down Jungkook and then slid to Alex. “My apologies, Mr. Jeon, but were you aware that there is a dress code for dining here?”

Jungkook glanced down at his slacks and dark blue button up and nodded, “Yeah. We dressed nicely.” He glanced at Alex and realized he hadn’t told her to dress nicely but yeah, she looked great: short red skirt, dark green legs, a fluffy white sweater with… pearls? Had she really worn a sweater with pearls all across the chest to their date– ok, but she hadn’t meant anything filthy by it, he was sure of that. Just because his mind went there didn’t mean hers did.

“I’m sorry, the dress code is formal. That means at least a tie and jacket for the gentleman and formal evening dress or pantsuit for the lady.” 

“Uh…” Jungkook glanced at their outfits again. “Well this is what we have on so…”

The host looked performatively apologetic as he said, “I’m sorry, I cannot seat you.”

“But… but I made a reservation,” Jungkook argued. “No one’s going to die because I’m not wearing a jacket.”

“Neither of you is dressed appropriately for the restaurant, I’m afraid–”

It was embarrassing, sure, but he also didn’t want Alex to hear someone insinuate she wasn’t dressed nicely, so he ignored that she was grabbing his arm and argued, “Ok but she looks like a million bucks so I don’t– you just need me to put on a jacket and a tie–”

“Jungkook, let’s just go,” she said, trying to push him back towards the door.

“But I made reservations. This isn’t the ‘50s. No one under 50 has a jacket and tie for dinner at a shitty suburban steakhouse on the swamp–”

“Koo, let’s go,” she grunted, and managed to push him back against the door. He pushed it and stepped back out into the cold and felt the anger flare up freely now.

“What the fuck kind of place– am I crazy? Who fucking cares whether I have a jacket and a tie on for–”

“Well they care, it’s their rule!”

“It’s discrimination against young people!”

“Yeah, did you see the people eating in the restaurant?” she laughed. “I don’t think they want young people eating there. They want like rich uppercrust people.”

“Those people don’t live here.”

“Well this place is kind of famous, isn’t it? Maybe they drive in…”

“Is it?”

“I think it was on a TV show,” Alex admitted, before pointing to a plaque beside the door. Apparently it had, and won a bunch of awards. No wonder they cared about the way they looked or whatever.

“Yeah well showing all that by the door is tacky,” Jungkook scowled. Waves of anger and embarrassment rolled over him. “My money is as good as the next guy’s.”

“Ok but who cares, we don’t have to eat at a place like this. Let’s just pick somewhere else,” Alex said, nudging him towards the ramp.

Ugh, Hoseok would definitely have worn the suit and tie.

“Maybe we can just run back to my place and I can grab the suit I wore to the wedding–”

“No, I’m not dressed like that either and I don’t want to change. I spent way longer than I want to admit figuring out what to wear that would be cute and comfy,” she protested.

“But I want to take you to this nice place–”

“I don’t care about the nice place!” she snapped. He really did think she snapped at him, and it shut him up. They marched in silence down the ramp back towards his car. They got into the car. They buckled their seatbelts.

Bad start to the date.

“We can go to Taco Bell for all I care,” Alex suggested.

“That’s a shitty date,” Jungkook sulked. “That’s the kind of date you think I am?”

“There’s nothing wrong with Taco Bell…”

“I’m not taking you to fucking Taco Bell,” he groaned and pulled out his phone and began scrolling again. What was close, and nice, and not a fucking Taco Bell, and not going to turn them away at the door because they weren’t dressed in some shitty elitist outdated formal dining attire. Fuck, he was so angry about it! Even if that was a rule, they couldn’t bend it? They couldn’t seat them somewhere private or something? He was trying to impress a girl here!

“We could do Italian… is that too much wine though? We’re going to a wine tasting afterwards.”

“A wine tasting?” Alex repeated. “Um…”

“You don’t like a wine tasting?”

“No no it’s fine!” Alex assured him. “That’s cute. You really… yeah, it’ll be great,” she smiled at him. “And sure, Italian is fine! Let’s do Italian. What place are you thinking?”

“Tomasso Trattoria and Enoteca,” Jungkook read, and handed her the phone as he started to drive so she could look at it.

“Woah… this place is still really nice though… I was thinking like Olive Garden–”

“Alex, can you please let me take this date seriously? I realize maybe you don’t care but–”

“I care! Care about this being our date? I care!”

“I want it to be a special date!”

“I get it! This place looks very special,” she told him, setting his phone in the cradle with the GPS up. 

He knew his frustration was a wall between them but she didn’t break it down this time. Usually she was good at that. He didn’t know what it meant, that she didn’t try. He wasn’t sure how to do it on his own, because if this was a date with someone else he wouldn’t care, he’d just change the subject and move on and vent about it to Alex later, or invent an excuse to take the girl home and go home. To Alex. Obviously she knew how he was, inside and out, but as he drove in the silence he started to feel a deeper embarrassment, like she’d seen him do something wrong. It wasn’t wrong for him to be annoyed with the restaurant for not letting them in! They had told him formal dress when he made the reservation sure but they didn’t explain that meant anything other than just looking your best! He looked his best! Alex looked her best! What, were they going to wear their wedding clothes or something?

“You know I was thinking about how crazy it is that just everything is Christmas this time of year,” Alex mused. “It’s not like I didn’t know everything is too Christmas and that there are lots of people who doesn’t celebrate who have to deal with it but I guess because we celebrate without being Christian, I didn’t really think about how fucking annoying it is for people who really don’t celebrate. Rebekah was telling me people always act like they’re sorry for her…” She continued to talk about it and he took the moment to breathe deeply. Ok. Change in plans. But Alex wasn’t demanding he take her home, so it would be ok. Even if he didn’t know why the fuck this was what she decided to ramble about, at least it was something.

The Italian place was busier, smaller, not on the water, but still nice and they didn’t get turned away at the door. The host took their coats for them. The tables had real candles, which Jungkook didn’t realize he cared about until they sat down and he saw the actual flicker from the breeze of their motions. The menus were short, which a Reddit thread had taught him meant it was a sign of a good restaurant. Their waiter had a bowtie and a black vest and offered to call over a sommelier to guide their wine selection.

“We’re going to a wine tasting after this,” Alex informed the waiter. “So I’ll wait on the wine.”

“We can have a glass or something here,” Jungkook argued.

Alex shook her head and tapped the wine menu, maybe trying to show him that the cheapest wine was $15/glass at a glance. But he had brought her to an Italian restaurant! For a fancy dinner! Wine was part of a fancy dinner!

“You don’t have to, but I’ll have a glass of something, send the sommelier over,” Jungkook insisted. 

Alex decided she’d have the glass too. They had to show their cards and mused as they always did about how old they would have to be before the stopped getting carded. The waiter brought them bread and promised their calamari appetizer would be out quickly.

“Wow, it’s so romantic here,” Alex murmured. Jungkook felt the sigh of relief radiate from his chest. The candle light danced across her skin as she studied the elaborate murals on the walls, partially obscured by heavy red curtains. Elegant music played over the low din of dining. They were towards the edge of a large room, tucked into a little booth by the window with a view of nothing but trees. A grand piano stood in the center of what looked like a dance floor, tables sparse on the wooden floor.

“I feel bad,” she continued. “I didn’t realize you wanted to do such fancy things, I would have dressed nicer.”

“I think you dressed nice.”

“I did too until I saw you,” she laughed. “I guess I forgot…”

“Forgot what?” he asked, not following.

“What you look like.”

“Whaaaat?” he grinned, warmed by the flattery. The compliments from her felt sincere in a way they hadn’t before. He was used to teasing, so he almost didn’t trust it, but she didn’t look like she was teasing him. Now he found himself hungry for more. Did she really think he was hot? Not just aware that other people thought so, but she thought so? She liked the way he looked? She liked the way he dressed?

“Oh my god,” she snickered and rolled her eyes. “Do you always take your ego on dates with you?”

“No, I left it at home tonight with my jacket and tie,” he joked. She smiled and looked so pretty in the candlelight. He draped his hand across the table, palm down, to see if she’d take the hint and put hers on it. Would they be the kind of couple that held hands at dinner? Obviously not on a first date, but someday would they sit on the same side of the booth? Well, in a more serious way than when they did that at Wendy’s so they could both put their feet up on the other bench, that was different.

“The mood lighting is so… romantic,” she said again. “I feel like I should have worn high heels.”

“Your boots have heels.”

“Yeah but you know what I mean…’

“Do you want to dance until our food gets here?” The question was impulsive. No one else was dancing. But that could mean she wouldn’t have to feel nervous or pressured about dancing on beat with him. They could just hold onto each other and sway, here by the table or over on the dance floor. Maybe other people could join. He had enjoyed dancing with her so much, it would be a nice thing to add tonight.

But her eyes went wide as she cried, “Hey, don’t make fun of me!”

“What–”

“Oh god, don’t joke about it,” she laughed and covered her face. “How fucking humiliating…”

Jungkook hadn’t meant it as a joke. He thought it would be romantic. He certainly hadn’t meant to embarrass her just by the suggestion of dancing together. Unsure what else to say, he racked his brain trying to think of topics. The problem was that the lists of things to talk about on your first date were things like ask about where they grew up and ask about their hobbies and ask them what makes them unique? And ask them where their favorite place in the world is. But Jungkook knew all of these things about her! He wanted to learn something new about her. He wanted to seem new to her.

“Uh… what’s your favorite place in the world?” he asked as she untangled the little legs of their calamari appetizer.

“Mine? I don’t know… my parents’ house? I guess it was our old apartment.”

“Oh. Really?” he frowned.

“Why are you frowning?!”

“That’s just kind of sad.”

“Ok. Ouch.”

“No! I mean because we don’t live there anymore.”

“Oh. Yeah. How annoying,” she sighed. “So what’s Namjoon like as a roommate?”

“He’s a good roommate,” Jungkook said because he didn’t want to gossip or vent or seem complainy. Namjoon was a good roommate! Sure, he had a household aesthetic and a lot of Jungkook’s stuff didn’t meet the mark so he was kind of crowded into his room. 

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say? Come on, you complained about living with me all the time.”

“Ah, yeah, sorry about that…”

“Huh?”

Embarrassed that she’d bring that up, he sipped his $15/glass wine. Yeah, he was worried about that. Alex was his best friend and he’d always treated her like a best friend but that wasn’t the same way you wanted to treat a girlfriend. He had a lot of things to undo. Actually, that was it, their first date wasn’t about learning, it was about unlearning all the things he would never have let a girl see about him. 

“You’re being so weird,” she laughed, and nudged his foot under the table. “Is something wrong?”

“Hm? No, why would something be wrong?”

“Don’t let that other place bother you. I like this place a lot better anyway, this calamari is really good! I hope you still like me when I’m bloated from too much fettuccine…”

Instantly he assured her, “Of course I do. I mean, not that you’ll be bloaty or– I mean, obviously the body naturally looks different after a big dinner but it’s not– I won’t notice that kind of– it’s just normal…”

“It was a joke,” she said. “I’m wearing a bulky sweater, you won’t be able to tell anyway. Unless you get me naked.” She arched her eyebrow. 

“We, um– tonight it’s um… were you thinking that? I thought we’d just have a nice date–”

“Oh. That’s not… nice? OK, I mean I’m half joking, I didn’t realize you had such a tight schedule for tonight!”

Jungkook had never felt so awkward and weird around Alex in his life. The only thing he knew to do was try and get the conversation back on track to Impressive Date Approved topics:

“Hey, so I was watching a really interesting show the other day. It was about the brain and all the changes it goes through from like a baby to a dead person– an old person.”

“The brain does very much still change after you die,” she pointed out. Yeah, dead people and rotting brains was definitely not on the approved list. No girl went home from a date and was like oh boy he was so handsome and charming and funny and we talked about decaying brains. I’m so in love.

She had not said that to him yet. That she loved him. There hadn’t been any real confession or labeling and he was obviously fine with that, he didn’t need labels, but still, it would be cool to get her to say something he could be sure of.

“No, don’t be like that, it was really cool to see– oh thank Christ the food is here.”

“You in a hurry or something?” she laughed. Which reminded him that they did have a scheduled start time for the wine tasting. He checked his phone as the waiter set their food down. 

“Our wine tasting is at 7:30.”

“What?! Then yeah we don’t have much time!”

“Yeah.” Hm, he hadn’t really done the math right– or well he had when he’d made reservations for six at the other place, he just hadn’t counted on needing to change restaurants. Actually they have very little time. “Uh, well, ok, let’s eat fast then…” Eating fast was not romantic. “Or we can miss it. It’s fine.”

But she waved her hand, already twirling pasta around her fork, “No way, we’ll make it. You worked so hard planning all of this! I can eat fast. Damn this is good pasta…. You want to try this?”

He did, but he already envisioned the noodles swinging down and getting on his dark shirt. And then she’d want to try his, which was spaghetti and meatballs (it was one of the cheapest things on the menu, ok?!) and he’d drop one and it would bounce onto her white sweater. It wasn’t worth the risk.

“Nah, we can just eat our own food,” he assured her. 

And promptly knocked his glass of wine to the ground, shattering it.

**

Alex had never seen Jungkook acting so weird in her life. He swung back and forth between distracted and too intense. One moment she’d think he was bored and the next he’d ignore whatever she just said and start telling her a play by play of some brain documentary he watched! He was clearly pissed about the first restaurant turning them away but then didn’t seem to care about the next place even though it was really nice; they had to leave so quickly to get to the wine tasting that they didn’t even get dessert. 

He wasn’t acting like himself at all. Honestly, she felt like another day he might have still been able to sweet talk them into that first restaurant –though she was glad he hadn’t because she wasn’t really comfortable in a place like that anyway. It was bad enough being at the Italian restaurant where Jungkook insisted on paying and the waiter gave her a menu without prices so she didn’t even know how much damage she was doing to Jungkook’s bank account. He didn’t want to talk about any of the things they normally talked about. He didn’t respond to any of her jokes. 

She couldn’t figure it out. Did he just not want to be here? But that didn’t make sense, because if he didn’t want to be here, he wouldn’t be! Jungkook had no problem peacing out of a situation he didn’t want to be in. He’d bailed on her plenty of times, that wasn’t hard for him.

They rushed across town to get to Hollyoak Vineyards for this wine tasting Jungkook had booked them for –and she was confused, because they couldn’t do a vineyard tour in the cold and dark or anything– and made it just in the nick of time. He kept saying over and over that it was fine if they missed it, which seemed to mean it wasn’t fine. 

And then, checking in, winded by the sprint from the car, Alex made a terrible discovery: she had left her wallet and ID at the Italian restaurant. Which might have been fine if Jungkook wasn’t with her, because often she didn’t get carded on her own. But Jungkook made her look younger with that charming babyface of his. The woman asked to see their IDs before they could join the tour and tasting.

“I left it at the restaurant,” she admitted quietly, turning to Jungkook.

For a moment he just looked at her.

“You don’t have your ID?”

“It’s at the restaurant.”

“Uh…”

He froze. He looked between her and the employee and Alex knew that look: somebody fix this for me because I don’t know what to do now. Usually she didn’t see that look unless he was drunk or in emotional crisis. Neither was true now, except that he still wasn’t saying anything.

“Is there another tasting tonight?” Alex asked the employee.

“No, I’m sorry. I can reschedule you for another day?”

“Could he start the tasting now and I’ll go and come back–”

“No, you’ll miss the whole thing,” Jungkook said, reanimated. He pulled his ID off the counter and tucked it back into his wallet. “Ok, we’ll go. Thanks anyway.”

“I’m sorry, I guess it fell out of my purse under the table,” she explained as they left the place. He didn’t say anything. She couldn’t tell if he was pissed or disappointed, but she felt bad either way. “I’m really sorry, Jungkook.”

“It’s fine. It doesn’t matter,” he sighed. “Uh…” They reached the car and he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. She didn’t know what he was thinking about or if he was just trying to control his emotions or what. “You want me just to take you home? This is all kind of a bust, huh?”

“Wha? No, don’t take me home yet!”

“You sure? ‘Cause this a pretty fail date so–”

“Oh my god are you serious right now?” she laughed. “It’s fine! Things go wrong sometimes, it’s not that serious. Can’t we just find something else to do?”

He let out a deep, heavy sigh.

“Hey look, I’m sorry I fucked up the wine tasting. We can just do that on another date, I’ll book it.”

“Yeah but…”

“Let’s just go to minigolf or something–”

“I’m not taking you to minigolf,” he huffed, and crossed his arms and leaned against the car, and rolled his eyes.

And frankly, Alex had had enough.

“Why the fuck not? What’s wrong with minigolf? What’s wrong with Taco Bell? I don’t want to be a bitch because I know you put all this effort into planning all of these things but why are you acting like we’re suddenly too good to– ok, we tried this fancy stuff and things went wrong so let’s just do something else! It doesn’t have to be a big deal!”

“It does have to be a big deal, Alex! It’s our first fucking date!”

“So?!” she shouted, throwing her arms up.

“What do you mean ‘so’?! It’s our first date! The first date we ever go on!” he shouted back.

“Yeah I know that! But it doesn’t have to be like some big…” She couldn’t think of the right words. Her shouting fizzled a bit as she thought through what he’d just said, and how actually very sweet that was.

“I wanted it to be big,” he insisted. “Hoseok always took you on these big fancy dates, right? Yeah, I can do that too!”

“Oh, Jungkook,” she sighed. And walked around and grabbed his coat and headbutted his chest and let her head rest there. “You dummy.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about what Hoseok did. Who cares?”

“You cared.”

“Past tense,” she pointed out, craning her neck to look up at him from so close. “Now I’m out on a date with you. I don’t have this like high expectation of–”

“Of a good date? You should. That’s shitty, I don’t–”

“We can do anything and it’s a good date. I just wanted to spend time with you. We already know all kinds of things we like doing together.”

“Yeah but this isn’t just hanging out, Alex. It’s a date date. I wanted it to be special.”

“It is special, you idiot.” She hit him on the arm several times to try and make him smile. “It’s us. Obviously it’s special.”

“No, we’ve always been just friends. This needs to be big so you know it’s different–”

“Do you think I’m a stupid little baby? Is that why you were telling me about baby brains? I know this is different! You brought me flowers and looked all nervous and awkward on my couch!” It was more fun to tease him than admit her own nerves as she’d dressed and redressed and then redressed again. But the excitement for her had been a thousand times louder than the nerves. Nervous-excited, not nervous-afraid.

He sounded nervous-afraid.

“Yeah but–”

“I put on sexy underwear and eyeliner! The pointy way you said looks good!”

“I know that– I mean not about the underwear but–”

“So why are you being so weird about our date? There’s no point if you don’t actually enjoy spending time with me.”

“What are you talking about?” he demanded, eyebrows furrowing into the little V she had predicted. “Of course I like spending time with you.”

“Yeah? What do you like doing with me?”

“I don’t know, just… stuff. Like… but it’s just been friend stuff before–”

“I’m no expert, but I think dating is kind of just doing the same things we always did except we say it’s a date now,” she pointed out. “You don’t think so? Or are you worried you don’t actually like me or something?”

“I like you, Alex, that’s why I’m nervous. Pretty sure I used a word stronger than ‘like’ before too.”

She let that sit for a moment. Hearing Jungkook admit he was nervous was a completely different lens to look at the whole evening. Hearing Jungkook reiterate that he liked her was like, nauseatingly unbelievable. 

Ok, now she was having a harder time not being nervous-afraid because yeah, this was pretty crazy, being on a date date with Jungkook that he was taking so seriously because he liked her and she liked him too. Oh god.

“Are you… are you just cranky because you’re worried about having a bad first date?” she fumbled out.

“Yeah! Obviously! Jesus, it’s like you– are you fucking with me right now?!”

“Oh my god, you are so high strung right now,” she sighed and pulled on his jacket. “Jungkook! Chill! Are you serious?”

“I just…”

“Baby,” she said, and reached up to grab his face in a burst of confidence fueled by all of his nonsense. “Baby Koo.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

“No, don’t be grumpy. Look at me.” He begrudgingly did so; he didn’t have much of a choice with her holding his head. “Thank you for a wonderful dinner and for scheduling the wine tasting I fucked up. This whole evening is really special to me. The fact you worked so hard to make it special makes me feel really special. I don’t want to say goodnight yet, so I’d really like ice cream and minigolf with you.”

“Why are you so obsessed with minigolf?” he mumbled.

“I don’t know, I just think it’s a cute date idea and I like doing dumb things like that with you,” she shrugged, letting her hands fall away. He caught hold of them though and held. His fingers were cold. “I’m still allowed to like it, even when it’s a date date.”

“Yeah, well…” His mouth twisted in thought, so cute. “My original plan was to do minigolf,” he confessed. “And the taco truck. But then everyone acted like that was really lame and low effort so I wanted to do something bigger so you would know–”

“Fuck that!” Alex cried. “And fuck them! I like minigolf and tacos!”

“I know you like that but I wanted to like… I want you to be all giddy and stuff, you know? No one gets giddy over minigolf.”

“They do when they win,” she beamed. “You wouldn’t know about that. Since you never win.” 

His eyes narrowed. “Uh, pretty sure I always beat your ass. I can’t let you win, just because it’s a date.”

“Who said anything about let?”

“Ugggh but see? I can’t beat your ass, that’ll be a bad date.”

“Then let me win.”

“You’d hate me forever.”

“I wouldn’t hate you! I’d just be shocked you were down that bad for me– I don’t think your ego could let someone–”

“Hey, I let girls win that shit all the time,” he interrupted. “I don’t let you win because I respect you so much.”

“Yeah or because you aren’t trying to get into my pants.”

“No, but I do want into your pants now.”

“Well… sounds like you know what to do then…” She grinned and wiggled her eyebrows and felt full body relief. Everything made so much more sense now. She should have figured it out sooner that Jungkook was just nervous and frustrated that things weren’t going to his plan when he was trying so hard! But how could she have guessed he was this worked up about impressing her? It was just her!

“Alex,” he whined her name. She started to walk around the car but he was still holding her wrist and pulled her back. “We can’t play minigolf. Forty years from now we’ll be talking about our first date and I’m going to say I took you to play fucking minigolf?”

Damn. Damn that sounded serious. 

“Um, well,” she stammered, distracted at the casual way in which he’d basically just been like yeah we’re going to be together forever. “Well first you’ll probably tease me about forgetting my wallet and then you’ll probably tease me about being easy or childish because I wanted to play minigolf.”

“Ah, that’s true… you asked for it. I’m just giving you what you wanted.” His voice lowered as he said it, as he pulled her closer, no secret about the innuendo.

“Giving me what I want is always the right move,” she agreed, and lifted her face so he wouldn’t have to crouch too far for the kiss she thought he was leading into. There was only a moment of hesitation during which she worried she’d read him wrong. Maybe this just wasn’t normal yet, but they wanted it. He smiled into the kiss, giving too much teeth against hers, but she tilted her face and the kiss softened and Alex forgot to breathe. You know, just Jungkook, kissing her in the parking lot, nose pressed against hers, warm breath and saliva mingling with hers.

She overbalanced on her toes and they fell back against his car but he caught his own weight and towered over her. 

“Maybe you should go back to being pissy and mean,” she breathed.

“Huh?”

“You’re making me dizzy,” she admitted with a laugh. “I know we kissed the other night but–” 

Jungkook cut her off with another kiss that made her toes curl and her heart stutter.

“Yeah?” he murmured, sounding a bit breathless himself as his nose gently nudged hers. “Am I giving you butterflies kissing you in the parking lot of the wine tasting we didn’t get to do?”

“Yeah.”

He sighed, wine-scented breath warm across her face. “Can you please be a little more high maintenance? I’m giving you permission to be demanding!”

“Oh, I will be, without your permission,” she assured him with a cheeky grin. “You seem to be forgetting– well, I won’t remind you. You just keep those rose-tinted glasses on for a while. At least until I make you cry at minigolf.”

“Ok, are you just forgetting that you’re really bad at minigolf? Because I have not forgotten it–”

“That’s not true! I’ve won before!”

“Yeah, by sabotaging me,” he pointed out.

“Mm-hm and now I can sabotage you even more, right? Like… oops I dropped my ball!” she joked and slid from his arms to bend over and pick it up. So he had a nice profile of just how high her skirt would go. She was wearing tights, it wasn’t going to show anything but look, she’d learned a few things over the years about what Jungkook liked. He liked the tease. The suggestion. Maybe he liked it more than the real thing. 

She hoped he didn’t like the idea of her more than the real thing.

Also he really liked ass, so at least that was a safe bet.

He grumbled and demanded, “How many dates do we have to go on before I’m allowed to spank when you do something like that?”

Oh god be cool she begged herself because, you know, Jungkook had basically just asked to spank her. Jungkook. Spanking her. Just… spanking her. Cool. Cool cool.

“Um… three.”

He looked unhappy about it but nodded, “Ok. So you’re just going to tease me a lot tonight then?”

“Yeah, probably. But if you cry when you lose, I’ll comfort you. I’m not totally mean.”

“Yeah, I’ll give you a hug when you lose,” he promised. “I’m a caring date.”

“You’re a nice guy.”

“Yeah, I’m a nice guy,” he laughed, then tried to tickle and poke her through her coat. “I am. Sorry if I was weird or whatever tonight.”

“Hey, why are you talking like the night is over? You are still on a date,” she argued. 

“Right right, I have to make your dreams come true. Minigolf and ice cream.”

“And you,” she added, sort of without meaning to. At least the vulnerability of it hit her after she’d said the words. She just had meant to specify he was an important part of why she would like those things on a date!

But the thing was, she didn’t really feel vulnerable tonight in a bad way. She didn’t feel as nervous or impostery as she had feared. This was Jungkook! She didn’t think there was anyone in the world she was safer with and all his efforts and overthinking seemed to prove that. He’d taken on all the nerves for her. What a great guy.

He smiled, that goofy crooked toothy grin of her best friend, and said, “Well call me a dreamboy, baby, because I’m about to make all your dreams come true–”

“Ok you did not get laid with lines like that,” Alex said with a roll of her eyes.

“Yeah, sure I did!”

“No.”

“I did! Are you saying that did not make you cream your panties? What kind of panties did you say again–”

“Oh my god, just get in the car.”

“Fine, what date can I ask about your panties? Because I thought that one was ok since we talked about it the other night.”

“My panties?”

“Yeah.”

“You mean because you’ve been hoarding my underwear at your–”

“Woah woah I did not– I told you they were just mixed in with–”

“They?! How many of my underwear do you have?!”

“Get in the car, Song.”

She giggled and continued to taunt him as the car heated up and he looked up places. There was an indoor one at the mall they were familiar with but Alex wanted the outside one which was still open through the end of the month and served ice cream.

“You sure you’re ok with outside?”

“I’ll be fine! I have a coat and sweater tights.”

“Oh is that why they look fancy?”

“Yeah, they’re textured. Want to feel them?” she teased as he drove. But he took the advantage, letting his hand slide across her thigh. She got very quiet. His hand just looked so familiar and comfortable there, like that was his thigh. 

“Yeah, I like these,” he nodded. “Your whole outfit.”

She waited, then sighed, “You noticed I couldn’t get my eyeliner straight, didn’t you?”

“Well, that’s why you have me now,” he laughed. “I can help next time.”

“Look you weren’t the only one nervous, ok?”

“Yeah? What were you nervous about, baby?” he asked, still rubbing her thigh. He might as well have been rubbing somewhere else with that firm grip. The devil part of her wanted to just ask him to let his hand run higher, maybe a sequel to the other night…

“Yeah don’t act all cocky now. I know your secret!” she retorted and adjusted her skirt.

“What’s my secret?”

“You like me.”

“You’re right, that is a very well kept secret,” he laughed. “Please don’t spread that around. There might still be a couple people in town I didn’t drunkenly blab that to in the last few months.”

She sighed happily at his expense. Maybe the craziest thing wasn’t being on a date with ex-best-turned-best-friend-again Jungkook. Maybe the craziest thing was that being on an actual date with him didn’t feel as crazy as she’d always expected it to. Would that come later? She hadn’t felt mismatched on his arm walking into either restaurant like she’d expected to. Yes, he was the hottest guy in any room. And he wanted to put his face between her legs, so what did that make her?

Ok, that part was still a little wild and crazy. Not only that he’d wanted to but she’d let him. Maybe she’d even let him do it for real next time.

“You ok?”

“Hm?”

“Is it too hot in here now?” he asked.

“Yeah, way too hot,” she agreed, reaching forward to crank the heat down. Jungkook cracked the windows. She drank the cool air in and pushed back against the warm tingling starting to build up. 

“So what did your parents say when you told them I was picking you up for a date tonight?” he asked, throat clearing. It made her suspicious in two directions.

“Why, what did they say to you?” she asked, the safer question than: why you clearing your throat, boo? Whatcha thinking about? 

“Nothing, they were just acting kind of weird…”

“I told them we were going on a date date and they were just like ‘oh really? That’s nice.’ I don’t think they believed me!”

“Well I was dressed up with flowers.”

“Plus you were acting super weird too,” Alex pointed out.

“Thanks, babe.”

His hand left her thigh as he took a sharp turn and Alex wished he’d read her mind and put it back, but he did not.

“Let’s get your wallet, dummy.”

Fifteen minutes and one returned wallet later, he pulled into the minigolf parking lot and pressed, “You sure you want to do this?”

“Why? You scared?”

“No, I meant because it’s cold–”

“You’re scared.”

“I’m not scared, Alex. You golf like a toddler.”

“It’s minigolf, that’s the point!”

“That’s not the… whatever, ice cream before or after?”

“During. I’m ready to doublefist a cone and a club.”

It really was fucking cold outside, but the course was lit and they weren’t the only ones. The snack bar served them the ice cream, the employee giving them a raised eyebrow but handing the cones over. Jungkook hit his first ball straight into a pond and Alex got a scathing look from a mom when she shouted what are you the fucking hulk? It’s minigolf! While he shouted accusations at her That was your fault! Why are you bending over like that to tie your shoe? Your boots don’t even have laces! 

The truth was they were both pretty bad at minigolf tonight. Their teeth chattered and they huddled together from one hole to the next. They fucked with each other every single turn –dirty jokes, terrible impersonations, quoting memes and movies they knew would get a rise out of each other. Jungkook tried the same move she’d done in the beginning, even pulling his coat up to make sure she could see his ass, sulked when it didn’t work, and pretended like he was going to do a full on striptease –which would definitely have led to Alex’s premature death. Later she offered to suck his fingers to warm them up and he fell to the ground claiming he’d sprained his dick. 

And then it started to rain.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Jungkook shouted as Alex grabbed his hand and ran with him into the mountain tunnel in the center of the course. “It wasn’t supposed to rain until 9!”

“The weather does what it wants.”

“Yeah but it’s fucking with my date. You don’t like getting rained on! Unless today is the day we try the naked thing–”

She laughed and pulled him down closer to kiss his wet face. His skin was so cold. Their lips and noses were stiff. The sweetness of his mint choco ice cream lingered on his tongue. Alex stood on the railing for height and lost herself in the taste. She thought she’d be taking this dumb fantasy to her grave and yet here they were, making out in the minigolf mountain like the horny teenages they hadn’t gotten to be with each other. 

After several long, lazy, uncounted minutes had passed, they huddled together at the exit to survey the remaining distance. The rain was not letting up.

“Did you make it rain?” he demanded. “You’re that upset I’m beating you?”

“Uh… you aren’t beating me.”

“Alex, I’m totally beating you.”

“You totally aren’t.”

“Then what’s the score?”

“I don’t know but you don’t know either!”

“7-11.”

“You liar!” she laughed and tried to hit his ass. “Fine, we’ll count for real now.”

“Wait, what for real now? It’s raining!”

“It’s not raining that hard.”

“It’s hard enough!” he cried, then instantly laughed and wiggled his eyebrows, then groaned, “But I’m not, I’m freezing!”

“All right, let’s golf fast! Orrrr you could admit defeat.”

“Never,” he glared and grabbed his putter and took off.

The cheating was flagrant and largely futile. Putters were traded for kicking, rolling, and eventually just dropping the ball in the hole. They shouted numbers to make each other lose count. They were laughing so hard, doubled over at times as the rain grew heavier and colder. She really did hate the way her clothes and hair clung to her wet skin, but it was worth it to endure. This was a special night.

“We’re idiots!” Alex laughed, then shrieked as she slipped on a little bridge. Jungkook dove forward and rammed his elbow on the metal railing, didn’t help her, and sank to the ground like he’d been knocked out. “Get up! Get up! You’ll get hypothermia!”

Instead he took her putter and shouted, “Good luck winning now!” and limped forward, clutching his elbow. Alex ran ahead of him and managed to shove her ball into the final return hole just as he tried to kick his in. Instead he kicked her in the shoulder and shouted in horror. She tried to stand, he tried to crouch.

“Fuck!”

“Up up we have to get back to the car, we’re going to freeze to death!” Jungkook shouted at her, grabbing her arm. They half-limped, half-ran back to the parking lot, tossing their putters in the return rack without stopping.

“We’re such idiots, we’re going to get sick and die,” Alex wailed as they stripped their wet coats off and shoved them in the backseat. Jungkook cranked the heat up. “Fuck, I hate my bangs!” she laughed, swiping at the hair plastered to her face, poking her in the eyes. “At least I wore my contacts.”

Jungkook’s hands replaced hers, pushing them back, followed by his cold lips against her forehead, her nose and then her mouth, all one smooth motion that completely overwhelmed her. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders in surprise as he grabbed her arms and pulled her closer, like the laughter and running and cheating had turned into raw energy that he now funneled into a hard, desperate kiss. The joy in that kiss made the world spin around her. The windows were fogging up and she felt that desperation again. Touch me, taste me, take me, do anything to me, let me be the girl you want.

“Alex.”

“Koo.”

His breath warmed her frozen nose and stung her frozen cheeks. 

“Was this the worst date ever?”

She glared. “No! It was good because it was with me, right?”

“We’re both going to get the flu.”

“Stop complaining and just kiss me again,” she ordered, pulling him across the console this time. He pressed her into the seat, contorted, mouth getting hotter against hers by the second. 

“God I can’t believe this was the best date of my life,” he completely contradicted himself.

The giggles burst out of her, “Damn. Really? That’s sad–”

He shoved icy fingers under her sweater to tickle and she screamed and kicked the dashboard in her attempts to flee. He just wrapped his arms around her and pressed his frozen nose into her neck, squeezing tighter.

“You asshole, let me go!”

“Never.”

“Jungkook!”

“You said you wanted outdoor minigolf, you suffer the consequences! I’m warming my nose up.”

“I’m so uncomfortably wet!”

“Yeah baby–”

“No, in a bad way!”

“Love leaving a girl wet in a bad way on our first date–” She couldn’t hear what else he said, drowned out by her laughter. Someone was going to think they were fucking in here with the way windows had fogged up so quickly and they were shaking the car. She pushed him away and adjusted the heat and wiped at the condensation on her window. Now it was uncomfortably hot, and also her clothing really felt disgusting like this. The fluffy sweater was scratchy and gross. She pulled it away from her skin but it just clung right back.

Jungkook shook his head.

“What?”

“I tried so hard to make this date nice,” he laughed.

“Oh my god you’re so hung up on this. I’m having a great time!”

But perfectionist Jungkook. She should have known he’d have some specific idea in mind! He struggled when things didn’t go the way he planned, if he wanted them a certain way. Usually he’d insist he didn’t care and overcompensate in his frustration, make too much of a joke about things in an effort to be cool that was always obvious and annoying. He hadn’t done that! But she knew frustration lingered with him and she didn’t want that to be what overshadowed their date!

“Seriously. Please don’t remember our first date as a failure. Ok, how about this, what if we decide this was just a trial run.”

“Uh huh.”

“Our next date is our first date,” she explained, twisting in the seat. It was gross, her tights and skirt squished. “We’ll just keep having first dates until you’re happy.”

“Wait, but I’m happy. Don’t make it sound like I’m not.”

“Uh, you aren’t though, you’re the only one in this car who’s unhappy.”

“I’m happy,” he insisted, eyebrows going up, lips pouting. “It’s just not as good as I wanted to do for you, but I’m happy. Why wouldn’t I be? I’m on a date with Alex Song!”

“Oh please…”

“I meant that seriously.”

“You said it like a joke.”

“I meant it seriously,” he insisted. “I want to impress you, you know? You’ve seen the worst of me for so long, I want you to see the best of me too. Like that I can take you on a really fun, nice date, not that I’m just some lazy, sex-obsessed asshole–.”

“I see the best of you all the time too, or I wouldn’t be on a date with you in the first place. I already know we can have a great time even when things go wrong. This date was genuinely great but even if it was actually awful, I’d still have fun with you, it’s one of the things I’ve always… liked about you.” Loved about you.

She didn’t say it.

She balked.

She didn’t know why she didn’t say it. She had expected the words to just roll right off her tongue. Because she did, she knew she loved him, and not too long ago she could have said it without any hesitation.

But it meant something more now, and the words tangled up behind her cold teeth.

She hurried to add, “I know that you can be both a really sweet, thoughtful guy and a lazy, sex-obsessed–”

“Ok ok,” he huffed, pouting he’d set her up for a zinger like that. He turned on the headlights and sighed. “I’d better get you home so you can put on your jammies. I’ll feel like an asshole if I really do get you sick right before Christmas.”

“I’m the one who insisted on minigolf.”

“Ok, it’s your fault then.”

“Jungkook!”

“Hey don’t hit me, I’m driving! That’s just what we need tonight, a car wreck!”

“Fine, you’re safe for now…”

She curled up in her seat and tried not to make it obvious she was staring at him. The streetlights flickering through the rain on the windshield cast spotted shadows on his wet face but she could tell his nose was still red and sniffly. 

He was cute. And sweet. It was endearing he’d been so serious and competitive about their date. She’d known him for so long but still she had learned something new about him tonight: he was not confident on a date. She had always known he had a gooey soft interior but he was so suave with women, she had assumed he would be all confidence and charm on a date. Instead he was a grumpy sulky baby when things weren’t going the way he planned. 

Her grumpy sulky baby. Just like she’d always wanted. Hot as shit on the outside, sulky baby on the inside.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, glancing nervously her way at a red light.

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“Nothing!”

He reached out and sank his fingers into her thigh like a claw.

“NO! Don’t tickle me, you’re driving!” she shrieked and tried to fend him off. Fortunately the light turned green, saving her. “Rude!”

“I just want to know what you're thinking. I’m on pins and needles here.”

She decided to tease him more. “Well… I’m thinking I’d like to see you again.”

“Oh? Yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe at our joint family dinner on Christmas Eve?”

“Booo,” he scowled. “Before that. That’s not a date, that’s a duty.”

“You want another date before that?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow, I’m a really good date, huh?” she grinned.

“Yeah, you’re cute.”

“I was joking!”

“I’m not.”

“Fine. How about I’ll plan the next date. When are you free, is it on the calendar?”

“Yeah, it’s on the calendar. Any time I’m not working is yours.”

She didn’t comment. She couldn’t comment on any of these things. Because this was just mundane, joky conversation, but the fact they casually making more plans together hit her like a bus. Part of her brain was like yeah, making plans with Jungkook, totally normal while the other part reminded you’re dating Jungkook. 

He pulled to a stop in front of her house and started to get out.

“No don’t walk me to the door, it’s still pouring.”

“Yeah, but–”

“No, seriously. My parents might be watching the door anyway.”

“Yeah but…”

“Hey,” she said. “Save it for the first date. I’ll walk you to your front door at the end of the night.”

“Oh you’re driving?”

“Yeah, babygirl, we are equals,” she grinned.

“Did you just… just ‘babygirl’ me?”

“Yesssss,” she started to laugh before his fingers even tried to wedge under her shirt again. He kissed her before she caught her breath; she laughed and squirmed and it made their lips slide, the messiest kiss. 

“K, get out of my car, I need to get home and shower before I get sick,” he said.

“Hold on, Jesus, I’m dizzy.”

“Huh?”

“You can’t just kiss a girl like that and then kick her out of your car, I’ll trip and die–”

“Ok, I’m walking you in.”

“No, stay put.”

“You said you’re dizzy!”

She squeezed his face so full of concern, and shook her head, “Goodnight. Thanks for the amazing date, I had a lot of fun despite your whining about it.”

“Hey!”

His shouted protests were swallowed quickly by the rain as she held her coat over her head and ran into her house. She was right that Baba had been watching the door and swung it open to let her in quickly.

“Alex, you’re wet! Did you get caught in the rain?”

“Thanks, Baba, goodnight!” Alex sang as she yanked her boots off, tossed her coat, and floated to her room. 

There in the privacy of her bedroom, she covered her face and let out a silent scream.

He tried so hard!

He cared so much!

He was so handsome!

He was so awkward about their date and god, she loved him for it. Didn’t he understand how perfect it was? It was exactly what she had hoped for. The effort. The attention. All for her. 

She looked forward to teasing him about it for forty years. 

Especially the photo he posted to his Snap and Insta story of him with a towel around his shoulders, shirt clinging to his body, hair damp and tousled, giving a thumbs-up with the caption yeah everything went wrong but I got a second date so… Followed by a text only post on insta lol she ain’t on here fam she deleted insta a while ago

So he wasn’t talking about their date on insta as some kind of game or lure or to signal to her that he wasn’t still trying to hook up with women? He did it just to… share? Brag? Signal to women on instagram he wasn’t looking? Was he just excited about his date and used to sharing things on social media and didn’t think through the impact on his free sex life because that wasn’t a priority to him?

“Grrrr why are you so fucking cute,” she grumbled. “I’m supposed to be the cute one. Stay in your hot lane. ”

She DMed him a kissy face emoji in response to the story to give him a heart attack and went to shower. And afterwards had a good laugh when the stories and the pre-date photo were gone.

[AlandPals]: 😘

[TheJK.97]: 😎

[AlandPals]: take off the sunglasses

[TheJK.97]:  😵🪦

[TheJK.97]:  so uh when did you dl insta?

[AlandPals]: night bunny

[TheJK.97]:  that is NOT my petname

[TheJK.97]:  night earwig

[AlandPals]: night weevil

[TheJK.97]:  night shrimp cocktail

[AlandPals]: night nutter butter

[TheJK.97]:  night cheeto finger

[AlandPals]: night kookie crisp

[TheJK.97]:  night booberry

[TheJK.97]:  night pistachio

[TheJK.97]: night titmouse (that’s a bird look it up)

[TheJK.97]: did you fall asleep on me??

[TheJK.97]: I win 😁

Alex let him have this one. He’d earned it.

KEEP READING PARTY B

[chilapis]

hi again almandine !! i hope uve been taking care of urself too and eating well ; ur most recent post reminded me that i wanted to ask, what does a sparring session between u and ajax usually look like ? does he use his foul legacy form ? id love to hear abt the specifics on ur hcs for ur s/is powers 🙇‍♀️🫶 wishing u well !!

HIIII, hi, Clara! It’s such a delight to see you again, I hope you’ve been well! <33

I feel like playfighting is, a fairly popular pastime for us together? And by playfighting I mean “we’re leaving this interaction with water in our lungs and scorched skin that hurts to to the touch.”

I’m still slightly unsure which direction I want to take the Genshin self-insert in but having a comfort + universal s/i that is quite literally “just me does” somewhat allow me more freedom and creative liberty with with the former so I’m making little changes here and there pretty actively.

I know in yesterday’s post I was like Genshin Lapis “has killed millions & will do so again” but I think I’m more inclined to take her into a different direction of “has killed millions & now just wants to settle down peacefully” — meaning that I think GI Lapis would be on the same power level as his foul legacy form, but definitely goes easier on him on purpose during sparring. It’s not because he thinks of Ajax as weak (she’s lovestruck & probably regularly tells him he’s the strongest warrior she’s ever seen in the many years that she has roamed the planet) but rather because all things considered, GI lapis is still… you know, the pyro dragon sovereign? And despite harnessing the power of the abyss and utilising foul legacy, Ajax is still only human.

I should mention that I’m not a huge fan of mortal/immortal dynamics personally but I hardly doubt that Tartaglia subscribes to “mortality” as we know it; if he did, the use of his delusion and foul legacy would have destroyed and terminated him by now, so I view him as human but not… mortal per se? That said, Ajax would be insistent on going all out, both of them, but she scolds him because she knows how using his foul legacy affects his health and it worries her. They still spar a lot! Lapis isn’t into fighting that much anymore but she is absolutely invested in improving Ajax’s skills. Just because she is against using her own full power and adamantly against him using foul legacy in their sparring sessions (unless it’s a special occasion) does not mean she won’t literally make it rain fire on him. They are both utterly infatuated though so no matter who wins in the end, it still ends with the two giggling & telling each other throw well they did while cuddling into each other (despite being uh, soaking wet with water and sweat combined). Technically both are victors every round; one wins through combat skill, the other wins by getting pinned to the floor. Godspeed

You know that one dialogue Ajax has about even taking on the Harbingers? Yeah, she supports that idea 100%; she LOATHES the fatui and the tsaritsa (+ her harbingers) (lapis finds them pretentious) and her personal pride doesn’t find the idea of being on the absolute top of the food chain not too bad either, so, he needs to be used to breaking a few bones here and there. Plus, Lapis doesn’t engage in her previous aggressions anymore so, it’s good to get some exercise in, she supposes. It’s a win-win.

As for specifics on her powers! I’m going to be talking from a gameplay perspective here. First of all? I’m pulling the same stunt MiHoYo pulled with the Tartaglia boss fight; the atmosphere during it, the intense music, the panic when you first fight him as one of the first ever bosses (though he becomes literally the easiest one after, whoops), his foul legacy attacks, the way he dashes so fast, the magnificent creature he summons from hydro — it’s intense, it’s gorgeous. And then uh, there’s the playable Tartaglia — who is, you know, not bad! I love him even though I always have terrible luck on his banners despite the fact that I started playing in 2021. But he is still just a tad… underwhelming compared to the grandness of the version of him that we fought.

Anyway, you’re getting the same thing with GI Lapis. He isn’t fast like Ajax but she is, um, like twice the size of foul legacy in her dragon form if not even bigger so that isn’t necessary anyhow. I actually want her to be fairly tall and domineering in her dragon/boss battle form, just like… slightly smaller than Azhdaha? She doesn’t change elements or such however; she remains bound to pyro. I do however want her boss battle to be in a really shallow water body so that the player is almost constantly experiencing reverse vapourise unless they pull some fuckass geo structure bullshit. I want the boss battle music to be quite similar to the Bloodborne soundtrack OSTs but with some Doom themes. Something cathartic and visceral, you know? And then there’s… her as a playable character.

Best support character/sub-DPS for Childe you can imagine. First of all? Pyro and Hydro = vapourise, which is arguably one of the best — if not the best — reactions in the game. Secondly… I want to somehow add energy recharge to her kit (preferably through one of the active skills) so that it enhances Tartaglia’s riptide the way Raiden does. I may make her either a catalyst or a sword (or claymore!) user depending on how I feel, that part is still undecided. As for her passive skill, I think it’d be so much funnier if MiHoYo made it specific like “Increases full team’s ATK by 10% if Tartaglia is in the team, with an additional 10% ATK bonus if vapourise is performed using both character’s skills” Imagine literally requiring another character to fully be able to utilise one character’s kit? Can you imagine the profit they’d make? I could be the perfect cashcow. Non-game play powers also include knife throwing, skill with blades in general and oh! She naturally runs cold and craves warmth so she is constantly using a little bit of her pyro powers to keep herself pleasantly warm.

I also think all of this would tie in nicely with the fact that GI Lapis is no longer the fearmongering dragon warlord that she once was? He, like the other dragons we’ve seen so far, is… more or less just enjoying retirement and works in the legal field almost entirely for fun (and mora); so her being on the battlefield or fighting will literally always 100% be because Ajax is involved somehow and she would do Anything to protect this man, no matter how stupid the thing may be. Plus she likes having a “justified” excuse to be a menace from time to time anyway. To summarise the lore I have for her: war lord dragon sovereign who used to consider international peace a mere suggestion suddenly decides on giving up violence and settling down with some random anime-european man. So. You know.

[uridestiny]

The Warrior of the Moon Chapter 6: Welcome home

Previous chapter:

https://www.tumblr.com/uridestiny/737467047815036928/the-warrior-of-the-moon-chapter-5-kindness-from?source=share

I don't remember at what point I fell asleep, I only know that, when I opened my eyes, I was inside a hollow log, I had a hard time believing where I was, I even blinked several times while dragging my body out of the log, that's when my mind was finally able to reason that I was not dreaming; I had returned to The Shroud , I had done it... Thanks to Khistis...

I looked at my surroundings, a lot of vegetation and the clear sound of a flowing stream of water, probably a nearby river; I decided to follow the sound, my throat was extremely dry.

I walked clumsily through the undergrowth and some bushes, looking around at all times. It had been 2 years since I had last set foot in the forest, but I had never gone on my own to explore beyond the grounds of our house without my parents. But now... I had to move on my own.

Thanks to my hearing, I managed to find the river; I had to jump over some rocks to reach the shore and bend over to collect some water with my hands. The taste was really different from the metal containers that they always gave us in our cells, but when this water passed through my mouth and throat, it was wonderful, refreshing and delicious, it was as if I had found the best water in the world.

But before I could continue taking more, I heard a screech near me, turned around and saw two marmots growling aggressively at me. I felt great fear and ran as fast as I could from the river. I had made a basic mistake, my father told me that all wild animals always look for a source of water, and I must be careful not to be close to an animal and respect its space.

And apparently I made that mistake too soon.

The marmots didn't stop chasing me even though I ran a good distance, but unfortunately for me I tripped and scraped my knee. It hurt a lot, because of the fall and the pain I couldn't get up and continue running, of my fear I screamed out loud.

Maybe that day was luck or maybe a mere coincidence... Or maybe Hydaelyn's will, but suddenly an arrow appeared and came between me and the marmots.

When I looked up to look for the origin of the arrow, I saw a Miqo'te man riding a chocobo, on the chocobo's saddle he proudly carried the banner of Gridania.

The man jumped off his mount, stood upright and scared away the marmots with some arrows. His chocobo stayed next to him in a defensive position, looking around to see if there was still any danger. After a few seconds, the man picked up his bow and placed it on his back, also keeping the arrow he intended to use.

¨Are you okay little one?¨  The man asked and crouched down to be at my height.

I couldn't say anything to him, I was afraid that it was a person with bad intentions, at that point, I felt confused in distinguishing who could be a friend or an enemy.

At my silence, he checked the wound on my knee.

"I'm not an expert in healing, but I can do a small healing spell to heal a wound like this" The man said. He took off the glove from one of his hands and tried to bring his hand closer to me, I crawled back.

He immediately noticed that I was too scared, he raised his hands, trying to look helpless.

"Wait, I don't want to hurt you, I just want to heal your wound."

I didn't say anything, I lowered my head.

¨Kheh!¨ The chocobo whistles with joy.

I looked at the chocobo, it was the first time I had seen one so close, a large bird with bright yellow feathers and dark brown eyes. Then he brought his beak closer to my cheek, leaning on me. I raised my hand and caressed its beak, at that moment I thought that this bird was the cutest and friendliest I had ever met.

¨Koro likes you, he's usually not very friendly with strangers."

The chocobo let me pet his head, from his beak to whatever feathers I could reach, then the man took advantage of the moment to use his healing spell on me, and before I knew it, my knee had healed.

¨There, that's all.¨ He said ¨Tell me little one, why are you here alone? You got lost?¨

I couldn't answer, I focused my attention on the chocobo I was now hugging. The man's expression changed and he stood up. "I think it's better to consult with Brother E-Sumi-Yan."

Without getting too close to me, he said, "Koro and I want to help you, but we need you to come with us. Do you think you can accompany us for a while?"

I remember hearing about Brother E-Sumi-Yan, dad had mentioned him once, and said that he was someone very important who looked out for the good of the forest and the well-being of the inhabitants of Shroud.

I nodded.

¨My name is Adrien Urih, I am a soldier from The Order of the Twin Adder, therefore, I dedicate myself to caring for the inhabitants of the forest and Gridania. And since you are in the forest, it is my duty to help you, a girl like you shouldn’t be alone, so, we will seek the advice of the wisest in the forest to help us, is that okay with you?¨

I nodded again and this time he smiled.

¨Do you feel good to walk? Or would you like to ride Koro?¨

I didn't want to separate myself from the chocobo, and I hugged him tighter. He understood my answer and took me in his arms to place me on the seat of the saddle. It was the first time I rode one, then he got on after me.

¨Look, this is for holding, handle it with care, Koro gets angry easily if you pull too hard.¨

We both guided Koro, although it was more than clear that Adrien was the one in control, he let me continue holding the leather of the halter.

When we arrived at Gridania, Koro had to stay outside, since it was not appropriate for animals to cross beyond the wall that divided the city and the external forest, even within Gridania, many attributes of nature were still preserved, with the slight impression that this place was populated. People really showed great respect for what nature has to offer.

Adrien guided me through several paths, until we entered a cave only illuminated by flashlights, in the end we reached a door and entered. Several conjurers were present, listening to Brother E-Sumi-Yan's words.

Seeing how busy he was, Adrien approached one of the conjurers and asked for a moment to speak with Brother E-Sumi-Yan on a matter that required his guidance.

After a while waiting and playing with the small ball that Adrien lent me, Brother E-Sumi-Yan separated from the group of conjurers and approached us.

¨My apologies for keeping you waiting, I understand that you want my guidance on a specific topic.¨

Adrien explained to Brother E-Sumi-Yan about the situation and how he found me. After that, he approached me and closed his eyes, when he opened them again, he looked very sad.

¨You have gone through so much, the elementals had lost your trace, 2 long years with your absence, but you didn’t do it of your own free will... Finally you returned and they receive you with open arms, you have reciprocated their kindness and they guided you here. Welcome home A'riane.¨

There was a pause and Brother E-Sumi-Yan asked to speak to Adrien alone, but I was able to hear them thanks to my good hearing.

Adrien asked what he was talking about and brother E-Sumi-Yan told him that 2 years ago the elementals guided him deep into the forest where the lifeless bodies of my parents were found, but with no trace of their daughter, they mean me. Although the scene was examined and an attempt was made to find more evidence of the possible perpetrator of the crime, there was not enough information to reach a conclusion, but most importantly, no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t find me and I was classified as a missing girl.

These words resonated strongly with Adrien and he made a request.

"Can I become her guardian?"

¨It is not an easy task my child, this little girl has already gone through a lot, too much pain, confusion and fear. Altering her environment and involving her in something else could result in a serious impact on her.¨

"I understand what you're saying, brother E-Sumi-Yan... If you allow me to say, I'm afraid that being in an environment where she feels alone will only make her feel much worse. I saw how she looked scared when I tried to approach her the first time, probably more than one person hurt her and it will be very difficult for her to relate to others if she is neglected too much. She must have someone to lean on, at least... Until she learns to walk on her own again.¨

E-Sumi-Yan remained silent and pondered his words for a moment. And then he turned to look at me and realized I was listening to their conversation.

"Tell me little one, would you feel comfortable if you stayed under Adrien's wing for a while?"

I looked between Brother E-Sumi-Yan and Adrien, and crushed the ball a little in my hands.

“Can I come back?” I asked.

¨Of course, you will always be welcome here my child.¨  Brother E-Sumi-Yan assured me.

Then my gaze focused on Adrien. "Can I still see Koro?"

Adrien smiled and his ears fluttered with joy. "Of course, I'm sure Koro will be more than happy to see you."

Then Adrien's ears stilled at the memory of something.

¨Oh it's true. Brother E-Sumi-Yan, can I make a suggestion?¨

E-Sumi-Yan tilted his head slightly, looking confused, and said, “Go ahead.¨

¨My older brother lives in Sharlayan, and I just had the idea that between my brother and I we can educate her while there. But I request your permission and that of the elementals to go of course.¨

"I don't see any problem, but before doing that, I suggest you send a letter to your brother about the news, remember that the consent of both of you is needed to care for a minor."

¨I don't think he will refuse, he always gives in when I ask him to. But I will take into account your advice brother E-Sumi-Yan ¨ Adrien showed a smile from ear to ear.

E-Sumi-Yan looked worried for a moment by Adrien's words, but still didn't say anything else about his attitude.

¨I will ask someone to send you the girl's information in a letter addressed to Sharlayan.¨

"I thank you very much, brother E-Sumi-Yan" Adrien bowed respectfully towards him.

[fanmoose12]

a sort of?? continuation to this thing!

"Another."

"I don't think it's wise."

"Another," Levi presses, throwing a sizzling glare to his opponent. Then, with his voice so much softer, he adds, "Eren, start another game, please."

Eren nods and with a few quick motions enters the main menu and presses play. And so the game begins, and Levi grabs the controller tightly as the players start assembling on the imaginary field.

It's his fifth match against Zeke's, Hange's ex from years ago and Jean's dad. Levi has lost all the previous games, but he's determined to win this one. He has to win, in order to impress Jean. And by impressing Jean, he might also impress Hange, and, well, that is his priority, sort of.

His another priority is humiliating that fucker Zeke, because he's arrogant and cocky and so irritating and also he's Hange's ex.

And if a stupid baseball game is how Levi can assert his dominance over the jackass, then so be it.

He will win this stupid game, and Hange will be impressed. Levi will earn her smile, her praise, perhaps, even a kiss, and Zeke will get nothing, because he is Hange's ex and was allowed to come here only because it's Jean's birthday party and, technically, the bearded arrogant asshole is still his father.

"I believe in you, dad," Eren whispers into his ear just as the game starts.

The tight, annoying knot that was making him grit his teeth and throw furious glances at Zeke, loosens at the earnest tone of his son's voice. Eren believes in him. Levi feels like this will be the match that brings him victory.

The game starts, and Levi easily scores a few balls. But suddenly the game shifts, and he starts to lose, lose, lose. He swings the stick to the right, he presses on controls just a little too hard, but it ultimately leads to nothing and so very soon Levi sees the words he despises so much.

Player Zeke wins

It takes all of his self-control not to hit the head of the cackling man with a controller.

"Man," the asshole actually wipes at his eyes, because apparently Levi's humiliation is hilarious enough to make him cry out of laughter. "Are you that desperate to get laid?"

Well, yes, he is that desperate. But only if he'll get laid with Hange.

Which is why he has to win that stupid game. So, ignoring Zeke's poisonous laughter, Levi pats Eren's soft locks.

"Get the game started for me again, alright?"

"Alright," Eren agrees readily, but before he plods to the console, he leans close to Levi's ear and whispers, "Hey, dad, remember that program we watched a week ago? About monkeys? Don't you think that Jean's dad looks a bit like a monkey they've showed in that program?"

Levi's eyes trail to Zeke, who is sitting on the other end of sofa, his point finger lightly scratching his ear.

Fuck, he does look like a monkey.

The realisation is enough to make Levi chuckle. He squeezes Eren's shoulder and says, "Good observation skills, buddy."

Eren beams at the praise and runs to start the game.

"Ready to lose again, Ackerman?" Zeke gives him a self-contained smirk. Levi balls his fists to stop himself from throttling the bastard. Gods, what an asshole. What did Hange find in him?

Just as another match is about to again, Hange in question saunters in the room, Jean trailing at her heels. The easy smile brightens the room for a moment, before slipping to show an annoyed, angry frown.

"Zeke?" with hands on her hips and pouting lips, she looms over her ex, glaring at him furiously enough to make Levi grin. "Are you seriously playing that stupid game again? I thought you came here to see Jean."

His eyes are a bit panicked, but his smile is effortlessly brilliant as Zeke turns to look at Hange. "Honey," he begins, lifting his arm towards her. Hange roughly slaps it away. Levi internally triumphs. "I'll quickly destroy your... new friend for the seventh time, and then Jean and I are going to play. Right, son?" Zeke asks, tilting his head towards Jean. Jean simply shrugs and plops down on a sofa.

"I hope you win," he murmurs to Levi quietly, careful not to let his dad hear. Levi discreetly bumps his shoulder against Jean's, barely resisting the urge to openly gloat at Zeke.

"Don't feel too bad about losing to him," leaning over the back of the coach, Hange whispers into his ear. "Zeke is obsessed with this game," then, raising her voice so Zeke is able to hear, she adds, "He used to pay more attention to it than to me."

"Not true!" Zeke claims from his end of the sofa.

"Very true," Hange argues, still glued to Levi's side. "If you win, you'll absolutely destroy him," Hange murmurs, and then, before Levi can process what's happening, she leans a little bit closer, shortens the little distance that was still between them, and presses a gentle kiss to his. "Good luck, Levi. I'm counting on you."

Apparently, that's all he really needed to absolutely annihilate Zeke and the remnants of his dignity.

When the triumphant music starts to play and the banner rolls out to show that Player Levi has won, Levi nearly punches the air in celebration.

Luckily, he doesn't have to embarrass himself like that. Instead Eren does it for him, the kid starts jumping up and down, chanting "My dad has won, my dad has won," over and over again.

Perhaps, even more pleasant is a slight pat Jean gives to his dad's knee, as he tells him, "Maybe, try better next time, dad."

And then, Hange rubs the final portion of salt in the deep wound of Zeke's pride. She leans close to Zeke, her lips at his ear and whispers, careful not to let kids hear, "If that's any consolation, Levi is also much better in bed than you ever were."

The pure mortification that reflects on Zeke's face gifts Levi with immense amount of satisfaction. That feeling is almost as good as the one he receives when Hange laughs at one of his jokes.

"Let's go, Jean," Zeke pulls the boy to his feet. "We'll play catch outside."

With the most innocent expression Levi has ever seen on the boy's face, Jean asks, "Can Eren and his dad play with us?"

Levi never thought that the expression for fuck's sake can be so clearly seen on the one's face without them saying it. But Zeke's face is screaming it.

To his credit, however, he manages a semi-polite smile and, ruffling Jean's hair, he agrees. He doesn't grit his teeth and doesn't even flip off Levi when the kids start running outside. Zeke's all kinds of dick and Levi has more than enough reasons to hate him, but... his composure is certainly admirable.

Although, the facade slips, when Hange comes to wrap her arms around from Levi. She turns his head slightly, so he can meet her lips in a sensuous kiss.

"Zeke, look after the kids, alright?" she asks, not looking away from Levi. "We'll join you in just a minute."

Levi is too focused on the feeling of Hange's lips on his to be sure if Zeke really did say, "Fuck you, Ackerman," but even Hange's proximity doesn't make him miss the sound of the front door closing shut with a loud bang, announcing Zeke's departure.

"I never saw him so angry," Hange confesses when they break apart. "I think you have a special effect on him."

"Well," Levi slips his hand to her waist, bringing Hange just a little closer. Already, Zeke is very far on the least of his priorities. "You have a special effect on me, four-eyes. How long do we have?"

"Mm," Hange bites her lip as she thinks. Levi tries and fails not to stare at her. "I think we can allow ourselves to arrive ten minutes later."

Ten minutes with Hange isn't nearly enough, but, even so, it's ten minutes, with Hange, and without kids around.

Besides, ten minutes is more than enough to make one bearded asshole very, very angry. And Levi thinks that it's certainly a neat, pleasant bonus.

[seelestia]

'ELLO MATE HOW ARE YOU I AM BACK-

they've disbanded me from the shadow realm!! thankfully it seems like they resolved the issue faster this time yayyyy

ohhh i see! i am biased to the jp version bc i am familiar with the va but i've been getting used to his en va too! i haven't listened to his korean va actually, maybe i should do that 👀

for zhongli... all of his va has their own charms i can't choose 😭 i love the en version va (but dear lord he grunts a lot like seriously grandpa you ok do you need to rest lol) but again, i am biased to his jp va bcs i am super familiar with maeno... i had a phase where i listened to jp drama cds in the past and he's one of my most favorite va hahah

itto was so good to me... i pulled for him with my brother in our parents' house and i screamed when i got him (cause i wasn't expecting him at all), and my brother yelled along with me, and my parents were like "WHAT HAPPENED" lmao it was chaos-

i borrowed my friends' luck and they did a total of 10 pulls for me on cyno banner.... good news: 1) i got candace, 2) i got a 5 star. bad news: it's qiqi lmao ah well at least i have guaranteed now!!

LOL it's ok i can always bow or stand on the lower ground so you can pat my head (cause i do like my headpats <3) hskdjsjdj i can only be savage in writing tho. i'm too timid to be savage when speaking ;x

all the headpats for lin~ i am excited for his voicelines too! i love that he'll help us spam ult hakdjs yes more meteors yessss *evil raccoon laughter*

RIN JIE, YOU'RE BACKKK — ahem, what i mean to say is that i've been faring quite well, as per usual! it pleases me greatly that you've returned, dearest cousin. i assume your journey has been rewarding? did it help in loosening the burden on your mind as you expected? i hope it was, lest the days i had spent missing your presence would all be for naught then.

finally, the results from our anxious wait bear its fruits. i was honestly getting concerned, especially after what happened previous times before. it serves me great joy to see you around again, truly. hm, i suppose saying "yay" would be a better way to express myself? hehe, yay!

breaking character for a sec to say that ayato's korean voice is luring me into a hole and i am absolutely and willingly following 🕳️🚶how ironic, i thought we've already established that he is, indeed, an elderly soul trapped in a young man's body? i'm starting to believe that his true age is manifesting itself through the cracking noises made by his bones. (/lh) i see, so you're similar to me; the familiarity just had that sense of preciousness that attaches itself to us~

that oni has always been clumsy and leaves trails of chaos wherever he goes... but who would've guessed he did an excellent job at coming home to you? ha, i can almost see him seething at me for saying that in the corner of my mind. i also assume your brother was mentally eating this snack called popcorn in his hands while everything went down? how amusing, hehe.

even with the power of borrowed luck, the child is still very fond of you. hm, i was looking forward to seeing a disheartened expression on your face but you seem to be looking at the bright side instead, what a letdown. aha, i was jesting, of course. i also happen to experience the same event as you did; i happened to meet a certain forest watcher from sumeru instead of the well-known general mahamatra, but i have no complaints. the both of us now have guaranteed luck for the next banner that comes around, wonderful! although for me, i don't have a specific character i'm keeping my eyes on since it seems like the yashiro commissioner's return seems very distant in the future. but perhaps, one will catch my eyes soon enough. nahida, perhaps? maybe, even that spirited fatui harbinger with the ginger hair.

i can see why you compare yourself to madam kujou sara... if i may be so bold, i'd say you're akin to a puddle of tender goo hidden inside a cold exterior? it's quite entertaining to see you let loose so easily around mr. zhongli. love is an interesting factor that stirs one's soul, indeed.

(and ty for the headpats, lin is very flustered by them <3 actually, speaking of voicelines, it reminds me of the in-game script/template for voicelines that you did! 👀 and yesss, ult spam is satisfying, especially in domains 🤌)

[twoidiotwriters1]

Copycat: The First Young Avenger —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

Words: 3,165

Warnings: Mentions of death.

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next chapter

ii: The First Mission

C.C. didn't even have to start asking about anything, cause Tony Stark would not shut up.

Rogers had decided they had to run over the plan once more, that way C.C. would know what they'd be doing. She memorized it on the first try, and once they got to their destination, Nat moved her away from the rest, Barton following close behind.

"Don't leave," She reminded her. "Don't touch anything, stay in your seat— and if you hear explosions getting closer—"

"Activate the quinjet's shield, I remember," C.C. sighed. "Can I at least get something to eat while I wait?"

"There are some chips behind the shelf on your left," Stark told her on his way out.

"Hey, that was my secret food stash!" Clint frowned.

"We're a team, Barton, don't be selfish."

"Alright, kid," Cap approach her, he was already wearing his helmet. "You'll be our extra set of eyes, if you see anything we don't, let us know..."

He handed her a small earpiece that would help her maintain communication with the group, she grabbed it and placed it inside her ear.

"Good luck out there," She smiled at him awkwardly. "I'll... er... I'll be good."

C.C. was seated in the middle of the floor, legs crossed and a bag of chips on her lap, she was projecting every camera against the quinjet's wall, and hadn't spoken in almost an hour.

Right now Stark was entering a secret hallway, Nat and Banner were having a moment, and Rogers was having a chat with Strucker.

"Where's Loki's scepter?"

"Don't worry, I know when I'm beat... you'll mention how I cooperated, I hope."

"I'll put it right under 'illegal human experimentation," Cap replied, C.C.'s chest stung knowingly. "How many are there?"

As soon as he asked, movement caught his attention and he turned slightly to his right, C.C. caught a glimpse of long hair, she bolted forward, but Steve had fallen down the stairs and now the unknown figure was gone.

"We have a second enhanced female do not engage," She heard the Captain say, then he knocked Strucker down."C.C. you there?" He asked her.

She pressed the small earpiece and spoke. "Yes, Captain."

"You saw Strucker?"

"Yeah," She muttered. "Not my guy— I didn't recognize the other person either."

"It's okay, kid."

C.C. shifted her attention to Stark, watching as he entered a big room, packed with technology.

"Guys, I got Strucker," Cap announced to the group.

"Yeah, I got something bigger," Stark replied,

"Ohhh, that's a Chitauri ship!" C.C. gasped, she'd always looked at objects and images of that battle with an air of admiration, after all, it was thanks to it that she'd managed to escape when she was younger.

The doors of the quinjet opened and Thor entered with Barton in his arms, C.C. got out of the way.

"Hawkeye does it again," She said casually. "What happened, you fell and couldn't get up?"

"Haha," Barton grunted. "Shut up and bring the first aid kit."

"Thor, I got eyes on the prize," Stark spoke.

C.C. turned away from the screens and went for the kit, she started to help Barton clean his wounds.

"Got it, let's go."

Thor turned off the screens and walked up to her.

"Is he okay?"

"I think so," C.C. shrugged. "He's not bleeding out, so that's something..."

"Bring one of those bags," Barton pointed to the transparent pouches hanging behind her.

"We're back," Nat and Banner entered, the latter wearing pants only. "How was it, kid?"

"Not cool at all," She answered honestly.

"Really?" It was Cap's turn to show up. "Not even a little impressed?"

"Well, I really liked it when Thor chucked lightning at the bad guys."

The God smiled proudly, grabbing her abandoned bag of chips and eating a handful.

As soon as they landed, C.C. ran out with a satisfied smile. Hill was there to receive her.

"I behaved," She reported.

"Good to know," Hill smiled briefly before looking up. "Lab's all set up, boss."

"Oh, actually, he's the boss," Stark pointed at Cap. "I just pay for everything and design everything, and make everyone look cooler."

"You didn't pay for my stuff," C.C. retorted.

"Yeah, and do you look cool?" Stark questioned.

C.C. looked down at her S.H.I.E.L.D suit and scrunched up her nose.

"I look like a security guard."

"Go do your job, then," He patted her shoulder.

"What's the word on Strucker?" Cap asked. "The two enhanced?"

"Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. Twins."

Steve looked over his shoulder and signaled C.C. to get closer, she went quickly and stared at the file Hill was showing them.

"Orphaned at ten, when a shell collapsed their apartment building. Sokovia's had a rough story, it's nowhere special but it's on the way to everywhere special."

"Their abilities?"

"He's got increased metabolism and improved thermal homeostasis. Her thing is neuroelectric interfacing, telekinesis, mental manipulation."

Steve and C.C. shared a look and then stared blankly at Hill, she sighed.

"He's fast and she's weird."

Steve hummed, handing the screen to C.C.

"Well, they're gonna show up again."

C.C. clicked on their pictures and stared at them hungrily. She was looking at two older teenagers, probably around sixteen or seventeen, both with dark red hair. Her heart throbbed with excitement, finally, after years of solitude, they'd found kids like her!

They were on the wrong side, though, and that wasn't good. Besides, Hill was telling them that they'd both volunteered to be experimented on, they weren't exactly like her.

"They chose to become mutants?" She asked in shock.

"It's nuts," Hill replied in agreement.

"Right," Steve moved forward and entered the elevator, leaving C.C. with Hill. "What kind of monster would let a German scientist experiment on them to protect their country?"

C.C. let out a short laugh, Hill raised a brow.

"We're not at war, Captain."

"They are."

When the doors closed, C.C. looked back at Hill with a bit of excitement.

"I heard Stark say they're planning a party."

"Tony's always planning a party."

"He said it was to celebrate the end of Hydra," She insisted. "Can I go?"

Hill watched her carefully. "You're really trying to be good, aren't you?"

"You said I could move to the next phase if I came back from the mission in one piece," She retorted. "Well, I did what I was asked to do, I sat and listened. Can't I stay for the fun part too?"

"Mission wasn't what you expected?" The woman asked knowingly.

"It was... tedious," She sighed. "Thought it'd have more action."

"Trust me, the longer you stay here, the more you'll love it when a mission is bland."

"Can I please go?"

"Let's take your stuff back to your room," The woman answered. "Then you get to watch the avengers finish the work, and we'll see about the party."

"I have strict orders not to let you and C.C. alone."

"Oh c'mon, what do you think I'll do? Get her drunk and send her down to my car collection? Give me a break— Jarvis!"

"Sir?"

"Keep an eye on C.C. and I, alright? Keep Hill informed about our whereabouts at all times."

"Very well."

"That enough for you?" He asked, a little exasperated.

Hill gave him a tired look before walking away, C.C. stood there, waiting for Tony to speak.

"You have a nice room," He gestured around vaguely. "So... I heard Cap asking you about Strucker— an old friend of yours?"

"No, but they thought he could be," She answered, sitting down at the edge of her bed.

"I read your file."

"Hill said you would do that— Fury used to say you can never mind your own business."

"Insulting, but also right," Stark agreed. "As I was saying, I read it. It's fake."

"I know that," She smiled. "He doesn't want my data out there, my real file consists of one physical copy that's been hidden away."

"Can I know why's everyone so secretive about you?"

"They don't want the world knowing that people like me exist."

"Right, cause people like you are..."

"If they don't want you to know, I can't tell you."

"Please kid, I'm dying," Stark frowned. "I wanna know. Like when you get to the end of the season, and they just throw the meanest cliffhanger— right now your whole story is my favorite cliffhanger of the season."

C.C. stared at him blankly. "Am I supposed to understand that?"

Stark looked at her in astonishment. "You are fascinating."

"If you really wanna know," The girl continued. "I guess I can tell you the basics. Perhaps you'll stop being so curious once you've heard the main part."

"I'm all ears, kid."

She gazed out the huge window that covered the entirety of the wall at the back of the room.

"Light," She walked up to it and placing one hand against the glass. "I didn't have much of that in the old facility— nor before that, really. I was born and raised in labs, I escaped when I was about ten..."

"Hill told me you're not a fan of the dark," Stark told her. "Even during the night, the light from the street keeps it bright enough for you to see."

C.C. turned to him with a sweet smile. "Thank you. I like it."

Stark nodded, feeling a bit awkward about her gratitude.

"Talking about that— we should head back to my lab, that's where the fun stuff happens. Leave your bags there, you'll have time to put them away later. Meanwhile, you can finish your lovely ghost story."

"...And so they thought maybe I'd be able to recognize Strucker as one of my creators, but he's not. I don't remember anything, but I'm sure I could recognize my doctor's face on the spot. The people that were with me in the facility as well— the other experiments, I mean."

"Sorry he wasn't the guy you were looking for," Stark told her. "Bet it would've felt good to see your bully behind bars."

"It's alright," She replied. "This means he did die when I left. It's better like that, I feel safer."

"Cool," He said, after a few seconds, he added, "so what is your thing, then?"

Banner walked up to them before she could open her mouth.

"How's he doing?" He asked, obviously talking about Barton.

"Unfortunately, he's still Barton," Stark retorted.

"That's terrible," Banner muttered, looking over his shoulder at Nat to make sure she couldn't hear him.

C.C. snorted, hiding her grin as she walked past the men.

"He's fine, he's thirsty— hey, kid! Don't go anywhere near those stuff without adult supervision!"

"Alright then, should we wait for an adult to show up?" She teased.

"Very funny, witty—  a bit ungrateful, though, considering I gave you the best room in the tower."

"That's a lie."

"Of course it is, my room is the best one here and I'm not gonna tell you where is it, cause then you'll murder me in my sleep."

"Judging by the dark circles in your eyes I could go in any time of the day and you wouldn't be there— how much caffeine do you consume on a daily basis?"

"Mind your business— Fury wouldn't want you to snoop around like me," He retorted, then he raised his voice and clapped once. "Alright, look alive, Jarvis, it's playtime! We've only got a couple of days with this joystick, and very few chances to impress this teenager, so let's make the most of it."

"Good luck, I've seen too many things in my short, sad life."

He gave her an annoyed, playful glare before turning his full attention to the table in front of him.

"Update me on the structural and compositional analysis."

"The scepter is alien. There are elements I can't quantify."

C.C. looked around again. "Can I go see Barton?"

"You worry about the old man?" Banner asked.

"I heard the Doctor that's curing him has a brand new kind of tech," She explained. "I wanna see how it works."

"Just don't touch anything."

"Everyone keeps telling me that, one would think I'm an octopus," She huffed, standing up from the chair and following Banner to the room.

He knocked on the crystal door gently, Nat smiled at them and opened the door.

"Coming to check on your partner?" She asked her.

"I wanna see the new tech," The girl explained. "He's not dying, why would I worry?"

Barton grunted from his place on the table.

"Are you sure he's gonna be okay?" Nat tilted her head, watching the machine do its work.

"Clint, are you dying?" C.C. asked, sitting next to him.

He gave her an aggravated look. "Hope not— I don't wish to have you as the last person I ever talked to."

C.C. frowned. "I should've let you bleed to death inside the quinjet."

"Pretending to need this guy really brings the team together," Nat gave the doctors an amused look.

Dr. Cho chuckled. "There's no possibility of deterioration. The nanomolecular functionality is instantaneous. His cells don't know they're bonding with simulacra."

"She's creating tissue," Banner told Nat and C.C. in awe.

"I can do that sometimes," C.C. stated. "If I focus hard enough."

Before Banner could even process what she'd said, Dr. Cho continued.

"If you brought him to my lab, the regeneration cradle could do this in twenty minutes."

"Oh, he's flat-lining. Call it— time?" Stark entered with several cups of what seemed to be a smoothie.

"No no no, I'm gonna live forever," Clint laughed. "I'm gonna be made of plastic."

"That wouldn't be functional, plastic melts too easily," C.C. replied bluntly. "But you could ask Stark to make you a suit. He could turn your brain into an A.I."

Something about her tone made it clear to the group that she wasn't joking. They decided to not comment on it.

"No need for any of that," Dr. Cho replied politely. "You'll be made of your own you, Mr. Barton, your own girlfriend won't be able to tell the difference."

"I don't have a girlfriend," Barton mumbled.

"That I can't fix," The woman replied, moving away from the table. "This is the next thing, Tony. Your clunky metal suits are gonna be left in the dust."

"That is exactly the plan," He replied cheerily, "and Helen, I expect to see you at the party on Saturday."

"Unlike you, I don't have a lot of time for parties... will Thor be there?"

"Hill said I could go to the party," C.C. stood up, grabbing a smoothie without asking. "She said I could because I behaved."

"Dunno, kid, you were mean to me a few minutes ago— and I'm the host of said party."

"If you let me go, I promise I'll show you my abilities."

"It's a deal," Stark clapped.

C.C. spent the next three days watching Tony and Bruce work on the scepter, they'd made her promise she would not say a thing to Hill and Nat, and Rogers would only get the 'they're teaching me about the world' story if he were to ask when coming to check on her every morning.

They had bribed her with food and the promise of a brand new suit that fitted her needs better than the one she had. For this, Tony requested a full display of C.C.'s abilities in order to get it right.

"Just a reminder, you're not allowed to record any of this," C.C. said, taking off her shoes. "If you do, I'm allowed to kill you."

"Glad to know we're on a friendly basis," Stark replied. "Okay, turning my cameras off right now... The stage is yours, kid."

C.C. smiled, she reached out and presented her hand to him.

"What?"

"Shake it."

"What?"

"Or hold it for a moment— whatever, I just need you to touch it."

"Why?" He asked reluctantly.

"You wanted to see her tricks, Tony, just do what she asks," Banner said, a knowing glint in his gaze.

"Alright, but you so you know, if I die you'll get zero percent of my fortune."

"Like I need money," She rolled her eyes.

Tony reached for her hand and shook it briefly, her smile widened.

"Say hi to the new and improved..." She turned on her heels quickly, by the time she was facing him again, they were looking eye to eye. "You."

"Shit!" Stark jumped back, crashing against his desk.

"Hmm, interesting," She spoke in his voice. "I kinda was expecting my head to be heavier."

"How— are you— is this an illusion?"

"No, I'm you," She smiled, letting Banner take a blood sample. "All the way down to my DNA. We're basically the same person right now."

"Amazing," Stark walked around her. "How can you do that?"

"I was genetically modified in the womb," She explained. "Or at least, that's what we think happened. Cause I wasn't born as a human, according to my file I'm half alien since birth."

"Half alien?" Tony blinked. "Are you saying the Chitauri did this?"

"They're a different kind— I'm part Skrull. They're known for their ability to shapeshift in every aspect a body can do so. If I went and touched Banner right now, I'd be able to turn green and lift a car over my head. C.C. stands for Copycat," She sighed. "That's how Fury named my case, and since I have no real name... they call me C.C. for short."

"Those kids in the Hydra lab— are they like you?"

"Kinda. But they got their powers very recently— they were fully human for most of their lives, so I expect them to be a bit more unstable than me, more reckless as well."

"You kid, are my new favorite superhuman," He said, eyes bright with excitement. "Now go back to your original form, it creeps me out the way you're making my face move."

"I'm not supposed to shapeshift around you," She told him. "So please, don't ask me to do it again."

"Really unfortunate that you're so keen on following the rules."

"Don't listen to him, C.C., he's a child in a man's body."

"Yeah, I felt that while I was him," She grinned, pushing her shoes aside, not even pretending she was going to put them back on.

"Any other abilities I should take into account?" Stark asked while quickly writing stuff down on his pad. "You fly? Enhanced hearing? I know you can't see in the dark, so we can—"

"Oh, I can see in the dark," She retorted. "I just don't like dark and secluded places."

"Wonderful," Stark replied sarcastically. "The kid can see in the dark..."

"I also have claws."

"What?"

She stretched out her fingers: Long, sharp and thick claws resembling a feline's sprouted out from where her human nails were a moment prior, Stark moved further away.

"Okay, go it," He rapidly scribbled notes down. "What a piece of work, Kitkat, a perfect project for the weekend."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@ieatpanicattacksforlunch​ @jesuswasnotawhiteman​ @23victoria​@siriuslysirius1107​ @greengarsstuff​

[bnhaficsforthesoul]

BNHA characters and their genshin experiences

I've been way into genshin for the past couple months, if anyone wants to play with me message me (I'm lvl 45 rn) but be warned I have shitty internet and am a partial razor main

but this is mainly characters I can see actually putting time into genshin

Bakugou

Mains: Yanfei

his main has probably been most every pyro character at some point

he wants diluc so bad, whenever someone else complains that diluc ruined their pity he wants to ruin their existence

before yanfei his main was probably hu Tao

hed definitely play klee if he had her lmao but he doesnt and is patiently waiting for her rerun

he has a lot of 5 star characters and is f2p, he can always get banner characters within at least the first pity, but for standard 5 stars hes gotten keqing and qiqi way too many times and hes livid

especially as a previous hu tao main, he was begging for Jean, still has yet to come home

hes probably a very high level, not fully maxed out considering he hasnt been playing all that long, he was probably forced to start when the rest of the bakusquad started playing it and he just took off

has really shitty artifact luck though, like his characters arent bad or anything but they could be so, so much better

and ugh hes livid

explores everything, has 100% exploration everywhere, but hes not bored hes still got artifact farming to do and he enjoys terrorizing enemies

in co op he will set you and everything around you on fire. cope.

Todoroki

Mains: Xiao or Ganyu

probably only started playing because Izuku asked him to

kaeya has also been on his team since day 1 and he is never leaving doesnt matter his friendship has been level 10 for weeks now who cares

was f2p until xiao, who didnt want to come home at all, and he finally got him on his 180th pull

now he doesnt care and will buy primogems whenever hes bored

he has a lot of constellations on kaeya and hes so proud of that, probably c4, is considering buying way too many primogems just so that he can hopefully get his c6

now his artifact luck is godly, you'll go into a domain with him and be like ugh I got nothing and hes like I got a 4 piece set with all attack or crit rate/damage main stats like haha I hate you

but yeah his characters are very strong cause of this, but he doesnt put effort into building a lot of them, he only levels up and gives good artifacts to his team and a couple other characters he likes but everyone else just sits there for a while

hes not super obsessed with the game, but he does think its funny seeing bakugou get so upset whenever they do domains together

doesnt even bother doing daily tasks really unless hes trying to save primogems

Midoriya

Mains: Venti

hes so good at building characters, like he looks up builds online and watches those "do INSANE damage with these tips" videos - and he sets out to get them done and he does

bakugou is once again livid whenever they play together, because Izuku barely has to try and can do so much more damage than him

he does have to put in a lot of work for his artifacts though because he doesnt settle for the okay ones he needs the absolute best

he builds his favorite characters the most ofc, but he evenly distributes things to other characters he knows can be useful- those characters might not have insane stats but they're still good

will not kill timmies pigeons, hell hunt birds in the wild for fun though

definitely a food hoarder

also does a lot of exploring and probably has at least 90% for each area

Kaminari

Mains: Lisa

he is 1000% in love with Lisa, he took her quest very seriously

and so many people say shes horrible, he hates it, hes made her crazy strong out of spite

his team consists of only his wifus- meaning lisa, beidou, rosaria, and mona

for a long time beidou was his second but then rosaria came along and hes like ugh big tiddy goth gf, but lisa still remains queen

these are the only characters hes built though, save for a couple like probably razor and xiangling that he used before he fully got this team

is an ayaka saver

he doesnt care too much about most 5 stars but will sometimes get them just to say he has them, but they end up just sitting there rotting away because he never puts work into them

he does have hu tao though and would get ganyu if she ever had a rerun

Kirishima

Mains: Diluc Razor or Beidou

they're all on his team, the last person switches out but it's most likely zhongli or childe

hes all about dps, support who, he just wants to hit hard and do insane damage , so yes he made dps zhongli

except his builds arent that great, with some help his builds are decent, but on his own hell be like ugh that's some sexy 300 damage

probably didnt know what 90% of the stats even meant and just put random attack ones on people and went yeah that looks good

doesnt really care though and is just having fun so hell play how he wants (as he should) but he does have to ask for help when farming bosses

loves exploring but misses so much, hell get distracted easily and end up just messing around

honestly probably hasnt bothered to ascend his world since he got to level 35, if he did the quest hed probably go straight to 45 and even then hed still have extra exp because hes been there for so long oml

but eventually he would have to and hed be trying to do it like :,) this is fine and it takes him a lot of tries but he gets there eventually,,, only to immediately have another one waiting for him poor baby

Mina

Mains: Klee or Xiangling

thinks baizhu is hot (and is correct) so shes desperately waiting for him

was a I must play 24/7 player until after the last story quest, then she got kinda bored but still plays frequently so she can save primogems and likes playing co op

goes into random peoples worlds a lot

shes got some pretty strong characters and is proud of her account

definitely makes tiktoks of her playing with the bakusquad cause it's always v chaotic (it's probably only denki and kirishima most of the time, but sometimes either bakugou or sero will join in)

does all the genshin tiktok trends

shes a pretty high level since shes probably been playing for a while and has most everything done

she loves helping lower level people though she thinks it's so cute and loves the power she feels when she one shots things

Sero

Mains: Xingqui

hes a pretty casual player, kinda only plays when hes bored or the others make him play with them

but his stats arent too bad, they're fairly average but he gets by

has so many primogems because he doesnt bother to wish on anyone, probably wants kazuha though

he does get super invested into the story though, hes so curious about the world and where the story is gonna lead

probably watches a lot of genshin theory videos and now he over thinks everything in the game

he explores a lot, not so much to find every single thing but more so just because he likes looking at everything, hes very excited for all the new places

Shinsou

Mains: Childe

hes a very thorough player, he explores a lot and puts a lot of work into building his characters

most of them arent all that great but he has plans to fix them

his main team is very well built, not the best, but still good

he struggles when he has to switch someone out for a domain or something because his other characters are so painfully mediocre right now and he feels so bad

shinsou, playing a character that can do like max 200 physical damage and biggest damage is like 2 thousand, repeatedly saying I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you deserve so much better, I'm so sorry

even if it's not the worst damage by far, he feels bad about anything under his main team's stats because they're just so much higher

broke. has no primogems. spent them all on childe and his constellations. does he regret it? well he sure does appreciate his c6 so- hell manage

yes he spent real money on his stupid mass murderer who he loves very much

fights childe every day even though he already collected the treasure, he is but a humble simp

probably decently lucky with wishing like he can beat the 50/50 almost every time

Tamaki

Mains: Chongyun and Sucrose

he only started playing recently, probably kirishima got him into it, but he immediately fell in love

kirishima was like tell me when you're level 16 so we can play together !!! and 2 days later tamaki was level 16 and kiri was shook because how the hell did he do it so fast

hates domains, the dread he feels when he realizes the lower level isnt going to give him anything anymore, and he has to move up to the next, and the next,,

asks kirishima to help him only to realize he isnt much help, is too nice to say that so he let's kiri keep trying- one day kiri gets deku to play with the two of them and tamaki almost cries because finally he can get through the level 90 domain and actually get things ugh

cannot get xingqui to save his life he refuses to come home and poor tamaki is so sad he wants him a lot hes even got all his materials saved up

Monoma

Mains: Ningguang

honestly doesnt play all that much but takes pride in making his account seem v good, is a whale

but hes very good at the game, didnt know what the artifacts were for at first and gave people ones based on how they looked but once he figured it out hes fixed them

is a very standard player, logs in every day to do his commissions and use his resin then logs out, he doesnt put too much time into the game and doesnt worry if he misses a day or two

worships ningguang, also really likes xinyan, his other team members are probably venti and albedo

has every single banner 5 star that has come out since he started playing, probably doesnt have klee though and is v upset about it, and is thanking the heavens for all the reruns lately

also doesnt have keqing and wants her a lot cause he likes her

accepts every single co op request he gets, and despite what a lot may think hes actually a very nice person to play with, not toxic at all - unless you're someone he knows then he might be mean to you shshshsh

Shigaraki

Mains: Razor

haha isnt it so odd that they sound so similar haha (if you dont know they have the same japanese va and I'm guessing hed play it in Japanese)

obviously he can be kinda busy ya know being a criminal and all that but when hes not he puts a lot of time into genshin

sadly doesnt have very good luck when it comes to characters or artifacts, but hes doing his best even with 0 primogems and his 50% crit rate

doesnt explore all that much, most of the exploring hes done came from him trying to get all the oculus

his razor is so good though, except that's the only character hes put tons of effort into

except for now zhongli, hes not replacing razor but ugh does he love zhongli

but his other characters are pretty mediocre at best, he could build them if he wanted to, hes good enough at gaming to figure it out, he just doesnt have the time to spend to do it so he focuses on his main team

also (spoiler alert kinda) when we had to go to the wolf spirit to fight the abyss herald and razor was there, afterwards how razor was saying how he was too weak and stuff and was super sad, at that very moment shiggy decided the entire abyss order had to be destroyed - sorry aether (he chose lumine) but razor is more important than you

[rosaliepostsstuff]

Little steps (George Weasley x reader) | pt 2 - Interest

Pairing: George Weasley x reader, (hinted) OC x reader

Part 1

Word count: 3059

Summary: When the term starts Y/N tries to enjoy everyday life at Hogwarts, finds herself treated by the twins no more as just their brother’s friend or the popular girl and is excited for the Triwizard tournament to come. The announcement of the Yule Ball leaves her with many propositions, when she already thought she had a date set

Warnings: just a few swears

A/N: Strap back folks, cause I let loose. Didn’t want to rush things and was worried about the pacing of the plot. Excited for the next part cause we’re getting there...

September, 1994

This year was going to be a good one. All three of your previous years at Hogwarts, you and your friends never got to enjoy the ordinary. Each and every time, something was brewing, only to blow up right before the school year ended. Evenings spent on studying and essays were followed by trying to save the world. Or Hogwarts, at the very least. But not this time. You were trying to push back the memories of what happened after the Quidditch World Cup final and just be a teenager.

You sat between Hermione and Harry at the welcoming feast. The sorting hat had sang its song, and you curiously watched the sorting ceremony, wondering who’d join your house this year. But the most exciting thing that happened was, without a doubt, the announcement of the Triwizard Tournament. Even if it meant cancelling the Quidditch Cup that year, you hoped it would prove entertaining enough. You were also looking forward to what having students from two foreign wizarding schools would change in Hogwarts’ life. Only you’d have to wait two months to find out.

The next day was your first day of class, when everyone was starting to get back to their Hogwarts routine after weeks of vacation. The table was busy, some were discussing magical ways of making oneself older a few seats further, some were discussing their new timetables. You studied yours, chewing your toast and listening to what your friends had to say about it. -Today’s not bad… outside all morning, - said Ron, running his finger along Monday’s column -Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures… damn it, we’re still with the Slytherins… Herbology with Hufflepuffs, huh. You smiled a little to yourself. You had some friends in that house, two of them – Matthew and Eric – you’ve known since childhood. You even went to muggle elementary school together, before your adventure at Hogwarts began – your parents, even though pure-blood and rather wealthy, were progressive. Eric was a year above you, but Matt was your age, so you’d partner up in herbology. This year it would be slightly different, as over the summer things between the two of you changed a bit.

In the first weeks of the term, things had slowly but surely settled down. You had a new, as usual, questionable DADA teacher. Hermione decided to found S.P.E.W., trying to fight for house-elves’ rights. Although slightly unsure of her methods, you couldn’t help but agree with her message. In your world, it seemed normal, in the mansion owned by your dad’s ancestors it was normal, you never questioned it. But in your parents’ household there never was one, and you were just fine.

 The day was nice, mid-September air still quite warm as you were making your way through the open corridors near Transfiguration. Your thoughts were shifting between schoolwork and leisure. As you were approaching an intersection, you heard quick, heavy steps. Most people were already in the great hall, as lunchtime started not long before.

Fred and George ran out of one of the corridors, ran past you sparing a glance in your direction as you watched with interest, and then they hopped a half wall to hide behind it. What was it this time? After them, emerged Filch, panting heavily.

For half a second you panicked. Would he blame you for whatever they did? Take you for an accomplice?

It wasn’t logical, you were just casually strolling, but you wouldn’t put anything past the old maniac. You tried to keep yourself together when he looked at you expectantly. Quickly, you pointed into one of the corridors. Your chances were 50/50, he could believe you and let himself be fooled, or see right through you, finding it suspicious, that you tried to help him and try to convince the Headmaster to allow him to tie you in his beloved shackles that were always ready in his office.

He ran. You slowly pretended to continue your way, until he was gone, when you approached the wall the twins were hiding behind. -Bli-meey, he definitely added something special to his oatmeal this morning, he never lasts this long -said George to his brother -I expected him to snuff out halfway through! -added Fred -You lads owe me one. – you said smugly, crossing your arms over your chest -That we do, flower. – George said, smiling at you, showing off his dimples -Just say a word when you wanna break some rules – Fred winked at you, then grinned at his twin and the two walked away, as you forgot where you were going before that encounter.

 October, 1994

October was passing quickly in huge amounts of work, as if all the teachers made some kind of pact to rob you of free time. George and Fred seemed more confident in their bantering with you, though.

Before you knew it, there was just a week left until Halloween. You were now in the entrance hall, in front of a sign Ron was reading out loud:

TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at 6 o’clock on Friday the 30th of October. Lessons will end half an hour early —

-Brilliant! - said Harry. -It’s Potions last thing on Friday! Snape won’t have time to poison us all!

Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast.

The following week, the faculty was getting more and more nervous. The castle was being thoroughly cleaned and everything was supposed to be perfect for the visit. When the time for the feast came, you and your friends arrived in the great hall, which was decorated beautifully overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers’ table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.

Before dinner, everyone headed to the Entrance Courtyard to greet the guests. Examining all the young witches and wizards from both schools you couldn’t help but feel slightly intimidated. But nonetheless, you were looking forward to the following months, when the events of the tournament were explained to you scrupulously.

The next day was Saturday, which would usually mean late breakfast for most, but not today. Students were huddled around the Goblet of Fire, placed in the centre of the entrance hall. You watched curiously to see who could become the Hogwarts champion.

George, Fred and Lee decided to try their luck with aging potion, all three taking a drop of it and clearly confident in their ability to survive win the tournament and split the prize.

When you saw George follow Fred and step over the age line to place his name in the goblet, your eyes narrowed down a bit. You were just about to contemplate, what if, when- Loud sizzling noise and the twins were thrown back, rocking long, white beards. You laughed at the sight, just as everyone else. But you also felt something else deep down, which you didn’t give a thought – relief.

 November, 1994

November was weird for you. Harry was chosen to be Hogwarts’ champion along with Cedric Diggory, but Ron wouldn’t believe he hadn’t thrown his name in, so now your group of friends was split. You thought the whole conflict to be a tad ridiculous, but you found yourself alone with Harry more, who most of the school seemed to hate now.

You and Hermione helped him prepare for the first task of the tournament, once you learned what it would be. Thanks to Moody’s tip, you spent hours practicing the summoning charm. You grasped it faster than Harry, and you tried not to show that it worried you a bit.

The 24th finally arrived. You found a place for yourself in the wooden stands, fellow Gryffindors around you. George and Fred were doing rounds, taking bets. After it seemed they were finished, as the first contestant was about to walk out, they took an empty spot next to you. -Care to make a bet, young lady? – said Fred, leaning down a bit and wiggling his eyebrows at you. -Gambling, huh? – you said, smirking and looking between the boys -Sign me up. -Atta girl. -George said and opened their suitcase once again. You were thankful your cheeks had already been a bit pink from the November chill as you were taking out the money. -3 galleons for Ced, 2 for Harry. – you handed them the coins -just don’t tell him -You pretended to whisper but just loud enough that they could still hear you over the crowd.

At some point after the task had started you got a bit cold and decided to put on the warm scarf you packed in your bag just in case. In the tight crowd, you clumsily fumbled with the bag and the jacket, trying to wrap yourself up. You were about to attempt to hold the bag between your knees to avoid placing it on the floor, when a big hand reached out to you from your right. You looked up to see George silently offering his help. You smiled and said ‘thanks’ just above a whisper. Handing him the bag, his warm hand brushed your cold one for just a moment. You put the scarf on, took your bag back and resumed your spectating position, this time, just a bit more to the right.

December, 1994

At the beginning of the month, the Yule Ball was announced. For you, it meant hordes of boys asking you to be their date. Even ones you haven’t exchanged a word with before. Some of them you politely declined, some of them just got a short ‘no.’

Professor McGonagall took it upon herself to make sure students from the house of Godric Gryffindor knew what they were doing on the dance floor, and not behave like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons.

And so, you were all gathered in her classroom, cleared of all desks, boys on one side of the room and girls on the other. When she called Ron over to demonstrate, you couldn’t help but stifle your laughter at your friends awkwardness, when he was asked to grab her waist. Soon, she directed everyone to pair up and practice.

Just like always in these situations, you kind of stepped forward, trying not to be awkward and hide, but at the same time looked around the room a bit nervously – wondering who’d ask you, if you could afford to pick and choose or if anyone would come up to you at all.

Your eyes involuntarily found George Weasley across the room. But you didn’t expect him to also look in your direction. Neither did he, but he tried not to let it show. You weren’t able to predict, what he’d do next. You didn’t know what you wanted in that moment, either, as your thoughts seemed clouded. Whether it was for him to run over to you and sweep you off your feet or just leave you, in your nervous state, so he didn’t have to witness you like that. After all, it was unlike you. Y/N Y/L/N, the talk of the school.

You’d rather not think about what your facial expression looked like, when you saw his eyes on you, his lips slowly curling into a small, shy smile.

You were brought to the world of living by Dean Thomas who walked up with a kind smile, holding out his hand for you and asked you to dance. You liked Dean. He was nice, smart, tall and cute. You said yes and smiled charmingly. When you glanced at the spot where George stood previously, for just half a second, he wasn’t there anymore. You weren’t sure what you expected. Why would he? Besides, it was just George after all, right?

Dancing with Dean, there was some small talk about classes, a few jokes about poor dance skills, and before you knew it, Professor McGonagall thanked you all for your time and you were dismissed.

The group headed to the wide, wooden doors at the back. Dean still beside you, the two of you also making your way out. -You know who you’re going with, then? – he asked you. -To the ball, I mean. -  You didn’t, to be fair. You assumed you’d be going with Matt. -No, not really – you replied, skipping the details. -So.. any chance you’d like to go with me?.. – asked Dean, smiling shyly and looking down at your face, bringing his hand to the back of his neck. You felt someone’s eyes on your back, or maybe you just imagined it. Shit. You didn’t expect that. You looked at the tall boy beside you, trying to hide your shock. In the corner of your eye, you see two tall gingers pass you by in the corridor. You liked Dean, you thought again. He was cute. -No.. sorry, mate… - you muttered, truly apologetic -Hope you find somebody nice, though – you offered him a wide, hopeful smile. -That’s alright. Had to try my luck, though – he said, nodding and grinning to you. He truly seemed to take it well. –See you around – he gave you a little wave, which you returned, and picked up his pace, losing you in the crowd. So you walked the rest of the way to your common room, in the black-and-red sea, making a little mental plan of the homework you were to do for the rest of the day.

A week later, you made your way to the library in the afternoon. You seized the moment when you were in a relatively good mood and decided it’s a good opportunity to work on some assignments, to maybe wrap them up before the Christmas break.

Walking through the library you were trying to find an optimal spot for your little session. When you picked one, you walked into the aisle and were about to sit down when you spotted George sitting in the opposite row, facing the bookcase, away from you.

He didn’t see you, as he was bent over a book, his hand supporting his head and holding hair out of his face, elbow propped on the desk. He held a quill in his other hand and seemed – focused? Maybe just a little distressed. You caught yourself staring but you couldn’t blame yourself – you don’t see a Weasley twin working in the library often. In fact, you rarely see them separately.

You looked around, stepped back and forth awkwardly for a bit, unsure what to do. You heard him mutter a few curse words to himself and have to hold back a chuckle. You debated just sitting down and just getting to your work, but you take a few careful steps to try and look through his shoulder aand-

Defence Against the Dark Arts. What sometimes seemed to be the only thing you were good at – Merlin had your back. You decided to take your chance, your own schoolwork be damned. You walk up, lean on the desk next to him- -You come here often? – was not what was supposed to come out of your mouth, but it did, before you could think it through. Merlin would surely be proud of the bunch of curses you directed at yourself in your thoughts. What was wrong with you?!

George was looking up at you with wide eyes but amused smile.

-Eh, erm.. you need any help with that? – you tried to save yourself, gesturing at his parchment -I’m pretty good at DADA, ahead of my year, actually… - you continued, looking down, because if you kept looking into those warm, brown eyes, you’d surely be finished. -Uh, yeah, sure – he answered, chuckling slightly -I mean, I could use the help -He straightened up and shifted slightly as you grabbed the back of the chair next to him. -I don’t come here often… -he said under his breath with a cheeky smile.

After you settled into the seat next to him, surprisingly, the both of you relaxed pretty quickly. Even if you suspected it had been the first time the two of you properly talked alone. It was nice, your banter was natural and you actually managed to help him with the assignment, your own ones long forgotten.

-Thanks, Y/N, I really appreciate it. I’d probably rot in here, trying to do it myself, or just give up – he said and rolled his eyes, packing up his things and you were getting up. -No problem, really. I know how often you just need someone to put it in different words and everything starts to click. – you paused for a moment -I’ll see you around, George. – you started to slowly to walk away -Yeah, see you.. -he had packed his things already, and was looking at your back, retreating- -Hey, Y/N? – you stopped and turned back, looking at him curiously, your eyes telling him you were listening. -D’you have a date to the ball? – he asked, not believing his own words. Matt still hasn’t asked you. You suspected why, after you and Eric went a little far with your teasing when you hung out the other day, he got a little salty. But you knew he’d get over it, it wasn’t really serious, and there was still almost two weeks to the ball. -Noo.. -your tone almost saying ‘go on’. -Fancy going with me? – he asked looking into your eyes expectantly, but his voice was soft, and if we weren’t talking about George Weasley here, you’d say shy. You really had set your mind on going with Matt, Georges question was really surprising. You were not aware that was the case for the both of you. You’d never expect that. Yet the idea was interesting. You knew you’d have fun with him. -Yes – you smiled sweetly and bit your lower lip a bit, standing small in front of him He let out a breath, grinned at you and nodded too, looking away -Yeah, cool.. wicked.. – the last part almost inaudible.

Part 3

[yostresswritinggirl]

Hello to everyone in the exiled community!! This is my application to be your sugar (?) mommy friend in genshin impact! :DD here is my long list~!

I have two accounts!!

The first one is currently AR 52 halfway into 53, and the other is AR 48 halfway into 49 ywy

I dont judge whoever character it is you main because I love each one of them and my characters are flexible enough to fit whatever role you give me on the team~

You want me to carry you? I got you!! My level 90 Razor (cons 3, two talents lvl 9 and the other one already crowned, crit rate 68% and crit dmg over 180%, energy recharge 140%) and I will do everything we can to protect you as well as fight every single enemy for you if you wish us to <33 (his crit hits are usually only 25k+ using his burst but the highest I’ve reached with him is over 80k+ believe it or not) (im still building him up so im really excited once I finally get to be satisfied enough with my build for him)

Oh? You want me to assist you and have an attack boost? I’d love to!! My lvl 90 Bennett (cons 3, talents are lvl 8 with his burst lvl 9, hp over 20k, atk over 2k, energy recharge over 180%) is always ready to join you in your adventure team! We’ll try our hardest to boost you up and make you stronger, dear friend ^^

A healer, but not Bennett since you want to be the one using him? Totally fine by me!! I have a lvl 80 Diona (cons 3) that will assist you and make sure that your characters won’t die- Oh! And we’ll also protect you as much as possible using her icy shield, of course ywy

Someone who will gather all of the enemies so that you can properly execute your own attacks? My lvl 80 Venti will be perfect for the job!! No worries of your character’s burst missing because we’ll gather them in one place so you can perform elegantly and beautifully, darling <33

You want me to use Xiao instead because you’re a simp for him? No need to be so embarrassed, dear! Although he’s always grumpy, my lvl 80 Xiao and I will serve and protect you so you have no need to worry your pretty little head over dealing with enemies (he is as stronk as razor so he also deals big boi dmg ywy)

Oho? An infinite supply of elemental shields? I believe my lvl 80 Albedo (con 1) will suffice!! We’ll always apply an elemental status to the enemy and have Albedo’s skill so that we can create shields in order to protect you and make sure you’re always safe

Petrify the enemies? My lvl 80 Zhongli is at your beck and call!! Although his build may not seem much, his damage may be even equal to my razor if i dare say so myself, really stronk!!

I also have a lvl 70 Kaeya and lvl 50 Diluc who Im currently leveling and building up, as well as farming materials for Childe once he comes home so that I can have the whole boyband up and running to carry you, my dearest <33

I have all four stars and most of them have decent builds each (even tho some of them are under leveled) so just say the word and ill use them for you!

I have most five stars, (if you count some of them being on my other accounts) with Klee, Mona, Jean, and Hu Tao included... so if you wish to see them ill gladly switch for you hehe

I actually take care of five accounts in total (two of which are mine, one of them my sister’s, and the other two my cousins’) so if you ever need a build for a certain character don’t hesitate to approach me for some advice or guidance!! ^^

Im not too rich in mora, since it went down from 4m to 1m after maxing out Razor and Benny along with talents of the other characters in my teams so my apologies :”))

What I do have is more than 30 wishes (some of them converted already) for you because its you that I truly wish to come home

Im very familiar with the whole map so far (since I used to farm almost daily) so if you want to farm materials then ill gladly point and guide you to the best spots and even let you take mine if you need them! ywy

I know how to play a few songs using the lyre (from religiously practicing and watching videos from the internet) so ill play a tune that will soothe your heart <3 of course, if you’d let me to, my darling~! (yk i had to learn how to play a few ricky montgomery songs)

Some of my friends consider me as good luck since I’ve never lost to the 50/50 before, (diluc and keqing came from the permanent banner) and ill share my luck with you so that you have no worries of losing it anymore in the future!

I play on mobile (not to mention im a razor main) so you dont have to feel bad if your internet is bad because same :”))

Even if I play on mobile, my aim is actually quite good- so you can always count on me to shoot those hilichurls down dead, as well as shoot an arrow to your heart to show everyone that you’re mine! ;)

Let’s hold hands while going on a date!! I know some of the best spots to take pictures and i promise to defeat anything that stands in our way

You dont even have to do anything!! You can watch while i do all the work because ill do everything for you and you wont have to stress yourself out

Again, if you want to, ill be your sugar mommy friend! Thank you for reading and ill be waiting for your reply, darling

Previous application

The long, awaited application. Omayghad I already lost count of how many apps we have now, Lehra why is this so long, Lehra what have you done aodnekwmo

[askaceattorney]

Dear Asexual-Deesasters,

Mod Edgeworth: 

If you want to know the answer to that question, go to this link.

Dear Skibot99,

Co-Mod: I’m fairly certain it was The Mod, but I don’t know for sure.  He actually had another one before it, made from an old Ace Attorney musical animation.  I haven’t been able to locate that video, unfortunately, but here’s the old banner:

Ah...  Those were good days.  Good days.

Dear Dawsongfg,

Co-Mod: It’s fine.  Besides, it won’t be too long before those letters are accepted, so maybe we’ll hold onto them until that time.

Dear skibot99 again,

Mod Edgeworth: The Lost Turnabout hands down. All logic is thrown out the window the moment Phoenix had amnesia. It’s clear the Judge knew something was wrong with Phoenix, so why didn’t he call for a recess or check on Phoenix? Not to mention Wellington was annoying. He’s probably the only character I would be hesitant to play as when answering letters, if only because he was so unbearable.

As for Turnabout Ablaze, I do agree that it is a drag to get through in the end, though the entire game of AAI was boring, aside from the game mechanics. As a case by itself, I wouldn’t put it as my least favorite, if only because I did get some funny parts out of it.  It also contributed to the overall story, whereas The Lost Turnabout could just be taken out and it wouldn’t effect the overarching plot.

Co-Mod: I’d probably have to go with Turnabout Big Top.  I honestly couldn’t figure out the part where you have to present Max’s poster without consulting a walkthrough.  Why couldn’t we just present Max himself?  Besides that, the ending was largely underwhelming -- the murder weapon was hidden under Acro’s blanket the entire time, but instead of seeing a screenshot of it there, we just have to imagine it.  Maybe it was a filler case, but that was no excuse for it to end so poorly.  Not to mention one of the witnesses was a literal puppet.

It’s hard truth, Trilo.  Live with it.

Dear skibot99 and Anonymous,

Mod Edgeworth: I… think I heard from her when the localization of DGS was announced? I know Mod Kristoph and Mod Maya introduced themselves when I came into the group. There’s a third person, but I only heard from her once. As for what’s going on with her… I don’t know.

As for the flooding the inbox, it’s fine. I won’t promise a letter or two won’t be deleted, but we may make an exception and I’d hardly consider 4-5 different letters flooding the inbox. However, I do highly suggest lowering your letter sending to no more than three a day to prevent deletion of your letters. The only time I’d say your letters are flooding the inbox is when you’re sending 10-20 of them, especially of the same letter, and we have to scroll down for a while to get to the next letter. We will only choose three out of that pile and delete the rest.

And yes, we do have a few that send us 10-20 of the same letter to multiple characters in the span of five minutes. Geez.

Co-Mod: Mod Paups has had to remain absent for personal reasons, and sadly, has recently communicated to me that she wishes to leave the blog entirely.  Thanks for all you’ve contributed to this blog, Mod Paups, and best of luck in whatever you do next!

(Referenced Letter)

Dear mungeondaster,

Mod Edgeworth: Since I answered this one, I shall answer your letter.

(^ Why do I always use this sprite? ^) Actually, the localization never specified if Manfred Von Karma was born in Germany or not. In fact, we never knew the German part until Justice For All when Franziska Von Karma was stated to have flown all the way from Germany. It never specifies any reason for this and fans were quick to jump to the conclusion that it means the Von Karma family were German, which… isn’t entirely true? Manfred Von Karma never said he lived in Germany and, for all we know, Franziska could’ve lived in Germany to study law or something.

Now, the OG does give us more specific detail on this, being why I answered this the way I did. In the OG, both Von Karma’s were born Japanese, but lived in America or at least have an estate there. It specified that they were originally born in Japan, which would be translated to LA, California in the localization. While using the OG canon isn’t normal here, I will use it, if the localization doesn’t specify things. In this case, it never specified if the Von Karma’s were born in Germany or if Manfred Von Karma lived in America. Since he had to wait out the Statue of Limitations for DL-6, we can assume he lived in LA for 15 years or more. That means he’s American.

I am still getting the hang of writing letters, but I try to stick to canon as much as possible. If you believe we’ve made an error in our letters, feel free to let us know, but also show proof, if we go against canon. We’ll be sure the letter is sent to the right mod or else fix it.

Dear  Bluedragoncody,

Mod Edgeworth: I... don’t know how to feel about that.

Also, I accidentally deleted your previous letter before this one when trying to post it on here. I’m so sorry about that. If you could remember it, would you send it again?

Co-Mod: I’ll just respond to this with an old classic:

Dear Aceattorneyismyjam,

Mod Edgeworth: I-I’m not a pro! I accidentally deleted an important mod question from bluedragoncody, because of my inexperience. Oof! Again, so sorry!

Granted, I am good with digital art and writing essays, but I’m still trying to get the hang of being a mod here. Believe me, I do get corrected on several mistakes I do here. I can’t really call myself a pro just yet. I’ve only just started becoming a mod here last month lol

Dear Dahlia,

Mod Edgeworth: I thank you for your support of this blog and my essay. Manfred Von Karma is also my favorite villain and someone I do feel is underestimated as a one dimensional villain. I think people hate him so much, because of how he ruined Miles Edgeworth’s life without looking at the bigger picture. They focus on the bad things with their black colored glasses without dissecting Manfred Von Karma’s character as a whole. 

One thing I love about this blog, even before becoming a mod, is that no one here ever portrayed Manfred Von Karma as the one dimensional villain. He can be snappy at times, but as proven in many of our previous letters, he’s also portrayed as being calm when threatened, polite at times and absolutely loves his wife and children. Yes, he’s a terrible person, but that’s what makes him so interesting. He’s a bad, evil person that does good things from time to time. It doesn’t justify any of his horrible deeds, murder included, but it does make him human.

Co-Mod: I’m...going to assume you’re a different Dahlia.  (I’m grabbing a Magatama of Parting just in case, though.  I’m sure you can understand.)

Anyway, thanks for being such a loyal follower!  This blog’s been through a lot of changes since it began, and since I joined it back in 2017, so I’m glad it’s still a good source of enjoyment for you.  I’ve seen all sorts of cringe by now, by the way (some of which I wrote myself), so don’t worry about it.

I’m also glad that the characters still sound like themselves and not like us.  The hilarious personalities and quirks given to them by Capcom’s writers, as well as the humanity in so many of them, make them easy to relate to, and thus fairly easy to mimic.  I may have said something like this before, but I see myself in a lot of them -- in Athena’s fear of inadequacy, in Apollo’s desire for justice in a world where it’s hard to find, in Sebastian’s confusion about where to go next after his world falls apart, and possibly even in the von Karmas’ desire for perfection.  I of course identify with their positive feelings as well -- Phoenix’s smugness when he gets things right, Athena’s joy after pulling off a victory in court, Adrian’s pride after her self-confidence is restored, etc. -- but there’s something about the struggles they face that make them easier to relate to, on top of being that much more awesome in the end.

Unfortunately, I can’t promise anything about this blog continuing on in perpetuity.  For one thing, I don’t plan on being around forever (I’m fairly certain the other Mods don’t, either), and for that matter, there’s also no telling how long Tumblr will be around.  All I can promise is that I’ll give my best while I’m here, and that the love from you and everyone else who shares it here is sure to be what keeps us going.  Thank you for your contribution!

Dear TurqouiseJavelin,

Mod Edgeworth: Hm... not bad ideas. Though, we mods choose our own mod names under the condition that it doesn’t match anyone else’s mod name.

Co-Mod: What Mod Edgeworth said.  Choosing the name “Mod Athena” may or may not increase your chances of being hired, though.  *wink, wink*

Dear Anonymous, 

Mod Edgeworth: Actually, Gregory was stated in the Autopsy to have died by a gunshot. However, you do bring up something interesting. If Gregory Edgeworth realized he was dead and last remembered Robert Hammond strangling him, he wouldn’t think “I died by the shot of a gun.” Since the Detectives weren’t aware that victim had died unconscious, they’d assume the victim would recall being shot and killed. This makes me wonder if Gregory Edgeworth was channeled, but never brought to court to be cross-examined.

There are still holes, but I do like your aspect on DL-6.

Co-Mod: Dang...  No matter how many times you come back to this game, there’s always something new to think about.  I honestly hadn’t considered those details about Yanni Yogi’s trial.  Your explanation makes the most sense to me, but there’s one other possibility regarding Gregory’s testimony -- he may have chosen to lie about who murdered him in order to protect his son from a murder charge.  That’s all open to interpretation, of course, so your guess is as good as ours.

It’s a good thing we’re not actual defense attorneys, huh?

-The Mods

[xbunnybunz]

Weak Hero University (1/?) [Reader x Weak Hero]

Summary: I know you assholes are crying now that the first season of Weak Hero is over. But you've got other things to focus on, like where the fuck you're going to live after getting kicked out of your old dorm. Luckily, you've found one last open room on the other side of Weak Hero University. What could possibly go wrong?

Genre: Romance, Humor, Slice of Life

Date: 1/1/2021

-----

“I’m sorry miss, but this is the best we can do for you at the moment”

A paper slides its way across the heavy wooden desk, room illuminated by fluorescent bulbs and touting a single decorative banner draped across the wall: “Welcome to Weak Hero University.”

“It’s the only room we could find. The terms are a bit… Different than what students usually get, but I’m sure you won’t have too much trouble accommodating.”

You look at the housing agent, her waxy skin and tacky gold earrings swinging with every polished smile she threw at you. Then you look down at the documents sitting in front of you, feeling a bit offput by her strangely persistent attempts to move you into this room.

“I’m sorry, I’m not quite sure what the issue with this room is?”

She breaks out into a laugh that sounds like grating metal and you nearly shit your pants on the spot.

“Oh dear, there’s nothing wrong with the room honey! Don’t you even worry about that.”

Manicured red nails scrape up some files sitting beside her. She places them in front of you and waves her hand over them like she’s presenting you with a metal suitcase full of crack cocaine.

“See here, dear. The room is in tip-top-shape!” She swings her head each time she speaks and you swear you can hear something breaking in her neck.

“Your own bed, a window overlooking campus, central air conditioning, a kitchen and a bathroom, running water—no lead,” She winks at you as if this is a treat, “and a shared common area for all your new friends!”

She weaves her fingers together and smiles again, like a shark. “This is an ideal situation! Wouldn’t you agree?”

You look at her warily and lean over to inspect the commodities list more carefully. True to her word, there was promise of your own room and accommodations to basic necessities. It was more than your previous housing had provided, and certainly beat sleeping on the streets after being kicked out.

“I guess it is. What’s the payment?”

She grins and you think you hear a baby crying in the far distance.

“Emotional debt to fictional characters.”

You look up from tying your shoe, far too distracted by kempt laces to be paying attention to the plot.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

The agent smiles. “I’ll send you details later, dear.”

You hum as you scan the terms again, almost entirely convinced that you were being swindled but not being able to do anything about it because University hates you.

She slips a fountain pen into your hand while you’re distracted and points at a line at the bottom of the page, hands draping over the top portion of the paper.

“If you’re ready to make this official, please sign the form next to this X, honey.”

You don’t really see how there’s a better option, so you reach over and sign your name, ink running from the pen like blood from an open wound.

The moment your pen lifts from the paper, she snatches it up again and beholds it like a jewel.

“Finally, my well-deserved raise.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

She grabs a pair of keys and tosses it over her shoulder with surprisingly skillful aim, landing them right in the palms of your hands.

“Good luck, honey. We’re closed, so get out.”

You’re pushed out of the office with the keys in your hands and the door slams shut behind you.

You’re left wondering what exactly you had gotten yourself into until the next day, when you find your way to your new room, luggage in tow behind you.

Much to your surprise, this part of campus wasn’t the run-down dump you had presumed it was. In fact, the buildings all looked relatively new, perhaps even more recently built than your old dorm. Your queasy gut that had been stirring all morning was nearly placated. Perhaps everything would be alright, after all?

You raised a hand to knock on the door but hesitate, pulling it close to your chest.

Would you be able to make friends? What if you didn’t get along with some of them? These suite-styled rooms were the largest available on campus, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t even a bit nervous.

You gain a glint of determination in your eye and furrow your brows, clenching your fist like a shoujo anime protagonist.

No! You wouldn’t allow these bad thoughts to cloud your conscience. You came to Weak Hero University to make friends and have a good time, not to get good grades! You were stronger than that!

You clear your throat and go to knock on the door, only for it to be flung open loudly by an auburn-haired man.

“Fuck! I told you there was someone outside, dumbass!”

A shoe comes propelling out of nowhere with supersonic speed towards the man, and right before you could mutter a “Huh?” he moves and it slaps you square in the face and breaks the sound barrier.

It sticks for a moment then flops onto the floor by your feet, your eyes blown wide.

“Dude what the hell? You hit her! Epic aim bro!”

A young man sitting on the couch bellows out with laughter, black hair falling into green eyes. Another man with strange, green-dyed hair emerges from around the corner holding another slipper, looking abashed.

“Damn, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you. I was aiming for Ben.”

You take in the scene slowly, looking down at the number printed on your room keys and then at the number on the door.

“Why were you trying to hit him?” You ask numbly, suddenly beginning to remember the name of the documents the agent had you sign.

“Because…” The green haired man trails off, a bit of a flush on his cheeks. “He doesn’t wear pants when he opens the door.”

You look down and lo and behold, a pantless Ben stands across from you.

It becomes crystal clear to you in that moment, as a gray-haired boy hands Ben a pair of shorts, the title of the documents right before the housing agent had draped her hand across the top.

“Weak Hero University – BOYS DORM AGREEMENT”

Your dreams of becoming a shoujo anime protagonist are dashed. Welcome to shounen life, you sad bastard.

[elwenyere]

Call My Bluff

(Stony ficlet inspired by the prompt from @wired-heartbeats​, “Why are we the only two people relatively good at strip poker here damn it guess I gotta lose on purpose to get this rollin huh”)

“All right, chumps,” Clint said, flicking cards expertly across the table from his perch on the kitchen counter, “the little blind is a sock, and the big blind is an item of outerwear of your choice.”

Of course, since Clint hadn’t suggested they play strip poker until the team had already made a substantial dent in Bruce’s latest batch of home-brew IPAs, some of them didn’t have many choices left at this point. Bruce had managed to hold onto both socks but was otherwise down to just his boxers, a white tee shirt, and a watch. Natasha had discarded a jacket, a headband, and a boot. And Thor and Clint were both surrounded by piles of clothing, though Tony suspected they were actually stripping at a faster rate than they were losing.

Steve, on the other hand, had yet to shed a single item.

It was infuriating, really, because Tony had spent all day reviewing the World’s Most Soul-Deadening Slide Presentations ahead of the Board meeting tomorrow – a meeting for which he’d also promised Pepper that he would stay sober – and so the very least he deserved for so much good behavior was for the supersolider with whom he’d been hopelessly infatuated for the last two years to show a little skin, for Christ’s sake. Instead, the only consolation available was that Tony was playing about as well as Steve, having sacrificed only his tie and a pair of cufflinks to win a button-down shirt from Bruce on the previous hand.

Tony folded early this time around, partially because Clint was squinting one eye in a way that meant he was going to bet big and partially because Tony wanted to watch Steve’s face as he checked the bet. Tony had learned more and more of Steve’s tells over the years: the furrow between his brows that meant he was worried, the crossed arms that meant he was remembering something he couldn’t talk about. The data set grew regularly these days, filling out with the little signs that let Tony predict how Steve was going to move and what he was going to need. But still, for the life of him, Tony could not read whatever it was that flashed across Steve’s face in moments like this one, when he glanced up at Tony as he thumbed the edge of his cards. The expression came and went, leaving a sensation like a hot coal in the center of Tony’s chest.

“It’s my deal,” Steve said finally, and Tony snapped out of his reverie in time to notice that Thor had won the last hand, and Clint was now heading to the pantry to grab potato chips wearing nothing but a pair of purple boxer-briefs.

Natasha, meanwhile, was taking much longer than seemed strictly necessary to relieve herself of a pullover sweater, and Tony suddenly froze in the act of picking up his cards: because how had Natasha given up a sweater? Tony had lost every bet he’d made with her since the days when Natalie Rushman was clearing his schedule for lunch at Carbone, and she had just abandoned her second-largest item of clothing to a pocket-nines bluff from Thor, God of Incurable Credulity? Not fucking likely.

Tony narrowed his eyes as he watched her twirl the discarded sweater in a few graceful circles with her wrist. Noticing his glare, she gave him the tiniest of smirks, her head inclining across the table. Tony followed its direction and saw that Bruce was staring openly, mouth hanging slightly ajar, cards lying untouched on the table.

Well that was an interesting development.

Tony felt a slow grin spreading across his face, and he looked instinctively back toward Steve to see if he had noticed Natasha’s adaptation to the game as well. But when he met Steve’s gaze, the grin stuck, only halfway formed. Because Steve was staring directly at him and wearing an expression that (as Tony had learned through painful experience) roughly translated to: “wearing a parachute would only slow me down.”

Steve dealt the river card without even glancing at it.

“I’d like to raise the bet,” he said. “Nothing shy of two yards of fabric.”

“A rousing challenge!” Thor yelled, slapping his cards down on the table. “I would hate to give way under any less brave an assault.”

“I’m out,” Natasha smiled. “I don’t think I have the kind of action this round calls for.”

Tony twirled his cards between his thumb and index finger, doing his best to pass off the sudden firing of his nerves as indecision over his hand. Steve had leaned back in his chair, but his eyes hadn’t left Tony’s, and whatever look Tony had caught a glimpse of earlier was fixed in place now, making Tony feel vaguely like the arc reactor was overheating.

“I’ll call,” Tony said, drumming his fingertips on the table. Steve finally broke eye contact to look down at the movement, and Tony watched in disbelief as his jaw somehow set even further: like concrete getting pressed into granite.

“I’m uhh – I’m out I think? Yeah, I’m going to fold,” Bruce said.

“Probably the right choice, Banner,” Clint nodded sagely, now back from the kitchen and tossing barbecue chips to himself in the air.

“Okay boys, show us the goods,” Natasha demanded.

“Full house,” Tony announced, laying down a king and a queen.

“Well, you’ve got me there, Tony,” Steve replied. Slowly and deliberately, he turned over his cards to reveal a king and a ten.

A pair of kings? But that was a garbage hand. That meant that Steve –

Steve was reaching down and peeling off his undershirt and sweater in one smooth motion.

“Bad luck, I guess,” he said. And then he gave a shrug that sent an absolutely criminal ripple of movement across his bare chest.

Oh. Oh: that smug, chiseled bastard.

“Deal the cards, Nat,” Tony said, taking care to wet the tips of his fingers with his tongue before he plucked his off the table.

One hand later, Tony was slipping the waist of his pants slowly over his hips. Two hands later, Steve was using more muscles to remove a pair of socks than Tony had known the human body to contain. When Tony retaliated by rolling up his sleeves before peeling off his own socks, Steve ripped his belt off with a speed that made Tony feel like the armor had taken a blow to the head. By the time Tony shimmied his way out of his dress shirt, Bruce had to pretend to bump into the table before Tony remembered there were other people in the room.

“I’m going to head to bed,” Steve said abruptly, tearing his eyes away from Tony’s forearms as he stood up. “Gotta know when your luck has turned.”

“Oh someone’s getting lucky, for sure,” Clint smirked, and then he ducked — almost in time to avoid a projectile potato chip from Natasha.

“Yeah, so I’m just going to…go be over there now,” Tony said, in what he felt was an impressive display of self-possession for someone staring at the retreating ass of Steve Rogers.

“Don’t say I never did anything nice for you, Tony,” Natasha called after him as he scurried out of the room.

He barely made it around the corner and into the hallway before he was being swung around and held against the wall, one of Steve’s hands planted firmly against his chest.

“Took you long enough to get out of that shirt,” Steve growled.

“I could have gotten to the shirt faster if someone weren’t an unrepentant cheater who was dealing from the bottom of the deck – again,” Tony shot back, gripping the loops of Steve’s jeans and pulling their hips together.

“I must have misread your signals then, because I was pretty sure you were interested in what I might do from the bottom,” Steve whispered, his lips teasingly close.

“God, Rogers,” Tony groaned, “how can you be so corny and so hot at the same time? It drives me completely nuts.”

“It does?” Steve asked, the pressure against Tony’s chest lightening as Steve pulled back to search Tony’s face.

“No, Steve,” Tony said patiently, “I just wriggled my hips in front of Clint Fucking Barton because you fill me with incredibly casual, ordinary thoughts. Of course you drive me nuts, you idiot. I’ve been crazy about you for years.”

And that was probably more of a revelation than a race to lose at strip poker merited, but Tony couldn’t regret it, because a totally new expression had bloomed over Steve’s face. As Steve leaned down and pressed their foreheads together, one finger tracing the line of Tony’s jaw, Tony tried to memorize it. Tell: the smile that meant Steve Rogers was happy.

[shinydelirium]

MLQC Season 2 Chapter 9 (Kiro) Final Part [Delayed Answer] & [Fissure] Translation [CN]

***SPOILERS*** THIS POST CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR CONTENT NOT YET RELEASED ON EN SERVER!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!***

Here’s the rest of Kiro’s story from Season 2 chapter 9

For the previous translations of Season 2 Chapter 9: Part 1

Enjoy~

[Delayed Answer]

The day of the new song conference finally came to a successful conclusion.

Thinking that I could finally go home and rest at ease, I suddenly received a message from Savin, asking me to bring Kiro to the company right away.

After listening to my retelling, Kiro’s smile immediately froze on his face as if he got caught sneaking out for barbecue.

Kiro: Savin will definitely give me three hours of ideological education.

Kiro: ….Or I’ll just slip away and say that my stomach hurts.

MC: It doesn’t matter, I will help you intercede.

Kiro sighed. After thinking long and hard, he quickly aligned with me and prepared to proactively explain his mistakes.

Pushing open the door of the company, gold foil ribbons suddenly fell from the ceiling and cheers came one after another to my ears.

Kiro and I were stunned in place, surrounded by everyone.

Kiki: Congratulations to our company’s successfully held new song release conference by the ace artist, Kiro!

Willow: We did it!!!

The company is full of lights and festoons and the banners of “Today’s New Year” is displayed everywhere.

Kiro was pushed to the center of the crowd, surrounded by balloons, ribbons, and flowers. Soon, a huge cake was pushed in front of him.

Behind him was a long row of tables filled with tempting cupcakes and carbonated drinks.

A few golden letter balloons were fixed on the wall, piecing together the words “KILO”.

It turns out that everyone thought that Kiro rarely showed up these days because of the sullenness of the last storm so they prepared this surprise to cheer him up.

Kiro: Scared me to death…I thought I came to receive ideological education.

Savin: Don’t worry, there will be time for that later. ***Changed some wording***

With everyone’s urging, Kiro blew out the candles on the cake.

Kiro: Thanks, everyone!

His smile in the candlelight was captured by the camera. At this moment, the whole world is full of hope and life like never before.

After the celebration banquet, Kiro and I went to the company’s terrace for some fresh air.

As the sun sets, the evening breeze gently takes away the remaining warmth.

MC: Can you tell me now…?

MC: How did the “last-minute superhero” Kiro stop the train?

Kiro: It’s actually very simple. I briefly hacked into the car’s control system and activated the emergency braking function.

Kiro: As long as the startup program is disrupted, the train will be able to stop.

MC: What! I didn’t think of that before!

Kiro: The most important thing is that the boy changed his mind. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have worked even if I typed many lines of code.

MC: You’re right, but fortunately, he was not brainwashed by the people of GRAY RHINO.

Kiro: Because his heart has never changed.

Kiro: He lost his way and fell into a quagmire. All he needed was someone to pull him out.

Kiro: Therefore, we have also agreed that no one will say a word about what happened today.

The wind lifted his hair on his forehead and the eyes that looked at me were shining.

I nodded solemnly.

MC: No matter what, I will support your decision.

MC: What’s more, during that plane accident, he  changed his mind in the end and saved the person on that flight.

The real culprit is GRAY RHINO. They took advantage of this boy’s pain and weakness to achieve their goals.

If today’s crisis wasn’t resolved, perhaps the contradiction between Evolvers and ordinary people will incite into an unprecedented degree….

Thinking of this, my mind suddenly fell into a daze.

CORE is like a stone thrown by an invisible hand, constantly stirring up even bigger ripples. I’m also more and more certain that the most critical variable in this world is CORE.

But for most people in this world, some of them choose to move forward and some choose to retreat.

Some people stay where they are, while others are lost and don’t know where to go.

Therefore, there are many people with inconsistent paces and different destinations.

The history of this world is written by everyone, but not everyone’s fate will be recorded.

Can their voices be heard? Can these meager destinies be included in the “beautiful future” pursued by this society?

Regardless of whether it is B.S., the Special Task Force, GRAY RHINO, these self-regulated people at the forefront, how can they frame the correct choice at every step….

Kiro: What are you thinking about? Why do you show such an unhappy expression again?

I shook my head.

MC: I was just thinking that the pain I felt from that boy might only be one thousandth or one ten thousandth of how he felt.

I was able to see his past memories, but I can’t 100% feel his current pain.

Kiro put down the soda can, rested his hands on the railing, and looked at me quietly.

Kiro: Will MC suffer because of her own abilities?

I thought for a moment and shook my head seriously.

MC: Only when you are close to suffering, you are closer to reality.

MC: Isn’t it cowardly if you ignore the facts because you are afraid of pain?

MC: And so….

Before I finished speaking, Kiro suddenly took my hand and gently placed it on top of his head.

His tousled hair brushes my palm, ticklish. I looked at him, puzzled.

Kiro: Then MC can also feel my memory.

The corners of his eyes were bent, and the golden color of the setting sun seemed to flicker in his eyes.

Kiro: Since you have the ability to perceive pain, you should also have the same right to perceive happiness.

I stared blankly at him and couldn’t help but blurt out.

MC: Are you happy?

Kiro: Mm. When I’m by your side, I am happy.

MC: Is this comfort?

Kiro shook his head, giving me a serious expression.

Kiro: Not comfort, but a promise. By your side, I am happy.

The wind rustled the hair on his forehead, revealing his starry eyes and the sincere gentleness in them.

Kiro: But speaking of the topic just now, I also have a question for MC.

His tone suddenly became a little lighter.

Kiro: “If you don’t hurt people, you will be hurt”… what would you do with this choice?

MC: In fact, someone once told me this answer.

I looked into his eyes, as if I could feel a warm feeling pouring into my heart.

MC: He should be the one who chooses the latter without hesitation , but he can always get himself out of the situation.

Fresh and vivid memories. Some are complete. Some are fragmented and they converge like a river of flowing into the sea of memories little by little.

MC: But there is something he is a bit bad about—he likes to keep the secret until the end.

MC: …So I didn’t know for a long time after arriving.

Kiro blinked and suddenly sneezed twice in succession.

Kiro: Is someone speaking ill of me behind my back….?

I chuckled, the last regret in my heart seemed to disappear with the wind.

MC: Given that these days are so unlucky, let us be superstitious for a bit.

I took out a coin and put it in the palm of my hand, muttering something to the night sky.

MC: If it’s positive, it means something good will happen. If it’s negative, it means something generally good will happen----

Kiro: Miss Chips is so greedy. But----what if it’s in the middle?

MC: What a coincidence!

I retorted righteously and tossed the coin up while talking.

The silver coin drew an arc in the air. I held my breath and waited without blinking for the coin to fall back into my palm.

That’s when a cold gust of wind came and caught me off guard. With a shake of my hand, the coin slipped through my fingers. ***Changed some wording***

MC: !

Kiro clutched his stomach and laughed, but I could only watch the coin fall downstairs.

MC: Unexpectedly, there is such a thing as bad luck…

Hearing me sigh, he stopped laughing and looked at me seriously and tenderly.

Kiro: Maybe God thinks that this answer should not be revealed now.

Kiro: So, let us leave everything to the unknown tomorrow.

[Fissure]

The night is dark, like a deep ocean with turbulent undercurrents and unknown crises lurking within.

The old streets that no one cares about in the city form a narrow, unnamed area. Only a few dirty, industrial buildings stand here.

This is the Secret Research Institute of B.S.

I hurried out of the elevator, walked through the dark corridor, and opened one of the hidden doors.

I put the documents in my hand on the table and told the B.S. researchers who looked at each other.

MC: Help me find something.

MC: Without my permission, do not disclose it to anyone and do not tell anyone that I have been here.

MC: Including BOSS.

B.S. Researcher: But Miss Nox, this is not compliant—

MC: Don’t forget that I have the first level permission of B.S.

The winter seems to have sneaked into the city quietly and every narrow street has been immersed in the precipitous chill.

When I left this building, I finally breathed a sigh of relief.

The roof of the building in the distance seemed to glint with a hint of pure silver, almost melting into the moonlight.

I couldn’t help but look back, only to find that the streak of silver was gone.

A black shadow flashed in the night sky, and it quickly melted into the dark.

All the hustle and bustle in the city, the noise of people underneath.

As the cold wind passed by, he stared at the street where he lived alone in the night, holding his breath for the appearance of a figure.

??: Helios, it’s time for you to act.

Helios: I’m not doing things for you. You’re not qualified to order me.

The person on the opposite end sighed softly.

??: There has always been a big misunderstanding between us. In other words, between B.S. and GRAY RHINO.

??: I hope that our future cooperation can be built on the basis of mutual trust.

Helios: The assumption is that you don’t do unnecessary stupid things.

Helios: If you want to get something like that, just do as I say.

Helios cut off the call impatiently, and the man’s hypocritical voice made him feel very disgusted.

As far as he can see, a figure finally walks out of the building’s door.

He watched the figure until the girl disappeared into the night.

He pressed his lips, pulled the rope fixed to his waist, and jumped off the billboard.

The dark figure jumped vigorously, following the rope in his hand, simply and neatly, and quietly entered the building from the window.

??: Who are you!

Helios: Don’t move.

The researcher who had just picked up the gun was caught off guard against the man’s golden eyes, and suddenly his fingers on the trigger were unable to exert force.

The man played with the knife in his hand, walked to the table, and his eyes fell on the experimental report.

Helios: Did she only leave this thing?

B.S. Researcher: …..

Helios: Answer me.

The golden light flashed in the man’s eyes, and his raised voice was like an unsheathed coldness.

This invisible power. His vocal cord muscles contracted uncontrollably and a word was slowly squeezed out of his throat.

B.S. Researcher: ….Yes.

He finally remembered the identity of the man in front of him and the legends about him circulating in the organization.

B.S. Researcher: You, you are….

Before he could recall his name, the man had already turned around.

Under the dim light, he suddenly turned his head and the corner of his mouth formed into a mocking arc.

Helios: I command you all—

Helios: Forget everything that happened just now.

“The train will be arriving shortly, please stand behind the safety line and wait in an orderly manner…”

The first ray of morning light came into the platform. The boy remembered yesterday’s ordeal and subconsciously took a step back.

But soon, what the blond man had said, rang in his ears--

Kiro: Those who use past experiences to deny themselves are cowardly people.

Kiro: Don’t believe in the stories told by others, let alone the signs of the destiny you have altered.

These words shone like a beam of light into the abyss of his heart.

He made up his mind that no matter what the people in that organization say, he will not waver, let alone contact them again.

Thinking of this, he took a lively step forward.

He can do anything that makes him strong. Such as, submitting a transfer application form. Or give a severe beating to those who bullied him in the past.

And his Evol should be his booster, taking him to farther destinations, just like the train he is about to board.

The train stopped in front of the platform. The sound of running tracks overwhelmed the small sound of bullets in the air as well as the sound of the boy hitting the ground.

The gunpowder smoke from the muzzle quickly dissipated into the air like white mist from the breaths of pedestrians in winter.

The train doors opened and a few passengers stepped out of the carriage, yawning.

Soon, screams and chaotic footsteps filled the entire station.

The tall man standing at the top of the stairs grinned slightly, his smile fleeting. He put the gun into his sleeve and turned briskly to leave.

??: Mission completed.

The passengers panicked as messy, bloody foot-prints were left on the floor tiles.

??: The bait is ready and the fish should be hooked.