#and found out the colour in my hair is in fact not platinum anymore. which is also weird.

[1799extinct]

why is my beard growing in platinum this week

[innocent-malfoy-slut]

Sytherin Queen

Draco Malfoy x slytherin!reader

Word Count: 3,8k

Type: fluff/angst/smut

Summary: the Sytherin Queen and King are announced and to celebrate your victory, Draco has something unusual planned for you.

Characters: Draco Malfoy, Reader (y/n), Pansy Parkinson

Warning(s): cheating (?), fingering, sex in front of a mirror

The first month of your seventh, and last, year at Hogwarts had started really smoothly. You had been no problems at attending classes and, for the first time since you attended the school, you felt like a normal student in a normal school.

But then your caring boyfriend took the matter into his own hands and did his better to remember you every day who you were and who you belonged to. He was older than you. He had graduated the year before and when you went back to the School on the first of September, he wasn’t with you.

“Troubles in paradise?” Pansy Parkinson appeared in the seat next to yours in the library and after placing her bag down on the floor, she turned completely to you and started intensely at you, “I can see the gears rotating into your brain.”

You let out a bitter smile and lowered your gaze on the opened book in front of you, not able to hold hers any longer, “Graham isn’t replying to my letters anymore,” you rubbed your hands on your face, but kept going, “We spent the entire summer together, but now he is distant and…I don’t know why I am doing this, it’s like he doesn’t even wants to try to make this work,” you spat out all your doubts regarding your relationship with your boyfriend. A tear went down your cheek and then landed on the white paper, “And I don’t know if I still love him.”

“Silly, I already know that!” she kept het voice tone low, yet it was like she had shouted it right to your face, “If it can comfort you, you’re pretty good at hiding your emotions, but you like staring…a lot,” Pansy was pleased with herself when she succeeded in getting a smile from you, “Listen, I remember how you and Graham used to be and I hoped it would work also once outside these walls. But obviously they aren’t going the way you wanted them,” she took your hands in hers and said: “I’ve never been seriously involved with someone yet, but I suggest you take your time and clear your mind about your feelings for Graham…and the other boy.”

Two weeks later you were still fervently hoping in a reply letter from your supposed-to-be boyfriend outside the school. After the fourth day you understood it wasn’t worth the wait, so you removed the necklace he had given you on 31stAugust that same year and put it into your drawer, next to your bed, unsure of what to do with it.

A few days before Pansy had convinced you to compete for the role of Slytherin Queen, which would have been assigned the night of the Ball -exclusive for Slytherins. You signed up under your friend’s insistence and there you were, in your dorm, in front of a full-figure mirror, just looking at you.

You had chosen a long green satin dress, with thin straps on your shoulders and a draped cowl neckline which highlighted your olive-skinned neck. Your parents had sent you earlier that week a piece of jewellery which came directly from your grandmother’s collection. It was a necklace representing a snake, it was entirely encrusted with shining diamonds, and at the end of it, right on the head of the snake, there were two big emeralds.

“That outfit is literally screaming ‘I’m the Slytherin Queen’,” Pansy appeared from behind the door of the bathroom and leaned against the frame of it, “Was that you the one who didn’t want to sign up for the competition?” she took a sip from a glass she then placed down on her bedside table.

“Yeah,” you mumbled as you sat down on your bed, “I’m still not sure about that,” you chuckled and fidget with your fingers, “Why would I be the Slytherin Queen when there’s you, or Daphne.”

“There’s a difference between you and us. Yes, we may be the centre of gossip, but I look at you while you take care of the First Years, or while you help the Third-Year girls with their problems. If I can use this term, you act as a mum. You are the kindest Slytherin among all of us.”

You gave her a heart-warming smile and hugged her tightly, “It’s time for us to go,” you hid yourself from her while swiping a solo tear running down your cheek, “Are your ready?” your hand reached for the doorknob and turned it once you made sure Pansy war right behind you.

You climbed down the stairs and soon were met with the strong smell of Firewhiskey, introduced illegally inside the green and silver common room. You didn’t notice the whispering all around you, both boys and girls were astonished by your beauty that night. Pansy went pouring you a glass of Whiskey, meanwhile you found a free-from-people spot in the room. You detected Blaise and Theo making their way into the crowd, being soon approached by two girls per one. They were both wearing two simple grey suits, which fitted the very good.

Behind them the door of the prefect’s dorm opened, and Draco Malfoy got out of it. He was wearing an entirely black suit; the trousers covered his thin and long legs perfectly, making them look slimmer. His tie was what made you drool the most; the thing you imagined him doing to you with his black tie. You were almost ashamed by the way Draco attracted you; you had never felt anything like that with Graham, especially because the nature of your relationship was strictly based on who you were and the heritage -cultural and non-cultural- you brought with you.

“You’ll need this, trust me.”

You didn’t notice Pansy coming closer to you and handing you a glass of Firewhiskey, which you gladly took from her hands and swallowed in one swift motion, “I won’t make it ‘till the end of the night,” you whispered more to yourself than o your friend, and fortunately she seemed not to have listened.

Instead, Pansy was focused more on the three boys now approaching the two of you, “Girls, aren’t you stunning this evening,” Theo lingered with his eyes on your neckline, earning a slap on the back of his neck, “What?” he asked the platinum-haired boy on his left.

“She has a boyfriend, who is a Slytherin. Calm down,” Malfoy scolded him with a harsh tone, while he kept shaking the drink within the glass between his hands. He raised his gaze from the light brown liquid and fixed his eyes on Pansy’s dress.

“There you are!” a voice which came from behind you surprised both you and your brown-haired friend on your left, “They are about to name the Queen and the Kind,” Daphne informed all of you. She was followed by her younger sister, Astoria, who kept revolving around your group since the beginning of the year.

You couldn’t say you were bothered by her presence, especially since she would sometimes turn to you when she needed any kind of advice. But you often found yourself observe the way she approached the older boys, mainly Draco. Astoria used to touch his arm whenever he was talking to her, or her fastidious laugh which was always too exaggerated.

Even though you had never talked about it with Pansy, you had the impression she had the same thoughts as you about the younger Greengrass and her pretty explicative manners with boys.

You moved along with your group as they came closer to the little stage, set up for the occasion, and stopped right underneath it. One of the boys from the same year as yours -so, from the seventh year- climbed up the stage and took the microphone between his hands.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the annual Slytherin Ball,” the crowd started cheering and considered the amount of alcohol which had been already consumed, the excitement was brimming, “We will start right away with the name of the Slytherin King,” he pointed at a crown laid on the top of a wooden-made stool, “Let’s be clear, who competed never had a chance against the one and only Slytherin Prince. Ladies, you voted your King to be…” the suspense which followed was senseless, because everyone in the room had understood who was about to be called. And, in fact, the crowd exploded shouting when Draco was invited to collect from the stage the crown now belonging to him. “Malfoy, do you want to reveal your Queen’s name?”

The platinum-haired boy took the envelope from the boy’s hands and unwrapped it. He read the name written on it and let out a soft chuckle, “Give me the crown,” after a moment he was getting off the platform with a feminine version of his crown, studded with hundreds of little silver-coloured glitters, in his hands. He came to a stop only once he was in front of your group.

Next to you, Pansy got excited, but you kept it together since you knew you weren’t the only one among you girls competing that night. Astoria Greengrass had signed up only one day before the beginning of the poll and she had quite an amount of ‘friends’ who certainly gave her their votes.

Draco switched his eyes between you and the younger girl. To you, it seemed like you could normally breath no longer; the only thing you attempt doing was holding your friend’s hand and, in that moment, you figured that maybe you actually cared about the damn crown. You looked into Draco’s eyes as they laid on you and you saw his lips slightly curling up.

What came next, your brain couldn’t process it. All of a sudden everybody’s eyes were on you and they watched as Draco carefully placed the crown onto your head, eventually locking a rebellious lock of your hair behind your ear. He looked at you as your cheeks flushed under his touch and, liking how your body reacted to his, he grabbed your hand with his while the other one was gently placed on your waist, “Would you like to dance, Queen?”

Saliva was no longer being produced inside your mouth, so what you did was simply nodding, trying not to lose your respectability by drooling over him.

The crowd made some space for you in the middle of the common room as Draco dragged you away from your friends. Once you were one in front of the other, he pulled you closer and you had to place both your arms over his shoulders -no that the position upset you. You started dancing really slowly; it was like you were studying each other, unsure of what you were doing was okay with the other.

Draco wasn’t the kind of boy who liked to ask, he would rather take what he believed being his by right. That was what he did with you on September of the same year; he didn’t care about your ‘boyfriend’ outside the school, what he really mattered to him was that you were his. And you were glad you could count on him.

What brought you to him was entirely different from what brought you and Graham together. You and Draco actually shared the same interests and there wasn’t a single moment since you knew each other that he made you feel inferior to him.

That was why when, in the general confusion, he asked you to follow him, you did it without even questioning him where to. He interlaced your fingers together and dragged you through the crowd and across the room; in less than a couple of minutes you were walking down the aisle of the boys’ dorm.

Draco had a room only for him; he said to you it was because he was a prefect, but deep down you knew he got it because of his father. And each time you tried to tease him about it, he would rapidly change the topic of the conversation. You had been more than one time inside of his room, and no one of your friends knew it.

Once you made it to his room, he closed the door behind your back and pushed you against it, “So, my Queen, how to you want to celebrate?” he whispered in a seductive tone next to your ear, “I have a couple of suggestions to make,” he kissed your lobe over and over again, leaving a trail of wetness behind, “Want to hear them?”

You nodded frantically, “T-tell me,” your hands were soon wrapped around the back of his neck and your lips found his in a matter of seconds, “What were you thinking, Draco?” you knew how much he liked his name being whispered by you, and since he had firstly told you that, you kept doing it -but only when there was only the two of you.

He put some distance between the two of you while he stroked your bottom lip with his thumb, “You are astonishing with this crown on,” he drew with his fingers the outline of it and then laid his eyes again on your figure, “Do never take it off tonight, sweetheart.”

You shivered as his fingers lifted the straps of your dress, “Is the door locked?” you looked around yourself and then stopped your gaze on his features, enlightened by the weak light inside the room. You didn’t have to ask; Draco brought a hand behind you and when you heard the key being turned in the keyhole, you were sure no one would have busted into the room that night.

Your hands, which were still hanging behind his neck, went stroking the tiny, soft hair on it, while his were now placed on your waist.

“Don’t waste our time then,” Draco dragged you forward, again and again, until your butt hit his desk, “I had in mind something different for today,” as he pulled down the strips of your dress, and let it fall on the ground, he was pleasantly surprised by what were you wearing under it.

A constant thought lingering in your mind all day made you wear a lingerie under the silk dress; it was basic, yet the sexiest Draco had ever seen on a woman.

He took his time observing you, imprinting in his mind the forest green strapless bra and slip on you, “I cannot say how much I love this colour on you,” his fingers went playing behind your back, with the hook of it, while his eyes paid attention a little lower from there, “No, I will show you how much I love this colour on you.”

You felt his hands leaving your body and felt cold and alone when he turned his back at you completely. You watched him tearing down a drape from the wall, unveiling a full-length mirror, “One quick question,” your curious self was coming out, “Is that always been there?” you didn’t address to him directly, instead you preferred looking at him through the glass, “And why I didn’t know about it?” you suddenly felt two large hands regaining their place on your hips.

“I don’t like the idea of seeing myself as I wake up.”

You looked up and chuckled at his words; it was such a Draco Malfoy’s typical expression to use, “Are we going to spend the entire night commending your mirror?” you turned around and placed your hands around the back of his neck, again, “Or are we up to something else?”

“You can bet that pretty ass of yours we are,” he roughly flipped you, now your back was pressed against his chest and your ass was grinding against his hard erection, “Nice dress, by the way,” his fingers traced the line of your shoulders and then went down, up to the very end of your back, “Maybe tomorrow morning you can make a catwalk just for me.”

“It depends,” you answered vaguely, and you lips curled up in a lazy smile as you enjoyed his touch burning your skin.

“On what? If I may ask.”

“On how good you fuck me tonight,” you looked like the typical innocent, good girl to everyone -even to Graham-, but there was one only person in the entire world who had the pleasure to meet the real you.

“Are you challenging me, Miss Y/L/N?” Draco pulled you further against him and his arms wrapped around your hips, “You know I never refuse a challenge, especially if I know I will win,” having said that, there was no more time for words. He pushed you down and within seconds you were on your knees, looking at him through the full-length mirror in front of you.

You kept silent, watching Draco pushing down his black jacket, which was soon followed by his black shirt; his fingers found the buckle the belt he was wearing and undid it -quite masterfully, according to you. His trousers were thrown onto the bed; he stood there, behind you, in his underwear which did left nothing to your imagination.

You licked your upper lip and smirked, staring directly into his eyes, “Are we going to take it slow all night?”

“Face down. Ass up,” Draco commanded you and chuckled as you eagerly accomplished his orders. His eyes followed the narrow line of the thong you were wearing. He couldn’t say he didn’t like it -he wanted that catwalk the morning after more than anything. Draco’s fingers trailed down the fabric until they rushed against your core, “Already so wet for me?”

“Only for you, Draco,” you knew how much he like it when you said it to him, and so you fitted that sentence every time you could.

“What do you want?” he kneeled behind you, eyes fixed on yours through the mirror, “You ask, and I will accomplish, my Queen.”

“Then,” you turned your head around to look him straight in the face, “I want to be fucked so hard that I won’t remember even my name tomorrow morning,” you noticed the lust sparkling in his eyes.

Draco’s hand laid down on your head and pointed it towards the mirror, he pushed until your cheek touched the soft carpet, “Spread your legs,” he supported the movement you made with your legs, “Good girl,” your underwear was moved to the side and the boy’s cold fingers were met with the heat of your wet pussy. Draco pushed his index inside you, twisted it and pulled it out. He repeated the action a couple of times before thrusting his middle and annular inside, too. He intensified his pace and was about to brought you your first orgasm of the night, except that he removed his fingers before the wave could hit you, “Pathetic.”

“W-why?” you asked breathless.

Since the first time you had sex with Draco, you understood it was nothing like the boys you had been before -nor Graham. Draco had always cared about you and your body, and out your pleasure before his own. Though he didn’t seem an altruistic person, within the walls of the bedroom, Draco came in second place. But he was an arrogant asshole even when you were throbbing for him.

“You should know by now that you are only allowed to come on my cock,” he kept his back straight while he brushed the tip of his hard member against the labia of your pussy, “I haven’t heard you beg yet.”

You let out a deep breath and steadied yourself o your elbows, reaching an even wide opening with your legs, “Please, my King, let me come on your cock. Please, fuck me ‘till my mind blo-“ you gasped when you felt him going deep inside you. You thought that he knew what he was asking for when he told you to put yourself in that position: you could literally feel him hitting all your soft spots and his tip was less than an inch away from your cervix.

He was big and thick; again, nothing you had experienced before.

“Move.”

You brought forward your hips and pushed them back, enough for his balls to hit your clit; you tilted your head back and closed your eyes, pleased with the sensation. You repeated you action once more, this time you were staring at his face, twisted in a satisfied expression. You heard him babbling senseless words and that gave you the strength to do it again. After that, you didn’t push yourself away, instead you kept your position and held his cock deep buried inside you.

“Already tired?” Draco went down on your ass at first gently, then he slapped it quite hard. He didn’t go back, but he gave you a thrust and you couldn’t help but lower your head. His fingers grabbed a few hairs of yours and pulled it up again, “I said: eyes on me. If not, you will be punished,” then he whispered next to you ears, “I really don’t want to show every Slytherin how accommodating you can be.”

Draco pulled himself back and then, in one quick motion, he thrusted back into you. He steadied himself to a fast pace, which had you moaning so loud that he congratulated himself for casting a silencing charm over the room moments before. He grabbed your crown, which had fallen from your head, and put it back on it, keeping it in place with another charm, “Look at yourself, the Slytherin Queen being destroyed by the only man who will ever see you like this,” he felt your walls tightening around him and his cock growing harder inside you, “You desperate slut.”

When you noticed his hand running between your legs, and your core, you shivered and then, all of a sudden, he pinched your clit, and you didn’t hold it back anymore; you screamed while the orgasm washed you over and over again.

When you raised your head to meet Draco’s grey eyes, he was already looking at you with a smile plastered over his face. It wasn’t his usual smirk, neither was he making of somebody, Draco Malfoy had on the soft smile he had only shown to you. The only girl he had ever cared about.

“I’ll give you that catwalk tomorrow morning,” you said in no more than a whisper, but you were sure he had listened to you because he giggled and placed a warm kiss on your back, along the line of your backbone, “Can we cuddle before round two?”

Draco broke into laughs, “Are you up for round two?” meanwhile he carefully made you stand up and took you to the bed. As usual he tucked you under the sheets and then jumped on the mattress, reaching his spot behind you.

“I’m always up for round two with you.”

Tag List

@iam-fucking-batgirl

[sunflowers-heart]

October 31st – Ghost Stories

13 Days of Spooky Writing Event

Pairing: Thranduil x Reader

Word count: 2,379

Warnings: None

Author’s note: Modern!AU. My last story for the event is also the longest, I hope you enjoy it! Participating was a lot of fun, thank you so much for running it, Jessica, I look forward doing more events in the future! <3

You were never particularly fond of the centuries-old manor you used to live in with your fiancé. No amount of splendid decorations nor modern architectural solutions could stop the overwhelming feeling of being constantly watched, of every single of your steps being followed, of the shadows disappearing in the corner of your eyes whenever you were trying to catch them.

It was odd, considering the fact that Thranduil seemed to not notice any of those things, no ill energy, no suspicious rustles in the middle of the night coming from the floor below your bedroom, nothing strange. He was never the man you would consider as insensitive, on the contrary, under the cold mask of calculation there was a compassionate soul, the one you fell in love in many years ago. It did not took a lot of time for him to ask you to live in his house together—the great, luxurious mansion appearing to you like some kind of untouchable dream. And yet, there you were, sleeping in the soft embrace of the man you loved, in the place people could only dream of.

With the invisible eyes watching your every step.

“Is something bothering you, my love?” Thranduil asked one day, stroking your hair in a caring manner as your cheek rested upon his chest, the book still open in his hand. “You seem tense.”

At first you said nothing. It was the beginning of a wonderful, sunny day, the leaves of a maple tree behind your bedroom’s window shining brightly in gold and orange, the smell of tea and coffee prepared by the cook downstairs reaching your senses and causing your stomach to grumble in need. It was supposed to be your Saturday, the day where none of you were supposed to work and simply enjoy your time together.

If only not for the dreadful feeling that something was terribly wrong.

“It’s nothing,” you muttered and played with a long strand of his platinum hair, twirling it over your finger. “I didn’t sleep well, that’s all.”

“I understand.” You felt his chest throb when he spoke and then the Adam’s apple to move when he swallowed. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“Bad feeling rather.”

“About?”

You frowned. Clarification of your worries was way harder than it seemed and immediately you thought that maybe getting into this subject was not the wisest idea. Supporting your weight on one elbow, you rose up and looked him in the eyes. There was a genuine concern, a will to help, and you wondered how people around you could be so blind to still consider him as ruthless.

“It’s just a stress,” you explained vaguely and kissed the corner of his lips. “No need to worry about, let’s go get breakfast, shall we?”

Whether he did not want to push you or respected your opinion, Thranduil did not ask any more questions. Still, he managed to successfully occupy your mind with kisses and delicious breakfast.

Walking up the stairs, you greeted the maid and headed forward to the dressing room to grab a coat before joining Thranduil on a stroll through the gardens. Although the weather seemed appealing from behind the windows, you quickly found out that it was rather cold once you stepped outside. Blowing wind tossed the fallen leaves all over the estate, giving the gardener a plenty of additional job.

Thankfully, spending the peaceful, completely normal morning with your fiancé was enough to make you lighten up a little, forgetting about the unpleasant incident. Perhaps you truly were overreacting; it was not the first time when your empathy gave you a wrong impression of what was going on around you and if you could only focus on something else, you could quickly realize that there was nothing to be afraid of. You were safe and there was a bright future ahead of you, full of wonderful surprises, marvellous adventures and never-ending love.

Smiling to yourself, you turned right on the first floor and went through the corridor, taking a mental note to take a pair of gloves and a scarf for Thranduil also, before you stopped abruptly and held your breath.

Cold sweat rolled down your spine as your mind was desperately trying to understand what you have just witnessed—to no avail. Frozen in place, you could only stare blankly at the portrait hanging on the wall, the one which has been there since the times of Thranduil’s grandparents. It was all the same as you remembered it; golden frame, heavy movements of brush against the canvas, mostly brown and copper colours used, green armchair appearing as soft and comfortable, roses blooming from the corners, however, now there was one detail missing.

The armchair was now empty.

“I swear to you, I’ve seen it,” you confessed, your trembling hand hidden in Thranduil’s, warmed up by his natural heat, as you led him to the first floor. “She was not there, the lady from the portrait disappeared as if she just casually stood up and went out of her painting. I know it sounds crazy but it’s true.”

Thranduil remained quiet, following you with the long steps until you finally reached the said portrait. Unexpectedly, you felt a wave of relief washing down on you as you realized that the lady was still not present, since you were afraid that once you will go and get your fiancé here, she might come back and therefore make you appear as a lunatic. You were not convinced if he would believe you in the story only.

His answer, however, was as stoic as he always was.

“I see…”

For a long moment, you were staring at the painting. With him by your side, there was new courage in your heart and eventually, you took a step forward, looking at the canvas from a different angle, hoping to maybe see her hiding behind the painted armchair. Naturally, she was not there and the painting was as flat as you could expect.

You peeked over the shoulder when you heard Thranduil walking away and quickly followed him.

“What are we going to do about it?” you asked hesitantly.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” You blinked in confusion. “There’s a living portrait in the house and we’re supposed to just ignore it?”

“What else should we do?” He raised an eyebrow and this question shushed you successfully.

Indeed, what should you do? Look for her? Where, on the on the other paintings, like in Harry Potter? Put the portrait down, so she would not have a place to come back to? Burn it? Every idea seemed to be more ridiculous than the previous one so you only shook your head in resignation.

You would gladly take a walk in the garden now, but first, you had to add few drops of bourbon to your coffee.

The lady came back on her painting next morning. She was sitting on her armchair in the same position, with the same, soft smile on her lips and you started to wonder whether yesterday happened at all. Thranduil confirmed your inquires to be true and although you still felt like in a dream, the life was going on. This time, however, everytime you passed the painting by, you were eyeing the portrait carefully, looking for any signs of movement, any proof that you were not crazy.

You and your fiancé equally.

She did not move for the next week but it was getting harder and harder to be glad about it, since various objects from the home started to disappear and appear in the same places some time later. First, your favourite mug, then Thranduil’s tie, a shoe, a key to the basement, porcelain figurine, 5th volume of the book series, a vinyl record and a single candle from the candelabra. None of the staff knew what happened and surprisingly, they were as shocked to discover the things reappearing as you were previously.

“Did that happen before?” you asked Thranduil one evening, while sitting by his side in the enormous living room by the fireplace. “Before I moved in, I mean.”

You did not have to explain the details to him, so he would know what were you talking about in an instant.

“Sometimes,” he sighed, still looking at the screen but now paying no attention to the film’s plot.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Why should I?” Corners of his lips turned up in a weak smile. “To scare you off with the ghost stories about my house being haunted?”

Fair point.

“Have you ever tried to… talk to it?”

He sent you a curious gaze.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean trying to communicate. I’m no expert but things like that usually happen when they want something. When they’re lost or scared or lonely. Maybe that’s the way of getting our attention so we can do something about it, while we’re still here.”

Thranduil did not answer for a long time, staring blankly at the screen, completely lost in his own thoughts. When you started to wonder whether he will talk about it with you anymore tonight, he finally spoke again, his voice slow and quiet, barely a tone above a whisper.

“My wife died many years ago. This place changed so much since she left, no current staff remember her and with every passing year, I’m remembering her less and less myself.” Rising a glass, Thranduil took a big sip of the wine but you decided to not interrupt him. It was the first time he has ever started to speak about her so elaborately.

You were aware that he was a widower, he has informed you about that at the beginning of your relationship, just in case you had anything against it. Still, he never spoke about her again as if he was avoiding this topic as much as possible, and you knew better than to start it. She was the love of his life and although at first it unsettled you, seeing the painful, tired expression on his face when he finally brought the subject proved you that there was nothing to be afraid of. His love for her was eternal but it did not lessen the depth of affection he had toward you.

Love was not a pool to divide between the people in certain parts, it was always different and always whole to give.

“She loved this house,” he continued. “She loved her son and she loved me. This place was filled with her love, completely. And truth be told, once she was gone, the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced was waking up one day and realizing that she’s not here anymore. As if she never existed, as if she was just a projection, a fleeting dream, a whisper on the wind… I could no longer touch her, feel her, hear her voice. She was as far away as the stars upon the sky, unreachable, unimaginable.

Then, things like that started to happen, sudden disappearances but nothing harmful, just a simple jokes. Silly games. At first I couldn’t believe my own sight either but it was true and it was not evil. Moreover, it was as if she was still there, a soft reminder that I wasn’t mad, dreaming about her love, and the memories we shared were real.

I missed her every day and please, don’t hate me for that, but I believe I’ll miss her forever, too.”

It was rare to see the tears in his eyes and the sight was enough to make you feel your eyes burning also. Gently, you hugged him, hiding his face in the crook of your neck and stroking his hair, the bittersweet grief squeezing your heart harder than ever before. You loved him more than anything; you were willing to leave your homeland for him, to withstand his difficult, distant personality and eccentric behaviour and to devote the rest of your life for him knowing, that he will never be truly yours.

Holding him in your arms, weeping the tears of sorrow, you loved him more than ever before.

The last thing which mysteriously disappeared in the house was never found.

You were sitting with Thranduil by the long table and enjoying the delicious dinner, listening to the music playing and making plans about your upcoming wedding. Before the meal, you were looking through the album featuring variations of cakes, the one which included so many propositions that it was hard to pick at least five better than the others. You had a feeling that the preparations will take much longer than you previously thought, but the vision of marrying your fiancé was more than appealing.

“I’m afraid to even start a conversation about the decorations,” Thranduil added. “Perhaps it’d be wiser to simply hire someone to take care of it.”

“We’ll see. I don’t want anything to be missing on our special day.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll personally supervise the preparations.”

“That’s a relief.” You sighed dramatically. “Speaking of which, I have some good news for you. The earring, the one I was supposed to wear on the wedding, was found.”

Thranduil tilted his head to the side.

“Was it?”

“Yes. It was in the casket, just where I left it.”

“I’m glad then.” He smiled genuinely. “It would be a shame if I had to buy you multiple new pairs, just in case they got lost also.”

You giggled at that statement, knowing that he was capable of doing this just to make sure that nothing could interrupt your special day. Sometimes, you were starting to think that it was him who was more nervous about the whole act than you, even though he managed to hide it well most of the time.

Taking a sip of your tea, you eventually decided to not tell him about the last thing which seemed to be missing. There was no need to worry him, especially since you were certain that this one will not be found anytime soon. Your insecurity was, after all, the last thing which you wanted back, and the gentle smile of the lady in portrait ensured you that there was nothing to be uncertain about, not in the house, nor about the love of your future husband.

[lokihzra]

Brother

Summary: Loki x avengers au, idk man Loki isn’t dead, he missed Thor, nobody trusts him, Tony and Banner feel bad, Loki is slightly losing it but won’t tell anyone

“Loki!” Thor hears Thanos growl as he picks himself off the ground, Rogers is on the ground beside Thanos, Loki holding the gauntlet, if it weren’t for the purple kool-aid man yelling his name Thor would swear he’s dreaming “drop-“ Thanos starts to growl again, starting to stand “lovely to see you again but i must be going now” Lokis smirks before disappearing in a green light. Thor feels his knees wanting to give out but he doesn’t let them “where is he” Thanos growls grabbing Thor by his throat and lifting him off the ground “i., dont, know” Thor wheezes out trying breathe better. “here” he hears his brothers voice to his right, so faint he barely heard it “snap now” Loki states and he looks over to see Loki standing beside banner as the latter screams in pain as he veins light up different colours and then Thanos drops him, he wheezes, catching his breath as he watches Thanos running over to them and without a thought he throws stormbreaker at him and the overgrown eggplant trips over it as Loki holds his palms out and spreads them apart. Thor stops getting up as he sees a green barrier surround his brother and Banner. “Bruce!” Loki spins around to face the man in his hulk form and he replies with a snap. For some reason Loki expects himself to fade away, like ash but he opens his eyes to all of Thanos’ men, ships and the man himself slowly dissolving into thin air. He lets the barrier down watching as the man that tortured and controlled him weakly walked over to a pile of rubble and takes a seat on it “good to see you again reindeer games” Tony pants from a couple feet away before he lays back down exhausted I did it.

“How the hell are you here?!” Natasha threatens sitting on top of Loki and holding a knife to his throat “brother, help please” he looks at Thor who’s still shocked standing still not saying anything “shut up” she snarls pressing the knife harder into his throat, now if it wasn’t his own dagger he wouldn’t be scared “let me up and i’ll tell you all everything” he stares her directly in the eyes hoping that she can see that he’s being honest for once in his life, after a second of glaring she hesitantly removes the knife and stands,never stopping her glare. He lets out a sigh before getting up “did you all really think it would be that easy for me to die?” he asks “well he did see your dead body” clint says obviously disappointed while pointing at Thor, he notices his brother still never moved “brother?” he tries to get his attention ignoring everyones eyes on him, doesnt work “brother” Thor doesnt respond and Loki lets out a mix of a groan and a sigh “can you smack him or something?” he asks Bruce and the man frowns “he was kicking your ass on Sakaar don’t worry about it” Bruce’s mouth moves up and down in surprise before finally saying “you’re Ragnarok Loki?” and he frowns “you’re the Loki that fought and died for his people, not the 2012 Loki that was trying to take over New York” Bruce simply says “god you guys are slow” Natasha sighs before turning and punching Thor in the face, it does the trick but doesn’t hurt him which kinda hurts Nat’s ego “i saw you die” Thor says offended and Loki smirks “so you’ve said before” his smile drops and he sighs going to sit on the couch, Thor, Banner and Tony following right away “so i actually did die but since Hela also died, the names in Hells book wouldnt apply, basically Hell was closed until it found a new owner, there was no other place for me to go but reincarnation, took 5 damn years for my body to regenerate though” he smiles happily “then where will Thanos go” Nat asks and Loki can hear the fear in her voice “oh he’s going to Hell” Loki nods smiling harder “i thought you just said Hell’s closed” Tony frowns taking a sip of his drink “not anymore” he takes Tonys drink and downs it in one gulp ignoring the mans offended look instead focusing on Peter i think that’s his name as he asks “then whos the new owner, or ruler?” He’s sitting with his arms crossed on the armrest of the chair that Doctor Strange is in “me” Loki smirks looking directly at Doctor Strange showing that i am completely unfazed by your suspicion of me so stop glaring “wait why’d you show up after the snap?” Tony says taking a seat again with a new drink and Loki barely stops himself from flinching when did he get up? “my soul was stuck in the soul stone so when you snapped my soul took that opportunity to reunite with my body and then I had to become the ruler of Hell so i took a bit longer than everyone else” 

“can we trust you?” Steve asks standing beside peter and doctor strange 

“No you cant, i saved the planet for nothing” Loki states sarcastically he then sighs becoming serious “i’ll admit it, i was under mind control when i tried to take over new york but i knew what i was doing, i couldnt say anything because thanos and his people had a psychic connection with me” he looks at Thor knowing he remembers the fight on Stark Tower but he flinched when stark places something around his wrists “this will disable your magic and shock you if you try and leave the building, just until we trust you” Stark adds on when he sees Loki tense “in the meantime you can train people” Stark gets up and downs his drink placing the cup in the sink “i’ll have FRIDAY and Happy make up your room” and Stark walks out almost everyone follows behind him excluding Natasha, Banner,Wanda and Thor. “you so much as act suspicious and i’ll kill you”  Nat snarls

“you think you can win against me?” Loki smirks looking up from the little silver bracelets around his wrists “i got you down 10 minutes ago” she smiles and Loki loves that the smug look on her face will be gone soon

“i don’t favour hitting girls” he leans back placing an arm over the back of the couch and smirks when Natasha gets up and leaves

“what the hell is there to do around here?” he asks “can’t use my magic so what can i do?” he looks to Thor  but his brother still looks kind of shocked   ”it’s no fair putting me up against you if you can bend yourself at 90 degrees” Natasha pants as Loki holds out a hand for her “your enemies don’t care what’s fair” she takes it as he pulls her up with ease “to them it’s simply an advantage” she frowns at him while raising her fists and getting back into a fighting stance and without hesitation she throwing punches faster than a storm but Loki has no problem dodging them. As he dodges one he grabs her arm and moves so that hes standing beside her, her arm straight out and pressed against his chest he pushes down on her chest at the same time that he kicks her legs out from under her but before she can hit the ground he moves his left hand to the back of her head saving her from smacking it into the floor i don’t know how weak these mortals are.He lets go leaving her on the ground panting once again “you’re not skilled enough for me to train” he states walking over to a boxing ring and sitting on the edge “is that a challenge?” she raises her brow easily standing up with confidence “no, it’s a fact” Loki says seriously and Tony barges in “he’s right Cruella DeVille” clearly a jab at her platinum blonde and auburn hair, he points towards the door “can you take off please? i have to talk to Rock of Ages alone” Tony whispers once hes close enough to Natasha and she glares at Loki not wanting to leave him alone with Tony but does as asked.  

“you look weird in normal clothes” Tony states once Natasha’s gone studying his grey sweater, black sweatpants and green t-shirt peeking out from under the sweater “you came to talk about my clothes?” Loki asks but Tony dismisses him waving his hands “no no no no” he places his hands in his pockets “just came to warn you that if you so much as act suspicious” he points towards the ceiling “i’ve asked FRIDAY to crank the heat up in whatever room you’re in until you pass out” and in response Loki raises his wrists looking to the silver bracelets “lucky i cant do anything then” Tony smirks “trust is a two way street Diva, i’m willing to trust you so you gotta give us something” he paces a bit “i let you snap these on me without killing you” he raises a wrist again “if i recall, if it weren’t for me you would be dead right now” Loki leans back against the boxing rings barrier and smirks a bit at the shock on Tonys face “what?” he asks after a second “you’re almighty Doctor Strange didn’t tell you?” Loki leans forward resting his elbows on his knees and for a second Tony can see 2012 Loki “you were supposed to snap” Loki states lowly and Tony feels numb.

“how did you know?” Doctor Strange directs at Loki who’s sitting calmly on the couch despite the chaos in the room but Tony interrupts “ah, don’t try and change the subject Bonnie Bennett” Doctor Strange frowns in confusion obviously not knowing who that is “you knew i was going to die thats why you gave Thanos the time stone?” Tony asks and states at the same time “Loki was already dead, you were the last hope” Strange says solemnly and it pisses Tony off “don’t try and act like you feel guilty, you would do anything if it meant saving the planet including letting my daughter grow up without a father” Strange didn’t know what to say because he couldn’t deny it, so instead he turned to Loki who still sat calmly on the couch “how did you know?” he asks no emotion and Loki leans forward slightly eyeing him “how long have you been studying Mystic Arts?” Strange looks up in thought and quickly answers “almost 4 years now” Loki looks disappointed like he expected longer “i’ve been studying every single form of magic for over a thousand years, you really think i haven’t mastered prophecy? my mother was the goddess of prophecy” he leans back relaxing and he looks surprised when Thor speaks to him, they haven’t really talked since he got back “mother taught you prophecy? Loki nods with an “mhmm” 

“Mother” Thor asked walking up to his mother who sat on the bench on a balcony “Why do people hate Loki?” he asks taking a seat beside her, Thor was a curious kid “i don’t think they hate him they’re just-” she paused looking out towards the scenery of Asgard while thinking “biased” and Thor looks at her in pure confusion “well my dear son, It is taught that men are meant to fight, that they’re supposed to be strong and at the head of battle, but your brother fights differently, he doesnt go for throwing punches, he prefers things to be quick because he doesn’t like fighting that much so he uses magic as an advantage” she says looking her teen son in the eye “and because of that people think he’s weak or scared but you know what I think” she asks and Thors anger turns back to curiosity “what” he smiles widely making Frigga smile too “I think your brother can be the best fighter there is, i think he can be a healer, a sorcerer and that’s what makes him special, thats what makes people fear and loathe him”

“I only use it when needed” Loki looks at him and Thor tries to hide the fact that he zoned out by trying to make it look like he was thinking “the sun will shine on us again” and Loki doesn’t look ashamed or mad he simply smirks with a nod “all of you are needed for that” Loki looks at everyone in the room “so where are the Gaurdians?” Loki ignores Thors frown because Loki shouldn’t know about them and Steve shakes his head with his arms crossed obviously weary of Loki “we don’t know” Tony walks out “they went to find Flash Gordons woman” Natasha rolls her eyes “can’t you ask that Bifrost keeper of yours if he can see them?” she questions and Scott budges in “yeah lets just go to the new Asgard and ask” he says enthusiastically “Heimdall is dead” Loki and Thor say at the same time and Loki frowns at it “Thanos killed him for sending Banner back when Thanos destroyed our ship” he gets up and heads into the connecting kitchen behind the couch Loki is on “so we have no way of finding them” he says grabbing a beer out of the fridge and Loki wants to fucking stab him “Heimdall wanted me to be his successor awhile ago” Loki says turning to face Thor and he sees his brother almost spit out his beer i wish he did “taught me how to see people but im not as good as him, i don’t know if i could see them considering they could be anywhere” Thor takes another swig of his beer “well practice for a couple days” he says nonchalantly and walks away 

“he’s probably just not used to you being here after 5 years” he hears Tony behind him and senses how close he is, he spins around catching Tony’s hand before the man can pat his back in comfort “try and touch me again” Loki snarls squeezing Tonys hand so tight the man cant help but groan lightly “and i’ll break all 14 knuckles in your hand” Loki stands up and let’s go of Tony hand harshly walking out and leaving everyone stunned he was making such good progress “im gonna kill him” Natasha says happily going to follow after him but of course Steve has to stop her “even without magic he’s stronger than us” Nastasha frowns at him he looks at Tony still rubbing his left hand in pain “Thor crushed your suit with his bare hands, I imagine Loki can snap those bracelets off like nothing, we shouldn’t push him” 

The next day Loki sat quietly on the couch reading a book, Thor at the other end, Peter sitting in an armchair playing with a colourful cube and Bruce in the other writing things down in a notebook, “hey i’ve always wondered” Peter says and Loki looks up to see him looking right at him and Thor “Asgardians dont speak english so how can we communicate?” he fiddles with the colourful cube in his hands waiting for an answer “it’s called an AllSpeak, it allows Asgardians to speak any and every language” Loki says still flipping through his book he resists flinching when stark bursts through the door with a clap a group of people following in behind him “ok meeting in session” he says with a smile “cap please stop fucking around with mewmew we know you’re worthy” steve stops and drops mjolnir before anyone can see him and gets serious “its mjolnir” Thor retorts and Tony brushes him off “we got a signal on Rockets ship, they got here about 20 minutes ago so they should be here soon” Natasha sits down beside Loki careful not to touch him “and,Peter” the teen straightens up in his seat “Loki is going to train you” Loki doesn’t react but he hears the kid let out a nervous laugh “im just a kid i can’t win against a god” Loki can see Peter point at him out of the corner of his eye and he resists the urge to snap his wrist nobody here is going to hurt you, you are fine, you are safe “you’re the only other person that can compare to his agility and flexibility, not to mention you got spidey sense” Peter raises his eyebrows looking at Steve like he’s lost it “he’s a sorcerer, surely he can block me from sensing him” Loki smirks and closes his eyes concentrating, drowning out the  conversation and once he thinks he’s got it he whips his book at Peter and the teen catches it a split second before it hits him, letting out a breath that he held “Loki!” Thor says like he’s scolding a child “guess i can’t block you out” he holds out a hand towards Peter and he looks confused “the book?” and Peters face drops in realization before throwing the book back to Loki “what if you could block him out?” Steve says and Loki can hear the anger “then a book would have hit him in the face” Loki states going back to reading “someones coming” Peter states looking towards the door the second he feels the hairs on his neck stand up “oh it’s probably the Gaurdians” Tony says sitting beside Peter and he’s right when the door busts open 2014 Gamora, Nebula, Drax, Rocket, Mantis, Quill and Groot walk in “My friends” Thor gets up happily to walk over to them and Loki hides his jealousy, Thors been out of it for days so he turns to see who got his bubbly brother bubbly again and then Loki couldnt breathe, he felt like mjolnir was sitting on his chest when the hammer was clearly nowhere near him, he could barely hear, he felt like he was being held underwater “you’ve heard of my brother” he hears Thor through the drowning in his ears and no matter how much Loki wants to run he cant panicking, trying to swim back to the surface, screaming for help but nothing comes, “Loki?” Gamora says like she couldn’t believe her eyes, she couldnt believe he was alive is the first thing in Lokis mind “you know him?” Thor turns to Gamora frowning he feels his nerves turn to ice, ironic since he’s a Frost Giant “my father made me torture him” Gamora says quietly and Loki can hear and feel her remorse but that isnt enough. That doesnt make up for the 547 days that he was tortured, the 547 days he begged for his brother and mother, the 547 days that he thought he was safe only to be met with Thanos and Gamora again and again, the 547 days he tried to keep himself together, the 500 days that he kept his pride together, the 47 days that he wished for death, the 47 days that he prayed to any God that it would be over soon it doesnt make up for the 547 days of pure agony and suffering, filled with illusions, blood, broken promises and so much pain. 

He must’ve froze in shock because Bruce snaps him out of it “Loki? hey?” Loki looks at Bruce trying to control his breathing then back to Gamora, Nebula and Thor, he couldn’t do it. He snapped the bracelet off his left wrist like glass, Natasha grabbed his wrist trying to stop him but he twisted her wrist causing her to fall to the floor and before anyone else could get close enough the second bracelet was gone and so was he. “what the fuck just happened” Natasha said sitting up on the floor “Thor go check your brothers room” Tony points at him Thor looks between him and Gamora obviously trying to process everything “go!” Tony yells and finally Thor listens ignoring his heartbeat in his ears “Loki wouldn’t be in his room” Steve spits “we gotta check the perimeter, ask Valkyrie to check around Asg-“ 

“No, Loki wants us to trust him and if that’s true then he’ll be in his room” Tony emphasizes the last part walking out past everyone to the elevator “FRIDAY check for Loki on the cameras, get back to me as soon as you find him” He doesnt look at anyone as the elevator doors close “Yes boss” FRIDAY says automatically.

continuing on AO3

[readyplayerhobi]

Peppermint | 01

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, future light angst

; Word Count: 10.6k

; Synopsis: Achieving your dream job is something that very people manage to do, which is why you’re all the more happier when you land a job on the film team at Poppin’ Culture; the biggest pop culture website, blog and YouTube channel around. What you don’t expect however, is to fall for the exceptionally shy and awkward colleague who is not even remotely your type. Or is he?

; A/N: This is just what I’ve been writing to try and get back into the swing of things. It’s just...light and fun. Was supposed to be a one shot but it’s getting long and it feels like a good place to end as a first part! Please send me thoughts, comments and encouragements as it’s a struggle to write lately ;-;

01 ; 02

-

“And this is our main office. It’s open plan, as you can see so I hope that doesn’t bother you too much. We’ve found it works better to just throw ideas out in the open or to just get reactions so feel free to shout out if you need something. Everyone’s very friendly,” Seokjin smiles at you brightly, his thick lips turning up and making his eyes sparkle behind his glasses as he leads you into the wide open space. “And this is your desk. Feel free to decorate it however you want. Nothing will beat the car wreck that’s happening on Jimin’s desk.”

“Hey! This is artistic mess. Everything has a place and there is a place for everything.” The bubblegum pink haired man in question half stands, a finger pointing threateningly while his pearly white teeth peek out from beneath plush pink lips. You can’t help but smile, as his slim frame and cute cheeks make him look distinctively non-threatening and ruin any hope he has of convincing you otherwise.

It could also be the fact he looks like a hipster from Seattle with the thick, black plastic frames delicately placed on his nose and the retro 80s film shirt with an open black and white plaid shirt over the top. Still...he’s rather pretty and you wonder momentarily if you’ve somehow entered another dimension with astonishingly beautiful people.

Either that, or you’ve walked into the set of some reality TV show but you’re not quite willing to break the Matrix programming just yet.

Seokjin snorts and rolls his eyes, lifting a ring laden hand to brush his black hair out of them. It’s hindered slightly by the tan beanie on his head and you’re momentarily distracted once more by his impressive frame. The white shirt with the Jaws film poster on it stretches rather enticingly over his broad shoulders while his black, ripped jeans are snugly secured with a leather belt that has a Superman belt buckle.

Honestly, how were you meant to work in this place?

He’d already introduced you to Namjoon, the creator of Poppin’ Culture who oversaw all aspects of his slowly booming media empire along with Namjoon’s wife, Chaeyoung. She oversaw the HR aspect of everything and had been your first point of call before Seokjin had come down to retrieve you upon getting the call that you had arrived.

Seokjin is the editor of the Poppin’ Culture website, which is the big daddy of the whole enterprise. It had originally started 10 years ago in Namjoon’s university bedroom apparently, just posting reviews of retro films and any new films that came out.

A decade later and it was the biggest source of pop culture news, blogs and entertainment in the Western hemisphere. The website scores over 250,000 hits a day with the blogs averaging a pretty healthy number too and the YouTube channels generating a steady enough income to keep a small team afloat with ease.

His sheer love of all things cultural meant that Poppin’ Culture had expanded far beyond its original remit of film and now had something for everyone. There was the film blog, the gaming blog, the music blog, the television blog and even the book blog. And you’d heard rumours of them branching into sports with talk of a fighting blog and channel appearing soon which would be interesting.

Sports were a whole other thing in the world of things people obsess over.

Either way, you’d been rather desperate to get a job here when the opening had appeared on the job listings website for a new in house content writer. When you’d found out that you’d got it, you were pretty sure that you’d almost deafened Sunmi with your screams of excitement.

As a film major with an English literature minor, it was perhaps the dream job to combine both of your loves together and work with people who were just as enthusiastic about the world of film as you were. Your friends and family had long since grown bored of how you picked apart the latest films or their trailers, but now you would have an audience of thousands that would not only be receptive to it, but interested too.

In your earlier meeting with Namjoon and Seokjin, they’d laid out your responsibilities for you pretty clearly. Given that you were in your six month probation period, you would be expected to create two blog articles a week with the possibility of writing a video script if it was approved by the video team.

Two articles may not sound a lot, but you’d already been informed that you would also likely have to do some indepth research into the topics to provide factual information, along with making sure it wasn’t something that had been done before. Not only this, but you would be expected to be constantly scouring the internet to find new topics of interest and trying to catch the latest leaks before they even happened.

While you’d been hired for the film team, you’d been told that most people tended to dip into other areas to help out or if they had some particular interest in it. As such, you could be expected to possibly be asked to find out the Top 10 Facts About The NES or 15 Things You Never Knew About Taylor Swift or something.

Wasn’t the most scintillating of things to you, but you were willing to branch out and help if necessary. It was a small team and you understand that sometimes you’d need to pitch in when it was required of you, which in turn meant you knew that you could rely on the same help.

“Jimin is our music guy. He’s the one who usually writes the music blogs and videos but he also does the gaming stuff sometimes. Also has a regular book blog where he reviews obscure international books because that’s his thing.” Seokjin says, rolling his eyes as he leans against the desk.

Jimin’s desk is littered with piles of CD cases - who even uses CDs anymore? - along with three different pairs of headphones. He also has a ton of Funko Pop! Vinyl figures that you recognise to be musicians along with a set of Assassin’s Creed characters. You recognise them because Sunmi’s ex-boyfriend had them too.

“Really? You’re going to come into my space, and ruin my time while insulting me? Am I going to wake up tomorrow morning to find you shitting on my lawn too?” Jimin slumps back in his chair, pulling a pair of pink and white headphones over his head to rest around his neck while eyeing the taller man with narrowed eyes.

“You live on the top floor of an apartment building ‘Min. What am I? A wizard?”

“I wish. Maybe you’d wingardium leviosa your ass off my damn desk.” He grumbles, nodding his head at you. “Have you ever read In The Miso Soup by Ryu Murakami?”

The question is so sudden that you’re left standing with wide eyes, shaking your head slowly. You’d not read a lot of translated work in college, though you were hoping to change that. Jimin sighs and slumps in his seat, clicking on his mouse a few times.

“Fucking weird dude. Still not entirely sure what went on it.”

Before you can even respond, Seokjin is leading you over to the desk behind Jimin. This desk is even messier, only you really can see the artistic mess here. It’s covered in pencil sketches that are stacked haphazardly while a high tech looking electronic drawing pad takes up most of the space with even the keyboard pushed away.

The guy sat comfortably in the green and black gaming chair has a black beanie on his head too, only he has platinum blonde hair that covers his eyes. And what pretty eyes they are when he looks up at you; as if someone has reached up into the sky and plucked two of the brightest, shiniest stars and placed them directly onto him.

“Oh, hey. I’m Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. I’m the graphic designer here...with a side passion of actual drawing obviously. I mostly use Photoshop but I like to get a bit hands on.” He talks rapidly, his voice quite deep but soft. Pausing, he bites on the black lip ring embedded in the right side of his lower lip before sitting back.

The vibrant and colourful tattoos that run up and down his arms do nothing to hide the obvious fit physique he has and you find yourself dragging your eyes away from that ridiculously broad chest. He’s only wearing a black shirt but my god.

Seokjin lets you both talk for a little, discovering that if you need anything made graphics wise then to let Jungkook know. Apparently he’s the head designer and has two more people under him; Jennie who deals with a lot of designing and Soyeon who handles their website and online shop.

You’re then introduced to Yoongi who is in charge of sound for the videos. He’s pretty quiet but friendly and bright, secluded away in the corner of the office with a soundboard in front of him, while his co-worker Lisa, a video editor, is entirely the opposite. They’re both sat on the same bank of desks, and the difference between Yoongi’s monochromatic desk and Lisa’s bubblegum pop explosion is almost amusing.

The video game team was made of Miyeon, Yugyeom and Baekhyun who all took up the corner on the opposite end of the office to you. You weren’t a huge gamer, but apparently the video game side of Poppin’ Culture was one of the most popular and profitable so you could understand why they had the largest team compared to the others.

Your desk is opposite Jimin’s, allowing you a view of him if you look to your right and it looks sparse compared to everyone else’s. The guy behind you is Taehyung and you’re pleased to discover that he’s friendly and warm with a bright box smile that makes you feel at home instantly.

Taehyung is the other content creator on the film team and someone that you’ll be working closely with, though apparently he also works with Jimin on music. From the short conversation you have with him, it seems that Taehyung mainly specialises in foreign film and you surmise that you’ll be left with most of the more mainstream options with the Oscar bait films being split between you both.

He seems enigmatic enough, with the white ribbon wrapped around his neck and billowing white button up shirt that ends with a pair of baggy, tan trousers. He’s not wearing any shoes, or socks, and you wonder if that’s a violation of something somewhere but no one seems to be saying anything.

His entire desk is full of various plants, artistic photographs in elegant frames and beautiful old film posters in miniature form. A photo of a black and tan Pomeranian is eagerly introduced to you as Yeontan, his dog and you can’t help but laugh at how excited he is to show off his lil pup.

But perhaps not as excited as you when you discover that Friday’s are ‘Bring Your Dog To Work’ day. Apparently Taehyung, Yoongi and Jennie all bring their dogs and it usually ends up just being people playing with them.

Yep, definitely the best workplace already.

“Hey Hoseok, come here before you sit down.” Seokjin calls out to the late entry into the office before looking at you. “I’ll introduce you to our head video editor. He’s the one who usually helps with recording videos, then he’ll edit it all together. He works closely with Jungkook for graphics and if you write a script then he’ll work with you to see if you want anything extra added in like humourous cuts, edits and so forth. He’s got Lisa on his team and a guy who works part time, Taemin.”

The man in question almost shuffles forward, a delicate looking hand gripping the brown fabric strap of his shoulder bag tightly while he looks down at his scruffy, black Converse clad feet as Seokjin introduces you to him. He looks about the same height as Seokjin, though all you can see is a head of messy chestnut brown hair and black circular lens glasses that looks like they’re going to fall off his nose.

“Nice shirt.” You say with an encouraging smile, wondering why Hoseok looks like he’s trying to crawl through the floor mentally. He looks up at that with almost shockingly wide eyes and you almost groan out loud.

This place is blessed or cursed. You’re not sure which yet.

He’s wearing a faded Jurassic Park shirt, the famous logo sliced by ‘dinosaur’ claws, while a pair of ever so slightly baggy and ripped denim jeans are kept up by an oversized tan fabric belt, the end trailing down to his knee. A knit grey cardigan covers his arms and you find it oddly endearing how it’s slipping off one slim shoulder, obviously far too big for him.

The shoulder bag he’s carrying also has the Back to the Future logo on it and you point at it with a grin. “Great Scott! I like your bag too.” You point then at your own chest, your shirt emblazoned with the Back to the Future logo and frown as his eyes dart down before his cheeks flush bright red.

His obvious shyness just seems to make him more endearing to you, and you let out a quiet laugh. There’s an almost awkward silence for a moment as Hoseok just stands there, giving Seokjin tiny glances before he finally sighs and points to the desk behind yours. Hoseok almost bolts there, disappearing behind the iMac and you look back at Seokjin with a raised brow.

He kneels down so he’s closer, the music of the radio that’s blasting out 80s classics drowning out anything he might say to you. “Hoseok’s a good guy, he’s just a little socially awkward. A hard worker, and he’ll do anything you ask but...it’s a little hard to get him to open up. Keep trying though, he will occasionally have a full conversation with you and I keep trying to make sure he’s included so he doesn’t feel left out. Don’t take it personally, it’s just how he is.”

Nodding, you turn on your own iMac and wait for it to boot up before going through the process of getting everything ready for you to work. Given it’s your first day, Seokjin just gives you some simple tasks to go through to help familiarise yourself with their method of working before leaving you to your own devices.

It’s as you’re sat reading through the style guideline for the blog that you watch as Hoseok suddenly appears in the corner of your vision. He’s rolled over to the edge of his desk, hands flipping through the stacked letter tray there as he searches for something while he presses his lips together and blows his cheeks out. You can’t help but watch him with idle interest as he does so.

He’s definitely cute, in fact he’s more than cute. Hoseok is actually stunningly beautiful and from the side, you’re getting to see his arresting profile with ease. A strong jawline swoops in bold lines on his face while his nose is a straight slope with the gentlest turn at the end, his lips thin but full enough to look delightfully kissable as he pouts suddenly without thinking as the tiny frown of concentration causes his strong brows to fold in.

As he finds what he needs, you watch as he disappears back behind his screen before sighing quietly to yourself.

It’s probably not very moral, but you definitely had enough new material to keep your spank bank going for a good few months now. If nothing else, you should thank Namjoon for that.

-

“Did you watch Roma yet?” Taehyung asks, rolling his chair backwards until he appears in your vision. His wispy blonde hair lays straight on his forehead as he rests his hands behind his neck, letting his long sleeved blue sweater stretch across his torso. It’s unusually tight for someone who basically lives in baggy clothes; you’re pretty sure he’s even worn his pyjamas once.

Over the last three months of you working at Poppin’ Culture, you’d understandably grown close with Taehyung as you’d bonded intensely over your love of film. It turns out he was also a film major with a photography minor, meaning he was exceptionally invested in the artsy films or just films with great cinematography.

You’d already been subjected to two passion filled rants of his about Mad Max: Fury Road and Blade Runner 2049 as being prime examples of great cinematography in big budget cinema. It was okay though, as you’d already chewed off his ear about why you thought Aliens was one of the best sequels ever made in history and he’d listened with interest.

There was nothing better than someone who was willing to indulge in your long winded talks about your favourite films; from cult classics to obscure favourites to Hollywood blockbusters. Your rapport with him was so good in fact, that Seokjin had had you do a test video with him to see how well you worked in front of the camera.

The results must have been positive as you’d been given a weekly film podcast with Taehyung that talked about the week’s releases along with any news in the film world. If there was time then you both would regale viewers with your favourite films and analyse them.

So far, it was doing pretty well and you were pleased with the numbers it was pulling in. Not to mention that people seemed to like your inclusion into the videos, which was why you’d ended up in a few other videos around music or even gaming just to voice over them. Taehyung had obviously been a hit.

He had a face for the camera and you’d already jokingly suggested in many a team meeting that they should make merchandise with just his face on it. His little fan club even named themselves ‘Taes Baes’.

“No, I haven’t had chance yet. I’ve been watching The Sinner, I’ve only got like two episodes left but I’ll check it out at some point! Alfonso Cuarón makes such good films; Gravity is still amazing and I’m still mind boggled at the sheer complexity of how that must have been to film with all the CGI they had to do but I feel like Roma looks a little more stripped down.”

Taehyung is nodding slowly, biting his lip almost absentmindedly as he listens to you. “Gravity is great, but you should definitely check out Children of Men. Much better, but Y Tu Mamá También is also phenomenal if you don’t mind the sexual scenes. But yeah, watch Roma. Definitely going to be a bit hit with the awards season and I can see him getting Best Director at the Oscars.”

“Really? It wouldn’t surprise me.” You muse, leaning back in your own chair and crossing your legs as you watch him now.

“Yep. And if he does win, then that’ll be his second Best Director win and it will also mean that Mexican directors have won five out of the last six. They’re killing the Oscars game lately. I still wish Barry Jenkins had won for Moonlight...way better than La La Land.” He sighs wistfully before nodding at your computer screen inquisitively, the beginnings of your latest blog post on the screen.

“Oh, I’m writing why I think Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse deserves the Best Animation at the Oscars. I liked The Incredibles and Ralph but if they win over the magnificence of Spider-Man then I will flip this table.” Pointing to your desk jokingly, Taehyung giggles sweetly.

Your desk has also changed over the last few months as well. A few cute Funko figures of your favourite Star Wars characters have popped up along with one or two more stylised figurines like your Xenomorph alien. Along with that, you’ve invested in some funky letter trays and pots to just bring some brightness to portray your personality a little more.

“I’ve not watched it yet. I know, feel free to pinch my arm. Hoseok has watched it though, he mentioned it the other day. Hey Hoseok, come here bro.” He calls out loudly, turning slightly to watch for the quiet man who spends his days on the computer behind yours.

Slowly, and adorably you might add, Hoseok’s meek face peers around the side of both his and your monitors as he stares owlishly at Taehyung beneath those outdated glasses. You’d say they were ugly, and they were, but he seemed to pull them off.

His hair is hidden today beneath a sand coloured beanie, leaving his entire face exposed and you coo softly at his tiny folded ears. It wasn’t something you’d noticed till Jimin had one day pointed over to the video editor, whispering words of adoration to you as he stared a little moon-eyed and lamented how his own ears didn’t look that cute.

It was beyond endearing, along with the slight pout his lips were pursed in. He probably hadn’t been listening to your conversation and so had no idea what was going on.

You’d noticed that Hoseok either kept an earphone in at all times or covered them with over-ear headphones when he wanted to work hard and not be disturbed. He certainly wasn’t rude but he definitely didn’t seem to be hugely confident in making conversations with people.

That didn’t stop people from trying to include him though, and you got the definite sense that everyone in the office adored Jung Hoseok and simultaneously wanted to hug him and protect him. You certainly did, and you were quite pleased that no one bullied him.

He, unfortunately, had the demeanour that would attract the attention of assholes but Seokjin and Namjoon ran a tight ship here. You did kind of wish that he got included in more outside events though.

“S-sorry. W-wh-what?” His voice is soft, the perfect mix of deep and high as he stutters out a response to Taehyung. The long sleeved shirt he’s wearing is almost salmon pink and has some generic looking cartoon on the front. It looks warm, and you find yourself lamenting the fact that you hadn’t brought a cardigan with you today.

“Spider-Man, the new one. You said to Jungkook that you’d watched it right?” There’s a moment of hesitation as Hoseok’s eyes flick to you before he’s nodding slowly. Almost immediately you grin brightly, not noticing the way that Hoseok pauses with his breath caught before his shoulders shift up to his ears.

“Oh my god, wasn’t it so good? The animation is just beautiful, it makes me want to scream. Like those cityscape shots? Could easily be mistaken for a photo if you just showed someone it. And the perfect blending of the different art styles of the Spider-People and god the music was so good. Miles is amazing and if it doesn’t win then I’m gonna Hulk out,” You pause and look at Taehyung who’s smirking in amusement. “Seriously, I don’t even know how to describe the animation. Think 3D...but not. You get me, right Hoseok?”

Hoseok’s eyes go astonishingly wide once more as you question and his mouth opens and closes a few times as he struggles to find an answer for you. He just settles for nodding quickly, reaching up to pull his beanie off and sort out his hair.

The chestnut locks have gone a bit wild under his hat and you have to bite your lip to stop laughing at how it goes all over the place, though another part of you wants to aww at how cute he looks.

“One day Hoseok, one day I’ll get you to spout poetic bullshit about a film you love.” You tease lightly, tapping at your gel wrist rest that lays alongside your keyboard to ease the pressure on your wrists as you type. He swallows audibly, causing you to laugh out loud while Taehyung chuckles and shakes his head.

“Hoseok has fucking terrible film taste. He thinks Batman v Superman was actually good.” Jungkook calls out and you turn to look at the graphic designer. He’s reclining in his chair, hands over his stomach with an ankle hooked over his knee while he observes the scene on the other side of the office.

Jimin is in the exact same position behind him while he nods his head sagely and you gasp in horror, a hand to your chest as you look back at Hoseok. “Say it isn’t so Hoseok.”

The man in question looks like he wants to sink through the floor as he gives a meagre shrug. Your wail of horror has him cringing while everyone else in the office sniggers and Taehyung pats your back in consolation.

“This can’t be. Why? Is it because your mom is named Martha too?” Jungkook lets out a bark of laughter at that while Jimin creases, folding over in his chair as his forehead rests against his knees from the force of his laugh.

Hoseok attempts to speak a few more times before he frowns deeply, taking a deep breath and shaking his head. “N-no. That was d-d-dumb. I just like Batman. I-i-it’s not my favourite f-f-film but it’s not terrible.”

You lean back and stare at him, raising a brow slowly as you narrow at your eyes at him. “What is your favourite film then?”

This is probably the most you’ve talked to Hoseok in the whole three months about non-job related work. You’re actually surprised he’s engaging this far, and you study him closely to make sure he doesn’t look uncomfortable or unhappy. The last thing you want is him to get upset.

But he doesn’t back down from your question, instead staring at something on his desk intently before looking back at you. You almost lean back in reaction, the intensity of his gaze far stronger than you’d expected and you’re surprised to feel a slight stirring of sexual lust for him. While you’d always acknowledge he was handsome - wasn’t everyone in this place? - you’d never quite seen Hoseok in a ‘oh holy cow’ light until right now.

“I-I-I don’t have one. B-b-but I like Jurassic Park and Blade Runner. And the Godfather. Oh, and Big Hero 6.” He adds as an afterthought, and you feel oddly proud that he didn’t stutter throughout the rest of the conversation. It was obviously just a nerves thing, but you kind of hope that he’ll get a bit bolder if you keep trying with him.

“Good choices. Solid. Not pretentious like the avant garde master here. He probably watches his porn in French black and white too.” A casual thumb thrown in Taehyung’s direction gets you the finger in response.

“It’s black and white softcore German, you heathen. No one does the group sex quite as good. The camera angles when there’s so many bodies.” He kisses the tips of his fingers before blowing them in the air, causing you to stare at him with a slightly grossed out face.

Looking at Jimin, you shake your head. “You know, I’ve only known the two of you for three months now. But I can easily see how you started dating. You with your weird music and books and Taehyung with your pretentious films.”

Taehyung gasps theatrically before smiling, fully aware that you’re joking around with him. Jimin on the other hand, snorts loudly and sticks his tongue out at you. “Hey, there’s nothing weird about my music choices. And what the hell. You’ve been listening to Billie Eilish non-stop lately according to your Spotify. And while she’s incredibly talented, I wish she’d lighten up a little.”

Turning to look at the cotton candy haired guy, though his hair was mostly hidden today by a black ball cap, you raise an eyebrow slowly. “Firstly, don’t insult Billie like that! Her songs are beautiful and soothe my soul. And also, this coming from the guy who listens to Morrissey. Unironically, I might add. Your opinion is invalid in this conversation.”

“...You know what. I can't even argue that. You right.” Jimin shrugs in defeat and sits back while Taehyung makes consoling noises at his boyfriend from his seat.

The delicate snort from behind your monitor makes your eyes widen, causing you to shift over slightly to watch Hoseok as he giggles. His white teeth peek out at you as he bites on his lower lip to try and contain his laugh.

And from how pretty and sweet it sounded, you wish he wouldn’t. The soft noises he lets out are oddly infectious, causing you to laugh in turn with a pretty dopey expression on your face and making you completely oblivious to the sly look Jimin and Taehyung are sharing.

“You love Imagine Dragons too, right? Hoseok listens to them all the time.” Taehyung says helpfully, gesturing with his chin towards the man behind your monitor.

Spinning back, you look at Hoseok with a happy grin and clap your hands together excitedly. “Oh my god, yes! I’m in love with Bad Liar right now, and Zero is so fun. I think Jimin keeps laughing at me for dancing in my seat.”

Hoseok doesn’t respond to you properly though, just nodding his head and smiling slightly as you playfully glare at the slim man across the office.

“On the subject of dating though...Hoseok. Have you ever had a girlfriend before? Or boyfriend, if that’s your thing.” Jimin asks, his tone not even slightly sly and you look at him in surprise. If he was trying to not be obvious, then he was being about as subtle as the Seattle Space Needle. Surely they’d already know this right?

As far as you’ve gathered, Jimin has been at Poppin’ Culture for four years and Taehyung for three. The two had started dating two years ago and despite your teasing, you were already confident that they were two of the cutest couples you’d ever seen.

Hoseok though, had apparently been with the company for years. He’d gone to college with Namjoon, Chaeyoung and Seokjin and had a film production degree. Namjoon had started Poppin’ Culture when he was 19, in his second year, and Hoseok had come on board once they’d branched out to a YouTube channel.

Still, you’re surprised by the way Hoseok’s cheeks go bright red and his eyes dart to you for a moment before he’s looking down at his desk once more. A wet tongue peeks out of his mouth quickly as he licks along his lips to wetten them, coughing to clear his throat before he’s looking back up at Jimin with a frown.

“Would you like the name of my e-e-ex-girlfriend? I’m s-s-socially awkward, not inept.” You suck your lower lip between your teeth as you look at Jimin with a ‘wtf’ look. As nice as he was, he was a bit blunt and you felt that situation could have probably done with a little more tactful handling. Hoseok looked like he could fry an egg on his cheeks and Jimin winces at the glare both Taehyung and you give him.

“Sorry man. I was out of line. I didn’t mean to insult you.” The apology is sincere in tone, with Jimin ducking his head and turning back to his work. You watch carefully as Hoseok eyes the younger man before letting out a quiet sigh and nodding his acceptance.

The atmosphere is slightly awkward now, and you’re desperate to make Hoseok less uncomfortable which is why you find yourself blurting out words you immediately want to swallow back up. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve not had a boyfriend since I was 20 and I’ve not been laid in four years.”

Almost immediately your hand is slapping over your mouth as your eyes widen in horror, apologies falling from your lips like honey as your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Not only are Hoseok’s eyes resembling dinner plates, his jaw dropped open in shock, but so is just about everyone else’s in the office. Well, that’s certainly one way to make him feel better about himself you guess.

“I’m sorry for your loss. Everyone, we need to be careful with her. She’s going through some tough times. Only 26 and already looking at a life of non-sexual fulfilment.” Taehyung drones deeply, his voice faux-sincere and you glare at him while pushing his hand off your shoulder.

“I will delete your folder of obscure foreign films.” You hiss at him through narrowed eyes, causing him to burst out into laughter as his hand slaps his thigh in amusement.

“Oh god, you crack me up. I need to thank Seokjin for hiring you, seriously. God, get on with your Spider-Man boner before you accidentally reveal something else way too intimate for the workplace to know.” He snorts before rolling back to his own desk. The office thankfully goes back to normal after that, the low level of chatter competing with the soft sounds of today’s playlist.

Looking at your screen, you’re distracted momentarily by the sight of Hoseok still in view just around your monitor. He’s looking at you in that way people do when they’ve checked out, their brains focused on something else entirely and you watch him back in amusement until he realises.

Almost immediately he cringes, bowing his head slightly and giving an uncomfortable smile before sliding back out of view. Smiling, you shake your head and pop your headphones back into your ears as you get back to work.

You’re oddly pleased to see Hoseok stand up for himself bluntly, and you remind yourself not to baby him. He’s a grown man after all, older than you.

The flashing of your phone lets you see that you’ve got a new notification from Facebook, and you roll your eyes as you click on your screen to see what it is. What you see however has you slowly smiling as a flutter of butterflies take flight in your stomach and you tap accept eagerly.

You have a new friend request: Jung Hoseok

-

The next few weeks roll by quickly with Taehyung and you becoming inundated with awards season nominations, ceremonies and just general Oscar bait films. It had even resulted in a whole ‘Top 10 Oscar Bait Films’ video on the Poppin’ Culture Film YouTube channel which had proven remarkably popular, even spawning a sequel that was generated purely from user comments.

You’re actually surprised with just how much you continue to love your job, even with the sheer pressure of blog and video deadlines constantly breathing down your neck. And it doesn’t take you long to realise that it’s because of the people you work with who make working that overtime all the more sweeter.

Jimin is genuinely hilarious and when paired up with Jungkook he becomes hysterical. Lisa has easily become your female work best friend, with the two of you Skyping all the time on your work computers and soon venturing out into the world to go to dinners, concerts and the cinema while Taehyung is an incredibly hard working colleague who always keeps a close on eye on how you’re doing.

It’s genuinely one of the best places you’ve ever worked and you thank all your lucky stars that you’d been accepted because you were pretty sure that you were making some of the closest friends you could.

And then there was Hoseok.

Jung Hoseok still remained a mystery to you and you weren’t entirely sure why you so desperately wanted to figure him out. Or maybe not figure him out, because you kind of liked how shy and mysterious he is.

The rest of your colleagues have been pretty open books and you were pretty sure that you were on the verge of receiving daily updates on Jimin and Taehyung’s sex life - you were that close with the two. But you still knew almost nothing about Hoseok and it drove you wild.

What was even more annoying was the fact that only you were apparently bothered by it too. The others just shrugged and said that he’d always been quiet and introverted, so they just made it clear to him that they were there if he wanted to talk or make friends with them. Apparently he never went out on the workplace socials and he rarely talked to others via text or Skype.

Which kind of infuriated you, because it probably was true that Hoseok preferred to be alone and lost in his world of music. But there must be something horribly isolating about never getting invited to things or never being included, which is why you kept trying to include him in your own conversations. The others would sometimes talk around him, but you always tried to make sure that he felt comfortable and included in your conversations.

Taehyung had honestly admitted in a meeting that he wasn’t entirely sure why you kept asking Hoseok things, pointing out that you might be annoying him. But you’d countered with the fact that you always gave Hoseok plenty of options to slip out of the conversation, yet he would continue it on sometimes.

It had been then that Taehyung had flushed a pretty golden pink, nodding his head as he acknowledged the fact that Hoseok had opened up more in the last few months of you being here than in the years he’d been here. That on its own had made your heart hurt. No one could enjoy being so easily disregarded, no matter how quiet and introverted.

Currently though, you were slouched on your couch with your best friend, Sunmi, as you both ate pepperoni pizza while watching Avengers: Infinity War for the bajillionth time. You, because you just loved the film, and her because she really loved Chris Hemsworth.

Honestly? Mood.

“I swear, this is the most badass entry scene of any entry scene in all of film,” You blurt out randomly, lifting your fist as Thor appears on screen in the middle of the battlefield and shouting out alongside him. “Bring. Me. Thanos!”

Sunmi snorts elegantly from your side, taking a bite of greasy pizza and chewing slowly while she eyes up her fictional man with pleasure. A hum of delight leaves her when Thor meets up with Captain America and you laugh, poking at her side.

“Imagine being in a Chris sandwich.” She looks at you and wiggles her carefully put together eyebrows before giggling.

“I wish. God, they can wreck me any day. You know, I can’t believe that you get to watch stuff like this and then write about it or make a video about it. Why can’t I just laze around and do that? Do they have an opening for me?” She pouts at you, placing the crust back in the box before wrapping her hands around your wrist and playfully whining.

You laugh loudly and take a bite of your own slice. “For what? Sorry Elle Woods, but you’re going to have keep your bending and snapping for the judge and jury. I doubt Poppin’ Culture - The Law Version will be very popular.”

“What about if I wear a hot pink bikini?” She says seriously, her face carefully blank as you give her a droll stare.

“Yeah sure, lemme give PornHub a call. I’m sure they’ve got a whole audience just waiting for their law lectures from Bikini Girl 3.” Sunmi shrieks with laughter at that, rolling backwards until her head is hitting the arm of the sofa and relaxing into the pile of cushions there.

Reaching her foot up, she prods at your thigh annoyingly until you push her away with a sigh.

“So, how is your work though? You’ve been spending a lot of time there. Which, by the way, is ridiculous. I only spend extra time doing work if I’m getting paid for it because I do not enjoy my job that much.” Sunmi sighs heavily, letting her arms fall behind her head as she turns her gaze back to your large television screen.

“Okay firstly, it was your decision to take a law degree. Your parents are assholes but they’re not dickish. They would have been fine with you being a doctor instead. Secondly, you make so much money an hour that you shouldn’t complain. You can literally buy a pair of Jimmy Choos with an hour.” Closing the pizza box, you lean forward and place it onto your wooden coffee table before leaning back and patting your stomach affectionately.

“Firstly you bitchass, I don’t make a lot because I’m still not fully qualified yet. It costs a lot to be a lawyer and the work is boring because I’m in property law. Yawn. Secondly, I hate property law but I would’ve passed out being a doctor. Blood and snot? No thanks. Maybe I should just give it all up and go back to college to become an artist.” She says dreamily and you look over at her with a raised brow.

“Do it. If it’s what you want. Your life shouldn’t be made on a decision you did based on what your parents wanted for you, as much as you might want to make them happy. They’re not your life, and you’ll burn out quicker if you do something you hate.” Sunmi just hums before shifting the pillows until she’s looking at you.

“Still. It’s nice that you’re enjoying it. I’m happy for you. I need to meet this Lisa, so you better set up a playdate or something. If she’s banging, I may just bang her. I mean, if you’re alright with that. And she likes girls.” Sunmi wiggles her brow and you laugh, shaking your head slowly.

“I think Lisa swings both ways honestly, so go for it. She’s pretty and cute with a really nice and fun personality. I wish I could introduce you to Jimin and Taehyung as well. They’re funny individually but hilarious together. Urgh, I wish I had someone the way Jimin eyefucks Tae across the room.”

“Does he realise you can see that?” She asks, an incredulous look on her face and you nod with a laugh.

“Oh yeah. He just gives me an innocent smile. They’re fun though and make me laugh, it’s like a family.” You sigh softly, slumping down further into the couch pillow. Sunmi’s quiet for a few seconds before speaking again.

“What about that quiet guy? Hoseok right?” Pausing, you chew on your lip as you stare blankly at the screen and wonder how to describe him to her.

“Hoseok...is sweet. Quiet but sweet. He doesn’t get involved in conversations of his own accord still, but I include him and he’ll get more involved now. We even have whole conversations just him and I, particularly about our love of 80s films though they’re not very long conversations. It’s nice, I’m literally watching him become more integrated and it’s kind of annoying that everyone just let him stagnate in his isolation. Like, seriously. Did no one ever think that maybe he doesn’t get involved because people have let him isolate himself? It’s hard to pull yourself out of that, and he’s obviously trying.” You don’t even realise you’re half ranting until you see Sunmi’s bemused smile, causing your cheeks to heat.

“Anyway, yeah. He’s a lot more caring than people think too. He just doesn’t show it in ways that you or I would, nor does he talk about them. Like...the other week I came in one morning to find a tube of dissolvable vitamin C tablets on my desk. When I asked where they’d come from, Hoseok Skyped me and said that he thought I looked like I was lacking a bit of vitamin C and to take one with water every day. And then when I was feeling a bit tired, he made me a cup of green tea. I swear Sunmi, he was so sweet and adorable because he kept stumbling over his words while telling me that green tea was healthy and rejuvenating but he didn’t like the taste so he always has peppermint and he hoped I liked peppermint too.”

Sunmi says nothing for a moment and you look at her in confusion, wondering why she’s suddenly decided to be quiet. It’s not like her to not get involved in your conversations, only she’s staring at you with wide eyes and a pretty mouth that’s fallen open.

“Oh my god. You like him.” Her words cause you to pause, frowning immediately as you shake your head in denial.

“What? No I don’t. I mean, yeah as a friend. Or I hope as a friend, but not anything more than that.” She lets out a peal of high pitched laughter while sitting up, looking closely at your face with those mahogany eyes of hers.

“Yes, you do. Oh my god, he is not even remotely your type from the sounds of it yet you’re falling hard girl. Show me a picture of him.” You want to keep denying her, mind spinning from what she’s come out with as you wonder where she’s got this impression from.

But once Sunmi has made up her mind, then it’s game over for everyone else. Sure enough, you find yourself scrolling through your phone on Facebook to find a nice picture of him to show her. And as you look through his, admittedly few, profile pictures, you pause for a moment as you realise that maybe she’s right.

Only people who like someone try and find the best looking picture of them, too afraid that their friend or family member will laugh and think their crush ugly. The swooping sensation in your stomach is confusing, and you don’t know whether it’s shy excitement or just plain old nausea.

Finally deciding on a picture of Hoseok that has obviously been taken in a coffee shop, you turn the phone screen so she can see. It’s got dim lighting, and has looks to have been taken on a Polaroid style camera from the style of it but he looks good.

In fact, he looks beautiful and his bright smile kind of takes your breath away.

He’s just wearing a plain white, long sleeved shirt with dark brown hair parted in the centre, the strands laying carelessly on his forehead while those beautiful chocolate eyes stare out from behind the lenses of his glasses. The table blocks anymore view of him and yet you can’t help but feel the fluttering in your stomach slowly spread along your veins.

Hoseok’s smiles are still rare, but they’ve slowly been becoming more frequent as you continue to talk to him. And every time you think he should smile more often, because he has a face that’s made for a smile.

His mouth is stretched wide with perfectly white, straight teeth showing and the force of the expression causes his eyes to narrow, soft tan cheeks looking adorably kissable.

Oh, you’re totally fucked.

“Holy shit…are you kidding me? This is Quiet Guy? Shy Guy? Holy fuck girl. He’s gorgeous! Look at that smile, oh my god. And he has such pretty eyes, that’s just not fair. Oh, please go for him. I know I said that he’s not your type because you normally like either those hipster guys or bad boys but he looks like he’d be so good for you. He looks kind, like you’d call him and say you’re sick and he comes right over to make you food and wraps you up in a blanket before cuddling with you, telling you that you need body heat to stay warm.” You look at her with a raised brow as she takes your phone and scrolls through his photos.

“And he obviously likes you.” Her words throw you then, causing you to frown as you stare before finally asking why she thinks.

“Because you said it yourself. He talks to you, even when he doesn’t talk to the others. You’ve said he keeps conversations going with you. He added you on Facebook first and he’s taking care of you in a weird but cute way of flirting. Like I said, he looks like he’d be a good boyfriend because he’s already trying to make sure you’re healthy and okay.”

She hands your phone back and points at the screen, where a new photo of Hoseok is. It’s not from his profile pictures, so you just presume it’s one that someone took of him and tagged him in. He’s asleep on his side on a couch, his right cheek smooshed into a pillow while his other looks soft and round. Pink lips pout in his sleep, the ends turned up while his lashes remain firmly closed and his hair is all over the place.

You have the strongest urge to reach through the screen to kiss his cheek.

“I think you should think on it, because I know you. And you’re probably having a little internal argument right now about whether or not you like him. But...if you decide that you do. Then I think you should go for it, because he looks nice. Get to know him a bit more, get him to open up his walls to you a bit more and then see if he really is interested. It’s been a while since you smiled like that about someone, and even longer since you searched through their pictures to find me the most flattering.” Dammit, you knew she’d figure you out.

You don’t respond though, simply locking your phone and placing it down on the cushion next to you as you both turn your attention back to the film. But you can’t help the what if’s that float around in the back of your mind, wondering if perhaps she’s right not only about yourself, but also him.

Did Hoseok like you?

-

Quite understandably, your interactions with Hoseok are suddenly tinged with a film of awkwardness as you contemplate the fact that you quite possibly like your shy colleague. And that’s to say nothing of how closely you watch his interactions with you to see if there’s a chance that he likes you in the way you like him.

Honestly, anyone would think you were 14 and not 26.

But he made you feel like a teenager though. The fluttering of nervous excitement in your stomach whenever he would look at you with that soft, bashful smile he’d give you whenever he caught your eye in the office. The way you would feel sad resentment when he was ill or was working from home and so didn’t come in.

How could you not though? Not only was he soul wrenchingly handsome and pretty, he was also thoughtful with the few conversations he would engage in and he was so sweet and kind.

When you’d complimented him on the peppermint green tea he’d brought you the other week, you found yourself with a mug being made every time he got up to go to the kitchen. You’d be completely absorbed in your work, staring at your screen intently with headphones in to keep distractions at bay, when you’d suddenly smell the pleasant scent of peppermint drifting to your nose.

And then you’d look to your side and see a fresh cup of tea sat there, steaming slowly in your Star Wars mug.

A quick glance behind your screen would let you see Hoseok staring firmly at his screen, refusing to look at you and yet his cheeks tinging a rosy glow that made your heart tug. It was only fair to respond in kind, and so you’d taken to making him a cup of your favourite tea as well, delicious salted caramel, and leaving it on his desk.

He hadn’t complained, so you took that as a sign that he enjoyed it too.

Maybe others would look at your interactions with laughter or bemusement, but you liked them. If he was flirting with you, because let’s face it you were flirting with him, then you were quietly excited and hopeful. You could cope with glacial, as long as it would hopefully result in something at the end.

Currently, you were attempting to film a video talking about the films that were snubbed completely at the Oscars. Taehyung had written up the script for you but was suffering from a winter cold at home. You’d claim man-flu, only you’d video called him and seen the dark circles under his eyes, sallow skin and bright red nose as he’d sniffled and snorted his way through your conversation.

As a result, you’d had to grab your emergency make-up kit from your drawer and rush to the bathroom to apply it. Today had been a lazy day; meaning you were just wearing a pair of ratty black jeans and an ancient Star Wars shirt that had once been black but was now an odd shade of grey.

Once you’d felt that you looked at the very least passable to the potentially thousands upon thousands of people who would be watching your face, you rush back through the office to place your kit back before heading over to the recording room. Tapping on the door lightly, you open it up to find Hoseok and Lisa inside as they set up the camera and lighting.

Already, the big ring lights are glaring and you’re feeling hot as you move over to the two, watching as they mess with the camera before checking over the computer on the desk next to it. Lisa moves around to the front, standing over the duct tape X on the floor and clipping the tiny microphone onto her shirt while waiting for Hoseok.

He’s wearing a plain white shirt today with a yellow and black check shirt open over the top and a plain pair of jeans. For some reason, he’s apparently decided to emulate Jungkook and is wearing some tan Timberland’s as well, though they surprisingly work well with the outfit.

You’ve noticed that Hoseok isn’t exactly the most fashionable person, but he’s yet to wear something that you find genuinely offensive. In fact, you often find that he manages to look hot even when he really shouldn’t. Maybe it’s just a talent attractive people have?

Hoseok gives a small nod to Lisa as his eyes flicker up from the screen, the light being reflected in his glasses. Lisa begins to talk random nonsense, performing a soundcheck to make sure the microphone is working properly while also making sure the camera’s fine.

Once done, she helps you to thread the microphone through your shirt and clip it on while placing the main pack into your back pocket. You stand on the X while going over the script that you can read on the screen reader facing you on the table.

Lisa slips away while you’re busy practicing, going through quick vocal exercises to warm your voice up as you continue to read over what you’re going to say. In your mind, you’re already visualising what the video will look like and you kind of feel sad that Taehyung can’t do this. It’s a good script.

“Okay. Are you ready?” Hoseok’s voice is soft and light, every word sounding like it has been cautiously thought of before he speaks it. You smile slightly as your head nods forward in response to him before clearing your throat and clenching your hands a few times while letting out a deep breath.

“Am I in the right place?” Looking down at the floor, you make sure that your feet are squarely on the spot and Hoseok looks through the camera before giving a cute okay symbol with a wink and pressed smile. It causes you to bite your own lower lip, desperately keeping inside the ‘cute’ that wants to escape.

“Okay, recording in three...two…” He stops speaking after that and mouths out the final one before pressing the button to record, a red light sparking to life on the camera and immediately you’re smiling brightly.

There’s no real pressure on you to do a good take in one shot, because Hoseok will be editing the scenes together and making some shorter to suit the video anyway. But you don’t really like wasting unnecessary hard drive space for him if possible. Plus, it just means he has to stare at your foolish facial expressions for longer and you’d really rather not.

On that note, it’s a little unfair that he gets to watch your face up close with a 4K camera. Actually, you’ve never thought about that before and almost immediately your brows crease at the thought of him seeing every pore and blemish on your skin. Christ, the camera does not do anyone justice and you want to whine at the thought of him seeing all your bad points in such harsh lighting.

When you don’t actually start speaking and instead start making a distressed face, Hoseok’s head peeks out from behind the monitor and he frowns at you in turn. Eyes focusing on his pretty visage, you have to squint slightly to see him properly from behind the astonishingly bright lights set up but you shake your head to reassure him.

Rolling your head on your shoulders and blowing bubbles with your lips, completely unaware of the tiny amused smile on Hoseok’s lips as he watches you through the monitor, you force yourself to get back into the zone.

The rest of the hour spent recording goes more or less like usual, with multiple outtakes when you mess things up and cause yourself to laugh. One of the hardest things of recording videos is just being able to being able to speak properly. You’ve had to learn to over-enunciate sometimes to avoid slurring your words together, because that just encourages hate from viewers.

And you are not in the mood to get hate. It’s already hard enough being a female commentator on the channel, and you’d had to grow some pretty thick skin in both the comments and on your own social media.

But there were plenty of equally great people too in fairness, and you’d even kind of got to know some regular viewers from the constant interactions you got both on your videos and on your own Twitter account. It was nice to have a mini fan club of people who were willing to defend you against the trolls and raise you up when you’re feeling down, though it’s not nearly as many as Taehyung’s extortionately big legion of fans.

There’s only a few major mishaps this time, with a few pronunciations of your words going horrifically bad and you find yourself cringing. Hoseok has a good chuckle on occasion and the bright bubbles of his laughter make you smile in turn, heart sparking with happiness at making him laugh.

Once Hoseok gave the signal to indicate that he was pretty happy with the recording, you let your shoulders drop while your head falls back on your shoulders, a deep groan leaving you as your entire body relaxes. Reaching to pull the microphone and its pack from under your shirt, you move over to Hoseok as he turns the light and camera off before he’s checking over the computer to transfer the new video files to his solid state drive.

“Did everything look good in it?” You ask, leaning your hip against the desk while your arms cross over your chest. Hoseok pauses for a moment at your close proximity before looking up at you slowly, his beautiful brown eyes looking sweetly innocent and big as he takes you in.

It’s still ridiculously endearing how shy he gets around you, but what you like even more is how it’s only when he’s not doing work related things. The last hour has been spent with him practically bossing you around, barking out polite requests when you’ve moved out of frame or have said something wrong.

He wasn’t mean about it or anything, he just took his job very seriously and it’s what made him such a damn good videographer and video editor. He knew what he needed and wasn’t afraid to tell people what to do in regards to that, so the sudden reversal back into the meek Hoseok tugged at your heart.

“Y-yeah. You did good. Less bad shots today.” You pout at him theatrically before pushing lightly at his shoulder, just enough to make him rock where he stands.

“Hey! There’s no need to be mean. You make it sound like I’m as bad Yugyeom! I don’t mess up that bad.” Lower lip sticking out, you look down at the floor until Hoseok lets out a soft and breathy laugh, shaking his head while adjusting his glasses slightly.

“I-I didn’t mean-. I’m not saying anything else,” He looks at you and gives you a wry smile. “I-I’m not stupid. I think I’ve dug enough of my own grave here.”

You can’t help but laugh out at that as you lean forward, body moving of its own accord before you move around him and rest your hand on his shoulder. It’s warm and solid beneath your palm, even through the layers he’s wearing and you swallow in sudden awareness of the firmness of him.

He freezes in place subtly as well, the muscles under your fingers tensing a little as neither of you move for a moment. It’s the first time you’ve ever touched him, and neither of you really seem to know what to do.

Swallowing, you let out a chuckle that’s a little higher pitched than you perhaps intended but you try to make it sound as natural as you can. Even if you’re feeling a little overwhelmed now when your hand feels warm and bizarrely sweaty.

“Funny, you’re way funnier than I thought Hobi!” The nickname you’d overheard Seokjin calling him once slips out without meaning to and you cringe with gritted teeth behind his back, taking your hand off his shoulder to pinch your leg at your stupidity. “Well, I hope it goes well. Let me know if there’s anything you need from me or just when it’s done so I can look it over? Thanks and bye!”

You can’t stop how fast the words fall from your lips, a faucet stuck on full when what you really want is a vault so tight not even the crown jewels of England can get out of it. Giving him an awkward smile, you book it out of the recording room as quickly as you can and leave him alone.

In fact, you go so fast that you don’t get to see the way Hoseok watches after you with widened eyes of shock which soon melt into half-moons of unguarded happiness in the quiet room. His hand shakes as it moves up to press at the place your own hand had been, the skin feeling prickly underneath and his breath shakes as a hesitant smile slowly paints its way on his face.

You don’t see that, nor do you see the way he pauses on a close up of your face with a fond smile before closing the programme down and leaving.

[holidaywishes]

Trying to Change

  Requested: 👍

  Summary/Request: Anything Seggy please. Always love stories with him. Maybe that he's trying to persuade a girl to date him and admits his playboy ways but wants to prove he's crazy about her

  Author’s Note: So, I don’t know if this is exactly what the anon was looking for but when I saw the request this GIF immediately came to mind and I needed to write something around it. I also wrote this in the middle of my World War I lecture so... my attention was split -- hopefully there’s no war talk in here...

  P.S. Just so no one gets confused, Y/H/C is your hair colour; I’m pretty sure every one knows all the abbreviations but I always like to put disclaimers in here if I use something other than the typical ones..

  P.P.S If y’all haven’t tried it, download the InteractiveFics on Google Chrome and you can enter in your name -- it’s kinda fun!

  Warning: none? fluff, Tyler being a playboy

  masterlist

Tyler’s P.O.V

  You were over Sophie’s shit. She had invited herself out with you and Rads, making sure to wear a revealing outfit. It was fine at first but when every girl thought she was your girlfriend because of how closely she was sticking to you, you felt like you were going to scream.

  “Just fuck off for a second!” you yelled at her and she raised her hands, her jaw dropping at your tone and you noticed Rads drop his head and laugh.

  “Fine... jeez, you don’t have to yell” she whined. You finally had a chance to work the crowd, searching through hundreds of platinum blondes to find the one you wanted to waste your time with tonight, dancing with one here and there or a group of girls when you were alone for too long on the dance floor. But none of them really did anything for you. You didn’t want to indulge your playboy reputation anymore than you already had and you figured the only girls that would approach you tonight would want that reputation. So, you left the dance floor to grab a drink and watch the crowd.

  That’s when you saw her. She stepped in front of her group of friends with a smile so bright it almost blinded you and you tried not to lose her in the crowd.

  “Seggy...” Rads called from beside you, trying to grab your attention but your eyes stayed focused on the smile of the (Y/H/C) stranger you’d never seen before. You watched as she made her way to the middle of the dance floor, encouraging her friends to dance with her as the music changed and she twirled, “Tyler!” Rads stepped in front of you and you raced to move him out of the way but it was too late, she disappeared somehow.

  “Shit..” you whispered, “where did she go?”

  “Who? Sophie?” he smiled, “Dude that chick left as soon as you shrugged her off...”

  “What-- No not her, the girl...” you gestured to the dance floor where you last saw her, “the girl with the hair and the smile and the eyes...”

  “I have no idea who you’re talking about, take a shot and then you can look for her.” He pulled you over to the bar and you sighed, still searching the crowd for this girl you couldn’t get out of your head, even with the multiple busty blondes that Rads had wrangled up for you.

  “Excuse me! Hi!” you heard a soft voice yell at the other end of the bar, “Can I get a Vodka Cranberry! Thank you Cutie!” You looked to see the face that matched the voice, not knowing who to expect when you saw a smiley redhead who looked vaguely familiar. You kept your eyes on her to see if you could recognize any of her group and your eyes grew wide when you saw the (Y/H/C) girl from before, her smile still as blinding as before and you tried to catch her attention; failing and deciding to send the group shots instead. When the bartender directed their eyes to you, you locked eyes with her and you felt your stomach flutter and then abruptly fall when she immediately looked away.

  Fuck...

  “Oh my gosh!” your friend Cecilia said, brushing her bright red hair off her shoulder, “I think Tyler Seguin just sent us shots”

  “Yeah right..” you rolled your eyes

  “No seriously, look...” she pointed in the direction the Bartender showed you the drinks came from. You followed her finger and caught his eyes before feeling your cheeks flush with heat and you lowered your gaze,

  “Ooh someone’s blushing! Go over there and thank him for the shot!”

  “Stop Benny” you said to your friend pointing out your embarrassment, “I’m definitely not going over there... seriously look at all the girls he’s surrounded by. Why would he send us shots?”

  “Maybe he wants to be surrounded by more girls?” Cecilia replied and you scowled slightly

  “I’m not interested“

  “Bullshit,” Benny shouted before you told him to quiet down, “you’re not interested? I don’t believe you for a second!”

  “You think I want to waste my time trying to get a guy’s attention who clearly doesn’t give a shit about women unless they’re half-naked and feeding his ego... or sucking his dick?” you said bluntly, raising your right eyebrow, “no thanks. I’ll take my chances with the creeps and weirdos on the dance floor”

  “Oh come on!” Cecilia added

  “No guys, seriously. Yeah, sure, fine, okay. He’s attractive,” you admitted and your friends nodded heavily in agreement, “but he’s not looking for anything other than a hook up. Even if by some random chance he sent us shots, he’s not thinking about anything serious and I’m sorry. I’m not wasting my time with someone who isn’t going to respect me. I deserve better than that...”

  “Oh babe, of course you do! We didn’t think you’d get this defensive...” Benny said, rubbing your arm

  “I’m sorry,” you whined, “I just wanna dance.. let’s dance!!” It only took one big pout to convince them to follow you into the middle of the dance floor before you felt a light tug on the train you had created; you continued anyway, not thinking that it was anything to worry about. When it was just you and Cecilia on the dance floor, however, you found yourself searching for Benny -- whom you found talking with Tyler Seguin.

  “What?” Cecilia said, following your eye line, “oh shit! What do you think he’s saying?”

  “I swear to god Cece, if he tries to bring him over here I will slap both of you...”

  “What did I do?!”

  “You encouraged him!”

  “Whatever, just dance. Let loose!” You stopped dancing for just a second before giggling at Cecilia’s terrible dance moves and continued bopping along to the music. Sure enough, though, Benny came over with Tyler Seguin and Alexander Radulov in tow.

  “(Y/N), Cece, this is Tyler and Alex,” he said, introducing everyone, “Tyler, Alex this is (Y/N) and Cece...”

  “Nice to meet you” Cecilia outstretched her hand to the two men in front of you, clearly waiting for Tyler to shake her hand but his eyes were trained on you, even though you were looking elsewhere

  “It’s nice to meet you..” he called out to you and suddenly you were snapped back into the conversation, “(Y/N)...” You smiled politely before attempting to dismiss yourself

  “It’s nice to meet you both as well... I’ll be right back. Entertain these two won’t you?” you said gesturing to your friends as you ran toward the restroom, sending a quick text to Benny.

  “I hate you and I’m leaving”

  “Don’t leave (Y/N), they’re actually really nice...”

  “I don’t care. This was supposed to be a fun night out to celebrate the end of the shit show that was this semester. Finals are done, school’s out, vacation started five hours ago”

  “We can still celebrate! This way we’ll just get free drinks...”

  “No boys remember...”

  “I know babe but just, come back. Cece and I will make sure there’s always someone between you and Tyler if that’s your worry...”

  “😒”

  “Don’t be rude...”

  “🤨” He sent you a few GIFs in response until you finally agreed to meet him back where you left everyone. But now you were faced with the fact that you had ran away from Tyler Seguin, which made you look extremely pathetic...

  “She’s back!” Cecilia greeted you with a hug so she could whisper in your ear, “what the hell?”

  “Yeah, she’s back! And she wants a drink!...” you squealed back, skipping past everyone to head to the bar. Once you were there, you waited for the bartender to come your way when Tyler whistled to grab her attention

  “Wow...” you said under your breath

  “What can I getcha Ty?” she flirted and he gestured to you

  “No no I think she was asking what you wanted,” you said snidely, squinting your eyes, “I’ll wait...”

  “Let’s see if I can guess...” the bartender said, leaning in toward Tyler. Oh this should be good, you thought to yourself, “you look young... and a little unsure of your choices. So I’m gonna say something sweet and easy. Like a Cosmo...” you fake laughed at her response before you finally decided to order a drink yourself

  “I’ll take a Jameson on the rocks please. Three fingers, no ice, a splash of water...” She took a step back before looking at Tyler and preparing your drink, handing it to you shortly after with a scowl on her face. You brought out your wallet to pay but Tyler stopped you

  “Put it on my tab, Erin, thanks...” You rolled your eyes at his gesture and went to find your friends with Tyler right on your heels, “you don’t like me do you?”

  “I don’t like people who whistle at bartenders”

  “She’s a friend”

  “I’m sure she is...”

  “Dance with me”

  “No thanks. I’m not here for that...”

  “What’s your deal?”

  “My deal?”

  “Why won’t you give me a chance.. I’m a nice guy.” You looked him over once which he clearly took notice of, stepping back as if to give you a better view

  “Hmm nope. I’ll just be taking Cece and Benny now...”

  “Hold on,” he said, grabbing your arm gently, “one dance, that’s it. If it doesn’t go well, I’ll leave you alone. Hell, I’ll even tell Erin to make you all pay for your drinks if that’s bothering you. Just dance with me...” You reluctantly agreed and he tried his best to get you to smile with some really awful dance moves, it almost worked until a tall, platinum blonde came up to Tyler and whined that he was ignoring her.

  “What are you talking about Sophie?” his voice was agitated but she didn’t seem to notice

  “Can you take me home...?” she whined and pouted at him as he stood in front of you

  “No, Sophie, I can’t take you home. There are cabs outside...” he tried but she continued to whine and you couldn’t handle it, so you turned away, “no (Y/N) wait.” You heard him tell this girl to go home and then tried to grab your attention back

  “I’m gonna head out,” you said, kissing Benny and Cecilia on the cheek before turning to Tyler, “you tried...” You smiled at Tyler before shrugging and turning to walk away

  “Wait...” Tyler called out to you, running in front of you, “you don’t understand. She’s not wi-- we’re not together...”

  “It’s not my problem, thank you for the drinks”

  “Can I get your number?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes”

  “Why are you trying so hard?”

  “I don’t know...”

  “Wow.. great response”

  “You’re different, I guess. You don’t... cater to me”

  “And you’re not used to it?”

  “Not one bit”

  “I know your type and I’m not into it. You tried your best but it didn’t work. Now I’m leaving...” you rolled your eyes and shifted your body from side to side in annoyance

  “Just.. please, give me one chance... have dinner or lunch,” he emphasized when you started walking away, “with me. Please.”

  “Why?” you said skeptically

  “Because I don’t want to let you leave without at least trying...”

  “My friends have my number...” was all you said before turning on your heels and leaving the club; completely unsure of everything that just happened.

Tyler’s P.O.V 

  You tried not to call her right away. After you got her number from her friends, you didn’t want to come on too strong, so you made a contact for her and just stared at her name in your phone the next day until your eyes practically lost all moisture.

  “Fuck it, I’m calling her” you said to yourself

  “Go for it dude,” Jamie replied, thinking you were talking to him, “be bold...” You laughed sarcastically as he mocked you from the couch

  “Shut up! It’s ringing...” you yelled and Jamie laughed

  “Hello?” (Y/N)’s voice chimed from the other end of the phone

  “Hi” was all you could muster

  “Hi... sorry who is this?”

  “Tyler.. Seguin.. we met last night...”

  “Right. So my friends ended up giving you my number I take it...”

  “They did... Are you free for lunch?”

  “What, like right now?”

  “I could come pick you up or meet you somewhere...”

  “Uhm.. I don’t--”

  “Please?” you pleaded, noticing Jamie’s eyebrows raising at your tone

  “Can you give me like 15 minutes? I’m just in the middle of something.”

  “15 minutes is perfect, text me your address and I’ll pick you up!” Your smile stretched clean across your face when she gave you her address and your heart began to race after you hung up the phone

  “Ty?” Jamie asked, “you okay?” You raced around your closet, trying to decide what to wear before Jamie came to where you were and leaned against the door frame

  “It’s just a lunch date, dude, relax...”

  “I’m just so nervous.. From the second she walked into that club last night, I was hypnotized or something”

  “Fine, just don’t try too hard. Just wear some jeans and be nice to her...”

  “It’s not like I’m gonna be a dick to her”

  “I don’t know how you are on dates...” Jamie teased and you laughed, before quickly fixing your hair and changing out of your sweatpants. You hopped in your car and turned on some music while you drove to pick up (Y/N), trying to tell yourself to calm down -- it was just lunch. It would be fine. When you pulled up in front of her apartment building, you sent her a text and she replied with a wink emoji before saying she’d be right out. She walked out and it was like the sun was drawn to her; her hair glowed, the short little summer dress she wore tangled with the wind and her smile shone through everything else; you couldn’t stop staring even after she opened the passenger door.

  “How’s it going?” she said melodically, raising her eyebrows and widening her eyes when you didn’t answer

  “Good, good,” you turned forward, “where should we go?”

  “I thought you were the man with the plan?”

  “You want me to choose?”

  “I thought you would’ve already chosen...” she laughed

  “I know exactly where to go then.” You took off to one of your favourite lunch spots, stealing glances at her throughout the ride but neither of you spoke. You had never been in a more awkward situation but not want to get out of it.

  What the fuck was this? you thought to yourself. Why is he just sitting there not talking to me? The car ride was bad enough but you’re at his favourite restaurant and it’s relatively quiet and he’s still got nothing to say?

  “So.. uhm..” you started, “why this place? What makes it your favourite?”

  “It’s got a great atmosphere!” he mused, “and it’s not insanely crowded all the time, which is a huge plus...”

  “Yeah, I can see that”

  “Are you from Dallas?”

  “No, I grew up in Victoria but I was born in Chicago”

  “Oh, that’s... not what I was expecting“

  “What were you expecting?”

  “I’m not sure, it just seems a little strange. What were your folks doing in Chicago?”

  “My Dad is from there, so his work and everything was in Chicago. But when he met my Mom, they planned to move to BC so they could go somewhere a little quieter I guess?” you said, raising your voice at the end, “and then I came along and they had to put moving on hold while they figured out some of the details.” You laughed as you told your little story about your parents. From there, the conversation really started to pick up. He told you about his family and where he grew up. You asked him what he’d be doing if he wasn’t a professional athlete, he asked you if you thought you were where you thought you’d be at this point in your life, you said no not at all but mostly because you weren’t sure where you thought you’d be at this point. You essentially played 20 questions that turned into 50 questions which turned into you gushing about your life story; leading him to gush about his life story. When he started talking about Boston, you suddenly straightened your posture and snapped yourself back into defense mode.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked and you furrowed your brow

  “What do you mean?”

  “You seem tense all of a sudden...”

  “I just...” you sighed, “I guess I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop you know...”

  “No, I don’t know actually,” he sat back in his chair, visually frustrated, “why don’t you tell me.” You lifted your eyebrows once before leaning back in your own chair, mirroring Tyler’s position.

  “I know what kind of guy you are, I know your type,” you said, “snapback, tattoos, nice car, dimples, and a little more money than you probably need. Pair that with the fact that you know you’re attractive and you’re just a massive douche...”

  “Wow... you really got burned by someone didn’t you?”

  “What? No!”

  “I think that means yes...”

  “No, a yes would’ve meant yes”

  “We were having such a good time. What changed? Why start acting like a bitch now?”

  “I told you. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, for you to tell me what kind of game you’re playing; what’s the bet?”

  “I think you’ve seen too many movies.” You rolled your eyes and prepared yourself to leave

  “Thank you.. for lunch and for picking me up and for.. making me laugh for a bit. But I should probably get going”

  “Wait! That’s it?” he tried, “you’re just giving up? God damn it, why do I have to try so hard with you?”

  “That sounds like a you question”

  “Just sit down”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Sit. Down.” He said firmly and you obliged, though you weren’t sure why, “just hear me out for a sec okay?” you nodded shyly and you watched as he thought about what to say; like he was searching for the perfect words to say.

  “Are you okay?”

  “My reputation sucks. I know that. I was a kid though, when I got into the league, and I tried to act like nothing affected me or that I was a tough guy -- because I was a Bruin, it was the gig -- but after I was traded my rep beat me to Dallas and I was being ‘chased’ by girls everywhere I went and it was nice for a little. I like the attention... but once the hookup was done, they’d move on and so would I. It was pretty miserable but it was what I was dealing with and then I got into a relationship and it was intense but it wasn’t gonna last. After a while I realized being single was better than being... I don’t know, vulnerable I guess...” he stopped to take a breath, leaning his arms on the table and resting his head there for a second before continuing, “when I saw you last night, I couldn’t get you out of my head. I didn’t want to lose you from my sight. When I did, even for a minute, I went crazy and then there you were at the bar and I was like.. ‘I need to do something. I need to get her to look at me...’ and then you did but you didn’t seem interested and I gotta tell you, my heart sank. And I had to work so hard for you to even consider dancing with me. So I did.. but it was like one thing after the other and I --”

  “Okay, calm down.. just.. breathe” you said, reaching out your hand to calm his nerves by placing it on his arm

  “You were just so beautiful. And your smile was the most intoxicating thing in that club and the light seemed to follow you everywhere you went. I knew if I didn’t try, I’d never meet you. I’d never know you and my life would be completely wasted if that happened. So, when you looked at me with those big, (Y/E/C), almost Disney Princess eyes, I knew I was in trouble. I knew I’d never get you out of my head...” 

  “And then I said ‘no...’”

  “Yeah, a bunch of times, and I knew that you knew about my reputation and I needed to prove to you, show you, that I’m not that guy. I don’t care what Instagram thinks about me or what the girls of Dallas think of me, I’m not that guy and the people I surround myself with know that I’m different than I was. I only let people see this side of me if I want them in my life...”

  “You want me in your life? You barely know me”

  “Then let me get to know you,” he pleaded, grabbing your hand with both of his, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone, or at least not for a long time...” You looked at him, holding your hand, eyes begging for an answer and you thought about it all for a minute. It was a lot and you couldn’t say that you weren’t flattered but you also couldn’t say that you weren’t hesitant. The last thing you needed was to let yourself feel something for Tyler Seguin for it all to have been some excruciatingly long joke.

  “How do I know that this is... real?”

  “I promise you, I’m trying to change.. I’m not perfect but I’m trying...” You squinted slightly at his answer and he tried to reassure you, “I want you. I know you know that I could probably go into a random bar and hook up with the first girl I meet but I don’t want that. I don’t want meaningless.. anything anymore. I want someone I can talk to for hours, someone I can share my insecurities and my vulnerabilities with. I want this. I want you.”

  “You’re very convincing..” you smiled

  “I’m serious” he said as he walked over to your side of the table

  “I still don’t know...” you followed his eyes as his head fell, “maybe we can take it one step at a time. Nothing too fast. Nothing too serious. Just step by step, day by day, minute by minute if we have to...”

  “Okay!” he exclaimed, standing up so quickly he reminded you of Tigger, “that’s just fine by me!”

  “Okay.. good. Because I make no guarantees that I’m actually any good at this...”

  “Too late.. I’m hooked.” He smiled and leaned in to press a light kiss your lips; you slowly returned the kiss before almost evaporating into it.

[ladylynse]

Happy birthday, @sapphireswimming! I wrote you a superphantom fic. Also...this got away on me. A lot. It was supposed to be short and--well, not sweet, more angsty, but still. Now it’s just shy of 6 K.

Note: More swearing and threats than actual violence.

-|-

Bewitched: [FF | AO3] Sam and Dean thought they were dealing with some centuries-old he-witch. That isn’t quite the case.

-|-

The signs had been more along the lines of impossible robberies than bloody murders, but Sam and Dean had been fairly sure they were on the trail of some centuries-old he-witch.

The creep changed his name in every town, though he was still recognizable by his out-of-place clothes and snake oil schemes. He was able to get into places that were locked up without leaving a trace, grab whatever he wanted, and disappear. Between appearances, he dropped off the grid. He seemed a little too good at that to be human, or at least an ordinary human, so when Sam saw that newspaper article and put two and two together, they’d decided to take a road trip to Michigan and check him out before he skipped town. Just to be safe.

Now?

Dean wasn’t so sure about any of that now.

If the guy was a witch, he sure as hell wasn’t using any magic to save his ass. He wasn’t even trying to fight them. He was cowering in a corner, trying to hide from their guns behind a wooden table. Dean and Sam both had different weaponry and ammunition on them—silver and iron bullets and even slugs packed with rock salt, though only Dean had a sawed-off shotgun with him, strapped to his back—in case they were wrong about what kind of monster this guy was, but….

Dean met Sam’s eyes, and Sam nodded and pulled out a flask of holy water. Probably not a demon—even with their reputation, most demons seemed to think they could take them and those that didn’t would’ve smoked out by now—but better to be safe than sorry.

Dean kept his pistol steady as Sam approached just near enough to toss the water onto their target. No burning. No smoking.

Crap. Maybe he was just a human monster after all. They hadn’t tried him with silver yet, but—

The door opened behind them. Dean spun around while Sam kept an eye on their target and found himself facing down a young girl, who promptly opened her mouth and screamed. Shit. While this cabin they’d tracked their target to was far enough away not to worry about more unexpected company, nothing in their intel had indicated that the guy had a kid. He couldn’t even remember someone matching her description being seen with him.

She wasn’t terribly old; thirteen, maybe, or fourteen or somewhere older than ten and younger than sixteen. He’d worry about her appearance—jarring red eyes and hair whiter than any platinum blonde dye job he’d seen before, which stood out against the black outfit—if their target wasn’t also doing the coloured contact thing. And the outlandish clothes thing.

Dean lowered the gun—not too far, since he knew better than anyone that even kids could be a threat if they were possessed by the right demon—but enough to hopefully stop her from screaming her head off if she was just an ordinary human girl. “Hey, it’s okay, this isn’t—”

Scuffling came from behind as their target stood up and Sam cocked his gun. “They’ve come for the final act,” the guy said. Gleefully. As if he were enjoying this.

Dean had no idea what the hell that was supposed to mean, so he risked a glance over his shoulder at Sam, who looked equally confused.

And then the last of their plan went sideways.

He didn’t see the blast that sent the pistol flying out of his hands, but he felt its heat. The girl wasn’t holding anything anymore—he couldn’t even see what she could’ve used to pack such a punch—but her stance had shifted. She wasn’t scared; she was focused. Hands balled into fists, feet apart, standing lightly and ready to move. To fight.

Salt rounds still hurt like a son of a bitch, especially close range, but better to bruise her than pull a knife. Besides, she wouldn’t know the ammo wasn’t going to do any lasting damage.

She didn’t react when Dean readied the shotgun. Hell, she didn’t even try to stop him. Didn’t attack, even when he’d been preoccupied. Which made zero sense, especially if she thought he was going to attack her.

He heard Sam moving behind him, shifting to better cover his back. The guy they’d tracked down still hadn’t tried anything, cryptic remarks aside. Definitely not a witch. Neither of them would still be armed if that were the case. But he had to have something up his sleeve.

He didn’t seem to recognize them—hadn’t called them by name, hadn’t seemed overjoyed or overly terrified by their appearance, now that the opening act was over—but that didn’t seem to matter to him. He hadn’t called them out as hunters, either.

But he also wasn’t trying to run, wasn’t trying to throw something at them or otherwise distract them so he could have a chance to get away. He hadn’t told his kid to run. Heck, he hadn’t even tried to keep their attention on him instead of her. Some parent that guy was. Or guardian. Whatever. Dean was pretty sure he’d make a better father than that dude, and that was saying something, considering how things had gone the last time he’d tried going domestic.

Sam was talking. Trying to calm the guy down. As if their target were the one holding the gun instead of staring down its barrel. There’s no way that was going to work. Especially since— “You’re responsible for all those robberies,” Dean said to the girl.

She grinned. It looked…wrong. Feral. It was an expression that belonged on a demon, not a kid.

“Christo,” Dean murmured, even as the man started ranting about payment. The girl’s eyes never went black, and she didn’t flinch. She was human after all.

Or at least not a demon.

“Don’t move.” That was Sam’s warning. If the guy was smart, he’d listen. Even if he managed to get the jump on Sam, it wouldn’t be enough to get out of here unscathed. They were used to taking on monsters. If these were ordinary people—

“Why don’t you light it up for the finale, my dear? Put on a little show for our…guests.”

Dammit, whatever that meant wasn’t going to be good.

Behind him, Dean was vaguely aware of a fight starting up—Sam had made a move or vice versa—but he was more concerned about the fact that the girl’s hands had caught fire. Not fire fire, some kind of green flame that smelled like burnt ectoplasm and hummed like electricity, but still something that shouldn’t be engulfing bare flesh.

The girl—or whatever she was—took a step forward, and Dean pulled the trigger. She staggered. And then she began to laugh. He shot her again.

He was definitely thinking more monster than girl now, which meant the other guy— “Sammy?” There’d been a crash a while back, and he didn’t know—

There was a grunt. Then, “Human. Out cold.”

“Yeah, well, I got a live one.” The salt wasn’t doing much to slow her down, not that it necessarily would, depending on what she was. She still hadn’t attacked him yet. She was giving him time to reload. Why?

Dean blinked, and the girl vanished.

Before he had a chance to complete his turn, he heard Sam’s surprised yelp.

That was why.

Jeez, she was fast. “Salt barely slows her down,” he yelled. Then, since he couldn’t see Sam through the hole he and the other guy had left in the wall, “I’m coming through.”

The room was tiny, barely two and a half feet wide despite running the length of the cabin, and was stuffed with jewels and gold and other valuables. Things that could be melted down or easily recut, reset, and sold off. Splinters and larger chunks of wood from the false wall were easily visible. Their initial target, as Sam had said, was out cold, looking like his head had cracked against a safe when they’d broken through the wall.

But Sam wasn’t there.

And neither was the girl.

Shit.

XXXXXXX

Sam hadn’t seen her move. He’d just felt someone grab him and then…nothing. He was conscious. Wide awake. But suddenly he couldn’t feel the floor beneath his feet, and then there was no floor beneath his feet and he was moving through the wooden wall as if it were just a hologram.

Reality crashed back a few seconds later when he hit wet ground with enough momentum that he skidded a few inches into a tree. The girl he’d glimpsed interrupting them earlier stood over him now. Even if it hadn’t been cloudy, he was pretty sure he’d have been able to see her glowing.

He’d think ghost if it weren’t for the fact that she was solid. He’d felt her. And he’d been thrown enough times by pure power, magic, or sheer force of will that he knew what that felt like, and this hadn’t been that.

Although he still wasn’t entirely sure how she’d thrown him through a wall without taking it out. A ghost wouldn’t have had an issue getting through, sure, but the pain and the damp made it pretty clear that he was still alive.

Sam started to get up, but the girl was suddenly on top of him again, pushing him down. She was surprisingly strong, even for a monster. He tried to twist away, and she just pressed harder, intent on shoving his shoulders into the tree behind him. With a jolt, he realized that if she could take him through a wall, she could just as easily take him partway through a tree.

He took more than one swipe at her, but his hands just passed right through her. Even clawing at her hands as they pinned him did little good; he could certainly feel something, the barest skin contact, but nothing substantial. He scratched at her, trying to inflict the only harm he could, but she didn’t flinch.

“Should I take your heart first?” she asked. Her smile revealed sharp teeth—not like a vamp’s or a werewolf’s, nothing so obvious, but they were unsettlingly long and uncannily pointed, too far past normal to be dismissed with the things he’d seen.

“He’d like that, I think,” she decided. “Your heart. And then your head. For what you did to his.”

He had to distract her. Give Dean enough time to figure something out, assuming she hadn’t taken him out first. Sam didn’t know what she was, if she was a human hopped up on some kind of monster juice, a monster with a human mask, or something in between. He started on a generic exorcism in case her powers were demon-related—

—and felt her hand in his mouth, holding his tongue, not so much as blinking when he closed his mouth. “I could rip this out.” Her head tilted. “Not quite an eye for an eye, but he wouldn’t mind. He wants me to be inventive. He encourages it.”

She wasn’t forcing him back anymore. She was still on top of him, lighter than someone her size should be but heavier than before, as if she were letting him feel more of her true weight—or forgetting that she was. He wondered if that meant more of her was solid again. She wasn’t using her strength to pin him down. If he could knock her off….

She released his tongue and sat back. “But if I do that now, you’ll never be able to apologize to him properly.”

He swallowed. “Couldn’t do that if you tore out my heart, either.”

She laughed. “I just need you to be able to talk. You don’t have to be alive for that.”

Unfortunately, he knew the truth of that, though there was no guarantee he’d ever come back as a ghost if she killed him.

Which, given what she’d done so far, he knew she could do.

“I’d still need my head.”

She seemed to consider this for a few seconds and shrugged. “Easier to find if you’re not in pieces.” She planted her right hand on his chest, directly over his sternum. “Still doesn’t mean I can’t—”

They heard the gunshot at the same time.

He felt her body weight vanish.

And then she shrieked, and her weight came back for a moment before she was off him, flying back towards—

Dean.

Sam scrambled to his feet.

He needed to help, but he didn’t know what was effective against her. Salt barely slows her down, Dean had said, and Sam had never lost sight of her. She wasn’t a ghost, but this wasn’t just magic, and even demons experienced some limitations when they took someone for a meatsuit—namely, they couldn’t just pass through walls like that. So what the hell had they walked into? They didn’t have time to do more research now, not when—

Sam ducked as Dean fired off another shot and ran, keeping low as he circled well out of Dean’s way. Not that that would help much with the speed that girl moved. Whatever kind of monster she was, she wasn’t new to the game. She had a handle on her abilities, whether she’d been turned early or born that way.

There was a flash of green and then a string of Dean’s curses. Sam didn’t need to stop running to see that Dean’s gun was on the ground and that the lichen-coated rock around it was scorched. He dove for it, but the girl was faster.

She only had a hand on it, but it was enough to make him slide right through it.

“What the hell do you want?” Dean bit out as the girl pointed the gun in their direction.

Sam got to his feet again, moving slowly and raising his arms so she knew he wasn’t going to go for any weapons that probably wouldn’t be effective anyway. Salt rounds might not kill them, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be shot, especially from this distance.

“You hurt him,” she said. Her grip on the gun wasn’t sloppy; whatever else she could do, she knew how to use a firearm. Great. “You need to apologize for that.”

“We’ll apologize,” Sam said, hoping to assure her now that she wasn’t at his throat, but she turned the gun on him and narrowed her eyes.

“You hurt him,” she hissed again. “I’m supposed to protect him, and you hurt him.”

“Hold up, you’re supposed to protect him? You?” Dean’s incredulous voice immediately drew her attention. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around? I mean, you’re just a kid.”

Sam knew what Dean was trying to do. Even though he wasn’t sure it would work, he pitched in. “Hey, you’re, what, thirteen? Fourteen?”

“I’m….” For the first time, she was hesitating. “I’m…. It doesn’t matter. I have to protect him. And you have to pay for what you’ve done.”

Sam glanced at Dean. He wasn’t the same person who’d killed Amy Pond in cold blood just because she’d been a monster. If this girl hadn’t actually killed anyone, if she was only threatening to now because they’d hurt her father, guardian, whatever, then….

“Look, kid, me and my brother, we’re good at first aid. We have to be in our line of work. So if you want to help your old man, you could start by letting us look at him.”

“He’s not my father,” she snapped. “And you’re the reason he’s hurt!”

“It was an accident,” Sam said, honestly enough. “We weren’t trying to kill him.” He’d seemed human, after all. And the explanation for all those robberies was in front of them. “I didn’t get a good look at his injuries, but—”

“Then fix him,” she said. “Fix him or I’ll hurt you like you hurt him.”

Sam met Dean’s eyes. They both knew how desperate she was, how likely she was to shoot them because of some perceived slight, and not necessarily with the gun in her hands. Still, they didn’t have a choice. If they couldn’t figure out what weapons would work on her, talking her down was their best bet. And if they couldn’t talk her down, if she flew off the handle, then they’d just have to throw everything they had at her and hope something worked.

“We’ll do everything we can,” Sam promised carefully. “We just need to look at—”

The girl rolled her eyes, tossed the gun to the side, and grabbed each of them by the arm. Sam wasn’t any more prepared for the sensation of moving through solid objects despite knowing it was coming, and it was disorienting to suddenly feel the wooden floorboards of the cabin beneath his feet.

He wasn’t surprised when Dean cursed and reached to steady himself on the opposite wall. Sam hadn’t felt the wind despite how quickly they’d been moved, which was in drastic contrast to every time a demon or ghost or witch or whatever had thrown them across the room.

“The hell was that?” grumbled Dean.

The girl glowered at him, so Sam knelt as best he could to check on their original target. He already had a goose egg, but the blood made it look worse than it was; it might not even need stitches by the time they cleaned him up. Sam did a quick once-over, but nothing else seemed to be amiss. “Help me with him,” Sam said, trying to manoeuvre so he could pick up the man without having anything else stacked in this place come tumbling down on them.

Dean grabbed the man’s feet, and he mumbled something as they hefted him. The girl was quick to sidestep as they carried him back to the main room—some open-complex living room/kitchen combo that they’d mostly trashed when this mess started—and dumped him on the couch. Dean went to get a wet cloth, and the girl’s gaze followed him.

Which gave Sam the opportunity to slip off and pocket the man’s pendant without either of them—the man or the girl—realizing. It bore engravings he recognized but couldn’t immediately identify, and he suspected it might tell him more about the girl and what sort of monster she was. The man was more cognizant when Dean returned, water and rag in hand, and Sam looked at the girl. “What’s his name?”

“I’m not telling you that.”

“Then what’s your name?” Dean shot back.

“Just fix him.”

“Just fix him,” Dean mimicked under his breath as he started to dab at the blood on the man’s head. “Look, I’ve got this. Head back to the car and see if you can find anything useful.”

Sam glanced at the girl. “Is that okay with you?” He knew what Dean was really asking—call someone, do some research, just see what he could find out—and he knew the girl would—should—assume Dean was just asking him to see if they had any supplies that might help.

She nodded once, and he hurried out before she could change her mind. He could always bring back the suture kit, and if he didn’t wait too long….

There was a small red stone set in the pendant, but it didn’t look like it belonged there. The gem itself was all sharp edges, more a shard than anything else, and the claws holding it in place looked to have been bent in with pliers. It was rough. Crude. Even the markings around it were homemade. Whoever had done this certainly wasn’t an expert at it.

They did, however, know what they were doing when it came to the runes themselves. Now that he got a better look at them, he could guess what they were for, despite modifications he hadn’t seen before. Most people knew better than to try to control ghosts.

Whoever Dean was trying to help inside was clearly not one of those people.

And the girl….

Possessed, maybe? An unwilling vessel for a ghost? Or a witch whose spell had gone wrong? She looked young, but that didn’t mean anything if she was a witch. Magic could explain what she could do, dragging them through solid walls like that. If he salted and burned this thing, maybe the ghost—

“You’re not helping.”

Sam jerked, dropping the pendant, and he turned around in time to see the girl’s expression melt from anger to confusion. Her feet and then hands and knees hit the ground. She was shaking. Panting.

He knelt and pocketed the pendant and the larger pieces of the red centerpiece—glass, he now realized—that had shattered when it had hit rock. “Hey,” he called softly, not wanting to touch the girl in case she snapped and did more than just threaten to tear out any important body parts, “you okay?”

She glanced up at him and scrambled backwards, flinging up pine needles and acorns in her haste to put some distance between them.

But it wasn’t enough distance for him not to notice how young she suddenly looked.

How scared.

Like someone who’d been possessed by a demon and suddenly found themselves free.

Considering her eyes were green now instead of red, that theory might still hold some water—even if they really were dealing with some kind of ghost and not a demon.

“My name is Sam,” he said, smiling at her. “What’s yours?”

“Dani.” The response was whispered. “I…I don’t…. I don’t know what….”

“It’s okay, Dani. My brother and I are here to help.”

She didn’t look convinced of that, but she didn’t shy away when he got back to his feet and walked over to help her up.

Instead, she stared at the pocket where he’d put the pendant. “What are you doing?”

“Helping,” he repeated.

She shook her head slowly and looked up at him again. “Not with that. Da— My cousin told me about that. About the gem that could do that. I didn’t think there was another one after he destroyed it. I thought I was safe.”

“And I just want to help you be safe.” Even if she was a monster, as long as she stopped this and didn’t kill anyone, hadn’t killed anyone, well. He couldn’t exactly fault her for what she’d done while she’d been possessed. His track record wasn’t good on that front. “Trust me.”

“I can’t trust you when I don’t know what happened,” she retorted, some of her earlier fire resurfacing. She climbed to her feet, ignoring his offered hand. “Where are we?”

“Michigan.” They weren’t really near any towns, and unless she knew the area—

Her breath hitched. “Oh, crud. I don’t know how long it’s been. The last thing I remember was that magic competition in California, and—” She broke off. “This has to be Freakshow. Have you run into Lydia or any of the other ghosts? They’re not still with him, are they?”

Sam blinked. All things considered, she was taking this remarkably well. “Who are Freakshow and Lydia?”

She made a face at him. “Lydia’s another ghost,” she said, her tone making it clear that she thought he wasn’t keeping up with her. Before he could question her on the fact that she’d said another ghost, she continued, “Freakshow’s the creep who had the gem that could control them. Us. Give it here and let me see it. The amulet thing, I mean.”

Sam raised his eyebrows but didn’t comply. “Us?”

She rolled her eyes and reached for his pocket, and his hand went through her arm when he tried to stop her.

Definitely not human, as if he’d needed any more proof.

But the fact that she withdrew her hand holding the pendant meant she wasn’t an ordinary ghost, either, even a relatively recent one with strong ties to her former life.

Ghosts couldn’t exactly transfer their intangibility to other objects, let alone travel long distances without being tied to anything in particular.

She studied the pendant for a few seconds before looking back up at him. “Do you think I can burn this?” she asked, and before he could answer, her hands lit up with that green fire again. He jumped back, and she said, “No, don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you.”

He wanted to believe her.

She was just a kid.

But he knew appearances could be deceiving. He knew the tricks monsters played on people. But she didn’t seem concerned that she was showing him her hand, showing him what she was, and she seemed to take the fact that he wasn’t freaking out himself in stride. Was it possible she was on friendly terms with a hunter? Could she have figured out what he was by his interest in the pendant, the fact that he and his brother were here? He hadn’t said that they were the Winchesters, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have put two and two together if she had any connections within the hunter community.

For all he knew, she could’ve run into Garth at some point after he’d been turned and learned which hunters she could trust.

“You have to salt and burn things to destroy them when they’re associated with ghosts,” he said quietly.

She stared at him. “Really? That’s what you think?” She glanced at the unharmed pendant, shrugged, and tossed it in his direction. He dodged, not sure if it would be hot when he didn’t know what kind of fire she could wield, and let it hit the rock at their feet. “Fine. Salt and burn it then. Just get rid of it and that stone.”

She didn’t make a move to run away or go back inside, just stood there with her arms crossed, so he grabbed the supplies from the trunk, wrapped the remains of the pendant in a cloth doused with lighter fluid, salted it, and set it on fire. He remembered the symbols well enough to be able to draw them again later and see if there was anything like them in the books the Men of Letters had written. Right now, he didn’t want to disobey her and wind up fighting an angry spirit who didn’t follow the same rules as the rest of them.

She was gone when he looked up again, but as he hadn’t heard any screaming, he figured that was by choice.

Hopefully, he’d taken the steps to making an ally and not an enemy.

XXXXXX

“Where’s the amulet?” the creep on the couch screeched as he lunged at Dean and tried to go through his pockets.

Dean, naturally, swore and fought back.

And blamed Sam.

Because, clearly, Sam had pickpocketed something their monster-turned-not-so-innocent-victim valued, and his little monster minion might still be hanging around invisibly and watching all this.

“I don’t have your freaking amulet,” Dean snarled, twisting the guy’s arm and finally succeeding in prying his hands off of Dean’s jacket. “Now sit your ass down and let me help you or I’ll just knock you out again to make my life easier.” He didn’t get hit with the freaky green fire the girl used when he said that, so he figured she was checking on Sam.

Just as well.

There was no way that would’ve gone over well, and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with the fallout. As if their lives weren’t messed up enough, things had to go sideways in the way that they always seemed to lately: unpredictably badly. Not uncharacteristically badly, sure, but bad in ways they couldn’t seem to account for.

“Give it back to me!” the guy shrieked, twisting so he could lash out with his feet.

Dean dodged and nailed him in the stomach with a well-placed punch that knocked the wind from him.

And then he felt the temperature in the room drop, saw his breath fog, and swore again.

He turned before the ghost girl had a chance to blast him in the back, but she wasn’t focused on him anymore. She was staring at the guy she was supposed to be protecting.

Even from across the room, he could see the anger on her face.

She wasn’t protecting him any longer.

She flew closer, not quite ignoring Dean but definitely not focusing on him, and shot ice out of her hands, neatly freezing the guy’s cloak to the couch.

He didn’t miss the fact that if she could do that, she could probably turn them all into popsicles, but she’d been careful enough to avoid touching skin.

“Freakshow,” she growled, “how long has it been?”

The guy—Freakshow was as good a name for him as any; he certainly looked like a freakshow—finally seemed to have caught his breath. “I don’t—”

“I’m not stupid!” she shouted. “I’ve talked to Phantom, and I know you’ve been doing it again, that you’ve been controlling me. How long?”

Freakshow didn’t seem inclined to answer, and when Dean heard Sam come in, he moved back to his brother’s side. “This is a new one,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed as he handed Dean the shotgun they’d left outside earlier, “tell me about it. The guy had this pendant with runes etched into it and some kind of glass that she seems to think he was using to control her.”

“Well, she’s icing him, not us. What kind of runes?”

“I didn’t recognize them, but from what I could guess, she’s not wrong about using them to control ghosts. I salted and burned the thing to be safe, so if she’s tied to anything, it’s not that.”

“But she’s not just a ghost. Ghosts don’t do all that.”

“She might be tied to a person.”

“Who, the freakshow over there?”

Sam shook his head. “She said her name was Dani, but maybe things aren’t that simple. What if Dani’s an ordinary girl who’s formed a connection with this ghost? It could explain why she’s sometimes tangible.”

“Sammy. Ghosts can’t do that. That’s not how possession works.”

“I don’t think it’s a simple possession. And we’ve seen a lot of impossible things. Dude, we used to think angels never existed. What if this is just something else we’ve missed?”

“If you’re suggesting we take her back to the bunker—”

“I need your help to return all this,” Dani said, suddenly appearing between them and dropping an armload of stolen jewellery and other treasures onto the floor. “I don’t know where they all came from, but I know they’re stolen.”

Dean glanced at the couch. Freakshow was bound and gagged with some glowing green stuff that must stick fast or he’d be working his way out of it already. Dani followed his gaze and just said, “We can drop him off at the nearest police station. He has to have a file.”

“So do we,” Dean said, “and I’m not getting my fingerprints all over that stuff.” Let the girl or ghost or human working with a ghost or whatever she was take the fall for that. He didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her, and he sincerely doubted she had a record—or would get one from this, considering what he’d seen her do.

Besides, why was a fourteen year old practically giving them orders?

Dani rolled her eyes. “Fine. There are some boxes in the other room, and I’m pretty sure his book is in that safe; I’ll crack it and do the packing. You two can deal with Freakshow.”

Scratch that. She was definitely giving them orders.

“You know we’re hunters, right?”

She pursed her lips. “I’d guessed,” she said, eyeing his shotgun, “but I’ve worked with ghost hunters before to catch the bad guys. Because I don’t want to be one of them. I don’t like it when people try to control me.”

Dean exchanged a look with Sam but knew better than to push it. “Fine. We’ll help you if you be straight with us. What the hell are you?”

“A ghost.”

“We’ve run into our fair share of those, and you don’t fit the bill.”

She gave them a wide smile. “Maybe you just haven’t run into my sort of ghost yet.”

“This isn’t our first rodeo. You can pretend to be a good guy all you want. Doesn’t make you Casper.”

The smile dropped off her face. “I’m not pretending to be good. I’m trying to be. There’s a difference. Not like you two are going to be saints if you have criminal records.”

“She got you there, Dean,” Sam murmured. Traitor.

“You can’t find a hunter with a clean record, kid, at least not once they’ve been around the block a few times.”

She didn’t bother to hide her dubious look. “I know a family of ghost hunters. The Fentons. And none of them have records.”

Dean glanced at Sam, but a quick shake of the head confirmed that he hadn’t just forgotten the name. Whoever the Fentons were, they ran in different circles.

Which wasn’t really a surprise, if these people specialized in ghosts and somehow managed to avoid the authorities.

Maybe they weren’t legit.

Or maybe they were about as good at their job as the GhostFacers, even if it was the family business.

“Fine,” Dean said again. “But if we’re helping you, you need to keep talking. And explain what you know about all of this.” He wasn’t about to turn his back on her, but he could cram Sammy into the backseat to babysit Freakshow and let Dani ride shotgun. Maybe by the time they actually made it somewhere, he could figure out what the hell she was.

Frankly, he still half-expected a reaper to pop out of nowhere and deal with her, but if they hadn’t done that when she was in killer mode, they weren’t going to do it when she was playing nice.

Maybe if he pretended he was on good terms with Billie and could get her to show, Dani would be a little more forthcoming. Assuming she even knew that Billie had taken over for Death. Even if the girl rightly didn’t believe him, the boast might be enough to annoy whichever reaper was on Winchester duty into showing themselves and putting in their two cents.

“Why don’t I just teach you how to really deal with ghosts and hook you up with some actual weapons?” Dani jerked a thumb in Sam’s direction. “He said something about salting and burning things? Seriously?”

“That’s what works,” Sam said, and she just snorted.

“Okay, look. We’ll deal with this first. You can play human for the cops, right, kid?”

“Better than you think I can.”

Sam’s eyebrows were raised, but Dean didn’t want to explain why he was caving with this. Why he was curious. Especially when he was—or at least had been--pretty sure it was just a story. He’d heard a lot of things while on the road with his dad, back in Sammy’s Stanford days, but the wild stories that had flown around the hunter circles some years back, originating out of Wisconsin….

It might be nothing but stories.

It might have nothing to do with this even if it wasn’t just stories.

But he damn well wanted to find out before this kid disappeared on him if he could.

Especially now that she wasn’t ready to kill them.

If she had been controlled before, then maybe, now that she was free of that, she’d make as good an ally as Benny had been. They could use more of those, especially with what was coming.

“Keep an eye on the bad guy, Sammy,” Dean said, walking over to pick up the pistol Dani had shot out of his hands earlier. “I’m going to do a final sweep of this place before we put it in our rear-view mirror.”

(see more fics)

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Between the pages | 03

Genre: fluff, angst, romance, smut, Werewolf AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: alpha!Namjoon x human!Reader

Warning: Mention of knotting/mating, a conflicted angry Joon.

Summary: Sometimes we find by sheer luck what we lost between the pages. The retrieval, however, is not always as fortunate.

Previous part / Masterlist / part 4 (yet to be written)

Inhibition has come to form a steady aspect of a life full of oppression, whether it be in the form of thoughts about a dearly missed loved one or unspoken words about an inevitable event. All are elements of the mental cage a fortunate woman was distanced from just in time, the second drowsy murmurs started to transform into murring, the disguise of the thing within regardlessly hoping happiness could be found somewhere far out of its reach.

Just in time to remain blind to the monster.

Be safe from the unconscious influence of nature always triggered first by a splendid persevering brother who also falls into bestial primitivity once a month howbeit in a much more controlled fashion than the youngest shame of the bloodline.

From a murderous lustful renegade.

And that same silver perpetrator now stares out over the calmly flowing river mirroring the rays of the sun on a rare bright day, zoning out to the occasional sharp sparkle that distracts all focus from the boiling bad temper and painful stings in the nether region which will only worsen once the monthly “season” starts anew. Is lost in the scent of inked pages that were once read together after class and on dates that seem so long ago if not part of one of the many surrounding tales, completely ignoring the psychiatric alpha earning some money on the side as a barista as broad shoulders are shook with an urgent request for a shift in attention.

‘Namjoon! Have you been listening at all?’ A mirthless though relieved grimace forms on the elder brown wolf’s long handsome face when hazy eyes revert from agitated crimson to espresso, regaining a sense of reality as gazes lock while absent fingers continue to fidget with the iron necklace from which a platinum wedding band dangles. The ring that will never bond with moonstone. ‘Of course, you haven’t. Look, Monie, I know you’re thinking of her as per usual when you stand here instead of actually running the store and can smell on you that your rut is going to start soon, but even so, we really need to talk.’

There is no energy to wage a verbal war despite the anger of the creature within, eager to lash out with claws at being provoked while the man forming its host manages to sedate it at the cost of increased exhaustion but a triumph of civilization. However, before starting on the inevitable topic, a habitual question is asked regardless of the never-changing negative reply to it. ‘Any word of Tae?’

‘You know how it goes, nothing. No new trails nor news. He’s out there somewhere doing fine, I’m sure. We have to hope so.’ An encouraging squeeze in a broad shoulder clad in an earthly colourful loose Mexican-style poncho consoles the melancholic hate-stained thought about the cousin turned away by the family simply for being an omega. A mere boy who was kicked out by parents who were supposed to love their only son unconditionally but easily discarded the blonde boy upon finding out amber would never turn into ruby. It is because of them Tae Tae ran away and vanished without a trace, could be dead for all that is known since childish naivety can become the cause for fatal errors.

Where are you? Please be alright. Please be okay wherever you are, buddy. You were the only other one who actually understood what it is like to be different. To be an outcast.

There is not much time to contemplate the loss of the relative with the odd square smile who was taught reading by a kid who would grow up to be a black-hearted killer, because Hoseok already moves on to the next sensitive topic of debate. ‘Joon, I went to the hospital recently and-’

‘I changed Jungkook, I know. Heard the story over breakfast thanks to Jin.’ Full lips pull back into a snarl, baring stark white teeth with a low self-loathing growl at the thought of having ruined the life of the shy cherry red-haired boy working as a waiter in the restaurant run by the head of the river territory who has strangely always idolized a mere beastly bookseller. Pulled strength from his words when dropping by to ask for tutoring for the seemingly hopeless exams of the high school he just graduated from. Kept doing so because he wanted to make his girlfriend, a really nice girl who is a few years older than him and is in the second year of the study of the mind, proud. But the mentor let the apprentice down in the most terrible of ways possible. ‘I’m a monster, a hazard, a fucking disgrace. I should be put down.’

Bony fingers now enclose both upper arms, demanding a revision of the statement out of fear for the asylum that would rightfully put an end to an endless war. ‘Don’t say that. We’ll think of something, do a bit more research to strengthen your medication. Jungkook’s girlfriend asked me to provide him with therapy so I’ll make sure he’ll go through the changing process as flawlessly as possible and keep you out of sight of The Council.’ The anxiety increases further at seeing the disbelief in an attitude knowing very well there is only so long one can run for justice, for a sane mind to remain separated from the abomination which grows more visceral by the day, for help to actually provide a solution. ‘Please say you don’t have the gun anymore.’

Until, one day, only a bullet helps.

’Joon, say you don’t. That’s not what Y/N would want for you.’ Something is off about the scent of amiable panicked irises, weird in the worried tone of speech. ‘She would support you and find a way. Help us find a way to do something about being a Renegade. Think of her, Monie. Of the ring. She’s out there somewhere and you will get married one day. And what of your brother, of Seokjin? He basically raised you on his back. And what of me? I can’t run this place on my own because I don’t know the summary of every book on the shelves. We’ll find a way and put this situation to rest properly.’

Flowers, but one sort in particular.

Tulips in summer.

‘How can you say that when her perfume is on you?’ The deformed mouth now clearly shows sharp canines, a mad frenzy ignited by smelling the wife who had to be saved from a monster on the other alpha cloaking vision in a scarlet haze as fingers mould into fists, nails digging into the palms to have a weak link to sanity.

But to no avail.

The tables turn, one hand distorted with rage grabbing the collar of a neatly ironed alabaster shirt and pulling the stunned earth-toned wolf with thin-rimmed glasses closer so that every growled word can be heard crystal clear in the air filled with the smell of freshly baked bread and her. ‘Answer me, goddammit. Why is my wife’s perfume on you? Did you fuck her, hm? Given her pups while you know she’s mine?’

The tinkling of the bell at the front door goes accompanied by a fresh alluring wave of the characteristic reminiscent scent also present on a lying bastard, distracting the mind just enough with alluring calming flashbacks to times gone by for Hoseok to once more turn the tide when a small step is set in the direction of temptation.

Y/N. She... she’s here. She finally came back to me, to her alpha.

The hold on the neatly ironed fabric is rapidly broken off by meticulously prying digits loose and turning the formerly offending arm on the spine after flipping a powerful wolf only now stupidly aware of the sudden attack, each endeavour to break free nullified with every ounce of available strength maintaining the locked position against the window behind the counter.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ A protesting wriggle proves as futile as the enemy’s had before, solely resulting in another grunt from the barely older colleague clearly thinking above his status. ‘Let me go!’

‘And let you walk up to her like this? You’re almost suffocating me monthly with pheromones so imagine what it would do to her.’ The unconsciously emitted hormones strengthen the chances of finding a proper omega partner to see the rut with through, intensifying every emotion and touch with the trance-like state it induces in both the lover and the mate. Although not everyone always appreciates the enhanced scents for to some they are unappealing, to put it politely. Regardless, due to the prohibition of werewolf-human relationships, very little is known of what it does to a person without the magnificent power of old but considering their obvious lesser strength, it is likely they shall submit earlier than the average she-wolf. Other effects remain in the undiscovered field of myth and legend.  

‘She’s my wife!’ The view changes from the bright clear spring river to wood supporting stacks of newly arrived books that have yet to be categorized and priced, pinned down on the counter by the cursed mongrel bearing the scent of the gorgeous lady already bound to an alpha from a proud ancient line yet tried to be claimed by another.

‘And she is human.’ The unimportant fact is growled through gritted teeth. Just another supposedly good reason to not meet the woman who should have become the mother of my pups a long time ago, when the force within awakened for the first time after a date in the lush green park nearby the shining river. She would have looked lovely on all fours underneath the long fingers of the willow tree at the waterside of the central pond, flowy dress imprinted with summer cherries hiked up enough to allow her alpha, me, to pump her full while wrists were pinned to the soft young grass.

The heat within worsens at the imagery as the rut painfully signals with restrained by denim twitches that the incredible fantasy can still be lived if only the current situation can be escaped and Y/N retrieved before going somewhere private. Although, with the sensual cravings coming more and more to a boiling point on the brink of an uncontrollable explosion, it is likelier the beautiful woman who was idiotically left behind will first be knotted on the ground.

Floral footsteps head towards the literary section in the back of the shop, removing themselves from a loving husband. Never again will the same mistake be made, that small hand let go of. It shall only be so when having to take over the task of carrying our son or daughter or both around.

Only then.

‘So what? I’m not allowed to even greet her? She’s not yours, bastard. She’s mine. My mate.’ Claws already begin to form where wrists are held captive, canines tangibly pressing against the tongue having greater difficulty with each encompassing second spend in rage, mere moments away from starting a fight as glorious wolves and putting the offender back in place.

If alive at all.

First, an easy battle since the strength of the opponent will be weakened by trying to act above social standing and then, at last, can true lovers be united and form a family. A pack.

I’ll mate her, right there against the poetry bookshelves. We’ll be together, baby. I promised you we’d be.

‘Joon, listen to me.’ A short lifting and harsh downfall onto the wood once more make a furious ruby stare shift attention from hidden loveliness to irritating commands supposedly made with reason. Made by a traitor laying claim to the mistress of another. ‘Listen. To. Me. I know this isn’t you talking, it’s the wolf on his rut, and you’re actually somewhere in there.’

‘Stop the bullshit. This is me. I’m here.’ Nothing but a true person, the rightful second-in-line for the position of the heir of the Kim family and leadership of the river district, is being held down.

Nothing but a man merely wanting to see his estranged spouse.

‘No, you’re not. Namjoon, normally you’re capable of suppressing the symptoms better. I know you can do it, so come back. Snap out of it! Y/N can’t know what you are and you want to keep it that way, emphasizing this by living unmated while still worrying about her. Remember how you’ve tried thus far, successfully, to keep her away from wolf society. Think about the rings.’ Hoseok’s voice lowers to a more peaceful version of itself at noticing the relaxation of tensed shoulders, the ceasing of endless barely containable struggles, the growling fading away into pained whimpers. ‘Your vows, think about them.’

I swore, dammit, what did I swear again? What does it matter? This is who, not who I am. It matters. Fuck, I need to recall. Right, to protect you against them. Against the thing inside even if it meant I’d never see you again. That, someday, I’d be a better man, fit to be your husband. Yours, in every aspect.

Scarlet fades away into deep earthly brown like the forest floor after a twilight filled with rainfall, the shade of the espressos drunk on book dates in this very realm of inked tales bound in a sea of colourful named spines. Razor sharp canines retreat in the gums, replaced by their human counterparts as fatal claws do the same but in the flesh of calloused hands. Speech is restored to baritone coherency, no animalistic trace left behind. ‘Hope, I- what I just- I didn’t mean anything of what I just said. I’m sorry, for what it’s worth after all the times I’ve acted like this.’ The gaze of the personification of the support pillar of the common sense that gets lost too often in the mind of the beast is sought, finding consenting comfort in it as the tight suppressing hold is lifted. ‘I really am.’

‘I know and, besides, you’re very unoriginal with your insults so I tend to ignore them anyway.’ As a way of making up for the rough treatment, clothes are righted by long tanned bony fingers, straightening out the creases and other signs of struggle while also clearly being aware of the boiling heat emanating from the skin underneath the fabric.

When they are finished with polishing, arms are crossed as a long face nods in the direction of the small back room functioning as a wardrobe and storage for new arrivals, back-up copies and second-hand novels which have yet to be sorted onto the shelves. ‘Wait there until she is gone. I don’t know, read a book or something, but whatever you do, try to stay in control. I have some of your medication in my bag, in the front pocket. It won’t really help, but it’ll suppress the symptoms for a while. Once she’s gone, you’re going home and I’ll manage the shop for the rest of the day. Should be easy enough, considering the stream of customers is... well, small.’

Tempting summer tulips are spread by innocent unmated fingers wandered to the fiction section where they are now leaving through a roman, conjuring up the earlier determination seducing the mind to give up sense in favour of true love.

So close, just a few steps away.

The heat encourages bridging the distance, rush to beloved lips that have never been forgotten, let temporary reason fade away into contact. Precisely like the voice falling away into absent-minded dreaming. ‘I’m... I’m just going to say hello.’

A firm hand on the richly decorated fabric of the suffocating cardigan makes the unconscious step forward undone, endeavouring to guide a stony resisting silver wolf to loathsome confinement again. ‘Joon, don’t.’

A pathetic whimper falls from full lips, partially out of the enhanced longing for the moonstone lady and in part due to the continuous stream of sharp stings of pain in the region below. ‘Please, let me see her. I’ll behave, I promise.’

‘I can’t let you do that, Monie.’

‘I can control it. Please, I need to see her.’ Shortly, focus briefly shifts to the light brown eyes of the caretaker of the contained yet mighty dominant creature below the surface wanting to be like any guy on the street. ‘Look at me. See? No crimson eyes. I can do this, Hoseok.’

The wolf wants Y/N too. It won’t hurt her nor will I. What am I saying? I am the wolf and she is safe with me.

A negative shake of brown locks lighting up bronze in the sunlight falling in through the window makes teeth grit because of apparently not being convincing enough despite having proven to not be a risk. And if the gesture did not stress this, the stern tone upon speaking does. ‘You just proved you can’t, Namjoon. Do what I just told you to. Wait in the storage room and take the pills. If you don’t, you’ll be a danger to us all and you know that. Do the right thing. I don’t want to see you disappear into the asylum.’

I won’t. I’m fine, normal. In perfect control.

‘But it’s Y/N, my wife, my mate...’

‘I know, but you can’t approach her like this. At least we know she’s back in town so I’ll ask around and see what the district leaders have to say, find out where she has settled so you can meet privately when the rut has passed.’ Another attempt at going towards reminiscent flowers moved to the thriller section is halted, this time to much annoyance which is answered with a laborious though resigned sigh. ‘Stop it. Deep within you also know you can’t.’

Sharp predatory canines.

Bloodthirsty ruby.

Burning unconvincing hatred.

‘I can! Have got any fucking idea how much it hurts, huh? Know what it’s like to be unmated and going through Hell each month while your brother is nauseatingly happy with his girlfriend, able to knot his mate, continue the bloodline?’ At this point, the political consequences are the least of worries compared to those attached to walking away once more, thus making the same idiotic mistake as five years ago. However, it goes beyond having a reunion as well since this is also about showing that the second ashen-haired heir is not as much of a disgrace to the family as they have made him feel. Can be the father to the strong alpha pups of the next generation, who shall be even better than their parents.

‘Yes, I do because I experienced it once as well, though it sometimes still feels like it.’ Lashes lower in the belated realization that both alphas have a partner which is not approved of, nullifying the argument given earlier that contact between a crazed wolf and human cannot happen due to well-known apparent risks connected to it. Although, how can something that brings pleasure and relief from sensual pain have any other outcome, have repercussions when it only ensures the continuation of the dynasty? ‘Jimin can’t keep up with me already as is and I’m not part of an ancient pack. However, that does not mean my experience can’t form somewhat of a warning.’

The detail of familiar perfume on the bisexual alpha’s skin was almost forgotten yet freshly remembered thanks to the topic of debate. ‘You haven’t answered the question about how my wife’s scent ended up on your skin, said whether or not you fucked her.’

‘Of course, I haven’t because I’m a good friend and have been serving the Kim family loyally. It’s a curious thing I keep forgiving you for the amount of bullshit you can spout when you’re like this.’

The provoked fist lashing out is easily avoided, a slender palm wrapping around the forearm as quick as hunting paws and forcing a silver awesome creature into the unwavering locking position with a cheek against the counter again. ‘Listen for a second.’

A disagreeing growl owns a choked grunt at an attempt to maintain the current position while dearly missed footsteps return to the poetry section, come closer. The brown-haired mongrel seems to notice the tracking, resulting in an enforced surprisingly strong grip. ‘Listen to me. Joon! Listen. To. Me. A new bakery has opened in town and I go there each morning for a cup of coffee before coming here. Luck would have it that Y/N is the owner of the place and present to help the employees out wherever possible. We’ve been negotiating a collaboration between the shop and bakery for a few days now, merely talking about assortment and delivery schedules. That’s the reason. I wouldn’t lie to you. Happy now?’

A difficult look over the shoulder wants to see the lie behind the words, a reason to deal with the fake comrade that will leave him shunned and forgotten in the hierarchy, but all scarlet eyes regard is honest truth pleading for a sliver of sane conscious floating beneath the surface of the split personality to recognize it.

Which the resurfaced humanity does when the normally sunny long-time companion continues when remarking upon a repercussion that was discussed earlier at the breakfast table. ‘If this keeps happening it will only be a matter of time before the Council finds out about your state and send you to the asylum. Think about Seokjin, about me, about her. You will never see any of us again if you don’t fight for control.’

‘I- I know and I try. But, I can’t think clearly.’ Teeth grit themselves at another spurt of scorching warmth shooting throughout, worsening the capability of returning from mindless animalistic behaviour, deteriorating reason with every passing second. ‘Hobi, it hurts...’

Need to mate, need to fuck. Where did the tulips go? They’re still poetic. My beautiful bitch needs her alpha. No, can’t think this way. I’d break Y/N, can’t love her right when the thing inside craves her too.

‘I know, Joon, I know.’ All former caution fades from Hoseok’s attitude, replaced by the persevering calm that tries to be maintained during chaotic moments like these. ‘I’m gonna let go now, okay? I trust you to do the right thing.’

The paralyzing hold unravels, palms placed on the counter offering support while getting up to roll shoulders back before sullenly wandering to the storage room, a hand sheepishly correcting ashen locks grown haphazard in the struggles for liberty that must never be given to the oppressed thing roaming inside. Withal, feet only curtly stop in the crack of the door to gaze in the direction from which familiar eyes surprisingly look back yet are too rapidly turned away from, the door closed too soon, to instigate any sense of recognition.

We can’t be together. Not now, in any case. Someday I won’t have to walk away anymore, someday we can finally get married and I get to kiss you good morning and goodnight. Someday a place of our own will be filled with childish laughter and little paws. Until then, I’m sorry, baby.

The dusty fragrance of pages inscribed with tales of the fantastical, some of which have always been believed to merely be the conjurations of fancy though the underground society would beg to differ, makes a wild heart slow down. Clears sense enough to search the bright cherry red backpack which has “Hope” written in colourful letters on the front pocket and is tucked against a stack of new publications for the wolfsbane medicine.

Two small stark white pills containing a sedating poison for the abomination induce the same brief haze they always do, giving the split mind the breathtaking room it needs to function properly as a human, be like any other man out there.

Simply be allowed to play the role of the bookseller by the river.

Wallowing in the scent of a forgotten summer behind a firmly closed locked door.

Nonetheless, memories tend to resurface.

And this particular one comes too close.

[ouroboros-panacea]

Stone [石头]-Decompose-[1/?]

Summary: [JJBA x HNK] "Phosphophyllite, my name is Phosphophyllite." Such is your useless life, no matter how many changes you make, how strong you become. Your life will still simply be a tragedy, and you, forever useless. The tale of a gem who suffered because of change, and an ancient being who wanted to change. An odd friendship it'd be. Rebirth seems more like a curse than anything. It would be nice if this didn't end with tragedy. {Disclaimer- I don't own hnk or jjba}

<Next chapter>

-----

Ah.

It's so bright, and so...cold. 

Is it winter now?

Winter? What's that?

I can't....remember. But, why does it hurt so much when I think of "Winter"?

Wh-who am I?

Phos...Phosphophyllite?

Is that my name?

(I'm breaking, cracking, leaking)

It hurts.

It hurts so much.

It...it....I....

Can't....go back.

To how everything was, right?

That isn't how life works.

Ah.

If only I could have....just....one...more....chance.

If only.....

Is this "Death"?

Is this what it feels like?

It's....horrible. I feel so.....

Cold.

It's going dark again.

I wonder what will happen to me?

I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise.

Promise?

What promise? To whom?

No matter.

It doesn't matter anymore.....right?

Nothing will matter anymore if I just.

Close.

My.

Eyes....

On that day, the living example of Theseus's ship broke, and a small, mint-haired child fell.

She fell.

And tumbled.

And fell.

Snapping twigs, scratching arms alike. Leaving dribbling, glistening ruby red lines. Still though, she stayed unconscious, sleeping with the stillness of the dead.

Crashing from the treetops, she was thrown down from the heavens, into a bed of wilted, grotesque flowers.

What a beautiful combination of reds, pinks and... oh.

Was that an arm I spy?

With my empty little eyes?

My apologies, you twisted pile of cold human limbs. I nearly forgot to mention you. Yes, you who play a part in the beautiful shades of reds and pinks. Sadly though, I cannot account for your smell.

Decaying bodies are strewn about the bed of flowers, in which the sleeping princess lies. Almost like a scene from "Sleeping Beauty", don't you think?

Now all we need is a prince.

Right?

Trudging through the dark forest was a young, purple haired child.

The night was quiet; only slivers of moonlight shone through treetops. But it was no big deal to him. It wasn't like he was a weak, frail human anyways.

A sudden thud, accompanied by the crunch of dry leaves, alerted him to the fact that he was not alone.

Perhaps it could've just been another animal, as he saw no light in the direction of the sound. But he could not smell the scent of an animal. He only smelled.... minerals, ore and a pungent smell of rotting carcasses.

That...was strange.

Normally, the smell of bodies would completely overpower anything else. Yet, it seemed that this time, the minerals and ore were the "victors".

How intriguing.

Perhaps he could observe this, it at least find out the cause. Better to know more than regret not having done so in his later years.

He had to find out what or who it was, no matter what.

Gold alloy trickled down the masses of half melted limbs and torsos, as if it was searching for something.

It slithered between the nooks and crannies, rubbing over the dried fluids and such, until it came across a few shards of mint-green phosphophyllite.

Immediately, it stopped, and thin tendrils of alloy snaked across the bumpy surface and wrapped around those very shards. They held the minerals in an almost indecisive manner, as if it couldn't chose between shattering them into a million pieces, or returning the gems to the body lying right behind it.

In the end, it decided to go back to it's body, putting the shards back in it's rightful place, with soft clinks coming from the shards. The alloy acting as a temporary glue, helping it's "body" come together as one whole.

The strangest part though, was when the shards were placed one by one, the skin would smoothen out, leaving no signs of the body ever having any missing pieces.

No sign of them of ever having minerals for flesh.

When it's job was done, it would disappear, leaving the child behind.

But the night was still young, and in no way was it's project completed.

Silently stalking through the forest, he took care not to alert anything or anyone in the forest.

Not that the humans would be awake at this ungodly hour.

Strangely, he lost track the uniquely powerful scent a while ago. It frustrated him, but still he was determined to find the source of this possible anomaly.

Hearing a quiet rustling from , accompanied by staccato clicks and pings, he stopped in his tracks.

Clearly, there were now other trails that led to the same smell.

He raised an eyebrow in question, whilst a faint smirk curled upon him lips.

It was the exact same smell, no mistaking it. 

Taking a step forward, he opened his mouth to greet the "newcomer".

Until an ear-piercing scream stopped in in his tracks.

Phosphophyllite opened her eyes, and found herself in an unfamiliar area. Where did all the trees come from? Last time she checked, she was still on the......

On....

Where?

She couldn't remember.

But she could remember one name.

Antarcticite.

The name alone sent shivers down her spine, and an overwhelming urge to break something, anything.

Herself would also suffice.

It made her feel like she was on the verge of breaking apart to the sheer loss she felt from the name.

That name felt like the most important thing in a sea of jumbled memories and promises. Of ice floes, silvery mercury, a large figure dressed in Buddhist robes and two white haired individuals, each unique in their own way, who were together yet apart.

Yet it was not as painful as the thought of "Antarcticite".

The soft light of the moon seemed to only drown her further into the tempting thought of crushing herself in to itty-bitty bits, it's glorious shine reminding her of a phrase spoken a long time ago. She didn't know who said it, or where it was said.

But she hated it. Hated the moon and everything it stood for in her hazy mind.

Hated it with with a fiery passion.

Those blazing feelings clogged her throat with a rising taste of metallic bile clawing it's way through. Choking her with a vice-like grip.

Her left eye hurt, feeling as if something was penetrating the fragile gem. She tried to ease the throbbing pain as she brought a hand to her face, attempting to gently massage it through the eyelid. Curiously, nothing was there, nothing in her eye at all. It still hurt though. Shifting her legs slightly, soft squelches were suddenly heard, while her other hand felt something soft, squishy.

Then the smell hit her.

The godawful smell...that came from below.

With wide eyes, she looked down at the carnage beneath her.

She was met with a twisted wreath of limbs and torsos, all having open wounds that leaked maggots from crusted edges of dried blood and pus.

With Phosphophyllite herself sitting in the very center, a mockery of a monarch sitting upon their throne.

It was...filthy.

What was this....whatever it was. Certainly nothing pleasant.

She didn't like it. But it intrigued her.

Who on Earth would be doing such a time consuming task like this?

But.

She found herself with only one clear question in mind.

Where was she?

Clearly nowhere she knew of.

Attempting to get herself off this abomination, she tried to push herself off the dirty, wet surface. Gripping half revealed bones and ripped up muscle, she turned herself over and nearly fell flat on her face in the process. Thank goodness she was fast enough to plant both arms on a "sturdy surface" before she did so.

It was as if her legs forgot how to walk or stand.

Then she heard her wrists fracture.

Curiosity overtook her, forcing her to look at the no longer flawless skin. There were thin cracks to see, and when phosphophyllite pushed herself up to stand on her two shaking legs, they dropped both small and large crystals of her namesake. The shiny mint green almost impossible to miss.

When she tried to move them.

They fell off.

Leading to another observer to gasp at this anomaly.

Causing a chain reaction.

She saw white. Blinding beautiful clear white. Like ice floes. It reminded her of them.

What were ice floes?

Oh, right. Nothing good. They weren't good at all.

Gold and platinum mixed together, meshing into a combination of the two, the colour a golden white. It splashed down from her arms, seeping through from the cracks. Reaching out for the fallen pieces of her body.

Her eyes widened with surprise, yet a sense of familiarity washed over. Telling her it was nothing new.

The alloy slotted itself into the tiny openings inside her broken hands and pulled them back onto her wrist like puppeteer strings with a woosh,clink and clack. Like a trained embroiderer, it weaved in and out of her "skin", fixing any blemishes and irregularities.

Now.

Where was she?

Oh.

An observer. Looking so much like.

Like...

B...o..r..t?

Who was that?

Were they important?

The name vanished as quickly as it came.

Oh well. Maybe next time. Right?

The sound of another drew her attention.

Tumbling out of the bushes, a young boy stared at her with horror in his eyes. Mouth set into a scream, yet no sound could be heard. He landed on his knees and stared at her as if she was death itself.

Cold sweat ran down his forehead like tears, made his palms clammy and sticky. His entire body shook with absolute terror.

That green haired girl was a monster.

Was she the one who slaughtered them all? All those who had gone missing in the forest, never to come back was because of her? Was she responsible for this macabre sculpture?

Looking at her odd appendages, even more fear clouded his mind. Cowardice tempting him to run, run far away from this-this thing.

Then she turned to look at him with dull, dull eyes.

A piercing scream ripped from his throat.

How annoying.

Now that was definitely another one of them humans.

He'd have to get rid of that boy.

Screaming?

Why was he screaming?

"H-hey, why are you...?" She tried to ask, staggering towards the... squishier version of her. She supposed.

She only got a choked cough in return, a face as white as a sheet.

Dark brown eyes stared up at her.

She tried again

"Ar-aren't we the...s-same?" Words came out with slight difficulty. An expression of confusion on her face.

Finally, he spoke.

"I'm not the same as you. You, you murderer!"

Murderer? What did that mean? Was he talking about the pile of squishy things? Did he think...that she did it?

No, no. She couldn't take credit for someone else's work.

She opened her mouth again to tell him the truth. But before she could.

He flopped down as he suddenly became rubber. As it fell, she could see purple.

Purple.

She saw purple.

Purple hair, that is.

Then a finger, which led to the smirking face of a victor.

"My my, what do we have here?"

Covered in nothing but a loincloth, a boy with messy, curly purple hair appeared. He seemed to be the same age as her.

Or perhaps not. He emitted an aura that told her he was much likely older than he seemed.

Could he tell her where she was?

He stepped over the deflated corpse. With a few strides he stood in front of Phosphophyllite, staring down at her.

Name, he needed a name first before she could ask.

"What's your name?" An abrupt question. It didn't catch him of guard. Though it was certainly interesting how she didn't seem to recognize him for what kind of race he was from. It looked like she wasn't from this place. Perhaps he'd give her his name.

Let's see what happens.

"Kars. My name is Kars."

The beginning came from the end. She'd remember one day.

An unlikely friendship.

-Chapter one end-

[kikithecoconut]

Look Up

I wrote this piece last year in English for my folio and ended up actually liking it to a degree, So I’m posting it here.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You aren’t afraid of being alone in the dark, you’re afraid of not being alone in the dark.”

A saying his mother had taught him from a young age. Although it didn’t really apply to him anymore. He was always in the dark.

Having no eyes frequently impacted his work. As a librarian, he couldn’t read any of the books people asked for and often had an apprentice who would do the work he couldn’t.

Such a pity that his last one disappeared. The town had given their condolences to The Librarian, well, those who weren’t too scared of him. 

Luckily, finding another hadn’t been too difficult. A ding of the bell above the door told him that somebody had just entered the library.

“Hello? Mr Librarian?”

His name was unknown to everyone in town, even the young apprentice now standing in his doorway. Oliver was his name. A smartly dressed young man with platinum blond hair. 

The Librarian scuttled through the bookshelves to greet him. “Ah, you must be Oliver, hm?” His voice was raspy, as if his throat was dry. That was another feature that tended to put people off. He was wearing a simple cloak, a cobweb pattern embroidered into the lining.

“Oh-! Yes that- that’s me-“, timid, yet still so enthusiastic. The Librarian smiled, “there are two rules here, boy,” he grabbed his wrist, almost yanking him towards a black, menacing gate. The words ‘Forbidden Section’ were written across it. 

“Under no circumstance do you enter this section of the library. And don’t be loud.”

That was it? Oliver wasn’t about to complain but these seemed like very relaxed rules for a man people were utterly petrified of.

“Uhm- sir- if you don’t mind me asking,”

“Hm?”

“Do you have a name?”

“That’s none of your concern, boy. Just call me Librarian.”

The next few weeks passed without an issue. The Librarian asked his questions, all of which Oliver answered honestly. The oddest one being about the colour of his eyes. A soft blue. He’d found the smile The Librarian gave him rather scary after that.  Oliver asked his questions too, but The Librarian never answered, and when he did, Oliver didn’t know if he believed him. The only issues the young man ever had with the job was the lack of light in the building. He had once suggested they get more lights in the library, however The Librarian only responded with very a firm ‘no’. Oliver didn’t ask again.

One day, The Librarian told him to stay late, as he had something for Oliver.

As the Librarian led him towards the back of the library, he lit a torch, stopping just in front of the gate of the Forbidden Section and muttered something in a language Oliver didn’t understand. “Aperi viam”.

And just like that, the gate slowly opened.

“For being such a wonderful apprentice, I’m going to give you a book. You aren’t obligated to read it, although I recommend you do.” He said, no other explanation behind it.

“..Okay.” Confusion riddled Oliver’s features.  

The Librarian pulled out a book from one of the shelves. Its cover looked old, as if it hadn’t been read in a long time. Oliver frowned. If he wasn’t allowed back here then why was The Librarian giving him this book? Before he could question him, The Librarian was rushing him back out and towards the door of the shop.

“I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, young man.”

Upon arriving home, the book was discarded on a chair. Forgotten about until it was far too late.

The book had completely left Oliver’s mind by the time he entered the library the next day. All seemed well, although The Librarian was nowhere to be seen.

“Hello?” He waited for a few short seconds, before taking a few more steps inside. He scanned the room, but there was nothing to indicate the man was there. He decided to look around, hoping that he was somewhere out of sight. But he couldn’t find The Librarian anywhere. One thing that did catch his eye however, was the fact that the wide open gate to the Forbidden Section. He took a deep breath, before lighting a torch, just as they had the day before, and stepping through the gate.

He walked slowly, the knot in his stomach tightening with each passing step.

He was actively breaking the number one rule of the library. Don’t enter the Forbidden Section alone.

“You silly, silly boy.”

He jumped at the sound of the voice. He couldn’t place exactly where it had come from, but it was with him. Somewhere nearby.

“I told you to read that book, yet here you are.” Oliver was trembling. The library had always made its odd noises and scared him a couple of times, but it had never been like this, he had never felt like he was in genuine danger.

“Look up.”

Holding up the torch, the last thing he saw was The Librarian hanging from the ceiling, like a spider, his head rotated 180°. It was the most horrifying sight he’d ever seen, and it would unfortunately be his last. He began to make a run for it, but The Librarian seemed to move at a speed that no man should be able to. The moment he was directly above Oliver, he dropped from the ceiling.

Everything went dark.

When The Librarian awoke from the surgery, he laughed. Oliver’s eyes had been the perfect colour, the perfect size. Perfect. The Librarian could finally see. After all these years.

His doctor, Samuel Voytek, was a gifted man. Both in his practice of medicine and magic. This hadn’t been the first time that he’d done the surgery for The Librarian. None of the other eyes had been right though. But these ones. These soft, blue eyes that he’d so miraculously found. They were everything he could’ve wanted.

The book that the Librarian had gifted Oliver had told him what would happen. If Oliver had read the book and hadn’t returned to the library again, then he would still be alive. The Librarian would have left him alone and found another. Alas, he forgot all about the book, and had lost his eyes for it. His life. He told the boy’s family that he had been killed by an animal in the forest after he had sent Oliver out to gather firewood for him. The eyes now in his head, he had explained, had come from another kingdom. They just happened to look similar to that of his former apprentice’s eyes.

[dreadsful]

tagged by @roecompany love you boo

rules:  answer these 85 statements and tag 20 people

tagging: @fuckyeahspirk and @weneedwhiskey

THE LAST

1. drink: pepsi 2. phone call: deadass corsettis 3. text message: a skype to heidi  4. song you listened to: shot in the dark - within temptation  5. time you cried: uh like last night full blown sobbing because im w e a k 6. dated someone twice: no because ive been dating heidi since fifth grade 7. kissed someone and regretted it: no 8. been cheated on: idk brighten pissed me off for a little while 9. lost someone special: yes my kitty ♥ 10. been depressed: probably yes 11. gotten drunk and thrown up: i did drink two two liters of pepsi in one night and threw up 

3 FAVOURITE COLOURS 12. blue 13. orange 14. dark red

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU 15. made new friends: purposefully i have not  16. fallen out of love: maybe with a fandom or two  17. laughed until you cried: “we made her eat a combination of all the expired foods in my fridge. she was still awake and turned over with her ipod light. punched in the back of the head, that one girl last year who slammed into my forehead, “why is that ross from friends”, “ - adding on, the reaper that definitely got possessed mid-game, the people on video chat that recognized eren, the message i got from the porn bot on ps4, every time we almost got separated, ‘you cat pushed down on my vagina’ 18. found out someone was talking about you: uh yes? but mostly from people i’d expect it to be from lol 19. met someone who changed you: literally me and heidi suck each other into fandoms so much it wouldn’t be fair to say anyone else changed me.  20. found out who your friends are: ive happily been in a single committed friendship for like 7 years so i know  21. kissed someone on your facebook list: no thank god 

GENERAL 22. how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: p sure all of them besides some african kid that sent me a friend request 23. do you have any pets: yes, id like to have more tbh another puppy  24. do you want to change your name: yes my name is way too common 25. what did you do for your last birthday: just like- ate cake 26. what time did you wake up: usually around 6:50 if im being honest 27. what were you doing at midnight last night: im not even lying i was deadass crying  28. name something you can’t wait for: friday  29. when was the last time you saw your mom: just now  31. what are you listening to right now: my dog’s ridiculously long nails on the floor 32. have you ever talked to a person named tom: i don’t think so  33. something that is getting on your nerves: the fact that i always have so much shit to do but do none of it instead 34. most visited website: tumblr, youtube, character wiki pages 35. hair colour: naturally brown but i’ve colored it so sometimes its like- more brown/blond or brown/red  36. long or short hair: fairly long  37. do you have a crush on someone: no 38. what do you like about yourself: i honestly- am so good as procrastinating but still getting everything done it’s impressive  39. want any piercings: i would like to have my ears pierced but they always get infected when i do  40. blood type: i think ab something but im not sure 41. nickname: people always call me ‘em’ and it drives me insane i hate it, but i dunno if that really counts as a nickname  42. relationship status: single (thank god) 43. zodiac: gemini 44. pronouns: she/her 45. favourite tv show: bates motel, ahs but really just the freakshow and asylum seasons, used to be game of thrones before they killed off my boy, (tokyo ghoul and snk if animes count), star trek the original series, btas, gotham sometimes i have a love hate relationship with it 46. tattoos: heidi and i should get matching tattoos but i want a small one for my birthday  47. right or left handed: right handed 48. surgery: no, but i did have stitches on my chin & have fucked up my ankle and foot a bunch  49. piercing: none  50. sport: i say horse back riding out of habit but honestly i cry off 30 pounds a day  51. vacation: im supposed to go to florida to see my dad but he also didn’t evacuate for irma so is he even alive idk  52. pair of trainers: are those sneakers? 

MORE GENERAL 53. eating: soup 54. drinking: pepsi  55. i’m about to: sit here until i go to the movies  56. waiting for: also to go see IT like damn i liked the original but the remake is more my speed + eddie’s & richie’s jokes are the best  57. want: to get back into fucking platinum in overwatch  58. get married: i sometimes think i want to but then i remember how much i sincerely hate people 59. career: crime scene investigator but im also lazy af 

WHICH IS BETTER 60. hugs or kisses: personally i don’t like either but when it comes to characters i have a weakness for the hugs 

61. lips or eyes: pfft eyes  62. shorter or taller: tall people are scary tbh  63. older or younger: i hate old people  64. nice arms or nice stomach: both  65. hook up or relationship: uh- for me i don’t even,,, care, but for them otps you know relationships  66. troublemaker or hesitant: there’s such a thing as in between 

HAVE YOU EVER 67. kissed a stranger:  no 68. drank hard liquor: no 69. lost glasses/contact lenses: i don’t have those lol  70. turned someone down: not technically but when people feel the need to remind me that they’re straight i do stop talking to the, 71. sex on the first date: no 72. broken someone’s heart: uh no  73. had your heart broken: when any favorite character dies  74. been arrested: i should have been  75. cried when someone died: literally any character ever  76. fallen for a friend: 😏😏😏

DO YOU BELIEVE IN 77. yourself: ha 78. miracles: nope 79. love at first sight: not realistically no  80. santa claus: no ? who does anymore? 81. kiss on the first date: its just a kiss 82. angels: heidi is one 

OTHER 83. current best friend’s name: heidi ofc  84. eye colour: blue 85. favorite movie: IT is really good, the star trek movies are all good even if some of them are like romantic comedies. avengers, psycho, the dark knight and wonder woman (though i hate the dceu with a burning passion tbh), batman animated movies are literally the best, fucking brother bear and open season my childhood favorites, mad max fury road, honestly so much more i just can’t remember

[readyplayerhobi]

Papillon

; Taehyung x Reader

; Childhood best friends to lovers/Pregnancy!AU

; Genre: Fluff, light angst

; Word Count: 15k

; Synopsis: Kim Taehyung has been a constant presence in your life for the last 25 years. The bestest friend a girl could ever want; he’s been there for you through all the good times and the bad. What happens though when you find yourself pregnant and abandoned? What happens when your best friend steps up in ways you never imagined?

; A/N: Behold! My first Tae fic...FINALLY. I struggle to write him so...I really...really hope everyone enjoys this!

-

Sitting on the floor with your back to the couch, you let out a deep and troubled sigh as your fingers grasp at your hair. A slight tug makes your scalp smart, but you find that it’s a lot better to focus on that pain than the thoughts that are racing through your head right now.

What were you going to do? You’d finally managed to stabilise your life, with no student loans anymore and your job finally on the up. It had taken 6 years to finally get to the position of manager in your marketing team, being the ripe age of 30. Not that there was anything wrong with 30.

And you’d felt that it was all coming together, with a great job, a great family, wonderful friends and a boyfriend that you felt could possibly be the one. You’d only been dating Jin for six months, but you’d felt that the whip smart lawyer could be the one you’d finally tie the knot with.

Finally get your parents off your back about marriage and possibly work on providing them with the grandkids they so desperately wanted.

Leaning your head back against the cushions, you stare up at the white ceiling with a dull gaze as you consider that it’s probably for the best you hadn’t gotten too in depth when planning out your future. Because who would have seen this coming?

The door opening lets you know that your roommate has finally come back from his own place of work, and the rustling of bags tells you that he’s likely brought your favourite takeout from the Chinese down the street.

“Honey! I’m hoooome!” Taehyung calls out cheerfully, his tall and broad frame walking through the door animatedly as he places the bag of food down on the coffee table in front of you. He works as an art curator in the biggest art museum in the city, and his outfits are usually pieces of art themselves.

Today, he’s wearing a pair of black slacks alongside a uniquely patterned shirt that seems to be a few sizes too big for him with floaty sleeves, yet he works it elegantly. It’s probably the fact that Taehyung has the face of a god and the body of a model that he gets away with his eccentric fashion choices.

That and the fact he’s actually really good at his job too, with an eye for art that will not only sell well, but is likely to be worth millions in the future.

Anyone that sees you together often wonders how on earth you became friends with each other. Taehyung is loud and boisterous with a bright, boxy smile that enamours everyone alongside a magnetic personality that means he makes friends wherever he goes. You, on the other hand, generally stick to jeans and a cute shirt along with being more comfortable at home than anywhere else.

You like to say that your social battery runs out during the work hours, when you’re expected to socialise and play nice with other people and businesses to bring in the big bucks. There’s no way on earth you’d be caught out with even more people after work, particularly when you live with Taehyung!

But your friendship with Taehyung is actually decades old, matured like a fine wine. You had first made friends with him when you were only four years old. He’d moved in next door when his dad had got a new job, and the boisterous young boy had demanded to be your friend when he saw your awesome princess castle.

He’d stuck by your side during all your years of school, protecting you from bullies by attracting their attention instead. And when it had come to college, it had been a natural progression that you both attend the same college whereupon you’d developed a group of mutual friends that you could lean on when necessary.

Living together after college had finished had also been a no-brainer, particularly given that you had both found jobs in the same city. For two years, Jimin had lived with you both as well. The sweet guy had been a friend Tae had made during college, who had become pretty close with you as well.

You’d even dated him for a hot minute, before realising quickly that you both worked better as friends than anything else. But the threesome of best friends had meant that there had been no hard feelings, which you were thankful for.

Out of all of your friends though, you would always proclaim Taehyung to be your closest friend. The ultimate best friend. Now and forever. He’d been the reason a few of your relationships had broken down, and vice versa in terms of him. It turns out that some people don’t like the idea of their partner having a best friend of the opposite gender, never mind living with them.

But Taehyung and you had refused to give up your friendship over the prospect of a partner. In your opinion, if they couldn’t accept the wonderful, if slightly odd, man who had been at all your most important life events, then they weren’t going to get you either.

You watch quietly as he goes into the kitchen to grab your chopsticks, preferring the use of the ones you’d both bought years ago to the ones the store gives you. He comes back over and sits down next to you on the floorboards, crossing his legs as he hands you the box of lo mein while he takes a box of kung pao shrimp, placing a sharing bag of prawn crackers between the two of you.

“Is there a particular reason we’re sat on the floor and not the perfectly good couch we saved up while sacrificing good food?” He asks, brow raising underneath his straight hair while he shoves a pile of lo mein into his mouth. In peek Tae behaviour, he’d dyed his hair platinum blonde the other week and was particularly enjoying the use of non-permanent dye to bring all sorts of colours to life on his head.

Currently, it was bubblegum pink and you watched him in silence for a few moments. His presence was unbelievably comforting, and suddenly the emotion that you’d been holding in for the last few hours came bubbling to the surface.

A sniffle is the only sound that lets Taehyung know something is wrong, and he freezes in place with his chopsticks in his mouth. Turning slowly, he looks at you in confusion, his beautiful brown eyes going wide when he sees yours beginning to fill with tears.

Immediately he’s placing his chopsticks on top of his box, which promptly goes onto the table while he wiggles around until he’s facing you completely. Reaching out, he cups your face gently as worry paints over his own at the sight of you so upset.

“Hey, hey! What’s wrong? Eevee, come on. Tell me.” His voice, so deep and calming normally is lowered even further as he attempts to soothe your frayed emotions. The nickname is decades old as well, stemming from when you’d both discovered Pokemon and become obsessed. Eevee was, and still is, your favourite Pokemon and your love for it had let to him using it as a nickname.

Leaning forward, you let your face smush his neck as you breathe in the oh so pleasant scent of your best friend, the base smell unchanging since he was a kid. Despite Taehyung’s obsession with expensive art and clothing, he was surprisingly simple when it came to himself.

Wrapping your arms around his lean waist, you contemplate for a few moments how to tell him. It shouldn’t be this hard to admit this to your best friend, particularly given it should have been much harder to tell your boyfriend. But then again, you were more worried about Taehyung’s opinion than Jin’s, which should say everything about that relationship honestly.

“I’m pregnant.”

Taehyung freezes in places, his muscles stiffening as the words penetrate and compute into his mind before he slowly pulls away from you, face carefully blank as he looks at you. “Pregnant? Are you sure? It’s not like last time right?”

He’s talking about the incident in college, when you’d been afraid that you were pregnant as your period had come late. For a young guy, he’d been surprisingly calm about the whole thing and had been the one to buy the pregnancy test for you.

It had been negative, but you’d forever appreciate how Taehyung had become your rock of stability when the waters of your life had become rough and unstable. And right now, he was doing it again by speaking carefully and logically.

Wiping at your eyes, you nod slowly before glancing down at your hands which play in your lap. “I took a pregnant test this morning. I keep being sick in the mornings so I called in today, got the day off. Took the test. It was positive.”

Taehyung is quiet before he takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, your nose wrinkling as his lo mein smelling breath hits your face. “Did you take more than one? I don’t want this to sound callous but...it might be one of those false positives right?”

“I took three to be sure. All positive. And given the morning sickness, I’m pretty positive myself.” He licks his lips as his eyes flick all over the places, his mind evidently working at a few hundreds miles a minute.

“Okay...it’s Jin’s right? I mean, you’re not the kind to cheat but I just want to-” Reaching over, you place your fingertips over his lips and he falls silent underneath your touch. Giving him a tremulous smile, you let out a shaky breath of your own.

“Yeah it’s Jin’s. That’s why I...I mean the tears...I told him. He came over on his lunch break and...I just blurted it out. Probably not the best way.” Taehyung runs his fingers through his hair, making the carefully arranged strands fly into a mess as he does so.

“He didn’t take it well.” His voice is flat, and you can tell that he’s trying to control his emotions as carefully as he can. Taehyung hadn’t liked Jin, and he hadn’t understood why you liked him. He’d thought the lawyer was too cold and vain for someone like you, who seemed to be more interested in himself than with his own girlfriend.

You wished that you could turn round and tell him that he was wrong, but after your boyfriend, or rather ex, had coldly dumped you after giving him the news, you could only admit he was right.

“No, he didn’t. He said that someone like him couldn’t be seen to be having a child out of wedlock, because that matters in today’s world you know. And that kids were not part of his life plan yet. He said that he’d pay for an abortion if I wanted it, or if I chose to keep it then he’d pay child support. Jin’s not exactly a catch, but he’s not an idiot. He knows the law.” You say wryly, snorting attractively as you feel your nose running.

Taehyung says nothing though, simply wiping away your tears as they fall with flattened lips. “He’s an ass. A giant dick. I’m gonna kick him in his dick if I see him again. What a prick. Who goes and gets a girl pregnant after only six months then says that? God, I’m gonna call him Elsa whenever I see him because what an ice queen.”

Your best friend continues to grumble on, his anger over how your ex has treated you igniting the more he talks until you lay your own hands over his. Giving him a tentative smile, you shake your head.

“No, it’s okay Tae. As much as I’d like to cry and rage about it, I’m a fully grown woman who knew the risks of sex. I’m guessing we were the unlikely percentage where a condom breaks and my birth control fails, so this pregnancy must really have been supposed to be, huh?” You joke lightly, watching as his brows fall.

“How can you joke?” He whispers, confusion laced through every word as he leans forward and rests his head against yours. “He abandoned you Eevee, sweetheart. It’s not like he left you with a dog, it’s a baby. Lifelong commitment. Why is it fair that he gets to walk away and you’re stuck?”

You appreciate that he doesn’t even question whether you’ll get rid of it, as it’s not something you’d ever consider. If you’d been younger, then sure. But you were financially stable and had already discussed the fact that you wanted kids at some point to Tae when you’d started dating Jin.

At 30, you weren’t getting younger and while it may sound a little ridiculous to think that, it was the 21st century and there were plenty of capable single mothers out there. You didn’t particularly want to be a single mom, but you would be if you had to be. It’s be fine, right?

“It’s not fair, but what can I do about it? I already had my cry earlier. Now I just...I need my best friend please. I need to...to plan. I need to plan because...well he’s made it clear he’s not staying around. I mean...god Tae, what do I do?” You almost whine at him, a sliver of panic finally appearing to break through your calm.

“Hey, come on Eevee. You’ve been calm. You’ve been so calm. You’re an adult woman and you’re not alone.” Your bravado falters at that as tears begin to fall once more, slowly tracking down your face as you finally begin to face what you’d been so strenuously avoiding. In the space of only a few hours, your relationship had fallen apart and you were going to bring a baby into the world in only a few months.

“I am. I was. It’s just...this isn’t how I imagined it TaeTae,” You whisper, pressing your forehead to his shoulder firmly as the tears drip onto his slacks. “I just...maybe I was an idiot but I always imagined having kids with the man I love standing at my side. Watching him cry when the baby is born and seeing our child grow up in his arms. But now...it’s just me.”

Tae wraps his arms around your shoulders even tighter as he begins to rock you calmingly, pressing a gentle kiss to your hair as he does so. “I’m sorry. But...you’re not alone okay? It’s not going to go how you imagined it but...life rarely does. And you are, probably the most capable person I’ve ever met.”

He pushes you until you can see his face and gives you one of his heart warming, endearing smiles that make his eyes almost disappear as his cheeks rise. It’s only then that you can see the sheen of tears in his own eyes, letting you see how much he cares for you.

“You are going to be a great mom. And you’re not going to be alone. I can’t be that guy you talked about, but I’m damn well going to be your best friend who will do anything you need. I’ll be here for you, I’ll take you to your appointments, I’ll go to those...nasal classes or whatever they’re called,” You snort at that and interrupt with ante-natal. “Whatever. The point is. I’m here for you. I will be the best damn...non dad-dad there could ever be because I do not want my best friend to flounder, not when I can help.”

Your crying even harder at that, at the earnest expression on his face and the sincere words that fall from his lips. Shaking your head, you give him a shaky smile as you try to dissuade him, despite the sheer warmth his words make you feel.

“Tae, you can’t. I mean...you’re my best friend and we live together yeah but...I can find somewhere new. Your relationships already hate me, imagine them finding out I’m pregnant and you’re doing all this? Or you trying to bring a girl home and the baby is just screaming. You have a life too TaeTae, I can’t ruin that.” You beg, not wanting to make his life harder than it is.

He’s shaking his head in turn though, wagging his finger at you sternly. “Do not. Do not do that. Don’t isolate yourself already. You are not moving out of here, and I’m not moving out. Neither of us want to, nor do we need to. If you really think I’m going to abandon my best friend just for some pussy or dick, you’re wrong.”

Tae runs his fingers through your hair lovingly before he gives you a sweet smile. “There’s not a chance on earth I’m abandoning you now. I’ve been your best friend for 25 years. Now it’s time for me to prove that and stand by your side. You don’t have Jin, but you have Taehyung and I hope he’s just as good for you. Besides, you know I love kids and a baby, in my arms??.”

He grips his chest comically while making a funny face, trying to diffuse the moment. Letting out a choked laugh, you let him before you wrap your arms around his neck and squeeze tightly as the fear of what the future will hold and the sheer love you have for your best friend combine in an odd mix. “You’re the bestest TaeTae.”

-

The next few weeks pass by in a bizarre mix, parts of it zooming by whereas others feel like you’re stuck wading through syrup. You’d made an appointment with your doctor the very next day and Taehyung stuck to his word, attending that appointment and every one after it.

You’d been almost bombarded with information about pregnancy and the various tests and screenings that would be required. It had been a revelation to you that you’d be asked to be tested for certain diseases and other tests that were all aimed at ensuring your baby would be born in the best health possible.

There had also been plenty of advise on your lifestyle and what would change or what would need to be changed. Dietary advice and nutritional advice for what would bring the most benefit to you and your baby, along with the supplements that would keep you going.

The nerves of going to the doctor had been a little surprising, but Taehyung had been a calming presence next to you the whole time. While your mind had been jumping onto the panic button at all the information being given to you, he had been the rational one who had asked questions you wouldn’t have even considered.

What would you be advised to give up during your pregnancy? Alcohol and caffeine were no brainers - though apparently a little caffeine was okay -, but you’d been surprised to discover that it was recommended for you to give up certain cheeses along with random things like paté and liver.

It had been a little awkward when the doctor had given a smile to you both when he’d said that sex was still okay. You hadn’t even had to look at Taehyung to see the grin that he was sporting at that, and you’d half felt like pushing him off the chair.

That would have looked just a little immature though, and you’d been hoping to paint the image of someone who was totally prepared to have a baby. Because you totally weren’t, but the doctor hadn’t needed to know that.

The appointment had been rudimentary, yet it had seemed to be eye opening to Taehyung. That weekend, you’d come back from visiting your parents to break the news to find him sat on the couch with his nose firmly in a book.

Taehyung wasn’t particularly fond of reading normal books, he enjoyed his comics and manga but felt that fiction books took too much time. So it had been a surprise to find him reading what looked to be a whole tome, but a little bending over had let you see the cover.

He’d been reading a book about pregnancy, which had thrown you for a loop. It was such an expectant dad thing to do, causing you to go into the kitchen with a fuzzy feeling in your stomach at the knowledge he was genuinely trying.

As a result of the book, Taehyung had become a fountain of pregnancy related knowledge. He’d taken to cooking meals that were filled with all the nutrition you needed, which had you sitting and watching him with amusement as he wasn’t the greatest cook in the world.

His enthusiasm was adorable, but you were pretty positive he’d get tired of putting in so much effort quicker rather than later. But you’d enjoy it for now and you’d be the first to admit that his excitement was infectious.

It was purely thanks to him that you were actually kind of looking forward to this baby being born, if only to see his bright grin of happiness at getting to hold his nephew. Because Taehyung was totally going to be uncle number one.

Right now, you’re at week 9 in your pregnancy and about to have your first ultrasound. Your work was okay with your pregnancy, though they had no choice really, and you’d managed to get the afternoon off to head to your scan with relatively little fight.

You’re currently laid back in the couch thing they use, with your shirt lifted up and the top of your jeans pushed down. The sonographer is sat in the chair next to you while Taehyung sits on the other side, holding your hand tightly.

It’s stupid to worry, but you’ve been anxious that the scan might find something wrong. Or what if your baby had stopped growing? There was so many things that had run through your mind that you’d spent the night not sleeping until you’d finally got up to get into bed with Tae.

He’d been both tired and confused, but when you’d blurted out all your worries to him about what could be wrong, he’d simply wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in tight. The comforting smell of your best friend had overwhelmed you while his hands had run along your back in gentle and soothing movements.

Taehyung had been half asleep, but he’d still managed to tell you that there probably wouldn’t be anything wrong but that it was likely natural to worry. Though your fears hadn’t vanished, just the comfort of being in his arms and his calming nature had been enough to allow you to drift into a, thankfully, dreamless sleep.

As such, his hand in yours right now is yet another balm to your soul. It’s easy to see how he manages to deal in art that is worth thousands, sometimes millions, right now with his placid nature.

The sonographer gives you an amiable smile as he turns on the machine, explaining what the scan should show along with what he’ll be checking for. “I’m going to put some ultrasound gel on your stomach now okay? It might be a little cold and ticklish, but that’s okay.”

You nod and watch as he squirts the gel onto your belly before grabbing the probe and pressing it down firmly. Eye flicking to the screen, you both watch with baited breath as it flickers and shows some odd images. Until suddenly, there’s a shape you vaguely recognise from seeing other people’s ultrasounds.

Immediately, you go numb for a moment before reaching out and looking at the sonographer with wide eyes. He smiles brightly as he nods. “Yep, that’s your baby. Looking pretty healthy too. Baby has everything it should have at this point and I can’t see anything that might be a cause for worry. Do you want to hear the heartbeat too?”

You’re nodding before he’s even finished, suddenly desperate to hear that your baby is alive. It’s good being told that it’s okay, but a heartbeat says that it’s alive and here. He smiles before pressing something on the screen and shifting the probe around more before a rapid beat echoes in the room, the tiny thumps making you think of the fluttering of a hummingbird's wings bizarrely.

Pressing your hand to your mouth, a film of tears appears in your eyes as you listen to the sound of your baby living. Growing happily and safely inside your stomach. Even though you’d logically known that you’re growing a life inside you, it apparently had never properly clicked until this moment.

Looking at Taehyung, you note with fascination the tears in his own eyes as well. When his gaze catches yours, he gives you his brilliant smile before reaching out and wiping away your own tears. “Wow. My best friend is really going to be a mommy.”

The sheer love and adoration on his face and in his voice makes you choke up, causing you to look at the sonographer instead. He smiles at the two of you before going on to explain some more things to you and you listen intently.

Once he’s about to finish, you finally get the courage to ask shyly. “Can I get a picture?” He nods and presses a button on the screen, letting you know that you can pick it up at the reception desk.

After that, it’s simply a case of wiping your belly clean before making yourself look presentable again. You thank the sonographer once more before leaving to the reception, stopping by the desk where the happy receptionist brings out your picture.

She hands it to you, letting you see the black and white representation of your child and you hold it like the world’s most important treasure. It’s only from the corner of your eye that you notice her give Taehyung one as well, and his raised brows say the question for him.

“One for mommy and one for daddy.” She says with a bright, customer friendly smile. Taehyung opens his mouth to correct her but you rest your hand on his elbow, shaking your head slightly. He frowns in confusion before acknowledging your request.

As you leave, he looks at you quizzically and you just give him a soft smile. “I think the guy who’s taking on such an important role should get to keep a picture right?” Pushing away from him, you head towards your car and unlock it. You completely miss the way he grips the picture tighter and takes a shaky breath.

-

At week 15, you’ve developed a small bump that is beginning to become visible to everyone. Taehyung had been beyond excited when he realised, and you found it strange to see your stomach slowly expanding. The tightness of your jeans was particularly unwanted though, and you dreaded having to buy a whole new wardrobe just to accommodate your pregnant body.

Today, you’d gone grocery shopping to fill the cupboards that were becoming rapidly depleted. Taehyung had come along to make sure you were getting the right stuff, he meant well truly, and he’d dragged Jimin along, ruining their weekly gaming night.

Jimin had been shocked at finding out about your unplanned pregnancy, but had shown his own best friend colours by telling you that he’d be there for you if needed. It made you want to cry sometimes when you thought about how lucky you were to have such phenomenal friends.

But right now, Jimin was kind of being a bad friend by trying to convince you to buy junk food. Normally, you ate pretty healthily and only indulged in things on the odd occasion. However you currently had Jimin wrapped around your frame to point out the bags of chips that lined the shelves, or the bars of chocolate opposite.

“Come on. You’re eating for two right? So what does it matter?” He whines at you, making you wonder whether he was wanting you to buy the snacks for yourself or so he could steal them. Raising a brow at him, you shake your head with a smile as you grab a jumbo bag of Doritos and place it into the cart.

“For you, greedy. I’m not at the stage of craving things yet. At least I think.” You muse, wondering when exactly that is supposed to start. As far as you were aware, you hadn’t experienced any but you were almost hoping to later on. What’s a pregnancy without getting some sort of craving right?

Jimin snickers however, following along with that loping swagger of his. It’s almost unfair how beautiful Taehyung and him are, and you eye him for a moment. Skin tight black jeans adorn his defined thighs while a stylish black leather jacket is draped over his shoulders, topping a white shirt while a maroon beanie is placed over his dark hair.

He’s always been the most stylish mother fucker in the room, and you desperately wish you could have his fashion sense. Unfortunately, it comes with a few thousand dollar price tag and you most definitely can’t afford that. Particularly now.

Turning around the aisle, you stop as you spy Taehyung stood further down as he looks between the two bottles in his hand. The sign above says that this is the nutrition aisle, and you watch with a fond smile at the frown of concentration on his brow.

Jimin pauses next to you, dumping the bag of gummy bears he’d picked up into the cart before looking at Taehyung as well. Smiling softly, he lets out a breathy laugh as he slings an arm over your shoulders.

“You know, he’s really excited about all this. More excited than I think he should be.” He murmurs quietly, so as not to bring attention to the both of you. Looking up at him, your brows dip together questioningly.

“What do you mean?” His face becomes serious and you feel your stomach flip at the sight. Jimin is the person who knows Taehyung the best outside of you, and in ways that only guys can know. Despite being best friends for so long, there’s some things that you and Tae have never discussed.

“Just...be careful with him okay? You know Taehyung. He feels strongly in ways people normally don’t. He’s...you know he’s going to get attached. Hell, he keeps that ultrasound picture in his wallet.” Running your hand over your stomach, you stroke the bump that contains your teeny, tiny baby and ruminate over Jimin’s words.

Taehyung has always loved deeply and strongly. It’s what makes him the perfect best friend as he’s so unbelievably loyal, but it also means he gets hurt so easily. You’ve lost count of the partners he’s fallen for that have broken this special soul.

“I’m not...I’m not going to leave him or anything. I mean...not that we’re in a relationship,” You flush at that, even though it’s a question you both deflect often. But it feels a bit awkward now. “He’s my best friend Jimin, I’m not just going to abandon him. Especially not now. I...god I hate to admit it, but I need him.”

Jimin smiles brightly before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I know. But...be careful okay? You deserve happiness, and if a guy comes along and makes you happy then I’ll support that. But Tae...it’ll be hard for him to let you and the baby go in that case. Look at him. He’s acting like a dad, not a BFF.”

You stand in shocked silence at that, turning back to Tae who finally spots you both. Immediately, a brilliant smile takes over his face as he holds up the bottles. “Which one do you think you should have? Both have all the nutrients you need…”

He continues on and you simply watch him, feeling Jimin’s warmth next to you and anchoring you in the present. “I get what you mean Jimin, but he’s not stupid. He knows the lines. Maybe I’m being selfish but...I guess I’m glad someone is willing to act like a dad, you know?”

Walking forwards, you leave Jimin to watch you both as you take both bottles from Taehyung’s hands and read the labels yourself. You don’t see the way Jimin’s gaze trains on the both of you, focusing on the way Taehyung’s hand rests on your lower back while you almost lean into him.

He’s well aware that the two of you harbour no romantic feelings towards each other right now, and yet if anyone looked right now, they’d think exactly that. A boyfriend, being caring and supportive towards his pregnant girlfriend. “Oh Tae. Please don’t get too hurt.”

-

Looking over the ante-natal class acceptance email, you carefully input the class details into your shared calendar with Taehyung. He’d found a whole list of classes that would suit you and were at times that both you and he could attend. It had taken a quick query to get some dates confirmed, but you were pleased that you’d sorted that out before it would become impossible.

You seemed to have pregnancy brain lately, which often meant you’d forget the simplest things. It was incredibly annoying, even if it made Taehyung chuckle.

The classes weren’t going to be until towards the latter half of your pregnancy, giving you plenty of time to get prepared and research on what you could expect from them. Leaning back in your chair, you let out a deep breath and wince while rubbing your lower back slowly, hating the backache you seem to be plagued with lately.

The nausea had vanished a few weeks ago, but now you seemed to be reaping the bad sides of growing another human inside you with the almost constant backache. Not to mention your boobs that were growing. Some guys might think that’s great, but it just seemed to be adding to the aches and pains you were getting.

And you were going to have to buy new bras dammit!

But overall, things were going pretty well. You’d had another ultrasound last week at 16 weeks and had been given the all clear once more. Taehyung had wondered if you would try to find out the sex, but you were determined for it to be a surprise. What if they told you and it turned out to be wrong?

The door slamming closed distracts you from your laptop and you roll your head on the back of the couch to watch for Taehyung walking in. He does so quickly, with a bag in his hands and you’re momentarily reminded of when you’d told him. This time, he’s actually wearing a pair of jeans along with a white button up shirt but it’s the carton of ice cream in his hands that you care about most.

Reaching out, you perform grabby hands and he chuckles lightly as he flops onto the cushion next to you, one leg curled up under the other. Holding it in front of your face, he dances it for a few moments before placing it into your hands with the spoon he’d grabbed from the kitchen.

“You’re lucky. That’s the last Chunky Monkey they had in the store.” He says, a boyish smile taking over his face while his eyes crinkle in happiness as you delve into it. Leaning into your space, you watch as his blonde locks take up your field of vision while he takes a look at your laptop screen.

“Oooh, the classes are booked?” He takes the laptop from you and scrolls through the calendar before clicking onto the email. You shuffle closer to him and lean against his solid arm, resting your head on his warm shoulder while you continue to spoon ice cream into your mouth.

“This is good, I can work around these for you. Oh, and your mom called me because apparently someone’s phone died?” He teases, wrapping an arm around your own shoulders before he pokes at your ribs gently. You wriggle and pout, eyes flickering to the black screen of your smartphone on the coffee table.

“She wants to know if we’re going to theirs for dinner on Sunday. I think they want to get baby updates too or something, I don’t know. Or maybe she just wants to see my handsome face. And we can see my parents too!” He grins cheekily, placing one hand on his face in half a flowerboy pose.

Laughing, you nod in acknowledgement and watch as he begins to text your mom one handed. Your parents love Taehyung, and they’d been both happy and unbelievably choked up when they’d found out he was stepping up where Jin had failed. His own parents had been an odd mix of pride that he was such a good person and trepidation at the fact he was willingly giving up a lot for you. Which was understandable.

Given they still lived next to each other, it was only logical that you could both see your parents while giving them baby updates. You knew that Tae had excitedly sent pictures of the ultrasound to his parents.

Jimin’s words from weeks ago pass through your mind as you watch him play on his phone quietly and a hint of a frown touches your brows. Given how close Taehyung was being to this pregnancy, were his parents confused as to whether they should feel closer to you and the baby? Or were they just ignoring it and hoping their son wouldn’t throw his life away too?

“We should decide on the nursery by the way. I mean...we don’t have actually have space in this place for one. We’ve only got our bedrooms so...what do we do? Do you want to look for somewhere new?” He asks suddenly, dropping his phone into his lap while shifting slightly to look at you.

He’s close at this point, with his warm, chocolate eyes focused firmly on you. His wispy blonde hair covers the dark, serious brows and without even thinking you move his hair away to let them free. Taehyung’s always had a strong brow, and it’s almost frightening how he changes from cute with a fringe to walking sex when his forehead is free.

It was his go to look when he was going out and there’s a bizarre moment where you wonder what Taehyung’s child would look like. He has a superior bone structure, and you wondered if his kids would inherit it as well. There’s almost a slight pang in your heart at the knowledge your baby won’t have it.

Shaking your head, you look away from his serious gaze and rest your palm against your racing heart, wondering why you’re getting those weird thoughts and feelings.

“Err...no. We can’t afford a place with three rooms. Not without getting another job. And I’m going to be on maternity so we’ll be earning even less. I think this is probably the most we can afford. I can just...put the crib in my room.” Taehyung looks at your closely with raised brows.

“Really? Your baby is going to need space on its own at some point. Kids need their own space. And parents definitely need their own. You can take my room, I’ll just...use the couch until we can get a bigger place.” He offers and you recoil, appalled that he could be okay with the idea of sleeping on the couch for months on end.

“No way! You can’t give up your room Tae! How is that fair?” You pout at him, nuzzling your head into his neck. He laughs quietly and rubs your shoulder gently, pressing his nose into your hair.

“Okay...compromise then. We get rid of my bed, we put two singles in my room. And we try to save money so that we can get a bigger place. No one sleeps on the couch. Sound good?” You stay quiet for a moment as the carton of ice cream makes your thigh almost numb from the cold, but you’re too busy drawing silly patterns on his own thigh.

“What about your love life? I’m sure they’re going to be real happy coming back to find another woman in your room and a baby in the apartment.” Taehyung snorts at that and lifts up your chin with the tips of his fingers, giving you a sardonic look.

“Do you genuinely think I’m going to get my dick wet in this apartment when your baby is here? No way. Eww…this is your baby’s home just as much as yours and mine. I’d never do that to you.” You scan his face and note how completely earnest his expression is. Whether that means he’s just not going to get laid, or he’s just not bringing them back, you feel an odd sense of gratitude towards him.

“Okay. We turn my room into a nursery. But we’ll sort your room out at a later point okay? I don’t think we really have the money to buy two single beds right now.” You murmur and he nods slowly, his fingers finding your own and twining with them slowly. Smiling, you bump your head against his shoulder as you admire his long and elegant fingers that dance with your own.

“Awesome. Can I decorate it?” Taehyung’s voice is quiet and deep, yet you can practically hear the excitement vibrating in it. Laughing lightly you nod, wondering what he’d be planning. He knew that you wanted it gender neutral, but that could encompass anything and Taehyung was a phenomenal artist himself.

Watching him as he begins to become even more animated than normal as he explains his ideas, hand gesturing while his eyes light up with inspiration. A soft smile paints itself onto your lips as you feel a completely sense of contentment and happiness wash over you.

Taehyung is always handsome, but when he talks about something he’s passionate about he becomes quite possibly the most beautiful man in the world.

A sudden influx of emotion tightens your lungs as you watch him and you frown, rubbing at your chest slowly before you feel little bubbles erupt in your stomach. Your hand moves down to your stomach idly until it happens again and you suddenly jerk in Taehyung’s arm, causing him to stop and look at you with an anxious frown.

“What is it? What’s wrong? Is it the baby?” The questions come thick and fast, peppered into the conversation like tiny bullets of worry and you shake your head slowly. Running your hand over your bump, you smile as you feel the slightest movement in your tummy and immediately grab his own to place it over your firm stomach.

“What are yo-...” He stops suddenly, eyes widening almost comically while his jaw drops. He obviously can’t feel it but you can tell that he understands what you’re feeling, as the little smattering of bubbles ignites in your stomach again. “Oh my god. Is that...is it moving?” Taehyung whispers reverently, looking at your expanding belly with a sense of wonder and awe.

You nod slowly, the smile spreading on your own face when he’s suddenly laughing out loud and his own grin taking over his whole face. “Oh my god! That’s so...I mean it...sweetheart that’s...oh my god!” He can’t even get his words out as he fingers stroke the soft skin of your hardened belly.

Anything you might say vanishes when he suddenly cups your face and begins to kiss all over, his soft lips pressing to your cheeks, your forehead, your temples and even your eyes in his excitement. The giggles you let out are high pitched and full of cheer as he does so, the two of you experiencing something intimate and heart warming.

As he wraps his arms around your neck and hugs you tightly, even more kisses being pressed to your hair, you feel a warm feeling of bliss take over your body as his embrace. At least you never have to worry about your baby being loved.

-

A ruckus by the door interrupts your sleep from where you’d been dozing on the couch and you jerk slightly, sluggishly pushing yourself up onto your elbow while rubbing at your eyes. At 30 weeks pregnant, you felt tired a lot and often end up napping wherever you were, which was exactly what had happened when you’d sat down to rest for a few moments.

Loud voices soon follow and you blink blearily as Taehyung enters the room, holding a big box while Jungkook and Jimin follow soon after with their arms laden with boxes and bags. For a moment, your eyes track their bulging biceps with intrigue, noting that they’re just wearing plain t-shirts today.

It’s only then that you realise they both look remarkably casual which has you frowning slightly. Running a hand over your stomach, you see that even Jimin is just wearing a pair of grey sweats that pair with his white shirt nicely. But it’s Taehyung’s exceptionally lazy look that has your brows raising in surprise.

“What are you doing?” You ask, pushing yourself up off the couch and heading over to them. A tiny little tapping in your belly lets you know that your baby currently has hiccups and you tap in response happily, giving a soft, secretive smile.

Glancing back up, you note Taehyung’s eyes focused on you intently for a moment, gaze on your hand before it flickers back up to your eyes. Immediately he’s beaming at you as he holds up the box in his hand.

“The crib arrived! I got the email this morning so I asked if these two were free so we can do the nursery now if that’s okay?” He asks, a brow quirking in question as his head tilts endearingly. Smiling at him, you nod happily.

Immediately, the three head into your room and you stand in the doorway as you watch. You’d cleared out your room a few days ago with Taehyung’s help. Okay, it was mainly Taehyung clearing it out for you while you directed him but still. It was pretty much empty and ready to be turned into the room for your baby.

For now, you were sharing a bed with Taehyung until you both scrounged up the money to buy single beds. You’d both done it plenty enough over the years that it wasn’t too weird, but he got a little squirmy at the idea of accidentally hurting the baby or something in his sleep.

If anything, all he’d done was end up wrapped around your body tightly as he slept. Every morning, you’d woken up to him touching you in some way. Whether it was curled around you, his front to your chest or simply with his hand resting on your stomach while he slept on his side. It was adorable and you spent a few minutes every morning, just enjoying the peaceful and calming experience.

“Okay, let’s build the crib first and then we’ll move it into the centre of the room and paint the walls yeah?” Jimin says, a hand on his hip as he looks around. Jungkook produces a bunch of painting tools from one of the bags before pulling out a tin of paint. Heading over, you take the tin and turn it in your hands, a pleased smile taking over at the soft yellow colour.

You’d both discussed what colour the nursery should be and it was pleasant to note he’d managed to pick the perfect colour that would be perfect for either a baby boy or a baby girl. Suddenly, Taehyung is bounding up to you and gently pushing you out, his hand running along the small of your back with soft movements.

“You need to leave, I don’t know what paint fumes will do to you or something. You keep getting sick from random smells so...maybe you could go take a walk or something?” Considering him for a moment, you sigh barely nodding and heading over to the entranceway. He goes with you and helps you into your shoes, tying up the laces before looking up at you with a big, gummy smile. “Be careful. I’ll text when we’re done.”

Taehyung closes the door behind you carefully and you stare at it for a moment before heading out, wondering where you could go for a few hours. Somewhere where there’s plenty of places to sit, as you often find yourself getting a little tired lately and you decide on the local farmers market.

It’s a small place that you’d both discovered a few months after moving in and it had been a true haven of cheap, yet good quality, vegetables and fruit that were cheaper than the supermarkets surprisingly. There were also stalls that sold handmade items of various styles, and it’s here that you discover an adorable fluffy blanket that you know would look perfect in the baby’s crib.

It’s a soft yellow with tiny fluffy kittens and puppies bounding around while little stars and moons dot the spaces inbetween them. You have basically zero willpower when you see it and find yourself handing over money immediately while the stall owner folds it and places it into a bag for you.

Another stall finds you buying a bunch of tiny kitten and puppy figurines that are stylised from wood and painted so carefully, figuring that you could decorate a dresser with them and another produces a cute mobile that will hang carefully. It’s a bunch of tiny planets and stars, and you like the idea of your baby being able to see stars when they wake up.

It’s only when you realise that your shoulders are aching from the weight of the bags that you wonder if you should head back. It’d taken you half an hour to walk here, and the prospect of walking back is daunting.

Glancing over to the food stalls, you bite your lip and decide that you’ll make the guys your famous tomato chilli pasta and garlic bread. You seemed to have avoided the heartburn that spicy food could apparently cause in pregnant women, and you had a sudden craving for the delicious looking, fresh chillies on display.

A quick visit to all the different stalls found you with even more bags, full of fresh vegetables and meat. With a satisfied smile, you walk back to your apartment with slow steps and an aching back. In fact, by the time you finally place the bags on the kitchen counter, you’re pressing on your back firmly with a wince.

“What are you doing! Oh my god! Did you walk the whole way here with those bags? Why didn’t you call me? Or call a taxi?!” Taehyung frets over you, his hands fluttering along your stomach before he’s rubbing at your back. You can’t even find it in yourself to get annoyed at his fussing when his hands feel so good and when he presses on a particular spot, you let out a soft moan as you lean back into him.

“I thought I’d be okay. But look! I got stuff for chilli pasta and look at all the cute baby things I bought.” You gush, pulling out the items one after another carefully. Immediately Taehyung is looking them all over, running his fingers over the soft blanket while he looks at the figures closely with an excited smile.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he grins brightly as presses a kiss to your hair. “Oh my god! This is gonna match the nursery perfectly. Come and look! We’ve almost finished painting it and then Jungkook and I are gonna paint a mural or something on it.”

He tugs you over to the room by your hand, his fingers entwined with your own and you gape at the room with incredulous eyes. The once cream coloured walls are now a soft yellow that is cheerful and calming while the white crib Taehyung and you had picked out is fully built in the centre.

Running back to the kitchen, you come back and carefully place it onto the tiny mattress while Taehyung sets up the mobile at the edge. Once finished, you both step back while his arm wraps around your waist once more, the edges of his fingers rubbing along your bump lovingly as your heart clenches with emotion.

“It looks perfect Tae!” You whisper, hugging him as tightly as your belly will let you. The room stinks of paint and it makes you feel the slightest bit nauseous while you watch Jungkook put the finishing touches on the wall he’s painting.

The younger man has an endearing blob of yellow paint on his cheek and you giggle lightly at it before noting the prim and proper Jimin is currently daubed in paint all over his body. He stands up from where he’d been crouched before coming over and taking your hand with a friendly smile.

“Let’s go cook yeah? It stinks in here and I have no artistic skill.” He teases, sticking his tongue out at the other two as Jungkook gives him a sarcastic salute. In the kitchen, Jimin begins to take all the pots and pans that you’ll need to cook out from their hiding places before pulling the ingredients out of the bags.

You take over cutting the vegetables to make the sauce while he begins to cook the minced beef, turning it over to ensure it’s browning nicely. The atmosphere is quiet, yet you can feel a little tension in him for some reason.

“Is something wrong?” You ask quietly, voice a little unsure as to what his reaction is going to be. While he’d been nothing but supportive of you during your pregnancy, there had always been something about Jimin that made it feel like he wasn’t being approving.

He turns over the meat in silence before letting out a sigh so deep, his shoulders physically fall as he grips either side of the stove. “Yes. And no.” Is all he says and you frown in confusion, wondering what’s wrong with him.

Placing the knife in your hands down, you head over and placed a hand against his arm in worry, running your fingers along him reassuringly. “Is it anything I can help with?”

Jimin stays silent for a moment before letting out a slightly strained laugh, shaking his head until his hair falls into his eyes. You’re not sure what to say until he tips his head back, the lean column of his neck all you can see for a moment as he showcases an expanse of golden skin.

“You’re going to destroy him. You know that?” It’s said so quietly that you almost don’t hear and you have to lean forward, until you register the words. Stilling, you note that he looks at you with a combination of love and exasperation.

Jimin points at your stomach before his eyes track back up to yours, holding your gaze firmly. “That is something we are all excited for. Jungkook, me, your parents, your friends. But Taehyung especially. But that is not his child. And the more that you continue to let this happen, the more it is going to hurt him when something happens.”

You step back away from him in shock at that, a hand placed over your stomach protectively as your brows almost meet in your befuddlement. “What do you mean? Why? What would happen?”

He laughs lightly and shakes his head once more, turning to face you. “I saw you both. In here. The way he holds you. The way he looks at you. That is more than someone should be feeling for their friend, and it scares me for him. You’re not treating him like your best friend anymore. You’re treating him like the father of your child. You even let him pick the name for god’s sake.”

An instant flashback to the night that you’d presented him with the list of boy and girl names you’d decided on runs through your head. You’d spent weeks on the list, finally coming up with five each that could be used, but you were stuck after that.

“Here. What do you think about these names?” You ask, thrusting your phone screen in Taehyung’s face abruptly. He lets out a noise of disgruntlement when you interrupt his game but pauses amiably, taking the phone from you to read through them.

Once done, he looks at you with barely contained excitement, his eyes practically sparkling with happiness. “You’ve got a short list? Already?!”

At that, you playfully slap his arm. “What do you mean, already? I’m 29 weeks! There’s like...11 weeks left until the baby arrives, as long as it arrives on time and not early! Anyway, I can’t pick one out of those. I like them all. I could have any of them.” You mumble, leaning your head against his shoulder while you wrap your arms around his own arm.

The rumble of his laugh vibrates through to you and you can’t help but smile at the lovely sound. “Okay? So what do you want me to do?” He asks jovially, scrolling back to the top of the list of names and reading through them again.

For a moment, you say nothing and bite your lip as you let the background music of his game fill the silence between you both. Inhaling, you finally decide to just ask. “I want you to pick.”

Immediately, he stiffens in your arms before looking at you with eyes that are like plates. “What? You want me...to pick the name of your baby??” He asks, his voice laced with more than just a little incredulousness.

“Yeah. I mean. I know I’m going to be a single mom but...you’ve been with me through it all. Normally, it would be me deciding with the dad. But the dad doesn’t want to be here so...I want you to decide with me.” Taehyung is thrown for a loop as he looks back at the phone, staring at the names with new eyes.

“Eevee, sweetheart. That’s...that’s a big thing.” He sounds almost choked with emotion, the knowledge that you’d let him do something as big as choosing the name of your child. The name your child would likely have for its entire life.

Nuzzling your face into his neck, you press a gentle kiss to the soft skin there before smiling to yourself. “Yes it is. And I can’t think of anyone better than you, Kim Taehyung.”

You can’t see him, but you feel him swallowing thickly and you have no doubt that he’s probably got tears about to fall at your words. Your best friend has always been the sentimental type, and something like this is sure to get his waterworks going.

“Okay then...I pick…”

“Well...yeah. He’s been a huge help Jimin. That’s the least I could have done to thank him for being here for me.” You mutter, arms wrapping around yourself protectively. He notes your stance and sighs, reaching forward to bring you into his arms gently.

“I get that. I do. And he really is. But you...the two of have always been so close. Like, there’s no surprise that every relationship had issues because of your friendship. But this? This is a whole new level. You’re not acting like best friends anymore. You’re acting like two people who are very much in love with each other.” Recoiling at his words, you try to pull out of his arms only to find his hands resting on your shoulders firmly.

“Think. Think hard on this. Please. You need to decide if you’re in love with him because you genuinely love Kim Taehyung. And by that, I mean that you want to be with him romantically, build a life together because it sure as hell looks like you are now. Or...you need to decide if you just love the idea of a having a father for your child.” You succeed at breaking free from him at that point, moving away from him with a conflicted expression.

Opening your mouth to speak, he shakes his head firmly and points at you. “No. You need to listen. Someone needs to say something before it gets too much. I understand if you’re wanting a father. Jin abandoned you, and you’ve never really wanted to raise a kid alone. And Taehyung will be more than willing to be that father if you need him to be. But you have to consider him too. That man has feelings for you, that are not platonic and they are not sympathetic. Not anymore. He has feelings that have nothing to do with that baby.”

Turning to the vegetables you’re cutting, you frown deeply as tears slowly begin to fall down your face. The silence is almost deafening and your hand presses to your chest firmly, rubbing at the space where your heart clenches in a combination of pain and panic.

The warm presence of Jimin suddenly presses to your back as he wraps his arms around your front, resting his head against your own in a manner that’s surprisingly comforting despite his words. “Hey. I’m not saying it to hurt you. I’m saying it to make you realise. Taehyung has never wanted to date you, but I’m 99% positive he would’ve never said no either.”

Placing a hand over one of Jimin’s own, you rub at the soft skin quietly as your mind races to catch up with everything. Finally you speak, letting your voice crack slightly with emotion. “What if you’re wrong though? And he just wants to be a dad without the relationship drama?”

Jimin laughs behind you, his body jerking against your own while your hair blows from his breath. “Believe me. With the way he looks at you now, that’s not an issue. I just...need you to know. To think. What happens if he thinks of himself as the father of your child, only for you to find some guy who takes that position? He’s setting himself up for hurt, and I don’t want that. Just as much as I don’t want you to get hurt either. You both need to sort this out, before the baby arrives.”

Anything you might say after that vanishes as you hear the outraged yell of Jungkook from the nursery, followed quickly by the mischievous laughter of Taehyung. Your stomach bubbles slightly, the feeling nothing to do with your baby for once as you consider Jimin’s words.

Maybe it’s because you didn’t want to look at it, but you’d purposefully avoided the way you’d both become more intimate over the previous months. The way platonic, quick touches slowly became more and friendly gazes became longing glances. The way you’d become more intimate with each other without even realising, the cuddles and the innocent kisses on arms, hands, necks and temples.

Becoming friends with Taehyung had been incredibly easy, sliding into the best friend role with Taehyung had been the simplest thing in the world. You shouldn’t have been surprised that crossing that romantic line had also been as straightforward as everything else in your relationship.

Now, you just had to decide if you wanted to try and cross that finally boundary officially. To see if Taehyung really did have these feelings that Jimin thought he did. To see if he wanted to have you as more than just a friend. Even though you were pregnant with another man’s child, you had to find out if he wanted you and your child.

Ironically, even though you were preparing to bring a child into the world in a few weeks, you found that this was perhaps the scariest thing you would ever do.

-

It’s two weeks later that you finally pluck the courage to ask Taehyung on a date. But you’re so nervy and worried about his reaction, the possible reaction making you feel as queasy as you had during your morning sickness, that you’re half tempted to call it off.

To make it even worse, you were pretty sure that he had no idea that this was even a date. Which was probably because you’d just mumbled out a request for him to go to the movies with you and then have dinner. It felt unbelievably childish for someone who was 30, but you couldn’t think of anything better.

If anything, the movie would at least let you have a solid two hours to build up the courage to ask. Which is exactly what you’d done, letting him eat the entire bag of popcorn to himself. It couldn’t be that hard to confess you were in love with someone, surely?

‘Hey Tae, I know I’m knocked up with another man’s child, but do you want to be my boyfriend?’ No that’s dumb.

‘So, I think I’m in love with you and was wondering if you are too?’ Wow, presumptuous much?

‘Would you be my boyfriend?’ Jesus, what were you? Twelve?

“Hellooooo? Are we leaving? I’m pretty sure this film has no after-credits scenes.” Taehyung says, waving his hand in front of your face. It’s only then that you realise the film has finished and you’d been staring blankly at the screen as the credits roll up.

“Oh, err...sorry. Pregnancy brain.” You smile, waving a hand in the air as you thank the baby in your belly for the excuse. Following him out of the theatre, you have to work hard to regulate your breathing as your hands shake when you enter the restaurant you’d both decided on.

There’s a bit of a wait, and you sit on the complimentary couch while Taehyung goes to grab you both drinks. It’s a nice restaurant, not too fancy, and you’re pleased that no one seems to be judging you by the lack of wedding band and prominent bump.

Still though, you’re deep in your mind as you contemplate what to say to your best friend to possibly move your relationship forward, you’re paralysed by the fear that you could be wrong. What if he didn’t want to be with you? What if you make a fool of yourself so badly that he decides to move out?

What if it all goes wrong?

You’re so in your own head that you don’t even notice the person sitting next to you until he suddenly waves a hand in your face. It reminds you so much of Taehyung that you look up with a smile until you register the face with a slight curdling feeling in your stomach.

“Jin.” Is all you can say, as it’s all you can get out right then. You never expected to see him again, much less in this random restaurant. A hand rests protectively on your stomach as you lean away from him while you look for Taehyung a little desperately, wanting to get away from your ex as quickly as possible.

“Yeah. Wow, I didn’t expect to see you here. I’m here with a few work colleagues and just saw you. I mean...you’re pretty big now.” Immediately you’re scowling and he’s holding his hands up, cringing slightly. “I didn’t mean it badly. I just...you look good.”

You don’t respond and simply stay silent as you stare at him, wanting him to just go away and leave you alone. Jin had his chance, and he lost it. Even just the sight of him makes your stomach turn with anger, though part of you tracks over his face and wonders what part of him your child will get.

“I’m not looking to suddenly push myself into your life. I still...don’t want kids. And I know, I’m a dick.” He pauses and looks at you seriously. “I’ll pay my child support, just let me know when it’s born.”

Standing up abruptly, you look at him with a carefully blank expression despite the fire bubbling inside you. “I’m sorry Jin, I can’t do this right now. I just...not now.” You whisper, conflicted as to how you were supposed to feel. How on earth had you ever found this man attractive?

He was attractive, yes. But so was Taehyung. And Taehyung had the sweetest, most beautiful soul in the world to match it. Jin was just...he was wrong. Laughing slightly, you ignore Jin’s raised brow as you realise that you had almost walked blindly into a bad situation with Jin.

Once, you’d thought he might be the one. Now you knew that he wasn’t even on the list. You weren’t interested in causing an incident here with him though, and instead you turn round to find Taehyung.

To find him staring at you with wide eyes, and oddly hurt look on his face as his gaze flickers between you and the man sat behind you. Stepping forwards towards him for a moment, you reach out and watch as he places the drinks in his hands on a random table before moving over to you.

“Can we just leave? Let’s order takeout.” He mutters, taking your hand and leaving the restaurant quickly. You don’t even get chance to say anything to him as you follow him out, turning your head to watch as Jin follows your movements with a curiously satisfied expression.

“Tae...what’s wrong?” You ask, confusion riddled in your voice at his actions. You’ve not been his best friend for over 26 years for no reason, and you can tell that he’s upset over something. Though what, you have no idea.

He gives you no response until you’re both safely in your apartment again, you toeing off your shoes before sitting on the couch with a heavy exhale. Taehyung stands at the entrance and watches you quietly as your head hits the back, eyes closing as a wave of tiredness suddenly takes over.

You don’t hear him as he pads over, his sock laden feet ghosting over the floorboard, but you do feel him as the couch dips next to you. The atmosphere is oddly tense, and you recognise that it has nothing to do with your anxious, hopeful feelings. It has everything to do with whatever has annoyed Taehyung.

And it normally takes a lot to annoy Taehyung.

Opening your eyes slowly, you blink bearily before looking over at your best friend. He’d dyed his hair back to black a few weeks ago and it’s almost strange to see him with his natural hair now, the colouring making his skin glow even more.

In the soft lighting of the lamp that you’d turned on next to the couch, you look over his face with interest. He’d always been a handsome boy when you were younger, but he’d been gangly. It had only been in his late teen years that he’d finally filled into his face, and only in his twenties that he’d developed the manlier face he has now.

With an elegant, straight nose and astonishingly delicate facial structure, you often wonder in amazement how such a beautiful man could possibly be your best friend. Unsurprisingly, he’s had men and women lusting over him for years, and yet those soft, crescent eyes are always filled with such friendliness that they practically sparkle with personality.

For years, you’d acknowledged your best friends attractiveness with a detached sense, almost as if you could see his beauty but didn’t feel anything for him. You’d watch the guys and girls drool over him with amusement, feeling pride that he was desired by so many.

And yet, there had still remained a tiny part of you that had been intrigued by him. You’d never touched it, nor had you ever even considered it, as pursuing Taehyung would have meant the possibility of losing his friendship. What if you started dating and then it all went to crap?

No, Tae had remained in the friendzone and he’d kept you there too.

But maybe...maybe Jimin was right. And Taehyung would be open to a relationship with you. You were already so close, it wouldn’t take a huge amount to shuffle over that line. If the last few months had taught you anything, it was that you could rely on Taehyung when times were tough, and you wanted him to know that he could rely on you too.

Which was why you needed to help resolve whatever issue was upsetting him now. There was no way you could broach that you wanted to move further when he wasn’t happy.

Reaching forward, you take his hand gently between your own and rub at his fingers soothingly. He looks down at the movement blankly for a moment before a tiny smile takes over, almost sad, and it makes your heart hurt.

Shuffling over, you cuddle up to his shoulder while you massage the joints of his long fingers, the feel of his smooth skin pleasant underneath your fingertips. “What’s wrong TaeTae?” You kept your voice soft, with just a hint of cajoling underneath it to get him to answer, letting him know that you’re willing to be serious but just as playful if necessary.

He’s holding himself stiffly and he doesn’t respond, simply staring at your hands before letting out a sigh that sounds like he’s been holding the woes of the world on his shoulders. “It’s stupid.” He mumbles, shaking his head before running his hand over his face tiredly.

“Hey, if it’s worrying you then it’s not stupid. Tell me. You know that you can tell me anything.” Tae looks at you for a moment, his warm brown eyes focused firmly on you and you can see the conflict as he fights with himself. Hesitantly, he licks his lips before placing his other hand on yours.

“I’m sorry. I just...I ruined our night and I mean...it’s dumb. You don’t need this stress this late.” He eyes your stomach before returning his gaze to his hands, stroking his thumb over your fingers gently. Thankfully, you’re not too bloated today.

Shaking your own head, you pull a hand free to cup his cheeks, providing him with physical support. Looking deep into your eyes, he sighs before letting his head dip forward and you watch as his fringe hides his eyes.

“I’m sorry, again. I turned round and saw Jin and it was like...it was like...like I was watching everything I’d built up in my mind slip through my fingers.” His words are so quiet that you can barely hear, the deep timbre of his voice almost just a vibration underneath your touch.

Frowning deeply, you lean even closer into his space as you lift up his head, catching his gaze closely. “What do you mean? I don’t understand Tae…” You trail off, bewildered as to what he was talking about.

He watches you quietly before laughing almost sarcastically, moving a hand to rest against your firm stomach. Almost immediately, your baby kicks out and you watch as Taehyung’s hand moves with the tiny movement.

A happy smile takes over his face as he lets his fingers run over your stomach but you note the tears in his eyes. “When I said that I’d be there for you when Jin left...I meant it. But I meant it as a best friend. I didn’t want you to be alone. And I still think that. But it...I...my feeli-...”

Frustrated, he tugs at his hair as he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees and you simply watch for a moment, his silk shirt straining over his broad shoulders. A choked laugh leaves him before he turns back, irritation at things you can’t even understand etched into his face before he lifts one of your hands to his lips, kissing the back sweetly.

“Jimin was right. I’m an idiot. I didn’t mean to, but over these weeks with you...I’ve felt closer to you than I ever have. And this baby...god sweetheart...in my head, I feel like I’m the daddy. But seeing you with Jin tonight...made me realise I was wrong. That was just my fantasy and the reality is that I’m just your best friend.” Looking at you with earnest eyes, he ignores the tear that tracks down his cheek slowly.

“I’m not leaving you, and I’m not abandoning you. Not this close. I’m here for you in any way you need me. But...I have to take a step back Eevee, I do. Because I don’t feel like your best friend anymore, and I don’t think I want to be just your best friend anymore either. I want to be the guy you wake up with every day, not just now. I want to be the guy you hold hands with, hug and kiss. I want to be this baby’s daddy very much. But I’m not.” His voice cracks and you get the strongest urge to wrap your arms around him tightly.

“And seeing Jin. It made me realise how fragile this dumb fantasy is. Because it’s all just in my head. It’s not real. And some guy is going to come along, and love you and you will love them and they’ll take you and this baby. I’ll be left behind, and I can’t say a thing. I can’t do that sweetheart, I don’t think my heart could take losing you both like that. Not now. Not when I love you so much.” He looks down, avoiding your eyes as his lips quiver and you sit in stunned silence for a moment.

Taehyung...loves you? “You love me? Like...not as a best friend?” You whisper, nerves causing your leg to jump repeatedly. His cheeks flush in response as he nods his head.

“I mean I do, but...more. And it’s not because you’re pregnant. I’d have dated you at any time if you’d asked, but you never seemed interested. But now...god. You’re perfect you know? The way you smile when you’re reading a book you like, the way your eyes almost wrinkle when you’re laughing at the TV, the little snores you do while you sleep. How brave you’ve been during this whole pregnancy and how strong you are. It’s felt I’m falling in love with a goddess...untouchable.” He snorts slightly, running his fingers through his hair.

You stare at him for a moment, taking in the way his shoulders hunch almost protectively as he waits for the blow to both his ego and his feelings. And yet you feel like a weight has been lifted off yours, in fact for the first time in months you feel genuinely happy. Almost giddy with excitement.

Wiggling in your seat slightly, you note his incredulous look as he scans over your body before you’re cupping his cheeks and squishing until he looks 10 years younger. His strong brows come together as he gives you a ‘wtf?’ look but you can’t help yourself as you give him the biggest and brightest smile.

“You silly, beautiful, adorable, funny, charming and loveable man. I’ve spent two weeks fretting over how to tell you that I love you and ask you if you’d want to try a relationship with me and then you blurt this all out because you’re jealous! Oh TaeTae, baby, there’s been no one but you for the last few months. Probably the last few years if we’re being realistic but neither of us realised. I mean...I’m not exactly a great catch right now but...I’m more than happy to have you if you’re willing to have me and the interloper on board?” You say, starting out bold before ending shyly as you glance down at your expanded stomach.

Taehyung is silent beneath your hands, his mouth open between his smooshed cheeks while his eyes are as big as you’ve ever seen them. Taking your hands in his own, he gently tugs them off before leaning closer to you, his breath shaking.

“Seriously? Are you...you’re being serious right now? You’re not joking with me? You’re being 100% serious? Please don’t joke with me about this. Please.” He begs quietly, the words filled with longing and more than just a little want.

Nodding slowly, you sniffle through your tears and curse your damn hormones as his expression slowly morphs into one of shocked excitement. For a few seconds, neither of you moves before he’s grinning that oh so familiar boxy smile that’s been making your heart skip frantically lately.

His hands are shaking as they trail along your cheeks slowly, moving until he’s cupping you with such tenderness that you almost cry even harder. Moving closer, his nose brushes against yours gently before he whispers. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

A tiny nod from you is all it takes for him to press his lips to yours lightly, the soft skin dancing over your own before he’s pulling away. You’d worried that kissing him might ruin the image you’d had in your head, that you might discover that you don’t love him and it was all just pregnancy filled hormones.

But kissing Taehyung feels like everything in the world has shifted ever so slightly and clicked into place. Tiny sparks of excitement fizzle in your veins at him and you want to sob at how much you love the feeling of kissing him. How it felt like every relationship up until now was just a starter and Taehyung was the comforting meal you’d been waiting for.

“That...felt really good. Right? It felt good for you too right?” He asks, slightly unsure of himself as tiny micro-expressions flitter over his face. Nodding at him, you bite your own lip before pushing forward and pressing a second kiss to his lips. He giggles at the sensation and you feel butterflies in your stomach, whether it’s from the emotion or your baby moving you don’t know, but you feel happy.

Slowly, carefully, as if you’re afraid that the slightest wrong move might break the connection that you’ve both made, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull his closer. He smells like Tae; like home, like happiness and you want him.

You want him as a friend, you want him as a father for your child, you want him as a romantic partner and you want him as a lover.

At the thought, a spark of desire sets alight in you and you squirm slightly from where Taehyung almost hovers over you on the couch. You haven’t had sex since Jin, and you haven’t felt very sexy but now you want Taehyung in ways you’d never thought you would.

Running your fingers along his neck and jawline, you nip at his lower lip teasingly as you pull away. Giving yourself enough space to speak, you stare deep into his chocolate eyes and watch as careful desire is reflected there, giving you the courage to make the next move.

Dragging your hands down his front, you reach the waistband of his trousers and press another kiss to his lips. “Do you want to…” You whisper, voice quiet with lust and thick with want. He hesitates for a moment, and sudden insecurity flashes through you.

Instantly, you’re pulling back and clenching your fists as your head shakes. “I’m sorry, I mean. I can wait, we can wait. I understand. I mean, you wouldn’t want to...with me. Now. With this, I mean...it’s another man’s baby and I’m big and it’s not attractive an-”

He presses a finger to your lips firmly, giving you a loving smile that’s just a tiny bit exasperated. “Please. Stop. I find you just as beautiful as I did before before you were pregnant. I don’t care that this baby isn’t mine, because it’s mine in my heart. And please, don’t think I ever find you unattractive. You are perfect and I love you. If you’ll let me, I would very much like to show you, how much I love you. Now, and for a long time in the future.”

Staring at him intently, you scan over the expression on his face to see if he’s being serious. And he is. You know Taehyung, you know when he’s lying. And he’s not. He’s being completely, 100% serious and your veins fizz with love for him.

“Okay. I trust you.”

-

5 Years Later

A loud shriek of boyish laughter followed by a deeper rumble lets you know that there’s fun being had in the house without you. Closing the door behind you slowly, a smile spreads over your lips involuntarily at that happy sound of your son and husband having fun.

Heading inside, you pass through the hallway and take note of the wedding photograph of Taehyung and you. He’d proposed two years ago and you’d accepted with excitement. It hadn’t been hugely romantic, in fact Jae-Chan had only just fallen asleep after a huge temper tantrum and the both of you had been exhausted.

Yet it had been romantic to you, the way he’d pulled you into his arms and cuddled up with you on the couch, his hand running along your back slowly as you’d both lay there shell shocked from yet another stinker of a tantrum. And then he’d just asked, plainly and honestly, if you would marry him. Of course, you’d said yes.

Smiling at the picture, you let your fingers trail over the frame lightly as you admired the tuxedo clad figure of Kim Taehyung as he grinned brightly, love written all over his face like an epic story that would be treasured thousands of years from now and the beautiful, ivory dress you’d chosen for your special day.

This photograph didn’t have Jae-Chan in, but the one in his bedroom did. As usual, that photo was chaotic with Jae-Chan shrieking with toddler excitement while Taehyung laughs and you smile at them both. It had been perfect, and you’d never wish for anything better.

Entering the living room, you lean against the door and simply watch them both for a moment. Jae-Chan was a bubbly and rambunctious five year old, with a love of animals that meant you kept getting asked for a dog every ten minutes. That wasn’t helped by Taehyung’s equally adorable puppy eyes, but you were restraining well. For now.

You were told frequently that he looked like you, and to the uninitiated they also commented on his resemblance to Taehyung. That amused you both, given that physically he reflected nothing of his daddy. If anything, he was bizarrely the spitting image of Jin.

But no one would ever guess that Taehyung was not Jae-Chan’s father when they got to know your son and his wonderful personality. He was caring, kind and loyal to a fault and even had a bunch of Taehyung’s cute quirks.

Right now, they were both painting on the floor, the floorboards covered in an old sheet, and your little boy giggled every time he painted on Taehyung. Currently, your husband was daubed in vibrant paint all over his body, and you sighed quietly as you wondered how long that would take to wash off.

Still, as you watched them both you found your heart clenching. Taehyung might not be Jae-Chan’s biological father, but he was his father in every way that mattered. And that was all that mattered to you.

Heading over, you knelt down next to Tae while ruffling Jae-Chan’s dark hair, grinning as he whined out a complaint. Pressing a kiss to Taehyung’s own head, you looked down at what they were painting.

Taehyung had some weird, abstract thing going on and you weren’t even attempting to guess what it was. He’d long ago stopped asking anyway. Sometimes, you just really couldn’t fake interest in stuff.

Jae-Chan however, had drawn a whole scene with your house and three figures outside. Giving him an overly exaggerated look of interest, you point to it with widened eyes. “Is that us Jae-Channie?”

He grins gummily, nodding his head as he adds the finishing touches on a dog. Taehyung looks up at you with amusement, pointing to the dog with a cute pout. “Mommy, he drew a dog as part of our family so I think we need one.”

Eyeing him, you kiss his forehead gently before grabbing the paintbrush that’s lying on the floor. “How about, instead of a dog. We have this?” You muse softly, painting a tiny fourth figure that you draw wrapped in a green blanket.

Taehyung stares at it confused before pointing. “You have terrible painting skills. Are you buying a gecko or something?” Chuckling, you shake your head before gesturing to the painting with a soft smile.

“No dog, but perhaps a fourth member might be good enough for you?” You stroke your flat stomach gently and watch as his confused eyes flicker down to your hand. He’s still for a moment before his expression opens up into one of pure shock.

“Oh my god. Are you? Are we? I’m gonna…” He trails off, unable to speak and you simply nod with a toothy grin.

The next thing you know, you’re tackled to the floor gently as Taehyung kisses all over your face happily while Jae-Chan squeals with laughter at his parents excitement.

Being friends with Kim Taehyung had been easy, becoming best friends had been simple and a natural progression. But becoming a family with Taehyung had been the best decision of your life, easily.