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rightsockjin · 3 years ago

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Summary: Your best friend of your near entire life has been a total asshat to you ever since you started to casually date which didn't seem super fair to you since he did the exact same thing and you were nothing but supportive! It just sucks that you two are growing apart over a coping mechanism that you adopted to distract yourself from your overwhelming crush on said idiot. If only he knew. Wait- did you say that OUT LOUD?

Rating: M (What isn't on this blog?)

Genre: Maybe a little angst? Smut for sure tho.

Word count: 8003

Warnings: Thongs, sex, lewd thoughts, erections, physical pushing, raw dogging, cream pie, mentions of giving head, a looooooottt of swearing, mentions of slut shaming. Oh right- oppa kink and little splashes of korean as well.

yeo-chin= girlfriend

nam-chin= boyfriend

halmoni= grandma

apa=to hurt

aya=expression to express pain equivalent to 'ow'

Author’s note: HI EVERYONE! We are somewhat back!! So sorry for the long wait for content. Things have been insane and we’ve been working on a much- much longer fic for this blog which will involve all of the boys! It’s a long story but this hit me like a truck yesterday and it was initially meant to be a reaction but I couldn’t stop writing… so it’s 7k and the other boys will get their own version of this prompt “best friend is jealous of the attention you give to guys” thing. Starting once again with the one and only Yoongi! Hope y’all enjoy:)

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“You know it’s funny, I don’t remember asking,” Yoongi said virulently, his attention centered solely on his phone as he scrolled through instagram... or twitter... or maybe it was tinder. Your heart sank. You had been excited that this guy- Woojin- had given you attention. He was good looking by a lot of standards and it had boosted your confidence significantly. Of course, you wanted to share that excitement with your best friend. Rejecting someone that good looking always made you feel really powerful and attractive but you had barely shown him Woojin’s picture and commented on how attractive he was before your so called best friend had brushed you off and went back to his solitude and avoidance.

You had noticed that something was off for a while now but hadn’t commented on anything to avoid any conflicts but this was ridiculous. You had constantly listened to the stories of how girls would trickle in like water for him. He seemed to be going out with someone new every two weeks.

It wasn’t fair that you had to put up with his annoying descriptions of how beautiful these girls were while you sat and gave him your undivided attention as your heart slowly chipped and broke with each new conquest of his. Especially when each girl was so different from who you were. At first, you thought that maybe you were annoyed by this simply because it was hurtful to think he didn’t at least think you were pretty. It wasn’t long after that that you realized that it hurt you when he went out with women who were your polar opposite because it meant that he would never date you.

This had been shocking in itself. You had known Yoongi for your entire life, or at least a good portion of it, and you had always seen him as a brother. Your oppa in the least sexual or boyfriend-y form possible, but when you looked at him now… he was looking a lot more like well- an oppa.

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish. His words stung more than you would like to admit. Whenever Yoongi got this snippy, you liked to equal him in snip and double him in sass, never showing how vulnerable his disinterest made you feel, but this time, it felt like he had punched you in the chest with all his force and told you you were ugly to boot.

You didn’t want to cry in front of him either. He’d make fun of you. Last time you had cried, he’d awkwardly pat you on the head and quickly changed the very serious topic of your parents' relationship with yours to something totally different and not even a little relevant to helping you feel better. Given, that had been years ago and he’d never been very good at comforting you nor had he so much as expressed his support of you. Not since that one time when you had broken your wrist and he’d promptly pushed the girl who had been the culprit off the swing set thus getting himself suspended for a week and a half when you were both in elementary school.

But this… this was just cruel. It was ugly. It made you look at your “best friend” in a light that was not so shiny and pristine. He’d changed so much since then. He’d pulled away from you since then and you hadn’t even noticed. Or maybe you had and had just ignored it. Maybe you’d hoped if you didn’t mention it, that it would go away and he would come back full force with one of his dumb dances and pretty smiles. Maybe you hoped he’d realize soon what you had realized in your early twenties.

You loved him. And not the brotherly love that you had always had for him, no, you, Y/N, were very much in love with your best friend. Which made this whole situation so much worse.

When you said nothing, Yoongi briefly glanced up at you from his seemingly important phone conversation with most likely another of his soon to be dates only to look back down.

“What? Cat got your tongue? No snippy rebuttal? You’re not gonna chew me out for being mean to you again?”

His face was illuminated by the blue lights of his screen; he had it at the near darkest setting and his eyes were squinted to see it better. Something that had always annoyed you because you knew it was only hurting his vision.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. When that didn’t help, you cleared it, accidentally catching his attention. He clicked his phone off and looked over at you as if ready to argue but something in your face must have given away your inner turmoil because his hard features softened and his lips fell slightly open.

“Are you crying?”

No. Of course you weren’t crying. You never cried. Not ever. But then your cheeks were wet and the onslaught of emotion seemed to burst. How far had you fallen for this indefinitely cold man that his sarcasm made you fall in hysterics? Far it seemed. Too far.

You angrily wiped the tears away from your burning skin and crossed your arms over your chest. The hoodie you had stolen from him earlier that day felt like sandpaper against your skin as opposed to the comfort you’d initially felt when slipping over your head and smelling the fresh scent of his cologne clinging to it.

You felt him shift on the couch to face you fully, out of the corner of your eye, you could see his features had turned worried, alarmed even but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him nor care. Too little too late.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m sorry.”

The words hung in the still air like a wrong note played in a symphony. It made your head spin and ache.

You didn’t dare speak. It would only give away how truly hurt you were by his words and actions. You didn’t want to be around him anymore.

Abruptly, you stood up and yanked the hoodie from your body. The tank you had on pulled up slightly showing the skin of your belly. It was lopsided, you noted when you looked down and saw that one side was pulled over and under your bra and the other was too high on your chest but you didn’t really care.

Yoongi watched you with conflict evident in his eyes, if only you would turn to see. He hadn’t meant to offend you. He’d only been trying to keep you at arms length. You had also been going out with multiple guys, telling him how good looking and tall they all were. Most of these men were also built like rocks and he himself was toned at best. Contrary to what you thought, Yoongi had come to the realization that he’d been in love with you since you were kids. He did not tolerate when anyone made you feel like shit, and, being a very mature kid, he’d told his mother quite early on that he would marry you someday. Of course, she’d only chastised him and told him that he couldn’t possibly know what love was nor could he force you to marry him, but he was adamant.

He’d stopped telling her about it after that though, and instead of telling you how he felt, he’d opted instead to watch over you and make sure nothing happened. So when in high school, you had started to date and it had not been him whom you had chosen, he’d made sure to keep the sorry excuse of a man you had chosen in line. That was… until the incident.

Yoongi would never forgive himself for not being there. For not stopping the bastard who thought he owned you. He’d never forgive the idiot either and if you hadn’t stopped him, he would have killed him with his bare fists then stuffed his own socks in his mouth.

It was then that Yoongi realized that you deserved better than him, and at the same time, no one was worthy of you. It was a strange dynamic. He’d never once approved of your dates, but had decided to start dating other women because, let's face it, he was a guy and he’d like to have children someday but not even in his wildest dreams could he think that you would ever settle for him. Someone who’d failed you as your self imposed protector.

Not that you knew any of that. You didn’t know that Yoongi often teamed up with your other best friend, your girl best friend to scope out your dates once you’d left. You’d almost caught them once as well and it had been by pure luck and the hair of a very out of place clown that both of them had escaped your wrath that night. You also didn’t notice that after you had fully broken up with that first asshole, he’d threatened to beat him to a pulp if he so much as breathed in your direction once more and later, he’d threatened ‘asshole’ two and three with the same things.

But then your dates had gotten taller and stronger and much harder to intimidate. He’d once made the mistake of threatening a casual date that you’d set up who was at least a solid half foot taller than him and he’d been laughed out of the restaurant only to find out later that the jerk had forced a kiss on you.

No, Yoongi’s days as your protector had dwindled and left him feeling half of the man he’d already thought he was and so his only defense, his only way to keep you safe- though now that he was watching tears well in your eyes he wondered what logic he’d used to justify this behavior- was to be the asshole himself and teach you how to deal with them on a first hand basis.

He hated himself for making you cry. He hated that you looked so dejected and hurt and like you never wanted to speak another word to him again. He hated that your shoulders slumped and that your pretty eyelashes were coated in wet tears and it was all on him.

“You know what,” you finally managed to say with some semblance of calm under the storm that was brewing in the irises he’d so loved, “I think we’ve grown apart a little too much. Maybe we should just- cut our losses and,” you heaved a deep breath, trying to keep yourself calm, “stop seeing each other.”

Were you breaking up with him? How were you even going to break up with him if you weren’t even dating? Yoongi’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach. He had tunnel vision. All he could see was you and the way that you seemed to pull yourself up from the ground, rebuilding before his eyes.

“Stop see-what? Are you demented?”

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Was that all he was capable of being? Wrong. Incorrect. Inexact. Erroneous. Mistaken. He was plain stupid for the words he’d let slip but there was no taking them back now.

You let your eyes widen as you wiped more of your furiously falling tears from your skin. You turned to face him, your shirt fixed and covering you exactly how it should and your features set and intentional.

“What’s the point? You clearly don’t want to be around me anymore and I’m tired of being berated every time I mention a guy. You’re the most unsupportive friend I have and that’s because I’ve known you the longest. If you don’t want to be my friend just say so instead of slut shaming me and bullying me every chance you get you asshat.”

“Asshat,” he chuckled, crossing his sleeve-covered arms over his toned chest, “real clever, Y/N. Is that all you got, kid? You never were one for words were you? Why don’t you just sock me instead?”

Oh you were considering it. He seemed so unbothered by the prospect of losing you that you realized maybe you had already lost him and hadn’t realized. You had dealt with your fair share of jerks in your life, but you had always counted on Yoongi to be your hope. He’d shown you that there were men in the world that seemed to care about women. Men who could love you even when you felt unlovable, unworthy, but here he was, proving to you once again that all men were the same evil and vile creatures, incapable of love or kindness if they weren’t getting their dicks wet.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? Then you could go around saying that I’m a crazy bitch. You know what? Fuck you Min Yoongi. I hope you get well and royally fucked.” You yelled, grabbing the tote bag you’d brought over from your apartment and stomping to the door.

“Fuck you too,” he yelled, following you to the door. He caught you at the landing strip, prying on your chunky sneakers with a bit of difficulty, your house slippers, the ones he’d bought you, lay haphazardly nearby.

“And fuck all of those asshole guys you keep bringing home. Better yet, I hope you don’t fuck them.”

You turned your head up to look at him, confusion and disgust written all over your face.

“What the fuck do my dates had to do with what a fucking jerk you are?”

Choosing to ignore your question, he focused instead on your insult, “A jerk, am I? Well you’re a bitch. How do you like that?”

He didn’t know why he was insulting you. He didn’t think you were actually a bitch, but the anger on your face made him feel better.

It was followed by near instant regret as you drew yourself up to your full height and looked at him with pure venom in your gaze.

“I’m a bitch?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, trying to keep his shoulders square, but you were scary when angry and he’d never fared well in fights with you.

“I’m the bitch?”

“You heard me!”

You balled your fists at your sides, your eyebrows connected in the center and your breathing was heavy. He knew better than to use the B-word.

“You’re a piece of shit.” It was low but your voice carried and hit all of the bones in his body before it hit his heart and burrowed deep in the wounds he’d stitched up but pulled open multiple times over the years that pertain only to you.

“You are a sorry excuse of a man,” you growled, pushing him by the chest. Somewhere in the back of your mind you noted that it felt really firm and stronger than before.

“You’re an ass, Min Yoongi,” you continued, giving him another push so that he stumbled slightly back into the living room of his apartment once again.

“You low life,” another push, closer to the couch, “weak minded,” you shoved him, he sidestepped the glass coffee table where your untouched coffee mugs still rested, probably cold by now, “son of a bitch, fucking baby, involved sorry excuse of a man-” He fell onto the cough. Your vision was red.

“You already used that insult.” Was all he said as you stood over him, your chest heaved with the exertion of trying to keep yourself from slapping the now blank expression from his face.

A slew of incomprehensible noises escaped from your lips as words completely left your brain. Damn him. Damn this idiot of a man that you were in love with. He could go to hell for all you cared and you hoped that the devil himself ripped his testicles off and served them on a platter with some kimchi and fried rice.

“Okay first of all- ow,” The asshole said, pulling you back to reality and not your fictitious rework where Yoongi was now sitting at the end of a long table being force fed his own balls, “And second…”

You held your breath. Fear ran down your spine. You hadn’t meant to say that out loud-

“You-you’re in love with me?”

Well… he got his wish, you were royally fucked. Instantly, you tried to back track. Your mind kept replaying in your head what you had said and tried to correct itself but you couldn’t think of anything that could possibly absolve you.

“Like a brother,” you said finally, your voice shaky and thin.

Yoongi only blinked up at you. What you said was bullshit and he knew it. You knew it too.

“You’re in love with me… like a brother?”

“Oppa,” you clarified as if that would somehow make more sense, and it did kind of, but it didn’t absolve you at all. In fact, this only made a smile tug at his lips, his pearly teeth suddenly on display, blinding. You fought the smile that threatened to pull at yours too. It was always hard because his smile was so contagious.

Yoongi stood. He was less than an inch away from your own body. You felt small, meek. You’d misstepped this big game of chess you seemed to be playing. He was going to make fun of you. He’d never let you live it down. You liked him.

“You like me,” as if he had read your mind, he echoed your thoughts, or maybe you had spoken that out loud as well.

“No I don’t,” you argued, taking a step back just so you could have some space to breathe.

“Oh yeah you do,” Yoongi argued, his smile so wide you were sure it would hurt the muscles in his cheeks

“No,” you said again, not really thinking anything you said at this point would convince him otherwise. The son of a bitch was stubborn.

“Admit it,” he said, closing the distance between you again, his neck craned down to look directly at your face.

“I don’t like you!” You tried to take another step back but the coffee table knocked your feet out from under you. You fell onto it knocking Yoongi’s mug of coffee over. The black decaf liquid seeped into your shorts.

Yoongi’s rusty laugh was pried from his throat as he watched your face contort. He was having the time of his life, it seemed. Good for him.

“Stop laughing at me,” you groaned, your cheeks red. You were practically sweating from how feverish you felt.

It was like you hadn’t spoken. Your shorts were wet and made you feel sticky. In a fit of anger, like a child throwing a tantrum, you unbuttoned the denim and ripped them from your legs. This shut Yoongi up instantly. With the soiled fabric, you cleaned up the liquid before it fell onto the light grey carpet.

Yoongi stilled as his eyes traveled up and down your long legs.The way you were twisting, he could see the back of your left thigh up to where it met your ass- your bare ass. You were wearing a thong.

God help him, he was rapidly getting hard. He forced his eyes away from you, his walls being pulled back up at seeing you naked. Well partially so. He pushed his hands into his oversized hoodie and made sure that it covered his front. The last thing he needed was for you to see.

But then you turned and pulled your legs together, your thighs squishing attractively. What he wouldn’t give to be choked by those thighs.

“Let me wash those for you,” he said tightly, pulling a hand from his hoodie to take the soiled shorts, the hem of the fabric pulled up enough for you to see exactly what he’d been trying to hide.

Yoongi had a hard on. You weren’t sure why exactly you were surprised. You were attractive, that much you knew, but you never really expected for your best friend to see you in that way. In fact, you were pretty sure that you’d been in your underwear in front of him before and he hadn’t even given you a second glance, but there was the evidence. And God was there a lot of evidence.

Slowly, you handed him the shorts. His hand grabbed them tightly, avoiding touching any part of your hand with his. Then, after a slight pause, he turned on his heels and walked towards the kitchen to put the shorts into the washer.

You’d called him oppa. You rarely called him oppa and it had hypersensitized him to the word coming from your lips. Other girls called him oppa sometimes and it had no effect on him but there he was, stiff as a board and it had something to do with you calling him oppa and your state of undress. Fuck. He was fucked. So fucked.

At least he wished he could be… But no. He pushed those thoughts from his head as he threw in some nice scented soaps into the wash and clicked it to life. He shut his eyes, trying to think of anything that would drain the blood from his member- halmeoni maybe?- but your voluptuous ass kept intruding, giving his halmeoni some nice curves that messed with her wrinkled face. He shook his head once more and decided he’d just have to hide his boner until it went away, or go beat one out in the restroom really quick.

He grabbed a pair of his clean sweat pants from the drying rack to give to you, just so you would be comfortable, he told himself, not because the thought of your naked butt in them made him unspeakably horny.

But when he got back to the living room, what he found was not you, covering yourself with a pillow like he’d expected, but you, only in your thong- fuck did it have to be a thong?- and your bra. Your shirt was nowhere to be seen.

“Fuck me,” he groaned, burring his head in his hands and turning away from you.

“I mean, if you ask nicely enough that can be arranged,” you answered rather boldly. There was no way for him to know that you were quaking in fear for his rejection.

Yoongi’s dick twitched in his sweats.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he said under his breath as his heart beat faster. He felt like he was having a whole heart attack. He patted his chest, hoping to calm it down knowing it was useless.

Should he go for it? You had just admitted accidentally that you did have feelings for him and you were clearly propositioning him. Should he just-

He turned around, back to face you, determination paining his expression. Still on the coffee table, your legs were spread open, only covered by the thin sliver of fabric that your thong allotted. You were a little cold, but all of that melted away when you saw the way that Yoongi’s eyes roamed your exposed body, then stopped abruptly to meet your own.

He was in front of you in seconds, his longer legs carried him farther and faster than you had anticipated. Then he was pulling you to stand. You wobbled on your legs but one of his arms found its way around your waist. His free hand came up and held your jaw with two fingers on either side of your face, squishing your lips together slightly. His hot, heavy member pressed against your stomach through his sweats. He was so close that you could smell the coffee on his breath and the fading smell of his cologne you loved so much. All you wanted was to grind against him but you were held too tightly.

“You never know when to shut up do you?” But he didn’t let you answer. He crashed his soft lips onto yours, his hold on your jaw ached but you didn’t care. There was a passion in his kiss that you hadn’t expected, subtly dwindling to something more like tenderness, and the kiss continued. His lips dragged against yours delicately, pinching your top one with both of his. Small breaths came out of his nose, whistling softly against your cheek. You timed your breaths with his, high on the feeling of finally being kissed, coveted by him. Was it real? Was this actually happening?

Your brain suddenly caught up with your body. The rightness that came with the way he was kissing you, like he couldn’t get enough of you, like he needed you to properly breathe, was like nothing you could have imagined.

The hand on your waist was drawing small circles where the elastic of your thong rested, his index finger casually hooked onto and under pulling lightly. You pressed yourself tighter than he had you against his erection. He groaned, his mouth opening and his tongue suddenly darting out to taste. He pulled your jaw open, granting himself entrance and exploring your mouth.

You moaned, a sound so sensuous and wanton that Yoongi felt that he could cum just from those sounds alone. He wanted more. He wanted you to sing his praises as he fucked into you and caressed your chest. He wanted you to drool around his cock and to have your sweet mouth wrapped tight around it. He wanted to feel you gag at his girth and he wanted to pull at your hair. But most of all, he wanted to kiss you, just like how he was at that moment. He wanted to kiss you until he’d taken your soul from your body and replaced it with his own. He wanted to kiss you until he could erase every trace of all of the men who’d hurt you and made you doubt that you were worthy and wanted. Yoongi wanted to kiss his love into you no matter how long he had to do it. If he was locked in a room with you for months, so be it.

But your hand had found its way between your bodies and was slowly coming down to his hips. Suddenly, he realized what he was doing and panicked. He hadn’t gotten your consent. He hadn’t asked you if it was okay for him to kiss you or to hook his fingers on your thong. As stupid as it sounded, even to Yoongi himself, he needed to make sure that you wanted this to happen, even as your hand had found the outline of his cock and you had started to trace the outline of it over the fabric-

“Tell me to stop,” he gasped, ripping himself away from you. The hand around your waist was now on your shoulder to keep you at enough distance so that his brain could function and wasn’t clouded by the horniness he was feeling.

“Wha…?” You slurred, your eyes were glazed over and your body was completely relaxed.

“Tell me to stop,” he repeated, fighting his every instinct to push your mouth open and have you suck on his thumb before he pushed you onto your knees to suck him off, “and I will.”

His eyelids were heavy and he was sweating slightly. He was so hard that it hurt and the circles you were drawing on his penis were not helping at keeping him at bay. He knew if he looked down, there would be a stain of precum on his sweats.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered, leaning in and kissing his jaw before you nibbled and kissed down his taught neck.

“Fuck.”

“I want you to fuck me.” You licked a thick swipe up his jugular, “I want you.”

“Then admit it,” Yoongi heard himself say. He was just as surprised as you were to hear those words from his lips, “admit that you like me.”

You pulled away then, dropping both your arms in exasperation, “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m in my underwear, stroking your cock and you want me to stroke your ego too? Un-fucking-believeable. You’re a dumb ass.”

You rolled your eyes and flicked his forehead.

“Aya, apa~” he groaned, rubbing his head, the dynamic that you were used to suddenly restored.

“Yeah? Great! I’m glad that it hurt! I hope it hurts really bad you jerk. Then maybe you’ll understand what it was like for me to listen to you go on and on about all the girls you went out with every fucking week. In fact-”

“Aya! What the fuck? Stop flicking me,” he nearly screamed, clutching the tip of his nose.

“Make me.”

Big mistake. Yoongi didn’t take your dare lightly. His eyes darkened then he leaned down and picked you up. You squeaked, wrapping your legs around his waist as he walked you to his room. His hands cupped your butt fairly comfortably, like this was something you did often. He kicked the door open and threw you on the bed.

“You think I wasn’t hurt as well?” He asked, clasping a hand around your neck and lightly pressing his fingers against your skin.

“You think I like knowing that everywhere we go, men are watching you, coveting you the way I do? You think it isn’t torture when you go out and I don’t hear from you until the next day?”

He pushed you up against his pillow. The duvet was already all messed up under your body. He was between your legs, pressing himself into your core. Fuck, you wanted him. You wanted him all the way inside you. He wanted nothing more than to do the same but he had to make sure you knew first.

“You think it was easy being in love with you when you wanted nothing from me but friendship?”

Your eyes softened. Yoongi was in love with you too? When?

“Since we were kids,” he answered. Again you had spoken without meaning to. “I always knew it was you, Y/N. It was only ever you.”

But something wasn’t adding up. You fought your rising feelings of elation. You wanted to understand what he was saying. If he had liked you since you were kids then why had he never asked you out? Why become the serial dater he’d become? But he’d never had a girlfriend, you reminded yourself. He’d only ever “dated” and then dropped these women. You always assumed he was screwing them all.

Yoongi became sheepish then. “I uh… I did have sex with some of them but-” and the hurt in your eyes would be enough to kill him,” it was only at the start. I thought that if i had sex with other people I’d stop chasing after you. But it didn’t work… I haven’t slept with anyone since junior year of college.”

Your eyes widened. “College?”

He nodded, his pale cheeks blushing prettily.

“They just...were never you… and then I thought if I pushed you away that would help but that only made us estranged and-”

You pushed yourself up and shut him up with a kiss. He was over thinking and you could talk about all that later.

“You’re an idiot,” you started and he rolled his eyes, “but if you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to do it myself.”

Yoongi’s eyes rolled into his head and he thrust lightly into your wet center.

“Talk after?”

“As long as you want,” you agreed, already pushing at his sweats. Yoongi sat up and pulled his hoodie and shirt off in one fell swoop, then, at the speed of lightning, pulled off his sweats, leaving him in his boxers.

After a moment of hesitation, he pulled his boxers off as well and then he was naked before you. Your mouth went dry. He was big. You could tell just by looking at him that he would stretch you good and you wanted so badly for him to pin you down and have his way with you.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Really? Cause that would be really helpful on days when I’m home alone-”

“Wha-no!”

You chuckled and lay down on your back, making sure that your legs were spread wide for him to have his fill. Like a moth to a flame, he was between your thighs, his tongue licking at the wet fabric.

He moaned against your covered lips, sucking up the arousal that clung to your underwear.

“Fuck, Yoongi yes,” you said without meaning to say much at all. You unclasped your bra and threw it somewhere in the room. You could look for it later. This caught his attention. He thrust his naked dick into the mattress, needing some sort of stimulation.

“Damn it… fuck, if I wasn’t so desperate to be inside you, I swear I could get you off with just my mouth all day, Y/N.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved off, gesturing for him to come up to your face, he did so without question, “Hurry up, I’m dying. Please.”

“Are you begging?” Yoongi’s lips curled lightly, teasingly,

“Do you want to get your dick wet or not?” He kissed the wrinkle between your eyebrows lightly.

“Yeah, can I take these off?” he hooked a finger on the elastic of your thong, pulling it a little higher than he probably should have. It was an old pair. You heard rather than saw the stitching on it pull apart and then the thing was hanging limply from Yoongi’s fingers, his expression shocked.

“Yoongi!”

“What? I didn’t do it on purpose!”

“For fuck’s sake! That was my favorite thong!”

“Well, clearly it was cheap,” he countered, throwing it across the room somewhere too.

You groaned, shifting slightly under him. His dick nuzzled between your wet lips. His mouth dropped open and a pleasured grunt escaped his lips.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rut against your wetness, hitting your clit lightly, far too lightly, “you are so wet. God, this should be illegal.”

“Y-Yoongi… more,” he reached down between you two and found your sensitive nub without much hassle. It was like he knew your body already. Your body twitched under him and he circled the bundle of nerves for a couple of seconds. The noises falling from your lips were heaven on earth and Yoongi realized you were his new favorite song.

He gave your clit one rough stroke, ripping a small gasp from your throat. He gathered some of your slick with two practiced fingers and brought it up to eye level. It caught the low light of his room from the window, the smell enough to threaten to send him over the edge.

“Jesus Christ that’s hot.” Then he smeared it all over his penis and gave himself two rough pumps.

“Can I-”

“Yes.”

“You don’t even know what I’m asking-”

“Don’t care. Just do it. Yes.” You said angrily, pulling him closer and closer, his toned chest flush against yours.

“Have you been working out?” You asked, breaking the intense way he was staring into your eyes, his smile pulled wide over his gums.

He shrugged but clearly was glad that you’d noticed, “Namjoon and Jungkook convinced me to join them in the gym. It’s no big deal.”

“But your arms,” you complimented, squeezing his bicep. He flexed it lightly for you. You blushed when you realized exactly what you were doing.

“It’s just a little muscle,” he commented offhandedly.

The conversation lulled, he smiled down at you, and you up at him. He kissed the tip of your nose.

“So can I put it i-”

“I already said yes.”

“In your ass?”

“Ew no!”

Yoongi laughed loudly, “see this is why you can’t say yes to something without knowing what you’re agreeing to.”

“Shut up and put it in the right hole,” you groaned, then for good measure, “oppa.” It was a joke. You thought it was a joke, but something lit up in his pupils as two measly syllables rolled off your tongue and hit his eardrums. You felt his skin prickle under your touch and his member twitched against your folds.

Like a deer caught in headlights, you looked up at the handsome man. His eyes had narrowed as well as darkened. He looked absolutely ravenous and you wanted him to eat you up.

“Say that again.” He commanded as he pushed the head of his massive, and now that you could properly feel it, you knew that you had been right, cock at the entrance of your lower lips.

“O-oppa?” you questioned, astounded that the simple word that he’d no doubt heard his whole life had this effect on him.

“That’s right yeo-chin,” he growled, his voice gruff and harsh as he pushed lightly into you. His dick opened you painfully, perfectly.

“Yeo-chin?” You ask through the explosion of pleasure between your thighs.

“Is that okay?” He asked, suddenly looking really vulnerable and scared. You reached up, stroking his cheek lightly with your knuckles.

“Oh honey,” you trailed off, bumping his nose against yours before you pulled back abruptly, “If you want me to be your girlfriend, you have to ask me properly.”

Yoongi sighed, his smile telling you he expected as much and wasn’t hurt, “Talk after?” He asked again.

“As much as you want,” you reiterated.

And then he was pushing into you once again, surprising you because you could have sworn you had been full before but inch after inch, he pushed into your awaiting hole, filling all the emptiness you’d felt your whole life until his balls tapped your ass softly.

His face was contorted in pure ecstasy. At least from your perspective. Yoongi, in all truth, was trying his hardest not to blow his load into you already. He couldn’t believe his luck. He was inside you. He’d waited his whole life for this and he was finally inside you.

You wiped a bead of sweat from his temple and playfully licked his lips. He grunted against you, holding himself up by the forearms. Suddenly, he was really grateful that he had started to work out and that Jungkook had him doing three minute planks for fun. He’d have to thank him later, even if he did complain a whole lot.

“Can-can I move?” Yoongi gasped. Your walls fluttered around his member as if welcoming it home with soft caresses. You were so warm, maybe hot, he wasn’t sure, but you were tight and wet and all the good things in the world.

You only breathed, feeling so unbelievably full. It felt like he had pushed in all the way to your throat. You were no size queen, really, you weren’t, but if this is what they were going on about, you understood.

“Y/N,” he panted, his body begging him to move, “please.”

“Are-are you begging?” You giggled mirroring what he’d asked you before.

“Yes.” Without hesitation, he admitted, “Please… please…”

Well fuck. How could you say no? You nodded fervently, all mirth erased from your expression as he pulled out slowly, your juices squelched as your lower muscles tried to keep him in.

“Gah- ash-Y/N… you’re so tight.”

You only moaned in response, the head of his cock was still in you, stretching you to the point you didn’t think anyone could fully make you feel this way again.

“You’re so big,” you complimented scratching at his back. His muscles rippled under your touch.

He pushed back in, still torturously slow. It felt like you were being split in half. You felt like Olaf in the first frozen movie after he got stabbed by an icicle.

“Yoongi,” you gasped as he pulled out again at the same speed, his face screwed up in concentration.

“Oppa,” he growled into your ear, kissing roughly at your skin.

“Oppa,” you agreed, though it wasn’t your favorite word, he seemed to be getting of fairly

well so you let it slide, “move faster.”

“You sure?” He asked.

You nodded, knowing it was probably going to hurt but you wanted to feel him and you wanted him to cum.

“Yes.”

He didn’t need to be told again; he drew back, once again leaving only the mushroom tip inside you once again, and then he thrust. Hard. You nearly choked as he pumped himself over and over again hitting the nerves in your vagina. The slap of skin against yours was loud in the empty room, only accompanied by your moans and his pants and grunts. Your names mixed in every once in a while, your lips kissing any and all the skin that you could possibly reach. He licked at your lips and sucked bruises onto your neck, your chest. He wanted to mark all of you. He wanted to make sure you knew who you belonged to… as soon as he asked you right after he finished up.

This idea itself spurred him on, to thrust faster, deeper. He wanted to finish and make sure that you finished too, not quickly but soon. He wanted to talk. He wanted to make sure that you were in the same place.

So he reached between you both again, his fingers blindly found your clitoris and began to rub abstract shapes into it. Your back arched off the bed, your hair and boobs bounced with each thrust, his balls slapping against your ass. You were seeing white, your mouth wide open in a silent ‘o’. You were so close. So so close.

“Come, Yeo-chin,” he whispered against your temple, and though you weren’t technically his, the title sent you over the edge along with his fingers and the deep thrusts that hit your cervix.

“Oppa,” you groaned, your face screwed up.

That did it for Yoongi. His fingers on your clit stuttered along with his hips. His thrusts became erratic and he hit the sides of your walls. You squeezed around him as he over stimulated you through your orgasm.

“One more time… say it one more time,” he begged.

You complied, whispering it into his ear, it was cut slightly by a particularly pleasurable thrust. Yoongi felt pure euphoria fill his blood as his hips paused, then buried deep into your hole. Ropes of hot cum shot into you, filling you.

Yoongi panted heavily over you, his head resting on your shoulder as he struggled to keep himself up. You were breathing heavily as well, your nipples brushed against his chest. You were sensitive. You hissed.

“You can lay down,” the words had barely left your lips before he had let his weight settle on top of you. A smile crossed your face as his hands tangled in your hair and stroked it lightly. You wrapped him up in a hug, wanting him to stay like this for a while. It was nice to feel him so close.

After a couple of minutes of both of you just recovering and your breathing getting much harder, like a wrestler, you tapped Yoongi twice.

“I’m out,” you joked, “can’t breathe.”

With what looked like a lot of effort, he pushed himself up and off you, pulling out of your suddenly. The cum inside of your vagina gushed out.

You made a face as you felt it drip onto his sheets. Yoongi watched it ooze out of you, not really caring where it was going. He looked mesmerized. He reached out as if to swipe at the cum on your lower lips but you grabbed his wrist before he could.

“We talk now,” you sighed, a bit calmer than before but still a bit worried.

“Now?” He looked so vulnerable again, like he was a scared child. He lay on his side, resting his head on his elbow. He looked down at you, waiting for you to take the reins, the way you always did but this time, you didn’t know where to begin.

Yoongi cleared his throat looking around uncomfortably. When you said nothing, his mind had started to race.

“So… do you… want to be my girlfriend, or are we friends with benefits level right now? Ow!”

You’d smacked his shoulder, not hard at all but he was dramatic and you knew that. He frowned at you, his lips tempting you into another kiss that could lead to something more once again. You were already feeling a little turned on again just looking at the results of his recent gym trips.

“So no to yeo-chin then?”

“Yoongi!”

“Don’t you mean Oppa?”

You smiled up at him, a teasing glint in your gaze, “I didn’t know you had an oppa kink. This whole time, I was right to refuse to call you oppa. I knew you looked way too happy whenever I called you that!”

Yoongi scrunched his nose and looked away, “I don’t! It’s just… when you say it.” He admitted waving a hand as if to bat away your inquisitive and teasing stare.

Not really knowing how to answer that, you chose instead to answer his previous question.

“Nam-chin,” you ran a finger down the center of his pecks, tracing all the light visible muscles that made you want to get off on just riding his chest. Yoongi tensed under your touch. He seemed frozen.

“Did you just call me nam-chin?” You, for once, were not embarrassed. You smiled brightly, happy that the title finally had a head to sit on.

“Is that okay?”

Yoongi pulled you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his heart beat erratically in his chest, singing to yours. To its credit, your heart synced and harmonized almost instantly. He smelled like pure sex and fresh water. He buried your face into his bare skin, listening to his song. After all these years, after all the tiptoeing and fear, you were finally where you belonged.

“Of course it is,” he paused, kissing the top of your head a couple of times, “yeo-chin.” This time, the word made a shiver roll down your spine. Arousal began to pool between your sticky thighs once more and if the third leg on your stomach was anything to go by, he was as well.

“Can- can we take a shower?” you asked him, biting your lips and pushing your chest against his suggestively.

He smirked, his mouth watered at the thought of taking you in the shower. He could almost hear your moans echoing in his wet room as he sat you down and ate you out until the water ran cold. Easy clean up even.

“Yes.” he breathed, connecting his lips to yours. You kissed for a while, your lips meshing together lovingly. Yoongi was a good kisser, you realized. He was a good lay as well. And he was cute to boot. Suddenly, he pulled away and picked you up bridal style and walked you to his restroom. He once again kicked the door open to avoid using his hands and walked you through, but this time instead of throwing you down, he set you on the toilet, him on his knees between your pushed open legs.

“I hope you don’t have any plans,” he said, kissing up your thighs and pulling you close to the edge, “because I have all the time in the world and I’m really, really thirsty.”

He ran two fingers over your abused center, collecting his cum and your new arousal. Sure, there were still a lot of things to talk about between you two. Yoongi still wasn’t sure if you fully understood the depth of his feelings nor was he sure if you simply liked him and the slip of the L-word was nothing more than that. A slip. But like he’d said, he had all the time in the world to ask and all the time to make sure he earned you and your trust. He would do anything he could to prove it and some day he would be.

But for now, he was royally fucked by the sinful sounds that escaped your pretty lips and he wanted nothing more than to just enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Masterlist -in case you want to read more....

I hope yall enjoyed it and that this is a good come back after our roast session from permission to dance:)

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corysmiles · 4 years ago

Note

tommy meeting ranboo in the the friendly giant au?? would he keep ranboo a secret? also love your writing :D

Oh Tommy would want to tell the entire village as soon as he saw him, but maybe Tubbo could convince him against it :)

——————————

Friendly Giant- Caught

cw//language

——————————

Tommy was always watchful of his surroundings and especially his family. He just liked to make sure they were safe.

And the area around their village was infamous for the terrors it held so no one could really blame him for keeping track on those he’d cared for.

So of course he’d noticed Tubbo’s disappearances.

He worried at first but then when he woke up again in the morning Tubbo was always right there. So at least he wasn’t doing anything too dangerous...

However, it wasn’t a one time thing. Now that he knew what to look for every single night he found proof of Tubbo sneaking out. He had absolutely no clue why his brother would do so.

So one night he packed his bags before he went to bed and hid under his covers, waiting patiently for Tubbo to leave so he could follow.

Once Tubbo finally slipped out through their window Tommy jumped out of bed to track him. It was strange, he thought maybe he was visiting another house or a friend, but Tubbo seemed intent on the forest.

The older boy dug his hands into the wall protecting the village from the outside before heaving his body over. Curiously Tommy waited on the other side until Tubbo’s footsteps got far enough away where he could throw himself over too.

Then as quietly as he could he followed Tubbo through the trees. It was strange, Tubbo looked like he knew where he was going but there wasn’t anything out that far in the woods.

What the fuck was he doing?

Tommy followed for a little bit longer before Tubbo walked into the entrance of a large cave.

‘“What the fuck?” Tommy whispered to himself.

He trekked on through the winding path ways until he hid behind a large boulder. Tubbo had entered a massive room in the center of the cave; he couldn’t follow or he’d be caught.

His breath felt too loud in the room around him until a booming voice echoed against the rocks.

“Tubbo!”

Tommy felt his blood freeze in his veins. Carefully, he peeked out from the boulder and spotted a nightmare.

A mountain sized giant sat in the middle of the room...and Tubbo was sitting in its claws. Tommy’s eyes widened as he watched his fucking brother get picked up by a monster.

It’s massive claws dwarfed the human and he watched in absolute horror as his brother got closer and closer to the monsters mouth.

“Tubbo!” Tommy screamed once he broke out of his stupor.

And he swore the temperature in the room dropped.

The large cat-like eyes of the beast flashed at Tommy before narrowing in a terrifying way. It’s claws closed around Tubbo as it stood up with a menacing growl.

The monster reared back one of its arms as it’s long tail whipped out behind it, but before it could smash into Tommy he heard Tubbo yell out to it.

“Ranboo stop he’s a friend!”

Tommy slowly looked up at the giant who was now just glaring at the him. It’s eyes gleamed dangerously but it didn’t seem as keen on crushing him anymore which was a plus.

“Who are you?” The monster growled after a moment.

Tommy collected himself before yelling back, “No no, you’re the one trying to eat my fucking brother!”

Ranboo’s eyes widened in surprise at the human’s outburst before his ears flattened in disgust.

“Eat him?” he asked incredulously.

Suddenly Tommy caught sight of Tubbo sticking his head out from between the giant’s fingers. He waved his hands at them both with a sigh.

“This is a misunderstanding, both of you,” Tubbo said, “Ranboo this is Tommy. Tommy, Ranboo.”

The human stared wide-eyed at his brother before looking back at the giant and then back at Tubbo again.

“You fucking named it?”

Tubbo snorted and shook his head as the giant gently placed him on the ground.

“No dumbass, that’s just his name,” Tubbo smiled.

He tried to take Tommy’s hand to pull him closer but the younger immediately snatched his hand back.

“I-I’m not getting closer to that thing,” he muttered, “I don’t have a fucking death wish.”

Tubbo pouted, “Ranboo won’t hurt you, would you Boo?”

Ranboo looked down at the two and quickly shook his head. His floppy ears pressed down again his head.

“See?” Tubbo asked with a grin, “He’s safe Toms I promise. He’s like family.”

Tommy sputtered at that and flung his arms out, “What the fuck do you mean ‘family’? Im you’re fucking family!”

Tubbo sighed and shook his head again, “Of course you are idiot, he’s more like...my husband? Like a uh...a platonic husband.”

The younger boy glared at Tubbo angrily before letting his eyes meet the giant’s.

“So...he won’t hurt me?” Tommy whispered.

Tubbo let his hand fall onto Tommy’s shoulder, “Nope, as long as you can behave at least.”

Tommy stuttered out a defence before Tubbo slapped his back jokingly.

“Come on, you two should really meet, and plus it’s too dark to go home now,” Tubbo said with a bright smile, “Ranboo won’t mind you staying I promise.

Tommy snorted before Tubbo leaned close to his ear.

“He’s very comfy too big man,” Tubbo whispered jokingly before running over to the giant.

Tommy thought he saw a strange pink child for a second before a furry finger pushed him closer towards Tubbo.

Tommy’s head snapped up to Ranboo’s who gave him a soft smile.

It was strange...and still terrifying. But he would be okay with it, as long as Tubbo was fine with the monster he could be too.

#friendly giant au #corywrites #fluff #t!tommy #t!tubbo #g!ranboo #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #anon ask

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swiftiesimonriley · 4 years ago

Text

hurts like heaven (divorced! frankie x lawyer! reader)

divorced! frankie x lawyer! reader, silver linings playbook! au

rating: teen (I guess), no explicit content except for drug use

warnings: depictions and descriptions of drug use (if this makes you uncomfortable you may want to skip this one), mentions of divorce and custody battles, mention of time spent in an inpatient behavioral health setting

word count: 3.9k (WHOOPS i got excited)

a/n: I am so excited for my first frankie oneshot!! thank you so much to @hailmary-yramliah for this request, I hope you like it!! here is my masterlist, and if you have any requests you can send me an ask! also credit to @hunterschafer for the beautiful frankie gif!!

"Mr. Morales, after a thorough review of the details of this case, including but not limited to testimonies of your close friends and NA sponsor, revision of your record, and speaking with the judge who oversaw the suspension of your pilot's license, I have come to the conclusion that you are currently unfit to have full custody of your daughter. I am hereby granting full custody of Eleanor Luciana Morales to her biological mother."

The minute Francisco Morales hears the words of the family court judge before him ruling in favor of his now ex-wife, he nearly passes out.

The former Delta Force soldier vaguely heard the protests of Pope, who is the only person sitting within the rows of seats on the side of the courtroom where he currently resides. He doesn't register his lawyer uttering a half-assed apology or even the cheers from his ex-wife and her family on the other side of the room.

All he hears is white noise as the judge bangs the gavel to settle the room, explaining that Ava now will have primary and sole custody and that Frankie will only be allowed supervised visits with a social worker, and that Ava can take her daughter home today.

Their daughter.

Frankie knows he isn't perfect - fuck, he is far from it but this just seems like a sick joke.

As soon as his license was officially stripped from him, he knew his marriage was over. The tension had started almost a year earlier when Ava suspected Frankie of using, to which he vehemently denied.

Of course, it was true, but how was he supposed to explain and admit to the love of his life that he needed the cocaine flowing through his body in order to feel anything anymore.

Things began to crumble soon after the initial suspicion by Ava.

The best way Frankie thought to deal with this problem was to put some space between himself and his wife. He didn't want her to see him when he was strung out and begging for one last hit - God forbid his daughter see him like that.

In a way, Frankie was grateful that Ellie was still an infant, and that she would have no memory of the fights he had with her mother over his addiction.

He began staying out late at bars and other places downtown where he knew he could meet his dealer and get more of his fix, trying to keep it as far away from his home as possible.

After a few drinks and a successful meeting with his dealer, he would make his way home where he eventually came down, the immediate rush of guilt and sorrow filling his heart as he would return home and see the bedroom door was locked, indicating he had to crash on the couch.

It was when he stepped through the threshold of his small cottage that he felt the shame bubble up from deep inside him, knowing that he couldn't just snuggle up next to his wife and pretend things were fine, or even cradle his daughter in his arms and rock her to sleep, as on these nights Ava made sure to keep Ellie in the bedroom with her.

Those were the nights that haunted him the most.

Breaking Ava's heart was something long in the past - and he knew she wouldn't be able to just forgive him for what he put her through. She was always the one to give people the benefit of the doubt - something he used to tease her about but now feels scorned by. She was the one who stood by him when he admitted he had a problem - giving him support and resources for healing all while lending a helping hand.

She knew he wouldn't try to harm their relationship on purpose.

But when his use began to impede more on their relationship, Ava put her foot down. She was getting tired of the cycle of hurt that came with each band of withdrawal and promises of this being the "last" time, only to see her husband relapse again and again. She tried her hardest to continue supporting him, her high school sweetheart, but she had reached her limit. She started spending more time with her parents, leaving Ellie in their care for most days so she didn't have to see her father stumble through the door after a night out.

Two weeks later she served him with the divorce papers.

Frankie knows that he fucked up, be he never meant to harm Ava or Ellie along the way, especially his baby daughter, whose brown eyes were almost carbon copies of his own. He can't even stomach the idea of Eleanor growing up without her father in her life - she is his whole world, and since the day she was born he promised her that he would always be there for her.

But now, his heart aches knowing he is going home to a semi-furnished one-bedroom apartment, no wife or daughter waiting up for him like when he returned from missions or deployment.

Francisco Morales was not one to take the easy way out.

He clutches his patient belongings bag tighly in his right hand as he walks out of the lobby of the inpatient rehabilitation center, scanning the outside pickup area for a familiar truck. After looking around for a moment a truck horn beep startles him, turning to see a familiar mop of black hair peeking out of his truck.

Chuckling to himself, Frankie jogs over to the passenger side and hops in, feeling Pope immediately wrap him tightly in a hug. "I missed you Cat," he murmurs into the pilot's shoulder, giving him a comforting pat on the back before releasing the brown-haired man from his arms.

"I missed you too Santi," Frankie sighs, placing his bag down on the floor at his feet, "I don't know how much longer I could stay there without seeing a familiar face."

Santi lets out a low laugh as he starts up the truck and pulls out of the patient drop-off area before turning onto the main road. The two sit in silence for a few moments as Frankie stretches out his limbs, turning his head to look out the window as they drive down through the city.

The black haired man knows better than to pry and quiz the pilot about his 2 month stay at the local inpatient rehabilitation center. After the fallout of the trial, things got rough really fast. Santi knew deep down there was a chance of relapse, even with Frankie left the courtroom promising that this would never happen again - but it was all too much.

At 3:11 am Santi got a call from Frankie.

By 6:30 the pair were at the very same doors that Frankie had just emerged, with Santi comfortingly rubbing his hand up and down the brunette's back and they waited to check him in and head over to intake.

But Santi doesn't pry.

He just drums a tune on the steering wheel as he continues driving down the main stretch of road in the city. He watches out of the corner of his eye as they get to a red light as Frankie fixes his hair, running his fingers through the brown fringe across his forehead and he lets out a chuckle.

"What's so funny Pope? I don't wanna look like I'm fresh out of the hospital." He huffs, looking over his hair again before closing the mirror.

To say Frankie was nervous was an understatement. He had been out of the hospital for less than ten minutes and he was already on his way to meet a new lawyer. His new lawyer.

The previous week Frankie received a call from Santi during his afternoon rec time. At first he couldn't make out what the other man was saying, he remembers huffing out something the lines of "are you fucking drunk?" but made sure to keep quiet as he knew some people in the rec area didn't take too kindly to brash language.

He then remembers the hearty chuckle on the other end. "No I'm not fucking drunk 'fish, I'm excited! I just ran into one of my old college buddies-"

"Do you mean fuck buddies?" Frankie teases, letting out a quiet laugh as he hears a scoff on the other end of the line.

"No you idiot! I didn't sleep with every girl I knew back then, I know it's hard to believe," Frankie lets out a loud laugh, "I ran into an old friend of mine who went to law school, and let's just say she owes me a favor and she agreed to take on your case! Fish? Frankie?"

The pilot drops the phone as soon as the words are processed.

He has another chance. Another chance to see Ava and his baby girl. A chance to get them both back into his life for good this time, now that he has detoxed and spent his time working on his coping strategies.

They could be back in his arms once again.

"Mr. Morales? Mr. Garcia? She's ready for you."

"It's go time." Santi nods, standing up out of his seat and motioning for the pilot to follow him.

The pair make their way down the white and bright hallways of the law offices, walking past several cubicles full of lawyers and other workers chatting away before coming to an office with a glass door at the end of the hallway.

Frankie nervously plays with his fingers as Santi knocks on the door, hearing a soft "come in" from the otherside.

He follows the black haired man into the office and freezes in his tracks when he sees you get up from your desk and rush to pull Santi into a hug. He tries to keep his eyes from widening like a cartoon character but he can't help it - Santi didn't mention how gorgeous you are.

He listens to you both talk for a few moments before you reach your hand out and introduce yourself, a light smile playing at your lips. Frankie nods and takes your smaller hand in his before watching you go back to your desk. You open your laptop and pull out the file your assistant gathered on the details of the previous case.

"Mr. Mora-"

"You can call me Frankie," the pilot interjects, his cheeks turning red as you nod and take a mental note of that. "Frankie, do you want to start off at the start of your story for me? I always find it more beneficial to ask from the client's perspective about the details of the case, it makes a stronger case," you say, picking up a pen and looking at the brunette sitting across from you.

Frankie lets out a small cough and takes a soft breath in before laying his cards out on the table.

Santi stays quiet in the seat next to him, nodding along at the details of the story and offering a comforting hand on the back as one of his closest friends speaks about some of the darkest points in his life with you as if you have known him as long as you have known him.

It takes about 45 minutes of Frankie's explanations and your questioning to get all of the information you need for the initial meeting, making notes of the progress the pilot has made within the inpatient treatment center as well as Santi's testimony. You put your files away in the folder on your desk and stand up, making your way over to the two soldiers and giving them each a handshake, telling them both that you feel extremely confident in this case, and that you can't wait to help Frankie get his family back.

You can't miss the way he breaks out into a grin, probably one of the first genuine ones in a while, and you see Santi nod his head approvingly at you before giving you a quick "thanks" as the two begin to stand up and walk towards your door.

Before they leave you quickly call out to Frankie, who turns around quickly and his chocolate brown eyes lock with yours.

"What's your daughter's name?" You ask softly, watching as his posture relaxes at the mention of his pride and joy. He reaches into one of his back pockets of his jeans and pulls out a small photo from his wallet and hands it to you.

You look over the tiny photo - it must have been from the day she was born. Her big brown eyes are the same as her father's, a small smile on her face.

"Her name is Eleanor, Eleanor Luciana," he smiles, a small tear welling up in the corner of his right eye.

A smile plays at your lips as you see the absolute adoration in his eyes as he talks about her.

You know you have to win this case.

You spend the next 3 months prepping for the case.

You know this process is not an easy one, especially for Frankie. At first, he came to your office twice a week in the afternoon right after his NA meetings, most times with Santi in tow. It was awkward at first for sure - I mean it isn't fun working with a lawyer about the bad choices he had made or the fact of the matter that he feels like a piece of him has died since he has been away from his family.

Santi helped ease the tension.

When it got hard for Frankie to talk about some of the details of his drug use, or the fights he had with Ava, Santi was there to help ease the conversation and help Frankie get through it. It helped that the two knew each other like the back of their hands, with Santi being able to crack a joke at a moment's notice and bring the pilot back down to the ground.

It was when Santi brought up old memories of your time back in college that you heard real laughter from the brunette.

They weren't your proudest memories, but the way that Frankie laughed at you and Santi's old college stories brought a smile to your face and gave you a feeling of butterflies in your stomach that you didn't want to go away. You knew deep down you shouldn't feel those butterflies, especially when dealing with a client, but something about the pilot made your heart flutter.

But the minute you would feel the butterflies, like after Frankie gave you a compliment about your outfit, you would feel the guilt wash over you in waves. Frankie was a father, a former husband who was working with you in order to win back his ex. How could you feel this way about a man who was fighting through hell to get his family back.

You were just his lawyer.

Seeing him open up each time he came into your office was something that struck you deep down, knowing that being this vulnerable is something that he doesn't take lightly.

The two of you continue meeting twice a week after NA, with Frankie telling you about his feelings from his meeting and talking about his goals for this upcoming trial.

You continue preparing him with questions you know will be brought up by the family court judge, focusing on his plans for the future after his discharge from the inpatient center, focusing on the changes in behavior he has made of the past few months. His answers become more confident the harder you work, and you feel your heart start to swell as he talks about how excited he is to see his baby girl again.

But you also feel pain in your heart at the thought of the man before you leaving your life after this week.

It's the Friday night before the trial, a night you typically take off early on, but tonight is different.

Frankie was sitting here in your office earlier this week when he casually mentioned that he was getting his 6 month sober chip on Friday. Upon hearing this news you gasp and stand up from your desk, your feet carrying you over towards him before you could even register what you are doing - suddenly you realize that you have pulled him into your arms.

Frankie is shocked at first, a small "oof" escaping his lips as you held onto him, but he is grateful you cannot see the blush rising on his cheeks.

You quickly pull yourself back and subconsciously smoothing out your light green work pants before taking a step back. "I'm so proud of you 'Cat, that's so amazing!" You smile, brushing a piece of hair back behind your ear.

The pilot nods, a small smile playing at his lips.

"How about you come here on friday. You, me and Santi can have some pizza and a beer to celebrate," you suggest, watching as Frankie furrows his brow before letting out a chuckle.

"You don't ask all of your clients to have a pizza party in your office after hours do you?" He laughs, taking his hat off and fixing his brown locks before sliding it back on his head.

"I can't say that I do, but this is what Santi and I would do back in the day to celebrate, so why not celebrate this achievement before we get in the courtroom."

You chuckle, remembering the days spent in the shitty apartment Santi had off campus. "Alright I'm in." Frankie smiles, "I'll bring the beers."

That night the three of you sit on the floor of your office like kids and chuckle at old stories, both from college and from the boy's times spent overseas. You watch as Frankie laughs at something Santi says and you feel the pain in your heart return, knowing that in a few short days your client would be back to his old life, and you would be stuck here back in the real world at your job. You know it's wrong, but these past months have been different than any other case you have taken on.

You know Frankie is going to be able to go back to his family after all of this - he is stronger than when this whole ordeal started and he has the support to prevent another relapse.

Hell, you are proud of him outside of work, knowing this process wasn't easy - but the idea of this man walking out of your life brings you sadness. Knowing he won't be in your office twice a week for hours, cracking jokes and talking about nothing in particular towards the end.

Sometimes you wonder what things would be like if you met under other circumstances. Maybe you two would have a shot - walking hand in hand at the local farmer's market, singing karaoke at the bar with Santi, Benny and Will, or even going on a flight with him.

You even opened up to him, telling him things even Santi doesn't know. But you need to remember why you are here - to win this for your client.

"Mr. Morales, after going over the details of this case, I see the dedication you have made towards your rehabilitation and future. I have talked with the treatment team at Maple Grove rehabilitation as well as your NA sponsor, and based on all of the information I have gathered is that you are fit to have custody of your daughter. You will now have shared custody of Eleanor Luciana Morales."

Before you can properly process the words of the judge, you feel two strong arms wrap around your torso and lift you in the air. You feel a blush come over your cheeks as you hear Frankie saying "thank you" over and over again as he sets you back down on the ground.

You both simultaneously pull back and hide your blushes as you thank the judge for his discretion and you faintly hear the bang of the gavel in the background as the court is dismissed.

You don't miss the way Ava storms out of the courtroom with her family and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Santi walks over to the two of you and pulls you both into a hug, rubbing a hand comfortingly up and down your back and thanking you for everything you did.

You nod as Santi pulls back and turns to his brother in arms, chatting about something you can't quite hear as you begin to pack up your white briefcase, pausing when you see a photo of Ellie on the table.

Since the beginning of the trial Frankie felt the nerves wash over him as this suddenly felt so real. You had suggested that he bring in a picture of Eleanor to place on the table so that whenever he became nervous, he could look down and see who he was doing this all for. Seeing the photo now brings tears to the corners of your eyes and you close up your briefcase - turning around to see that Santi has left the courtroom, just leaving you and Frankie.

"I just wanted to say thank you, for everything," he says softly, nervously scratching at the hair at the nape of his neck.

You nod curtly, trying to ignore the sore feeling in your throat - a telltale sign that you were about to cry.

Frankie tilts his head in confusion and walks closer, reaching out and grabbing your smaller hands in his. "I mean it - you have helped me through this whole process, and you are the reason I get to see Eleanor again, and for that I cannot thank you enough."

His words cut through you like knives - you knew this was coming. Your job is over, and it's time for him to move on.

"All in a day's work," you chuckle quietly, having to look down at your shoes to avoid letting the tears fall.

You suddenly feel softy fingers tilt your head up. Blinking through your lashes you see the pilot looking at you with only adoration in his eyes. You lock onto his chocolate orbs and nod slightly as he moves closer, softly crashing your lips against his.

You feel his strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling him flush against his chest in a soft yet comforting way. You find yourself getting lost in the moment, one of your hands tangling in his hair as he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

A moment later you both pull away, leaning your forehead against his as he lets out a small chuckle.

"I've been wanting to do that forever," he smiles, locking eyes with you once again, "I had to wait until I wasn't your client anymore, I didn't want to make it awkward or unethical."

You smile at his confession, brushing a piece of his brunette locks out of his eyes.

"Well now that you are no longer my client, would you like to go grab a beer?" You ask, looking at the way his eyes light up at your question.

"I would love that."

He watches as you grab your briefcase and wraps an arm around your waist as the two of you head for the courtroom doors.

He feels his heart swell in his chest knowing he not only has Eleanor back in his life, but now he has you too.

taglist: @hailmary-yramliah @babyprim @shadowolf993 @jasterslegacy @collectorofexperiences

#frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish Morales x reader #triple frontier #pedro pascal characters #my writing

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quirklessidiot · 4 years ago

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Drabble #5 : high school reunions :: You’re kind of hesitant to meet his old high school friends but Atsumu says he’ll knock some sense into them if they said anything funny. [slice of life/fluff+ mild angst + coward au series]

Notes: and here ya go, this one was requested twice and its actually kind of cute how this kinda ties Y/N’s relationship with atsumu’s ex fwends skksks anyways sorry for the late updates :3

Read the story here!

You weren’t exactly keen with the idea of attending Atsumu’s reunion with his teammates back in high school. For one, you were kind of nervous since you were sure you had a bad rep. Another would be because you’d see Aran and last time you parted ways, it was in sour terms.

Atsumu says he’s willing to fess up on anyone who tried to make you feel bad in your reunion and you’re happy, of course, by your fiancé’s willingness with the whole ordeal but the anxiety wouldn’t just leave you especially now that you’re in front of the gym that they used to train on back in high school.

“‘Kaasan, are you alright?” Yuuto asks, noticing your expression.

Atsumu stops in his tracks and turns to you, Youta is on his father’s arms, ghosting the same expression as his twin.

“Y/N if this is too much I-” Atsumu tries to say but you break it off with a quick nod and a small smile.

“I’m fine, atsumu.”

“You sure? We can go hom-”

“Ah there goes my favorite love birds.” Osamu exclaims, you look up to find your fiance’s twin standing there with his usual expression, “And my favorite nephews too!”

“Uncle ‘samu we’re your only nephews.” Yuuto deadpans.

“Hey, watch it!” He frowns, walking up to the four of you, “All the guys are waiting for ya, tsumu. They’re excited to see the two and Y/N too.”

“Why don’t you take Youta and Yuuto for a sec, I forgot something in the car.” The blonde setter says, putting his son down so he can wobble to his Uncle. Osamu quirks a brow but when he reads the room, he decides to just distract the kids and lead them inside. Leaving you two standing there alone under the quiet night, “Hey, you know you don’t have to do this.” Atsumu turns to you, holding your hand.

“I can’t keep running away from your friends.”

“You’re not running.” Atsumu replies, squeezing it to comfort you, “I know how anxious you are, I know you’re nervous that Aran’s there too, he doesn’t hate you, by the way.”

“I literally ghosted you and broke up with you on the phone.” You mumbled, shaking your head in dismay, “I have every right to have everyone hate me.”

“Hey, you had a reason for that too, ya know.” Atsumu grumbles, “If Osamu is chill with it, I’m sure Aran-san would react the same. If he does anything funny, I swear I’ll kick’e-”

“You’ll what?”

You immediately glance towards the door of the gym to find the one and only Aran Ojiro standing there in all his glory, you feel your heart beating a bit faster than normal, he grew up well, time did everyone well it seemed. Last time you saw him was in college, he was in his last year and you were on your third, like Osamu and Shion, he didn’t really approve of your relationship with Atsumu because of your exterior back then.

“Hey Aran-san.” Atsumu greets, a funny and faux nervous smile on his lips, “Jus’ saying I’m gonna kick yer ass if ya do anything funny to Y/N.”

Aran rolls his eyes as he approach you two, “After seeing your two kids, I’m more worried that you’re going to do something funny to Y/N. How could you not even notice she was pregnant back then?” he exclaims, flicking a finger on his kohai’s forehead, “Hey L/N-san, sorry about him. If he wasn’t a dense idiot, you’d probably wouldn’t have a hard time living alone all those six years.”

“Hey, it wasn’t obvious ya know!”

The pair started to bicker and your eyes soften, it seemed like things were alright after all. You trailed behind them as you entered the gym, “‘Kaasan! ‘Kaasan! Suna-ojisan says otosan tried to follow Hinata-ojisan and Tobio-ojisan’s quick back in high school and they lost a game because of that!” Youta exclaims, looking at his father funnily.

“Hey! What have you been saying to my kid!” Atsumu exclaims, walking up to his teammate with a rather cat-like appearance, that man must’ve been Suna, your kids were awfully friendly with the team already.

“Sorry.”

Your gaze slowly directs to Aran whose hands were stuffed in his pockets, “I don’t know the full story, obviously. But ‘samu and shion sorta filled me in with some details, saying that you got scared about the pregnancy especially since you two were still in college.” he blinks, “Guess we made it harder for you because we were dicks back then who didn’t approve of the relationship.”

“Ah.” You shrugged, “It’s no worry, in a way it was my fault too.”

“For real?” Aran replies, brows upturned, “The way I see it, you both were just too damn in love and kept running around in circles.”

You feel your gaze soften as you watch Atsumu being the center of jokes once again as his two sons relentlessly tease him about the embarrassing moments that Suna and Osamu were retelling, “I guess so.” you mumbled.

“You must be L/N-san.” a voice exclaims, you turn to find a grey-haired man standing there who awfully reminded you of Bokuto, except this one seemed more uptight than the latter one, “Ah yes, L/N-san. This is Kita Shinsuke, our captain.”

“Oh, I’ve heard so much about you even back then.” You blinked, holding out your hand for him to shake, “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

“You’ve got nice and polite children. You’ve raised them very well.” Kita compliments you as he shakes your hand, making you smile softly, he seemed nicer than the stories Atsumu would tell.

“Y/N!” Atsumu drawled, running to the three of you, “They’re bullying me!”

“Ah you must be L/N-san.” Suna exclaims, walking up to you quickly, you weren’t sure if he was happy to see you since he had the same blank features on his face, “Are you sure you want to marry him? You can still pawn the ring off.”

You broke down into a soft chuckle, “You shouldn’t say that Suna-ojisan, kaasan gets really lovey-dovey to otosan when ‘samu-ojisan says that.” Yuuto crinkles his nose in disgust as he recalled the past memory.

The group bursts into laughter and Aran finally sees something different than the last time he saw you two, this time it was you two staring at each other with open affection and he couldn’t be anymore proud about how things were going for his teammate.

#haikyuu imagines #haikyu scenarios #haikyuu #haikyuu drabbles #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagine #atsumu scenarios #atsumu x reader

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ceoofanticatradora · 4 years ago

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We need more anti C//A who are Adora stans (like you seem to be) so that people can understand that C///A is bad for Adora. Heck C//A is bad for Catra too, but the shippers don't seem to realize it. If Catra had been able to let Adora go maybe she could have healed instead of her festering and the abuse may have ended instead of escalated.

Hello Dear, welcome on my Blog and a big thank you for your message! Firstly I wanna apologize that this response is reaching you more than three full days, almost four later. Just real life getting into the way of my online presence (at least I got my A-Levels admission!) but I assure you that replying to you was on my To Do List the entire time. And while I could've typed something quick, I thought you deserved a full length response just as much as the person before you received. That goes for anyone really to ask/write me anything in the future.

Adora is a character that has flaws, her own interests, things she struggles with/is insecure about etc. but she also still works on being better (up to Season 5). This makes her relatable, fleshed out and overall three dimensional. Overall for me that makes Adora very likeable. Which is funny because when I first watched the show I thought of her as too goofy and felt like she as a character was overall just flat. Her character design did not speak to me either, the ponytail with the weird hair poof and these pointy shoulders of her jacket just really were not my taste. Isn't it amazing how perceptions can change?

As you can guess from that description I did not always stan Adora and she's probably still not my favorite character but over the almost two years I've been in this fandom I've grown rather fond of her. Other important characters to me are Kyle (a very relatable comfort character of mine, he learned to stand up for himself and others and I support that, f*ck Season 5 for barely acknowledging his existence), Lonnie (apart from treating Kyle badly (which I really do NOT support or excuse) I really love her, man, some women just do me like that, I mean she really stood up to Catra like that), Entrapta (I'm autistic too! It's great to have some representation, seeing the ableism/treatment she experiences in the show is not so much though), Seahawk (I don't even know why, I have some issues with his behavior towards Mermista at times but overall I love this dork), Scorpia (she reminds me of myself so much and I really wanna give her hugs, I'm so glad she chose to no longer let Catra treat her like that even though I will be forever salty she just immediately forgave her), Peekablue (I can explain this even less than Seahawk, especially since it was not even really him in the end but his existence somehow helped me cope with Season 5, without him I probably would've left this fandom ... and also my favorite color is blue) and Double Trouble (now there's enough people already critcizing how they're not exactly great Non-binary representation but this dramatic lizard will forever be in my heart, that reality check they gave Catra, basically slapping her in the face with facts was satisfying as h*ck, also I like lizards overall).

Now there's plenty of characters I like, dislike (or even hate) or am simply indifferent about but after all this is not a tier list but me talking about Adora, Catra and Catradora. Adora started off as this girl that was so sure what she was doing is right but once she was taught differently she was willing to leave everything she knew (except Catra, because she valued her despite everything) behind. And not only that, she broke out of the abuse cycle that Catra tried so hard to keep upright. And that is exactly what makes Adora such a good role model. She teaches children (or people) that:

Your past doesn't define what/who you are or what/who you can become

-> Adora used to be a Horde soldier and did not know where she came from, but nonetheless she found herself a family and became a hero that saved thousands of people

You can always change your mind and start a new life if you feel disappointed in what you are doing/who you are as a person

-> Basically the exact same point, Adora started a new life as she saw what the Horde really was and changed her mind about who to fight for

You deserve love too, be it platonic or romantic (or se*ual???) (If you're aro and/or ace just ignore the part that does not work for you)

-> While Adora for various reasons thought her only use was to please others and meet their needs and expectations (mostly due to Shadow Weaver and Catra) she learned to accept that she too deserves love and validation (if the love aspect would not have been focused on it being romantic love so she could smooch Catra in the finale this would've been a billion times better because she got love from her friends that showed her her real value)

You can walk away from something/someone, that does not make you egoistic/selfish

-> Adora walked away from the Horde, after Catra stubbornly refused to come with her despite many offers (basically Catra broke the promise, not Adora) from her too and that did not make her a "traitor" or "selfish", h*ck, Adora in the end did this for a bigger purpose too, even if part of it was her not wanting to live with such wrong morals

Your opinions, feelings etc. about a person/something can change and that is perfectly fine and valid, being able to change is part of what makes someone human

-> Adora's views on many things changed throughout the show: The Horde and the Rebellion, the First Ones, Catra, being She-Ra, herself, her priorities and so on ... she actually makes use of her brain, which is why Catra saying "Don't you ge it?" or calling her an idiot and dumb never sat right with me, she's a realistic character for shifting with her thoughts, feelings etc. and sometimes just does not fully think things through

You don't have to let other people treat you like sh*t (just because they have some issues they never worked through does not give them any right to let it out on you)

-> This point is obviously centered mostly around Catra and her abusing Adora almost every chance she gets, which is why Adora standing up for herself and not letting Catra blame her for her own decisions and mistakes is so important, "You made your choice, now live with it" is one of the most powerful lines throughout all the five Seasons

Now I'm sure there is still more to Adora's character than what I just listed and unfortunately almost all the points basically got pushed aside, well, Adora as a character got pushed aside in Season 5. All her growth, the things that made me love her, see her as great role model for so many people robbed of their value for the sake of making everything revolve around Catra. That brings me to her and how you are absolutely right that Catradora is harmful to both characters. Of course Adora is affected most by it in the end but Catra too is obviously suffering under the fandoms obsession and just the overall idea of them being romantically involved.

Just like with Adora the stans make almost everything about Catra over her relationship with Adora. She too can barely exist outside of it and if she wasn't the fan favorite she'd most likely would too be mostly in Fanarts that include Adora and not just her (if you google "Catra Fanart" most content is still Catra and Catra only but here and there Catradora still peaks through). But for whatever reason the fandom still views her more as her own person as the other ones? Catrouble and Scorptra Shippers might actually still get less hate than Glimmadora Shippers (I'm not denying they don't get any, they most certaintly do) which is just plain hypocricy and favorism. Kinda like the: A woman needs to be loyal to her husband and her husband only but if the husband wants to be active with other women that is perfectly fine because "that is just how men are" or how i like to call it ... sexism. Now in this case they are both women so it's not sexism but yo do get my point.

But much more importantly, Catra has an unhealthy obsession with Adora. Signs of that are for example:

Constantly talking about Adora, even when said person is not around (to Shadow Weaver, Scorpia etc.)

Obsessing over having control over Adora like in that one Episode "Are you kidding? I finally got control over Adora, I'm not giving that up!"

Building her entire character and her actions around Adora "We need to take Adora down", "Adora left me", "I'd rather see the whole world end than see you win!", also shown in Season 5 where she states she does save Glimmer only for Adora and not for Glimmer or to do the right thing

Getting aggressive or very emotional over Adora like clawing the wall, having nightmares etc. (destructive behavior towards herself and others)

Having no or barely any characteristics outside of her relationship with Adora like, we don't know her interests or likes and dislikes outside of being evil, obsessed with Adora, being abused by Shadow Weaver ...

Trying to force Adora to meet her needs and expectations regardless of Adora's owns

Sacrificing her oppurtunity to be happy in the Crimson Waste for the sake of her Adora obsession and being better than her at all costs

So yes, you were very right with saying that not putting Catra in a relationship with Adora would've benefited both characters. Catra could've learned to exist on her own, develop interests and a life outside of Adora. Learn to accept herself and eventually come to terms with her childhood abuse. She could've been free and not "the abusive cat girl that ended up with the person she unhealthily obsessed over to the point of no return" she kinda is now. Even if we ignore the whole "dating your long term abuser" part from Adora's side and "being rewarded" for horrible behavior, Catra alone is not giving a good example to people watching. As much as I dislike Catra, disdain her even, an ending where she is dependent on Adora, unable to stand on her own two legs after she led armies in war is not what I would wish for her, even with a decent redemption arc (that she did not get).

#anti catradora #anti c//a #anti catra #spop critical #response #my post #spop salt #ocd #role model #anti catra stans #anti catradora stans #comfort character #adora deserves better #honestly its worse once you know its not just bad for adora #anti+catra #anti+catradora

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jadethest0ne · 4 years ago

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In need of Refueling, Chapter 12 - “He was supposed to be”

Summary: “You?! Why would I trust you? You have brought me nothing but failure. Time and time again; nothing but disappointment!”

His father’s words might have been a result of his possession by the White Bone Spirit, but whether or not they were his true thoughts, Red Son vows to prove them wrong. To do so he seeks to attain a power strong enough to destroy his father’s immortal enemy. After all, he’d much rather throw fire at his problems.

Word Count: 3241

Ratings/Warnings: Teen and up; injury, burns, angst and hurt/comfort, toxic thoughts caused by toxic parents, panic attacks, abuse

Notes: Red Son is brooding, Mei finds out that Red Son is Sandy’s house guest, and Sandy is trying his best to deal with two rowdy teens.

Credits: Big thanks to @painted-arachnid and @simplyfornardo for helping me bounce ideas off of them. And also thanks to @lemonsqueazie for providing me with “Journey to the West” lore. I don’t know much about the original novel or other iterations, but I still tried to keep some things compliant with the lore. You should check all of them out, since they’re really great content creators with neat ideas!

Read on AO3

———-

All in all, Red Son had received a lot of injuries from his conflict with his father. Broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, a broken arm, burns, hypothermia (including a lingering cold sensation all over his body that refused to go away), a sprained ankle...

And no powers.

That last one gave him pause. Injuries could be healed with time, and as a demon, he was a fast healer. But he did not know what happened to his powers. Were they really all absorbed by his father’s armor? Were they then extinguished by whatever that Noodle Boy did? He didn’t even know that it could be extinguished. It had to have been though, because based on what little he could get out of Sandy, the Monkey King had survived the conflict. Red Son isn’t sure how he feels about that. Sure, he had attacked him and intended to have him defeated by his father. But that’s not how things turned out. That’s not what his father wanted. And despite him giving the Samadhi Fire to his father, which is what he thought he wanted, that turned out to be disastrous as well. Were his parents even alive? And if they were, what would they want with someone who had nearly gotten them killed? What would they want with a son who didn’t even have any powers? In this state he was useless. Relying on the enemy, no less. How shameful.

Red Son had tried a few times to activate his powers. Each time he was met with not even a puff of smoke. If his parents thought he was a disappointment before, what would they think of him now?

At the very least he was making progress physically, and could hobble around the houseboat a little bit on his own. The Blue One said he could leave when he was better. But where could he go? He didn’t want to think about it. He wanted to just be able to do something about it. But he could no longer simply throw fire at his problems. And no matter what anger and vitriol he sent Sandy’s way, the blue giant simply refused to be upset at him. Why didn’t he just kick him out? He certainly deserved it! His own parents likely wouldn’t want him around, why would an enemy?

So when he wasn’t yelling at Sandy, or his numerous cats, he just withdrew into himself. Fuming with no fire. Brooding over his current situation. What was the point anyway? A small part of him wanted to know if his parents were okay. As much as he was sure they would hate him, they were his parents, after all. But the thought of trying to find them terrified him in a way. On one hand, if they were alive, he was useless to them like this. If they weren’t… well, he didn’t want to think about how that would mean that it was his fault if they were dea--

Red Son angrily throws the closest thing near him across the room, which happened to be a mug of tea that he was holding. It flies across the room just missing a few cats who leap out of the way with an indignant hiss. The cup breaks apart and spills its contents all over the floor. He takes some seething breaths, before a voice speaks up next to him.

“Well that’s a much stronger throw than before. At least you’re healing!” Red Son had forgotten that the Blue One was there. He had given him the tea in the first place after all. Red Son had just gotten lost in his musings and forgot about the ever-present, overly pleasant companion. The big man goes over and gets a broom. “However, maybe we could find other, more constructive, ways for you to release your anger?”

“Ugh! Don’t try to give me life lessons! What are you, some sort of life advice guru?”

The Blue One laughs heartily, while picking out some of the larger shards. “No, I’ve just learned how to control my anger via anger management therapy. And I’m always open to listening if you want a friendly ear,” he says brightly.

Red Son can’t imagine this guy ever being angry, and the idea of talking about his feelings makes his stomach bubble in disgust. “What? So I can give away all my family’s secrets? Why would you care anyway?”

The Blue One shrugs. “I just do!” He pauses and thinks. “And also, maybe I could ask you to maybe not throw my cups and scare my cats…?” He ends the last part in a hopeful lilt.

“No promises,” Red Son grumbles.

“What do you normally do to de-stress?”

“Destroy my enemies.” Red Son looks pointedly at Sandy.

“Ah… um… would throwing fire around (preferably in a contained area) help?” Sandy asks hesitantly.

Red Son scowls. “No.”

“Would you like to try contacting your parents…?”

An uncomfortable flutter pangs in his heart. “No.”

“What about, er, a hobby or…?

Red Son is getting fed up. “WOULD YOU JUST STOP!” he shouts. “We are not friends! We are enemies! You are the good guys! I’m the bad guy! The villain. Stop trying to be all buddy-buddy with me! If you’re trying to change me or get me to open up, it’s not going to work!”

“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to figure out what would make you feel better… Maybe healing up at your place would make you feel safer…?” Sandy looks truly apologetic, but Red Son is already too worked up to care. Furthermore, bringing up the possibility of going to see his parents causes that fluttering feeling to worsen.

“No! I can’t go back! I--”

Sandy raises his eyebrows. And Red Son shuts his mouth suddenly realizing what he almost revealed. The Blue One nearly had done it! How dare he. He hates him for that. For his stupid honest niceness. He hates that he is here. That he let down his father, again. That he has to rely on a big-hearted idiot of an enemy. He needs to leave. He doesn’t have anywhere to go. But he needs to leave.

He clumsily slips out of bed and does an awkward combination of stomping and limping past the Blue One and towards the door, ignoring the giant’s protests.

He swings open the door and he sucks in a surprised yelp as standing on the other side of it is a girl with green highlights in her hair, and pigtails sticking up from behind, with her fist to the door poised to knock on it. It’s the Dragon Girl. The two stare at each other. They exchange blinks of confusion.

The Dragon Girl is the first to react. Her surprised features shift into a look of pure rage. “YOU!” she shouts.

She flings herself at Red Son, elbowing him in the middle and throwing him across the room. Pain explodes from his various injuries, especially from his ribs and chest area. He crumples to the ground and barely has time to react as she is pulling a sword on him. He rolls out of the way, under a table and pulls himself up using an adjacent book case. He slips a little bit, and is forced to put weight on his injured ankle, which burns horribly, but he needs to get away from this crazy and enraged attacker.

He leans on the far end of the bookcase and holds up a hand. “W-wait!” he wheezes out before he devolves into coughs and choking gasps. He stumbles as he backpedals away from another swing and falls again to the floor. He grabs desperately at anything in his surroundings that can help pull him up, but the pain drags him back down again.

The tip of the sword is pointed at his center and he flinches back. He can’t do much but cough some more. When no attack comes, he chances a look up at his attacker. She’s looking at him with a paranoid gaze, which flickers up and down in confusion, but she does not lower her weapon.

“What are you doing here, Red Son?!” she yells.

Red Son does his best to regain his breath. When he does he shouts back, though not as loud or as strong as he wants it to be. “I was brought here, Dragon Girl! By your blue friend, no less! So- so back off or I’ll burn you to a crisp!”

The threat is empty. He knows it is. And even if she doesn’t, she knows she has the upper hand. He can’t hide his injuries or look powerful, half curled up on the floor and locked down by her sword. But he won’t appear weak. Not to her.

“Mei!” calls the Blue One, as he stands up from the floor, stepping carefully over the glass on the floor and rushing into the adjacent area to move between the girl and the demon.

“Sandy! Are you okay? What is Red Son doing here? Is he hurting you? Is he--”

“He’s injured!” Sandy says with some amount of exasperation quickly shuffling over and kneeling down by Red Son’s side. He puts a hand on the demon’s back and offers another for him to take to support him. Red Son stays silent and looks down, as Sandy helps him up.

“What?!” Pure incredulity drips from the Dragon Girl’s voice. “Are- are you helping him?!”

When he’s able to set Red Son upright, and leans him against a nearby cabinet, he looks to the girl and rubs the back of his head absently. “Er, yes, I am.”

She continues to give him a questioning look.

“He was hurt!” Sandy says simply. “I had to, Mei.”

The girl looks between the two of them, before sighing and lowering her sword. “I was wondering why we hadn’t heard from you much.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys. I was hoping to tell you first instead of you finding out this way. Are you… mad?” The big man looks small, like a child revealing that they had snuck a cookie out of a cookie jar.

“It’s not you I’m upset at, it’s him. I don’t trust him. You could get into trouble. What if the Demon Bull family comes and attacks you? What if he burns down the houseboat?!” Red Son gets dizzy at the range of emotions that cross the girl’s features and body language as she talks, from a distrusting glance to panicky waving arms to exaggerated sweeps of her entire body. He remembers why he finds this group so annoying. And even moreso, he is annoyed at being left out of the conversation.

“Excuse me, I am standing right here!” he says with as much afront as he can muster.

“That’s the problem, Red Boy!”

“It’s Red Son to you, Dragon Girl!”

“Oh and now who is getting the names wrong?”

“I don’t stoop to uttering the names of peasants!”

“Shut up! You shouldn’t even be here! Do you know how much pain you caused! Sandy is here helping you, and you don’t deserve any of it!”

“Now now--” Sandy tries interjecting, but is caught in the middle of a now shouting match.

“That’s because you’re all so styoooopidly sappy! I’m GLAD I attacked you! You weaklings are too noble for your own good!” A smile spreads on his face seeing he’s getting under the girl's skin. It made him feel stronger. Shouting let out his pent up frustration from earlier. And banter with the Noodle Boy’s friends made things feel normal for once.

Mei shouts back at Red Son, contempt and hatred dripping from her words. "You hurt my friend! You nearly destroyed the Monkey King!!! You and your dumb dad! I bet DBK is proud of you!"

Red Son’s smile drops immediately and something in him snaps at the mention of his father, and before he can stop himself, the words come out. "HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE!"

There is a beat of silence and Red Son had a moment to realize what he said. He hadn't meant to bring up his father in such a way. How weak is he that he keeps revealing his inner thoughts to his enemies? His heart hammers against his ribs in shame and embarrassment, and he’s about to babble out some excuse, when the Dragon Girl speaks instead.

"He was supposed to be what? Destroyed?"

What?

"Well, you know what? You failed to destroy the Monkey King. And it was the Monkey Kid who beat both of you!"

A spark of relief lights in Red Son's chest. The girl thinks he was talking about the Monkey King. Not his father. She had misunderstood his shout. He pushes down his shock and embarrassment, and forces a well-practiced sneer onto his lips. "Y-yes! The Monkey King was supposed to be destroyed! You just got lucky, that's all!"

The girl gives him a hate-filled look. Just the way it should be.

But when he looks over at Sandy, he sees confusion. And… sadness? Perhaps a bit of worry. Well, they should be worried and sad and angry at him! They should both be afraid. And weakened or not, Red Son isn't going to let them forget that he is still a force to be reckoned with!

He fixes the Dragon Girl with what he hopes looks like a dangerous scowl. "Next time I'll be more thorough in my destruction!"

The girl doesn't look quite as frightened as Red Son would've hoped, but at the very least she clamps her loud mouth shut. She then sighs and turns to Sandy. "I don't know why you helped him. I don't think this is the kind of guy who can be saved."

Red Son's chest burns uncomfortably. It must be because of that shove she gave him earlier, exacerbating his wounds, and not the hopelessness of her statement.

Sandy shrugs and replies simply, “I've got to try, don't I?"

The girl's lips spread in a small smile of understanding and pats the large man's arm. "Yeah, and that's what's cool about you, my friend."

Sandy beams widely. But his expression switches to nervousness. "You won't tell the others, will you, Mei?"

She quirks an eyebrow up and gives him a look. "Sandy, MK is my best friend. I tell him practically everything," she deadpans.

Sandy wilts a bit, but the girl gives him another reassuring pat and says, "But I'll ask them to leave him alone…,” she shoots Red Son a dark look as she finishes her statement, “...for now.” Switching back to something more friendly, she returns her attention to Sandy. "So you better come clean yourself, soon, and give us a better explanation."

"Of course!" Sandy brightens.

With that the girl exits the houseboat, leaving Red Son and Sandy alone.

There is silence between them. Sandy looks at Red Son, and the demon does his best to not notice.

“Did she hurt you much?” Sandy sounds both worried and a bit embarrassed.

“I’m fine.” Red Son says too quickly.

Sandy comes closer and reaches a hand towards him. Red Son flinches back and the motion causes his whole body to wobble. Before he can fall back down, Sandy catches him. Red Son goes stiff and Sandy makes sure to give him some room once he regains his footing.

“Sorry.” Sandy shifts where he stands. “I noticed that one of your bandages is loose.” He gestures to a bandage on his wrist. “I may have to check you over again and re-do your bandages… If that’s okay…?”

Red Son’s chest burns again. He hates this. But he nods anyway. “Okay.”

Slowly, Sandy goes about washing and re-bandaging Red Son’s wounds. Luckily nothing was hurt too badly, but some bandages did come loose during the scuffle, and a few deeper burns had to be cared for.

They stayed mostly silent throughout much of it. Until Sandy finally spoke up. “Did you mean what you said earlier? About how ‘he was supposed to be.’” He was sitting behind Red Son working on some of the bandages on his back, and Red Son was glad for this so he didn’t see his eyes widen in alarm.

“Of- of course! I definitely meant to destroy the Monkey King and bring him to my father as a prize.” Red Son tries to keep his voice steady.

Sandy is silent for a moment as if trying to find his words. “Were you really talking about the Monkey King then? Not… someone else?”

“I-- don’t know what you mean…” The words come out stiff and stilted.

“I thought…” he began, before giving a sigh. “I guess I misinterpreted what you were saying.”

“Yes, I suppose you did.” Red Son answers curtly.

After a bit more silence Sandy continues. “Have you made any progress with your powers…?”

Red Son twists around suddenly giving Sandy a wide-eyed stare. “How did you know about my powers!?” The movement hurts, but the ache of sudden vulnerability is worse.

“I noticed you trying to throw some fireballs and stuff over the past few days… And also you didn’t attack Mei. Or me, for that matter. So I just… guessed”

Red Son feels small. Like the world is pressing in around him. The Blue One’s large form, not helping. And the pain radiating from his wounds makes the sensation worse. He pushes himself away from the blue giant as he starts shivering again, the cold suddenly feeling more apparent. Everything is suddenly fuzzy, like when he first noticed that his powers were gone. But now Sandy knew, and his friends might find out. And if they found out, then maybe his parents would know. They’d know just how weak he was. His chest is pulsing with pain and he isn’t sure why. It feels like the Dragon Girl hitting him over and over again.

Warmth is suddenly draped around him. The downy sensation of a comforter holds his form. He notices that his breaths are rapid and that’s what was hurting his chest. “Breathe,” a voice calls. So he obeys. Slowly, his breaths return to normal. The blankets surrounding him give the feeling of being cradled, but not trapped, and the warmth brings his trembling to a minimum.

“Red Son,” the voice he now recognizes as Sandy calls. “Do you hear what I am saying?”

The demon looks up, meeting the Blue One’s eyes, and gives a short nod.

“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to. I don’t think you are weak. You are just injured and healing, and that’s okay. I won’t tell anyone,” Sandy’s calm voice is reassuring. But Red Son worries about how much he might’ve just babbled.

Sandy gives him a few more moments to calm down before talking to him again. “I finished working on your bandages. I can get you some tea if you want.” Then he gives a small knowing smile at him. “If you promise not to throw the mug…”

Red Son looks the gentle giant up and down. He slowly shifts into a more comfortable and relaxed position on the bed, and huddles down into the blankets more. He doesn’t smile, but he sounds and feels more like himself in his response. “No promises.”

Sandy’s smile reaches his eyes and he goes off to make more tea.

Red Son manages to not throw the mug this time.

start || <– previous // next –>

#lmk #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #in need of refueling #red son #sandy #mei #angst #hurt/comfort #comfhurt #injury #panic attacks #fanfiction #lmk fanfic #lmk fanfiction #my writing #jadethest0ne #inor

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theloneliestshipper · 4 years ago

Note

I saw you were taking random prompts and I thought of this lol. Boba and Leia are both single parents and somehow their kids meet and the kids hatch a plan to get their parents together? like a parent trap situation but the kids aren’t siblings & Boba and Leia aren’t divorced?

AO3 link

Family Weekend

Rated G

“This is quite an event,” Leia noted, looking around at the gathering of students and family members. “Were you expecting such a large turnout?”

“No, but I’m glad so many came.” Luke was also surveying the mountainside clearing. “I said I wanted this Jedi order to be more transparent, and letting their families see what they’re doing is part of that.” He turned back to her and grinned. “Plus it’s a two day camping trip. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“I guess you’ll find out.” Leia spotted Ben, who had claimed two woven mats for them at the far side of the circle. When she drew closer she saw that Grogu was with him. “It’s no wonder they get along so well,” Han had remarked after meeting the little creature. “He doesn’t talk and Ben talks enough for both of them.”

“His dad couldn’t come,” Ben reported to Leia as she sat down cross-legged on one of the mats. Grogu’s ears twitched and his head lowered.

“Sit with us,” Leia invited, patting the mat. Grogu shuffled over to join them as Luke moved into the center of the circle.

“Okay, we’ll get started now. Thank you for coming. I hope this will help you feel connected to what your child is learning. For the first exercise we’ll be doing a meditation similar to the ones we use in training. Please find a mat and get comf-”

A gasp from the sidelines drew everyone’s attention away from Luke. A man in Mandalorian armor was difficult to ignore. Especially when that man was Boba Fett.

“I’m here for Grogu,” he announced. “His dad asked me to come in his place.”

Grogu perked up immediately and made a happy noise, diffusing some of the tension. Luke smiled at him. “Of course.” He turned back to the bounty hunter. “You can take your seat with him. We were just about to start.”

“Oh great,” Leia murmured when she realized who her neighbor would be. Ben looked up at her, concerned.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just someone I haven’t seen in a while.” She smiled stiffly at Fett as he approached. “Never expected to see you here.”

“That makes two of us.” He lowered himself onto the mat, imitating her cross-legged position. Grogu made a happy noise and put a small hand on his knee.

“Where’s your tent?” Ben asked.

“No one said anything to me about a tent.” When Grogu’s ears pricked up Fett’s helmet tilted in his direction. “Never mind, ad’ika. We’ll sleep under the stars.”

The mediation exercises were familiar to Leia, but she found it hard to concentrate with the bounty hunter beside her. For the last meditation stage Luke invited everyone to lay on their mats and focus on the sky as the first stars of the evening emerged.

“Think about the people who aren’t here with us,” Luke coached from the center of the circle. “See the stars and in the sky and feel the connection between every living thing in the galaxy.”

Some movement caught Leia’s eye and she turned her head just enough to see Grogu laying on Fett’s stomach instead of the mat, his eyes in the sky. “Thinking about your dad?” Fett inquired in a low voice. Grogu made a soft noise and turned over, pressing his cheek against the bounty hunter’s beskar chestplate. His hand came up to pat Grogu’s back.

After the meditation exercise was dinner. R2-D2 circled around with sandwiches and cups of hot broth while Luke built a fire in the center of the circle. The temperature was dropping steadily.

Fett removed his helmet to eat, drawing a few more curious stares from the other attendees. No one was rude enough to say anything about the scars that covered his face and scalp. Leia watched Ben closely to make sure he didn’t comment or stare, but Ben didn’t seem surprised. Perhaps Grogu had said something to him or perhaps, Leia realized, Ben had seen him before. If Fett had somehow become a member of Grogu’s circle, it was possible he had been here before with Grogu’s father.

As she ate she tried to come with a polite way of asking about his connection but for once her verbosity failed her. It was probably better if she just minded her own business. She was preparing to head towards her tent when she realized that Fett was moving towards her. Without his helmet she could see the tension in his eyes. “Is Grogu with your kid?”

“I don’t-” she looked around. “Ben?” She called, but there was no answer. Everyone else was headed to their tents for the night.

“Everything okay?” Luke called back. He was standing in the midst of a group of parents and she didn’t want to worry him.

“It’s fine,” she assured him before turning back to the bounty hunter. “I’m going to say ‘yes,’ because they’re probably together. Where did you see him last?”

“Right over there.” He gestured at the edge of the woods. “ Fek. I knew I should have put a tracking device on that little womp rat.”

“Would they have gone into the woods? It’s pretty dark.”

“Grogu has my helmet.” It was a statement he clearly didn’t enjoy. “Do you have a light or something?”

“Yes,” Leia said, keeping a tight lid on her amusement. She could see his frustration and concern. “Don’t worry,” she added as she fetched a portable lantern from her pack. “We’ll find them.”

She had, of course, a natural advantage but she kept that information to herself. “Let’s start here,” she said, letting the Force guide her steps.

They had gone further into the forest that Leia anticipated. They picked their way over rocks and fallen logs, the lantern casting deep shadows behind the trees. “Great,” she muttered. “This could be a long walk.”

“I’m surprised Solo isn’t here to help keep track of his kid.”

“Han did the field trip to the Mon Calamari opera last week.” There was a steep slope to their left, and Leia sensed something in the brush above them. “Wait.” She put her hand out too suddenly and accidentally connected with the bounty hunter’s thigh. She quickly dropped her hand as he stopped, standing close behind her.

There was murmur of voices further up the slope, and the rustling of brush.

“My dad has a girlfriend now,” Ben was saying. “She’s nice. But mom isn’t even trying to date anyone. She says she’s not lonely even though she really is.”

Leia pressed her lips together tightly. Well, that loth cat was out of the bag. She started to call out to her son, but Ben started talking again.

“Is it because his face is all messed up? I don’t think my mom would mind. Uncle Luke says what she really needs is someone who can make her take a vacation.” A pause. “Yeah, he seems like he could.”

Leia turned her head towards Fett, prepared to roll her eyes and make some flippant remark, but the expression on his face caught her off guard. There was something new in his eyes, some kind of understanding that made her immediately look away.

She could stomach a lot of things. Pity from Boba Fett wasn’t one of them. She started to move forward, to climb the slope to her son, but the loose stones and dirt beneath her feet shifted and she stumbled.

Fett’s arm caught her around the waist and kept her from sliding down any further. Her cheeks burned with annoyance as she put her hand on his arm to steady herself. “I’m fine,” she said, carefully polite as she turned back to face him. “Thank you.”

“Your brother’s an idiot,” He said. His voice was low and warm in a way that Leia wasn’t prepared for. Her eyes dropped to his mouth because he was that close and technically speaking, there was nothing to stop her from kissing Boba Fett. If she wanted to.

“Mom?” Ben scrambled through the brush. “What are you doing here?”

Fett quickly dropped his arm from her waist and Leia put her hands on her hips. “We were looking for you and Grogu.”

Fett’s helmet emerged, animated by Grogu’s shuffling steps. “Next time, ask,” the bounty hunter said as he reclaimed it. “Come on. It’s bedtime.”

“It’s cold,” Ben pointed out. “Too cold to be sleeping outside.” He looked up at Leia, all virtuous concern. She thought about telling him that she knew about his little scheme, but then again, why not let him have fun with his friend? And it was cold.

“Our tent is big enough to share,” she told Fett. “You and Grogu are welcome to join us.”

#boba fett/princess leia #rebelbounty #my fic #prompt #parent trap trope #WHAT IS THIS #fluffy fluff #I wrote...a rom com?#and there was only one tent #Anonymous

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griff-us · 3 years ago

Text

Title: Being So Normal Part: One Pairing: Black!Reader/Bucky Barnes Summary: Neither of them are very good at being normal. Good thing the spectrum of normalcy these days is anything but the definition of the word. In other words: two broken people mend together. Warnings: typical canon level violence, mentions of past abuse both physical and emotional, alcohol abuse and mentions of, drug abuse and mentions of.

Chapter Theme: Being So Normal, Peach Pit

Notes: Just a little self-indulgent series that's been sitting in the back of my brain that I have finally decided to work on after kinda scraping the previous one.

Sort of a Neighbors's AU mixed with a Coffee Shop Au. Lots of character introspection for the reader, and Bucky, and some fun and drama along the way. This will no doubt be a slow slow burn.

Hope yall enjoy and feel free to leave any comments or hit me with questions! Oh, mood board slapped together by me! Also, no Beta. Tbh I'm lazy and impatient so excuse any mistakes.

Saturday: 11:30pm

Sam was the one who convinced him to come---or maybe forced would be the better word. Life has been returning to somewhat normal for the two of them; Sam shouldering his mantle as Captain America, and James slowly easing into his role as Sergeant Barnes rather than The Winter Soldier. But, it’s not all easy, at least not for James. Normalcy is not his strong suit, not when the urgency of survival had been drilled into his skull for the past hundred years or so. Sure, he was comfortable, but not necessarily happy. James is lost, and no one can tell that more than Sam.

And that is how he’s found himself in this crowded club with flashing lights and a bass beat that he can feel in the pit of his stomach. It’s not that the environment is too much---it’s just that he feels so...odd out. After all, Jame’s idea of a night out used to be something more akin to a jazz bar and dancing. Not whatever gyrations and wiggling around the kids called dancing was these days.

God, he really is old.

“You gotta loosen up man, you’re killing my vibe.” Sam, as if on cue, shoulders into him. James scowls, making sure to keep a tight grip on his beer---if you could even call it that. The brewery it was from managed to pack so many damn spices and fruit in it that it tasted more like a cocktail than any beer he’s come to like.

“You’ve got a weird vibe then, Sam.” the other man laughs, elbows resting against the bar top behind them while he scopes out the scene. It’s a typical New York club; fashion being the forefront of it all, the entire reason anyone is out right now is to be seen and admired. Among other things.

“That cutie over there keeps tossing you looks, you should go say hi.” James follows Sam’s gaze across the bar. A gaggle of young women crowds around a booth, all of them eyeing them and whispering to one another. He rolls his eyes and takes a long swig of his beer.

“I think you mean they’re looking at you, Sam.” The super soldier turns back toward the bar to push his empty glass to the bartender who only nods his way and produces a refill without another word.

“Eyes up, Sergeant, they’re coming over.”

James doesn’t pay any mind to the coming onslaught; it’s always the same really. Sam is descended on by a group of gals excited to meet the new Captain America and even more enthralled when they realize he’s pretty damn charming. Not that he’s jealous in any way. Annoyed? Sure. See, he just isn’t one for new people---especially the kind that Sam tends to attract sometimes. The airheads, the young ones just waiting to hook up and never talk again. He just can’t vibe with it, can’t grasp it. Maybe he is too old for this modern age of love and romance.

James just turns his attention to the muted TV over the bar, his back facing the chatty group of women behind him while they flock to Sam like vultures starving for a meal. The news flashes between stories from all over; follow-ups on the last of the Flag Smashers, some weird disturbances in a tiny town somewhere far off, and a local story on a stray cat that is just “too cute to not have a home.” He snorts, lips smacking from the twang of his beer.

“Sorry about them.” The tiny voice from his left nearly makes him jump, and James can only blame the blaring music for his lack of attention.

“Huh?” He peers down to see an average height woman; with big brown eyes and skin a deep tan and sunkissed. By all accounts, she is stunning---and looks nearly as out of place in this massive club as he does.

“My friends---” her head jerks towards the group of women still fawning over Sam, who no doubt is loving all of the attention. “I tried to explain to them that you guys are just normal people too," she thinks they're normal? "but the alcohol made them all braver than they normally are.” The woman rolls her eyes but by the soft smile she wears he can tell she means no malice.

“And what about you?” James leans his full weight on the bar top now all the while inching closer to the woman. He can read the confusion on her face. “Are you feeling braver than normal?” she flushes at his clarification, and an easy shrug rolls from the shoulder.

“I’m just the mom friend trying to make sure my friends don’t end up dead, in jail, or worse.” James can’t help but laugh at that.

“A mom friend, huh?” gloved fingers pluck the pint glass from the bar and neither of them breaks eye contact while he swallows nearly half the glass.

“Yeah, kind of how I’ve always been; just an eighty-year-old woman at heart I guess.” James gives her a crooked grin: he could understand that.

“You’re too young to talk like that.” he elbows her gently, suddenly so comfortable with her presence that he can feel himself loosening up a bit.

“Then what’s your excuse?”

Brows cock high, that twisted little grin never once wavering from his face. He likes her---the idle and quiet wit, the way she matches his quips with equal stride.

“What’s your---” but before he can finish the group of girls are flagging her down, yanking her arm in one direction while they all gossip about how someone managed to snag Captain America’s number. James watches while she shoots him an apologetic smile while she is all but dragged back to their booth across the dance floor. Before he knows it, her face is lost in a sea of people.

“You would pick up the prettiest one.” Sam’s voice yanks James from his thoughts, and he looks up with narrowed eyes. “Don’t think I didn’t see that little flirt session. You get her number?”

“I’m going home.” James slaps a crisp bill on the bar top and Sam laughs, all loud and boisterous.

“You didn’t even get her name, did you, man?”

“Good night, Sam!” with hands shoved deep in his pockets, James turns heels and heads home.

Sunday: 8:am

The mornings were his favorite time to jog. Consider it a coping mechanism---not that he necessarily needed to go for mile-long runs or work out, what with the serum, but it was the only time his mind was truly quiet. So, James kept to a strict schedule of an hour or so run every morning followed up by a tall dark roast. Only today, he is late by nearly an hour to get to his usual coffee spot; which wouldn’t be terrible but James lives for routines. Without one, his entire day is skewed.

It’s eight in the morning when he strolls into the coffee shop, a tiny little place sat precariously on the corner of two streets only a couple blocks from his apartment. Clad in joggers and a simple black t-shirt, he strides up to the counter; eyes glued to the menu board for any new sweets that may catch his eye.

“Well hi again.” brows grow taught at their center---he knows that voice. James looks down to see the same woman from the night before. Black hair is piled high on her head and rather than the slim little dress from the night before she sports simple leggings and a graphic shirt of which the reference he is utterly lost on.

“Oh. Hi...uh....” blue eyes look for a name tag, and he finds none. Damn it.

“Y/N” she smiles wide at him, much like she had in the club only this time, with better lighting, he can make out the dimples that crease each of her cheeks.

“Y/N.” he repeats her name back slowly. “Uh, nice to meet you, or see you again. I guess.” he points to himself, “I’m Bucky.” said so lamely, so simply, he really can’t blame her for laughing at him.

“I know. What can I get for you, James?”

James.

That throws him; tosses him so off-kilter the man can hardly remember his order. Sure a couple people call him James, well really only his mother and his therapist when he’s in deep shit but…. To hear a name nearly forgotten to himself, and from her? Well, it turns his brain to static.

“Just a large black coffee and one of those brownies please.” She nods and starts to prep his order, all the while he stands there like an idiot with a ten-dollar bill in his hand and his heart in his throat. Finally, he finds a safe landing back on earth.

“How was the rest of your night with your friends?” Y/N groans while she pours him a fresh cup of coffee.

“Catty. I finally got the last one home around three in the morning. Got home just in time for a nap before I came in here.”

“That sounds---awful.” James trades her the coffee for the ten, and watches while she works the register.

“Wasn’t so bad. I don’t sleep much these days anyway.” Y/N offers the change back to James but only nods his head toward the tip jar.

“Sounds like you earned it. Did you just start working here?" he's never seen her working here before, and per his routine, James is here around this time at least five times a week.

"Covering for a friend, I usually work the closing shift if I'm not teaching." Teaching? James would assume she'd be on the younger side to teach.

"I'll have to come more often around that time then." he watches while round cheeks twitch, and flush.

“Deal. I’ll uh...see you around, James?”

“Y-yeah. See you around, Y/N”

#james bucky barnes #james barnes #reader insert #bucky/reader #bucky/you #james bucky barnes/reader #james bucky barnes/you #mcu fic #mcu reader insert #reblogs more than welcome #actually encouraged #thank

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fanmoose12 · 4 years ago

Text

Partners

Characters: Petra Ral, Levi, Hanji Zoe x Levi Genre: Action / Mystery / Romance Rating: T

Detective!au

Summary: when Petra was promoted to a detective and partnered up with legendary Levi Ackerman, she felt like the happiest person in the world.

But, as she soon found out, detective Ackerman she used to admire so much was actually a far cry from the ideal policeman Petra thought he was. He was rude, harsh and easily annoyed. And, in addition, he still hadn’t moved on from the death of his previous partner - detective Hange Zoe.

Chapter 7/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Сhapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

It was a recurring dream of hers.

She was sitting behind the desk in a room she couldn’t recognize. There were three other desks there, a big shelf, filled with documents and a black, leather coach. On a desk in front of her, there was a computer, a dozen of folders, pens and used coffee cups scattered around, and on the edge stood a plate. For some reason, Hange was sure that her name was written on it. There was another plate, which was propped up on a desk that was set beside hers. Hange took it in her hands numerous times, trying to see what name was written there. The letters were always too blurry for her to understand.

Evidently, she was inside an office of some sort. The place seemed familiar, extremely so. Hange knew that there was a small crack in the window behind her desk, she knew that her chair creaked whenever she shifted her sitting position, she knew that the best tea was kept on a lower shelf.

And despite all the evidence that she knew this place, she couldn’t remember if she had ever been here. Or who she shared this office with.

In her hands she held a photo album and her fingers slowly traced one picture after another. Each page showed different groups of people – there were a lot of them, but there were only two men, who appeared at each photo. One was tall and blonde, the other one – short and dark-haired. Hange was hugging them in each picture, her face shining with happiness.

The men, however, had no faces.

Out of the dozen people who stood next to Hange on these photos, no one had a face. They were just silhouettes, blurry and hazy.

Same as Hange’s memory of them.

She knew they were important, knew that she loved them, dearly so, but she couldn’t remember them. She didn’t know who they were, she forgot their names and faces, couldn’t recall how their voices sounded like or how they took their coffee. Her mind was like a book that once was filled with memories. But now all the pages were torn out, leaving just the title and the beginnings of first chapter.

It pissed Hange off, it left her frustrated and confused. Who were these people? Were they colleagues? Friends? Family? If they were so close to her, where were they now? Why weren’t they still by her side? Had they left her? Why was she left behind?

These questions tormented Hange. Every time she woke up after that dream, she couldn’t help but ponder upon it, desperately searching for an answer. That’s why she hated this dream so much, it wasn’t as bad as the others ones - the ones about fire and child’s screams and— no, these were the worst, always making Hange wake up in the middle of the night with a hoarse scream on her lips. Dreams about her forgotten life weren’t much better, though. They made her feel so uneasy because—

Because she missed them. She didn’t know these people, had no clear memory of them, but still her heart ached to see them. There was a longing inside her so severe she felt like there was a huge hole in her chest. She had so many feelings, so much love to give—

But there was no one she could share that love with.

Usually, after a dream like that, Hange was reluctant to leave her bed. She could spend literal hours, chewing on her thumb and trying to regain what was lost. Sometimes she could almost see it, the beginning of a memory, a flash of something familiar, but it always ended there, never reaching anything conclusive. Didn’t stop her from trying, though.

This morning, however, was vastly different. This morning, the time for pondering was cut off abruptly, when someone had woken Hange up by roughly kicking the leg of her bed.

She woke up immediately. For a second she was confused, and then— then she got angry. She opened her eyes and put on her glasses, preparing the deadliest of glares for whoever had deigned to disturb her sleep.

Of course. It was stupid Floch. Hange threw a pillow at him, aiming right at his idiotic face. It hit him right in the center of his ugly forehead. If she wasn’t so pissed off, Hange would have laughed at his perplexed expression.

“The fuck are you doing here?” she asked furiously. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not allowed inside my apartment?”

Well, calling the place, where Hange lived, an apartment was quite possibly a huge exaggeration. Her home consisted of one room, a bathroom and a balcony so small she alone could hardly fit there. Zeke claimed that she started living there years before the accident that caused her amnesia had occurred. But, as with everything Zeke had told her, Hange found it hard to believe him – the apartment, when she returned from the hospital, was barren and lifeless. She couldn’t quite imagine living in such pristine place, especially considering the amount of clutter she had accumulated just after a week of living there.

But why would Zeke lie to her? She asked herself that exact question more times than she could count.

“Zeke wants to see you,” Floch told her, bringing Hange back to present.

“Cool,” she stood up and pushed past Floch, heading to the part of her apartment she proudly called the kitchen. In truth, it was just a tiny corner of her room, where a refrigerator and narrow countertop stood.

Yawning, she started the coffee machine and opened the small cabinet, searching for a clean mug. She needed to do the dishes, Hange noted to herself.

“Your place is like a junkyard, four-eyes. You’re living in a dumpster like a fucking raccoon.”

Hange softly chuckled. As with her strange dreams, it wasn’t the first time she had heard this voice. It often appeared inside her head, commenting on situations she had found herself in. Sometimes it gave her valid advice too. She didn’t know if this voice was a sign of her declining mental health, something that should definitely alarm her, or just a repressed memory of sorts. She tried not to think about it too hard. That voice brought her some comfort, and she was always happy to hear it. She couldn’t remember the name of its owner, of course, and since it was sarcastic and often quite rude, she nicknamed it simply ‘the grumpy one’.

“What are you laughing at?” Floch seethed, following after Hange. “And didn’t you hear me? Zeke wants to see you. What the fuck are you doing?”

“Making coffee,” Hange shrugged. “I’d offer a cup to you too, but, unfortunately, I have no poison to go with it. Don’t take it personally,” she smiled, baring her teeth.

“It’s urgent,” Floch pressed, glaring at her.

Poor thing, Hange thought, as she was filling her mug with steaming coffee, he was probably thinking that he looked fearsome. In truth, Floch reminded Hange of an angry cat, who could do nothing, but hiss.

“If that was actually urgent,” Hange murmured, taking the first sip from the mug. “He wouldn’t have sent you.”

For a moment, Floch was silent. Hange’s smile grew bigger, as she waited for him to catch on. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in shed after all.

“What are you implying?” he asked slowly. He clutched his hands into fists, his chest moved up and down, as he struggled to keep his breathing under control. Hange barely kept herself from laughing. It would have ruined the effect.

“I’m implying, my dear Floch,” she lifted a hand, reaching out to his cheek to pat it with a condescending smile. Floch recoiled from her in disgust. “That you’re not the man Zeke trusts the most. I don’t think he trusts you at all,” she added with an infuriating smirk.

Floch growled, taking a step closer to her.

Hange watched him with giddy trepidation. Was he going to punch her? God, she wanted him to punch her so badly. It’d give her an excuse to punch him back.

“Try to be more civil, Hange, I know that he’s a jerk, but you both are a part of one team.”

That was another one of her voices. This Hange named ‘the serious one’. It was always spoiling all of the fun, but she couldn’t deny it – nine times out of ten, that voice was right in denying Hange her amusement. It was the closest thing she had to an impulse control.

This time, she decided to listen to it too, even though she wanted to have fun so, so much.

“I need to go and take a shower,” she announced, putting her mug with unfinished coffee back on the counter. “And if you, Floch, do not wish to join, then get the fuck out of my apartment.”

“Ugh,” Floch cringed at her suggestion. “Not in a million years. But hurry up. You don’t want to anger Zeke, do you?” curving his lips into a smug grin of his own, he gestured to Hange’s face. “I’m sure you remember what happens when you misbehave.”

The house, engulfed in a bright fire, a child, begging for help, the black smoke and hot flames, the weight of a small body in her arms, the sharp edge of a knife that punished her for saving an innocent life, the pain in her left eye—

Hange shook her head, pushing these memories to the back of her mind. It was enough that they haunted her at nights, she wouldn’t let them torment her during daytime as well.

“Just go already,” Hange sighed, walking past him. “Tell Zeke I’ll come to see him soon.”

***

Hange’s ‘soon’ came almost an hour later. Whatever Zeke needed from her, it definitely wasn’t urgent. If it was, he’d sent anyone else, but Floch. On bad days, that guy couldn’t be trusted even with tying his own shoelaces.

She closed the door to her apartment and walked up the stairs to get to the third floor. The previous headquarters of their criminal organization was blown up - damaged weaponry was to blame, or so Zeke said. And ever since, they’ve been hiding in one of the abandoned buildings at the outskirts of a city. The first floor was designed to hold the higher ranked members of a gang, the second was for storage, and the third floor was what Zeke called his briefing room.

The whole floor was used for that exact purpose, in a center there was a long oak table and all around it were plastic, uncomfortable chairs. On the wall behind, Zeke put up the writing boards, although Hange had never seen someone actually use them. They probably were there to simply create an entourage and not serve as something truly useful. Even man as efficient and cruel as Zeke wasn’t immune to bursts of theatrics, it seemed.

When Hange entered the briefing room, there was no one but Zeke and Pieck inside. Hange grinned instantly, waving to Pieck with a clear glee, reflecting in her glasses.

Hange liked Pieck. A lot. Pieck was overly sarcastic and in all the time they knew each other, Hange honestly didn’t remember if they had at least one friendly exchange, but Pieck was funny. And trustworthy too. When Zeke had punished her for saving a child of his enemy, Pieck was the one, who helped her treat the wound.

However, if there was no one there, but Pieck, it meant that Floch was right. Zeke wanted to tell her something important. Something he wanted to keep a secret.

“And here you are!” he spread his arms in welcoming gesture. “We’ve been waiting for you for quite a while.”

“Then let’s get it over with quick,” Hange trudged up to one of the chairs and plopped down on it heavily.

“Your desire is my command,” Zeke put on a pleasant and obviously fake smile. Hange didn’t smile back.

“There is someone I need you to meet with,” Zeke began, lighting up a cigarette. Hange cringed in disgust, she hated cigarette smoke. And Zeke knew it.

“Who is it?”

“A past associate of mine. We’ve… drifted apart after the accident. I need you to go and see if we can rekindle our love.”

“And…” Hange tilted her head, observing Zeke carefully. “Why does it have to be me?”

Zeke shrugged. “You’re smart, Hange. And, unfortunately, the same can’t be said about all of my employees.”

“You’re the only one I can trust with this, Hange. I know you can do it.”

Hange had to blink a few times, because this time… it wasn’t just a voice. No, she could also see piercing blue eyes and strong jaw. She could see them as clearly as she saw Zeke and Pieck in front of her. Zeke’s eyes were blue too, but nothing like that vivid, bright color Hange had just seen. What was it? A memory? A vision? Was she truly losing her mind?

“…Oi, you weirdo, hey— goddamn it, Hange, do you hear us?”

She instantly snapped back to reality.

“Yes?” her lips curved into a lazy smile, as she turned to face Pieck. “Do you need something, dear Pieck?”

Pieck didn’t roll her eyes or even scoff. Instead, she continued to carefully survey Hange, chewing on her lip worriedly.

“What the fuck was that?” she asked after a moment, her eyes still following Hange’s every move. “It looked like you just blacked out or something. Were my concerns about your sanity actually correct?”

Good question, Hange mused internally.

Externally, she waved Pieck off, putting her arms behind her head and sitting back in a chair. She relaxed in her seat and willed all of her troubling thoughts away.

“Everything’s awesome, dear Pieck. So,” she looked back at Zeke. “Who do I have to meet?”

“His name is Djel Sannes,” Zeke answered, looking at Hange just as intently as Pieck did moments ago. “He’ll be waiting for you this evening in an underground parking lot of the local police department.”

“Police department?!” Hange frowned, taken aback. “Are you insane?”

“What?” Zeke smiled innocently at her. “Is there going to be a problem?”

“Duh,” Hange threw her hands in the air. “It’s a police department, Zeke!”

“Yeah,” he took a drag of his cigarette and then slowly released a white, fat ring of smoke. “And what of it?”

“Have you forgotten,” Hange gritted through teeth. “That we’re members of a fucking gang?”

“We’re a part of a criminal organization,” Zeke corrected, his face contorting in disgust. Of course, how Hange could forget. Calling themselves a gang was too unsophisticated for his snobby ass. “And don’t you worry,” Zeke sent her another smile. “That’s why you’re meeting in a parking lot. No one will know that you’ve even been there. Besides, you’re not going alone.”

Hange lightened up. “Pieck is coming with me?”

“No,” Zeke’s tapped his fingers on a table’s surface, and Hange had a sinking feeling that told her she would really hate his next words. “Floch is going to go with you.”

“Fuck, no,” Hange answered immediately. “I won’t go with that jerk, no fucking way.”

“Don’t be like that, Floch can be annoying, I know, but there is a lot he can learn from you.”

God, just the thought of spending time with that idiot made her skin crawl.

“He’ll be a good boy, I promise,” Zeke added sweetly.

Hange sighed, getting up to her feet. “If he so much as opens his mouth at inappropriate time, I’ll punch him so hard he forgets his name.”

“That’s a deal,” Zeke nodded. “And Hange?” he called when she was almost at the door. “Do you think you can handle going to the police department?”

Hange narrowed her eyes. “If no one will notice us, then what’s the problem?”

“You sure?” he asked again, giving her a weird look. Hange stared back, not sure what the fuck was going on. Was it some kind of a test? If so, then what was its purpose?

“Of course,” she mumbled and left the room.

She wasn’t in a mood for Zeke’s mind games today. She had Floch to deal with, and he already was annoying enough to cause her a headache.

***

“I want to make something clear,” Hange fixed Floch with a hard look. “In this car, the driver always chooses the music. Blink if you understand.”

Floch glared back, but as he saw that this wasn’t working on Hange, he sighed and nodded. “I understand.”

“Great!” Hange smiled and clasped his shoulder so hard, Floch cringed. “Then let’s go! An exciting trip is ahead of us!” she started the car and turned on the music. The first notes of “Let it go” began to play and Floch groaned. Hange’s smile widened.

“Your music taste is as shit as ever,” the grumpy one in her head said. “At least it’s not me who is suffering this time.”

***

"You have to turn left," Floch fumed exasperatingly.

"Shut up,” Hange snapped, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

"The GPS says we have to turn left," Floch lifted his hand, trying to reach out to Hange and take the wheel under his control. She harshly slapped his hand away.

"The GPS is wrong then," Hange blew a stray hair away from her face. "My route is shorter."

"And how do you know that?" Floch demanded.

"I just do," she sighed, trying very hard not to focus on that question. She just did know that this route was shorter. Just like she knew that there was a food court nearby that sold delicious hotdogs. And that on weekdays, the traffic was terrible, especially in the afternoon. She just— she just knew. It was S a mystery, same as her confusing dreams and weird voices inside her head.

One crossroad later, their car stopped in front of the precinct's parking lot.

"There," Hange announced proudly. "We arrived."

Floch frowned. "The ETA said we would be driving for another five minutes."

"The shorter route," Hange reminded him with a grin. "Now go!" she gave Floch a rough shove, pushing him out of the car.

"What the fuck?" he complained. "I was supposed to go with you!"

"And you will," Hange explained with a roll of her eyes. "But I need you to check if the parking lot is really empty. We can't be seen, remember?"

"Riight," Floch reluctantly agreed. "So I just have to go in there? Make sure that it’s deserted?"

"I take my words back, Floch," Hange looked at him impressively, pressing a hand to her chest. "You're not a complete idiot after all."

"Fuck you," he growled.

"Love you too!" Hange waved her hand, watching Floch get out of the car with a smile on her face.

As soon as he closed the door, Hange exhaled and looked up at the sky. The grey, heavy clouds were gathering up above. The streets became darker and the city around her looked ominous, as though signaling every citizen about the upcoming disaster. Hange instantly admonished herself, she was being ridiculous. The cloudy weather could mean only one thing - that it was going to rain. And a little rain hardly ever hurt anyone.

"Makes everything look so messy, though."

Hange hummed, drumming her fingers on a steering wheel. She was a mess. She wondered if the grumpy one would like her.

***

"The coast is clear," Floch announced once he was back inside the car.

"Any sign of our guy?" Hange asked, starting the car.

"Not yet," Floch shook his head.

"Someone is not a fan of punctuality," she tsked in mock disappointment. "Luckily, we're not in a hurry."

Hange drove the car inside the parking lot. Just as Floch had said, it was blessedly empty. She stopped near the center, so they would have a better vantage point. Then Hange turned off the engine and opened the door, walking out and stretching her limbs.

Now all they had to do was wait.

"Do you know what he looks like?" Floch stood next to Hange.

"I do. Zeke showed me a photo."

The man was probably working closely with them before. Hange felt like she knew him. But she wasn’t sure that sending her to meet with the man was a good idea. Sannes’s photo evoked a strong a sense of annoyance inside her. Hange wondered what kind of relationship they used to have before.

It wasn't long before she got her chance to find out. After several minutes of waiting, Sannes walked onto the parking lot. He wasn't alone, though. No, next to him was a short, dark-haired guy. There was... something about him. Even though, his back was facing her, Hange couldn't look away. Her breath quickened and she watched him, unblinkingly, waiting for the man to show his face.

And then he did.

He turned around, for just a second, but it was enough for Hange to catch a glimpse of his face. Her knees almost gave up under her, as a short gasp escaped her lips.

It was— it was Levi.

Hange's head began to spin as memories from her old life came rushing back to her. She staggered backwards, falling to her knees, as all of it nearly overwhelmed her. It felt like her skull was going to combust from all the information. She remembered now, remembered almost everything.

Her days at the academy, meeting Levi and Erwin and then befriending them both, her first case and hundreds that followed after it, the sleepless nights, spent in the precinct with Levi by her side, the morning coffees she shared with Erwin, the jokes she told to Moblit and his team during lunches, the bar where they went to drink at after work. She remembered Erwin’s smile and Levi’s scowl, remembered the soapy smell of his hair and the warmth of his hand on her shoulder. Remembered how tightly he pressed herself against his side whenever she had too much to drink at the bar. Remembered the concern that appeared inside his usually emotionless eyes whenever she got hurt or wounded. There was so much she was missing, there was so much that was taken from her.

Hange seethed as she thought of what Zeke had done to her and everyone she cared about. Before she succumbed to the anger completely, though, rough hands grabbed her shoulders, grounding her in reality. She looked up, blinking a few times.

Floch was crouched in front of her.

"What the fuck?" he looked at her with a mix of annoyance and panic. "Have you finally lost it?"

Having your life turn upside will do that to you, Hange mentally scoffed.

But now she needed to focus. She couldn’t let Floch know that her memories came back.

So she put her feelings to the back of her mind, shutting them off, and forced a smile. "No need to worry," she patted Floch’s shoulder and rose to her feet. "Just feeling a little bit dizzy. Shouldn’t have skipped the breakfast."

Floch narrowed his eyes in suspicion, watching Hange for another second. But then he rolled his eyes and stood up too. Good, he seemed to have bought her lie. "You're such a freak."

"I'm simply unique," Hange grinned. "Now, hurry up and get to work."

"Huh?"

"Our guy, Floch," she pointed behind herself. "He's leaving. Go and talk to him."

"Didn't Zeke tell you to do that?"

"He did, but things changed. See that shorty next to him?" the nickname rolled easily off her tongue. How could she forget her favorite clean freak, Hange wondered absentmindedly. She must have hit her head pretty badly. Levi always said she was too scatterbrained for her own good. "We need to distract him. I'll do that and you talk with our target. Alright?"

"Alright," Floch agreed.

As soon as Floch left, Hange sighed in relief. One less thing to worry about. For a second, she watched as Floch maneuvered between the cars in the shadows. Then she turned back to Levi. He was already finished with tearing Sannes a new one, and was now walking right in Hange’s direction. He was probably heading to his car, she tried to calm herself. She was well hidden in a shadow and she stood behind a car. He wouldn’t be able to see her. There was nothing to panic about. Still, Hange’s heart was beating so loudly, she was sure Levi could hear it too.

She wanted to go to him. Every part of her screamed with need to see Levi. To look at his scowling face, to hear his raspy voice. It took all of Hange’s willpower to tear her gaze away from him. She couldn’t do it, not right now. She was a mess, a clatter of old memories and dozen contrasting emotions. She needed to keep it together, to sort it all out.

Yes, that was what she was going to do. Fuck Floch and Sannes, she couldn’t deal with them right now. What she needed was to clear her head. With that in mind, Hange decided to get back inside the car. She looked back for a second, checking on Floch. He was already by Sannes’s side, leading him out of the parking lot. Then she glanced at Levi. He was standing on the other side of a parking lot, a distance away from Hange. He was next to his car, and Hange couldn’t keep a smile off her face, as she realized that he was wiping off a stain from his rear window. God, what a clean freak, she thought, feeling her chest fill with affection.

It wasn’t the time to stare or reminisce, though. She needed to move, to get out of here before her resolve crumbles. Hange took a step in the direction of her car. She did it slowly, not taking her eye off Levi even for a second. He was still fumbling with a stain, so she took another step. She was almost close enough to open the door. Hange lifted her leg and then—

And then her shoe squeaked.

Levi snapped his head around instantly, looking up in alarm. Hange put a hand over her mouth and sank to her knees. She froze in that position, watching Levi with wide, panicked eye.

“Who is there?” he asked, narrowing his eyes and taking a step closer. A car separated them, and Hange prayed that Levi wouldn’t check behind it.

He stood there for what felt like hours. Sweat began to drip down Hange’s forehead, as she tried to predict Levi’s next move. She heard him take another step and then put his hand on a hood of a car.

“Is anyone here?” Levi repeated his question.

Hange closed her eye, pressing hands tighter to her lips. If she so much as peeps right now, she was doomed.

Levi glanced between the cars and then sighed, turning around.

“I really need to sleep,” he muttered, raising a hand to ruffle his hair. He looked around the parking lot once again, and then started heading back to his car.

Hange waited for him to get inside, and only then allowed herself to relax.

“Fuck,” she breathed out, watching as Levi drove away. As soon as he left, Hange jumped up and hurried to her own car. She hopped in and started the engine, eager to leave this place behind as quickly as possible.

There was a lot she needed to think about.

***

Someone was looking after it.

There were fresh flowers – peonies, her favorite. All weeds had been taken out.

On a bright, white stone there was an epitaph engraved.

A brilliant mind. The kindest of hearts. A loyal, dear friend. Without your shining presence, the world had lost some of its light. Staring down at her own grave was... a weird experience. Hange wasn't yet sure how she felt about it.

Normal people would probably be weirded out by this. Some would start contemplating their own mortality and the impact they leave on the world. Most would be afraid to even look at it. Hange felt nothing but burning, seething rage.

Zeke would pay for this. No matter what it takes, be it her own life, but Hange would bring him to justice. She would do anything to ruin his life. Just as he had ruined hers.

She didn't know for how long she was standing there motionlessly, lost to her swirling thoughts. The rain had started - a cold, heavy downpour - but Hange paid no mind to it. She was so far gone she didn't even hear the approaching footsteps. Or a quiet, shocked gasp.

She felt a trembling hand on her elbow, though. She whirled around and saw those piercing blue eyes.

Tears started to well up in her own eye, as she stared up at him.

"Hange?" Erwin whispered softly, quietly as though he was afraid that his loud voice would shutter the feeble illusion. That Hange would disappear like smoke in the wind. "Is that really you?"

"I guess?" she chuckled. The tears were now freely streaming down her face.

"Hange, oh god," Erwin threw away his umbrella and quickly shortened the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her.

Hange buried her face into his jacket, sobbing loudly.

"I missed you, Erwin. T-there is so much I need to tell you."

"And I'll gladly listen to you," Hange could hear a smile in his voice, and she felt her own lips curve upwards too. "But as for now," Erwin leaned in and gently kissed the crown of her head. "Welcome back, Hange."

#*gestures to this mess of a chapter* do you think a depressed person could make this?#anyways! critisism is very appreciated lmao #levihan #levihan fanfiction #levi x hange #hange zoe #levi ackerman #floch forster #zeke yeager #rivahan #snk fanfiction #snk levi

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elfboyeros · 3 years ago

Text

It Feels Oddly Domestic

Just a far warning there are going to be implied suicidal thoughts through the some of these little stories. I apologize if that tiggers or offended anyone I will put warnings at the beginnings of my stories if that is the cause!

Read the First Part

⚠️ Implied suicidal thoughts⚠️

“Mx. Paris there are other avenues that we could take.”

“Like what?”

“Well, the obvious one is to sue Callisto Merripen A.K.A Earthly Chaos,”

“Oh, come on you wouldn’t do that would you Cordelia?!”

“I don’t know!”

It seemed so outlandish, the idea of pro-hero suing another pro-hero. Especially when it appeared to be a horrible accident. Although the legal avenue for Cordelia to sue Callisto are more then sound.

“GAH, I don’t know what to do,” Cordelia huffed while in the shower, “I mean it does and doesn’t seem like a bad idea at the same.”

They turned off the shower tap, wrapping themselves in a towel and stepping out of the shower, “don’t fall again dumbass,” they muttered to themselves, “the last thing you need to do is all Aizawa or Hawks again to help you off the bathroom floor.”

They continue to think over the possible of suing the pro-hero that left them dying in the street, becoming more frustrated as the paced in their apartment, in an extra-large hoodie and boy shorts.

“Meow.”

Cordelia turned to their bed seeing the fluffy gray cat sprawled out within a pile of blankets, “good day, Aphrodite,” they said with a smile going to pet the animal, “maybe I should talk to someone…”

“Meow.”

“Thanks Aphrodite.”

Hawks was the first person they thought of talking to. He now the situation in and out he would give them advice.

Hey, I need someone to talk

Cordelia didn’t expect him to respond right away so they went to clean the bathroom to keep their mind of the choices they had to make. Although an hour and a half later they check their phone again.

[read] 4:23 p.m.

They frowned, knowing he was working. Although they wanted to be selfish this once. The possibly of making the wrong decision was eating them alive. They looked at the message list, Aizawa was under Hawks, the pro-hero 10 years their senior be the last person they texted. He had wished them luck in the meeting were the topic of suing Callisto came up.

“I can’t, he’s busy, it’s a weekday.”

Although they wanted to be selfish just this once.

Shota, do you got time to talk

It took less than a minute to get a response:

Is something wrong

Not extremely serious, but some stuff happened at the meeting today and I need advice.

If you’re busy its okay!

Do you want to do it over the phone, or in person

The fact that he had picked on how they like to discuss serious topics made them feel warm inside.

I would like to do it in person but this isn’t really about what I want

It actually is

Give me time to get there

🙏I’m in your debt

Your not, just provide me dinner

What would you like

It doesn’t matter if it’s food

Yaki Udon?

👍

Cordelia smiled, heading to the kitchen to begin cooking while Aphrodite played with toy in the background. It felt almost domestic, making Aizawa dinner as he was returning from the school. He’s coming home if you will.

“Cupid, stop being an idiot,” they sighed, blushing, “he’s coming over to talk to you because you asked, this isn’t his home.”

Did Codelia Paris have feelings for Shota Aizawa, yes, Could it be because he was being he was being kind, possibly. Although the B.M.I Hero Fat Gum was kind to the young adult since the day they met, and they had no feelings for the 29-year-old doughboy. No, they had feelings for the 30-year-old tired teacher. But Aizawa wouldn’t have feelings for them, he was 10 years their senior and it’s not like he saw them as nothing, but a young pro and a possible friend.

“And know I’m thinking about Hawks,” Cordelia huffed.

The winged hero, that birdbitch, also had a place in Cordelia’s heart and out of the two men that Cordelia wanted to be with Hawks seemed more realistic, although that doesn’t get rid of the feelings for Aizawa.

A knock at their front door, made the jump, pulling them out of their thoughts, “it’s open!”

The door behind them opened, heavy and tired footsteps entering their apartment, “you shouldn’t leave your door unlock and answer it like that,” Aizawa stated, softly as he removed his shoes.

Aphrodite had waddled her way for to the cat lover, enjoying him picking her up and holding her like a baby, “I knew it was you,” Cordelia replied, back turn toward him.

“And what if I was a murderer, or something, huh,” Aizawa posed.

Cordelia chuckled, turning around and leaning against the stove, “you think I can cheat death a second time?”

Aizawa looked at them for a second, tired, upset, and depressed, but still trying to make jokes. Just like in the hospital a month and a half ago, “don’t talk like that.”

“You brought up, buddy,” they retorted as the would out bowels and utensils.

Dinner was state in front of them at the little circular table in the corner of Cordelia’s kitchen area. The element of sitting across from each other and eating dinner felt so domestic.

“So, what’s wrong,” Aizawa asked.

Cordelia sighed, “My lawyer said I could sue Callisto.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, granted no in the room looked happy with that opinion.”

“You say that as if you have other opinions.”

“I kinda do,” they sighed again, “I could ask for a public apology, which means the actual story gets out and a ruin a young man’s career. He could give me a small about of money, under the table as an apology. Or do nothing!”

“Jesus.”

“I was told that if I sue, meaning I could get both the money and the apology, but the Hero Commission pulled me aside after and said that was a horrible idea, and would have the wrong outcome for everyone,” Cordelia explained, “but I don’t see how that possible.”

“So, they don’t want you to do anything,” Aizawa remarked as a question.

“Basically, but right now my reputation is in shambles give the cover up job that they did,” Aizawa was silence for a moment, “what would you do Shota?”

“If it were me… I would do nothing,” he replied, “it seems like more trouble than it’s worth, but I’m not you.”

“I just want the people to know what really happened! I don’t care about the money,” Cordelia replied, getting up to place their bowl in the sink, “so I guess I’ll just ask for the public apology, I just don’t know what the right thing would be.”

“I can’t make the decision for me, Cordelia,” Aizawa remarked placing his bowl in the sink beside theirs.

“I know, I’m not asking you to make the decision,” Cordelia sighed, back leaning against the sink with their arms folded against their chest, “I just… I don’t… gah! It shouldn’t be this difficult to make this decision! And of course, I’m the one making it so difficult!”

“You are making it a bit difficult,” Aizawa chuckled, leaning against the arm of the couch.

“I guess I’m just worry about what people are going to think,” Cordelia huffed, “my brain is still stuck in my freshman of high school phase, I guess.”

“and I’m assuming that bad.”

Cordelia nodded, “a bit,” they muttered, “I was a people pleaser and worried about what everyone thought of me, stuff like that.”

“Sound horrible,” Aizawa joked.

“yeah,” they chuckled, moving to sit on the couch.

Aizawa soon followed, Cordelia scrunched up on one couch cushion at one end and the Eraser hero at the other end, “why did you want to please everyone,” he asked.

“I wanted people to like me,” they replied simply, “I wasn’t the rocking bombshell that I am now. I was a nerdy, chubby, kid in America with shitty parents. I was bully through out my American education career. When I got tired of it all, I made it so people would at least tolerate me so I wouldn’t be so alone.”

“So, what happened when you got to U.A.?”

“People were nicer. I found actual friends. Getting to meet Fat Gum and get chances to have a social life where I could be myself, helped me a lot” they explained, “and hey, I even lost a bit of weight.”

Aizawa rolled his eyes at the comment of their weight, which Cordelia didn’t notice, “I feel like since the accident I'm falling backwards,” they added, “as if I'm trying to keep those around me from leaving because “I’ve done something wrong." I know it's not true, but that want a part of my brain believes."

Aizawa was silence listening to them, which was him being polite although, of course, Cordelia’s brain take that way, “I’m sorry for rambling.”

“It’s alright,” he replied, looking at them scrunched up on their own couch, “you can relax, Cordelia.”

“Then my feet would be in your lap.”

“Okay?”

“That’s your personal space,” they replied.

“and I’m in your home,” he added.

“I’m not putting my feet in your lap.”

“Too bad,” he huffed, pull at their feet, laying out their legs landing their feet in his lap.

It feels unbelievably domestic!

“Whatever… so tell me about yourself, Mr. Aizawa!”

He rolls his eyes, telling Cordelia very little about his younger ages, only because he didn’t feel like reliving his trauma at the moment. He spoke a lot about his time as a teacher, very little on his actual self.

“Come on, Shota, you gotta give me facts about yourself,” Cordelia chuckled.

“I mean there isn’t much,” Aizawa replied.

“Come on,” they groaned, “there’s no secret talent, or anything like that?!”

“Well... I can tap dance,” he answered.

“WHAT REALLY!”

Cordelia shot up, “dear god you are tell the truth,” they laughed, “THAT’S AMAZING,” they yelled falling back on the couch laughing.

Outside a center winged-hero was flying through the night sky, soaring to a center apartment. It’s not that he was ignoring Cordelia’s text, he was busy. Although the fact that he didn’t get a respond from them had him a bit worried.

“Come on, songbird, be okay,” he muttered.

Hawks landed on their balcony wall; he could see the light were on before he landed. Once he looked inside gave him the answer on why they didn’t respond to his text messages. They were talking to 1-A teacher.

“Shota Aizawa,” Hawks muttered, “you keep stealing my thunder.”

Hawks looked down at his phone, opened on his messages with Cordelia.

Whatcha need Cupid

Songbird?

I’m sorry I was busy

I’m Flying by if you still need to talk

Cordelia please answer me!

[Delivered] 7:05 p.m.

Cordelia to him was a friend and had been a friend since they had started being a pro. He had someone to flirt with that would flirt back, someone to joke with, someone to feel at peace with when near them. Although since the accident he knew that Cordelia wasn’t doing great, and the red winged hero was trying his hardest to be support, but granted he was never good at that.

Hawks’ eyes fell to the cat sitting, inside, in front of the siding door, giving her a little wave before leaving, “have fun songbird.”

“MEOW!”

Aizawa and Cordelia looked over at Aphrodite, who sat in front of the balcony, “You want out stupid,” Cordelia asked, getting off the couch.

“Don’t call her stupid,” Aizawa chuckled, watching the beaten hero walked to the door.

“Maybe she’d be called smart if she figured out how to open the door,” they joked, petting the top of Aphrodite’s head, before siding the door open and swiftly shutting it and turning back seeing Aizawa off the couch, “leaving?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, have a stay trip back to the school,” Cordelia replied, “and thank you for doing this, I’ll make it up somehow.”

“You don’t have to make anything up,” he replied.

“Maybe I could help you grade or train the kids,” Cordelia proposed.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Aizawa chuckled.

Cordelia smiled somberly, the tried teacher could tell something was wrong. Not like if he left something would happen, but just that they didn’t want him to leave, they didn’t want to be alone. He could tell by the smile and the look in their eyes.

“Please text me or call me if you need anything,” he added softly, “I’ll be here as soon as I can.”

“I know,” Cordelia remarked, “now go, Eri probably want you to read her a bedtime story.”

That confirmed from him, that they didn’t want him to leave, and that broke his heart.

“Goodnight, Cupid,” he remarked, reaching for the door.

“Goodnight, Sho,” they giggled.

Once he left things didn’t feel so domestic anymore, they unbelievably felt sad and cold.

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euphoriyoongi · 4 years ago

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♥︎ Seven Deadly Sins ♥︎ ot7

♥︎ One ♥︎

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Summary: The seven princes of hell, who are the embodiment of the seven deadly sins, are sent on a mission to find the human with the purest soul. The prince who successfully retrieves the pure soul will become the next king..but what happens when all 7 of the princes fall in love with the beautiful soul?

♥︎ Pairings: ot7 x OC (original character)

♥︎ Genre: fantasy; fluff, smut, angst

♥︎Word Count: 4.0k

♥︎ Warnings: smut/sexual scenes and situations, heavy language, polyamory

♥︎Rating: Mature (18+)

prev. //next.

*********************************************************

The world is a hellish place, that's for sure.

Everywhere you look, you see some form of evil. Whether it be someone spending too much on a purse, or someone looking at themselves in the mirror thinking that they are the best thing since sliced bread.

The thing is, most of these humans don't realize what they're doing. They show little-to-no respect or gratefulness for the things they have. Most of them believe that they need more. That one dollar isn't enough. So then if they had a million...would that not be enough either?

It's all a race. For example, two brothers racing to have a better life when in reality they're just wasting it away to receive superficial things that will just be gone when they leave this world. It's idiotic, and self-centered. If people actually thought about how well they have it, they wouldn't sin. And well, every single human being sins on this planet. It's what makes it go around.

The person sitting next to you at a restaurant just ate his girlfriend's food of her plate. The waiter is stealing another waiters tip money. The owner of the restaurant is sleeping with someone else's wife. The customer threw his drink at the waitress because his food was too cold. The group of teenagers won't get up to leave to make room for the next group. Sin. It's all around. And there's no escaping it.

Well, unless you're the Pure Soul.

Choi Nari. Her name means Lily in English. And the name lily means "purity."

She's known for her ethereal looks, and cascading long black hair that flows so softly. She's sent from heaven, but has no idea of her origins. She only believes she's a human just like everyone else. And lives a life filled with peace and love.

She never harmed a single soul in all of her lifetimes. Once every hundred years, she is reborn, and every one of those years, she's avoided the devil, whom wants her all to himself. The reason? Well, you always want what you can't have, right? The devil is all sins, himself.

This reincarnation, however, will be a bit different. There's something different about her, and the only way she'll be able to avoid the devil is if she avoids sin.

The devil has his own plans, though. Hell stop at nothing to have her. He will send all of his seven sons to earth, for they need to bring her back alive so he could deal with her. And the son that successfully brings her back, will become the next king of hell.

His sons were the embodiment of the seven deadly sins. And his goal was to make the Pure Soul suffer all seven of them, and make her sin to have her all for himself.

If this plan works, he'd successfully take away all the food in the world. So, he hopes all seven of his boys will not falter at her beauty.

"You what us to do what?" Yoongi huffed at his father, crossing his arms over his chest. "Hell no, I'm not fucking leaving my soft bed for that."

Yoongi is the prince of laziness, and definitely lived up to his title. He dreamed of living as a rock in his next life, but sadly, his next life was never going to occur. He was immortal. There was ways he could die, though. But for now, the best he could do was imagine he was a rock while he slept.

The devil growled. "Sloth, you dare to deny me?"

All seven of the boys were gathered in the throne room, where the devil sat on a large chair that floated on flames. The room was all black, with a bit of red detailing.

The devil was very old. He wanted to retire the throne to one of his sons, but he didn't know which one he should give it to. They were all so untrustworthy and well, the only one who he probably could trust was the one who envisions himself as a rock. That's just sad.

When Yoongi didn't answer him, The devil's voice boomed across the high-ceilings. "God damnit sloth! You're so slow sometimes."

Smiling, Yoongi winked at his father. "It's what I do best, dad."

Still fuming, the devil looked towards his oldest son, who was currently eating a bowl of noodles. "I-how did you even get those?" He smacked a hand to his head, sighing. This was ridiculous.

Jin didn't even answer. He just kept slurping his noodles until his father got mad enough to move on with what he was saying.

"Listen, my sons. I need you to retrieve the Pure Soul."

"The pure soul?" Jimin smirked. "That hot ass chick from heaven?"

The devil smiled viciously. "Yes, that's right." Rubbing his hands together, he raised an eyebrow. "And son, I give you full permission to seduce her in any way." He laughed, knowing she wouldn't be able to cave in from his charm.

"So, she's hot? Does she need money?" Taehyung smirked as well, crossing his arms. "I could give her anything in the world."

This was getting out of hand. All he needed was for his boys to bring her back here. "Okay. Anyway, you have 100 days to bring this beast back here, got it? And none of you dare to get attached to her, or you'll be dead meat." He huffed, praying they wouldn't turn against him. Heh, praying. He hasn't done that in a while.

"She couldn't be any near attractive as me, father." Namjoon smiled. "You have nothing to worry about."

The devil hoped that were true, but he knew how beautiful this woman was, and also knew that his sons have never seen anyone like her. Even Lust, who's slept with countless demons and everything in between. He's never seen a pure soul. And even the devil himself wouldn't be able to resist.

“So, what do we get if we bring her back?” Taehyung smirked, looking at his brothers. They all looked as if they didn’t care. Well, except Jimin. He just wanted something to fuck. But Taehyung knew what he wanted. And what he wanted was to take his father’s place. His greed was strong for it, and wouldn’t stop for anything or anyone.

The devil smiled. Finally. He should’ve known it was going to be greed. He couldn’t turn down anything especially if he’ll get something out of it. “Well, the throne, of course.” He shrugged his arms upward, a sneer on his lips. “That is, if you earn it.”

“Oh, believe me, father. I will.” He laughed, looking towards his younger brother, Jungkook.

Jungkook was starting to get mad. He absolutely hated it when Taehyung would get whatever he wanted. It just wasn’t fair. As his eyes began to fade from a dark brown to a vibrant red, the prince of envy patted his shoulder. “Down, boy.”

His eyes faded back to their usual color. Envy was nice, when he wasn’t jealous. He was a sweetheart, and always seemed to be able to calm him down. He goes by Hobi, but his name is Hoseok.

“Alright. Now. Are you guys ready.” The devil growled impatiently. “Do you have everything you need?”

Every one of his sons nodded, except Yoongi. He was now sleeping while standing up. Was that even possible?

“Sloth!” The devil sneered, just waking him enough to blink. “Dammit I don’t even—Do you have everything you need?”

Yawning, he opened his mouth to mumble “have everything for what?”

Silence broke out among them. “You…you know what..just fucking go.” With the flick of his hand, the boys were now transported through time to the planet earth, where they now need to search for the Pure Soul. But wait..how will they find her?

South Korea

Spring time, 2021

The trees were blossoming. The beautiful colors of whites and pinks danced as the petals fell to the ground. Nari was enchanted with them. Their beauty was astounding. She wished she was like them, to be so graceful, even while they fell.

Her favorite season was spring. She lived a full twenty five years of life constantly waiting for spring to come back around every year. She loved to see the flowers bloom, and all the aromas of different plants. She wished she was one. They never had to worry about anything. They just looked pretty.

She never had any friends to share her happiness with. She always wished for some, praying to god that she won't be alone anymore. Was there a reason why she was? Was it because she always agreed with everyone? Was it because she was too nice?

Well, she was too nice, but she had no control over that. It's just how she was made. She didn't know she was from heaven. She only knew that her family died when she was small, and doesn't remember them. So she was alone in this world, lost and left to find her way through life. She only wished she had someone to love unconditionally, just like the couples she'd see as she'll walk down the streets.

Nari made her way back to her small apartment. It was perfect for her though. Just enough space for her to cohabitate with her cat, Mochi. There was one bedroom, and a living space that combined with the kitchen. A tiny bathroom was across from her room, but it was big enough to have a full-sized tub in it. She did like baths more than showers, anyway.

As she walked into her bedroom, her cat was sprawled out on its back on the bed, purring as it slept. Mochi was a happy cat, and loved belly rubs and being held. She’s never had a cat that loved as much attention as mochi did, and he was the type of cat that never wanted to leave her side.

“Hello, mochi mochi.” She smiled, giving him a little pet. “How’s my cutie?” The cat let out a large yawn, then started to stretch out his paws. “Ah. Big stretch.” She chuckled, letting the cat continue to sleep and walked over to her desk in front of the window.

All over it was scattered drawings and short poems she’d write when she was bored. There was something off with her, though, and she knew it. She always wondered why she flowed with everything that went on around her. No matter what it was, she’d agree with it. That includes relationships.

Nari has never been in one. Despite how stunningly beautiful she was, no one would give her the time of day. She also didn’t know her own beauty, which might be part of the reason. But was she meant to live alone in this world? Was that her purpose?

Feeling upset with herself, she walked over to her full-body mirror. There she stood, her long white dress flowed down past her knees, and her long black hair fell down towards her backside. She curled the ends of it today, feeling happy with the way it looked. Her eyes were a hazel type color, but closer to green that black. Her lips were a soft pink, that plumped and were Un-chapped.

She was beautiful. No one would be able resist her. And now, the reason she’s never had a significant other was because she never let herself notice that someone was trying. That could be because god hated the idea of it. Her soul purpose was to keep sin away from taking over the world. He never expected her to start thinking for herself. She’s been reincarnated since the beginning of time. So why is she starting to think for herself?

She spent 25 years of life without any sexual activity. Without anything special in her life. She never had a family, and works as an ice cream shop cashier. There’s nothing to her life. No purpose. She wanted to change that. But as soon as that thought went through her head, it left like a flicker of light.

“Dude, this is absolutely ridiculous.” Yoongi huffed once again, just wanting to rest. “How are we supposed to find her.”

“Yeah.” Taehyung sighed, holding pink petals in his hands that were falling down from the branches above. “Anyway, what are these things?”

“I wonder if they taste good.” Jin giggled as he stuffed a few in his mouth. Spitting them out after a few chews, he shook his head. “Nope. Not good.”

Namjoon was sitting down on the ground with his legs crossed. There were lots of people walking by, and he noticed a man fixing his hair in the camera of his phone. Smirking, he closed his eyes and made the man see himself in a new light. Too bad that new light was for him to think too highly of himself. The man then tossed his phone onto the ground and walked away, thinking he was too good to have one.

“Damn, Joon. We just got here.” Hoseok muttered. “Let’s just stick to our task.”

Nodding, Jungkook spoke up. “Yeah, let’s find this girl so we don’t combust.”

Jin side-eyes him. “What do you mean, combust?”

“Well, you were too busy eating to even pay attention to father.” Jk rolled his eyes at his hyung. Leaning up against one of the trees, he smirked. “Father said he’ll kill us if we don’t find the girl.”

Jin bursts out in laughter. “Yeah, right. As if he—wait you’re serious?” His face turned from playful to worried. “I—oh, you are serious.”

“We need a plan.” Taehyung dropped the flower petals off his palm and dusted them off. “I say we split up.”

“It’ll be an uneven number then.” Jimin pointed out, who seemed to be in and out of the conversation. There were plenty of pretty girls walking around, and he was turning himself on. “Anyway, I just want something to fuck. I’ve never fucked a human before..”

Ignoring Jimin, Namjoon agreed with Tae. “Yeah, Tae, I think we should do that too.” He pointed to Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung. “You guys go one way, we’ll go the other.”

Yoongi was surprisingly awake, and agreed also. “Alright. That’s good with me. As long as I don’t gotta do any work.”

As the boys set on to where they needed to be, little did they know that Nari passed them out as she was walking to work.

They kept walking, and Taehyung noticed a brand new car roll up to the curb. Smirking, he left the group to go check it out.

He walked around it with his arms behind his back, looking it over. He must’ve looked off because the owner of the car came out and asked what he needed.

Wrong question.

“What do I need, you ask?” Tae smiled down at the man. “What I need..is this car.” He smirked, his eyes turning into an icy blue. He wanted it, and he’ll get it. The man proceeded to give him the keys and stood stationary, and Taehyung called over Jimin and Jungkook.

“Let’s go boys!” He yelled, and hopped into the drivers seat. He didn’t even know how to drive, but he’ll make himself.

“That was fucking sick, hyung!” Jimin high-fived hun as Jungkook sat in the back with a frown on his face.

Jimin noticed. “What’s wrong, Jk?” He asked him, turning back towards him in the leather seat.

“I wanted that fucking seat.” He hissed at him, sending daggers through his eyes. This made Jimin nervously laugh, and he turned back around.

“Anyway!” Jimin changed the subject. “Where should we look for her? What does she even look like, anyway?”

As Tae drove, he described her. “Well, she has long black hair and a bright soul. We should be able to see who she is the minute our eyes land on her.”

“Ah.” Jimin nodded. “Well, the minute my eyes land on her is the minute I’ll fuck her.”

“Jesus, Jimin. Lay off the sex for once. Some of us need it too.” Jungkook growled from the back seat.

This made Jimin laugh. “Yeah, as if anyone would be attracted to your wrath ass.”

“Don’t piss him off, Jimin. I really want a peaceful ride.” Tae huffed, stepping on the gas. “I say we look around a shopping mall. Girls like shopping here too, right?”

“I like shopping.” Jk muttered under his breath.

“I say we should go to a park or something.” Jimin chimed in.

Taehyung scrunched his nose. “The fuck is a park?”

Letting it pass, they decided to drive to the nearest mall, while the older brothers were currently walking by foot to find her.

“Do you think she’ll like me? I think she’ll love me. I mean, who wouldn’t? Look at me!” Joon laughed, talking himself up as they walked amongst the humans. “I’m getting all the stares!”

“Um, no. I think it’s actually Yoongi. He looks like he’s dead.” Hoseok chimed, holding in his laughter.

Yoongi was sleepwalking. He couldn’t keep his head up, and was nearly walking like a zombie. He was catching all the eyes around him and Namjoon thought it was all for him. Well, he was most certainly attractive. But he wasn’t the reason for the stares.

Pouting, Namjoon rolled his eyes. “I’m sure I’m the reason for some of them at least.”

“Oh my god! Look! It’s a noodle restaurant!” Jin excitedly chanted, jumping up and down. He was a grown man, and looked like he was a kid at a candy store. “Let’s go!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea—hey!” Hoseok got cut off as Jin grabbed ahold of his shirt.

All four of them sat down at a table, their legs too long for the chairs. All seven of the boys were above six feet tall. That was because Satan was nearly seven feet.

“Do you think that the other boys found the girl yet?” Namjoon said as he chomped on the noodles. The noodles that they weren’t going to be able to pay for.

“Nah.” Yoongi said, shaking his head. “But if they did, good for them I guess.”

Jin was already on his fifth bowl. “I don’t really want to be king anyway. I just came here for the food.”

“Jesus fuck.” Hobi grunted. The soup part was too hot for him. “This is fucking spicy. Why is it spicy?”

“Maybe because you got the chili powder.” Jin chuckled, grabbing Hoseok’s bowl. “Here, I’ll eat it.”

Hoseok glared at him with a frown. “I don’t know how you’re so skinny.”

“Alright guys.” Joon clapped. “We should get a move on with finding her.”

When no one responded to him, he sighed, shaking his head. “Maybe I should’ve picked a better group.”

As Joon was thinking this, Taehyung was thinking the same thing.

“Alright, where is Jimin at now?” Tae sighed, putting a hand up to his head as they stood in the middle of the mall. They looked like giants amongst all of the people there, making them stand out even more. Jungkook stood next to Tae, also wondering where Jimin went.

“All I know is that he said something about going to flirt with the cute girls.” Kook stated, shaking his head. “I don’t know which cute girls he was talking about, though.”

“Oh my god. It’s never ending with him. We can’t bring him anywhere.”

It was silent for a moment, until Jungkook spoke up again. “Do you ever get so mad that you just want to kill them?”

Taehyung looked at him, blinking. “I can’t take you anywhere, either.”

While Taehyung was having an existential crisis, Nari was three stores down from him in her cute ice cream shop.

A few cute boys walked in, and ordered some ice cream. As she gathered their order, one of them kept asking for her number. “My number? Like a phone number?” She mumbled, scrunching her eyebrows.

“Yes.” The cute boy nodded, a smile on his face when he thinks he’s getting it.

“Ah, that. Well, I don’t have a phone.” She smiled at him, and continued to scoop his ice cream. The bus’s friends all laughed at this, making the one who asked get upset.

“Listen here you little bitch.” The boy reached over to grab her by the neck, making her confused as to why he freaked out. She just said she didn’t have a phone. As he pulled her against the glass of the ice cream stand, someone’s voice boomed through the shop.

“Hey hey, that’s no way to treat a lady.” The boy said playfully, making the boy who was holding Nari falter. “Well, only when you’re in bed, I guess.”

His hair was a dark blue, almost black. His eyes nearly looked as if they were a pink of some sort, but maybe he was wearing contacts.

After that comment, the blue haired man stood face-to-face with the asshole who held Nari. Letting her go, he turned toward him. “Who the fuck are you?” He said, his two friends standing behind him with crossed arms.

The mysterious man didn’t even look over at Nari. He just glared at the boy. In came two more boys, who immediately walked over to the mysterious guy. One of them had longer hair than the other, but both of them had black hair. All three of them were unusually tall, and looks as if they had no fear. The longer haired guy spoke up. “I’ll beat your ass so hard you won’t be able to walk.”

The three other boys seemed to get a bit scared, knowing they had no chance against these guys. Nari stood there, in awe of their beauty. She never had thoughts of anyone like this. They were all so beautiful, she just wanted to know more. She wanted to know why they were standing up for her.

As the three childish boys ran out of the store, Nari caught eyes with the blue haired boy, who immediately dropped his jaw.

Jimin couldn’t believe his eyes. There she stood, the most beautiful soul of the human race. Her long locks were held back by a scrunchie, and her eyes were lined with black eyeliner. She was so beautiful, he couldn’t help but stare. He wanted her.

Taehyung felt the same way as well. How in the world could a creature like this exist in the world. Is this way his father wanted her? He began to experience dirty thoughts, some of them pertaining to keeping her all to himself. That could be because of who he was—Greed. He wanted her. He wanted her bad.

Jungkook was quietly staring, his eyes open wide. He’s never experienced this feeling before, but to be fair, he’s never seen someone so beautiful in all his years of life. He wished to have something so passionately, and that something was her. He didn’t care that his brothers were also infatuated with her, he wanted her all to himself, too.

Nari didn’t even know what she had done to the boys. She had no idea that she was made just to compel the sins themselves.

What was she supposed to do now? Was she supposed to thank them? She really had no idea. But before she had the opportunity to say anything, one of the boys said something first.

“Well, we finally meet.” Taehyung smirked. “Choi Nari. The Pure Soul.”

“The..the what?”

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prev. // next.

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung #park jimin #bts hoseok #bts joonie #jung hoseok #jungkook #bts fanfic #kim seokjin

11 notes · View notes

wolfcha1k · 4 years ago

Text

It’s Our Nature

["You know, Grug. Eventually, Eep and Guy, they're going to want to start their own pack. Just like we did, it's our nature."] Grug is confused about when his little girl stopped being so little, perhaps its time Gran and Ugga tried reminding him it wasn't too long ago he was just like Guy and Eep are now. [Pre!A New Age, contains Guy/Eep and Grug/Ugga fluff/One-Shot]

You can read it here on Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13785964/1/It-s-Our-Nature

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28525908

Please leave a read and a review ~ Thank you ~It was really hard sometimes for Grug to accept his little girl wasn't so little anymore. She'd always been stuck like tar to his side and would demand stories as a young child. The old cave walls were filled with tiny hand prints he never realized had grown bigger until Guy came along and forced him to be reminded Eep was indeed a woman. She was nineteen summers old and the fact wasn't lost on anyone who had functioning eyes in their head.

Fathers only saw with their hearts though and inside Grug's his daughter was still that rambunctious sweet little girl who needed him to protect her. That also included suitors.

"Grug you're brooding again," he heard Ugga say from behind him.

"This is just my face." Grug shifted his weight from where he sat lounging against his favorite rock.

"Trust me, I can see them just as clearly as you can."

Grug couldn't help but stiffen at her call out of his snooping. Was it really spying though if the two were out in the open? They were together by the beach with Chunky playing third wheel. The demanding feline squeezed his way between them when he felt they were being too touchy. Or maybe it was just Grug self projecting, his cat generally liked being the center of attention. Guy and Eep were fishing by hand in the water but it soon turned into a game of seeing who could out run the tide first whilst trying to knock the other down. Chunky kept getting confused by this activity as he shook droplets off his wet paws.

Eep was in the lead by at least seven points, it wasn't like Grug was keeping track though. "Why didn't you tell me sooner Eep was all grown up?" Grug side eyed his mate who just laughed at him.

"She's up to your shoulder and gives you a hard time like every teenager, I thought it was obvious." Ugga nudged him with her elbow, her small hands were busy threading a bone needle with sinew as she sewed new clothes for her family.

"Well… she was always a stubborn girl and big for her age," he quipped as he crossed his arms.

"And then she got that doe-eyed look when mister-you-know-who showed up." Ugga batted her eyelashes playfully in emphasis and folded her hands beneath her chin a moment. It was hard to keep a straight face, Ugga quickly laughed it off. Grug set his jaw in a very uncharacteristic pout.

"Never should have stuffed him in the log," Grug said with less heart than he actually felt. Sure, he enjoyed roughing the kid up sometimes and making a big show of being upset seeing Eep with Guy but in truth he was fond of the… guy. It was still his job as a dad to scare Guy a little.

"Oh don't say that, he's practically our son now."

"Does that mean I need to protect him from Eep then?" He kept the edge of hope out of his voice the best he could as he faced his mate.

Ugga rested her chin on her fist thoughtfully, she put the needle safely away as she watched the two lovebirds chase one another on the beach. "You might, honestly," Ugga said with a warm voice. "She's a handful."

He heard a startled yelp from the shore and got to enjoy the sight of Guy yet again face planting in the sand. Eep pounced over his toppled form, he was spitting sand from his mouth.

"Gotta be faster than that!" She shouted with a victorious smile.

Guy mustered the energy to mockingly look at her like he was bothered but the toothy grin that spread on his face afterward said otherwise.

"Lovesick idiots," remarked Gran as she hobbled over to join them. She watched Eep and Guy fondly despite her toughness. "What I wouldn't give to be their age again. Especially with a boy like him, where was he fifty summers ago?"

"Ugh, I don't need that mental image," Grug mumbled with a shudder, his face surly.

"Aw Grug. Don't you remember what it was like to be young and in love?"

"I do, and that's why I'm worried!" Grug jutted a thumb behind him and caught the confused blank stare Guy gave the group at catching their gossip. "Young and hot blooded, Ugga."

Eep went over to haul Guy back up by the scruff of his neck. She shot Grug an embarrassed and irritated look that was muffled by her wild mane of red hair. "Ugh… Dad, we can hear you!"

"Good! So keep your hands to yourselves! You don't want little Eeps!" Grug paused. "I don't want more little Eeps, one of you is plenty!"

Guy gaped at them like a suffocating fish, Gran guffawed and shook her head. "Let them be, lunkhead. Not like they'll do anything in front of us, eh?" The two younger children of the Croods clan, Sandy and Thunk, looked up in confusion from where they were busy playing with Douglas a short distance away.

Eep pulled the curtain of hair over her eyes and wished for the ground to swallow her. Guy rubbed the back of his neck at the narrow eyed look Grug shot him.

Ugga rolled her eyes and began to try shooing the old woman off. "Mom, please."

"Come now, it's my generational right to tease the youngsters." Gran reached forward with her staff to hook it under the back of Grug's pelt shirt. She jerked it up with more speed than a lady her age should have, causing Grug to choke a moment as he grabbed for the shirt collar. "See? Like that! Sides, I got plenty of blackmail about you two turtledoves too. Grug was pathetic."

Grug eyed her with a pointed glare once he was free of her pesky walking stick. Gran was unbothered, only grinned a toothy smile as she flopped comfortably onto the sand. She glanced towards Eep who perked at the potential to embarrass her father for once. It was hard to miss the mischievous wink she sent her granddaughter. Grug didn't like the curious glint in those green eyes as his spunky daughter practically skidded to seat herself near Gran. Guy followed clumsily as she had a vice grip on his hand. How Eep hadn't pulled his shoulder out along the way, Grug would never know.

It wasn't long until the entire family were seated in front of Gran. Thunk had Douglas in his lap and Sandy was curled around Belt who cooed at the attention. Ugga gave her mate a look that was screaming 'you brought this on yourself', Grug resigned himself to his fate out of pride. Real men didn't run from such things and as the patriarch he refused to be cowed by silly stories of when he was courting Ugga.

"What was dad like with mom?" Eep asked as she leaned forward, grinning. She looked at Grug who just huffed.

"Like I said, utter mushy rotten fruit. You think Guy is tooth rotting, you should have seen your father in his day." Guy pouted at being the butt of the joke as usual, he cast his dark eyes at Grug. He smirked as if to boast at the boy, smug that he wasn't going down alone in this evening razzing. "I wanted to chuck a rock at him every time he came to see Ugga."

Some of Guy's pride was built back up again though when Eep fondly rubbed shoulders with him. Grug began to wonder if it really was self-projecting this time when Chunky nosed his way between the young couple for a snuggle. Guy looked startled whilst Eep just scratched the Macawnivore between the ears.

Ugga decided to play traitor this night. "Mom how about you tell the kids about that time when Grug went on that big errand you gave him."

Grug couldn't help but wince and gave Ugga a scowl. The little minx had the nerve to grin innocently at him despite the betrayal.

"Big errand?" Guy echoed, he was barely visible from under Chunky's massive form.

"That story is my favorite," Gran cackled with a devious gleam in her eye. "And see Guy, back in our day if you wanted to court a woman you had to do something for the head of the family! Gramp was dead so I got to pick the task. Bless that heart attack he had."

Eep and Guy shared a look before both teenagers gazed questionably at Grug. He fidgeted before rolling his eyes. "That was Yesterday stuff. Besides, Guy saved us from The End with all his weird ideas so… consider the tab paid off."

"That brain thing of yours is really useful," Eep agreed with a girlish tone.

Guy blushed red at the compliment but didn't shy away from it. If anything it just made him glow proudly. "There's more where that came from," he quipped and knocked his knuckles lightly against his temple.

Grug almost wished he'd missed the bright, lovesick smiles the two shared despite Chunky barring them apart to the best of his ability. The desire for his daughter's happiness won out though, luckily for Guy who beamed. Even protective fathers and clingy Macawnivores weren't enough to stop true love it seemed.

"Anyway… it's no secret I didn't like your dad. So I came up with the most impossible task ever to earn Ugga." Gran licked her dry lips as she grunted, "Of course Grug had to go and actually do it."

"What did you make dad do?"

"Told him to go get a hair off a naked molephant."

Guy blinked. "But naked molephants don't have hair."

"Well, this is Grug so of course the nincompoop found the one blasted molephant that had hair." Grug let himself puff his chest out like a peacock preening its feathers.

"Yeah, well, you should have known better when you set me out on a job, Gran." He gave his mother-in-law a catty grin, for now he could relish in a past victory that smarted her way back when.

Eep looked at her grandmother mischievously. "So… when does the story get good?"

Ugga snickered, by now she had abandoned her sewing to sit between Thunk and Sandy. Thunk leaned against his mother as the woman combed her fingers through his scruffy mop of hair. "When he came back with his tunic ripped apart by a tusk," Ugga interjected.

"Wow," Thunk said in awe, turning his eyes to stare at Grug. Grug appreciated at least one Crood wasn't laughing at him. "How'd you do that?"

Gran cocked an eyebrow with a chuckle. "Yeah Grug, tell them."

Grug crossed his arms moodily. "Just for the record, it was a real life or death battle getting that stupid hair."

"Ugga was sewing his left buttocks for weeks," Gran said with a slap to her knee, the memory made her lifetime, really. She lifted her bony hands up to gesture with those old curled fingers of hers a measurement. "He's got a scar like this—"

"—ANYWAY! Like I was saying," Grug grumbled. He turned his attention back to his family. He scooped up a clump of sand and clay from the ground below and drew a vaguely person-like shape into the rock he had been lounging on. Then he drew a beast with tusks and a long nose next to him. "It was a battle of life and death, there I was, twenty two summers old—"

It was pure spite that kept him going hours after setting forth into the desert. Gran was convinced he couldn't win her daughter as his mate, and so when the old lizard raised the stakes he was determined to prove her wrong. He would get Ugga, she was something special and worth more than daylight itself.

He loved her and if it took getting a stupid molephant hair to be with her then so be it. Gran had been making him jump through hurdles since the day he'd met Ugga, it was no secret they shared a mutual loathing for each other. It also came from the same selfless affection the two had for Ugga, though Grug would have thought knowing he made her daughter happy was enough for her. Growling under his breath, he wiped the sweat from his brow.

There was still a good five knuckles before the sun would set, he'd find it before then. Either that or he was going to face the dangers night brought—

“You? Staying outside at night?” Eep sounded doubtful.

“...yes,” Grug huffed.

“See? Big mush,” Gran interrupted.

"Can I finish? Nobody interrupted this much back in the cave," he grumbled moodily.

—He was sure the beast was around here somewhere as he took a cautionary sniff of the dry, dusty air. Grug could see footprints inbedded in the barren and broken ground that sand didn't cover yet. Running onwards, he pressed his knuckles into the ground as he paced himself.

Grug crossed the desert quickly and ignored the aching in his palms and feet from the hot tough earth. He was built strong and a little pain wouldn't stop his pride. He paused when the scent grew stronger, flaring his nostrils he climbed up a nearby tree to survey what was around. The sun was strong against his eyes and Grug strained through the bright rays of light to see a dark speck in the distance. In a nearby canyon below, Grug finally found what he was looking for—

"What about never being afraid?" Thunk asked his father.

Grug looked at Thunk before settling his dark eyes on his beloved Ugga. "I was afraid," he admitted with a chuckle. "But I wanted to impress your mother more. Being stubborn and hormonal is a terrible mix."

"You stubborn? No!" Eep exclaimed with a teasing grin. Guy gave her a playful look from where he was walled by Chunky.

Grug made a vague gesture with his hand and he relished in the confused faces Eep and Guy made when Chunky pressed his full weight against both of them. Guy yelped for mercy as Eep tugged on the cheeky feline that was crushing him into the sand.

"Grug! Please call him off!" A large paw cuffed his head, Guy's words quickly muffled.

"Dad!"

Grug suppressed a grin as he went back to his story. "I found the molephant so what was next was getting the hair—"

Grug couldn't say how long it took climbing down that cliff wall to reach the level the molephant was at. It was risky and went against what Grug practiced in his beliefs. Caution and fear kept him alive this long, yet here he was about to go harass an molephant for some hair it might or might not have. Dread pooled in his belly and made him cold, going after more beasts was not how he wanted this to go. Breathing heavily through his gritted teeth, Grug crept as quietly as he could across the canyon. There were many tall and small rocks around that would provide cover should he need to hide.

Grug didn't have a brain, cavemen didn't use those. At least he didn't and it showed when he found himself running full speed away from a rampaging molephant. He relied on his gut instinct to weave and dodge its massive tusks that were swung at him. Grug scrambled and whenever he managed to get close, the creature stomped it's way towards him with a vengeance.

He bit back a curse when a tusk just barely ripped part of his tunic at his chest—

"—so this is when the story gets to the best part," Eep interrupted with a cheeky hum. She'd since rescued Guy from the weight of Chunky and had him cuddled protectively in her arms. She rested her chin on his mused up brown hair. Guy idly stroked one of her hands that were interlocked at his neck and chest.

"I thought it was always at the best part," Thunk quipped in a confused voice to his sister.

"If I say anything else I'm worried I'll become Macawnivore food," Guy said and tipped his head to the side with a huff.

Ugga smiled at her children as Grug shot them a look to be silent. "Look if you want to laugh at me can I finish this up then first?"

Gran reached her staff out to bop Eep over the head, her bushy red hair cushioned the blow. "Yeah, hush your tongue."

Eep huffed when she felt Guy trying to muffle his grin into her arm. Grug shook his head at the sight, feeling a fond nostalgia swell within him despite the protective instinct. He looked at Ugga and she just arched a brow at her mate. Grug turned back to telling the story, large fingers drawing more on the rock.

"The molephant was putting up a good fight but your old dad was better—"

—He was swearing aloud and screaming as he hung onto the tusk by his shirt. Grug was glad he didn't feel wounded but this was just a disaster waiting to happen. Even the molephant seemed dismayed at the fact he now had the man stuck on his face. It kept rampaging and Grug strained against the beast in order to sink his feet forcibly into the hard earth. Dust filled the air and with his innate strength, Grug managed to swing his body around to grab it by its tusk. The molephant slowed and leaned back to buck, swinging Grug off after a lot of effort.

He was thrown through the air and scrambled to find his feet as he rolled like a big boulder. Dazed, Grug just barely got out of the way of the molephant as it charged him. Panting, Grug finally saw the hair on its angrily swishing tail. It groaned in frustration and Grug realized the molephant had gotten its massive body stuck between two rocks. Panicked and running strictly on adrenaline, Grug reached forward to yank off a clump of hair from its tail. It trumpeted its distress, Grug began to rush away but there was the sound movement. He dared to look behind him, yelling out he did all he could to escape the incredibly pissed off beast.

It only took one stupid stumble to find that in that split moment he was thrown into the air. Pain flowered under his back and rump. The last seconds felt like they were slow motion as he landed harshly into a patch of huge, prickly brambles. Everything went blurry and before he knew it, there was nothing...

He'd awoken to darkness and the scent of blood in his nose. He was tangled upside down in a bramble bush and covered in an uncomfortable amount of burrs. There was also pain in his rear end and back, Grug noted with a groan. However the panic he felt for that hair won out his concern for his current state. He couldn't go back without that blasted hair!

He froze his struggling at a sound in the distance and cowardly he hunkered down the best he could whilst suspended in the air head facing down. However, it soon turned into a voice. "...Grug! Grug?!'

"Ugga?!" He whispered harshly and in the moonlight he saw the cavewoman trotting cautiously on all fours. "I'm over here!"

Ugga hurried towards him and gave him a worried once over. Grug grinned at her concern until she scowled, harshly tugging on his ear like he was an impudent child. "Are you asking for a death wish, Grug?! Look at you! I can't believe you took mom seriously!"

"...it's good to see you too, Ugga," he grunted, pressing a hand to his ear to drown out the headache she gave him.

Ugga circled him with careful gray eyes as she tried to figure out how to get him down. "You are lucky no hungry predators sniffed you out first before I did," Ugga continued to scold.

Grug stiffened at the mention of such a risk and reached an arm to grab her shoulder as if it would protect her. "You shouldn't even be out here," he grumbled back.

"I know but after hearing mom laughing it up with the tribe about this stupid errand I needed to find you," Ugga hissed, pulling away to give him another stink eye. "I'm so mad at you right now."

"Yeah well once I find where that dumb hair went I'll be the one laughing at her!" Grug exclaimed, wiggling in an attempt to dislodge himself.

"Would you hold still? You're just going to make yourself worse," she complained and began to tear at the thicket with her strong, calloused hands.

Grug, being the stubborn man he was, continued to squirm this way and that. "I can get down myself," he huffed.

Ugga threw her hands up in frustration before yanking at a cord of bramble. "You have a head made of rocks, Grug."

Grug opened his mouth to argue back before suddenly falling. He cried out when his head hit the ground, grabbing at his neck in pain of the impact. Nursing a bump that felt like some giant goose egg, Ugga examined his tunic.

She made a noise through her teeth in fret. "How are you not dead right now?"

"I don't know!" He said with a growl, shuffling to sit up. Everything hurt from his skull to his toes that spread out in the pulse of his blood. "But between you, your mom and that molephant, all of you are really trying to bury me!"

Ugga rolled her eyes and spun him around, she pulled up his shirt before Grug could even protest. "You're lucky," she sighed, relief warming her voice. "That molephant tusk missed a major arterie. Really ruined your tunic though."

He softened and reached a hand out to touch her arm. "I got other shirts."

"It's probably going to scar. Can you walk?" Ugga faced him once again, he couldn't help but frown as he watched her wipe her bloody palm in the sand. My blood, Grug thought with a pained wince.

The adrenaline of the moment and even beyond it was wearing off, Grug really wanted to go back to his cave to nurse his wounds and ego. "I think so. Um… help balance me?"

A smile lit up her face and Grug wondered if it was the blood loss or her that made him sway breathlessly. "Sure." Ugga offered her arm to him which he took.

However, he stopped with a groan. "Ugh… wait. The hair, I'm not going back without that hair!"

"Forget the hair, Grug. Mom will get over it."

"Oh no! Ugga, I'll never hear the end of it if I don't give her that stupid hair!" Grug let go of Ugga to try peering through the darkness on the ground, crouching on his knuckles.

Ugga put her hands on her hips. "What is so important about getting my mom this hair? Naked molephants don't even have hair."

Grug just stuck a finger at her triumphantly. "Yes, yes they do and I swear to the sun it's not just me getting loopy from all this blood loss."

"Grug, you're scaring me," Ugga said in a deadpanned tone, brows arched.

"That old lizard can't keep us apart anymore after this," he continued to ramble on and on.

"Grug…"

"If it's a hair that ancient fossil wants in order to get her out of mine for good then so be it," he continued.

"Grug!"

"What?!"

"If you want to be my mate so bad why don't you just ask me yourself?"

Grug stopped his frantic search and stiffened up like a ribbit being hunted by a liyote. He turned to face her and saw she looked disappointed, arms crossed over her muscular chest. "Um… excuse me?" He wanted to kick himself for stuttering, he wasn't a boy anymore.

"I'm not something to trade for, and the fact you actually went through with it astounds me." Ugga shook her head with a sigh.

Grug shuffled his weight uncomfortably, he'd never been good at addressing his feelings out in the open like that. Even if it was for Ugga whom he loved dearly. "I know you're not an object, Ugga."

"Then why ask mom?"

"I… I don't know. I guess… I got tired of her talking badly about, you know… us." Grug looked at her with a frown, uncharacteristically vulnerable.

Ugga reached out to cup his cheek in her hand as she stood in front of him. "Mom says a lot of things, you really need to tune her out."

He turned his head to brush his nose against her palm in a fond gesture, slouching. "She always says I'm no good for you, Ugga."

"Well, lucky for us mom isn't the one you have to court. It's me." She leaned back on her heels, still stroking his face with a gentle touch for a woman as fierce as Ugga.

"I'm just saying, getting her to shut up would be a win win to this mess." Grug shrugged his shoulders in a dismissive way, a small grin on his face.

Ugga rolled her eyes at him. "You and your manly pride are going to get you into trouble."

"If I'm already in trouble I might as well finish up," he quipped. Grug found his molephant hair amongst the broken debris the molephant had left in its rampaging wake, he’d lifted it up triumphantly in the moonlight. Ugga shook her head. “Okay, now, we can go back!”

When they returned, the sun had started to rise over the desert as dawn chased off the night. Gran had stood outside the dwelling she shared with Ugga, her scowl etched deep into her wrinkled features. The other families were creeping out of their dens in preparation of the morning hunt and foraging, their curious eyes were shocked to see Grug limping back into the canyon with Ugga supporting his hulking mass.

Grug shoved the wad of hair into Gran's face with a low growl, "Here's your stupid hair!" The old woman took it with muted shock for once, gaping mouth wide as she looked between Grug and Ugga. With a burst of adrenaline and pride, he looped his massive arm around Ugga's waist to haul her over his shoulder.

She gave a startled laugh, lightly smacking her fists into his back. "We're going back to this tradition, are we?"

"I gotta make sure your mom doesn't try anything again, you're as good as mine now," Grug huffed, limping with his Ugga secured in his grasp like she weighed light as a feather.

"You're too much, Grug."

"You've never complained before," he shot back with a grin.

"C'mon big guy, I think all that blood loss is affecting your head. Let me patch you up."

Grug headed for his cave, merry that he'd gotten Ugga and at the same time shut that awful lizard of a mother-in-law up. It costed him his pride, he noted, it was hard to ignore the snickering of the families around them. He only bared his teeth at them which seemed to work for the moment. Once his back was turned the whispering and giggling continued.

Ugga merely pressed her forehead into the back of his neck and it made everything better… least until Gran moved in but that was a different story for another tomorrow.

Grug finished his story with flourish, loosely drawing what seemed to be a lopsided circle around the two images presenting Ugga and himself.

"I like that story," Eep said, a bit dreamily as she looked at the pictures. "It wasn't really embarrassing though."

"It was if you were there," Grug scoffed as he wiped his clay covered hands on his pelt.

"Well, it still makes me laugh at least," Gran said from where she sat, cackling.

"You laugh at anything that has me getting beat up," he pointed out, surprisingly with a much more amiable tone.

"Not true, now that you learned some jokes I laugh at other things too."

Ugga smiled fondly at her mate, letting Thunk sit up so she could go wrap her arms around his bicep in a hug. "Thank you," Ugga said, rubbing her nose into his cheek.

Grug softened and felt his ears burn, giving her a small smile. His eyes fell to his audience and he couldn't help lingering on Eep who still had Guy draped in her lap. They were gazing at one another like nobody else existed around them for the moment, Guy lifting a finger to fondly boop her nose.

Ugga shook her head. "Let them be, you remember what it was like still." She patted his arm fondly with a knowing smile.

Grug huffed but said nothing, just reluctantly looked away from the two lovestruck teenagers. "I've been lounging around too much anyway." He tried shrugging off the blatant teenage romance going on right in front of him. "Since they're busy, dinner duty is on me now." The plan had been fish but he knew that failed disastrously from the word go.

He grabbed Thunk by the shoulder and the boy protested a moment, Douglas scampered between their legs as Grug lead the way towards the woodland hugging the beachfront. Ugga watched Grug go, sighing like she was a girl of twenty summers old again. She reached down to grab Sandy who wiggled in her arms, Ugga tucked her under her elbow without batting an eye over the feral snarling. She cast one last look at Eep and Guy before walking off herself, intending to put Sandy down for a nap.

"C'mon you little scamp," Ugga told her daughter. "You need all the rest you can get for when Dada comes back with food."

"Hey… where did everybody go?" Eep found a moment to look away from Guy to realize the clearing had been well… cleared out. Only one that remained was Gran, the old battle ax of a woman rolled her eyes.

Guy lingered his gaze on her still. "I don't know but you are still here so it's not a problem yet for me."

She fought off a smile best she could but failed at his widening one.

"About time the two of you joined us back in this world," she grunted in a teasing tone, her joints creaking as she pushed herself to her feet.

"Oh, hey Gran." Guy waved a hand idly in her direction.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Eep inquired, huffing.

"Oh, you know very well what I mean," Gran replied, stretching a kink out of her back. She gave a satisfied sigh at the pop, leaning comfortably against her stick. "Anyway lovebirds… I want my afternoon nap now. Laughing at Grug really wipes an old lady out."

"Hold on a second!" Eep exclaimed, springing up to her feet. She unceremoniously hefted Guy up in her arms as she did so, his dark eyes only startled for a second. "Why is that story your favorite, really?" Eep asked with a squint.

She put Guy back on his own two feet though clung to his bicep. He leaned against her solid form without a thought, it came as easy as breathing air. "You and Grug didn't seem to have the best relationship," Guy added thoughtfully as he looked at her.

Gran huffed through what was left of her teeth, shaking her head. "It reminds me of how foolishly in love you two are," she chuckled at the matching blushes on their faces. "Being so devoted that you go and do something stupid to prove it. I'd watch your back Guy, Grug knows he can get you to climb in Chunky's mouth if it means Eep is your reward for it."

"Eep isn't a thing," he sputtered.

Eep couldn't help but playfully jab his ribs. "I'm not a catch then?"

"Of course you are!" Even at her most gentle, Eep knocked the wind out of him and he was wheezing.

"See! That is what I mean," Gran cackled as she reached out to pat Guy fondly on the shoulder. "Lovesick idiot. Eep has you down pat. That's okay though, us ladies like a man who's easy to boss around." She winked at Eep and Guy.

She heard Eep's disgruntled scoff as she turned away, a mischievous grin tugging her old lips. "Do try to behave yourselves. Well, I'll say ta-ta for now, loves." Leaving the two to their own devices at last, Gran began to hobble off after the direction her daughter Ugga had gone.

Guy stared at the pathway until Gran was a mere speck and turned to look at Eep. "Am I easy to boss around?"

"Behave ourselves," Eep said, pouting. "She's acting like we have no restraint!"

Guy chuckled with a teasing grin, leaning down to brush his lips against the hinge of her jaw. She immediately melted. "Maybe she's kinda right about that, at least," he mumbled against her chin.

Eep nuzzled herself closer to him, feeling his breath fan her neck. “We probably shouldn’t prove her right, you know how Gran is.”

Guy just huffed and began to pepper her neck and face in kisses, Eep had no complaints despite her playful refusal. Rebellion just came with being young, even if the old codger would relish in teasing them later for it.

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prurientpuddlejumper · 4 years ago

Text

A Deep and Rapid River, Ch. 11

<- Chapter 10

Summary: The end of a journey and the start of a new one

The world was beautiful—bright blue skies stretched overhead with a few lazy white cotton puffs drifting unhurriedly through and topping distant snow-covered peaks. Insects fluttered and chirped in the afternoon heat from the tall grass that lined the dirt road at the center of town, where tiny white and yellow flowers bloomed. Inside the gloomy church, you hadn't even noticed what was waiting just outside.

It was not a peaceful summer day, however. Word travels fast in a small village, though not always well or with accuracy, and a general chaos turns in the air—villagers carrying buckets of water clamor toward the smoke and others, still screaming, clamor to get away. It won’t be long before men with muskets come to hunt the great beast who had caused the calamity and abducted a bride from her wedding.

A large but fast warmblood waits, loosely tied to post just outside the church door. You could swear you’ve seen it somewhere before.

The creature sets you on its back side-saddle, before climbing on behind you and spurring the horse to a gallop. Behind you, a handful of villagers stare after you in shock.

“We shall be long gone before they recover enough to come after us,” he says, a laugh brightening the edges of his voice. You grin into the wind, fingers grasping at a handful of chestnut mane. You’re both exhilarated, and can hardly believe what just happened.

As you continue down the road, reality has to catch up sooner or later. Fear creeps back into your mind.

“Where are we going? What will we do?!”

“Are you not happy? You came with me of your own accord...”

“Of course I’m happy! “Of course I’m happy! You rescued me from that nightmare.” You’re not sure how to show your affection while trying not to fall off a galloping horse, so you nuzzle your face against the arm he has wrapped around you. “Only, we still have the same problem we had yesterday,” you frown.

“In truth, I may have wallowed and wasted away in self-pity, doubting if interference on my part was wanted, but I was encouraged to action. There is something that may assuage some of your apprehension.”

He slows the horse and turns its reins down a narrow path into the forest, barely visible from the road. You ride for several minutes, ducking sharp branches that tug at your dress, winding through the undergrowth until it opens up upon a small clearing at the edge of the river. The water is cool and clear, far calmer than the angry brown churning that overflowed the banks in the spring.

“This is where we first met, isn’t it?”

He slides himself off the saddle and lands softly in the tall grass. Taking the reins under the animal’s chin, he leads you toward a figure waiting at the far side of the meadow, under the dappled shade where the forest line hangs just over the riverbank. A smaller horse grazes idly beside them. He raises a large hand and waves to them. The figure waves back, mahogany curls bouncing with the movement, the light catching on their long, fussy sleeves.

It couldn’t be.

“Stop where you are!” she barks as the creature approaches too close. “Fifteen feet, remember our deal?” She holds up a hand in front of her eyes and squeezes them shut as if to erase him from her vision.

“Bess?” you stammer.

She looks up at you with big brown eyes and smiles. “Sorry for missing your wedding. I heard it sucked.”

You jump off the horse and nearly knock her her flat with the force of your hug. “What are you doing here? How did? What? And you didn’t—” your mouth is running at a million miles a minute yet you can’t quite manage to articulate words.

“Alright, alright,” she pats your back. “I am astonishing, I know.” She steps back and gestures to a large leather saddle bag next to her on the ground. “While everyone was distracted, I packed everything you’ll need to survive. Baked some hardtack special for you, so you shouldn’t starve for at least a month, though I recommend foraging something to supplement it.”

“This… this was your idea?” Your jaw hangs open. “But I… But you...” Your open jaw wobbles in disbelief, your last memory of Bess wide-eyed with terror and screaming.

She tucks a hand on her hip and looks aside. “I saw what I saw, and I was shocked. Frankly, it would have been a lot to process even without a damned—whatever you call him—involved. I didn’t say anything of course, but it was distressing. I didn’t know what to think. That you were cavorting with the legions of Hell after all? Then I recalled your strange behavior of late—your distraction, your mysterious smiles and contented sighs. Always hiding away in that barn yet refusing any aid with your chores. After I could breathe again it was not difficult to put together. I’m not a dummy, dummy,” she smiles.

“Suddenly they were forcing you to marry Ferdinand. I knew you would never do so willingly, but I had no power to stop their machinations. I didn't know what to do, so on a hunch, I checked your barn and found this brute curled on the floor with ten cats, weeping into one of your chemises. Thus I recruited him to my aid.”

The creature steps forward and gestures a large hand toward Bess in a friendly manner. “It was she who secured the horse and supplies, and who suggested—”

Bess waves him away sharply, clamping a hand over her eyes. “I’m sorry, guy, I cannot even look at you.” She shudders deep and sickeningly to her core. “You are fucking crazy,” she says to you, “I don’t get it. But this fellow makes you happy, doesn’t he?” You nod. “Then I am happy for you. This town has been a prison for you ever since we were children; I watched it draining your life, your dreams. So take your scary boyfriend and get out of here!”

Tears sting the back of your eyes. The creature was right—all along, Bess would have understood. Instead of confiding in a friend, you let fear lead you by the nose into a trap from which the two of them busted you out just before the door could snap shut behind you forever.

“I should have told you.” You wipe your eyes, laughing softly. “I’m an idiot.”

“No…” she coos soothingly, with some hesitation. “Well, yes. A little. But we love you.” She makes a visor over her brow with her hand and points in the general direction the massive, ominously looming creature is standing. “He loves you quite a lot, you know.”

“I know,” you smile, blessing him with a gaze affectionately returned (though he keeps his distance from the flighty Bess, occupying himself by packing up the horse). “He’s wonderful.”

“It takes all types,” she shakes her head. “Alright then,” she clears her throat, steeling herself, “Ride as hard as you can until you reach the next town. Blake is our fastest, strongest horse and should be able to bear the weight for a sprint of that distance. That should be enough of a head start to then disappear on foot, especially if nobody knows your intended destination is Geneva. If you would be so kind as to return the horse to the livery stable there—it is run by my cousin, and he won’t ask any questions. When you reach your destination, I expect a letter or I’ll think you’re dead.”

“You’re not coming with us?”

Her eyes grow wet. “It isn’t my journey. This place is not so much a cage for me as it has been for you. Though one day, I hope, we shall meet again.”

“I will miss you.” Your lower lips quivers with unspoken sorrow. She hugs you fiercely and protectively one last time before pulling back with a sniffle.

“Now go on! You must hurry before they come looking for you.”

The creature reaches down a hand. You clasp it, warm and strong in its grip, and he pulls you up onto the back of the muscular horse. Bess waves, running after you on foot as he kicks the horse into a brisk canter. “Don’t forget that letter!”

Tears stream down your face as you turn in the saddle and watch Bess and the river grow smaller and smaller, and eventually be swallowed up by the forest. You inhale deeply and let out a long, shaking breath.

“Are you all right?” the creature’s question vibrates in his chest, pressed to your back.

“Yeah.”

He is silent for awhile. The wild exhilaration of your escape from the church has withered and been replaced by a mournful determination to move forward. To begin new lives. The reality is not so glamorous as you reminisce on all the things you are leaving behind—Bess, Edelweiss, your flock of chickens and barn cats, the moss-covered boulders that were your secret place since childhood—yet you are ready to build that new life, whatever challenges lie ahead. You’ll have the best help one can hope for.

You let your weight shift back so your head rests against the creature’s chest. His long black hair flutters around you in the wind. He leans down and presses gentle kisses on your hair and your shoulders, and a comforting warmth spreads beneath your skin. You feel safe and cared for.

“Do you hate me? You must hate me,” you murmur into the wind, but his sharp ears pick up every word.

“I love you,” his chest rumbles. “You are my life, as much as the air that fills my lungs. Why should I hate you?”

“I was useless. I gave up. I was so terrified, I gave up on us. How can you ever forgive me?”

“You saved my wretched life long ago, dear angel.” He holds the reins in one fist, and slides his other hand under your arm, caressing your side and splaying out his fingers over your belly, smoothing the fabric of the gown. The gesture is warm and possessive, and keeps you secure on the speeding horse as you melt into him, intoxicated by his touch. “You dragged me out of misery into the light—cared for me with patience and love I never believed myself deserving of. You stood beside me and tended my wounds of both flesh and of my soul. Your company alone is a gift of which I was made unworthy. I have always wanted to thank you for saving me.”

“Now we’re even, huh?” you laugh.

“No,” he replies softly and insistently. “I think I would like to continue paying you back.”

The hand he had rested on your belly glides up to tip your chin toward him, and he presses a precarious kiss to your lips. A small jolt of hooves over the terrain sends you clutching for mane, but his steady hand darts back around your waist to keep you balanced.

“I will have to exact more payment once we have arrived on solid ground yet again,” you promise sinfully, resting a hand over his and squeezing it. “I want to kiss all of the scars on your handsome face.”

His chest vibrates with an eager hum of anticipation.

As you ride away from your old life, you feel something changing deep in your bones. You are already farther from your home than you have ever been, and ahead of you is the wide horizon of blue skies speared by sharp mountain peaks. You look up at the closest mountain to the road. It is not one you think you have seen before, although its shape is hauntingly familiar, like the face of a childhood friend, after years of separation, as an adult.

“What mountain is that?” You point to it.

“It is the white-crested peak of the great mountain that overlooks your town. The one I greatly admired from the window of the hayloft. We face its west slope, now.”

A wave of excitement for the future surges through you like electricity. What will your life look like from a fresh angle?

#frankenstein #frankenstein's creature #the creature x reader #monster x reader #fluff #epilogue #TeamBess #AND THERE YOU HAVE IT #IT'S FINISHED #I actually have so many more ideas and them leaving is just the springboard #but idk if I'll ever get around to writing them or not #so here is where it ends for now #my writing

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ddaenggtan · 5 years ago

Text

as we go along | myj [m]

pairing | min yoonji x reader

wc | 10.4k

genre | NSFW; Fluff, Smut, a dash of Angst bc why not

Four years ago, the beautiful stunning attractive frustrating Min Yoonji came into your life. Ever since, it’s been a competition between the two of you to win the HOA’s Holiday Decorating Contest. The fiery looks she gives you paired with the pointed insults throw you off your game every year, but not this time. This holiday season, you’re determines to win; and along the way you might just find that Yoonji’s been trying to win something else.

;OR the queer hallmark movie of your dreams.

warnings/tags | idiots to lovers, enemies to lovers, Awkward Gays, Idiot/Oblivious Gays, very strong language i think this MC curses almost as much as i do, oral (female receiving) x2, fingering, wall sex, theres like....a hint of body worship in that MC loves eating pussy bc lbr. what else could possibly compare to that. uhh side jinkook, as well as some side namyoonmin and some vhope if u squint real hard. hwasa and chungha are a lesbian power couple. OH The Min Twins aka Yoongi and Yoonji are siblings uwu

a/n | this is 100% every single lesbian fantasy of my dreams because i just really love the ladeez and also min yoonji needs more characterization outside of 'stone cold butch domme' so uh. here ya go. i love ladeez so this is v self indulgent and also Super Gay.

this is part of the 25 Days of Christmas: A BTS Anthology

[Today]

Red bleeds into green and glitters magnificently on the snow. Lights and tinsel are strewn all over the yard of your parents’ house, creating a rather pretty collage of sparkles and swirls against the white backdrop. You wish you could appreciate it more.

As it stands, however, you’ve been outside for hours untangling the decorative strands so that you can hang them on the gutters, eaves, and railings of the two story house behind you. Your mother had insisted you work inside but you know better. The cats - Mochi and Pablo - are your favorite in the world and you love them dearly, but one of their favorite things in the world has always been holiday decorations. The number of times you’ve had to stop them from chewing on lights of knocking the tree down is frankly ridiculous. So instead you’re unravelling everything so you can get started on what you’re sure is going to be your best year yet.

You’ve always loved decorating, of course, especially for the holidays. Getting up before dawn to go pick out one of the giant fir trees to stand in their living room, picking out new figurines for the Winter Village that sits on the mantle, helping your parents put ornaments on the tree. You love holiday decorating nearly as much as you love the feeling of victory in your chest.

“If you had an organizer that wouldn’t take nearly as long,” says a voice from behind you. It’s melodic and deceptively sweet in spite of the lower register, and you don’t turn. You don’t want to give her the satisfaction. You don’t even respond, instead settling your gloved hands on your hips and eyeing the front porch so you can decide where to start.

“Really? Ignoring me now? Tsk tsk, and here I thought you were better than being a sore loser.”

Continuing on your mission to pretend she isn’t there, you heft several yards of lights over your shoulder and head toward the ladder you have against the porch roof. You may as well start up high.

“Interesting choice,” Yoonji mutters as she watches you. The hair on the back of your neck bristles, and you take a deep breath to calm and center yourself. “I’d heard that icicle lights were a bit last season, but I’m excited for this vintage look you’re going for. If you need more, let me know. I think the ones I used last year are still in the garage.”

“What do you want, Yoonji?” You huff, turning over your shoulder to glare at her. She looks entirely too at home in your yard with a steaming thermos in her mittened hands.

“Just wanted to say hi. Wasn’t sure you were coming this year, considering how late you got in.”

“My flight was delayed for weather reasons,” you snap.

“Ah. That’s why I always drive up instead.” There’s a pregnant pause that’s filled only with the huffs of your breath as you focus on the lights in front of you. “Oh, but you never got your license, did you? Ah, you should call me next year, we can carpool.”

“I got my license this past year,” You bite out. She doesn’t need to know that it took a few tries. It’s not your fault it makes you anxious to be behind the wheel. “Seriously. I have work to do.”

“Obviously,” Yoonji mutters. You flash her a glare and she just smiles back. “Just wanted to see how you were, if you needed any…” She pauses, eyes trailing over the explosion of decorations on your lawn with thinly veiled judgement in her eyes. “Help.”

“If I needed your help, I wouldn’t be winning this year’s contest.”

“By the looks of it, you aren’t winning this year’s contest anyway.” Her mutter doesn’t escape your notice. But that’s the real problem you have with Min Yoonji.

She’s sarcastic and blunt and kind of intimidatingly hot, but you can handle that. You are a strong, independent queer woman in the modern age and you are not about to let some random lesbian intimidate you, no matter how much you kind of wanted to fuck her in the past. Yoonji is not a problem for you.

It’s the way she’s constantly putting you down, giving you backhanded compliments, and generally acting like she’s better than you. While winning your parents’ neighborhood’s annual Holiday Decorating Contest that their local Homeowner’s Association runs. Everyone gets a kick out of the friendly competition, the winners get a gift certificate to a Korean BBQ place, and a good time is had by all.

Except you.

Because you’ve made it your mission to win - to beat the current reigning champion of the past three years who stands on your lawn sipping what smells like hot cocoa and silently judging your decor choices like she didn’t put a massive inflatable pumpkin on the roof for Halloween.

She watches you the entire time you hang up the lights, carefully attaching them to the edge of the awning covering the front porch. It isn’t until your father pulls into the driveway and you’re done with the upper half completely - about to start the railing - and descending the ladder one careful step at a time that she speaks again.

“Those are hanging too low,” She tells you. She doesn’t seem to mind when you ignore her in favor of wrapping lights around the stair banister.

“Hey there, Yoonji!” Your father calls as he starts to unload the groceries. “What brings you to this part of town?” They both laugh at the joke and you force back a gag.

“Just hanging out,” She calls back. “Making sure your daughter doesn’t break her neck for some silly competition. You need help with those?” Your dad waves her off.

“I’m not that old, but thank you. Besides, it looks like you’re needed elsewhere.” He gestures with one bag-laden hand, and both you and Yoonji turn.

A large SUV pulls into the driveway across the street; the passenger door swings open before the vehicle even stops, and a girl - woman, really - launches herself out of the car. She’s across the street in record time, nearly tackling Yoonji to the snow with the force of her hug. Both look excited to see each other, a rare smile on Yoonji’s face that makes you burn with something that doesn’t feel quite like the usual rage.

The two are talking rapidly in your front lawn, too harried and chaotic for you to make out much of anything besides the fact that they missed each other. They look comfortable with each other in a way you’ve never been and you force yourself to remember that you don’t care . Even as you eye the way the newcomer’s hand sits just that little bit too low on Yoonji’s back.

The sounds of car doors closing and snow crunching draws your attention and you’re shocked to see another gorgeous girl making her way over. She looks as excited as the first, yet more subdued about it.

Likely because they’re on a lawn that decidedly does not belong to them, but you could be wrong there.

Both of the women are absolutely gorgeous, though, easily model material. The first has artfully styled dark hair that falls in perfect waves down her shoulders, and is delightfully curvy in all the places the world loves. Her cheekbones are to die for, makeup flawless, and you resist the urge to pluck at your own outfit, chosen for warmth over style.

The second woman is no different; not quite as thicc, as Jimin would say, but the figure suits her, as does the straight platinum hair that hangs down to her lower back. It’s stark against the black of her expensive-looking coat, and it only adds to the energy she carries that draws you in even as you wish it wouldn’t.

“Oh, how rude of me! These are my neighbors,” Yoonji says after a minute. You don’t miss the way she hesitates saying your name, or the almost predatory smiles the other two women get.

“So you’re the one,” The dark-haired one says. You don’t get a chance to question it before the blonde cuts her off.

“I’m Chungha,” She says with a friendly smile. “And this is Hyejin.”

“My friends call me Hwasa, though,” The brunette adds. “We hate to tear her away but it’s been ages since we’ve seen our girl.”

“You saw me like two weeks ago,” Yoonji mutters. You’re too caught off-guard by anyone calling Yoonji their ‘girl’ to respond, but you don’t miss the way her cheeks tinge pink from something that isn’t the cold.

“So we’re gonna steal her away now,” Hwasa continues, oblivious. You don’t protest, letting your father chat amicably while they say their goodbyes and you look between the girls.

Hwasa’s hand is still lingering on Yoonji’s lower back, something neither of them seem bothered by. That’s something that friends do, though, right? Jimin squeezes your ass constantly and the two of you definitely aren’t together.

You hear your name and a question but you can’t seem to really focus beyond a mumbled agreement to whatever you were asked. The way Chungha’s eyes glance over her companions feels like something more, but you can never really be sure. Not in this day and age.

But when they head back across the road to Yoonji’s house, Hwasa doesn’t hesitate to lace their fingers together. Yoonji lets her do it, and the glimpse of the grin and the flushed cheeks you see make your heart clench.

Paired with the way Chungha eyes the pair as she follows behind - a decidedly more than friendly gaze - and every alarm in your brain is going off. She looks ready to jump them both the second they get in the door.

“I’m impressed,” Your father says.

“I’m not done yet,” You tell him, turning back to the decorations sprawled across the lawn. “I’ve still got to-”

“No, no,” He interrupts. “Not the decorations. That you’re finally making strides to be nicer to Yoonji.” You stare blankly at him, not understanding what part of your attitude towards her said anything about being nicer.

And anyway, why shouldn’t she be nicer to you?

“The party…?” You blink at his words, looking in all respects like a startled rabbit. “The annual Min family holiday party? That they just invited you to? The one that you said you would attend?”

“I’m sorry, I did what. ”

“It just happened, sweetheart. I was standing right here for the entire thing.”

“No,” You tell him firmly. “No, because I would remember telling Min fucking Yoonji that I was going to her stupid holiday party.”

Your father just shakes his head. “Then perhaps we ought to get you a doctor’s appointment, sweetie, because I watched it all happen not five seconds ago.” He pats your shoulder, doing his best to show his solidarity for your sudden idiocy, and makes his way inside.

You spin to watch him go, all the potential protests and complaints clogging together in your throat and leaving you silent. He gets to the bottom step before you’re storming angrily back to your decorations, because whatever , you’ll go to the stupid party.

Yoonji can have her dumb holiday party with those overhyped cookies your father always raves about. She can have her caroling and her sing-a-long that your mother adores. She can even have her two super hot model girlfriends, because you’re a modern woman, and sometimes that’s what a relationship is. Whatever. It’s her prerogative. You don’t care. It is not going to affect you, or your decorating, at all.

You scream a little when the icicle lights you so carefully hung knock against your father’s head on his way inside.

[Three Years Ago]

“You look like you’re struggling,” a voice says behind you.

They aren’t wrong, either. You’re balanced precariously atop the porch roof your parents’ new hours, hanging garland off the edges so your dad doesn’t have to do it himself.

You turn to see who’s talking to you - especially since you don’t actually know anyone, this being your first visit to the neighborhood - and very nearly have to hold on to the edge beside you to stop yourself from falling off.

The man that stands on your parents’ front walkway is easily the most beautiful you’ve seen - a casual elegance to his stance that you’ve not seen outside of celebrities. His leather jacket looks warm and comfortable while remaining stylish, and the all-black underneath suits him while highlighting the lithe form. All of it is perfectly complemented by the mop of jet-black hair tucked under a knitted beanie, and you can’t help but wonder what kind of neighborhood your parents have moved to, when models are just walking around the streets.

“Uh…” You would kick yourself for sudden ineloquence if you thought you could without falling straight on your ass. The guy bites back and obvious smile, ducking his head for a moment to do so.

“I haven’t seen you around before,” He calls as he looks back up at you. “Did you move in recently?”

“No, I don’t live here.” He raises a brow and you huff. “It’s my parents’ place. I’m just doing their decorating for them.” The guy nods and starts to say something else, but he’s cut off before he can.

“Jimin-ah, what are you doing?” You look back to the garland as someone else walks up, some girl based on the quick glimpse you get while tugging on a strand that doesn’t want to untangle. You give them some semblance of privacy as the guy - Jimin - relays to her everything you’ve said so far. It only strikes you as a little odd that he’s being so detailed; she could be a jealous girlfriend, for all you know.

“Oh,” the girl says, tone as dry as the dead leaves piled in the corner of the yard, “Is this supposed to beat me somehow?”

“Yoonji,” Jimin scolds under his breath.

“Sorry,” You say, standing up to your full height. It’s a considerable distance considering you’re still on the porch roof. “But what is that supposed to mean? Is there some kind of competition I don’t know about?”

“Oh,” Yoonji repeats, surprise evident in her voice this time as she eyes you. You take the opportunity to do the same, and you’re glad the nip in the air already turned your cheeks pink because fuck.

Yoonji’s god damn gorgeous. She’s slightly taller than the average girl, even in the winter boots she’s wearing, but she wears the height well; her shoulders are straight and her chin has a natural upward tilt to it, like she’s used to looking down at people in more ways than one. She’s not dressed fancy - just thick leggings and an oversized sweater - but she looks like she belongs in a commercial or something. Her hair is similar to Jimin’s - pitch black and soft - but hers is glossier, more like a cat’s coat; her cheeks are pink from the cold, her lips are slightly parted and invite too many thoughts about if they’re as soft as they look, Even in such casual circumstances, she’s radiant, even as she says-

“That explains a lot.”

It takes a second longer than you’d like to admit for your brain to resume function, but when it does, you huff with indignation.

“Excuse me?” You hiss. “What, are my decor choices not good enough for whatever this competition is?”

“No,” Yoonji says slowly, cocking a brow, and you see red - and it isn’t the lights from the house across the street. You don’t even let her continue before you’re defending yourself.

“Well I’m sorry that not all of us can decorate like they just stepped out of...of…Better Homes And Gardens, or some shit like that. Some of us focus more on making sure we like our decorations and that they actually mean something instead of just doing things for the aesthetic .”

Yoonji mutters something under her breath but you can’t make it out; it’s lost among the breeze that kicks up and the soft sound of laughing that Jimin is trying desperately to muffle. You huff a little and return to your mission of dragging the garland up on top of the roof, a new determination filling your chest.

“Shouldn’t your boyfriend be doing this?” Yoonji asks, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking a brow. You freeze. You can hear Jimin’s quiet inhale, and when you look up, he’s got his lips puffed out like that meme of that guy doing the duckface. You let your hand rest on your hips and give this girl the best glare you can - which you have to admit is quite powerful when you need it to be.

Like now, when this random super hot girl is judging you for being single and also assuming you’re interested in men. The nerve of her.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” You tell her firmly. She frowns a little, and you wish the expression wasn’t so cute.

“Why not?”

You scoff. “ Because,” You tell her firmly, “Not only am I happy by myself and don’t need someone else to be complete, I happen to prefer women. You may be happy with a member of the opposite sex,” You wave at where she and Jimin stand close together and return to trying to pull up the piece of garland that’s probably stuck on something, “But I tend to lean the other way.”

Yoonji just arches a perfect brow at you, but she at least doesn’t bust out laughing like Jimin does.

“Oh man,” He says, wiping tears from his eyes as he stumbles forward, “Imagine looking at us and thinking we’re straight. Oh my god, imagine, can you believe-”

“So why don’t you have a girlfriend doing this then?” Yoonji asks. Her cheeks are a little redder, but you’re pretty sure it’s just from the cold. “Wouldn’t it be better?”

“Because I’m a strong,” You heave another string of garland up, “Independent,” heave, “Woman!” You give one last tug on the garland and it flies loose, sending you landing back on the flat of your ass atop the porch roof. It doesn’t hurt too bad other than the fact that you can see a smile playing on Yoonji’s lips and your pride has already taken a few hits.

“Well then,” Yoonji says, patting Jimin’s arm and stepping back, “We’ll stop distracting you, Miss Independent.” She and Jimin walk across the street, and you pretend not to notice the way she looks back every so often.

[Today]

“No, it needs to be taller.”

“Sweetheart if it’s any taller, it won’t fit in the house.”

You send your mother a frustrated glance and shake your head. “It will, it just needs to be the right height and shape.”

“Why can’t we just get a fake tree? They’re so much easier to move and put together, wouldn’t that be better?”

“No,” You hiss, scandalized. “Real trees are better overall for the environment, not to mention how you can’t manufacture the smell of pine trees that come with them that set the entire atmosphere. Plus this nursery uses the profits to plant more trees both here and in areas that suffer with deforestation. It’s for a good cause.”

“And that’s why we had to get here at five in the morning?” Your mother asks sarcastically.

“Yes,” You reply firmly, “Because otherwise all the good trees will be gone and we’ll be forced to choose from the leftovers.” Your mother mumbles something else under her breath, but you don’t hear it. You’re distracted because there it is. The perfect tree.

You’re two steps away from your perfect tree - tall, evenly spaced, full branches, well balanced, with the perfect shade of evergreen - when you hear her.

“It’s over here,” Yoonji’s voice echoes. “I need the perfect tree, and it’s the best one I’ve found in years.”

You ignore the way your mother lights up and shush her when she tries to call out to Yoonji. You listen closer; your nemesis is still talking, something about needing a tree for someone - which, who leaves tree shopping to the last minute? The only reason you’re here is that you got in late because of the weather - but her voice is definitely getting closer.

Panicking, you look at your tree. If Yoonji sees it, it’s definitely over. It’s perfect, there’s no way she’ll want any other, and what Yoonji wants, she gets.

The only real explanation for what happens next is that you’re running on four hours’ sleep and Yoonji tends to make you a little stupid.

“Get the other side,” You whisper to your mom. She stares at you and doesn’t move. “Hurry up, before they get here!”

Your mother watches for a few seconds as you wrap your arms around the tree, getting pricked in the face with pine needles as you do, and start to tug. It’s a heavy tree, and it’s only just started to shift when the voices get closer.

“Seriously?!” You exclaim in a harried whisper to your mom. “Not even a push?!”

“You’re trying to steal a tree,” Your mother says. “From a nursery that gives to charity. I’m not helping with that.”

“I’m gonna pay for it later!” Your mother sighs and starts pushing halfheartedly on the other side of the tree.

“Shit, no, I meant-” Your words are cut off by a grunt as you manage to catch the tree before it falls entirely. It’s heavy against your shoulder, and of course that’s when Yoonji turns the corner, followed by the broadest man you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. Both stop in their tracks at the sight of you.

“Hey Seokjin.” You say, faking a laugh. “How are you? Haven’t seen you this year. Business good?”

“Yeah,” He says, cocking a brow, “When people don’t try to run off with our trees.”

“Who? Me? I would never!” The tree starts digging into your shoulder and your legs tremble. “I just thought I’d load it up for you, y’know, save you the trouble.”

“Oh did you?” There’s amusement in Seokjin’s voice as he fiddles with his ring. “You know our policy, you have to pay before loading.”

You start to stammer out some bullshit about him being busy but you’re only halfway through the excuse when Yoonji says your name.

“It’s alright,” the woman says with a bored voice. “She was loading it up for me. That’s the tree I was coming to show you anyway.”

The weight finally overtakes you, and you crumble under it. You manage to twist so that nothing important is trapped under the trunk, but you get a faceful of needles for your efforts.

“Maybe you should do it, though, Jin,” Yoonji says. “It looks a little much for the poor dear.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin huffs. He pulls the tree off of you with what looks like little effort, hefting it over his shoulder so the base drags the ground. “Where are you parked, Yoonji?”

“Load it onto their car,” Yoonji responds. Both you and your mother stare at her in shock. “Consider it an early Christmas present.”

“Oh, well isn’t that sweet of you,” Your mother coos. She points the way to Seokjin and the two head off, chatting amicably as they go.

You narrow your eyes at Yoonji where she stands, not even offering to help you up from the snow where you still lay.

“What’s wrong with it?” You ask. All she does is quirk a brow. “The tree. Why are you giving it to me? You wouldn’t unless there was something wrong with it. So what is it? Termites? Leaking too much sap? What?”

Yoonji shrugs. “You wanted it,” She says simply. Your blood boils, and she steps back like she doesn’t even notice.

“You aren’t even going to help me up?” You call as she starts to walk away.

“Good try, Miss Independent,” She calls back. “I think Jungkook’s still in the office if you need him.”

You half-scream a growl as you flop your head back into the snow. A pout forms as you watch the sky start to color with the sunrise.

You’re going to have to throw away your perfect tree.

[Two Years Ago]

It’s the day of the contest. You’re confident in your decor choices this year, even if you couldn’t get every single thing you had in mind, you decide as you wander the neighborhood to scope out the competition. Last year you went simple and got second place, and you’ve switched it up this year. All out with the best decorations possible.

You’re going to win. Losing isn’t an option, not again. Not when you were beat by her.

It doesn’t matter, you remind yourself as you turn the corner onto your parents’ street. Your decorations are as good as they can be.

Your mood sours a little when you see a figure in the yard across from yours, but the soft beanie and oversized hoodie cheer you up once you notice them.

“Yoongi!” You call with a smile. The man turns and gives you a gummy grin. “I didn’t know you were in town!”

“Yeah, we got in late last night. Kinda crashed once we did. Then someone dragged us all out to the store early this morning.” He rolls his eyes and you laugh.

“Well the house looks good. Not as good as mine, obviously,” You tease, “But good.”

“Yeah, you might win this year. Yoonji’s got some good competition.”

You sniffle a little, doing your best to contain your distaste for his twin.

The Min twins, nearly identical save for the fact that they aren’t the same gender, are easily the best and worst things about the neighborhood. Worst because of that pompous priss Yoonji, obviously.

Best because Min Yoongi is one of the sweetest people you’ve ever known even if he is a bit shy. You met him last year, when he’d carried in an obscene amount of groceries for your mother and you’d almost mistaken him for his sister. You’d made him coffee to say thanks, the two of you talked, and you’ve been friends ever since.

“No Jimin?” You ask him. He gestures vaguely to the roof, where you can see a small blue hat bopping around. “Ah. I take it you aren’t finished yet, then.”

“Do you know any other reason my sister would have my boyfriend on the roof?” You share a grin with him as you both watch a strand of lights fly off somewhere. “Apparently she needed to make some last minute adjustments. That’s why she dragged us all out to the store, to hunt down some stuff for her.”

“Oh, did you happen to see one of those big dancing snowmen? The one that plays music, you can control it all from your phone? I looked everywhere and couldn’t find one, it’s the one thing I was missing. Had to use an inflatable yeti instead.” Yoongi frowns.

“Huh, how weird. That’s what we were-”

“I got it all ready, it just needs to be plugged in.”

Yoonji strides out from the house - looking as good as ever in some plaid pants, how dare she - and stops dead when she looks up and sees you.

“What are you doing here?” She snaps, and you scoff.

“Visiting a friend,” You respond with a nod towards Yoongi. You take a glance at the phone in her hand, then up to where you can see Jimin standing up a snowman. “Did you seriously steal my idea?!”

“What? No.”

“Really. Because I distinctly remember telling Jungkook about this yesterday while I was picking up my tree and you were right beside him talking to Seokjin. I was even going to put it on the roof so everyone could watch it dance to Pentatonix covers.”

“Like I would listen when you talk,” Yoonji says. Yoongi sighs but you can barely hear it over the flood of rage.

“Y’know what? Get fucked,” You tell her as you storm out of their yard and back to your parents’ house.

“I guess you won’t be coming to the holiday party then?” She calls over the road. You send her a rather vulgar hand gesture in return that you hope your parents don’t see. By the time you get inside, the snowman is playing a Mariah Carey Christmas song and you kind of want to set it on fire.

You do not win the competition that year.

[Today]

Maybe you should have listened to your parents when they said not to drive today. Probably you should have taken the big ass truck that your father keeps in the garage specifically for when the weather is bad, because it’s got that fancy four wheel drive and traction control and all sorts of stuff meant to keep people safe in the middle of floods and monsoons and blizzards. You definitely should have remembered to charge your phone before you left the house.

Especially considering that your car isn’t great in the snow now falling gently from the sky to land on your hood, mixing with the smoke pouring out from under it.

You’re lucky you managed to drift to the side of the road and get your hazard lights on, but that’s where said luck runs out. Your phone is dead, it’s several miles back to the house, even further than that to town, and the temperature is already dropping into dangerous territory.

You’ve been sitting here for three hours, though, tucked inside the residual warmth of your car with spare blankets wrapped around you as you watched night fall. You’re not sure what else you can do. There aren’t any wild animals around here, or anything like that, but it’s definitely too dangerous to trek back to the house.

“I should’ve just walked back earlier,” You groan as you bundle the blankets closer. “At least it was warmer then. Stupid car, stupid car, stupid me , didn’t charge your stupid phone, how dumb am I.”

Your tirade against yourself continues for several minutes and includes a few very crafty curses that would make your mother gasp. You’re in the middle of another when lights shine into your mirrors, nearly blinding you.

The lights slow and come to a stop behind your car. A door shuts and you scramble to exit, ready to get on your knees and beg whoever it is to give you a ride to literally anywhere that has heat.

It takes a second too long for you recognize the shiny purple jeep and the elegant black peacoat backlit by the headlights, and by the time you do, she’s already got an angry snarl on her face.

“What the fuck are you doing out here?” She demands. You shiver in response and glare at her.

“Oh, just hanging out, thought I’d take a little nap beside the road in the freezing cold, the usual y’know,” You bite back. She rolls her eyes and starts back towards her jeep. You frown, watching her, and she stops with one foot inside and her hand on the door.

“What are you waiting for?” She asks. You shrug, and she huffs. “Get in the fucking car, I’m taking you home before you turn into an icicle.” You don’t move and her frown deepens. “Fine, but if you die out here, I’m not the one that’s going to tell your parents it was because you were too stubborn to accept a ride.”

Guilt gnaws at you, and with a frustrated huff, you stomp your way over to the passenger side of her jeep and climb inside.

She’s careful as she drives, you notice. Long fingers wrapped tight around the wheel, jaw tensed so hard it could be stone, and one arm leaned against the window after she’s finished turning the heat up as high it will go.

It’s not even been five minutes when she tosses a thick, fleece-lined blanket at you. You look at her, ready to be pissed off, and she cuts you off before you can complain.

“Your teeth are chattering so loud that I can’t hear myself think. Try not to get hypothermia before we get there, okay?” You huff a disbelieving laugh but curl into the warmth of the blanket anyway. It feels almost too-warm, like when you pull clothes out of the dryer, but it’s a comfort against your freezing skin.

“Why are you even here? You aren’t heading back from town, you’re not heading to town. Do you just drive around looking for lost girls?”

“No,” She says carefully, hand tightening around the wheel. It’s all she says for a full minute before she sighs. “Your parents got worried.”

“What?! ”

“They said you went to town to pick up some salt for the sidewalk and drive, and that it had been hours, and that they hadn’t heard from you again even though you took your phone. They were scared that something had happened, so I…”

Your sarcastic response dies on your tongue when you look at her. Really look.

Her shoulders are tense and set, in a way you haven’t seen before. Her brows are creased, and the pretty lips you refuse to acknowledge are set in a thin line and turned down at the corners. There’s something fizzling in the air between the two of you, something new and unknown.

“...Were you worried about me?” You ask quietly. She shoots you a look and then laughs, a second too late with not enough amusement.

“Drink that,” She says, gesturing to a thermos. “It’s coffee, it’ll help you warm up a little.” You take the thermos, thoroughly enjoying the warmth it provides your hands, and take a sip. You don’t know why, but you’re surprised when it’s the exact way you like it. You shoot her a thoughtful look, wondering just how else she might surprise you.

The rest of the ride is quiet, only the lull of the engine and the tires. Neither of you talk much; perhaps because she’s too angry, but you’re too distracted by your own thoughts to say much.

There’s no way, right? The two of you hate each other, you have since you met. It tints all your interactions, colors every single conversation where either of you are even mentioned, it’s one of the basic facts of the universe.

So why, as Yoonji pulls into your parent’s driveway and smiles at where they stand watching from the window, do you have a feeling like maybe you’re wrong?

[One Year Ago]

“Really? Inflatables?”

You scowl and turn, already prepared. There stands Yoonji, arms crossed. The weather is fairly mild for the season, and she’s taking advantage of that. High waisted shorts, an off-the-shoulder top, lace-up boots, leather jacket, she looks like every rebellious lesbian you’ve ever dreamt about, and it only makes you hate her more.

“Yes, inflatables. Because some of us like a little fun. Besides, you stole my dancing snowman last year, and I wanted something you aren’t going to rip off.”

“I didn’t steal your-”

“Whatever,” You interrupt, not wanting to even bother to listen. “Don’t you have someone else to bother?”

She starts to say something else, but the slam of the front door cuts her off. You turn and grin, waving.

“Tae! C’mon, put it over here!”

Taehyung smiles and makes his way over, inflatable deer in his hands. Yoonji’s silent as he gets there and sets the animal where you direct. When he’s finished he turns to you, boxy smile and all, to make sure he’s good, and glances at Yoonji.

“Oh, you didn’t say you had a friend over,” He whines. “Now I’m being rude. Hi, I’m Kim Taehyung.”

Yoonji doesn’t answer, merely eyes with distaste the hand he’s got extended.

“Right. Well then, I’m gonna go get the fawn, alright? Be right back.” He smiles at you, and you watch as he jogs back into the house.

“I thought you only brought Namjoon with you this year.” You turn at Yoonji’s words.

“No, Tae came as well. It’s a good thing, too, because Joon is utterly useless now since he met Yoongi and Jimin. Little punks stole my best friend.” You’re only mostly kidding. You’re happy for Namjoon - he’s been somewhat lonely these days, and now he’s got not one but two handsome men vying for his affection.

It does reinforce your own loneliness, though.

“I thought you liked girls.” You look back at Yoonji and notice she’s got a small pout on her face. It’s cute.

“I do like girls.”

“Then why is Taehyung here?” The way she says his name is full of spite, and it makes you laugh.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize that I had to get your permission when I want to bring my friends and loved ones up to visit my parents for the holidays.” You adjust the inflatable deer, posing it so that it looks like it’s glaring at Yoonji’s house in anger.

Taehyung comes back out before Yoonji can say anything. He’s got his jacket off now, and he does look good in the simple white shirt and the headband that makes his hair look even fluffier than usual. You just really can’t focus on anything but the inflatable fawn he’s got tucked under one arm and the matching rabbit tucked under the other.

Yoonji’s eyes narrow ever so slightly, and you roll your eyes.

“You need another deer,” She spits before she turns around and stomps back to her house. Taehyung shoots you a look.

“I take it that’s Yoonji, then,” He says with a laugh. You make a puking sound and he tuts at you. “You’re supposed to be nice. That is not nice.”

“Yeah, well, she didn’t steal your dancing snowman, did she?”

Across the street, you can see Yoonji fuming as she stands on the porch, talking to Yoongi about something or other. They both look over and while your first instinct is to turn around like you haven’t been watching them, you resist. Instead, you give Yoongi a bright wave. He doesn’t return it but his frown lessens slightly, though that could be because Jimin stumbles, laughing, out of your parents’ house with Namjoon not far behind him.

Both of them have hearts in their eyes, and it only gets worse when they look at Yoongi.

“That’s disgusting,” Taehyung says with a wrinkle of his nose. “Eugh, they’re so couple-y and gross. Remind me not to come next year if Namjoon’s here.”

“Oh no,” You tell him with a grin as you wrap him in a hug. He’s warm and solid against you, as he always is, and you thoroughly enjoy it. “If I have to struggle, you do too.”

“Fine,” He whines dramatically. “But I’m bringing Hobi so he has to suffer, too.” You laugh and set him to work organizing the inflatable animals. There are eyes on your back the entire time, but you refuse to turn around and give Yoonji the satisfaction.

Especially once you realize that you do need another deer to make it look balanced and perfect.

[Today]

The holiday party is well underway by the time you arrive at Yoonji’s, however reluctantly you do so. Your mother and father disappear almost immediately, sucked into conversations with people they’ve known for years now; Tae and Hobi are tucked into a corner, nursing glasses of cider while they look at the rather extensive Winter Village display on the Mins mantle; Namjoon has been here for hours already, and is no doubt locked away in Yoongi’s room with the man himself, and Jimin, and you choose to believe that they’re having some philosophical discussion and not doing anything else.

You think you catch a glimpse of Jungkook amidst the people from the neighborhood, but by the time you get to where he was, there’s no sign of him, or the broad-shouldered man he’s usually with. Abandoned in the kitchen, you pour yourself some cider and spike it with a hint of rum, just to get you through the night.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” A voice says.

When you turn, you find Hwasa perched on the countertop, Chungha leaning back between her legs. Both are watching you curiously, and both look absolutely fantastic in figure-hugging dresses and tights and heeled boots. They look like they just stepped off a runway, but the look in their eyes feels more like a panther than a model.

“What boyfriend?” You ask eventually.

“Tall, great chest, soft hair,” Hwasa says. When you just stare at her, she smiles a little. “Boxy smile.”

“Oh, Tae?” You laugh a little. “He isn’t my boyfriend. I’m not even interested in him like that, he’s just my best friend.” The two women share a look and Chungha kisses her cheek before heading out of the room. Hwasa eyes you and you have the distinct feeling you’re being judged.

You thought you looked okay when you picked out the simple but nicer outfit; black sweater, maroon skirt, tall black boots. It’s classy but casual. You’re sure of it.

At least you were.

“So tell me about this thing with Yoonji,” Hwasa eventually says. You nearly choke on your cider.

“I mean...there’s not much to tell. We’ve hated each other ever since we met four years ago.”

“Oh?” Something lights up in her eyes that you don’t particularly like.

“Look, no offense to you or your girlfriend, Yoonji’s just...kinda mean for my tastes. I guess some people are into that.”

“Elaborate.” Her tone leaves no room for argument, and you find yourself explaining before you can stop. You tell her nearly everything, about all the shit Yoonji’s done to you, and by the time you’re finished, she’s actually smiling.

“Like...I’m sure you love her and all, otherwise you wouldn’t be dating her, but-”

“What? ” She nearly falls off the counter, she’s laughing so hard, and when you start to help steady her, she just waves you off. “No, sweetie, I’m dating Chungha, not Yoonji.”

“I thought you were dating both of them? Did you all break up?”

“Oh my god , she wasn’t kidding,” Hwasa says breathlessly, still fighting back giggles. “Holy shit, this explains so much. Ha, oh my god, no, we never were dating Yoonji, she’s just our best friend. Like you and that Taehyung guy?”

“Oh.” You feel foolish; it makes sense, friends can be just as physically close as romantic partners. You and Taehyung are proof enough of that. “I...just assumed…”

“I know, but you’re definitely wrong. You drink more cider, stew on that, maybe rethink things from another perspective, I’ve got to tell Chungha about this, it’s too good.” Hwasa hops off the counter with ease and disappears out the door before you can ask her to explain what she means about other perspectives. You can hear giggles as they slowly drown in the chatter of the party and the soft carols playing over the speakers.

You stay in the kitchen for a while, nursing your cider and thinking. If Yoonji doesn’t have two model-hot girlfriends, then could you have been onto something in the jeep that night? You’ve hated her for so long, and assumed that she hates you in return, but if you were wrong about the girlfriends, then maybe you’re wrong about that, too.

Something enters your vision and you look up, nearly spitting out your drink as you do.

Yoonji stands in front of you, in a slinky green velvet dress that she keeps tugging the bottom of. It doesn’t look like anything she usually wears, down to the floral lace tights and the wedge heels that make her even taller than she already is, and she looks slightly uncomfortable if the burn in her cheeks is any indication.

The worst part is that she looks good. Like, good good. It suits her, even if it isn’t her usual style, and for once you can’t deny the attraction swirling within your stomach.

“What are you wearing?” She asks angrily, glaring down at your clothes like they kicked her dog - whom you have not seen tonight, which is a travesty, because you adore Holly. A cough echoes from somewhere behind the two of you, and Yoonji wrinkles her nose. “I mean...I like...your outfit.”

You quirk a brow at her and set your cider down on the counter nearby. “Really? Because it looks like you want to tear it off and then set it on fire.” Something complicated happens with her expression and a spark ignites in your mind.

“Are you sick?” She asks. Her face does something else complicated as a groan echoes from nearby, and something painful twists in your stomach. You really didn’t think you looked that bad. “I mean, after the other day. With the snow. And the cold. Are you sick?”

“Is...this your way of telling me I look ill?” You ask her. She frowns. “Because if wanted me to leave your party, all you had to do was say that, you don’t have to insult me.” You head toward the door of the kitchen and there’s a scrambling that sounds much too loud for just her friends.

So your friends are also eavesdropping. Fantastic. Now everyone knows she’s insulted you. Just what you needed tonight.

Her hand catches your wrist as you’re about to leave the kitchen. “I didn’t mean it like that,” She mumbles, not making eye contact. “I just...wanted to make sure you were feeling okay. It was really cold that night, and you were out there for a long time.”

“So, what, you suddenly care? Why? Because you don’t want to win by default or something?”

“No, because I-” She cuts herself off with a groan, and you’re glad there are so many people around, because it seems like everyone’s distracted with something else. They’re too busy to notice this absolutely disastrous conversation.

“Hey look,” Taehyung says, appearing from nowhere and pulling roughly on Yoonji’s arm until she’s standing beside you in the doorway. “Mistletoe! How random! Guess you have to kiss!”

“That’s a stupid tradition,” Yoonji spits, and you’re inclined to agree with her. “Forcing people to kiss just because of some plant? How is that okay? Besides, it’s got nothing to do with the actual myth behind it, and-” She sounds like she could go on forever, but you cut her off.

“And it’s not like we want to kiss anyway.” Her grip on your wrist slackens, and you turn to look at her. Uncertainty fills you as you look at her expression, because the only word that comes to mind is crestfallen. “Right?”

“I...I mean…” Taehyung disappears as Yoonji searches for words, and you just know he’s hanging out somewhere nearby to watch it all happen.

“Because we’re nemeses.” You say slowly. “We hate each other.”

“Do we?” Yoonji asks quietly, threading her fingers through yours. “Do you?”

“Don’t you? ” You ask her. “You’ve been nothing but rude to me since we met. You’ve insulted me, and stolen my decorating ideas, and-”

“No,” She says quickly. “No, I never meant any of it like that, you just never gave me a chance to explain. You’re...you’re so pretty, and I always get flustered around pretty people, and I say the wrong things.”

“You told me I wasn’t as good if I didn’t have a significant other the first time we met.”

“I was trying to figure out if you were interested in women, and when you said you were, I just...panicked, because I figured you had someone, because you’re…” She gives a wave to your general being.

“You stole my dancing snowman.”

“I did not! I heard someone talking about a dancing snowman at the tree nursery, and I didn’t realize it was you, and I thought, since I couldn’t stop thinking about you, I’d get a dancing snowman that would play this cheesy playlist thing I made for you. I didn’t know you were looking for it, and I didn’t steal your idea. Not on purpose, anyway.”

“Okay, well...last year you were so rude! And you said you wouldn’t listen when I talked!”

“I thought…” She trails off, looking ashamed. “I thought you were dating Taehyung, and I got jealous. But the listening comment wasn’t like that! It’s because I always zone out because I like to listen to you talk, because your voice is so pretty, but I never hear what you actually say, and also you just...are really pretty. So I get distracted.”

“I…” You’re rather speechless; your entire world has shifted on its axis. “I thought you hated me.”

“Never.” Yoonji insists. “I just don’t know how to talk to pretty girls.”

“You hang out with Hwasa. And Chungha.”

“Yeah, and?” Her brows furrow. “What’s your point?” If you could, you would keysmash at her, but as it stands, you just gape.

“Uh, they’re literally model gorgeous?”

“Oh, are they?” She looks down at where your fingers are still entwined with hers. “I hadn’t noticed.”

You blink at her, and she looks up at you. There’s a faint smile playing on her lips, and something bright in her eyes that you haven’t seen before.

“I’m sorry,” You say, shaking your head. “I just still don’t-”

“Will you shut up?” Yoonji asks, free hand coming to gently glide across your cheek. “And let me kiss you?” Your jaw shuts with a snap and you nod.

Her lips are soft against your own, and your breath catches in your throat as you return the kiss. Her hand moves to grip your jaw, tilting your head ever so slightly so the two of you fit together that little bit better, and your hands come to rest on her hips.

Electricity sparks through you to her. She pulls back just a little and you’re distracted by the way her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

“This might be moving a little fast, since we hated each other an hour ago-”

“You hated me an hour ago,” She corrects.

“But I would be very, very happy taking this to a more private area so I can express to you just how apologetic I am that I thought you hated me.” You tear your gaze from her lips to look at her face. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown out at the mere thought.

“Upstairs,” She growls, already pushing you in the direction of the staircase. You’re both speeding through the crowd of people as fast as you can without being obvious, and you have to help her every few feet because she’s wobbly in her heels, but by the time you make it up the stairs and into her room, you’re both desperate.

Her mouth meets yours with a fire behind it that you’ve never felt before, and you hardly even get the door closed before she pushes you back against it. Your tongue darts along the seam of her lips and she grants you entrance, and you could moan at just the taste of her if you were just a little weaker.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this?” She whispers, moving to nip at your neck. Her hands are under your sweater and you don’t even remember them getting there, but you can’t complain as they move to cup your breasts and tweak your nipples through your bra. “Can you even imagine how many times I’ve dreamt of touching you? Tasting you? Hearing you moan?”

She bites, hard and rough, and you can’t stop the moan that escapes you. How she possibly knows that you like that is something you don’t have the energy to ponder, nor the will to question.

“Please,” You breathe, hands tangling in her hair as she sucks a mark into the skin of your throat. She’s slotted between your thighs and your hips are rutting against hers ever so slightly, desperate for some friction. You know you’ve already soaked through your panties, which is a feat considering all she’s done is play with your nipples a little and kiss you like you’ve never been kissed.

“What is it, angel?” Her voice is deeper than usual, roughened by the desire coursing through your veins and hers, and it only makes you wetter. “What would you like me to do?”

“Anything,” You plead. “Please, just touch me.”

“Anything?” Yoonji mutters. She chuckles, low and raspy and so unbearably attractive that you want to scream. You almost do scream, from frustration, when she pulls her hands away from your nipples, but she drops to her knees and you forgive her.

Yoonji kisses up your thighs, from the edge of your boots all the way to where the hem of your skirt hits mid-thigh, and her hands are warm as they slide underneath. She doesn’t stop kissing you, not even as she lifts the fabric of your skirt and nips at the crease where your thighs meet your hips. Still, she’s so far away from where you need her, that you can’t help your whine.

“Patience, angel,” She whispers as she glides one finger along your fabric-covered lips. Your hips rut forward on instinct, and she laughs a little.

“You stole my dancing snowman, you could at least be quick about this,” You mutter.

“What’s the fun in being rushed?” She leans forward to mouth at your pussy through your underwear and your legs tremble slightly. She’s gentle as her hands slide your underwear down to pool around your ankles, and even more gentle as they glide back up to rest on your thighs. “But I’ll be nice this time. Besides, I’ve been dreaming of what this pussy tastes like for years.”

Anything else you might say to her is cut off with a moan as her tongue starts to tease at your clit. One of your hands comes to rest on the back of her hair before you even realize you’ve moved, and she takes that as all the encouragement she needs.

Yoonji eats pussy like it’s the last meal she’ll ever have, and you’re in absolute awe. The way her tongue moves against you is absolute bliss, no matter where it is; she teases at your entrance, sliding the very tip of her tongue inside to gather your wetness before she runs the flat of it up to your clit, where she circles and sucks mercilessly before moving back down to thrust it in and out and in and out relentlessly. She coaxes an orgasm out of you faster than anyone else ever has, and even as your writhing against the door with her head under your skirt, she doesn’t stop.

Instead, she slides one long finger inside of you and keeps it there. She doesn’t move it, doesn’t even allow it to twitch, but it’s there and you can feel it as she wraps her lips around your clit and sucks, making your clench around her. She moans into your pussy, too, the entire time she’s at work between your legs, and it only turns you on more when you glance down to see her hand between her legs.

“Yoonji, please, I want, please, I wanna taste you too, please,” You beg, tugging gently on her hair until she pulls back. Her chin is covered in your cum and the sight is so unbelievably unerotic that you could probably come just from that.

“Take this off,” She growls, pulling on your skirt as she stands. You do as she says without hesitation, more than willing to get naked if it means getting your mouth on her, and by the time your boots are in the corner with the rest of your clothes, she’s just as naked as you are.

And god, she’s beautiful.

Your lips meet hers again as you push her towards the bed, and you can taste yourself on her tongue as it slides against yours. The two of you tumble onto the mattress and you situate yourself between her thighs. It isn’t until you’ve got her legs spread wide and your licking and sucking at her nipples that you register that her face is flushed with something new.

“What is it?” You ask, panting, as you detach from her - beautiful, wonderful, adorable, perfect - tits. “Do you not want me to? I don’t have to, I just would really like to, it’s up to you.”

“No, it’s not that, I’ve just never…” She trails off, looking embarrassed, and realization smacks you in the face.

“No one has ever gone down on you before?” You ask in disbelief. She shakes her head.

“I’ve always been the one to do so, all the other girls have been kind of...well. I’m usually the dominant one, so…”

“Yoonji, sweetheart,” You say seriously, pressing a kiss to her cheek with each word. “Will you allow to me to eat you out? Because seriously, those other girls are trash, and I would absolutely cherish the experience if it’s something you want.”

Her face turns even more pink and she nods. You press a quick kiss to her lips and gently spread her thighs so you have better access. You mimic her actions from earlier, pressing kisses to her thighs and the crease of her hips. When you finally get a taste of her, you moan.

She tastes like absolute fucking bliss, you decide as you glide your tongue through her folds. You could live off of nothing but the taste for her until the end of time itself, and the way she moves is amazing. Little jerks and thrusts, and her fingers tangle in your hair to push you closer even as her hips pull away slightly.

Your tongue rubs circles around her clit, flicking and licking and coaxing her closer and closer to her high. You dip down to fuck your tongue into her for a second or two, and the way her back arches is art in motion. You reach one hand up to tweak one of her nipples while your other arm remains wrapped around her hip like a steel bar, keeping her in place even as she grinds against your mouth.

You remember how it felt earlier when she wrapped her lips around your clit, so you mimic the action. Her bud fits perfectly between your lips, and when you suck on it, she tenses. Everything stops for a second, and you’re afraid maybe you ruined it, but then her whole body jerks, and she presses you hard against her. You lap up her essence as it comes, eager and more than willing, and when she finally stops spasming, you pull yourself away with a grin.

“Holy shit,” She mutters, and you laugh.

“I can’t believe no one’s ever eaten you out before,” You sigh, one hand sliding along her waist to massage her breasts. “Does that mean no one’s ever fucked you before either?”

“I mean…” You stop, staring at her with wide eyes. “I told you, I’m usually the dominant one, so most people don’t really...return the favor.”

“Can I please fuck you?” You ask in a rush. “Please, I promise I’ll be gentle.” She huffs a little, and you think it’s amused but you can’t be sure, because she’s spreading her legs again and your focus is elsewhere.

“Yeah, angel, you can fuck me.”

You lower yourself to kiss her, lingering and deep, and you don’t miss the moan she gives as she tastes herself on your tongue. You wait until she’s thoroughly distracted by the way your mouths move, then glide your fingers over her.

Her clit is still sensitive, based on the way she jumps as you ghost your fingers over it, so you avoid that. You don’t want to overwhelm her. She groans as you slide a single single finger inside her, and you moan.

Her walls are softer than the velvet of her dress, and warm around you. She’s tight, too, so incredibly tight that you aren’t sure you’ll be able to fit another inside her. She moans as you slide your finger out and then back in, gathering more of her wetness as you do.

You’re careful as you fuck her, gentle and slow, and you think you could get addicted to it. Her hips move in time with your hand, gaining speed as you do. “Fuck, angel, it’s so good,” She whimpers. You smile.

“Let me know if it gets too much, okay?” She nods, and you start to slide a second finger in. Yoonji winces, just a little, so you slow until her hips rock against your hand.

“More,” She breathes. “Please, more.”

“As you wish,” You tell her. You still are gentle as you thrust into her, feeling her walls contract around you. It’s heaven, absolute perfection, and you tell her so as she grips onto the sheets.

You latch your mouth onto her nipple as you continue fucking her, biting and sucking as your fingers curl.

“I need, ah, please, I need more, I need, holy fuck, to come, I need to come,” She moans desperately. You grin and curl your fingers more, sliding them against her walls. You finally find what you’re looking for, that small spongey spot that has her convulsing around you.

“That’s right, baby,” You coo, “Come on, I know you want to.”

Her hands are in a death grip on your shoulders, and they only get tighter as you press harder against that spot inside her. She comes with a cry that you muffle with your own mouth, her body shaking as she lets go.

You slide your fingers out when she’s relaxed a little more, licking the taste of her off as she pants.

“Holy shit,” She breathes. You grin, peppering kisses along her stomach, up her chest, along her throat and over her cheeks. “Can we do that every day?”

“I dunno,” You tease. “Are you going to steal my dancing snowman again?”

She rolls her eyes and shoves at your shoulder, and you laugh.

“I’m just saying, you’re supposed to be nice to the people you like.”

“I’m bad at that, though,” She mutters. “I always just...say the wrong thing. I’m more of a do-er.”

“I’m still caught up on how I was supposed to know you liked me based on the things you did.”

“Really?” She huffs, glaring at you playfully. “I went tree shopping at five in the morning for you.”

“Yeah,” You say softly, grinning. “You did.”

25 Days of Christmas: A BTS Christmas Anthology

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