#for this genre it does not belong and in fact works against the purpose of the story

[kingofbodyrolls]

Sprout | knj | two

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Summary: You love your plants, you love your garden, you do not love your new neighbor. You hate him with all your might— he wrecks everything you hold dear so you do the only reasonable thing: retaliate. 

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader 

AUs: neighbors au, gardening au, non!idol au → strangers to enemies (mostly one sided) to friends to lovers 

Genres: slice of life, smut, humor

Rating: mature

Word count: 3.8K

Warnings: even more stupid and petty behavior from reader; cussing, name calling and all that. Sexual tension and frustration.

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Author’s note(1): Jungkook has gotten enough 😏

Taglist: @svnbangtansworld

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there 🙂

Jungkook insists you're being petty, taunting you daily with the idea that your actions stem from an overwhelming affection for your neighbor. Yet, the truth is far from it. It's the opposite. You despise him with every fiber of your being. His incessant disruptions and the havoc he wreaks on your belongings fuel the flames of your animosity. No, you do not love your new neighbor; you fucking hate him. 

Jungkook makes a passing remark about ‘pulling pigtails,’ but you shut out the rest. 

Almost every day, the cacophony of your neighbor entertaining a friend reverberates through the walls. The persistently loud ambiance raises questions. Why does he insist on keeping the window open? Is it deliberate, a perverse invitation for everyone to bear witness to the audible symphony of his intimate moments? 

Frustration simmers within you, and you roll your eyes in exasperation. Attempting to address his disruptive behavior has become a futile exercise; each conversation degenerates into a heated exchange, with curses hurled in his face as you storm off in a storm of indignation. 

He's shattered your plants and disrupted your sleep on countless occasions, pushing the boundaries of your endurance. The cumulative weight of these relentless intrusions threatens to break the last thread of your patience.

You've descended to the point of desperation, resorting to hurling eggs at his windows in the dead of night. Sleep eludes you, haunted by the persistent echoes of his nocturnal escapades. His moans have become an indelible soundtrack, an unwelcome intrusion into your restless nights. Who keeps their window open when they have sex?

You reluctantly acknowledge the summer heat, considering the possibility of their sweltering encounters. The intrusive thought catches you off guard, and a wave of irritation washes over you. Why on earth are you dwelling on the intimate details of his encounters with his girlfriend?

In a surge of frustration, you realize it's high time to teach him a lesson in manners. Fueled by determination, you smash a few more eggs against his windows, each impact echoing your resolve for retribution.

Upon reentering your house, you find Jungkook awaiting your return. His exasperated greeting speaks volumes: “What have you done now?” he sighs, rolling his eyes at your seemingly perpetual antics.

“Just gave him back some of his own medicine,” you declare, the matter-of-fact tone underscoring your unapologetic stance. 

“You know, this is getting real close to vandalism. If you're into him, why not just knock on his door and jump his dick?” Jungkook's nonchalant shrug accompanies the pointed words, the blatant suggestion striking a nerve and hitting uncomfortably close to home. 

“As I've reiterated countless times, I do not like him, and I certainly do not want to fuck him,” you groan in exasperation.

“Yeah, sure,” he retorts with another eye roll, his tone carrying a hint of dejection and weariness, as if he's utterly exhausted from dealing with your antics.

The eagerly awaited new glass for your greenhouse has finally arrived, and to your surprise, Jungkook has generously offered to install it for you. Despite the restoration of your sanctuary, the scars on your beloved plants remain irreparable. Now, as you stand in your greenhouse, determined to breathe life into the space once more, you find solace in sowing new seedlings for the upcoming winter. 

The ritual begins as you carefully select seed packages, opting for spinach, bok choy, and broccoli, each choice bearing the promise of a fresh start.

With purposeful steps, you retrieve trays for the seedlings, the promise of renewal in your hands. Each tray is tenderly filled with fresh soil, receiving a gentle spray of water before the tiny seeds find their new home. Another layer of earth, a careful drizzle of water, and finally, a protective hood is laid over the tray. This makeshift greenhouse environment promises a nurturing haven for the sprouting seedlings as they await their moment on the greenhouse shelf. 

The creak of the greenhouse door signals Jungkook's entrance, and as he steps in, a cascade of words spills forth, “I had a chat with Namjoon,” he starts, his eyes sweeping across the lush foliage that envelops you.

Your gaze locks onto him, eyebrows raised in a quizzical arc. “Who is this ‘Namjoon’?”

“Our neighbor,” he declares with a matter-of-fact tone, and your jaw drops, seemingly unhinging itself and plummeting all the way to the ground. 

“Why are you fraternizing with the enemy?” you exclaim, delivering a playful slap to his shoulders. Why would he do such a thing?

“He’s actually really nice. You should go talk to him. Apologize.”

Jungkook suggests, and you find yourself dumbfounded by the words escaping his lips. Apologize? You? The incredulity echoes in your thoughts as you grapple with the absurdity of the idea.

“I won’t do anything of the sorts,” you huff, arms crossed in frustration, embodying a defiant stance reminiscent of a thwarted child denied a coveted desire.

“Ah, he's under the impression you're a mean bitch anyway,” he taunts, a derisive laugh escaping his lips, and you feel the surge of anger igniting within you. No, not in your cherished sanctuary. With conscious effort, you unclench your hands, previously balled up in frustration, determined to maintain the sanctity of your safe space. 

“He’s a jerk anyway, a stupid single dad who screws anything with a pair of nice tits,” you state, infusing your words with a palpable venom.

“That was actually his nephew. No kids for him. But those girls he brings home? They do happen to have some impressive assets,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips. A flicker of realization crosses your mind—Jungkook might be deliberately riling you up for amusement, and, begrudgingly, you acknowledge that his tactic is working. 

“Maybe you should go over there and have a threesome with him, huh?” you fume, the words laced with a hint of bitter sarcasm. Simultaneously, you find yourself seething not just at him, but at your own lapse for even entertaining such a thought. 

He just chuckles. “Damn, you've got it bad. I almost feel sorry for you,” he says, the laughter persisting and your blood simmering with an undercurrent of venomous rage.

It's finally a Friday, and you and Jungkook are settling in for a movie night. You've crafted the ideal dinner and laid out an enticing spread of snacks for later. Everything promises to be perfect and relaxing, except for one disruptive factor: your neighbor, Namjoon, relentlessly booming loud music through his speakers.

He's got friends over, and it seems like a full-blown BBQ is in swing. A row of cars lines the street beside his house, and the distant hum of lively chatter reaches even into the sanctity of your own home. The noise is unmistakable, almost intrusive, and you find yourself cursing silently. Yet, you're left with the bitter realization that complaining won't change a thing.

“We'll just crank up the TV volume even higher,” Jungkook nonchalantly suggests, a casual shrug of his shoulders betraying his indifference to the escalating noise outside.

You sulk, conceding to Jungkook's practicality. Yet, deep down, you ache for the serene days when Seokjin and his wife were your neighbors, their presence a stark contrast to the relentless clamor that now defines Namjoon's presence.

As you stir the contents of the sizzling wok, your culinary focus momentarily breaks. “I just hope he doesn't turn this into an all-night party,” you mutter with a tinge of irritation, your tone carrying a subtle edge of anger.

“You can't fault the guy for having friends over,” he asserts, retrieving glasses from the cabinets and setting the table, “Just because you don’t have any.”

You shoot him a disbelieving look, a frustrated huff escaping your lips. “I do have friends. They are just not that loud!”

He rolls his eyes at you, an amused chuckle escaping his lips like fleeting notes of laughter dancing in the air.

You scoff, shutting down the stove and placing the pan, still radiating warmth, on the table with a protective mat underneath.

“Do we have wine?” you inquire, and Jungkook nods, gesturing towards the fridge. Your appreciation swells for him, always ensuring there's a bottle of red wine chilling inside during summer. Somehow, it just adds a delightful touch to the flavor when it's served slightly chilled.

You return to the kitchen, swing open the fridge door, and snatch a bottle of wine. “Would you like some too, Gukkie?” you ask, extending the invitation to Jungkook.

“Yeah, sure. I can't let you go on a solo mission to finish the entire bottle. It's not good for you,” he playfully teases, a hint of truth in his words. You can't deny the tendency to turn a newly opened bottle into an empty one by the end of the night.

You snag a couple of wine glasses on your way back to the table, pouring a generous amount for both of you.

“Let’s eat,” you utter in a soft breath, gracefully pulling out your chair, the enticing aroma of your culinary creation making your mouth water.

“Yeah, I’m starving,” Jungkook declares, swiftly settling into his seat across from you, greedily reaching for the wok you've prepared, ready to dive into the feast.

“Aish, it’s so good,” he mumbles with delight, savoring each mouthful and punctuating his words between bites.

“Thank you. Living with a culinary genius has its perks, doesn't it?” you playfully muse back at him, a satisfied grin lighting up your face as you bask in the warmth of his compliment.

“You know I am,” he responds, taking a hearty gulp of his wine, and you follow suit. Despite the distant noise of your neighbor and his rowdy friends, you find solace in Jungkook's company, the laughter and friendship drowning out the chaotic soundtrack from across the fence.

Now that dinner is done, and you've migrated to the couch with your wine and an enticing spread of snacks, you ask, “What do you want to watch?” 

Jungkook chuckles eagerly, snatching the remote with a gleam in his eyes and declares, “Bring it on!” 

You playfully roll your eyes, teasing, “You just want to watch women in short skirts, you creep.”

You chuckle as Jungkook defends himself, insisting, “You know I watch it for the plot.” 

You shoot Jungkook a teasing look. “It better be the first one.”

“Of course. But the third one was also pretty good,” he says, triumphantly locating the first Bring it On movie.

Jungkook is inexplicably engrossed in Bring it On, and you can't quite decipher if it's for the skimpy outfits or the intricate choreographies, or perhaps a bit of both. 

Observing him playfully mimic the dance moves, even from the confines of the couch, makes you chuckle like a fool.

The echoes of your joy abruptly shatter, drowned out by a sudden, jarring noise from outside—a disconcerting symphony of splintering wood that startles you, leaving an unsettling air lingering in the room.

This can’t be good.

Dread tightens its grip as you hastily set down your wine glass, exchanging an apprehensive glance with Jungkook, who springs to his feet beside you. 

In tandem, you dash outside, propelled by a mixture of curiosity and concern, completely neglecting to grab your shoes in the urgency of the moment. The scorching heat beneath your bare feet goes unnoticed amidst the unfolding commotion though.

Your jaw plummets to the floor, a potent cocktail of shock and fury brewing within you as you absorb the unfolding spectacle before your eyes.

Namjoon, your neighbor, sprawled on his back—ON YOUR FENCE. It's a chaotic scene, with plants strewn about, the garden bed fractured, and soil spilling over, all within the wreckage of your once-pristine greens and veggies.

Your fists tighten as you stride toward Namjoon, his apologies echoing amid the laughter of his friends on his lawn, his clumsiness laid bare for all to witness.

Jungkook trails closely behind you, anticipating your next move. Yet, you remain silent, a brooding tension enveloping the air—a silence he recognizes as the precursor to something bad.

Fury courses through your veins, reaching its boiling point. Another act of destruction by your neighbor, and the question reverberates in your mind: Is this a deliberate vendetta against you? Jungkook tries to steady you, grabbing your arm, but you resist, pushing him away as your frustration simmers on the edge of eruption.

“You fucker!” 

Rage consumes you, and you unleash a guttural scream at your neighbor, still seated on the ground, taking stock of the havoc he's wreaked.

“I’m sor–” 

You halt his feeble attempt at an apology with a sharp interruption. “I've had enough of your apologies! Why is everything I own a target for your destruction?”

He meets your gaze with a hint of confusion, yet beneath the surface, a touch of melancholy lingers in his eyes.

Ignoring his apologies, your voice cuts through the air, demanding, “Enough with the apologies—just stop wrecking my things!”

Your voice reverberates with frustration, “Do you have some grudge against plants and nature? Is that it?” The rage within you intensifies as you survey the scene of dead plants and crops gone to waste. 

Jungkook's grip tightens on your arm, his voice soothing yet cautious, “Hey, take it easy. It was probably an accident.”

Namjoon's head bobs in agreement, “Yeah, it was. I'm truly sorry, and I'll repay you for what I’ve broken,” he starts, while a few of his friends extend a hand to help him up. However, the lingering laughter among some of his friends only adds fuel to your anger.

“That's the least you can do, you jerk!” you spit back at him. He meets your gaze with initially downcast eyes, his expression softening for a brief moment. However, it swiftly transforms into a hiss, and his eyes sharpen as he locks onto yours, a tension hanging in the air.

“Why can't you accept a simple apology?” he hisses at you. His voice remains calm, but beneath the surface, a tinge of anger adds a sharp edge to his words.

“Because I hate you! You're a fucking jerk!” you roar back at him, your voice filled with seething rage. Panting and huffing, your chest heaves with the intensity of your emotions.

“You're incredibly immature with all the name-calling. What have I ever done to you?” he retorts, his brows furrowed, eyes sharp as a blade. The tension between you becomes palpable, so thick it could be cut with a knife. Even his friends fall silent, and Jungkook takes a cautious step back.

You unclench your fists, pointing accusatorily at him. “You killed my plants!”

Fury consumes you, a torrent that drowns reason. It feels like an uncontrollable storm, not the result of too much wine, but a tempest of pure anger. Without thought, you lunge at Namjoon, an instinctual reaction to the destruction he's caused. Yet, Jungkook, swift and decisive, intercepts your wrath, restraining you. Your hisses of frustration echo against Jungkook's grip, a primal response to the injustice you're forced to endure.

Namjoon raises his hands in a defensive plea, “I'm so sorry, I’ll make it right. I’ll reimburse you for the damage,” he utters, cautiously retreating as if stepping on fragile ground.

As Jungkook pulls you away, you shoot a heated promise back at Namjoon, “I’ll find a way to make you pay for this!” Your words echo with resentment, leaving a lingering threat in the air, while Jungkook apologizes for the fiery display of your frustration.

Namjoon shoots you a puzzled and pained expression, clearly trying to decipher your veiled threat, while the whispers from his friends amplify around you, filled with phrases like ‘what a crazy bitch’ and ‘did she just threaten you?’

That’s it.

You've reached your breaking point. 

Namjoon has obliterated your plants, wrecked your greenhouse, trampled your garden beds, disrupted your sleep, and turned your once peaceful life into chaos. He's become a true menace, and it's time to impart a lesson he won't forget.

Fueled by anger, you snatch a screwdriver from Jungkook’s toolbox, its cold metal gripped tightly in your hand as you storm outside. The plan is simple: a flat tire for Namjoon, a lesson he won't soon forget. It's time to make him understand the consequences of messing with your life.

As chaos reigns within your mind, one crystal-clear resolution emerges from the tumult: Namjoon will pay for what he's done.

Jungkook’s voice echoes in your mind, a beacon of reason, yet you swiftly drown it out. Right now, you're not in the mood for rationality.

The stillness of the night embraces Namjoon's car, parked on his driveway. A rare moment of quiet settles around, a welcomed respite from the usual chaos. Maybe, just maybe, tonight you'll find solace in the arms of uninterrupted sleep.

Stealthily, you tiptoe up Namjoon's driveway, shrouded in the comforting cloak of darkness. Each careful step carries the weight of a clandestine mission, a secret endeavor hidden from prying eyes. This covert operation remains shrouded, a secret held close to your chest, shielded even from Jungkook, who would surely dissuade you from this path if he were privy to your foolish actions.

Despite a flicker of self-awareness that deems your actions petty and excessive, an unyielding surge of red-hot fury propels you forward. In this moment, reason takes a back seat, eclipsed by an insatiable desire for justice, consequences be damned.

As you crouch beside his sleek black SUV, a fleeting moment of uncertainty flits through your mind. The vehicle, undeniably stylish, momentarily gives you pause. Is this truly a sound decision? A twinge of guilt tickles your conscience — breaking his property, a dance on the edge of retribution. 

Yet, the echo of shattered greenhouse glass and ruined plants resounds, emboldening your resolve. In your mind, it's a retaliation justified by his transgressions against your cherished possessions.

The rage within you surges, and the screwdriver in your hand feels like an extension of your fury. Your knuckles whiten as you pull back your arm, poised to plunge the tool into the rubber of his car's tire. 

“What do you think you're doing?” 

Your hand freezes midway in the air, the screwdriver poised for revenge. As you turn your head, you're met with Namjoon's stern gaze, his silhouette emerging from the shadows of his porch.

Fuck. fuck. Fuck. You’ve been caught. 

Dread floods your senses. The fiery heat in your veins extinguishes, replaced by an icy chill, as if the harsh grip of winter has suddenly settled in your bones. In this moment, the realization hits hard – you've been caught, and the expletives echo in your mind like an ominous drumbeat.

He draws near, towering above you. His height, unnoticed until now, commands attention. Full eyelashes frame his gaze, and his dark hazel eyes pierce through you with the same sharp intensity as earlier tonight, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine.

“I asked you a question.” 

Your momentary lapse into obvious distraction snaps to an end. You retract your hand along with the screwdriver, rising slowly and deftly slipping it into your pocket.

“I was about to teach you a lesson,” you declare with unwavering confidence, standing before him. Your resolve remains unshaken, observing the visible frustration settling on his face.

“Teach me a lesson?” he counters, his calm demeanor barely concealing the underlying hint of anger etched across his features. Yet, his composure remains intact, a stark contrast to your own unbridled intensity.

“Yeah, you broke all my stuff. Now I’m breaking yours,” you retort, a nonchalant shrug accompanying your words as if it's a matter of common sense, downplaying the gravity of your retaliatory actions.

His laughter catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily uncertain about how to respond.

“Are you the mastermind behind the glued mailbox?” he chuckles, and though confusion paints your expression, you nod in acknowledgment.

“The eggs too?” he inquires, a forced smile gracing his face. Despite his attractive features, it's hard to overlook the fact that he's a complete jerk.

You nod, acutely aware of the significant height difference between you. His towering presence leaves you feeling uneasy, as if his stature alone holds a certain dominance over the situation.

He chuckles once more, and an unsettling chill races down your spine. “You really are a crazy bitch,” he remarks, his laughter carrying an undertone that sends shivers across your entire body.

You involuntarily recoil, the discomfort quickly replaced by a tidal surge of rage, sweeping through you like an unstoppable tsunami.

“What did you just call me?” you spit back at him, fists clenched at your sides. His calm demeanor and laughter only fuel your growing anger, leaving you frustrated and huffing with indignation.

“You heard me,” he clarifies, a reluctance to reiterate evident in his tone.

“What you're doing is also vandalism,” he begins, his calm tone belying a subtle threat, “and I could call the police for that.”

Your eyes widen as you grasp the weight of his words. The gravity of your actions finally hits you full force. You wouldn't want that, but you understand it's within his right to do so.

“You vandalized my stuff first,” you retort, the edges of your anger slowly dissipating. Crossing your arms under your breasts, you draw his attention, his gaze lingering for a moment before he takes a deep inhale, as if contemplating his next move.

“You navigate through life like a child. Did your parents forget to teach you some manners?” He shakes his head, exhaling, and a subtle relaxation sweeps across his features. Then, with an audible inhale, he seems to brace for your response.

“I didn't vandalize your stuff. It was an accident. What you're doing is no accident. It's with intent and purpose,” he clarifies for you, his tone calm, sending chills down your spine. It dawns on you. He's right. You did intentionally break and ruin his stuff, while all he did was perhaps be clumsy.

“See the difference?” he questions, taking in your form. Your shoulders sink down, and you exhale as if the weight of guilt has settled on them.

Realization hits you like a ton of bricks. You do see the difference. You've been so foolish, consumed by the desire for revenge. Now, as the gravity of your actions sets in, you fully understand if he decides to involve the police. Shit.

“I'm so sorry. The anger just consumed me. You destroyed my plants, and I…” Your voice trembles as tears threaten to spill over. You sniff, desperately trying to hold back the flood of emotions.

“I totally understand if you want to involve the police. No more petty shit from me,” a wave of regret and shame washes over you. Your body trembles, and the first tear betrays your composure. As you quiver, you bite your lower lip, tasting the metallic tang of remorse.

You step back from Namjoon, your voice filled with remorse, “I'm truly sorry, Namjoon.”

Before you pivot away, you observe him, the epitome of cool, calm and collected, yet beneath that veneer, a hint of sorrow tinges his expression – what could be the source of his melancholy?

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I appreciate every like, comment and reblog, and please don’t be afraid to let me know what you think;  your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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[translationandbetrayals]

Junji Ito: How daily life can be horrifying.

“I am a horror maniac who prefers to stay at home.”

---

There is a world far beyond our imagination that only answers to those that willingly decide to travel within it. A world filled to the brim with grim, dark life. A world where the laws of logic, of the rational part of humanity, are buried deep within. This is the world known as the “Horror” genre, and it has been explored by many in its different shapes and forms. From the fear of the unknown and what it conveys to us within our lives, to the narrations of fictional crimes that go against our very own essence as human beings, authors have always posed the question “What if”. A “What if” that was always answered through the painting of our deepest fears in the shape of ink-black words. Later on, the genre morphed into the shape of films, comics, and even grim paintings with different purposes in mind. Nonetheless, all of these forms that authors have decided to mold horror into are always based within their own cultures, nationalities, myths and legends that they have learned as tales of warning in their youth. Tales of warning, of course, as well as their own profound interpretations of their very own fears.

Few, no matter, have managed to catch the spontaneous nature of horror through words, or rather, in images. The fact that the point of climax, of maximum conflict and tension in every written narrative never directly impacts the reader is rather lacking, and that is where images have come into play, compensating the role of the reader as an “spectator” with the role of the protagonist in these stories… But even then, the fact that we are the protagonists in these images, either moving or unmoving, takes us away from the grand scheme of things into a linear story that involves us, and only us. The rivalry between these two methods of communicating a story has always been present, and it can affect the spontaneous, thrilling, yet deep nature of the imagery that the authors have given us to work with. 

Junji Ito, born in 1963’s Japan within the city of Gifu, is a particular example of how the aforementioned rivalry can become an advantage for an author when merged together and given, within vague imaginative parameters, to the readers that are immersing themselves in his fictional world and interpretation of what horror should be. Ito’s medium of creating is through Manga, and with it comes many different types of problems, however, Ito manages to solve them while still hitting the target when it comes to evoking certain emotions in the reader’s mind. Ito, as seen throughout his works, never directly involves the reader into his narrative, but he does involve them into his imagery. By all means, Ito’s stories are always seen by us, a complete all-knowing outsider to the conflicts that begin brewing within this grim, gruesome version of Japan that he has created. However, and in some way, he mixes the medium with the narrative, giving us a type of impact that purely written stories struggle to achieve in their development. 

Ito’s work, as witnessed in Hellstar Remina, Uzumaki and No Longer Human, might be the best bets to find how this formula works in and out of itself. The formula, of course, being the usage of everyday imagery, mutated and deformed into the concept of horror itself. For example, in Uzumaki, everyday objects are infected by a kind of primordial spiral shape that seems to haunt the town the protagonist lives in, giving us, the readers, the chance to witness the fall and discoveries belonging to how deep the rabbit hole goes. In Hellstar Remina, it’s not the everyday objects, rather the everyday attitudes that are presented in disarray. Ito explores a rather interesting take on how we view horror, not making it necessarily otherworldly or foreign, rather making it more akin to an altered version of normal life being forcefully introduced into the lives of both the characters, and even our lives as a matter of fact.

Perhaps even more impactful is that one of his most powerful works that follows the aforementioned formula is an illustrated diary of the author and his cats. Junji Ito's Cat Diary: Yon & Mu follows the everyday life of Ito, and the most unnerving and eerie feelings that emanate from it come from the distortion of what is defined as “normal”.

This is what makes Ito’s horror unique. He plays with our perception of objects, people, games and even childhood memories and problems. He toys with them, and corrupts them through paper and ink. This is why I think Ito’s horror is so impactful, and why you should read it as well.

- Agustín Azolas.

[1kook]

ZOOM CALL

⇢ meeting two

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

⇢ series masterlist

summary: Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group. genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba) warnings: ITS A SLOW BURN OKAY...., sweetheart jk, campus crush jk, college crushes, social distancing, zoom -_-, jk owns a keroppi plush, oc thirsts over his hot bod, jk’s sweet attempts at flirting </3 he’s just 2 cute for his own good ratings: e for everyone <3 wc: 3.7k

notes: this took long bc i wrote one version but it was SO LAME u guys r lucky my friend and editor ( @kigurumu​ 🖤 ) stopped me from posting it. so then i had to reorganize my thoughts n b like girl. the ppl are waiting. get it together. anyway here’s zoom jk 😎

Being grouped with Jeon Jungkook (he/him) for your first class on the first day of your first Zoom semester truly sets the standard.

By no means do your other classes suck; they’re quite enjoyable, more relevant to your area of study. They’re familiar which makes them comfortable, your Zoom meetings filled with faces you’ve seen time and time again the last four years. The material interests you, so you definitely don’t have anything against them or your classmates. 

That being said, no one is prepared for the awkwardness that comes with each and every Zoom meeting. You never thought you’d be embarrassed to turn your mic on— to speak in a class filled with your peers. And the meetings are all like that, filled with uncomfortable silences and endless black screens. 

You wish there was a Jeon Jungkook (he/him) in every class. 

Jungkook’s just got this bubbly aura to him, this magnetic presence that staples itself into the back of your mind with each passing day. No one fills a Zoom call like he does, making every person laugh and smile like him. 

Wednesday rolls around and you find yourself a little disheartened when you don’t get sorted into the same randomized group as him again. Disappointment melts into annoyance when you find out how incompetent your other classmates are, refusing to speak in the small group or just completely clocking out all together. A lot of them didn’t do the reading— the one you stayed up all night doing —and your first partnered assignment of the semester finds you doing it all by yourself. Muted mics, black windows, complete radio silence; you hated it all. 

You find yourself weirdly longing for Jeon Jungkook’s presence, even if he’s only there to talk about some movie he saw last night. No one is as much of a chatterbox as him, can’t even hold a candle to the way he draws everyone in with his mindless conversations. At least he speaks during Breakout Rooms, you think bitterly. 

Anyway, the first week of classes ends and your brain is a frenzied mess. There’s schedules to memorize, professors to impress, assignments to plan out. There’s definitely no time to sit around and fantasize about the curly haired cutie in one of your general classes. The weekend is spent trying to organize your planner, filling in due dates and exam days ahead of time. It’s your last semester and you’re dead set on making it your best one yet. There’s a lot of written work this time around, analyses and research papers that need to be organized. The road ahead is manageable, but you’ll have to work hard to keep it that way for the next five months. 

Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group.

Jungkook is early this time, not like on Monday where he’d been one of the last to filter in, and he’s looking as chirpy as ever. Donning this horrendously hot pink shirt, completely unlike the neutral tones he’d worn during your last two meetings and that decorate his room, and the cutest pair of circle glasses sitting on his nose. He says his regularly scheduled ‘good morning’ to you all and receives a collective response from the rest of the class that not even your professor got. 

Speaking of the professor, you’ve been giving him the stink eye this whole time. Not that he can tell, given the fact he’s probably miles away in his own home while you angrily glare at him through your webcam. It’s this old guy who’s decided to sort you all into semester long groups for the class, which is the absolute worst. These types of groups always go the same way: you make a group chat promising to study together, those plans fall through, and then everyone just leeches off of each other for homework answers. And in most cases, it’s you handing over your homework answers because no one else ever bothers to do anything. Sadly, it’s a routine you’ve had to suffer through many times in your academic career. 

The thought makes you sick. Having to spend another semester being labeled as the bossy, nerdy dictator of the group? Not exactly how you wanted to spend the last few months of college, but there’s nothing you can do. Maybe this time around you’ll just let it be, won’t fight it (and by it, you mean your lazy classmates when they inevitably try to guilt trip you for homework) and simply let it run its course. 

“I’m going to put you guys into Breakout Rooms with your new groups!” your professor claps excitedly, and then you and the rest of your classmates are forced to watch him lean too close to the camera as he begins clicking around to find the preset groups he’s assigned the class. “Remember, guys, this is it for the rest of the semester. So if something isn’t right, let me know by the end of today.” 

Man, this was going to suck, you groan. The syllabus had said that the purpose of these groups was to keep you all connected with your classmates during these trying times, to give you the same opportunities in-person learning would. Frankly, you’re not too worried about making friends with everyone in this large class. Most of them are younger than you anyway, save for Jeon Jungkook (he/him) and a handful of others who are apparently in your year. Befriending lowerclassmen only to have to bid them adieu in a few months seems awfully sad, a little too heartbreaking. You really just want to get a good grade in this class, collect the last of your credits, and put this whole college experience behind you. 

Your thoughts are wrapped up by the pop-up message that appears on screen. 

The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 12

You sigh, contemplate dropping this class for all of two seconds, before dutifully accepting the request. Worse comes to worst, you make up some lie to tell your professor that you’re allergic to group work and hope it works. (It won’t.) 

You sit through the mandatory loading screen for a few seconds before being abruptly dumped into your new room, Group 12, or so the message had said. There’s no one else here yet, which isn’t really a surprise. A lot of your classmates are probably like you, scowling at the pop up message every time your professor sends you into small groups before accepting the request. So you chill by yourself, eyes tracing over your own mirrored image. The notes on last night’s reading are neatly laid out before you, your copy of the book off to the side. 

Another beat and then, much to your surprise, Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is appearing in your room. “Oh,” he says, round eyes magnified by the thick lens of his glasses, the glare of the computer’s glow casting a funny shape across the lens that momentarily robs you of his pretty eyes. His pretty pink lips stretch into a smile, upper lip thinning out a bit when he flashes you those perfect teeth. “Hi, __,” he greets politely, bubbly. 

It’s embarrassing how much his presence affects you, your back going ramrod straight in a terrible attempt to compose yourself. “Hi, Jungkook,” you manage to get out, fingers nervously reaching for something, anything, to ground yourself. They land on a pencil. 

Jungkook doesn’t seem even the slightest bit aware of the commotion he causes within you. “I was really nervous for these groups,” he begins rambling right away, lips pushing down into an exaggerated frown as he shivers at the memory. “But I’m glad I got placed with someone hardworking like you!”

Despite how sweet he sounds, you’re not entirely sure if he’s buttering you up just to take advantage of your ‘hardworking’ attitude later down the road or if he’s genuinely being polite. The little information you know about Jungkook wants you to believe it is the latter; he’s very kind, sweet and nice in a way that makes everyone he speaks to feel warm. Still, for all you know this could be some elaborate ruse of his to make you trust him now and then convince you to do all the work for the rest of the semester. 

Tentatively, you ask, “and how would you know that?” You try your best to keep your usual snappiness out of your voice, pose it simply out of curiosity. But everything you say or do feels like a stark contrast to Jungkook and his bubbliness. 

His head tilts cutely to the side, imploring brown eyes looking at you for one hard second. And then, “I read your forum analysis from Wednesday,” he admits, breaking into a smile. Shy and tiny, bashfully looking down at his desk. “I thought your perspective on the piece was really interesting,” he says, lips pursing together as if he’s suddenly too embarrassed to admit such things to you. 

Stunned, all you can manage is one slow nod. “Thank you,” you eventually choke out, trying to ward the heat away from your cheeks as Jungkook sheepishly nods back, cute smile still on his face. 

“Oh, please,” he chuckles, raising his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Don’t thank me!” 

It is in this exact moment that you are suddenly made aware of two things. 

One: despite his collection of soft sweaters and t-shirts, his bouncy curls and sweet smile, Jeon Jungkook’s body is neither as cute nor as soft as any of his belongings. In fact, Jeon Jungkook’s body is all hard planes and prominent veins. Arms beefy, biceps that bulge beneath the fabric of the short sleeve t-shirt he’s donned today. His shoulders fill out the material nicely, making him look broad and huge, but that’s not even the worst part, because—

—two: Jeon Jungkook is covered in ink. Dark streaks and swirls paint his forearms, curling around his elbow. Every inch of his pale skin is littered with tiny designs. They dance along the back of his hands, over his knuckles, and end at an unidentifiable point beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. When he tugs at the neckline of his shirt in an effort to readjust it, you hope your eyes are deceiving you and that isn’t a hint of ink by his collarbone. 

Your normal composure seems to slip away at the mere thought. 

It’s Jungkook’s voice that brings you back, a soft timbre that asks, “aren’t we supposed to have someone else in our group?” You flinch as if you’ve been caught ogling him, never mind the fact he’s started mindlessly shuffling some papers around on his desk, not the slightest bit concerned with you. 

“Oh— um, yes. I think,” you stammer, feeling like some creep for ogling your very cute, very sweet classmate. The memory of his inky skin nearly sends a shiver down your spine as you navigate back to the class syllabus. “We’re supposed to have at least three people,” you read off, glancing at the boy on your screen who frowns at the news. 

“Do you think they dropped?” Given it was still only the first week of school, probably. There had been a fewer number of people in the call when it started, you remembered. Jungkook sighs, this rather light sound that ends in a hum. “Well, we can always wait a few minutes just in case.”

So you wait, nervously bouncing your leg up and down. It’s not awkward, or at least, not as awkward as it would be with anyone else. The other week you had silently sat with another classmate in a one-on-one discussion and hadn’t uttered a word for five minutes. It wasn’t because you didn’t care about the class, but because said classmate had been tapping away on their phone the entire time and hadn’t even responded to your simple greeting. That was awkward. 

With Jungkook it’s more weird than awkward. You can tell the silence makes him uncomfortable because he keeps doing these tiny inhales like he’s about to speak, followed by a little head shake where he seemingly stops himself from saying anything at all. He wants to talk, very badly it seems, but holds back for some odd reason. 

He’s scribbling on some sheet of paper, leaning forward to give you a view of the top of his head. From this angle, his shirt hangs forward and a silver necklace falls out from beneath the neckline, thuds against the table. And then your suspicions are nearly confirmed, and oh god, is that a chest piece—

You quickly look away. 

Robbed of his handsome face and feeling like you’ll die if you look at his body any longer, you settle for your newly acquired favorite pastime: inspecting your classmates’ rooms over Zoom. Yes, you’ll admit it is incredibly nosy, but what else can you do? You can only look at your professor for so long until you inevitably grow bored, attention drifting off to your classmates tiny windows. And with no professor in sight, just gorgeous Jeon Jungkook, you quickly begin your examination of his bedroom. 

Jungkook’s room is pretty much the same as you remember it, rather neat and plain. There’s not a lot going on in terms of decoration, which is a little surprising to say the least. Over the course of the week, you’ve watched your classmates’ dormitories and bedrooms gradually change, decorations and tapestries decorating the walls, mountains of pillows added to their beds. It’s only natural that everyone has an innate need to show off who they are now more than ever, and you thought Jungkook would be the same. 

Apparently not. 

Aside from the guitar you had spotted on Monday, his little dorm room remains unchanged. Blank walls, grayscale sheets. The same perfectly fluffed pillows and then—

A tiny Keroppi plush smack dab in the middle of his bed. 

It’s adorable but a little out of place amongst Jungkook’s rather masculine decorations (or lack thereof). A tiny green doll sitting by his pillows, cute striped shirt and ridiculously dopey smile. 

Leaning forward, you unmute yourself and conversationally say, “I love your Keroppi.” 

At the sudden sound of your voice, Jungkook abruptly straightens up, glasses practically at the very tip of his nose. Eyes wide, it takes him a second to process your words before jerkily whipping around to stare at the aforementioned item. “Oh,” he jumps, slowly looking at his screen again, lips pulled into a tight line. “Um… it’s not mi—“

“It’s adorable,” you add, propping your chin in your palm, absolutely endeared with the rosy color that paints his cheeks, fades down the column of his neck. 

He squirms, hurriedly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He looks like he’ll deny it again, nervously nibbling at his lower lip, before eventually he settles with a sigh. “I won it from a crane machine,” he confesses with a sheepish huff of laughter, rolling backwards to the edge of his bed to snatch it from its spot. 

(Of course he manspreads as he sits, dark jeans hugging his thighs as he rolls back your way. His arm looks so strong, covered in all that ink, you nearly drool.)

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” he says, abandoning his embarrassment as he shakes the little figure around, makes it look like it’s dancing for you. “My mom said it looks like me.”

At that, you laugh. Loud and boisterous because you were definitely not expecting Jungkook to say that, such an odd but weirdly fitting comparison that has you looking at the doll in his hands with renewed interest. And through the pixelated screen, you can see the similarities: Jungkook does have the same smile as Keroppi. 

“Your mom was right,” you agree, wiping a faux tear from the corner of your eye. “Very cute.” 

Jungkook’s got this big goofy smile on, shaking his head in disbelief that you would ever dare agree with his mom. Like he’s genuinely enjoying himself, you think, oddly proud to have evoked that reaction from him. Granted, Jungkook always looks like he’s pretty happy during class, but it feels nice knowing that you were (confirmed) the reason why.  

A little caught up with the bumbling feeling in your chest, you’re not expecting his next words. “Does that mean I’m cute?” he asks, still with that same dopey smile on his face. 

It’s a bold statement you wouldn’t have expected from him, someone who seems content being the world’s friend, but apparently Jeon Jungkook also craves compliments. 

Slowly, you nod. “...yes,” you say, trying to keep the tumultuous emotions inside of you at bay while you grant him this one compliment. Outwardly, you give him what you hope is an obviously feigned look of disbelief, managing to lace it with a little amusement as you shake your head at his inquiry. On the inside, your mind and heart are a thundering racetrack, the roar of the engines and the screams of the crowd enough to momentarily make you lose your senses. “Very cute,” you repeat, hoping he can’t hear the same pounding of your heartbeat in your throat and in your ears as you do. “Like a little frog.” 

Jungkook graces your robotic response with the most boyish laugh, head tossed back as one loud cackle (because, really, there is no other way to describe the sound that tears itself from his throat) escapes him, curls bouncing back from the movement. “Cute like a frog,” he wheezes, seemingly to himself as he shakes his head with a grin, scooting closer to the camera again. “That’s a new one.” 

“You set yourself up for it,” you defend, busying yourself with the papers spread out in front of you before Jungkook can distract you any further. “Anyway!” you announce, neatly lining the papers up. “Our group.”

Jungkook does his best to wipe the glee off his face, but even as he reaches around for his things, it’s still there. “Right,” he agrees, “we have to, um—“ a huff of laughter “—group contract! Or, well, partner project.”

Briefly, you consider calling in your professor to inform him of your missing partner. He had said to let him know by the end of today if something was wrong. But, honestly, you didn’t see a problem with your group the way it was now. While you can only hope he’ll turn out to be as dedicated to his work as you, as it stands now, there weren’t any major red flags surrounding Jungkook’s character. 

Besides, you didn’t mind being with him for the rest of the semester. 

You nod, forcing yourself to ignore the glimmer in his eyes when he looks at you through the screen. “I think it’s safe to say it’ll just be the two of us, which I don’t mind,” you say, glancing at the time on the corner of your screen to see five minutes have passed since you agreed to wait. “Do you?”

On screen, Jungkook profusely shakes his head, curls bouncing all over the place. “Nope,” he hums. “I don’t mind at all,” he reassures you, resting his chin in his palm as he regards you, and then sweetly adds, “it’ll be nice with just us, __.”

Right. 

You gulp, heart fluttering at the dreaminess he exudes through your screen, the soft strand of hair that falls over his forehead, tickles his brow bone when he flashes you another smile.  He was so handsome. Before you say anything silly, you quickly attempt to move on. “But it does make us more of a duo than a group.” 

Jungkook looks away from his screen for the first time in what feels like forever and you finally let your heart rest for a second. “A duo,” he murmurs, shuffling through his papers. “Like Mickey and Minnie?” 

You nearly choke on your spit, coughing to hide the surprise from his rather cute suggestion. He’s not even looking at you, doesn’t even realize the absolute shock he’s thrown you in by comparing the two of you to one of the most famous couples— that’s what they are, a goddamn couple, not a duo! the words mean two completely different things! —in the world. Instead, Jungkook is humming the theme song to Drake & Josh. 

This man was dangerous for your heart. 

After having felt all the emotions in the world in the span of ten seconds, you eventually gather the courage to say, “sure,” and quickly try to move the conversation along. “We just need to, um, make some ground rules and responsibilities for us to follow.” 

Jungkook nods, finally glancing up again, but not at you. He’s glaring at some point behind his computer, brows furrowed together as he begins brainstorming on his own. You try to, really, but his lips pout adorably when he’s deep in thought, and they’re just so pink and look so soft and would feel like—

“Well, we should probably exchange numbers first,” Jungkook says, interrupting your spiraling thoughts with a new topic to spiral over. He tilts his head to the side, brown eyes focused on you. 

“Yes, of course,” you stammer, fumbling for your phone as Jungkook lets out a soft yay at your acceptance of his request. Quickly, he recites his number and you type it in with trembling hands into the number pad, giving him a quick call so he can have your number as well. 

You save him right away, just his name followed by the class you share with him. Not like you know any other Jeon Jungkooks, and if you did, you doubt anyone could ever leave such an impact like this Jeon Jungkook. 

“__, look,” Jungkook calls, that same excitement lacing his already lovely voice, and you raise your head up at the screen again. He’s waving his phone over his camera, so you don’t get to see his face when he says, “It’s a little mouse emoji and a pink bow— just like Minnie!”

Dangerous for your heart and, most likely, the death of you this semester.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[enjennie]

right here

pairing: jeno x reader

synopsis: lee jeno just wanted to help you with the choreography, but now you can't stop wondering if his lips still feel the same as it did five years ago.

genre: fluff, idol!jeno and idol!reader, mutual pining.

word count: 1.1k

warnings: purposely written in low caps

a/n: this is the part 2 of my first and last. haha enjoy! read part 1 here

your heels sounded against the floor as you strutted around the room, inspecting yourself closely in the mirror. something felt wrong, something is definitely missing. your performance is lacking, and with only one day– or night for that matter, to prepare... you're getting a bit stressed.

your members had clocked off about an hour ago to get their well deserved rest and yet here you are, stuck doing that one move you couldn't quite perfect like you wanted.

with one last wave of your hand and kick of the leg you fall to the floor dramatically. exhausted and frustrated, you are about to have a breakdown when you hear the door creak and your head turns in its direction almost instantly to see who'd caught you in an embarassing state. you hope it's just the security guard telling you to shoo off already.

instead, your eye meets those of a familiar someone's. jeno is in his track pants and red hoodie with his duffel bag swung lazily around his broad shoulders and he's smiling at you.

"hey," you say before getting on your feet quickly to fix yourself up a little. it's been a while since you've seen him, let alone talk to him. korea's beloved idol with the crescent eyes, lee jeno, has charmed everyone since his debut and since then has only gotten increasingly popular. you wonder if he remembers your first kiss. to you, it was as clear as day.

"preparing for the music festival tomorrow?" he states the obvious, walking in before plopping his bag down on the floor. you merely nod, reaching your phone to pause the music that was playing. "yeah i can't seem to get it right,"

jeno looks around, seeing that the only bag belonged to you which meant you've probably been alone for some time now.

"can i see? i could give you some pointers," he walks closer to you, smiling sheepishly. you laugh, tucking a strand of hair that had gone loose behind your ear. "yeah? i don't think so, jeno. performance is a secret until tomorrow," you playfully poke his chest, a habit you somehow still carried with you since you were trainees. his chest is harder than you remember, though. it has you growing flustered and retreating your hands to play with their own.

"then just the parts you're not sure of," he meddles and who are you to say no when he's smiling at you so sweetly? images of when you were younger come flashing in your brain automatically takes you back to the first kiss. it was in a different room, but the same building. first kiss. as if there's ever been a second. (newsflash: there hasn't and you weren't exactly against going for one). for old times sake?

you move without a word, and jeno watches you intently as you carry out the moves with such grace he wondered to himself what the hell you were talking about.

"that was perfect, though," he raises his eyebrow once you finish, confused and ultimately amazed.

you groan, getting on your feet and shaking your head. jeno could see the frustration seeping through and he couldn't blame you. he's one to talk about over working, when he does so himself.

he draws closer to you, trying out the movements himself. "maybe you could extend your arm out more in this part," he directs and you're quick to mimic his actions but it doesn't seem right. jeno's eyes avert to your form through the mirror and shakes his head patiently.

"like this," he places a gentle hand on your waist before putting your arms in place. your heart rate quickens at the sudden space between you both. you can already feel the warmth from his hoodie on your backside and the hand that holds your waist lingers for a second longer before he realizes it too.

the air becomes tense, an unexplainable vibe between the both of you arise and it's something you haven't felt since the moment you both pulled away from the kiss.

"so, like this?"

in your poor attempt at clearing the air, you move your arms again and turn to execute the dance only for you to get tangled in his arms which only constricts the space between you both. great. now you're facing him, and you feel his breath fanning over your face before it hitches in his throat.

jeno breaks out into a grin, chuckling lightly. "i think I'm getting deja vu ,"

he let's you go, and you're almost disappointed to be free from his arms. you wanted to be engulfed in them again almost instantly.

"they say that when you get deja vu, you're exactly where you're supposed to be," you state, just sharing the random fact you have tucked in your brain. jeno looks down at you, an unreadable expression on his face.

"so i'm meant to have you in my arms like this?" jeno wraps his arms around you again, pulling you close to his chest and knocking the wind out of yours.

"lee jeno, are you flirting with me right now?" the sudden confidence was... well, sudden and came out of nowhere. but your heart is going into overdrive and air is needed in your system so you make yourself take a slow breath.

his eyes crinkle when he smiles, face inching closer that you almost want to scream. "would it be so bad if i was?"

no. not at all.

at this point he's so close to you that you can smell the mint gum he'd been chewing, and the cologne he uses. you wanted to close the space between you so bad already, but you were still in his grip.

jeno moves his face closer, before a voice booms from outside the room and has you both pulling apart. it's the security guard, and he's come to throw you out the building. great timing.

"we'll be right out," jeno calls, and that's when you notice how red his ears had gotten.

the both of you rush out of the practice room with no other words other than 'close the lights please' and 'don't forget your phone'. and nothing could have prepared you for the awkward elevator ride down.

the numbers flickered from 3, 2, 1 to G and you both step out.

so is no one going to talk about how you both just almost recreated something that happened five years ago or? no? okay.

"i'll see you tomorrow?" jeno extends a hand out to you. is he about to dap you up? you stare at the hand in confusion before giving it a shake. you've never been more confused in your life.

"yeah," you manage to spit out. he gives your hair a ruffle before turning to head towards the exit. he hasn't done that in a while, and the gesture makes all the blood rush to your head and ears.

great. what was the move again? now you'd have two things on your mind: that stupid choreography and lee jeno.

as you watch his figure disappear into the exit, the boy hangs his head low and mentally curses himself for being a coward and not going for the kiss when he had the chance. you heave a deep sigh, before go on your own way.

part 3 - coming soon.

[ephemerlskies]

constant craving | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader

⇢ genre: drabble series, angst, unrequited love, idiot!jungkook, idiot!oc, basically everyone's an idiot

⇢ word count: 1.7k

⇢ warnings: unreciprocated pining, explicit language, themes of hopeless romanticism (!!), (slightly) unedited

⇢ summary: your best friend decided to confide in his best friend on how to win his girlfriend back after a fight. you tell him exactly what to say to her, however he is unaware that what you were saying was a sincere delivery of your once undeclared love.

♪ playlist: constant craving - k.d. lang, bad religion - frank ocean, misunderstood - lucky daye, neu roses - daniel caesar ♪

╰ series index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 (final)

a/n: hello my little loves!! this was definitely ;) not ;) an impulse write and release ;) ;) sorry for being so inactive lately. i've been focusing on myself (i know how cliche that sounds but it's true). anyway, enjoy this incredibly angsts fic i wrote at 2 am for absolutely no reason at all other than i'm an emotional sadist and a masochist. love u!!!! <3

part one: control

He was coming over for the third time this week. Third time. Three times is two more times than he'd gone over his girlfriend's house, but you did everything in your power to convince your inconvincible heart that it meant nothing. Friends see each other more than their girlfriends, right?

It was making a racket in your chest, that muscle that strained much harder for a man who had his pumping for the girl of his dreams.

But, he was coming over for the third time this week.

The first time he said this visit ranked, in his words, 'out of the question' on the degree of necessary that he come over and show you Star Wars. You played a good game of reluctance when asking if it was the entire series or just one movie, and in your head, you hoped to God it was the entire series. For him, you'd watch the series four times over if it meant you sat through this outrageously nerdy movie next to the even more outrageously nerdy love of your life.

The second time was particularly funny to you. He called while you were cooking dinner, almost as if he was in stride with you in a way that was an ounce too synchronized to be platonic, and asked if you were whipping up a delicious meal that he could mooch off of. Knowing he was a terrible cook, plus the fact that when he begged so politely you felt your posture unbind into to a puddle, you more than happily obliged.

This time, the circumstances made it harder to say yes, but not yet impossible. And it was a second or two before you heard that knock on the front door that had your once pounding heart come to a complete halt. It was still, waiting for you to make a decision.

Since it was Jungkook, of course, you'd say yes. And your heart would continue beating. Beating, as in sending sharp jabs that stained the inside of your chest with bruises. Beating, as in when the time came, the final blow of your constantly craving heart would devastate your entire being.

"Thank you so much, ___. God, I'm such an idiot." He walked in with all the confidence of someone who was a bit too familiar with your company. Jungkook's feet reintroducing themselves to your floors in the same manner as he would the night before, and the night before that, and the countless nights you kept secured in your collection of memories. As if he belonged there; as if he was coming home.

"An idiot with a great friend." That last word nearly withdrew the bile you had been ever so gracefully holding in.

"Yeah yeah." And he was comfortable with that same word, 'friend', that deepened your bruises into scars. He had absolutely no clue. Idiot. "I can't believe I broke up with her. I was so angry and acted on that instead of logic. Fuck, why would I do that to myself? I love her."

"Well, you never know. Maybe..." You hated yourself for not resisting the selfish temptation that was about to fall from your lips. The words you've been internally screaming to him to leave her and fall in love with you instead were diluted to something much more tame when your tongue formed them into sound.

"Maybe it was for the best. Maybe you guys are better off apart? To, um, grow or whatever."

"No." He said that with too much certainty and too little hesitance and just enough conviction to sink another wound in the organ exhausting itself in your chest. "She's the one. I know it"

"Jungkook."

He looked at you with all the earnestness of a man who carved his utmost and unchanging dedication to her. A look that any love-induced sap would kill for. A look he would never direct towards you.

Your eyes weren't under your control as of now. The glue that held them to his eyes, his lips, his hair, and every other part of him you dreamed of was more than a marathoned yearning. It was an adhesive twelve years in the making, not showing the slightest sign of wearing away.

"The way you love is something to die for..." And then he smiled at you, but still not for you.

You were utterly crushed.

"She'll take you back in a heartbeat. I mean, she has a brain, so of course, she will. Anyone would."

I would.

"I hope you're right." The couch was four feet wide at most, but there was an impressively vast space between you and the man who was sitting next to you. "Can you tell me what to say? You know I suck with words."

"Uh... Yeah. Of course. Anything."

If breaking hearts were a crime, then Jungkook would have much to atone for. You'd be convicted as a willing accomplice for holding on this long. Up until this point, you've let every small glance, every shy smile he sent your way, every eyebrow twitch conveying a meaning only you knew well enough to retrieve him from whatever awkward situation he needed rescuing from, every accidentally brush of his hand against yours, every purposeful embrace that lasted so long your tears stained his right shoulder string you into a knot of miserable, unrequited love.

And up until this point, you had hope he would choose you.

Each ring of his phone worked in tandem to reduce your undying devotion to Jungkook into a compressed seed of denial.

I don't love him. He's just my best friend.

Your pulse pronounced itself loudly in your ears, as a not-so-gentle reminder of how much you hated him for loving him. Somehow, your heart beat faster. Then again, anything was possible when it came to him. Anything except the miraculous event of him hanging up, declaring his love for you, and living in the land of happily ever after that only existed in your deluded imagination.

"Hey Irene! I'm so fucking glad you picked up."

He gave you that look. With the arched eyebrow, his widened doe eyes, and the slightly hung jaw, you read each feature better than words and nodded to signal you knew exactly what he needed.

"I'm sorry about what happened." You said, in a whisper, though the deflated volume of your words carried no implication of the unbridled sincerity sealed in them.

"I'm sorry about what happened." He repeated, laying down that same Irene-contrived smile on you that fostered a smile of your own, knowing fully it surfaced as a reflex from hearing her voice.

"It might be crazy to try this, because I don't know how you feel."

If the thing people say about your life flashing before your eyes during encounters with death, then you were sure your heart was about to consume its last pulse of blood. The scenes of you and Jungkook spending your Friday nights when you were a ripe city dweller in your shoebox apartment doing everything and nothing at all had convinced you that you were certainly about to go into cardiac arrest.

"It might be crazy to say this, because I don't know how you feel." Jungkook was so many things, however emotionally perceptive was not one of them.

"But I love you. I have loved you since the moment I met you." Those words tasted sweet despite fermenting in a chamber of your heart you kept preserved since, as you said, the very moment you met him.

"But I love you. I have loved you since the moment I met you."

"No matter what, I'd choose you. It doesn't matter how mad I am or how annoyed I am, I will choose you because if I know anything in this damn, cruel, punishing world, then I know that I'd rather be angry, annoyed, or anything else with you than without you."

He repeated your words, but dehydrated all of your sentiment from them. You were left with the remnants of the feelings, and none of the words from him you were so desperately starved of. He took them right from your throat, along with the very breath that seemed to keep returning because of Jungkook, molded them into his own, into a sequence of sounds that were meant for Irene. You were left hungry, breathless, and forever wanting.

"No matter what, I'd choose you. It doesn't matter how mad I am or how annoyed I am, I will choose you because if I know anything in this damn, cruel, punishing world, then I know that I'd rather be angry, annoyed, or anything else with you than without you."

Irene must have been smiling right about now. Who wouldn't smile hearing those things from someone like Jungkook?

"Because with you, I'm complete. My story can't end if I'm incomplete. Please, choose me back. Complete me. That's all I ask."

Then, you began to ask yourself another question.

If you make me complete, Jungkook, will my story ever end?

You knew the answer to that. You swore your heart beat in a morse code that told you everything you needed to know.

"Because with you, I'm complete. My story can't end if I'm incomplete. Please, choose me back. Complete me. That's all I ask."

Jungkook looked to you, before Irene could form the proper response, and smiled. It was the third time he smiled at you today because of course, you were keeping track. You knew it was his own physically linguistic version of a 'thank you' or a 'you're a life saver' but somehow, to you, it translated to something similar to a 'goodbye'.

Your legs miraculously rose and carried you to the back porch. The sun was just beginning to dip in the horizon, proliferating a warm orange that was about to subside to an indistinguishable and unpredictable dusk. Whatever color came after the sunset, you were ready to accept it, to memorize how it reflected against a world without the possibility of him. And even though the night will always embody undertones of orange, it was time to focus on the colors around it.

It was time to let go.

a/n: i might make this into a drabble series!!! if anyone would be interested in that please let me know :)) thank you for readinggggg <3

[alilbihh]

woods&witches — knj

masterlist

pairing: namjoon x reader

summary: You think it ends with you saving a fox. That is, until you start getting love letters sent to your doorstep and little knick knacks left on your window sill.

genre: fox shifter!namjoon, witch!reader, fluff

words: 4.5k

a/n: this was meant for the bingo challenge but completely escaped its original prompt. anyway. heres shy!lovestruck!namjoon bc i love him. also no this is nOt a witch au blog idk whats wrong w me

A finch flutters onto your windowsill, and you shuffle over once you hear a tap, tap, tap on the glass. You push it open and the bird hops inside, beak leaning forward tentatively.

You take the letter. "Ah, so they sent you this time?" Or maybe the finch volunteered, you wouldn't be surprised. They are quite the gossips.

It's a soft blue envelope, and when you turn it over there's a scrawled #12 on the left side corner. You think that even if he hadn't written that, you'd know. It's easy to keep track, after all.

A maple leaf slips out when you open the envelope. You set it aside and tentatively take the letter, brush a hand over the ink. It was written by hand in messy but deliberate hand writing and it smells like chamomile and honey, like it was written under a half-moon.

You read it once then twice then three times until it feels like you've been dipped halfway underwater, until the buzzing of the midday cicadas has faded into white noise and everything is suddenly tinged blue.

The man, you deduced a while ago, tells tales of palm trees and blue ponds and red and pink frogs, of catching crabs on a stranded shore. He's writing poetry but he's not, writing reality but he's not, and you don't know how he does it, how he can make five paintings with just one phrase.

You clutch the letter to your chest, feel yourself have an out of body experience because of a not-poem. Your head whips towards the finch when it chirps suddenly, and you huff.

"Why're you still here?" You shield the letter from the bird's eyes. Its head tilts. "And don't give me that look, I know exactly what you're thinking."

The bird only gives another chirp before flying away.

You scoff out a laugh, and when you walk towards your bedside table, the drawer opens before you can even think too much about it. You glare at your walls before tucking the letter with the others, as if to stop the house from teasing you too much.

It all begins and ends on a sunny afternoon.

The tree roots whisper as you pass, as if to purposely lead you astray, but you follow them anyway. The forest is never wrong, after all.

So when you stumble against a snowy white fox lying on a field of wisteria, you're only a tad bit surprised.

"Ah, you don't want to do that," you say some time after it woke up in your home and stopped panicking. It's now looking down at your polka dot socks, then looks up sharply to stare at you. You don't think there's a way for foxes to show emotions, but you think that if there were, he'd be staring at you with a little bit of awe.

You clear your throat. "Your foot, I mean. You don't want to strain it."

It just keeps staring at you, one ear twitching a bit.

"Um." You say when it doesn't stop, "You'll be better in a few weeks time. It wasn't that serious."

The fox blink blink blinks before shaking itself off, fur spilling every which way. You take it as acknowledgement enough.

In a few minutes he's managed to sniff and inspect every piece of furniture in your home, ranging from your small couch to your droopy house plant. He trudges and limps and sometimes skips from place to place, and then becomes highly confused when you don't let him climb the kitchen table.

Yoongi appears on your window somewhere between the fox kneading at your rug and the fox trying to catch a moth with its mouth.

"Hey grump," you say to the black cat, scratching behind his ears. Yoongi's tail twitches in dismissal, but he whines when you stop petting him, anyway.

You can almost see when Yoongi's gaze settles on the fox, because when you turn to look he's frozen solid on your couch, as if hoping he can't be seen if he stays still enough. The cat gives you a look.

You raise a brow. "What? Don't look at me like that."

He keeps looking at you like that.

"I helped him over by the wisteria. His foot's a little bad, but it's nothing too bad." The fox stays curled up on your couch, digging his nails into the cushions much like a cat would. An ear twitches in your direction, as if he's sheepish but won't admit to it.

Yoongi mewls a single, drawn out mewl of acceptance. You nod nod nod, and the cat jumps down your window and disappears into the woods right when the wind starts blowing north and the sun starts climbing higher before dropping lower.

The world stills for a while as you work through your home, organizing your chipped cups and bent spoons and funny forks. The mushroom wraith on your door wiggles when you pass it by, and when the frog figurine on your counter croaks in greeting the fox nearly jumps out of its skin.

(The fox is gone by morning, right when the sun settles over the honeysuckle tumbling down your thatched roof. You try to feel for his presence, but it's overwhelmed by the snails and woodpeckers and oversized mushrooms.

You think that's when the letters started coming, perched nicely over your windowsill whenever you're not looking).

There's a man in your pond.

The carp in the water yells indignantly as the man tries to stand but tumbles, pondweed curled over his ankles as if begging him to stay. You just stare because the man tries to get up once then twice then three times, hair loose and windblown and positively drenched, twigs and pondweed in the knots.

You stare and stare until the man notices you and startles, looks away quickly before cringing and hesitatingly meeting your eyes. He lifts a hand, lowers it, lifts it again and waves. You wave back.

"Hello." You say. The man looks a little stunned, more stunned than when the carp had nipped at his feet. You point at the pond, "You're standing in my pond."

"Ah!" He startles, head whipping down like he'd forgotten all about it. "I am! In your pond, I mean. Sorry, sorry." The pondweed untangles itself mercifully, and he shuffles out of the water, toes curling into the dirt around it.

"It's okay!" You shoot him a thumbs up. He stares. "Do you want to, uh, come inside?"

So the man walks through the slim wooden trellis and diligently wipes his feet on the rug, shuffling through the door with hesitant steps. He looks a little like a painting left out too long in the rain, all ruffled hair and stiff shoulders, but pretty nonetheless.

"Would you like some tea?" You say, already grabbing the kettle from the cupboards, "It will have to have milk, though, since the cups don't like serving without."

"Okay! Tea is nice. Thank you." Then he smiles with knee-deep dimples and pinchable cheeks and something inside you kinda melts a little.

The man's name is Namjoon and his skin is tan despite it already being winter, the color of salted caramel. He's so bright you find it easier to look away, to look instead at the space around him, the shadow against the pane of his neck, the length of his-- very long legs. You'll pretend you never noticed that.

You don't talk about why he was in your pond, not really. He's already apologized to the carp, he says. You talk instead about mushroom glades and why avocados are acceptable dinner foods and his intense love for moths and his hopes for snow this year.

When Namjoon leaves it all feels a bit unprecedented. Lost souls show up on your doorstep often, always leaving after a cup of tea and a few helpful directions, but Namjoon doesn't look lost at all. Looks a little like he belongs, really.

He rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck, then sticks a hand out in offering. You shake his hand. He nods, lingers on the doorway, plays with a loose stitching of his soft green overalls.

"I'll-- be seeing you, then," he clears his throat, and you just laugh a little loosely because no, you won't. With lost souls, you never do.

Except Namjoon does return. He returns, in fact, in green baseball shorts and an open-collared shirt with sugar packets sticking out of the front pockets. He looks a bit like a dad showing up for his son's football game. Looks a little dangerous but in a harmless way, like a huge gangly bug. A six-foot stick insect hovering outside your door.

You're a little stunned. Very stunned. So stunned that Namjoon cringes, shuffles a bit on your welcome mat. It's a frog with a thought bubble that says welcome! that Namjoon has expressed his love for on multiple occasions.

"Hello," he purses his lips. "I... wanted to thank you. Again. For everything." He sucks in a breath. "Bad time? Bad time. I don't actually remember knocking-- did I knock? God, I didn't, did I? I'm so rude, I'm so sorry."

"No, no," you say once you've recovered. "You, you definitely knocked."

"Oh!" His lips form a surprised little 'o'. You're so fond. "That's good. Okay. I'll... be leaving, then."

"Um!" You interject, "You can come inside, if you want?"

So he comes inside and drinks tea and names the cactus by your windowsill Gerald and discusses his complaints on climate change and you're a little content and a lot confused, because--

Only creatures of the forest can find your house more than once.

Unless--

(That night, you knock on your own walls and glare indignantly. Say, "You led him here, didn't you?"

The walls do nothing. You think you hear a floorboard creak, though.

You stomp your feet like an overgrown child. "I don't know what you're trying to accomplish, but I'm not falling for it!"

No response. Except the wind chimes outside sing brightly, but when you look out the window there's no wind at all).

Namjoon visits once then twice then three times, always showing up unplanned and out of nowhere. He brings a pinecone first then a dandelion next, blushes and says I didn't pluck them against their will! I told them they looked pretty and they volunteered to help me.

He's so pretty it's become a little harder to hold in. He was always pretty, always smiles a bit too brightly, like he's swallowed a star and can't quite keep all the brightness to himself, but something's shifted a bit.

(You contemplate this in a mid afternoon. As in: whisper-screaming to the ceiling for a while. And then whisper-screaming some more when Yoongi walks directly across your face.

"You're a monster," you inform him.

He digs his tiny monster-claws into your stomach.)

One day, you learn the man is weirdly good at knitting. You learn he has a pretty solid grasp on quantum physics. You learn that when he laughs it's a little hah! under his breath, and when he really laughs it turns sideways and belly-up, pitching into something that could almost be defined as a giggle. You learn that you need to stop staring.

Another day, Namjoon sits in the corner of your couch, curled up reading a book he'd picked up from the next village over. It's small but very thick with what could only be very small letters, because he's squinting a bit as he reads. It's vastly endearing.

Another day, he makes cheesy bread in your toaster and felt bad about it for the next three weeks. Which is also the amount of time it took for you to get all the cheese out.

Everything's great.

Today, though, you're walking through the forest alone. The forest doesn't guide you, not really, maybe because it knows you're walking on your own terms.

The forest is noisy with the sounds of birds calling and trees growing and little things skipping here and there through the undergrowth. Your shoes are so muddy you don't really care for how much worse they get, and they squelch when your heels sink into puddles and spongy moss.

You walk and walk until you come across a clearing, a bird feeder propped neatly over a tree branch. A sparrow squawks when it sees you.

"Hello," you say in greeting, and the tree with the bird feeder sighs, the wind blowing and carrying the sound.

A tree root on the ground grabs a fistful of dirt and promptly flings it onto your knees. You shriek indignantly.

You have a lot to figure out, the tree echoes because of course it does. It has a history of saying things vaguely and hoping you'll understand.

"I don't understand," you say out loud.

It flings more dirt onto your knees. You step back protectively, "Okay, okay! I get it!"

One, two. Four clouds in the sky, for now, it says at last, and you're a bit afraid of prying, so you just accept what it says as fact and move on, say one last goodbye to the bluetit that flutters onto the bird feeder.

It starts raining not long after that, when more than four clouds settle over the evening sun, makes it a bit harder to maneuver through the woods. You walk based on feeling, a hand brushing over the tree trunks, silently cursing the tree.

Namjoon is already waiting when you arrive home, hurries forward when he spots you through the trees, holding an umbrella up high.

And it's-- sweet. Just a really sweet thing to do, really considerate. He could have waited inside, in the warmth and shelter, but instead he's walking through puddles to meet you halfway with an umbrella.

He looks a little funny when he stops in front of you, hair disheveled and sticking up in random places, eyes all worried and sullen. He looks like a goose.

"You look like a goose," you say out loud with a little laugh, "I'm already wet though, so there's not much point in this, you know?"

Namjoon's smile is a bit dopey, a bit sloppy at the edges. "But there's not many trees to shield you, from this point on." He says, "Let's-- go inside?"

So you go inside, the house already setting the fireplace with its never-ending firewood, the frog figurine croaking and the wind chimes singing and everything feels a little right. A little more homey.

"Did you find your way back easily?" Namjoon says later, hands cupping his tea mug as he sheepishly adds, "I know this is your-- home, obviously, I don't wanna just assume anything, but-- For me, it's a bit harder to navigate when it rains like this. Fogs my senses and all," he clears his throat.

You purse your lips to keep from smiling, "Do you know how a wood witch works, Namjoon?" You continue when he shakes his head, "A wood witch is the one who planted the first seed that sprouted the first tree that grew the first forest," you say, half-chanting it, cite it like a rhyme long forgotten.

He looks a bit awe-struck. A lot awe-struck. Says, "Oh." And that's that.

You add, sheepish, "It's really not much. I'm not as powerful as other wood witches, but I am grateful to the woods." You hum, "They gave me this cottage. They gave me who I am, really."

"Oh." Namjoon says. "Oh." He stares and stares, open mouthed and in awe and sort of dazed but pretty, pretty. His gaze trails over the room once before settling back on you, says, "You're all the beauty in the world."

And the world-- stills, maybe-- balanced atop a drop of nectar.

You whisper a small, delighted "Oh." And that's that.

Namjoon somehow manages to drag you outside the woods.

You're being dragged through busy streets, cars and crowds and carriages that boggle your senses. The difference between the village and the woods is astounding. (Not that you've never been to nearby cities or villages-- sometimes you crave poptarts and there's nothing you can do about it-- but it's been a while since you've walked into the very heart of it).

You might be a wood witch, but Namjoon is the one who looks a little — lost, outside the woods.

"This is my favorite corner cafe," he admits proudly, "Um, if Seokjin-hyung says anything, please be aware I'm not associated with him."

"Got it." You like this Seokjin guy already.

Taylor Swift is blasting through the speakers when you walk inside, a broad shouldered man swaying from side to side behind the counter as he pours milk into a cup. Once his eyes land on Namjoon he positively grins.

"Namjoon, my man!" He belts out a particularly impressive high note as Namjoon approaches him, but no one around seems at all fazed. "It's been so long!"

"I've been here last week, hyung." Namjoon says but he seems a bit happy to be missed, sheepishly ducking his head.

"That's too long. You should visit more often, it's great! I get free coffee here and don't have to walk through muddy paths and ominous sounds to visit you."

"It's not free though?" Namjoon frowns, "You may own the shop but you're the one who buys all the coffee in the first place."

The man behind the counter makes a noise that's too distorted to understand. "If I wanted someone to tear apart my ideas with logic I'd talk to Yoongi, you're both insufferable."

You want to interject but at the same time don't. You get so absorbed in your own thoughts you almost don't notice when they mention a Yoongi. Huh.

"Oh, you know Yoongi? The cat?" You blink when two sets of eyes settle on you.

"Ah, yes. Yoongi." The man you've now established has to be Seokjin sighs, resting a chin over his palm, "The devious fiend. The pest of the nest. The gremlin goblin."

"Do you ever think before you speak."

"I do! I thought of those words and then I said them."

Namjoon sighs and none of them elaborate any further, but you decide not to pry. You can always just ask Yoongi, anyway.

You both sit in a booth in the far corner where light reflects onto it perfectly but not in an overwhelming way, just enough to be warm and comforting. Seokjin pads over with your drink and Namjoon's latte and shoots excessive finger guns as he leaves, and Namjoon looks a bit like he's refraining from apologizing on his behalf.

Namjoon doodles on napkins and talks like he's reciting a far off poem, except he's talking about what should be the correct pronunciation of pickles and you're kinda maybe really hopelessly endeared.

"Do you think I should paint my nails?" He's saying, closely inspecting his nibbled nails, "Maybe it will make me stop biting my nails."

"Have you thought of green?"

He hums delightedly, "Green! I love green. I'm thinking pink though, since gender norms are a social construct and pink is just pretty in general."

"You'll look like a pretty little winter fairy!" You grin. He flushes pink, too.

Then when you get up to order another drink he stands quick, as if intending to order it for you, but you're already grinning and skipping to the counter and when you turn to look at him he's slowly sitting back down, defeated.

You're maybe smiling too hard when Seokjin walks to take your order. "Ah, Y/n-ssi! How may I help you, my gentle woodland elf?"

"Can I just have the same thing, please?" You say and he hums, walking mechanically towards his cabinets.

Then after staring dazedly at the separate christmas mugs and cinnamon buns and droopy plants, you're looking around when you spot a box by the back counter that looks like an awful lot like a letter slot, a stack of envelopes sitting neatly on top. Oh.

"What's that for?" You gesture towards the box, and Seokjin turns away from the coffee grinder to smile something a little gentle. A little secretive.

"We're a letter shop too, you know?" He looks like he's suppressing a sort of devious smile he doesn't want you to see, "We deliver letters on the writer’s behalf, so the sender stays anonymous."

Your organs twist and melt together all at once. You mumble a small "Oh" and that's that.

Then when you leave Seokjin winks before sending you both off, the man waving boisterously and maybe obnoxiously but you're immensely endeared, wave back until the shop is out of sight and Namjoon is sufficiently embarrassed.

You predictably invite Namjoon inside after you arrive home, deciding that soup after coffee doesn't sound too bad. So you watch as the fireflies do somersaults and the moths hover over lamps as you both go for seconds and then for thirds and you don't say much, maybe say nothing at all, but that's okay, too.

The soup signals a change, you think. Either

1) You are in love with Namjoon and need to tell him.

Or

2) You are in love with soup and need to seek help.

So you walk through the forest.

Namjoon is at home, you know, but you feel that talking to Namjoon about your possible love for Namjoon is a bit counterproductive, so you walk through the forest instead.

Everyone is still adjusting to last night's downpour, the floors muddy and the leaves droopy and everything smelling like wet earth. You walk but you're hovering a few inches off the ground, silently thank the forest for its kindness.

You walk through the forest again the next day, think back to the tree with the bird feeder and think that maybe he wasn't so vague after all. Just wish that he could tell you what to do next.

It's easier to listen to a tree's vague advice than it is to follow through with it, you think, until a few weeks later, when the universe decides you need a little push. A big push. The biggest push.

Namjoon has been visiting consistently for the past month or so, sometimes staying over and sometimes staying just before nightfall, but for maybe a week you haven't heard of him at all. He's disappeared without a trace.

The forest guides you this time, patches of sunlight shining through trees as you follow. You think you hear the shrill argument between a finch and a jay on the treetops as you navigate through mushroom patches and mossy rocks.

It's the field of wisteria. You're in the field of wisteria when you find a small burrow, a little home for a woodland creature.

When you turn, you see-- Namjoon. Namjoon, eyes widened in horror, a strangled sound breaking free from his throat. Two white fox ears standing ramrod straight on his head.

You clear your throat. Say, "Hi, Namjoon."

He shrieks.

A finch flutters onto the bird feeder, eyes twinkling, "Guys, you will not believe what I just found out--"

"We know," the jay says.

"We know," the bluetit says.

"We know," the sparrow says.

Even Yoongi mewls from a higher tree branch.

The finch squawks, gossip stolen from right under its wing, "How on Earth did you all know?"

"The forest made the house bigger," Yoongi drawls, tail swishing here and there, "And we all helped deliver the letters."

"Different from someone, we can actually keep secrets!" Says the jay, chest puffed proudly, ignoring the offended squeals from the finch.

"You know, it was actually kind of obvious."

You hum from beside Namjoon, his arm draped over the back of the couch inches away from dropping onto your shoulder. He wants to tug you closer, comb a hand through your hair, but the mere thought has his face burning and ears threatening to pop out at the stress. He's kissed you before, dozens of times, for many reasons and for no reason at all, but it all still feels a little nerve wrecking, like one push will have you burst at the seams.

(Which, frankly, is ridiculous-- you're the strongest person he knows, but-- but.)

"What is?" He says to distract himself.

"The letters stopped coming after you started showing up, and you literally took me to a letter shop." You falter and add, "And just.. the way you say things, it sounds like how you sound when you write. I don't know if I'm making sense, but it's-- nice." You explain, a hint of affection on your voice.

That has nothing to do with being a fox shifter and everything to do with you sitting so prettily next to him, smelling like Ilsan sunshine and kept promises and damp earth, like the forest itself.

"Hmm," he hums, a hand settling on your thigh, finally gathering the courage to drop his arm onto your shoulder--

"Namjoon, you really don't have to hesitate for this kind of stuff." You say, turning to look at him with a grin. His face burns as he clears his throat pointedly, crossing one leg over the other as he finally drops an arm over your shoulder.

"M'sorry," he mumbles.

"Don't be," You press a kiss to his chin, "And you better kiss me properly this instant, because it seems you still think that crocs are acceptable footwear. I'm gonna come to my senses any second now."

"Please don't," he says, a little wild. Then he's moving, nose brushing over your cheek, and then— and then—

A hand curling softly over your cheek, a little giggle, and his lips pressing gently over your own. Something a bit real. Un-takeback-able. You taste a lot like the poetry he writes, still writes, like you're pressing the wonders of the world to his lips, like he's skimming the universe with his hands.

(Once upon a time, you saved a fox lying in a field of wisteria.

The rest of the story is told in open envelopes, messages left for the moon to see.)

[tvdsure]

Don’t jump to conclusions

pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader, armin Arlert x fem!reader

genre: modern au, fluff and a bit of angst if you look hard enough

word count: 5.7k+

warnings: non

summary: eren has a tour so he’s leaving for three months, you’re absolutely broken but that feeling fades when armin comes over to stay at your place; however, eren isn’t too okay with that idea.

The wind advances through my hair, the jet black locks flowing loosely. It felt magical. However, nothing good ever lasts, they say, and they're right. Eren is leaving. He’s got a huge offer in England to work for this huge band, he's really exhilarated about it and couldn't pass it off, not to mention that it was only a global tour; nonetheless, i'll miss him drastically. 

He reminded me constantly that it’s only three months and that he'll be back in the blink of an eye. I know it won't be like that though, nothing will be like that. I’ve always done everything with him, even before we got together he, armin, mikasa, annie and I were always hanging out. Me and eren were always more than childhood friends though, we both knew that, he took me on our first date when we were 14. I remember  it just like it was yesterday, him anxiously fidgeting as if I would reject him. That date was the first of many.

“Baby,” he starts as he lifts his hand from my thigh and to my hand that was on the light pink bag. He gently caresses the back of my hand as he raises it to his lips and an immediate smile sneaks it’s way to my lips. He is such a sappy romantic but I swoon for it.

“I know you don't like the fact that I have to leave, I don't too, baby. But please promise that you won't lock yourself up in the apartment till I come back. I need you to be okay, i cant handle the fact of you being devastated in our apartment.” he smiles lightly against my skin as he keeps kissing up my arm. Till he reaches my shoulder then I scoot closer to him, pressing my lips against his.

He pulls away quickly after a few seconds to keep an eye on the road and I smirk seeing his distressed face. “Baby, we’re on the road!” he whines and I chortle once again as he does too.

For the rest of the ride I mostly sit there ‘vibing with the music subconsciously as Eren keeps a hand on the steering wheel and the other holding his cigarette. His arm extends to rest on the window as he occasionally bends his arm to bring the cigarette to his mouth then back onto the window. He’s always been thoughtful, caring about my health a little more than he should. He���s so protective, whenever he was smoking he wouldn't allow me in the room and he’d tell me to exit till he’s done, seeing as it is not an hourly thing or is something that repeatedly happens, I leave him.

The music carried me as I started falling asleep. I rested my head against the window and both my hands were left against my bag. He then, quite gently, takes one of my hands to attach his lips to it once again. I swear, he makes my knees weak with every move and I’m not even standing.

“I love you so much y/n, please I’m begging you to take care of yourself, I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t.” He tranquilly whispers while taking my hand to his lips one more time then letting them go -very gently- he would never hurt me, I know that.

Slowly, I swirl around to indicate that I’m waking up and I sense his immediate guilt forming, thinking he woke me up.

“‘We there yet?” I ask quietly. He hums, demonstrating a yes.

“Yeah, just got here.” His soft voice radiated immediate warmth towards me. Being next to him makes me so happy, I don’t want that to end, ever.

After hearing his words I stretched a bit then took the water bottle from the handle and took a sip of it when Eren suddenly hit the brakes. The cold water that was once flowing down my throat, is now all over my red outfit.

“That guy just stopped out of-“ he quickly cut himself off when he saw my soaked status.

“Oh my God, baby I’m so sorry, are you okay?” quickly, he tried to get tissues and I giggled lightly. 

“Don’t worry, it’s just water, It’ll dry in the chilly weather anyways.” He calmed down and I smiled at his actions. He’s such a caring person, I don’t know what I’ll do without him.

“Okay and…” he put an arm on my seat as he tried to park correctly. I smile as I take in his features, the white lights illustrating his demeanor. Gray piercing eyes glowing illuminatingly in the moon, he looked so handsome like that. With me. Next to me. Not away from me on the other side of the world.

“Done, let’s go, actually you stay here and I’ll move my bags, you can just get ready.” He knows that before I get out of the car I like to do a few things, it takes me three minutes to get ready. 

“Okay, I love you.” I chant as he smiles at me.

“I Love you more, gorgeous.” A blush forms on my cheeks at the cute nickname he gave me and I grin while looking at the mirror to get ready.

I fix some of my makeup then spray extra perfume. Once I’m done and feel satisfied I get out of the car only to see Eren already down with all two bags out. 

“Okay so these are the bags that I’ll let them take then this one,” he points to a smaller bag, “I’ll take with me on the flight, good?” I nod and walk over to him wrapping my hands around his neck.

“I love you.” I remind once again and he chuckles lightly then kisses my nose.

“I love you more.” 

——————-——————-——————-————-

“That’s it, I guess now I should go.” I said softly as he was showing his passport to the lady who let him in. This was the furthest I could go, I despise that.

“I’ll miss you so much, princess.” He smiles at me and I give him a sweet one back, God I’m going to miss him so much.

“Yeah, me too.” With one hand on my waist, the other lightly touches my cheek and I sigh contently at his movements, I don’t want this to ever end. His thumb rubs over my bottom lips and I instantaneously attach our lips together.

After a few seconds we both pull away and I sense tears threatening to leave my eyes. “I don’t want you to leave, Eren please don’t leave me.” I felt horrible about how selfish I am being but I was just voicing my inner thoughts, I really don’t want him to go.

“Angel…” he cooes and I feel a tear rip from my left eye. The salty, cold droplet against my skin creates a burning sensation. “You know that if that’s really what you want I can arrange it, right? If you don’t want me to go then just say it and I’ll tell them to find a drummer.”

My thoughts become clouded by supplemental cologne. I felt dizzy just hugging him. He leaned down, inching closer to me and kissed my lips.

The act of affection didn't surprise me but with tears in my eyes it was hard to focus on the kiss, so I didn't. I got lost in it.

“N-no, uh…” I stutter as I wipe my tears backing away from him completely, “I'm sorry, baby, I'm okay; plus, you have to follow your dreams, I am in no way going to stop you from that.” I smiled and he nodded lightly as he held my waist and pulled me into another hug.

After a few seconds, whilst tugging away he grabs my check and hands a light peck on my forehead.

“See you, handsome.” I chant and he laughs slightly at my enthusiastic tone.

“I’ll call you when I get there, pretty girl.” he chuckles then throws a wink my way as I fake a smile, afterwards I pull my eyes from his direction as they start to swell up with unstoppable tears.

——————-——————-——————-————-

I throw my shoes on the bedroom floor, my skirt and shirt along with it. On my bed lies an oversized hoodie, belonging to eren. I believe he left it here on purpose, for me. Without a second thought I put it on, feeling pleased with the warmth.

Just as I am about to finally close my eyes to sleep my phone rings in an obnoxiously loud way causing me to flinch and sigh heavily. “‘My baby💘👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 & miss hottie💞🥵 & gorgeous girl💕👩‍❤️‍👩 group chat....”’ I smile slightly at my phone seeing the screen and instantaneously grab my phone to answer.

“Heyy!” I intone and the three females wave at their screens.

“Hey y/n!” Historia exclaims as I smile at her zeal while she talks with me about her day. Mikasa is sitting there listening with the same bored expression on her face, on the other hand, Annie is quite invested in whatever is behind her screen. I’ll take a wild guess and say that she’s also listening to Armin and that's why she’s muted.

“Yeah, but overall it was quite boring, although Mikasa did prank me but that’s a different story.” She laughed and I did too. She’s so adorable. I love her innocence and that pretty smile of hers, it makes me so happy knowing I'm one of her best friends.

Historia and Mikasa are roommates; when they both wanted the same apartment yet found it to somehow cost a lot of money they decided on splitting the rent.

“God I can only imagine one of Mikasa’s pranks, I would honestly just faint, you’re scary as hell.” I add and all four of us chuckle as Mika glares at me but eventually crakes up with us.

After a while I check the time ‘11:16’ it reads, that means we’ve been talking for two and a half hours. I can't stall for sleep anymore.

“Guys, I'm gonna go to sleep now.” I question and they all nod consecutively.

“Love you, bye.” after i get i love you too’s from all of them i press the large red button covering my phone as it takes over the screen with a bright red making me squint lightly.

I change my LED lights to green, get under the blankets and slip my legs round the pillow as I shift into a more comfortable position.

“‘Ocean boy💙📖’ ‘Ocean boy💙📖’ ‘Ocean boy💙📖’” siri chants as i groan once again, armin your timing could not be more impeccable!

“Hello?” I answer with a grumble as I hear him chuckle lightly. He’s actually making me feel better by just hearing his voice.

“Asleep, sweetheart?” I nod but then remember that he can’t actually see me so I just let a light ‘mhm’ out as I shift again. Me and Armin's late night calls last endless hours so I'll be here for a while.

“Well, I won't keep you up too long, just wanted to ask if I can come over right now?” a smile makes itself onto my face and i eagerly answer,

“Of course, you’re always welcome at any time, that’s kind of why you have my keys, idiot.” he laughs at my retort and hangs up. That was quick… too quick.

I was also kind of expecting a reason as to why he’s spending the night here but I guess I'll get that when he comes over.

——————-——————-——————-————-

The sunshine radiated bright light into my eyes, stingin it ever so slightly. I stretch a bit when I feel a body lying next to me. An ample of cologne fills my nose; ‘212 vip black extra’, I can recognise it from miles away. 

“Armin?” I mumble, still half asleep. 

“Yeah?” he groans when I move a minor step away, “no, please i am finally able to sleep, stay.” he pouts so I giggle then get back under the covers.

After some minutes passing I pry myself away as I replace my body with a pillow.

“I can notice the difference between a pillow and you, sweetheart.” he chuckles, still lethargic and I grin at his comment but let him sleep as I get to the kitchen to cook breakfast up.

“‘Forever and always💓💍’ facetime ‘forever and always💓💍’ facetime ‘forever and always💓💍’ facetime” my phone annotates what’s written on the screen and my face lit up almost instantly.

I answer and put the phone against a bowl so I can check on the pancakes. “Hey, beautiful.” I hear his voice say, already feeling the smirk forming on his face, because of my blush,  even from millions of kilometers away.

“Hey, baby.” I answer as I set the timer and take a piece of gum as I start leaving the kitchen to sit on the couch.

“How was the flight?” I ask randomly as I see him tidying up his bed so he can go to sleep.

“Energy-consuming but it went smoothly, want to say hi?” I nod rapidly as he chuckles.

“y’all, say hi to y/n.” He announces and I wave at ymir, pieck, Sasha and Connie, they all do the same whilst smiling kindly.

Sasha ( the lead singer) is nibbling on some chips whilst her laptop is open, some light noise is heard so i'm assuming she’s on netflix. Ymir (band leader and lead Guitarist) is on facetime with someone, probably historia, and she’s also making her bed for bed. Connie (rhythm Guitarist) has his head on Sasha's lap, watching whatever she’s watching to probably entertain himself, nothing more, it looks as if he’s bored though. Pieck (bassist) is on her guitar playing loosely on some strings - probably out of fatigueness.

“Hey girl.” Sasha greets and I blow her a kiss.

“Hi y/n.” ymir accosts then goes back to historia quickly.

“Love, how are you?” Pieck salutes with a smile and her accent brings happiness over me, finally I can hear my best friend talk to me again. She was never free and especially now with the tour but at least I got to hear her again.

“y/n! How have you been? I've missed you, y/n/n.” Connie welcomes with a rhapsodic tone, he even called me by my nickname, which hardly anyone does.

“Hey guys, I'm doing great and I've missed you so much more, I can't wait to celebrate your tour when you come home.” I told them, they all smiled at me and thanked me as eren got out of this room and to his. They’re in a hotel until he is able to actually start the tour, which should be in two days tops.

“I miss you already.” I flatter. He laughs and then tells me ‘I miss you too’ in addition to that he, and I quote, ‘can’t live without me for that long’.

“And here I am thinking I am the one who’s going to be clingy.” he rolls his eyes at my sassy comment and we both burst out laughing.

“Y’all are way too loud.” I hear Armin groan from behind me as I laugh at his comment. Looking back at Eren, I see his face drop, I don't understand why though.

“Look, y/n, i’ll talk to you in the morning.” he quickly states and i give him a weird look but comply.

“Oh, okay then, I lo-” he hung up. There has never been one call where we didn't end it with affection, with one too many i love you’s, with too many compliments, with too many hope your day is absolutely amazing’s… what’s wrong?

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Armin says and I smile at him.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” he chuckles as i see him making two cups of coffee.

“It’s fine, I can make it. I was going to but eren called, you can just go watch something if you want.” I say as I walk up to the kitchen, but the two cups was already smelling fantastic. The smell of strong coffee beans was immaculate and it made me feel warm.

“Here.” he hands me my cup and a quick kiss on the forehead before grabbing a fork and flipping the pancakes that I forgot about completely. That is exactly why I let Eren cook everyday.

“Oh my- I’m so sorry armin, I’m horrible at this cooking thing.” I apologize laughing lightly to not sound too serious.

“Don’t worry, I do it for Annie everyday. Got used to it, sweetheart.” I nod and smile as he drinks the coffee in his hand whilst mailing breakfast and I just check Instagram.

~Jeagerbomb~ is active.

Why would he do that? Wherefore would he lie to me like that? I don’t even get why he’s so mad either, why is he making a big deal out of literally nothing!

“Hey, sweetheart, what’s with the long face?” Armin asks as he slouches next to me.

“Eren is ignoring me, he’s clearly active yet he wouldn’t talk to me because he ‘wants to sleep’ but he’s awake and scrolling through instagram,” i take a deep breath and keep going, “this is exactly what i was afraid of. I hate that he can just turn off our call at any time and I can't disagree and then not knowing what he’s doing all alone. But when we’re together I can get it out of him, I can convince him to tell me why he’s mad then we’ll fix it.” 

“y/n, Eren won’t stay mad at you for long, he never can. In the morning call him and check if everything is alright but for now you can’t be upset the whole day.” he reassures and I nod quietly.

“Enough about my problems, I want to know why you called me in the middle of the night like that and then said that you were finally able to sleep?”

“Me and annie got into a huge fight.” he explained, fidgeting with his fingers that were on his lap, “i tried fixing it but she wouldn’t listen to me, she kept saying how i don’t love her anymore and that she feels me drifting apart…” he zoned out for a second probably remembering exactly what happened.

“She even accused me of cheating on her.” I could see the tears sliding down his check as he quickly wiped them. “I love her, y/n, I really do, I don't understand why she doesn't trust me. I have never given her a reason not to, I mean, did I do something?" 

Armin looks heartbroken and it kills me that he feels like he did something wrong. Annie might be feeling insecure but it doesn't make sense to just lash out on armin like that.

“Why does she think you’re cheating?”

“I came home late yesterday and she automatically assumed the worst, I don't follow her logic though, she’s been very insecure lately which is driving me crazy. I just want her to trust me, y/n.” Practically feeling the tears he was letting go of, I hugged him tightly hoping to make him feel only a bit of reassurance. 

“Armin, I hope you don't mind me asking but why did you come home late?” he shuffled in his seat and let go of me.

“I was looking for a gift for our 2 year anniversary coming up this Wednesday, I couldn't tell her though, I kept begging her to just have some trust in me. It hurt seeing how easily she thought I could cheat on her. I give Annie everything I have and can give her, I don't know how else to prove my love to her.”

“I know Armin, I know, it's okay. Annie isnt stupid, she knows you would never do that to her, just give her sometime.” he nods and we stay in that position. It’s relaxing. Knowing that he is here for me, and me for him.

We spent the whole day together in my house. We did all kinds of things, sang a bit, danced around, baked up some brownies, had too many energy drinks and tried to call Annie but she didn't answer.

Once it was 09:30 pm, Armin went into the shower and I was on my phone, waiting for him so we could go buy some things from the grocery shop.

Scrolling through instagram i saw an article concerning Eren, normally i hated these but it actually caught my attention; ‘Eren Jeager seen with co-star Pieck Finger’. I can almost hear my heart thumping inside of my throat. It burns, badly. That isn’t true, it can’t be, Eren loves me. My first instinct is to call him but that thought is forgotten when Armin comes out of the shower, asking for something. He was still in a towel, one that covers his waist and the other around his hair as he moves it throughout.

The veins in his arms protruded beneath his pale skin, he’s drying his hair with the towel, clasping and unclasping his hand as an indication of comfort as he slid the towel on his hair down and into the laundry bin. 

“y/n, where’s my shirt?” he asks whilst his eyes are darting around. I nuzzled my face into the soft pillow case, tear stained cheeks leaving wet smears on the fabric. 

“You’ll find it on the kitchen counter.'' I sniffle lightly and hope he doesn't notice my broken voice. It was late, almost 10:00 pm and I'm here; curled in a loose ball under a stack of velvety blankets breaking down. I pulled the t-shirt I'm wearing over my nose as I heard him mutter a ‘thank you’ then get out to get changed. 

Taking a deep inhale and drowning myself in the sweet scent of my boyfriend’s t-shirt, or atleast, I hope he’s still my boyfriend. The t-shirt was one that he said was his favourite, it’s scent drove me fanatical as I kept taking more of it in, hoping all my worries would just fade into it.

“Incoming call from ‘jaegerbomb’,Incoming call from ‘jaegerbomb’,Incoming call from ‘jaegerbomb’” 

Hesitantly, my fingers scanned the phone a couple of times before I answered.

“Hey, y/n'' I hear from the other side of the phone. His voice doesn’t sound too enthusiastic but he also didn't seem bothered. No emotion.

“Hey, Eren.” I answer back and the line goes dead silent. He doesn't talk for about a minute, why did he call if he was just going to breathe into the phone the whole time?

“Oi, y/n, I still can’t find my shirt.” Armin approaches and my eyes go wide at what he says. This may be totally normal because I understand what’s happening but eren on the other hand, may understand it in a different way.

“Oh, try the living room.” he nodded and strolled away. I can practically hear Eren trying to control his temper because of what he heard but I know my answer assured him to some extent. I mean, I wouldn't answer armin if i was actually cheating.

“y/n what’s armin doing at your place?” The vexation is visible in each syllable he pronounces.

“He got into a fight with Annie last night, decided to stay at my place till they’re fine again.” I elaborate with insureness in my voice. I'm trying to sound as confident as possible but my throat becomes too dry to form assertive words.

“Couldn’t he stay in reiner’s or even Mikasa’s?” The annoyance was quite conspicuous as he keeps complaining.

“Eren! I can't kick him out because you’re somehow jealous, he is our best friend and in need of a place to stay. What would you do if I kicked you out?”

“Not stay at Annie's…” he mumbles and that was the last straw for me. 

“Excuse me?” I semi-yell into the phone, “are you saying that I should kick him out? Eren, he trusts me enough to tell me about his problems and for me to cooperate, how dare you even say that about your childhood best friend. He has been there for you every step of the way and this is how you repay him? By being a jealous boyfriend when he’s hurting?” exasperation ran through my blood as i let it out, he is being so unreasonable and i will not stand by this behavior.

“y/n, calm down! I’m just saying that it’s weird that he came to you. I don't like the idea of this happening without your boyfriend supervising.”

“You don't trust me?”

“What? No that’s not what I'm saying, I trust you y/n, wholeheartedly.”

“However, you have the audacity to say that you need to supervise me and armin’s hangouts?”

“Don't be like that, I don't mean it that way. I trust both of you, nonetheless, it just scares me that I'm not there, I mean…” he stops for a few seconds and I somehow make out a sniffle, “baby, what if you fall for him again? I wouldn't blame you, he's everything I'm not but I just don't want you to go. Please y/n, I don't want you to leave me.” 

“Eren,” my tone immediately softens at his change, he’s feeling insecure?

“I love you, okay?”

“Okay…” 

“No, I mean it. I love you more than i love myself and any human on this earth, i love you so much eren and i would never trade this for anyone else. I promise I'm not going anywhere, baby.” it shattered me, the fact that i have to say this to remind him how in love with him i am. He’s my everything, I would never give that up for any other human.

“I love you, angel.”

“I love you more.”

——————-——————-——————-————-

After me and eren caught up on everything else, assured each other and talked over some stuff, we ended the call as he was getting called into rehearsals.

“Hey, y/n.” I hear Armin's soft voice speak from behind the door as he slowly comes in and I let him enter. He is fully dressed but his hair is still wet and it looks really cute on him.

When eren mentioned me falling for armin ‘again’ he meant when we were both best friends long ago. Five years ago, I had the biggest crush  on Armin, it was known. Everyone knew it, even he did but we never confessed to one another, too cowardly to do so. I know he used to like me back though. We joke about the situation now, a small laugh; yet, eren never got over it. He always took it quite personally because Armin is ‘everything he isn't’ in his eyes. He’s always been insecure about that but I thought he trusted me, I thought he would let go of these worries if it’s me we’re talking about. I figured out worries are worries and he’ll feel that way. The only thing I can do is assure him and help him.

“Yeah?” I answer as I reopen twitter to have a chortle before going to bed.

“I'm sorry, for everything. Being a burden on both you and eren, for what happened with Annie, with how I'm disappointing you guys and everyone else. I'm so sorry.” The break in his voice was sorrowful as his eyes diverted the gaze from me to anything else around the room.

“No, oh my God. Armin you aren't a burden and definitely disappointing anyone. Annie is mad, for an invalid reason, it’s fine. If you heard anything, which I'm guessing you did, eren was also just furious with an invalid reasoning. And to me you are nowhere near a burden or such. Don't doubt yourself, ever.”

“Thank you, y/n. Thank you for all of this, making me stay over and your constant affirmation.” I smile slightly at him and get out of bed to hug him. We stay in the position for what feels like hours, his hands on my waist, my arms slung around his neck.

When we pull apart he looks into my eyes for a few seconds, his ocean blue eyes glowing enchantingly. They were beautiful, trancing, and I couldn't stop myself from being so intrigued by the stories behind them.

Suddenly, I snap out of the stupor I was once in. quickly, i push him away as we both pant lightly, the air seemed to become limited in the room as we both gain back our consciousness.

“y/n-”

“Armin-uh. I think I'll go to bed early. If you can't find anything in the fridge you’re welcome to go to the hypermarket. Goodnight.” he looks at the floor quietly as he moves out of my room.

I'm screwed.

I can't believe we just had a moment. No, absolutely not, just two friends hugging, that’s all. Eren will despise me, how can I be such a hypocrite? I have to tell him, I just have to.

Never mind, I won't tell him, he doesn't need to know anyways.

Silent. The room was cleansed and cleaned top to bottom whilst I was asleep. The lights are renewed, I can smell pastries from downstairs and (this next one is a shock) no one is sleeping next to me.

“Armin?” I call out loudly yet no one answers.

I get up, rubbing my eyes before noticing the large cup of hot coffee on my nightstand. The steam flowing, making sure to inform me that it was just made and brought to me.

Taking the cup of coffee in my hand, I saunter down the stairs deciding to take a sip of the perfectly made coffee. He made it just right and the way I like it, but it scares me knowing that after what happened yesterday night he still did it for me. Is he catching feelings again?

“Sweetheart, hey.” I cringe slightly at the name and I can practically feel his heart race at my reaction. He’s right here in front of me, calling me sweetheart and cooking breakfast after what happened yesterday? Unacceptable.

“I mean-- y/n.” it’s no secret he’s mentally face palming himself right now but i honestly find it adorable that he did that by just seeing my reaction.

“y/n, I'm sorry. I don't know what happened yesterday but I know that you’re infuriated by it and now won't talk to me. You even hate ‘sweetheart’ and I've called you that since we were like what? 14? I just don't want things to get weird between us, you’re my best friend, eren is my literal brother and Annie is my girlfriend. I just hope you aren't mad at me. I swear I'm not going to try anything of any sort. I'm going to Mikasa and Historia's place after breakfast, just wanted to do something as a thank you before i leave.” he ranted and i giggles softly when he finished, he;s so flustered by the time he’s done i find it a miracle he remembered to breath.

“Armin, you can stay as long as you want, honestly, don't worry about what happened. In fact, nothing happened at all, we’re best friends and I don't want to lose that. The nickname is very much acceptable, don't worry, I know you’re used to it.” he smiled and nodded then pulled me into a mug as i hugged back as the coffee mug in my hand jiggled.

We lug back from each other and beam at one another. Nothing wrong happened yesterday, why am I so worried?

——————-——————-——————-————-

“How was your day, angel?” Eren's deep voice filled my ear as I held the phone in a hand, the other picking out jewelry.

“Uneventful, me and Armin just spent the day together, Annie isn't answering him and he’s too scared to actually go there in case she kicks him out again or, worse,  breaks up with him.”

“I feel bad for him, I mean he didn't do anything really, maybe he should really go and test his luck.”

“Yeah, I think that’s the best option right now. He's trying to get ready, asked for a couple of your rings ‘cause he knows it’s something she likes.” he chuckles on the other end as a light laughter comes over me.

“Really want to swoon her over.”  he adds

“Found it!” i exclaimed as i found the set of rings that were just perfect for armin, they fit him perfectly and his style too, “Okay, let’s find him now.”

“Armin?” he pops into my room within a second with a tux put on (it looked really nice, may i add), he really cleaned up well; yet, his hair is still a mess. He can't do anything about his hair even if he tries.

“Here it is.” I call and he moves over to me as he takes the box with the set in it. He tries to pu it on but looks at me with wide eyes,

“What?”

“How do you even put all that on? That’s going to look horrible.”

“Are you doubting my skills, Arlert?” I test and eren laughs from the other side.

“Is that a challenge, jaeger? Okay then, I'll prove you both wrong.” they both chuckle and i take armin’s hand in mine, starting to move around the rings. It took three minutes but I did it, I got the best combination and how to put it. He looked great in my opinion.

“Woah, y/n, I seriously didn't give you enough credit.” Armin lets out a breath and I smile at his compliment.

“Okay time to send to eren!” I take my phone off of the table that has all of our jewelry on it then snap him a picture.

“You've done well, pretty girl.” he flatters once again and I smirk proudly.

“See? I told you guys.” Armin nods as eren hums and we both burst out in laughter suddenly.

“Okay, it’s getting late. Thank you for everything y/n, I couldn't have done any of this without you, not to mention I'd probably be homeless.” I nod and smile at him as he leaves the house. 

Everything, somehow, worked out in the end.

“Baby?”

“Yeah…” i answer, putting away the rest of the jewelry.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[animedaddymilkers]

Kinkmas 2020: Day 21

Prompt: Yandere/Spanking w/ Inoichi

Genre: Smut/18+ || Tags: Yandere, Mutual Pining, Implied Stalking, Mild Dubcon, Spanking, Penetrative Sex, Aftercare || Characters: Inoichi Yamanka, Female Reader || read it on ao3 here

this fic contains yandere and mild dubcon themes, if that makes you uncomfortable please do not read!

With a content sigh, you unlocked the front door to your apartment, a slight fuzziness blurring your vision and limbs thanks to the alcohol coursing through your veins. Your keys were discarded into the cutesy trinket tray, your shoes kicked off into the ever-growing pile nearby. The date was an okay one, nothing extremely exciting but, hey, he was cute and it was a fun time. It may have sounded obnoxious when said out loud, but no men your age interested you. Not like you didn't give a plethora of them chances, and you still made friends with most of them. You just never seemed to form that romantic attachment you craved so desperately. What that said about your mental health wasn't totally lost on you, but not like you could (or wanted) to do a whole lot about it.

The sweater covering your shoulders was thrown onto a chair, your constricting belt quickly following as you made your way to your bedroom. At first, you didn't notice it, didn't notice anything at all. You simply continued walking on past the kitchen and living room, into your bedroom where you stripped your shirt and pants off. Trudging back out to the bathroom in your underwear and bra, your brows furrowed. You didn't remember turning one of the lights on… Chalking it up to the kitchen stove light you always left on, you continued your mission of brushing your teeth and face. When you came back out of the bathroom, you headed to the kitchen for a glass of water, freezing when you saw a figure sitting in one of your chairs, contently reading a book.

"S-Sir?!" the big kitchen light was on, illuminating the stoic face of one of Konoha's strongest shinobi.

The older blond man placed his book down, seeming annoyed it took you this long to notice him before he started with a huff, "I pay all my employees well, even ones as low down on the ladder as you. One would think that allows for better locks. And it's about time you arrived home, considering you have work tomorrow, no?"

Confusion was about the only emotion you could feel as your boss all but scolded you, besides the dull horny you always felt when it came to the man in front of you, though you suppressed that part for now, "Better wha- What the hell are you doing in my house?!"

Inoichi stood slowly, towering over you and making you regret the harsh tone you used, "Because it seems you forgot whom you belong to, dearest rosebud."

Besides the fact that his reply gave you more questions than answers, you silently gasped at the pet name he used. It was the same pet name your secret admirer had been using for you. You never saw the constant flower bouquets, food deliveries, or expensive gifts as harmful. They were, if anything, an ego boost to you thus far. All delivered to you with the sweetest notes, describing how ethereal you were, and always addressing you as rosebud, albeit also sounding a bit possessive. Additionally, in the six months, you had been receiving gifts, you hadn't been on any dates, instead choosing to focus on your new career supporting the Torture and Interrogation Department. A career that found you moving up the ladder fast, though you were still just doing menial tasks. Briefly, you wondered how much Inoichi had to do with those promotions, but he took a step towards you, cupping your face in his hand, and tore you from your thoughts.

"I think it's about time you come home. To your true home, don't you?"

Your heart thumped loudly in your throat and you nodded against your better judgment, "I do."

The smile you were met with sent a warm tingle through your body, and you returned a smile of your own. Inoichi nodded and picked his book up from the table, his other hand patting the top of your head. The silent praise had your chest swelling with pride for some reason unknown to you. It should have alarmed you how easily you accepted his offer, though you rationalized that you didn't have much choice, fearing that if you rejected him the trained ninja would take you anyways. Better to go willingly than be taken by force, right? Well, that and you were still a bit tipsy.

Before long, you were tucked snugly into the side of the blond man, his arm wrapped protectively around you. The route to his home was longer than it should have been, you suspected he was purposely avoiding the main streets. Being a high ranking shinobi taking a girl home during the early hours of the morning would raise questions. Especially a girl that worked under him. His warm touch was protecting you from the cold and the smell of his expensive cologne was intoxicating. It had you snuggling into his side more, an act which made him smile, he knew his rosebud wouldn't deny him. This definitely proved you deserved a present larger than anything he gifted you previously.

The Yamanaka clan complex was expansive and the main house was nothing to sneeze at either, easily dwarfing your apartment several times over. He led you inside, showing you around and you took notice of how similar his place was to yours. Not in the layout or big furniture pieces, but he had the same type of napkins, your favorite drinks, even your shampoo in his bathroom which you assumed was his daughter's. It didn't dawn on you until he took you on a tour of his room just how deep you were in. In his room, you found clothing that was unmistakably yours, items that had gone missing months ago and some just last week. They ranged from shirts and leggings to underwear and even a pillowcase. You tried not to take note of how some pieces were stained with white spots. Uneasiness began to grow in your gut as you wondered what exactly you had gotten yourself into when your phone buzzed with a notification. You pulled it out, only to have Inoichi take it from you and punch in your passcode.

His face soured, "You really think that lowlife deserves a second date? Before you give me even <em>one</em>? Disgusting."

Your date from earlier must have texted back after you replied you wanted to see him again. He was about to slide your phone onto the dresser when it began to ring. If the scowl on his face told you anything, it was, unfortunately, your date calling. The guy did say he preferred talking over text and at the time, you didn't mind, but now, it was really rather annoying.

"Answer it. Reject him. Reject him like you know you want to," the direction was clear and stern, leaving no room for discussion as he thrust the phone in your direction.

Nervously, you took the device from him and answered the call. Rejecting someone, in general, was an anxiety-inducing task, but to have an overbearing admirer glare you down while doing so was all the more nerve-wracking. Your voice wavered slightly as you talked and although Inoichi still frowned, his hands played through your hair, skimming the ends of your locks. The guy on the other end was rightfully confused while you explained you never wanted to see him again because just an hour ago you texted you were looking forward to it. Part of you hoped he would pick up on the odd behavior and come after you, but the realistic part of your brain told you the boy was too daft and a measly coward. The opposite of the man in front of you.

Once the call was complete the smile returned to the blonde's face, "Good flower! I knew you wanted to be with me. But-," his face fell again, a look of complete seriousness that made you swallow hard, "I can't forgive your little indiscretion. Not yet. It seems you need a punishment to truly remind you of whom you belong to, rosebud."

Your face grew cold at the implications, yet still, you allowed Inoichi to lead you towards the bed. He sat on the edge and patted his expansive thighs, hardened with all the training he did. You should be refusing, should be running far, far away from this situation. But, it was too tempting. How many times does the man you fantasize about return your affections so vigorously? Additionally, a spanking from him sounded like time well spent and you did deserve it for trying to date someone else when you were meant for him. You laid yourself across his legs, the pants you haphazardly put on before leaving being tugged down to your knees. His hands caressed your backside, massaging your ass cheeks before giving a playful swat to them.

"Count them. If you lose count we start over. We'll stop when I think you've learned your lesson. Got it?"

You nodded before squeaking out a, "Yes, daddy."

The name seemed to both please and shock the man, as his hand stalled in mid-air before he grinned. Then, he brought his hand down to your cheek, prompting you to call out the number. A second smack was quick to follow onto the other cheek along with a third, his hands only stalling to hear you mutter out the number. Thankfully, he was merciful in his technique, alternating cheeks and making sure to smack the untouched parts of your backside. A couple even landed harshly on your folds, the wetness gathering there only intensifying the pleasure-pain you felt. After spank thirty, it was hard to find an area that wasn't welting up, and so he went over the areas he already smacked. It made it all the more sensitive as your legs jerked slightly and hands clutched at the comforter beneath you. Your ass was raw and bleeding slightly in a few places, yet still, his hands struck you, enjoying each conflicted whine that left your mouth.

At fifty, you prayed he would be finished, but he kept on spanking, making sure to land more smacks over your pussy. He'd make comments that were a mix of degrading praise about how wet you were for him and how well he was going to fuck you. The promise of being railed by the ever-growing hard-on beneath you was the only thing keeping you from begging him to stop. You were determined to be a good girl for your daddy, despite the burning pain you felt on your rear. Somewhere in the midst of the sixties, you actually came on his hand after he smacked your pussy again, earning rumbling praise from the man above you. Finally, at seventy-five, he stopped, most likely because his hands were sore at this point too. Your reprieve was capitalized by him affectionately rubbing and massaging your abused cheeks as if it pained him to hurt you. Without restraint, you whined into his chest as he held you, hips grinding down against his.

He laughed softly and kissed along your jaw, "Have you learned your lesson? Are you ready to accept me as your one and only?"

"Yes, I've learned my lesson, daddy. You're the only one I want in my life. Now and always, please never leave me," you held onto his shirt as you locked gazes with him, your best puppy dog eyes on display.

They worked their intended magic, as you could see his expression soften almost immediately, "Good little blossom. I'll never leave your side and you'll never leave mine. Especially not after we become one, petal."

The notion was intoxicating, being loved by someone so much they'd do anything for you. But right now, the love you needed was physical and with the goal dangling right above your head, you were desperate to reach it. Your hands slid under his shirt and peeled it off, your own being removed soon after. Within a flash, you both were naked and kissing each other feverishly. Inoichi laid back on the bed's pillows, admiring the sight of you perched atop him. You didn't mind being on top, taking the advantage to push his cock into you quickly. As you sank down on him, his hands stroked up and down your thighs, giving a testing thrust up into you. You sat on his cock as much as your body would allow and without hesitation, began to bounce yourself on him. He sighed in pleasure as you wrapped around him so perfectly, telling you he expected nothing less from his perfect rosebud. The praise drove you wild, finally getting the recognition you deserved, albeit in the form of compliments on your sex technique.

When your thigh muscles began to clam up from overuse he laid your body down on top of him. His thick arms wrapped around your torso and he wasted little time in thrusting up into you. Hands caressed your shoulders and he locked gazes with you, unable to tear his eyes away from your face. In the midst of your passionate throes, Inoichi couldn't help but get lost in your otherworldly beauty, only the noises you made and the movement of his hips kept him grounded. It felt like your pussy was made for him, wrapping around him so perfect and driving him insane, he had trouble restraining himself from fucking into you harder. His lips met yours fiercely, kissing and holding onto you like you might disappear at any time. You put a hand on his cheek as you kissed him back and snaked a hand down between your bodies to rub at your clit. Though, your hand was soon removed, being replaced by one of Inoichi's, who explained he was determined to be the one who pleased you. As if you'd have any qualms about that.

His surprisingly smooth fingertips rubbed at your clit and with the constant feeling of his cock pounding against your cervix, you quickly came a second time. Yet still, his fingers kept moving, only stopping for a brief moment to let you ride out your high. The look on his face let you know he was close to orgasm himself, the blush covering his cheeks made your own heat up. Seeing the older blond man so lost in ecstasy, lost in your body, was absolutely pussy clenching. He groaned and held onto you tighter, his face burying into your neck as he moaned your name. The number of times you imagined him calling out your name in pleasure had absolutely nothing on the real thing. You whined into his chest and dug your nails into his shoulder, relishing in the way his cock pounded into your hole, hitting the same spot over and over. Every little thing was mind-blowing when added together and when you heard Inoichi announce he was cumming inside of you, you easily spiraled into another orgasm of your own. You clenched around his twitching cock, milking him for all he was giving you.

After you coaxed a second orgasm from Inoichi you let him pull out, both panting hard and nearly passed out. Yet somehow, he managed to get you into the bathtub and cleaned you up, personally washing you as he whispered constant praises in your ear. You nearly fell asleep like that, if it wouldn't have been for the cold surrounding you once the water was drained. Inoichi sat you down in front of the vanity after he dried your body and affectionately brushed your hair while blow-drying it. Again, the attention and repetitive actions almost put you to sleep, your daddy coaxing you awake with kisses to your jaw. He instructed you to pick out something to wear in the closet while he waited for you in the bed. You assumed he meant to pick something of his to wear for the night, but once you entered the expansive walk-in closet, it all became a bit too clear. The wall opposite of what you assumed was Inoichi's was filled with clothes that fit your exact aesthetic. A few flips through and it confirmed, they were all in your size, some items were exact copies of things you had in your closet, others literal things that you had gone missing. The sight should have disgusted you, creeped you out, something. But looking at the wall of clothes and shoes all you could think of was how thoughtful it was of him to so thoroughly prepare for you moving in.

hope you enjoyed! remember likes & reblogs help me reach more people! :D

[darling-i-read-it]

Secretary

Patrick Bateman x reader

Word Count: 1.2k 

Warnings: murder 

Author’s Note: Y’all asked and y’all shall receive. I’m sorry I don’t open requests for Patrick that much but I’m like WAY to protective of his image and his character i don’t believe in doing any kind of regular fluff with him so I’m super picky. 

Summary: You’re Paul Allens secretary and you are much better than Jean 

Genre: m u r d e r 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

(not my gif)

Most people that worked or lived around Patrick Bateman rarely gave him a second glance. In fact, he had done that almost on purpose. It was easier for him to be mistaken for Marcus Halberstram than be known as Patrick Bateman. That way he could fit in and fly under the radar.

You gave him a second thought. Which wasn’t all that it was chalked up to be when it came down to it. People always thought that being noticed was this big thing but for Patrick it was like a stab in a gut, especially when things started to get bad. 

You worked in the office with him but you only saw each other every once in a while. You happened to be Paul Allen's secretary which was the kicker because he needed to get Allen out of the picture. He started to work up ways that he could do that while involving you, some way to get you on his side just enough because he knew that you knew where Paul was at all times. He pretended not to be jealous that Paul’s secretary was so diligent while Jean rarely knew past dinners and lunches. 

This was where the annoyance of being noticed stepped in.

See, you knew he was Patrick and not Marcus. He had to get Paul alone but also near a room where Marcus was so that when Paul told you he was going to dinner with Marcus you would believe him. You were focused and hot and Patrick figured if he had to he could probably kill you but he would rather avoid the mess.

You sat at your desk and Jean was sitting on top of your desk, talking to you about something quickly. The conversation looked interesting and it did peak Patrick's interests. What things did secretaries talk about? Was Jean gossiping about him? Better yet, were you gossiping about Paul and the Fisher account?

He walked up to the two of you and Jean quickly stood up, nearly stumbling over on her heels. 

“You’re supposed to be at lunch with Craig Mcdermott Patrick,” she said. He let out a sigh.

“I cancelled that lunch two days ago.” He had not. Craig was probably still sitting in the seats of the Texarkana waiting for him and he would no doubt get a call soon that he had stood him up but he didn’t care. 

“Oh,” Jean muttered and then went to double check her notes in her planner she was holding. Patrick turned to you.

“Hi babe, can you tell me where Paul is supposed to be tomorrow night?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Why would I do that?” 

“Because I asked you to,” he said through gritted teeth. He wasn’t a fan of people talking back to him especially when you were at a much lower position. He tried to be civil though to get what he wanted.

You glanced at the planner.

“He’s having dinner with Marcus Halberstram. Why?” 

“Ah, I was hoping to catch him. Thank you Y/N,” he said, nodding slowly and then putting on his sunglasses. You noted that it wasn’t a particularly sunny day outside but let him walk away.

The day he killed Paul his mind was on you. Well it wasn’t exactly on you but you crossed his mind and it made him worry a little bit that he hadn’t covered his tracks as well as he thought he had.

When he showed up at your door you had just gotten home from work, finishing up some things that Paul hadn’t finished himself. You looked at him, a raincoat in his hand, folded together and a crazed look in his eyes. He gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes at all, the fakeness of it oozing off of his lips. 

“Patrick?” He looked confused for a split second and then realized that was in fact his name. He had gotten used to answering to Marcus.

“Yes?” You waited for him to explain why he was here and when he didn’t you leaned against the door.

“Patrick what are you doing here?”

You lived a few floors down but in the same building as Paul which is how he got your address so easily. He had just left the body up there and a voice mail and he couldn’t even answer with something that would make sense. 

“Is Paul here?”

“No, he’s at dinner with Marcus. I told you that yesterday.” He nodded, looking up and down the empty hallway. 

“Can I come in?” You were utterly confused but you had no reason to turn him in.

“Sure.”

You moved aside and he walked in behind you to the living room that was directly in front of the door. He looked around and was delighted to see that while your apartment was civil and modern looking it was nowhere near as expensive as his.

“Do you want me to hang that up?” you asked, pointing to the rain coat. He looked down at it and laughed dryly. 

“Negative. Throw it away.” You snorted and shrugged.

“Alright, it’s your coat.” 

You took it from him and he ventured further into your apartment. You unfolded it a bit and found it stained with a sticky red substance that seemed to splatter around. You ignored that and put it in the garbage, pushing it out of your mind.

“Why do you need to see Paul so bad?” you asked. “Maybe I could help you out, I know a lot of what he does.”

“Do you want to work for me?” he asked, turning around from your wall of windows. He thought briefly about the fact that people in the building across the way could probably see you changing with such big windows. The safety of that was slim.

“I work for Paul,” you explained.

“Paul was telling me that he had to go to London for an indefinite amount of time.” He looked more relaxed now than when he had come in but you couldn’t shake the look on his face so you didn’t let your guard down.

“What about Jean?”

“Fired her. Yesterday.” You scoffed, leaning against the back of the couch.

“Why?”

“She wasn’t as good as you.”

“Patrick you’re acting weird.”

“I just killed your boss.”

“Patrick don’t make jokes.” You walked around the couch and sat on the arm of it. “I’ll talk to Paul if I can and then get back to you tomorrow. I assume he’s going to be drunk tonight though so you’ll have to be patient.” 

Patrick gave you the award winning, charming and unsettling playboy grin. 

“I’m plenty patient.”

[thefanficmonster]

Stargazing

Ethan Winters x Mia Winters (Resident Evil Biohazard)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Summary: A year after the events that took place at the Bakers’ residence and the three years of Mia being missing, the Winters spouses have finally been healed enough to start getting back into a regular lively rhythm, nevertheless haunted by the nightmare they lived through. 

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Sorry you’ve had to wait so long for your request but here it finally is! They deserved so much better and I’ll never stop saying that! Sorry for the brief rant, still, hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

Holding Ethan’s hand tightly, Mia follows his instructions to keep her gaze down at the ground and avoid looking up as much as possible. She’s been having a hard time containing the smile on her face, biting her bottom lip a lot to prevent it from showing. Same as she’s had a hard time keeping quiet with her guessing games of where Ethan’s taking her. The man’s unbreakable though, never once was he tempted to let her in on what he’s planned.

It’s been a year since the Baker incident and all the couple has done is switch from one coping mechanism to another. They got stuck in a sort of therapy-work-therapy cycle where they threw themselves in their work and periodically went to their psychiatric appointments, never daring to nudge the topic at home amongst themselves. It was enough that the whole night has remained as a dark cloud hanging over their heads, addressing it has simply been to painful so they’ve steered clear of the topic the best they could.

However, an important thing to note about this coping cycle they created is that it drove all the other mechanics in their lives and their relationship to become routinely and mechanic as well. There was little to no feeling in all they did - not that they ever did much together except have dinner and sometimes breakfast, both of them fully indulged in their work the rest of the day. Work became their therapy eventually, leaving little time for one another and for fixing what’s been broken between them. This conclusion bothered them both to no end but neither wanted to address it out of fear of disturbing the other.

Luckily, Ethan didn’t feel the need to bring it up before taking action.

“Here we are!“ He announces eventually, causing Mia to snap her head upwards without a second to spare, curious eyes doing the best they can to take in the dark surroundings. 

Surprisingly enough, she doesn’t have any problem with the dark. What happened back in Louisiana didn’t give her a phobia of the dark or of ships as her therapist initially thought she’d develop. However, she’s got a huge fear of bugs and insects now - especially mosquitos. Count on her husband carrying anti bug spray wherever they go - now is no exception.

As her eyes slowly adjust to the darkness of their surroundings, it doesn’t take her a while to realize they’re in an open yet secluded field. She’s not the slightest bit surprised by where he’s taken her, in fact, she recognizes it immediately. It’s the spot of their first official date.

“Who knew going to that dorm party would be the best thing I’d do in my life.“ He mumbles under his breath, admiring the sparkles in her eyes as she takes in the beautiful field bit by bit, letting the reel of memories play back, taking her all the way back to that first year of college, that fateful night when they met, followed by the night they came to this field.

“Who knew overcoming my fear of heights at an early age would’ve helped me find the man I’d eventually marry.“ She replies, turning to look at him, their gazes locking in place, both of them no reminiscing on those events they hadn’t recalled in a very long time.

2006

The humidity doesn’t suggest that the summer months have already ended. In fact, the air is still as unbreathable as it was in July and August, making the students who have to return to their studies super conflicted, longing for those beach days with little to no responsibilities. Given that no one is ready for the school year to start, the professors included, the first few weeks of college have been rather stress-free for Ethan. Well, that is if you don’t include the agony of moving into college as a freshman from an entirely different state.

Why he chose to go to college in Texas is a question he still doesn’t have a proper answer to. It was an impulsive, basically overnight decision, one that rattled his parents to no end when he announced it. However, having his own income and savings for college purposes, they couldn’t really do much in stopping him but they didn’t support him either. They kept trying to change his mind until the very last day but alas he stood his ground and now here he is, in his college dorm, trying to read a book while there’s a raging party going on just two floors above. The music is so loud though that is sounds more like it’s taking place in his closet instead. 

His roommate went up to help set the party up, only putting mild effort into getting his Cali-boy roommate to tag along and join the shenanigans which Ethan appreciated. Parties have never really been his scene so he knew he would’ve kept refusing no matter how much he tried getting him up there.

Finding the read hopeless due to the distractions, Ethan ditches the book and lays back on his bed staring at the ceiling, feeling like a fish out of water, ready to suffocate any minute. The AC in the dorm is faulty so it’s not serving its purpose properly, leaving the air at the same temperature as it would be had the device not been turned on at all. He’s stranded on things to do, feeling awfully caged in this new environment without any proper entertainment, going even as far as to second-guess if his parents were maybe right all along.

Fortunately for him, just then, his roommate bursts in, humming along to the song that’s currently being played at the party, never missing a tune even in his clearly intoxicated state.

“Hey Winters, aren’t you Californians supposed to know of a good time? You’re disappointing me right now.“ Jared slurs, laughing a bit as he leans against the wall to keep himself to his feet.

Ethan can’t help but scoff, “Thought I’d be a party animal? Sorry for the letdown.”

Jared laughs, shaking his head, “Come on, Cali. You have two semesters to be sulking around, it’s too early to start. Listen, one beer and thirty minutes, that’s all I’m asking you for. If you like it you can stick around. If not, feel free to leave. Just please give it a shot. How else are you supposed to make friends?”

Ethan stops to contemplate for a second, weighing his options. Jared takes this as a hopeful sign, seeing as how his offer wasn’t immediately turned down as it was the first time. Finally, the blond sighs in defeat: “Ok, but thirty minutes only.“ He says as he slides off the bed, briefly looking at himself in the mirror and deeming his appearance decent enough for a dorm party. As a very new student, he’d like to make a good first impression on his classmates but given that they’re all probably wasted, he’s not stressing too much over his looks at the moment.

Following Jared up to the floor of the party, he’s immediately handed a beer which he accepts with little hesitation. His roommate goes around introducing him to a few people before he disappears with some girl he claims has been his on-again-off-again girlfriend since sophomore year of high school - Sarah. Ethan, of course, doesn’t stop him despite hating the ide of finding himself stuck alone in a crowd of people he’s seeing for the first time in his life. Still, he sticks to the deal: thirty minutes and a beer...ok, two beers, but they’ve done nothing to make him enjoy this party.

So, off he goes to search for Jared to tell him he’s leaving. Thinking he saw the dark haired girl he went off with going up the stairs to the roof, he quickly follows.

Little does he know, that’s not the dark haired girl he’s looking for. That’s Mia

Mia, the rowdy, outgoing Texas tomboy who, unlike Ethan, thoroughly enjoys going to parties and having a good time with her friends and a few drinks. However, even a party animal such as herself sometimes needs to take a breather especially when people are smoking cigarettes as though they’re inhaling air and she’s never tried a cigarette in her life and is actually quite against the idea. She found this rooftop to be her prefect hideaway whenever she felt like her surroundings would suffocate her. Students were strictly instructed that climbing up there would earn them a penalty but that didn’t bother her in the slightest - She’s been frequenting the roof already and it’s been barely a week of her fresh start in college. Luckily, she got over her fear of heights at the tender age of twelve so this journey to quite a high point doesn’t pose as much stress as it would’ve about a decade ago.

As she lies on the floor, looking up at the starry night sky above, she nearly jumps out of her skin when another voice calls out to her presumably though it’s not using the correct name.

“Hey, um, S-Sarah? Have you seen Jared?“ 

Mia turns her head as she sits up, one eyebrow raised as she takes a good look at the silhouette which this voice belongs to. It’s pretty dark so even if she knew him, she wouldn’t be able to recognize him but judging by the voice, this is not someone she’s familiar with. And judging by the accent, this guy is not from around here.

“I’m not Sarah, but if you’re looking for Jared Letterwood, I can guarantee he’s in Sarah’s dorm.“ Mia chuckles, “I’d know. Sarah’s my roommate.“

Ethan cringes at the thought, “Yikes, you’ve got it rough. I mean, Jared’s my roommate but so far I haven’t had to leave the dorm for him to...you know. Hope I never have to.” Suddenly, an idea strikes him, “Wait, where are you gonna sleep tonight?”

She laughs, lying back down with her arms folded behind her head, “Right here.” She drags out the words as she adjusts her position a little, eyes fluttering closed. “Stargazing helps me fall asleep. The whole ambience up here is just...perfect, you know. Jared and Sarah are really doing me a favor.”

Ethan can’t help but scoff, “Call me crazy, but I’ve never stargazed in my life. I don’t know, never really saw the whole appeal. Sure, it’s cool to see in a movie or whatever, but it’s got no real purpose in real life. Not that I’m trying to bash your hobby or anything...”

Before the clueless blond could finish his statement, Mia’s already snapped up in a sitting position, giving him a narrow-eyed glare he can’t really see in the darkness. Her hand taps the spot next to her, “Don’t knock until you try it, Cali boy. Come’ere, see what you’re missing out on.”

Though reluctant, Ethan takes a few steps forward, stopping for a second to ask: “Wait, how’d you know I’m Californian?” Regardless of his confusion, he sits his ass down as he was told, awkwardly laying down so that there’s half a foot or less between their bodies so he doesn’t accidentally touch her and run the risk of freaking her out.

“I know a lot of things, Cali. Unfortunately, your name isn’t one of them. That being said, either you tell me it, or I’ll have to keep calling you Cali.“ She says teasingly.

“Ethan. My name’s Ethan.“ He says through a sigh, unable to contain the smile that spreads across his face.

A smile mimicking his appears on her face as well, “Nice to meet you, Ethan. The name’s Mia.“

Needless to say, the following morning Ethan woke up still on the roof, and surprisingly and terrifyingly enough, with the girl he barely met the night prior in his arms. Under the light of the newly rising day he could examine her features better, taking in her absolute beauty, her pale features contrasting her dark as the night hair. She’s still asleep so he can’t see her eyes but he has no doubt they are as beautiful as she is. Everything about her looks so delicate yet sharp simultaneously. And he’s simply in awe.

To avoid any awkwardness in case she wakes up, he falls back asleep, not even trying to remove his arms from around her body, silently hoping she won’t kick his ass for it. The next time he wakes up, an undecided amount of time later, he’s alone on the rooftop. Alone with a note that says: ‘Did you like it? If yes, I got a better stargazing spot to show ya. You know where to find me 

 ~ M‘

“And boy, was I missing out on something.“ Ethan whispers, gently running his fingers through his wife’s hair as they lay in that same field she was referring to in her note to him, gazing up at the stars, limbs intertwined, bodies completely collided.

“Told ya. Stargazing is incredible, ain’t it?“ Mia replies, snuggling closer though that’s simply impossible.

Her husband chuckles, his chest rumbling with the noise, “That’s not really what I meant.”

Her brows furrow but she doesn’t look at him, “Oh? Then what did you mean?”

With a content sigh, he replies, “I was missing out on having you in my arms, falling asleep and waking up by your side.“ He says, his lips planting a gentle kiss at the top of her head that has her melting in his embrace.

Mia’s not the romantic nor cheesy half of this relationship, quite the opposite, but she feels emotions to a way deeper level than Ethan would imagine her feeling. So, thankful to the darkness, Mia allows her eyes to gloss over with emotional tears as she rises up to collide her lips with his in a soft and tender kiss. 

“I missed you so much, Mia.“ Ethan whispers when they pull away, foreheads resting against each other.

“I promise to never make you miss me again, baby.“ She replies in a tone as hushed as his. As though they are both afraid someone would overhear this vow of theirs and try to force them to break it.

“That’s impossible.“ He says with a soft chuckle, “I always miss you at least a little.“

Mia hums in response, “Well, right now, you don’t have to miss me at all. I’m all yours. You’re the only thing on my mind, Mr. Winters.“

Even in the dark, she sees the grin that lights up his face, “As you are the only thing on mine, Mrs. Winters.” With that, their lips reestablish their contact, this time maintaining it longer, making it more passionate than before.

[xxtraord1nary]

His Kiss of Life

Fandom: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!mc (Charlotte West)

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: My preferred genre is smut and I’m okay with that. THIS IS A REPOST!

Summary: A tedious work gala takes a sensual turn and becomes a hot night filled with passion and heated restroom affairs.

Warnings: Cursing, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex.

Taglist: @katkart122 @missmiimiie @maurine07 @romewritingshop @custaroonie @lucas-rennells @omgfheishot @schnitzelbutterfingers @openheartfanfics

Charlotte and Ethan and the rest of their colleagues had to attend a mandatory work function and make “connections” for better funding for the hospital much to his dismay. He wasn’t particularly in the business of begging old stuffy socialites for money but Charlotte on the other hand was an absolute pro at it her charisma and beauty truly entranced the crowd that had formed around her as she retold a comical story of her youth involving her brothers and something about a spray paint can. Unfortunately on the other hand for Ethan he couldn’t focus on anything but the long slit going up her exposed toned mocha thighs and the open back of the form fitting midnight black dress she donned exquisitely. It was gorgeous on her and may have been seen as a little much from the scowls of some of the bitter women at the bar but it truly was elegantly sexy. The way it came down over her natural flared hips and flowed gracefully at her feet made her look as stunningly unreal. She was truly an ethereal and rare beauty and it was known by not just him but everyone in the large tastefully decorated ballroom.

Nursing his scotch by the bar he continued admiring the woman who haunted his dreams with her dark eyes and bright smile he watched on as the crowd dispersed and his lover secured more than enough pocket books to make up for everyone’s lackluster excuse for trying to do what she did. He could tell from his place a bit away leaning against the wet bar that now she was bored she always loved socializing till her “social battery” ran out as she called it and that was obviously the case right now. Ethan really tuned in at this point because she’d surely find a way to entertain herself and that had him on the edge of her seat; unpredictability was who she was after all.

As if she could feel his focused gaze burning into her more than generous backside she sensually turned and sent him an just as intense look with a slow smirk rising to her full crimson painted lips she made her way to the table where she’d left her belongings. As she picked up her phone and typed something presumably a message she couldn’t help but to hold eye contact between them not awkward at all but filled with unbridled lust. His phone dinged with a notification and he nearly jumped as it shaked him out of his stupor he almost didn’t break their gaze till another ding caused him to grab his phone annoyed at their “moment” being interrupted. That was until he saw the message was in fact from her.

Charlotte: Guess what I’m thinking right now. Okay, I’ll give you a hint. It involves my tongue and you naked.

Charlotte: I feel like something is missing from life. Namely you between my legs.

Ethan was a man of confidence and in his every move always oozed self assurance but now he was a blubbering mess of a man at a complete loss and his mouth had never been dryer. As shocked as he was, he had to admit this was such a Charlotte thing to do, and he meant it in the nicest way possible if that could be said but this woman was truly a freak. He couldn’t bring his fingers to type anything back, what the hell does one even say in response to this.

Charlotte gentle mohogany eyes held a tone of mischief and her misleading smirk was one of amuesement she always felt the best part of their relationship was tipping the scales and really keeping him on his toes. She almost felt bad at his flustered state but quickly shook it off it was too comical seeing such a composed man be left to no more than a heated mess of lust and wanting, teasing was truly her speciality. After all the chase was the best part. When she once more caught his eye she held a air of sensuality around her and decided that she needed to take things a step forward, she knew well he wouldn’t. With confident long strides she made her way to the bar “Red.” she told the bartender settling herself right in a seat next to a still stunned Ethan Ramsey. Sipping slowly from her glass he couldn’t help but be entranced by everything she did and followed every move of hers. Determined to take it a step further she caressed his hand left on the bar top with her long manicured to perfection ivory nails that contrasted beautifully with her smooth brown skin. The simple touch sent sweet shivers through his body and he longed for more once she withdrew and resumed her drinking.

“Rookie-” he started before she looped her nimble fingers through the belt loops of his slacks and pulled him with a purpose. “I know what you’re gonna say, and truthfully I don’t care.” she muttered into the crook of his neck where she left a chaste kiss and a small bite that made him wince which she soothed with her warm tounge. “God she was forward” he thought. And he’d be a damn bloody liar if he said he didn’t love it. Prior to meeting the temptress Ramsey was used to always being in charge in the bedroom no matter his partner, man or woman. He took control but Charlotte West was a wildcard and he’d soon learned he never truly knew what he was going to get and the spontaneity turned him on more than he could ever begin to describe.

“I’ll tell you how this is gonna go alright Doctor.” He groaned at the use of his title tumbling from her sweet full lips that he wanted so badly to have on him, every part of him. “You are not gonna give me that halfhearted lecture, you are going to keep me entertained. Okay?” She asked detaching her lips from his tender neck and staring him in his indigo blues. He could do no more than nod at a loss for words, or his brain simply couldn’t compute at the moment. “Meet me in the restroom in ten, your choice of course.” And with that she sashayed away with a small inconcealable smirk painted on her beautiful face as she knew he’d be there in five.

Left at a loss Ethan’s heart finally stopped its mission on trying to burst of his hard chest and his brain finally made sense of the situation and locating a clock on the wall he counted down the minutes. Back in the luxury restroom that could have been a swanky living room with a toilet and a sink. Not even three minutes late of her arrival she heard a two small raps of the hand against the large wood door. Swallowing her newfound nerves she carried herself to the door and opened it to reveal a stone faced Ramsey jaw muscles flexed in sexual frustration. “Look what we have here.” She pulled him inside by the lapels of his suit jacket and brought her silk like lips to whisper into his hear “I’m so glad you came, although I knew you would.” He couldn’t help the choked moan that struggled out of his throat as she ran her small hands up and down his toned abdomen and soon landed on his bulge that was almost bursting out of his black dress pants.

“Not more than me.” He rasped in a way that had her soaked and anxious to have him out of his pesky clothes. He finally got what he wanted most as he gripped her by the way back of her neck and wound his fingers in her mane of unruly coils nearly getting them stuck, but Charlotte couldn’t care less as he violently claimed her lips with his and sucked her bottom lip into his mouth with vigor. Her tounge made its way into his warm mouth causing him to moan aloud shamelessly as his hands made their way down to her backside and palmed with open hands all he could grab. In their heated passion she somehow had half the mind to push him backwards towards the fancy Italian leather couch settled against the wall.

His hands soon found their way under her dress palming her bare ass till he froze with realization, she wasn’t wearing anything under. He couldn’t believe it, almost as if she had planned this he chucked at her antics and she smiled knowingingly and a few giggles slip. “Dr. West you are surely one naughty girl.” He said whilst stroking her sensitive bud and spreading her wetness. This caused her moan aloud and in a sexy whisper,

“Punish me then.”

And that he did and by the seventh spank on her full backside she was a moaning mess wetter than before if possible she ground her hips into his generous hard on relentlessly poking her and much to her disdain he tossed her to the side of the couch but she soon perked up as she watched his impatiently snatch his belt his off and yank at his pants she happily took the place of his frantic hands and slowly worked his pants down along with his boxers. Sitting herself in a semi comfortable kneeling position she began to drag her nails down his thighs and ghosted her fulls lips right over the head of his throbbing member as she shamelessly admired her lover in all his naked glory. “What a view.” She thought to herself as she continued her perpetual teasing but Ethan didn’t mind he was drunk on a salacious high he never wanted to come down from.

“You know, I really like seeing you like this. All hot and bothered for me.” He moaned with satisfaction as she kneeled firmly gripped his pulsating member and stroked him slowly while placing chaste sweet kisses along the column of his neck he groaned when she sucked and bit as she went determined to mark what’s hers. As she should of course. Growing tired of the lack of not feeling more of her he shoved on the couch bringing a pleased grin to her face, she liked a rougher Ethan and he knew well as his cobalt blues to glint in mischief. He leered over her meager frame that in comparison to his was quite small. Winding his hand in her hair he pulled harshly and she soon found herself in his lap once again and it wasn’t long before her tight form fitting dress was stripped forcibly from her body “Take it off.” He rasped and she happily complied in the removal he once again claimed her lips roughly while tugging on her flaring hips. As much as she was enjoying the dominant and demanding Ethan she didn’t like the shift of control so quickly and looked for an upper hand.

But before she could even think of anything her thoughts were cut off with a strangled moan as he plunged himself deep inside her gripping onto her shoulders for leverage as he relentlessly pounded her into oblivion. She couldn’t even form words as he took her more than generous breast in his hands and kneeded one whilst suckling like a man starved on the other. Obscenities flew from Charlotte’s lips as she continued to be intoxicated by the ministrations of his blessed tongue and soon enough felt so hot she began to pleasure herself snaking a hand down to do so only to be stopped by a slap to the wrist. Her eye jerked open and sent him a fiery glare for not only stopping her but removing himself.

“You don’t get to do that, bad girls don’t get to pleasure themselves.” She was shocked to say the least but turned on all the same and couldn’t even begin to explain how good she felt at his words that almost made her moan all the while being scolded. “Well if I’m such a bad girl-” she cut herself off mid sentence and brought him in for a lip bruising kiss that left her shivering and him with numb lips from all the biting and sucking and finished with, “punish me then.” Before she could take a minute to gauge his reaction he began to leave welt raising slaps to her rear that left an excruciating stinging pain but just hurt so damn good she couldn’t help but to choke out a moan mixed with a sob.

After what made have been the twelfth slap, she didn’t know for sure the only thing she could focus on what the pleasureful sting she felt, she had no time to collect her bearings before he rammed himself mercilessly inside her with a low growl that made her want ride him into oblivion. He ran his free hand down her breast to her lower thigh and gripped all the brown skin and savored in the beauty that was her round and gracious behind and the beautiful glittery stretch that adored it perfectly. His other hand wound in her mane of unruly tendrils gripped for leverage as he lifted his hips to ruthlessly pounded into her so much so she felt, although the impossibility of it, that she’d leave this restroom with a rearranged cervix.

“God your perfect.” He groaned landing misplaced chaste kisses anywhere he could reach on her sweat glistening chest. “I bet.” She confidently responded with a smirk amidst her harsh pounding which only caused him to grin in response and pull harder on her crown of curls and if humanly possible enter her even rougher and harder. “That shut her right up.” he thought triumphantly. She hasn’t noticed it before but it was there a large vertical mirror with a perfect view of the ethans thrown back in ecstasy head and her body on full display. And there is truly nothing more erotic than watching yourself be brutally fucked by the man or your dreams and fantasies. Her chest shined with a sheen thin layer of sweat and she almost glowed from elation, thank god she went for a natural look involving only mascara and lipstick as she was a hot mess and could use a small touch up. But Ethan couldn’t care less he adores unruly sex hair that he couldn’t refrain from pulling and her mouth constantly wide open as the most alluring moans, groans and whimpers tumbled from his lover.

She watched on as she bounced on top of him and she’d be a damn liar if she said she wasn’t wetter than ever from the sight as she watched him and herself in such an intimate moment. Her nirvana was cut short by a sharp rap of knuckles against the large oak door separating the two passionate lovers from their dreary work function. Ethan’s calculated and punishing strokes never ceased much to Charlotte's dismay, he was shameless. He couldn’t possibly be turned on by the idea of being caught as he was the one that prided himself on his carefulness and keeping their relationship concealed. But maybe the older attending has been keeping some things to himself.

In particular a little fantasy exhibitonism. The idea of marking his territory with an audience was as enticing as ever as he watched the haughty stuck up socialites flirt shamelessly with his woman. Charlotte really should have known, he’d grown particularly fond of fucking her against his large floor to ceiling windows.

In response to the unsuspecting stranger Ethan hurriedly switched their positions into a kneeling one upon the couch with his front to her back and grabbed her arms from behind and again began to ruthlessly continue his assault. God he was amazing. Charlotte wasn’t a liar, she did have a little thing for older men. Not daddy issues or something but she just preferred experience and skill only a certain knowledgeable possessed. And that man was Ethan, this man scared her as he had successfully ruined her for any other man and weirdly she was okay with that.

“Hello, is anyone in there?” Came a smooth accented voice from the other side and although muffled Charlotte understood it perfectly. “Bryce!” She mentally cursed her horiness and the dilemma it got her in. Her attention snapped to Ethan as he too realized just who was at the door and he quieted her with an index finger to his lips but even then didn’t stop his stroking which slowed down to long and deep ones rather than hurried and brutal. After calling a few more times the sound of footsteps became few and far between indicating her good friend and ex-lover had left. Ethan, aware of the past relationship was glad at this and also a tad relieved he didn’t see a tinge of regret on his rookies face.

With a few more punishing strokes it was inevitable that they both climaxed and as they did her world went white and she gasped with pleasure while he could barely breathe as she gripped his neck for grounding and he quite liked the intoxicating feeling. Coming down from the high the gravity of the entire feverishly consuming ordeal at finally set upon them and unrestrained giggles flowed freely through her trembling body as she leaned forward and Ethan took the opportunity to just embrace her following their passion. “I can’t believe we had sex in a public restroom.” She sighed blissfully in his neck, chuckles from her warm breath tickling him every few seconds, she rubbed her hands down his abdomen feeling his toned pectorals all the way to his abs. “You surely are a wildcard, Dr. West.” he muttered, placing sweet kisses on the side of her beautiful face. How she could go from a complete sensual vixen to a adorable little teddy bear he would never know but was grateful all the same for his position. Here right now and just everyday with her in general.

“And you love it, Dr. Ramsey.” She knowingly grinned.

“That I do, rookie.” He sighed nuzzling her neck.

Eventually the two lovers knew they’d been gone far too long and they soon had to try and sneak back into the main hall and with that he got up and went to her purse where she always kept wet wipes and cleaned her up and with a strong calloused hand helped her to her feet and swayed her in the direction of her long abandoned gown and to the best of his ability helped her redress. Even in her tattered and wrinkled dress with wild coils adoring her head she still looked like the most flawless woman in the room.

God he was so whipped. And he truly didn’t mind.

She decided to go first and once bombarded with questions of her whereabouts for the past hour and a half by her roommates, or particularly a smirking Bryce and a worried sienna Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle at the fact that the scalpel jockey had probably a good idea at exactly what happened in that restroom. Ordering another scotch from the bar he absentmindedly stuck his free hand in his pocket and felt something unfamiliar he on instinct grabbed it out only to be stunned to silence once again by the woman so much so he almost choked on the burning liquid not so smoothly running down his throat.

He couldn’t believe it. Her racy black g-string was right in his hands and she had to have snuck it in his pocket when she handed him a fallen suit jacket. Once coming to term with what he was holding he quickly stuffed it in his pocket being reminded of the situation and setting. He looked up to meet her eyes across the large dining hall only to find her smirking devilishly and sending him a sultry wink.

A damn wink. She winked at him.

It was then they both realized, Ethan Ramsey was truly a damn goner.

Fin.

Thanks for reading.

[imaginationofacrazyfangirl]

{Metanoia}

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader, Older brother! Jimin x Reader, Hoseok x reader

*8k- ongoing

Genre: Enemies to lovers, childhood friends, major misunderstandings

Warnings: Thigh riding, Fingering, Oral (male receiving) 

Summary: The first time you meet Jungkook, he pushes you off the slide. Second time he calls you ugly. After that things continue spiraling downwards: he cuts your dolls’ heads off, tells everyone you’re a freak at school, spreads malicious rumors; Jungkook’s sole purpose in life is tormenting you. So why five years later is he insisting you two belong together?

Based on a prompt request  by @bangtaened-army​ turned fic. Sorry bangtaened-army for the wait, and the fact that I still haven’t touched the original requested prompt..

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  "I can't believe you would do this to me, Jiminie. After everything I have ever done for you. " you hiss into the phone. Your low voice does little not to garner the nosy looks of other people awaiting their luggage. Despite it being two am at an airport people never tired of drama, and you plotting the murder of your older brother could feed a whole TV show. See Jimin was supposed to pick you at the baggage claim. Keywords supposed to. However, instead of being greeted by your annoying yet lovable sibling you were greeted by someone just plain annoying. 

    "You're being dramatic, (Y/N). I sent Jungkook to pick you up, not Ted Bundy." Jimin replies dryly. Even through the phone you can tell he is rolling his eyes at you. He never understood your hatred towards Jungkook. To him, the dark haired boy is a sweet innocent boy who could do no wrong but you know better. The devil lives inside Jungkook. 

   "I would've preferred the serial killer. At least he'd be less of an ass-" Jungkook grabs the phone from your hand purposely shifting away so you can't take it back. Not that it makes much difference. Even if he was facing you, you would have to jump to reach him.  "Hey man, it's me. Yeah, I know she's a pain but I'll bring her home. No don't worry about it I'm used to it by now. "

    You roll your eyes at this. "Used to it by now," once again everyone sees you as the problem, not Jungkook. Forget the fact he tortured you all throughout childhood. Or that he's the reason everyone bullied you throughout high school.  "Here, you going to behave now or throw another tantrum?" Jungkook asks, hanging back your phone. 

    Immediately you snatch it from his hands clutching it close to your chest. "Never take my phone out of my hand again. You hear me, Jeon?!"

   "Then stop acting like a child and we won't have a problem." Jungkook snarks, arms folded over his chest as he looked down upon you as a parent would. 

    "Fuck you, Jeon! I'll find my own way home." You snap spinning around on your heels. 

     However before you can even take a step, caveman Jungkook throws you over his shoulders. He smacks your ass undoubtedly grinning as he does so. "Alright princess, enough playing. I promised your family to drive you home safely and I'm going to do just that. "

     "You heathen! Let me down!" You pound against his back to no avail. He merely hits your butt again continuing to walk through the airport without a care. Seriously where did airport security go? Aren't they supposed to be on alert for kidnappers or something?

    Apparently not because Jungkook strolls straight past a guard twiddling his thumbs. "Seriously?! Way to keep Korea safe man. I'm being kidnapped before your eyes here, dumbass."

    The guard shoots Jungkook and you a questioning look, clearly unamused by you calling him ‘dumbass.’ Jungkook lets out a nervous laugh, bowing apologetically towards the guard. His grip on you not slipping for even a second. "Sorry she's drunk. Please ignore her." 

    The guard nods. "Best get her out of here or  I'll have to detain her for drunken disorder."

     "Will do. Thanks." 

    "I am not drunk-" you start only Jungkook to hit you yet again hard. You yelp face turning red as the guard laughs. "I swear to God I will murder you. "

    "Do you want security to detain you? Because I'm pretty sure you'll be flagged as a flight hazard and stuck in Korea forever. " 

  Just the mere thought sends shivers down your spine. "No, thank you. "

"Didn't think so. " Jungkook replies. He carries you all the way to his car parked in the visitors' center. Not even letting you go as he climbed the three flights of stairs to get there. Undoubtedly he guessed-and correctly so- you'd run the second he let his guard down. Even when he sets you down to open his car door one hand remains firmly wrapped around your wrist.

     You sigh loudly. "Isn't this a little overkill? We're at your car now."

  "Sit." He merely says, pointing at the seat.

Tossing him a glare you do as told. Despite your previous bravado you know full well Jungkook is right, he is your only way home. Taxis are too expensive, and the rideshare apps went nowhere near your home. As much as you don’t want to admit it, Jungkook’s won this round. Still that doesn’t warrant the victorious grin on Jungkook’s face or the added salt of him reaching over to buckle your belt. "Overkill. Utter overkill. "

   "Got to keep the princess safe don't I?" he says sweetly.

    You cringe. "Enough with the princess stuff. You know I hate that. "

“You didn’t hate it when you were riding my dick last time you came home.” Jungkook mentions, sliding into the driver’s seat beside you. Heat rises to your cheeks at the memory of your last visit: Jungkook’s large hands gripping your waist as you fucked him in the backseat of his car.  His hot breath against your ear whispering dirty things that would make a porn star blush. That feeling of your toes curling as he hits the right spot-

    You shake the memory away. Fucking Jungkook was a mistake. It should’ve never happened. “That was a one time thing, Jeon. I was vulnerable last time. I just got out of a three year relationship-”

   “And you just happened to fall on my dick several times.” Jungkook snorts. His tone stays calm but you can see how his knuckles whitened gripping the steering wheel. “Look you can make all the excuses you want, but it doesn’t change what happened between us. We had sex. Good sex if I might add.”

   “Great sex.” You admit. “But that’s all.”

     As great as Jungkook and you were together, you couldn’t let yourself fall into his trap again. The dark haired boy bullied you for years. He made you cry countless times. Great sex didn’t change anything. Not when you know Jungkook would hurt you in the end.  Neither of you speak as Jungkook pulls out of the parking lot. Whatever conversation you have ends like it always does in harsh words. So for the next hour and a half you stare out the window contemplating your life until your eyes close shut.

   It’s not until a door slams that you open them again. Half awake you can barely make out the familiar street lights of your neighborhood hanging above, or the equally memorable 

houses of it surrounding you. Your car door opens to reveal a haggard Jungkook. He leans over unbuckling you without a word. His soft lush hair tickles your skin as he struggles to get you free.  You reach out to comb your fingers through it. 

   “Are we here?” you mumble, entranced by the silky feel of his hair. “Do we need to get out?”

      Jungkook nods. “Yeah, we’re here. Go back to sleep princess. I got it.”

     You yawn barely comprehending as an arm slides underneath your knees. “Okay, but only if you’re sure.”

     Closing your eyes again you miss Jungkook’s soft whisper of, ‘I’m sure.’

-----

Sunlight hits your face chasing away your dreamless sleep. Your eyes open slowly, greeted by the harshness of lavender colored walls filled with high school photos and cringey boy band posters from way back in the day. Nothing about your bedroom has changed moving out all those years ago.  Everything stayed exactly the same from when you were a teenager. Dreadfully so unfortunately. 

    Groaning you stretch trying to remember how you got into bed. Last thing you remember is asking Jungkook if you were home as he unclipped your seatbelt, so you had to have gotten up.  You must’ve been so tired nothing really processed. A thirteen hour flight would do that to you after all.  “Look what the cat dragged in. I see you survived the car ride with Jungkook alright.” Jimin grins, standing in the doorway of your room. 

   You toss a pillow at him only to miss. “Barely. Seriously what were you thinking having him pick me up? You know how I feel about him.”

     Jimin rolls his eyes. “I was thinking I have work the next day, and that Jungkook is the only guy I trust to pick up my little sister. Because not only would he keep her safe, but he’s the type of guy to carry her inside when she’s passed out.”

    Your mouth dried. “What?”

“I said Jungkook carried your ungrateful ass inside.” 

    Suddenly the memory of Jungkook carrying you in comes to mind. His strong arms wrapped around you as your fingers buried themselves into his shirt. You were only half awake, but you remember everything from the way his cologne smelt to the soft beat of his heart lulling you back to sleep. ‘Sweet dreams princess.’

    “No way. He hates me-besides I’m wearing pajamas!” You protest.

Jimin sighs. “Yeah. That I may have punched him for doing, but (Y/N), Kook doesn’t hate you. Trust me, that boy couldn’t hate you if he tried.”

    “I don’t believe you.” How could you? The first day you ever met Jungkook he kicked you off the slide causing you to scrape your knees. Second time you two met he called you ugly before running off to play with Jimin. After that things got worse, from destroying your barbies, putting kick me signs on you, spreading rumors about you in high school, to telling your crush you were a slut. If those weren’t the actions of a boy who hates you, then you don’t know what is.

    Jimin murmurs something about  ‘misunderstandings’ under his breath, but doesn’t clarify. Instead he simply says. “Look, think what you want, but Jungkook spent the night yesterday since he was too tired to drive home. So be nice okay?”

   “Whatever.” you reply, not mentioning the fact he lives down the road. Just this once you’d behave. After all, he did carry you home.

   Jimin smiles, tossing the pillow back. Naturally it hits you right square in the face.  "Good girl. Now get dressed. The last thing I need to see is my best friend eyeing up my little sister. "

  You let out a silent curse, but do as told. Honestly it really didn't matter. When you lived at home you walked around in yoga pants while braless all the time, Jungkook be damned. This was your house and you refused to give up comfort because your brother's friend came over. It drove Jimin insane. To the point he'd throw random items until you either changed or returned to your room. However that was ages ago before Jungkook ever saw you naked or bent you over the counter of his kitchen.

   “Stop it.” You slap yourself. “Thinking about it will do you no good.”

    Unfortunately the pep talk does little to stop the wanting ache between your legs. Jungkook is the last person you slept with since breaking up with your ex. After you returned to America the last time you simply threw yourself into work, barely sparing a glance at the opposite gender. “Fuck. You need to get laid, (Y/N). Preferably not by Jeon this time.” you whispers.

----- 

   Breakfast is an interesting affair. Like always your parents and brother treat Jungkook as if he's part of the family, your mother piles food onto his plate while your father and Jimin discuss the latest sports and news trends with him. Occasionally one of your parents will praise Jungkook on something he did, mentioning how proud they are of him to which Jungkook eats up like a starving man at a feast. 

     Meanwhile you play around with your rice ignoring the sour feeling of getting ignored by your own family. After all, it's not like you lived out of the country and only came home once in a blue moon. So what did it matter if your childhood enemy ate up all your attention? "Thank you again, Jungkook, for bringing (Y/N) home. I know how much of a pain she can be to you. " your mother says. 

   Jungkook grins, the sun practically illuminating him from behind as he tactfully shrugs off the gratitude with a, 'It's no problem, Mom.' His butter wouldn't melt in my mouth routine sickens you to the point you want to vomit. 

     "I would've been perfectly fine finding my own ride home. " You mumble indignantly. 

   The comment earns you a sharp whack on the head by your mother's slipper. "The words are, 'thank you, Jungkook. ' I swear I don't know how I raised such an ungrateful daughter. "

     You roll your eyes, swallowing the comment about her shitty parenting skills. "I mean how are you ever going to find a husband with that bad attitude of yours?" She laments, projecting into her usual rant of marriage and grandchildren. 

    Like always you ignore it taking the few blows to the head she gave whenever ranting about your marital future. Besides you, Jimin snickers enjoying your torment, having been born a boy he's safe from your mother's wrath since 'no girl is good enough for my precious Jimmie.' Thankfully your father has an ounce of sympathy left for you. "She's doing fine, hunny. (Y/N) has a good home and a steady job-"

    "You're too soft on her! That's why she's like this. " your mother dismisses. "I mean what man would fall for a woman with such an ugly personality?"

   Your heart gives a painful squeeze at her words, while such speech is common with your mother that doesn't make it hurt any less.  "Actually I know someone who'd be interested in going out with (Y/N)." Jungkook pipes up, a big grin stretching across his face. 

   You shoot him a warning glare to which he shrugs off. A surprise gasp- that is way too exaggerated in your opinion- escapes your mom, she looks at Jungkook as if he hung the moon. "Oh Jungkook, that would be wonderful. But we ask you to risk your friendship like that."

    "I promise you're not. This guy has loved- liked (Y/N) for a long time. He knows what she's like. " Jungkook waves off. 

   "Really? Who?" your dad asks, causing you to frown. Why does everyone think you are so unlovable? Seriously you are starting to get insulted, although you also question Jungkook and his 'friend. '

  Jimin snorts, giving Jungkook a weird look. "Yes Jungkook, who is this mysterious guy madly in love with my sister?"

   The tips of Jungkook's ears turn red and he ducks his head sheepishly, probably not expecting Jimin to call him out on his bluff.  "What does it matter? A man is interested in our (Y/N)! All my prayers are answered!" Your mom cries, saving Jungkook from whatever bullshit he is about to spout. "Oh Jungkook, you're so wonderful. Any mother would be lucky to have you."

    "Hey!" Jimin protests, earning a string of reassurances and praises from your mother. For a man who prided himself on his cool nature,  Jimin was a mama's boy.

   "I'm going to get started on the dishes. " you sigh, collecting the empty plates. As much as you love your family there's only so much one can take of them, hence moving to America. 

  "I'll help." Jungkook says, quickly gathering the dishes from your hand. Without another word he disappears into the kitchen like a little boy eager to impress his mom or in this case your mom; it  adds to your rising irritation. You don't know what his game is, but if Jungkook thinks he can pull a fast one on you, he'll be sorely surprised.

    You enter the kitchen to find Jungkook already washing the dishes, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up displaying his smooth muscular arms. Your eyes roam over them taking in the tattoos littered on his tan skin; he had gotten more since you last saw him, practically a full sleeve now. They look good on him not that you would ever admit it. "Hey, I wash, you dry?" Jungkook offers, throwing a towel your way. 

    You frown. "I got it. Go back to the table."

    Jungkook scoffs. "Seriously? You would rather do dishes- which you hate doing- then spend five minutes with me?"

   "Oh don't try to guilt trip me,  Jeon. That whole 'I know someone who likes (Y/N),' what utter bullshit. " you snap. "Tell me, were you going to laugh when I arrived at some restaurant only and no one comes?"

    Jungkook rolls his eyes. “You really need to see someone about this paranoia issue of yours, because this is beginning to get ridiculous.”

    “Excuse me? Paranoid? You bullied me all my life-"

  "I pushed down the slide when we were four. Get over it."

   "You cut off my barbies' head! Repeatedly called me ugly. Spread rumors about me in high school, and to top the cherry off you told Hoseok,  I was a slut. So no I won't get over it." You stomp your foot. 

   Jungkook clenches his jaw, the cup in his hand practically cracking under his grip. He says nothing, dropping the cup and sponge into the sink, before storming out like a madman.From the living room your parents call out Jungkook's name only for him to ignore them. The front door slams shut shaking the house so hard that the dishes tremble in their drying rack.

 "What happened to being nice to Jungkook?" Jimin's voice surprises you from behind. Disappointment is written all over his face, and the way his body positions itself (arms crossed, legs parted) tells you, you're in for a lecture. 

   You turn away not in the mood to be parented by someone two years your senior. Especially not when he allots Jungkook to bully you without a single reprimand. "He started it. Telling mom he'd set me up with some imaginary guy only to laugh when I get 'stood up."

     Jimin groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.  "You two are killing me. Look I can't spell it out for you, that is Jungkook's business, so I am just going to say this...I destroyed your barbies not Jungkook. "

   You froze. "What?"

 "I cut off Minnie's, Hana's and Lany's heads. You pissed me off by eating my snack. I wanted revenge." Jimin shrugged. 

   "B-but I caught Jungkook red handed! I saw him with Minnie's head!" 

   A sheepish look grew on his face. He tucks a piece of hair behind his ear, a habit he did whenever nervous. "Yeah, he was trying to fix her. "

   The dish in your hands drops shattering against the kitchen floor. Your mouth opens but no words come out; funny seeing how thousands of thoughts run through your head. "You asshole!" 

     Jimin winces. "Sorry. It was a dick move- but my point is you thought Jungkook did it and he didn't. So isn't it possible you are wrong about everything else?”

------

       You spend the next few days wandering around town bored. While you feel grateful to be home and see everyone you love, the list of things to do in your town is actually quite small compared to home ( perks of living in a small town). Outside of grocery shopping with your mom, reading on the veranda with your father, and bugging Jimin whenever possible, there’s not much to do. Things are especially boring since Jungkook disappeared after that morning. The bunny looking boy normally makes it his personal mission to bother you as much as possible. Disregarding the few hours he has to work, Jungkook always was there first thing in the morning to laugh at your ridiculous bed head. Yet for the last few days he’s been nowhere in sight.  When asked about it Jimin merely shrugged saying he was busy, before smirking and stating unnecessarily, “If you miss him that much, why don’t you call him yourself?” 

       It isn’t that you miss Jungkook, despite what Jimin said about your Barbie dolls, you still believe deep down he hates you. After all just because you were wrong about one thing didn’t mean you were wrong about everything else.  No, you asked Jimin, because it’s unusual given that the boy practically lived at your home. It’s not like you actually miss his stupid face over something. Perhaps if you had more friends this boredom wouldn’t be an issue. Sadly you weren’t much of a social butterfly back in high school; unlike Jimin who was part of the “popular” crowd, you were an outcast. As much as you tried, the only people who would hangout with you were Jimin’s friends.

     At first you thought it was something you did, but later you found out Jungkook told everyone you were a ‘freak of nature,’ and it was only because he and the others felt bad that they hung around you. Hearing what he said devastated you. It was the first time you realized how much Jungkook hated you. Moreover his words stopped you from ever really trusting anyone who wanted to be friends.

 “Isn’t it possible you are wrong about everything else?”  

Pushing the thought back you try to ignore the nagging feeling growing inside birthed by your brother’s words.  You fucking doubt it. How could something like that be so easily explained away? “I think this is your fifth lap around town.” a familiar voice calls out, snapping you back to reality. “People are beginning to think you’re a weirdo.”

       You don’t even have to look up to tell who it is. On this planet only one person owns a voice so annoying it instantaneously grates on your nerves. “Get lost, Jeon. I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

He snorts, continuing to follow you in his car. “You know it’s supposed to storm today right? You should head home before it pours.”

“Like I said: No One Asked You, Jeon.” you reply, promptly turning on your heels to head in the opposite direction.  He’s the last person you want to see given your current thoughts. Whatever longing you might’ve previously had for him disappeared the moment you remembered why Jungkook was your enemy. Thankfully he doesn’t follow most likely finding something more interesting to waste his time on.

You continue walking onwards too infuriated by the past to notice the dark clouds starting to form above. It’s not until something wet hits your skin that you take notice of the sudden drop in temperature and gathering winds. “Fuck.” you hiss feeling another raindrop.

Of course Jungkook would be right. The universe just fucking loved him like everyone else did. You get stuck with the short end though: running in the rain searching for shelter, only for you to naturally find yourself in the part of town  empty of all businesses. “Perhaps I can stand under a tree until it calms down.” 

 Lightning flashes across the sky followed by a loud BOOM of thunder making you jump. A small sob escapes your lips as you subconsciously curl yourself into a ball. Thunder always scares you no matter how old you get. “I’m not here. I’m not here.” you whisper, rocking on balls of your feet.

 However the deafening sounds of thunder destroys any hopes of pretending to be elsewhere. So you curl tighter into a ball praying for it all to stop. Overwhelmed with fear you don’t process the feel of someone’s jacket draping over you or the angry voice of Jungkook saying, “I told you to go home.”

It’s not until he yet again scoops you into his arms that you snap from your trance. You watch shocked as he carries you to the car. Through the rain and lightning he looks nothing like the boy you remember. Instead...he looks like a man you could very well fall in love with. 

  “Jung...Jungkook” You mumble, gripping his shirt as he sets you down into the passenger seat. He looks up at you in a mixture of curiosity and surprise. Neither of you can remember the last time you called him by his first name. It’s always been Jeon never Jungkook. “Thank you....”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jungkook replies, shutting the car door. He walks over to the driver’s side sliding easily into it.

 Now clear from the rain you can make out how drench he really is: hair soaked, clothes sticking to his skin, it makes you all too aware of the jacket covering you. Reluctantly you shrug it from your shoulders missing the comforting weight of it almost immediately. “Here. This is yours. You should wear it.”

Jungkook glares. “Keep it.

“No. It’s yours. You must be freezing without it-” 

   “I said keep it! God damn it, (Y/N). Why can’t you listen for once?” he snaps, hitting the steering wheel. You recoil taken back by his outburst. Never have you seen Jungkook so angry. At most Jungkook stormed off or glared whenever mad at you, never did he raise his voice at you. "I told you to go home. I told you it was going to storm but you didn’t listen."

    "I'm sorry…" 

     "You don't get it. You could've gotten sick if I didn't find you in time. Or worse you could have gotten hurt…"

   "Oh."  You reply, unsure what to say. Worrying about you wasn't something you expected from Jungkook, but it strikes a painful chord within you. Your heart should be warmed by the thought instead a painful sinking feeling fills it. Suddenly you want nothing more than to burst into tears. “You were worried?”

   Jungkook lets out a long tired sigh. "Of course I was worried. You’ve been terrified of thunder storms since we were five, why wouldn’t I worry about you being out in one?”

       ‘Trust me, that boy couldn’t hate you if he tried.’ Jimin’s words ring in your ears. ‘My point is you thought Jungkook did it and he didn't. So isn't it possible you are wrong about everything else?’

   Could Jimin be right? Is everything you thought  one big misunderstanding? You were so sure of Jungkook’s guilt previously, but now...you couldn’t picture him as the sinister bully you’ve known all your life.  “I’m sorry. I should’ve listened and turned around.” you admit, “I’m so used to chalkin everything you say off as meaningless teasing, I didn’t consider you actually meant well.”

    “You never do.” Jungkook huffs. For a second you swear you can see pain fill his dark bambi eyes as he looks at you. It is an expression you’ve never seen on his face before, a look of hurt and dejection. Again your heart twists painfully in your chest. “You always assume I’m out to get you, when really I’m just trying to be nice. I mean sure I tease and joke around with you, but (Y/N), I would never purposefully hurt you. I know you don’t believe me-”

   “Okay. I believe you.” 

Jungkook’s foot slips hitting the break. The car lurches forward causing you both to nearly hit your heads on the dashboard. His head snaps in your direction so fast it practically gives you whiplash. “What? What did you say?”

 Around you, cars honk aggravated by the standstill in the middle of traffic; you don’t care though. All you care about right now is the look of disbelief, shock, and hope marring Jungkook’s beautiful face. In that moment you realize how little you care about the truth. It’s unexplainable the sudden urge to move on from your prior hate, but you want to...you want to believe Jungkook is a good guy. “I believe you, Jungkook.” you swallow hard. “And I’m sorry for being such a bitch to you. So please forgive me.”

   You don’t know what you expected Jungkook’s reaction to be, however it certainly wasn’t this. “I’ll think about it.”

  If not for the sudden smirk pulling at his lips, you would’ve felt horrible. Instead you feel infuriated. “You asshole. I take it back. I’m not sorry. You hear me?! Not sorry!”

  Jungkook merely laughs, shaking his head. “No backsies remember, (Y/N)? You can’t take it back.”

  You glower remembering the childish rule Jimin, Jungkook and you made up in elementary school. It was to keep each other from ducking out of any dares or promises made, and apparently apologies now. “I hate you.”

         Jungkook laughs harder. “I’m sure you do. Let’s go home, huh? I’ll make you hot chocolate if you behave.”

“I always behave.” You mutter, rolling your eyes. A second passes. “There better be whipped cream and marshmallows with that.”

     “Anything you want princess. Anything you want.” 

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

You wonder if it’s creepy to find Jungkook so attractive while wearing your brother’s clothings. On Jimin, this grey sweatpants and hoodie combo makes him look like a homeless man, but on Jungkook, it has your mouth practically watering. The normally baggy material conforms perfectly to his body hiding nothing to the imagination. You see every curve, groove, muscle and bone (especially a certain large one in the middle of his sweats) in this boy’s body, and then to make things even worse you catch a sliver of tan skin anytime Jungkook raises his arms. Beautiful tan skin whose tantalizing taste and feel plagues your mind. 

    Suddenly you regret not putting up a fight about Jungkook coming over. Sure he was soaking wet from giving you his jacket, however Jungkook also lived down the street from you-he didn’t have to change into Jimin’s clothes. “Do you know if the dryer’s free?” Jungkook asks, lifting up said bundle of drenched clothes.

    “Ummm, yeah I believe so. You want me to put them up for you?” you offer, trying not to stare. Although things are technically supposed to be cool between you guys now, they’re not. Years of mistrust and hatred don’t simply vanish after an apology or sudden decision to forgive, instead the emotions built between you two need to be sorted through and really only time could do that. Which is why you try super hard not to let lust takeover and destroy the fragile truce recently made.

  Jungkook shakes his head. “Thanks, but I can manage."

You nod not knowing what else to say. Again his lips twist in that disgusting smirk you so despise, this time paired with a wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon enough for your ogling pleasure.”

 Quickly you look away, “Who’s ogling who, Jeon? Cause it’s certainly not me.”

   “Oh really?” Jungkook says, cocking an eyebrow. He steps forward caging you against the wall. Something dangerous gleams within those large eyes of his as Jungkook stares down at you with a ravenous look.  Shivers run down your spine sending a delicious shock through your body. “That’s too bad, because I was definitely ogling you, princess. Seeing you wear this oversized shirt gives me sooo many ideas.”

    You swallow hard, licking your suddenly dry lips. “Stop joking around. You and I know there’s nothing sexy about this shirt.”

    “I disagree. Believe it or not, I find girls sexiest when they’re comfortable with themselves. All that lace and lingerie is nice, but nothing is hotter than a girl wearing my shirt and nothing else.” Jungkook admits. “It brings out the territorial side in me.”

  Your brows crease. “That makes sense I guess, but this isn’t your shirt. It’s Jimin’s-”

     “Mine. I left it here one night after sleeping over Junior year. “ he explains. “You stole it from Jimin’s drawer thinking it was his.”

    “Oh….sorry. I’ll give it back.” Despair fills you at the thought. This is your favorite shirt regardless of it being a plain white t-shirt, it always makes you feel safe and comfy when wearing it as odd as it sounds. However you can’t afford to disrupt the newfound civialty between Jungkook and you.

      Jungkook snorts. “Keep it. Not like it will fit me anymore. Besides like I said, nothing turns me on more than a woman in my shirt. Why do you think I never asked for it back, princess?”

 He reaches out to toy with the hem of the shirt, his fingers drawing soft circles against your hip bone.   "Although I think I'd prefer you without it on, or rather anything on at all."

    "Jungkook…" you barely managed to get out as he lifts the material upwards. Cold air hits instantly pebbling your nipples despite the rush of warmth growing below. Instinctively you move to cover yourself only for Jungkook to grab your wrist. 

  "Please (Y/N). I've been dying to touch you since day one of your return." He begs, bringing your hand down. 

     "Okay." You whisper. 

"Okay. " he smiles, pressing his lips to yours. Those large hands clutch your shoulders as he presses further against you. All those curves and muscles you admired previously push up against your bare skin. Through the sweatpants you can feel how hard he is.

     A gasp escapes you as Jungkook's hands move towards your breasts caressing the underbelly of them. His fingers circle the outer edges of your nipples tracing them,  before finally moving to touch them.  He treats you like glass, a vast difference from your previous encounters and it's starting to annoy you . "I'm not made of glass you know?" You remind, stopping his hands. "You can be rough with me. "

      "Trust me, I know.  If memory serves correct you prefer it when I do something like this-" Jungkook snorts, grinding into you. The friction of his length against your clothed heat is exactly what you need. Moaning loudly you grip onto his arms trying to steady yourself. 

"That's it. Such a slut for friction. You honestly thought I'd forget how you made yourself cum on my thigh that night?" Jungkook smirks, fingers grazing along the edges of exposed skin. Goosebumps rise along wherever he touches and you squirm like underneath him. His smirk widens as he plays along the hem of your booty shorts. "I had to wash my jeans afterwards, they were so drenched from you. "

    "I didn't hear you complaining." You shoot back, pressing your hips against him in efforts to regain that delicious friction. "If I remember correctly you had fun flexing your leg underneath me."

     "Never said I didn't.  In fact I would very much like a repeat of that night." Jungkook grins, shifting so his thigh is between your legs.  The muscle in his leg flexes teasing your core; in a commanding tone he whispers, "Go crazy, princess. Ride me. Right here, right now, I promise I'll take care of ya. "

    That's all you need to hear to descend into madness. Almost instinctively you latch onto Jungkook digging your nails into his firm shoulders as you wantonly thrust against his leg. Moans escape your lips in wild abandon as his muscles rub against your clit at the perfect angle. Jungkook is right you are a whore for thigh riding. 

    Just when you think it can't get any better Jungkook's hand slips under your panties, fingers immediately finding that hard pearl between your legs. He brushes it softly causing you to hiss as your knees close in unwillingly to give up such feeling. Now this is more like it. 

    "You like that?"  He teases, forefinger circling your clit slowly.

    "Mmhmm…" you nodd, grinding harder in an attempt to pick up his pace. 

   "Words princess. Tell me exactly what you want. "

       "More. " you cry out. "Kook. More please. I need you. "

   Oddly the nickname spurs him on if the harsh whisper of, 'fuck' says anything. If not then certainly the desperate opened mouth pressed to your lips does. Silently you make a mental note to use the nickname again but it's momentarily lost as his fingers pick up speed.  This time it's you uttering curses as Jungkook brings you right to the edge of cumming.

    "Please, please, I'm so close."  You want him so badly it's ridiculous. The smirk widens on his face, Junkook decides to reward you by slipping two of his fingers into your core. "Fuck Kook!"

   "That's it, princess. Come for me. Show me how good you feel." Jungkook pumps his fingers into you. All words leave you as a haze of ecstacy falls over you, all you can is moan rocking deliberately against his hand.  With every thrust his fingers somehow hit that special spot inside you. 

     Jungkook's an expert at knowing all your spots and kinks, almost as if he memorized everything about you, last time he and you were together. Either way impressed doesn't even begin to describe how you feel about his abilities. You moan his name, holding onto to him tightly as you orgasm onto his thigh. It lasts longer than expected small waves of pleasure still coming despite the relaxed posture of your body resting on his. 

        Gently Jungkook strokes your hair in a  manner similar to what lovers do after such an event. Alarm bells ring out at the action, but you make no move to stop him. "Was that a good enough reenactment for you?" You mention, half teasing. 

    Jungkook grins. "Better than good. You got me so hard, princess, I don't know how I can last."

   This time it's you who smirks. Sliding off of his thigh, you get on your knees anxious for the next act. "Well then, I better make what little time you do have as great as possible. "

    Before Jungkook can say a word you reach under the waistband of his sweats gripping his length tenderly in your hand. The groan uttered from Jungkook's lips at the slightest touch of your hand ignites another fire within you. Smirk widening you pull out your prize, taking a second to admire the gorgeous cock. Despite having seen it before you can never quite get its length or the beautiful curve of it. 

     Running a finger along the thick veins you see a bit of pre-cum at its tip. "You weren't joking when you said that last act turned you on." You tease, swiping over his head with your thumb.

     Staring into his eyes, you put your thumb into your mouth sucking off the cum.  The salty taste makes your mouth water, with an exaggerated pop take your thumb out. "Fuck, (Y/N). Don't tease, I'll go insane if you do." Jungkook pleads.

    "So needy." You say, taking him into your mouth. Thankfully your last boyfriend was somewhat of a blow job junkie, and while Jungkook is twice as large as he was, you have no problem taking his length into your mouth. The tip touches the back of your throat, instinctively you hollow your cheeks sucking in a slow teasing manner. 

   You  swirl your tongue about his base enjoying the beautiful noises Jungkook made under your tongue. Soon a hand buries itself into your hair, gripping tightly in an attempt to control the pace. Normally you wouldn't allow such behavior preferring your lover to suffer under you, however there's something about Jungkook's desperation to get off using your mouth that sends heat pooling to your core. It doesn't take long until he's spilling into your mouth, hands pulling on your hair he thrusts his hips forward pushing himself further into your mouth.  

  “Shit, princess. That was great. Almost as good as cumming inside you." Jungkook sighs running a hand through his messy hair. 

    You smile wiping the corners of your mouth clean. "Unfortunately you're going to have to miss out. Jimin will be home soon."

  Again his hands make their way to your hips, already you can tell he's angling for another kiss. "We'll have to be quick then. "

       Jungkook leans forward, but this time you pull away. "The last thing Jimin needs is to walk in on us….besides we need to wash these sweats before he gets home. "

     His lips curl into a smile practically relishing in your embarrassment, "Fair enough princess, but don't think we are done yet. I plan on making your toes curl as much as possible until the plane ride home. "

  You cock an eyebrow. “Those are big words coming from a man who just begged me to cum. What makes you think I’m going to let you?”

      “Easy, because you like it as much as I do.” Jungkook replies, grinding himself once more against you. A sharp hiss escapes you; almost uncontrollably you push back desperate for that sweet friction, however Jungkook moves away denying any sensation. “ Nuh uh, Jimin’s going to be home soon. Wouldn’t want him catching us, now would we (Y/N)? You’ll  have to wait until next.”

    “You, son of a bitch!” You snap, glaring daggers at his retreating form. As much as you hate to admit it, something tells you this newfound friendship with Jungkook is going to be more than you bargained for.

    --------

Despite what your parents may think, your summer vacation home isn’t an excuse to be lazy. While it is true that Korea’s summer vacations are shorter than American's, as a teacher you still have plenty of work left to do during the student’s time off. One such thing happens to be reading over the posts written by your honor’s literature course throughout the break. Normally you graded them at night when everyone was asleep, but as your class delves deeper into the context of Frankenstein, you find yourself unable to keep your nightly routine with the density of the topic. Hence why you now sit in a cafe  hunched over your laptop rereading Joni’s obviously copyrighted post. 

    “You look lost in thought.” A cheery voice teases.

   For a second your brain tricks into thinking it’s Jungkook talking, after all he’s been bothering you extra since the two of you made the transition from enemies to fuck buddies. So it wouldn’t be unusual if the dark haired boy stalked you to the cafe to annoy you. However when you look up it’s not tattooed arms or a dopey bunny looking face you see, instead a pair of smiling almond shaped eyes stare down at you, their owner a very familiar reddish brunette. 

    “Hoseok!” you cry, leaping up only to hit your knee on the table. It throbs causing a sharp expletive to escape your lips. Embarrass you try to shake it off as if it never happened. Last thing you need is to make a fool of yourself in front of him. “Hi, I didn’t see you there.”

   “I can tell.” he laughs gesturing towards your knee. “I didn’t mean to startle you, (Y/N). It’s just been ages since I last saw you.”

   Your heart skips a beat. Nervously you tuck a strand of hair behind your ears in attempts to play cool. Logically you know you have no reason to get nervous, especially not when Hoseok ditched you at a restaurant after getting told you were a slut by Jungkook. Yet, for whatever reason that small high school girl who idolized him still remains inside you.

    “Almost six years. “ You smile. “Time has sure flown by hasn’t it?”

“Maybe but you haven’t changed much.” Hoseok winks, causing your brows to furrow. Haven’t changed much? What was he talking about? Did he not see your clear evolution from loner geek into potential adult? “You’re still as pretty as you were back in high school.”

   This time you are pretty sure your heart stops. It takes everything in your power not to gap like a wide-mouth fish out of water. Time seems to slow down in the small coffee shop as you work to come up with a response. Suddenly all the previous noises of chatter, whistling kettles and clanking plates become overwhelming rather than peaceful. Unfortunately even after being in a committed relationship for two years, your flirtation skills are still rusty. “You obviously need glasses then, because I looked like a hobo back then.”

      You can slap yourself. Literally-actually slap yourself for that stupid ass comment. Thankfully Hoseok doesn’t seem to mind only laughing even harder than before. “Nah, you were the prettiest girl on campus. Everyone was just afraid of you, because Jimin and Jungkook always hung around you-speaking of which, I want to apologize for how I acted back then. I shouldn’t have ditched you over such a stupid thing like that.”

    “Oh, it’s fine. Water under the bridge trust me.” you lie, ignoring the pang in your chest. Just remembering that day brings a new fire of hostility towards Jungkook. No matter how many years pass you still remember the day clearly. You were waiting for Hoseok at a local dinner, anxiously checking your phone for any messages or calls. A full hour passed with you insisting multiple times to the kind waitress that your date was arriving soon, however Hoseok never showed up. 

     You tried contacting him, worried that something terrible happened only to never get a response. Once home, you even bug Jimin who was friends with Hoseok then about the cheery boy, only to be brushed off. It’s not until you went to school the next day and confronted Hoseok in the hallway that you found out the truth. Jungkook let it loose that you were a slut and Hoseok being the knight in shining armor he was, fought him. They were equally matched with both of them garnering bruises and bumps because of it, but ultimately they were tied. 

“Look (Y/N), you seem like a nice girl, ” Hoseok said, brushing you off. “And what Jungkook said about you being a slut probably isn’t true, but I really can’t handle all this drama between you two.”

  That day your heart broke in two as dramatic as it sounds. Moreover from that moment you vowed to hate Jeon Jungkook for the rest of your life. “No, it’s really not and I might be overstepping my boundaries, but I would like another chance to get to know you.” Hoseok asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

   "Okay. " the word slips through your lips before you even have a chance to think it over. 

     His face lights up and any doubt you once had shatters completely. People change, Jungkook did so maybe Hoseok matured too. Either way it wouldn't hurt to try again. "Great. It'll be fun, I promise. "

     "I'm going to hold you to that Hoseok. " you tease. Inside you the giddiness grows, it feels as if you walked into some sort of dream or something. Didn't every girl dream of her high school crush finally realizing what a catch she is?

   "You won't regret it."  Hoseok swears. "Anyway I should let you get back to work, but first can I get your number?"

   You rattle it off to him, doing your best to appear stoic, unfortunately the aching in your smiling cheeks suggests utter failure.  Afterwards your students' work feels like less frustrating or maybe you're feeling a little generous seeing how Trisha totally bullshited her review yet you still gave a ⅘ on it. Whatever the reason you finish up faster than expected, leaving the cafe with an extra hour of free time.  "Well if it isn't a princess set free from her tower!" Someone whistles. 

  Unlike earlier you have no issue distinguishing the playful voice of Jungkook. Turning towards the noise, you unsurprisingly find him propped up against his car in a cool uncaring fashion. His work clothes only help amplify the appearance; the black suit jacket paired perfectly with his white dress shirt and pants ensemble make him look like a Chaebol rather than plain Jungkook. All in all he looks absolutely mouth watering, but you'd die before ever admitting it. "If it isn't the ogre coming out of his swamp to play. " you tease, pinching his arm. 

  He chuckles, opening the passenger's door of his black Lexus. "I think you forget the ogre got his princess in the end. "

   You wrinkle your nose in faux disgust. "Good luck, finding one. I don't know how many people can put up with your ugly mug. "

  "Don't need to. I already captured you. " Jungkook replies, closing the car door. 

    You blink registering what he said.  "That's the cheesiest line I've ever heard."

 He shrugs slipping on a pair of faux Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses. Paired with the rest of his outfit, the glasses shattered the image of the rich Chaebol man. Their paint chipped arms and scratched off logo scream 'fake' and you wonder why Jungkook kept such hideous knock offs. "You should get rid of those. They make you look cheap. "

    Jungkook scrunches his nose. "No way, they were a gift. "

   "A gift purposefully bought from some shady street vendor, because my mother insisted I buy you a college graduation gift." You say, reaching out to grab them.

     Naturally Jungkook only needs to lean away to thwart your efforts. "So? I like them. "

    "You look like one of those wannabe entrepreneurs on Instagram. "

   "How dare you! I have over five hundred followers, I'm legendary!"

     "Did Jimin make five hundred accounts? Because he's the only who would follow your ass!"  You say, attempting one more shot at retrieving those vile glasses. 

     Once more Jungkook merely tilts his head blocking your stubby little arms from reaching. "Whatever you say princess, we both know you're the one following my ass around here. "

  "I'm following you? How laughable. I didn't know you were a comedian, Jungkook…" the two of you continue bantering the rest of the car ride home.

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

Author’s note: Special thanks to @dreamsfromthesandman​ for editing and putting up with my craziness even if she’s not army.

[tipsydipsydo]

Jar of Kinks [M] 

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 1.8k

Rating: 18+

Genre: Smut!

Warnings: Sexual Language; Dirty Talk; Dom-/Sub-Dynamics (Dom! Yoongi and Sub! Reader); Petnames; Praising; Begging; Teasing; Multiple Orgasms; Overstimulation; Spanking; Ass-Play (fem.); (anal) Fingering; Usage of spit; Double Penetration; unprotected vaginal Penetration (please stay safe!); Mentions of Sextoys

Summary: Your relationship with Yoongi is young, you two have still so much to explore with each other behind closed bedroom doors. There are so many secret fantasies and kinks that needs to be unwrapped...

A/N: This Fanfiction is based on my own Jars of Kinks! The dear @yoongiandthebiaswreckers asked me if I'd be interested to write these kinks a little more out... with Yoongi, he's my biaswrecker. So yeah, I couldn't deny her this ask 🙈👉🏻👈🏻💕

Also big Thanks are going to @borathae, she turned me into such an assplay and Sub! Yoongi Hoe and also @kay-diggle, because she confirmed my fantasies about Yoongi has an ass-thing!

[Links]:

▪ Jars of Kinks - Sub Yoongi (coming soon)

▪ Blog Navigation 

「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

Muffled moans comes your lips, getting lost quickly in the pillow under your cheek. You're ass up on the bed, the power of Yoongi's thrusts and the all this pure pleasure press your upper body literally into the matress.

All these sinful moans and whimpers that leaves your mouth and throat, turns automatically into unidentifiable noises. It's kinda weird but exactly this fact turns your boyfriend beyond believe on, makes him all feral.

He loves to see you crumble under him, falling piece for piece apart for him.

Yoongi loves that he pounds you so fucking good that you can't hold yourself up anymore, that your arms gave in and your hands are grabbing desperately the sheets under you. To have at least something to hold on and not to get perished by all the desire you feel for Yoongi in every viber of your body.

His thrusts are not as fast as you're usually used to, it's rather a slow rhythm. But oh my god, he's stretching you so good and his dick is going so. fucking. deep!

Your boyfriend prefer to take his time and to use his energy thoughtful and well calculated, trying to last as long as possible while ruining your poor pussy over and over again. You already had two orgasms, just from the foreplay and you can guess, it wouldn't be the last ones this night!

Yoongi is a giver, he loves to please.

That was one of the very first things you've learned in this relationship, that you definitely not have to worry about how you'll have to fake an orgasm in the most realistic way.

Yoongi showed you right at your first time together that he's able to please a woman. More than that.

Your relationship is still young, three months ago you've started dating each other officially. But compared to your previous relationships, you've had in these three months already more orgasms than in the last 5 years!

He's different than all the other mens before him.

He knows how a female body works. He knows how to read your body language. He knows where he has to stop and asks you at first before he continues. He knows that every person and every body is completely individual and everybody has different preferences and limits.

This man knows that he has to take his time to explore the body and sexual needs of the other person, that it needs time, love and trust to open up to each other. That those things simply need patience and empathy to let the safe walls down and show them all these different facettes of you, to let your partner slowly unwrap these secret desires which are deep down in you.

He really cares for you. A thing that most partners didn't do.

A harsh slap onto your right butt cheek makes you yelp in surprise but also in pain and pleasure. Quiet whimpers are leaving your lips while Yoongi massages gently the bruised skin.

"Your attention wasn't here by me, Babygirl. I just wondered what thoughts are running through this pretty head while I fuck you into the matress, Sweetheart...",grunts Yoongi in a low and raspy voice. His hips are snapping more forceful now, want to make sure that your thoughts will stay here for now on.

"I-I just thought about h-how... oh my God, Yoongi... how lucky and g-grateful I am to have you... Fucking me so good and making sure that I-I'll enjoy it...", you whimper and bite your lower lip, trying to suspress a desperate mewl.

"Hmm, yes Babygirl~ I want to make sure that I'll to fuck you your overthinking brain all nicely out... only when you can't think straight anymore and just are able to enjoy my fat cock in your dripping pussy you'll be able to cum... and I want to make you cum for a third time, Baby. I want you to have your third orgasm on my cock, I want you to clench so tightly around me when you cum that you'll gonna milk my balls dry... are you doing that for me, Darling?", pants Yoongi with a breathy voice, slowly getting closer to the edge as well.

Over the whole time your boyfriend was telling you what he wants to do to you, he squeezed and massaged both of your ass cheeks with a firm grip. He didn't even needed to tell you, it was pretty obvious right from the beginning that he kinda has an ass thing.

It's not like you dislike it, hell no! You welcome his admiration and grabby hands... even more, you actually love it when he pulls your cheeks apart to be able to watch himself sliding so wonderful in and out of your drenched folds. Sometimes even with the little hope he would pay some attention to your other hole which is so nicely on display as well.

You had already more than enough possibilities to give him so more hints or to talk with him about that... but everytime you still hadn't enough courage to verbalisize your kinks.

Too often you got turned down for from your previous boyfriends for those fantasies, most of the time with not so nice words. The last thing you want is to ruin everything right at the beginning, just because you couldn't watch your mouth properly.

...well, you wish you would be able to shut your damn mouth up and control your desperate body...

More than once Yoongi's left thump brushes casually over your tight puckered musclering when his hand grope roughly a handful of your soft flesh. Of course with no intentions behind it but you can't control yourself when your whole body is pumped full with greedy desire. Everything, that comes near to your asshole makes you so fucking desperate, you can't withstand the seduction to buck you hips up. Literally begging non-verbal with this move for some more stimulation.

A low chuckle rumples in Yoongi's chest. If you would look over your shoulder now, you'd see that the right corner of his mouth is curved into a smug smile.

"Does my little princess likes it when I rub my thumb over her cute asshole? She's sensitive here, hm? Your sweet hole is clenching so desperately and your tiny pussy just got even wetter...", he teases you, circling your sensitive musclering with his finger on purpose now.

Now you've reached a point where you couldn't hold your secret kink down anymore, mewling and whining you're pressing your ass in his hands. Your head is nodding furiously and you confirm his guess with countless whimpered "Yes!" that tumbles out of your mouth.

"Fuck. God, Y/N, you don't know how fucking hot that is... your ass was always so damn seductive and now you even show me that you have a thing for assplay! That's so freaking hot, I could blow a load right away.. ", growls Yoongi in a tone you've never heard before... so primal and animalistic.

Before you have even the chance to open your mouth, the next harsh spank lands on your left cheek. Shortly afterwards Yoongi's palm is soothing the sharp sting and pulls your cheeks apart for a second time.

You're about to melt into a puddle of need and pleasure, you're in full speed on your way to your third orgasm. You completely lost the control over the words that comes over your lips, your mouth is babbling non-stop. Begging him to to stuff you up, to finger your tight asshole, filling you up with his digits.

A deep groan escapes your boyfriend's throat, it didn't take much time to spread your ass open until your hole is full in display for him. God, how much he admire this scenery...

Yoongi want to make this process as short as possible, simply use his spit as lube and massaging it onto your tight muscle. Gently and carefully he let his middle finger sinks into your greedy asshole.

A moan full of lust leaves your mouth, rocking your hips against his pelvis.

"God, Baby, you are such a perfect Queen for me! How greedy and desperate you are to get your ass stuffed up while I ruin your sweet pussy, if I knew you love double penetration that much.. fuck, I'd have fucked you today with a nice and thick buttplug in your ass. Pulling and pushing it in and out with every thrust until your asshole is all soft and stretched open for me to bury my creamy load right into your cute asshole~", purrs Yoongi with a devilish chuckle. Drilling his cock faster and faster into you, abusing your cunt to the maximum in the best possible way.

While telling you completely shameless all this filth, his ring finger joined his middle finger in your ass, pumping them in and out in a fast pace.

Now it's too much.

All this let the coil of pure pleasure in your abdomen bursts open and knocks all air out of your lungs. If Yoongi wouldn't hold you up by your hips, your body would collapse completely onto the bed. Your mouth is wide open to let a silent scream out, your walls spasming so tightly around Yoongi's cock that he also couldn't hold it anymore.

Choked groans are leaving his throat as he rides his and your own orgasm out. You literally milked the very last droplet of cum out of his cock.

After coming down from his high, he pulls his fingers out of you and wipes them off on the towel under you. With a soft smile Yoongi gives you a litte peck between your shoulder blades.

"I think we should order some nice buttplugs online, hm?~"

"We don't have to... Go to the dresser and pull the third drawer out and take the second box out of it. I bet you'll find something in there, you'd like to try on me...", you wisper tiredly but with a coy smile in the corners of your mouth.

You're already halfway in the dreamland when you hear Yoongi's raspy voice saying:

"Fuck, Y/N. I didn't know I'm that lucky to can call a kinky Godess my sexy Girlfriend. You store a half sexshop in here!"

[fanmoose12]

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 8/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Сhapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Сhapter 7

Petra was walking down a street with a slight spring in her step. Today would be a good day, she could feel it. Entering the precinct, she was filled with a sense of giddy trepidation.

She couldn't wait to see Levi. Last night's events seemed like a dream to her. Meeting detective Hange, almost getting into a fight with her and then watching her reunite with Levi - she couldn't quite believe that it actually happened. But it did, and now Petra wondered if the change in Levi would be visible.

Would he drop the gloomy, irritated facade? Would she see him smile?

Ah, Petra was so excited!

She was so excited, so lost in her world that she didn't pay much attention to her surroundings. So when her forehead collided with someone else's, she got quite a surprise.

Petra jumped back, immediately apologizing. She lifted her eyes and met the icy stare of her partner.

She gulped. So he didn't drop the gloomy facade.

"Good morning!" she squealed, feeling her cheeks burn in embarrassment. Levi continued to bore his eyes into her, and Petra fidgeted, unsure of what to do and not knowing the reason for his anger.

She watched him beneath her eyelashes - Levi's face was pale with dark circles under his eyes. His shoulders were hunched and his posture was tense. Petra's eyebrows knitted together, it was all wrong.

She could explain the circles under his eyes, Levi met his long lost partner after two years of separation, of course, he didn't get much sleep last night. There was probably a lot they needed to discuss, and maybe... They did other things too. But why was Levi so frustrated now? Did something happen between him and detective Hange? Did they have a fight?

"I was waiting for you," Levi said finally. "Put your things in the office and come to the forensics department. I'll be there."

And just like that, Levi was gone. Petra stared after him, confused and bewildered. He reunited with his beloved partner just yesterday, wasn't he happy about it?

She didn't have the time to ponder about it, though. Whatever was the reason for Levi's tenseness, she didn't wish to anger him anymore. And so she needed to hurry. Petra whirled around, heading to the elevators. Walking inside, she pushed the needed button with a heavy sigh. It looked like another long day was ahead of her. 

***

When Petra entered the forensics department, Levi was the only one there. He was standing in the middle of the room, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed in deep thought, as he studied the stack of papers in his hands.

"Hey," Petra called timidly, gripping the side of the door tightly. "Where is everyone else?"

"Moblit and Nifa are busy in the dissection room," he answered without looking up. "They'll be here soon."

"Alright," Petra softly stepped inside. "Did you find something in there?" she gestured to the papers.

"Nothing that could give us a definite clue," Levi said, obviously annoyed by this fact. "The victim was dragged, just like the first time. The drug was injected into her neck, though, and not administered orally."

"Maybe, the killer was in a hurry?" Petra suggested.

"Possibly," Levi nodded. "Maybe, he didn't have the time to woo her like the last victim. Maybe, he needed to kill her that night because— oh," his eyes widened and he froze for a second, gripping the papers tighter. "It makes sense now," he whispered.

"What does?" Petra frowned, confused.

"Nothing," Levi shook his head. "Something Hange told me. I need to check it first. There is another thing, though."

"What?" Petra leaned closer, looking at papers behind Levi's shoulder.

"The jacket, there is a trace of Hange's DNA."

"So? You already identified it yesterday."

"Hange’s DNA is not the only one they found," Levi took out small package. "Here, look at this.”  

Petra snatched the package from his hands, curiously looking it over. She was quite disappointed to realize that inside was just a single hair.

"Isn't it..." she squinted a bit. The hair was brown. "Doesn't it belong to detective Hange?"

"No, hers is slightly different. The color is richer. And this one curls at the end."

"Alright," Petra had no choice but to agree. Apparently, she was talking with an expert, with someone who had spent a lot of his time staring at detective Hange's hair.

"Besides, it was confirmed that this hair doesn't belong to her. Obviously, it's from the killer."

Tall man with curly brown hair, Petra suddenly remembered. So the witness was right after all?

"Zeke most probably isn't the killer," Levi announced after a few seconds of tense silence. "Hange says there is no way he could be involved."

"And you believe it?" Petra asked carefully.

Levi hung his head. "I'm not sure. On one hand, no else has the motive for these killings. On the other, Hange is sure it's not him."

"How is she, by the way? Was everything alright last night?" Petra's gaze shifted from one corner of the room to another, unable to meet Levi's eyes. Fighting with her nervousness, she wriggled her hands behind her and continued. "You just seem a bit tense today, and I couldn't help but wonder why. I, well, maybe I just expected you to be a little bit happier. Yesterday you've found out that your beloved is actually alive so—"

The papers fell from Levi's hands. Petra shut her mouth immediately, eyes snapping to her partner's face. They stared at each other for a long moment, the heavy silence hanging over the room. The strained atmosphere was destroyed by Levi's quiet curse.

"What the fuck Petra?" he crouched down, frantically gathering the papers. "We— four eyes and I are not—" he closed his eyes, scowling. "We are not lovers, for Christ's sake! How could you even think about it?"

"You... are not?" Petra stared down at him, her mouth agape. There was no way she could read the signs wrong. It was obvious!

"Of course we are not!" Levi snapped. "How did you come up with nonsense?"

Well, where Petra should even begin?

"You care so much about her!" she decided to start with the most obvious clue.

Levi raised an eyebrow, looking up at Petra from his position on the floor. "Don't you care about your friends?"

"Of course, I do," she huffed, resisting the urge to stomp her feet in frustration. Levi wasn't seriously trying to use the friend's card. She saw them yesterday, their relationship was obviously much more than simply platonic.

"You grieved for her for two years!"

"Just like any close friend would do," Levi replied. He rose up, fixing his tie and giving Petra an unimpressed look.

She wasn't going to give up so easily, though. There should be something, something Levi wouldn't be able to deny.

And then she remembered.

"The witness!" she pointed her finger at Levi's chest. "The concierge at detective Hange's old place, he recognized you! So you shared an apartment with her!"

"Don't be absurd," Levi waved her off, still completely unfazed. "I just visited her a lot. Hange could never wake up in time for work, so I used to visit her place to wake her up. Sometimes I came to make her dinner or clean that junkyard she called her home, that's all."

That's all? Levi woke her up in the mornings, they frequently had dinners together and he helped to clean her apartment? And they weren't in a relationship? She couldn't wrap her head around it. She saw them together, what they felt for each other was undeniable. Could they not see it?

"But—" she stuttered, unsure how to follow up.

Levi sighed. "Even if the subject was quite questionable, your dedication is admiring, detective," he patted her shoulder, walking past her. "However, your deduction was wrong."

It was not and she knew it. Petra knew she was right. She could do nothing, though. If Levi himself didn't notice his true feelings, she wasn't the one who could make him see. He had another partner for that.

"If you have any questions regarding the case," Levi said when he was already in the doorway. "Wait for Moblit and Nifa. If you need me, I'll be in Erwin's office."

"Ah, okay," Petra answered feebly, watching the door close after him.

A moment later, however, another door opened. Nifa and Moblit walked inside.

"Petra!" Nifa squealed, hurriedly taking off the protective goggles and gloves. "How was your date? Did you enjoy it? Did he like your look? Did you two kiss? Did—"

"Nifa," Moblit smiled forcefully and squeezed her shoulder. "Take a breath and pay attention," he nodded at the papers in Petra's hands. "Detective Ral obviously didn't come here to discuss her personal life."

"Ah, yes," Petra finally snapped out of her stupor. "I did come here for work purposes, but," she laid the papers down on the nearest table. "I have a question too. It's kind of personal?"

"Oh?" Nifa pressed hands against her chest, her eyes alight with curiosity. "Spill it already."

And well, how should she begin? The straight approach was the easiest one, she decided.

"What is the nature of relationship between Levi and detective Zoe? Levi just told me they aren't lovers but is it really true? I mean, they're so..." she bit her lip, thinking. The word close didn't quite cut it.

Nifa interrupted her musings, clasping her shoulder with a grin. "Ah, frustrated much with their relationship? Welcome to the club, dear," she announced chirpily.

"Wait," Moblit raised an arm, coming to stand directly in front of Petra. He loomed over her, his hazel eyes boring into her with unusual seriousness. "You discussed this with detective Levi? And why did you talk about detective Hange as though she is..." his voice cracked on the last word. Moblit closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "As though she is still alive?"

"Oh," Petra cast her eyes down, thinking. She forgot that Levi wasn't the only who cared about Hange. Should she tell them? Or should she keep it a secret? Levi said that he trusted the guys from forensics department, but how much? Would trust them with the secret of his partner?

In the end, it was the pain and misery in Moblit's eyes that pushed Petra to make a decision.

"The thing is..." she cleared her throat, not knowing where to look - at Moblit's nervous expression or at Nifa's confused one? "Detective Zoe is actually, well, she's alive."

"What?" Nifa's hands flew to her face.

Moblit squeezed the edge of the nearest table, using it as his support. "What..." he began quietly, uncertainly. "What are you talking about?"

"She survived the explosion,” Petra explained softly. “I've met her last night. In our office."

"You've never seen her though," Nifa frowned. "How can you be sure it's really detective Hange?

"Well," Petra's lips curved into a faint smile. "Levi had seen her too, so..."

"Oh," Nifa breathed out.

Meanwhile, Moblit sat heavily on the chair, covering his eyes with a palm.

“I don’t know how exactly she survived,” Petra added. “But she’s alive.”

Silence fell over the room. It lasted for a few more minutes, and then Nifa cried out in joy, lifting her hands in the air.

"Detective Hange is alive!" she exclaimed it with the biggest smile. "We should celebrate! Moblit, make us tea! And bring my apple pie!"

Despite his shaken state, Moblit was on his feet instantly, ready to fulfill Nifa's request.

"Thank you for telling us," he whispered to Petra, giving her a quick hug. "It means so much to me."

"Sure," Petra patted his back awkwardly.

"Right," Moblit took a step back, letting her go. "Now, the tea."

"So," Nifa sat down, putting hands under her chin. "How our detective Hange is doing? Does she still look so cool?"

"I don't know..." Petra scratched the back of her head. "She has a patch over her left eye now, though."

"Ah," Nifa sighed dreamily. "So she looks even cooler now."

"Don't mind her," Moblit advised, as he put the tray with tea and pie on the table in front of them. Petra thanked him and joined Nifa. "She just used to have the biggest of crushes on detective Hange."

"Oi, shut up," Nifa smacked his arm. "As if you're that different from me."

"I don't have a crush on Hange," he denied, glaring at Nifa. "I just admire her a lot. Platonically."

"Oh, sure," Nifa huffed. "Should I tell Petra about that time when you invited Hange on a date, Mr. Platonic Admiration?"

"It wasn't a date," Moblit said stubbornly. "I just had a spare ticket to a very interesting science exhibition, and I knew Hange likes this stuff, so I decided to take her with me."

"Tell her," Nifa nudged, sending a piece of pie in her mouth. "Tell Petra what happened next."

Moblit sighed. "She agreed to come with me."

"And?" Nifa prompted further, smiling slyly.

He turned his face away. "And then she showed up together with detective Ackerman."

"Oh," Petra rubbed Moblit's back soothingly. "It must have been rough."

"It was okay," he forced a smile. "Besides, Nifa here," he pointed his fork at her with a smug look. "Used to have a crush on both of them."

"So what?" Nifa shrugged. "I don't deny it. They both look very good and have you ever seen them in action? Once I watched them spar with each other in the gym. It's the hottest thing I've ever seen."

"Eugh,” Moblit cringed. "However," he turned to Petra. "You should have seen how she tried to flirt with them. It was hilarious. And a bit awkward, since none of them really noticed her attempts."

"Yeah," Nifa agreed solemnly. "As smart as they are, they are so oblivious," she shook her head. "They're too focused on each other."

"So," Petra gripped the cup tighter in her hands. "It's true? They aren't a thing?"

Nifa laughed. "They're most definitely a thing. They just don't know about it."

"Oh."

"But, since detective Hange is alive, they have time to figure it out," Moblit smiled encouragingly. Then the smile vanished from his face, as he fixed Nifa with a strict gaze. "We, however, don't have the time. Finish your tea and get up. We still have a lot work."

"Yes, dad," Nifa whined.

"I need to get going as well," Petra smiled, finishing her tea. "Thanks for the conversation and for the snacks, but Moblit is right. The work doesn't wait. I'll see you soon."

"Goodbye!" Nifa waved her hand. "We'll be waiting for you to come back!"

Petra waved back and then headed to the door, still smiling softly.

 ***

On her way to the office, at the opposite end of the hallway, Petra saw a familiar figure. Her first instinct was to run and hide. To her dismay, however, he already noticed her.

"Detective Ral!" Sannes called, hurrying to get to her.

As he came closer, Petra noticed that he wasn't alone - a young, dark-haired man was trudging after him. Petra didn't recognize him. Was he not from the precinct?

"I haven't seen you yesterday," he said, as he finally caught up with her.

"Had been busy with a case," Petra mumbled, staring at Sannes' companion. He wasn't a part of the police, she was sure of it. His clothes - buggy shirt and ripped jeans - further confirmed her suspicion. Who was he then? And why was he making her feel so uneasy?

"A case?" Sannes' companion asked, flashing Petra an awfully smug grin. "You're talking about the recent murders, right? I've heard they're pretty gruesome," even as he said this, the smile didn't leave his face. Petra's skin prickled in alarm. There was something about this man - she couldn't quite pinpoint what exactly - but something about him was disturbing. Her guts feelings were screaming, telling her to get away from him.

"Do you have a suspect already?" he continued, oblivious to her discomfort. Before Petra could even start thinking what to reply, the man beat her to it. "I've heard Zeke Yeager is the culprit, is it true?"

"It's not," Sannes interfered, the smile on his face wavered, turning into a grimace. He grasped the elbow of his companion, his grip so tight Petra wondered if it would leave bruises. "Forgive him, Ral. He's a new intern, and there is much he has to learn."

"For example, he should know that Zeke Yeager had been dead for two years," Petra offered with innocent expression.

"Um, yeah," Sannes nodded. He avoided looking her in the eyes, and watching him squirm, Petra internally cheered.

"Anyway, we should go, I was just finishing giving him a tour around the precinct."

"Good luck," she smiled. "Hope you'll enjoy your new workplace, intern," she added, not bothering to hide the sarcasm.

The intern glared at her, breathing heavily. He obviously wanted to say something, but the grip Sannes had on his elbow and the death looks he had been sending him, persuaded him to keep his mouth shut. Sannes gave him a rough shove, pushing him in another direction.

"See you, Ral," he said and walked away.

Petra watched them go, the cogs turning in her head. How could this man know about Zeke? Except from her, Levi and Captain Erwin, no one could know that he's considered a suspect. No one could know that he's considered alive. Then how did Sannes find out? How did this man find out? Who was he? Why did he make her feel so nervous? And where did she—

Oh.

Petra finally remembered. The witness testimony. The tall man with dark curly hair. He fitted the description perfectly. Could it really be him? Why would Sannes conspire with a killer, though? And why would he ask after Zeke? Could it be that—

No, Petra rejected the idea even before it was fully formed in her mind. It was too outlandish, ridiculous.

However... Her gut was telling her otherwise. She needed to check it. And she already knew how to get closer to the truth. It wasn't a good plan, stupid even, Levi would never agree to it. Luckily, Petra knew someone, who could help.

She turned around, heading into another wing of the precinct.

She needed to find Oluo.

 ***

"Erwin?" Levi called, knocking on the door of his office. "It's me, Levi. Are you in here? Can I come in?"

"Wait for a bit please!" Erwin shouted behind the door. "I'm busy."

"Asshole," Levi muttered, leaning against the wall. "First calls me here and now he's busy."

Just as he prepared to glare at the door before Erwin finishes with whatever he was doing, his phone started vibrating in the back pocket of his pants. He took it out, staring at the screen. He received a message. From unknown number. Frowning in confusion, he opened the message.

Still alive and kicking. Don't worry shorty :D

Levi huffed. He didn’t worry. He was just slightly curious about her wellbeing. Before he could start typing his response, two new messages appeared.

don't give erwin shit btw. He kept it a secret because i asked him to.

don't you dare punch him, levi. I will know. And I won't be pleased about it.

Levi rolled his eyes, feeling the familiar annoyance stir inside him. The annoyance he hadn't felt for two years. He bit down a smile, typing a quick reply. 

Just as he was finishing, the door to Erwin's office opened. Nile Dawk, the captain of special enforcement unit, and Dot Pixis, the captain of property and crime scene unit, walked out.

Dawk looked grim as he pushed past Levi, not sparring him a glance. Pixis, however, was as cheerful as always.

"Good day, detective," he said, clasping Levi's shoulder. "How are you doing?"

"Great," Levi pushed himself off the wall. "Excuse me, Captain, but I need—"

"Of course," Pixis winked. "Have a nice, productive shift!"

"Sure," Levi mumbled, giving him a weird look.

"What the fuck was that about?" he asked Erwin as soon as he closed the door to his office. "Since when you're buddies with Pixis and Dawk?"

“It’s important to maintain a friendly relationship with other units.”

“Don’t give me that crap,” Levi plopped down onto a chair in front of Erwin’s desk. “What are you planning this time?”

Erwin turned his face to the side, hiding a smile. “It’s too early to tell.”

“Whatever,” Levi mumbled, sitting back in the chair. If Erwin wanted to keep his secrets, so be it. He didn’t give a shit.

No, Levi instantly corrected himself. There was one secret that he did give a shit about. And Erwin kept it from him purposefully.

“Don’t you dare punch him,” the voice in his head reminded him. Of course, it was Hange’s.

The temptation to defy her was big, but he'd try to keep it together. For her sake.

"So?" Levi crossed hands on his chest. "What did you call me here for?"

"Ah, yes," Erwin got to his feet, reaching the cupboard next to his desk and taking two cups from it. "I wanted to ask how you're doing," he started making tea for them, facing away from Levi. "It was a difficult day for you."

"That it was," Levi agreed, boring his eyes into Erwin's back. "But it got better. I met someone. An old friend."

"Oh?"

He continued watching Erwin, waiting for his reaction.

"Yeah, four-eyes said hello."

Erwin froze. Just for a second, but he did.

"Levi, I'm sorr—"

"No," Levi said harshly. "No, you're not."

To his credit, Erwin didn't try to protest. He carefully put the teacups on the desk and then sat back in his chair.

"For how long?" Levi asked. "For how long did you know?"

Erwin sighed. "For almost a year."

Fuck. Levi gripped the arms of a chair so tightly the old wood creaked. He wanted to kick the desk in front of him. Wanted to take that damn teacup and smash it against the wall. How could they? How could they hide it from him for so long?

"You know how much I care for her," he began, his voice calm despite the emotions swirling inside of him. "You knew how much I grieved, how much I've missed her. And you let me suffer."

"I know that you feel betrayed, Levi. I know that you're angry," Levi scoffed. Angry? That was an understatement. He was fucking furious. "But you must understand - I couldn't tell you."

"And why the fuck not?"

"Hange asked me."

"But why? Why did she ask you to keep it from me?"

Erwin's eyes softened. "You know why, Levi. You know why she wanted to keep you away. You wouldn’t let her go. And you wouldn't have let her follow through with her plan."

"So you agree with that idiotic plan?"

"No," Erwin answered firmly. "I want to get Zeke as much as she does. But I'm not going to sacrifice Hange's life to do it."

Levi exhaled. He didn't even know it, but he was afraid to hear Erwin's answer. He was afraid that he lost an ally in the battle against Hange's stubbornness and martyr complex.

"So you have another plan?"

"Yes," Erwin nodded.

"And Hange doesn't know about it?"

"Not yet."

"That's why you're conspiring with Pixis and Dawk, right?" Levi guessed.

"Like I said," Erwin clenched his jaw, determination shining in his gaze. "I'm working on it."

After hearing this, most of the tension left Levi's body. He slumped in the chair, reaching out for his teacup.

"That's it?" Erwin raised an eyebrow. "You're not going to even punch me?"

Levi made a face. "Hange asked me to spare you."

Well, she didn't ask, but ordered him. Obviously, Erwin didn't need to know that.

"Ah, I should thank her then," Erwin chuckled. "She saved my life after all."

"Don't be so dramatic," Levi rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't have punched you that hard. Maybe, just broke your nose or jaw."

"Yeah," Erwin winced, rubbing his nose. "I'm glad we could avoid that."

Levi was glad too. If he really broke Erwin's nose, it would be such a mess. There'd be so much blood, and he'd have to clean it all by himself. Yeah, good thing they avoided it.

"Something still bothers you," Erwin noted, lifting the cup to his lips. "Care to share it with me?"

As always, Erwin was right. There was something that he couldn't stop thinking about. It plagued him ever since that kiss Hange planted on his cheek. And it began tormenting him after his morning conversation with Petra.

"Do Hange and I look like a couple?"

Erwin choked, coughing and spluttering tea all around his table. Levi tsked, rushing to Erwin's side to clasp his back a few times.

"What the fuck Levi?" he croaked out in between his coughs. "You can't just ask things like that."

"What?" Levi frowned. "It was a simple question. Petra mentioned it today. She thought, no, she was convinced that Hange and I," Levi cringed a little. "That we are romantically involved."

"Well," Erwin straightened in his seat, wiping his face with a handkerchief. "She's not the only one who thinks about you two that way."

"What?" Levi's eyes widened. "Who is it?" he demanded.

Erwin smiled. "Pretty much everyone at the precinct thought you were dating."

"But we— we did not," Levi protested helplessly.

"I know," Erwin comforted him. "Why does it bother you, though? It's just gossip, you were never the one to care what people say behind your back."

"And I still don't. I just— something happened last night," Levi closed his eyes for a second, recalling that small moment. "Hange— she kissed me. On a cheek!" he clarified, seeing Erwin's shocked expression. "You know four-eyes, she doesn't know what personal space is, but— it made me feel, I don't know, warm inside? I wanted her to do it again," he paused, taking a breath. This convention was making him feel so damn embarrassed, but he already started it. May as well finish it. "I remembered then, that warm feeling. It appeared frequently before you know," he shook his head. "Hange's death or whatever the fuck it was, but I was too busy then to stop and think about it. And after Hange was gone, I didn't really want to think about it. So, what do you think, Erwin? Could it be—"

"I don't know," Erwin said earnestly. "I'm not an expert in relationship, Levi. Especially, em, that kind of relationship, but... You have time. Hange's back, and I'll make sure, do my damnedest to make sure that she's back for good. You can figure it out together."

"Together, huh," Levi repeated. He liked the sound of it.

After all, that's when Hange and he were at their best. When they were together.

 ***

Back from the dead for less than a day and already getting on my nerves, four-eyes?

Staring down at the phone, Hange grinned. As she thought about his grumpy face, the grin grew wider.

"What are you smiling at?"

Hange quickly put the phone back into the pocket of Levi's coat. She looked up and saw Pieck and Porco stare back at her.

"Just a text," she said, shoving hands deep into the coat's pockets.

"A text?" Pieck arched an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you've got yourself a date or something."

"I don't have a date or something," Hange mimicked Pieck’s voice, earning a glare from her. "Just a friend."

Pieck continued to watch her with narrowed eyes. Hange looked back, still grinning.

"Is it a new coat?" Porco asked, interrupting their staring contest. "It's nice."

"You've got the wrong size," Pieck commented. "It's too small on you."

"Ah," Hange scratched the back of her head. "It was the last one."

"Hm," Pieck finally looked away. "We should go. The faster we deal with the job, the better."

"Aw, you don't want to spend more time with me, Pieck?" Hange nudged her in the side. "And here I thought we were becoming friends..."

Pieck sighed, shifting her gaze to Porco. "Bye, Pock. Talk to you later."

Then she started walking and Hange had no choice but to follow.

"So," she began, falling into step with her. "What Zeke wants us to do?"

"Check some of the local businesses, demand the protection money, threaten if they refuse. The usual stuff."

Hange let out a barely audible sigh. She hated this kind of work the most. Looking into the pleading faces of helpless owners, taking from them more than they could give - it was the worst. She still had to do it, though. She had to keep her cover. At least, today Floch wasn't her companion. Pieck, as sarcastic as she was, was a much, much preferred partner.

"You're spacing out again," Pieck's bored voice brought Hange back to present.

"Huh? I'm not."

"You've been doing it a lot today,” Pieck continued, ignoring her protest. “And you... you look happy. I don't think I've ever seen you smile so brightly before. Let's take a turn here," not giving Hange the chance to answer, Pieck grabbed her elbow, stirring her a bit to the left. "It's a shortcut."

"You really don't want spend more time with me than absolutely necessary," Hange noted with a grin. "Don't you enjoy our friendly banter?"

"I do," Pieck said, making Hange whip her head to stare at her. There was a small, bittersweet smile on her pretty face. "Truth be told, I'm going to miss it."

Blinking a few times, surprised by Pieck's words, Hange chuckled. "You're making it sound like I'm going away soon..."

"Don't you?"

Hange stopped abruptly.

"What are you trying to say, Pieck?" she asked, carefully observing her companion.

"I may not be as smart as you Hange,” Pieck huffed. “But I'm not dumb. I notice things too. Zeke's worst nightmare came to life, didn’t it? Your memories, they came back?"

"I—"

"And that means we're screwed, right? You'll take revenge on Zeke and us for lying to you."

"How?" Hange whispered, shocked by Pieck's perception. And here she thought she was so smart, so careful. "How did you find out?"

"It's in your eyes. Well, eye," Pieck sent her a sympathetic look. "It was confused before, lost. Now there is nothing but determination in your gaze."

"You've been staring at me a lot, Pieck," Hange teased, trying to clear the tense atmosphere. And mask her nervousness.

"That's my job."

"Does Zeke know?"

"No," Pieck started walking again, looking straight ahead. "And he won't know. Not from me at least."

"What?" Hange ran to catch up to her. "Why won't you tell him?"

"Because I understand," Pieck replied simply. "Because Zeke ruined your life, lied to you again and again, using your skills and intelligence. Because if I were in your place, I'd be filled with rage and desire to make him pay."

"I..." Hange swallowed a lump in her throat. "Thank you, Pieck. When— when shit hits the fan, I won't involve you. You'll be able to escape, I promise."

"Oi," Pieck smacked her arm. "I didn't tell you this because I wanted to get on your good side, weirdo."

"I know," Hange smiled. "I was going to do it anyway. You..." she faltered, pressing fingers to the patch on her face. "You've been there for me. You've helped me. You could have gotten in trouble with Zeke for that, but you still decided to help me. I won't forget that."

"Don't involve Porco," Pieck blurted out. "I know I'm asking for too much, but—"

"I get it," Hange cut her off. "Your safety won't mean a thing, if he's not safe too."

"I— yes," Pieck nodded. "You really get it."

More than you know, Hange thought, as an image of a certain scowling midget appeared in her mind.

"For how long have you known?" Hange she asked Pieck casually. "About me getting my memories back?"

"Almost a year."

So she figured her out almost instantly. Not bad, Hange decided with a weird sense of pride.

"And Zeke? He still hasn't caught up?"

That was weird. Zeke was exceptionally smart. Could it really be that he still didn't know?

"Maybe, he suspects it. But I think he doesn't want to believe it."

"How come?" Hange frowned. She was utterly confused. She always thought that if Zeke were ever to find out about her memory coming back, he'd deal with her instantly.

"Because he needs you. Don't sell yourself short, Hange," Pieck scolded. "You're valuable to us. More than you actually realize. You've been two years with us, and during this time we managed to keep ourselves completely below police's radar. Our profits raised, our gang became bigger and we found ourselves new allies. And all of it because of you."

Hange lowered her head, completely flustered. It was a while since anyone had praised her so. There was another thing she needed to know, though. She promised Levi she’d look into his case. And she needed to be sure. If Pieck was right and Zeke actually valued her, then...

"You said Zeke needs me, right? Would he listen to me? Does he value my opinion?"

Pieck knitted her eyebrows together. "Something happened," she didn’t ask, simply stated it. Hange was impressed with her more and more.

"Yes," Hange nodded. "While you and Zeke were on your trip abroad, two women were murdered."

"So? A lot of people die in this city."

Hange shook her head. "Not like this. The way these women were killed - it's obvious that someone is trying to set Zeke up," Hange didn't give to shits about Zeke, anyone who tried to get him behind bars was a friend. But they've taken two innocent lives. And they hurt Levi. She wouldn't let them get away with that. "If I tell him about it—"

"You'll have to tell him the truth then. About your memory coming back. It won't end well, Hange," Pieck warned.

"I know," If Zeke will find out about it, it'd destroy all of her carefully constructed plans. She was willing to take that chance, though. Her revenge could wait. "I won't be facing him alone. I— I'm planning on bringing backup."

"Backup?" Pieck repeated incredulously. "You'll have to find someone good, someone who would be able to make him reconsider killing you on a spot. Someone who can actually scare Zeke."

"Don't worry," Hange grinned. "I know just the guy."

And taking out her phone, she typed a short message.

Hey partner, wish to remember the good old days?

[127-mile]

Now that we found love.

Pairing : ceo!Suh Johnny x black widow!Reader.

Genre : Rich!au, friends to lovers / Fluff, angst, smut.

Warnings : non-explicit mention of death, mature content (semi-public sex, fingering, slight dirty talk, spit as lube, slight choking, unprotected sex (use protections kids), come eating), alcohol.

Word count : +10k.

Plot : Yn travels a lot, and in each new city, each new country, she is known for being irresistible and for always getting what she wants. She also lures wealthy people into marriage, just before they meet an untimely death. Johnny is a young and wealthy CEO who decided to enjoy a well deserved summer of freedom. Yn knows him, knows his fortune. She wants him. Terribly.

You can't escape my affection, wrap you up in my daisy chains.

A/N : Hello, and welcome to another collab organized by the wonderful @neo-cult-ure​ for summer. We had to choose a song with the word summer, and I picked Summer Bummer by Lana Del Rey. Please, go read the others writers works, and give us feedback, it’ll be much appreciated. + prompt from idea-garden.

"Johnny, let me introduce you to Yn, she's going to do her internship here with you." Mr. Suh says with a thin smile to the boy who nods his head. He's tall, and handsome although a little uncomfortable in his tailored suit. You know Johnny, you were in high school together and from what you've heard from your friends he's still the same. A very nice boy, with a full wallet. Which is of course a plus.

"I hope you take good care of her, and show her everything she needs to know over the next months or so." once more Johnny nods without opening his mouth, lips pursed. "Perfect! Welcome miss." you smile at the man who takes his leave. Then finally you turn to Johnny once more, your smile is more mischevious now. "Daddy's business eh?" He rolls his eyes, of course he remembers you, too. You didn't have the best relationship back then, maybe because you always had fun annoying him.

He never deserved this kind of treatment, but maybe your problem with dealing with your emotions and feelings was the reason, or maybe because you just liked to draw attention on yourself in the worst ways. "I'm kidding Johnny, I'm here to learn, not to annoy you." He sighs, and you don't know if it's a good thing or not, but eventually he opens his mouth. "Don't worry, everyone has the same reaction when they hear that I work here. Come on, I'll show you your office."

Coming from a person like Johnny Suh, it was to be expected that he would work in his father's company. Such a large, wealthy, and influential company is held for generations, and Johnny being an only child belongs in this place. "It's cool I think, working here. No matter what happens during your school years, you know you have a comfortable place waiting for you, with an office overlooking the city, and a good pay in the end of each month."

Johnny stays silent, and he gets on the elevator. The climb to the 20th floor is silent, and tense. Maybe that wasn't the best way to start a conversation, and start a friendship. But no one can resist your charms, so you know that at one point or another, he'll crack and open up more to you. Being so charming is one of the reasons your wallet looks so awesome at your age, especially for a student. But he doesn't need to know that detail.

Finally, he walks to a room which is large and contains several desks. He shows you one of them. "There you go, this is where you will be." You think he's going to leave, but instead he takes his place behind the desk which is in front of you and only separated by a transparent screen. At least if you're bored, you'll have plenty of time to admire Johnny. "So tell me. What are we doing?" you try to look excited to help relax Johnny, and that seems to work for a second since he doesn't frown anymore. "Not much, we take care of the photocopies, the simple contracts, and if you're unlucky enough to run into an idiot, you'll make the coffee."

Well, you couldn't expect to do anything more interesting. "Good thing, I love making coffee." at least that remark has a knack for making Johnny laugh, and it's nice to hear. To be honest, you didn't apply to do your internship at this company because you dream of running a business that is worth millions of dollars. Rather because you dream of emptying the pockets of the people who work there. You see, you had the best example growing up. Your mother had a knack for bringing different men home over the years, and eventually they all disappeared. And when they disappeared, the house got bigger, and the car more luxurious. It didn't take long for you to figure out what was going on. Your mother was a black widow. And you wanted to be one too.

You grew up in luxury, and you plan to grow old in luxury.

One month is enough to change your relationship with Johnny. You even start to regret having bothered him so much in school, because he is adorable, and he thinks of others before thinking of himself. He is intelligent, and well spoken. You enjoy being in his presence, that's a fact.

And to be honest, if bringing so many men to your feet weren't your main mission for the future, you might fall in love with Johnny. And even with said mission, it's hard for you to resist his charm. Yes, you have a natural charm, but so does he. Besides, you are breathless when you see him, in a costume that costs probably three times your rent, talking to his father.

The company decided to throw a party to celebrate the end of your 3 months internship, so Johnny decided to put everything on his physique. With his black hair slicked back, and the thin glasses that are held by a gold chain around his neck. You shake your head, and you walk into the room where several of your future former colleagues greet you. You smile, and you gladly accept the glass of champagne offered to you. While waiting for Johnny to realize your presence, you speak with several people. Little unnecessary conversations, but after a while you feel a hand resting on your shoulder.

"You are radiant tonight! Excited to leave us?" Johnny asks, and you smile as you face him. Yes, even if the internship is over, Johnny will continue to come and work with his father when his schedule allows it. "Not really, I'll miss seeing you bump into desks and knock down coffees."

Johnny, on top of his 6ft pouts, and you bite your lip so as not to laugh. He's adorable, but you're sure it would be frowned upon to approach him to squich his cheeks. "I am not doing it on purpose !" he finally said with an offended expression. You drink the last sip of your champagne, and you put your glass on the nearest table. "Of course not! But really, I will miss you." it's the truth, you got attached to that big idiot.

Johnny's smile is triumphant and you roll your eyes. "I'll miss you too, but we'll meet again." you don't know when, since you're going to go back to university, and you don't know where you will even be in a few months, but you nod your head. "Of course! You owe me seven coffees, and I intend to charge you for them one by one."

The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. You laugh with Johnny as you accumulate glasses of champagne, and when the guests start to leave, you feel good. And tipsy. Johnny isn't in a better shape, he laughs a lot and makes jokes that would be considered inappropriate if they didn't make you laugh so much.

And his hand has found its place in your lower back every time you moved around the room. Eventually it's time for you to leave too so you greet the last guests including Johnny's dad and you leave the building. Yes, you will miss this building with those large windows and the magnificent view they offer over the city. Johnny follows you closely, whispering everything and nothing until he pulls up in front of a car with an engine running.

"You want a ride home ?" He asks, and you nod your head. You've got your car in the parking, but you're not stupid enough to take it with so much alcohol in your body. A chauffeur gets out, and he opens the back door. You wolf-whistle and he laughs. "Well well Johnny Suh has his own chauffeur !"

You sit by the window, and Johnny takes a seat in the middle. His thigh against yours, you let your head fall on his shoulder. It's silent, at least until you open your mouth. "I'm so sorry, you know. For bothering you so much at school." Some people have it nasty, or sad, or even horny because of alcohol, but when it comes to you, alcohol forces you into a guilty mode. And that's not fun. "Eh it's fine, don't feel bad about it. It was years ago." you raise your head, and your eyes meet Johnnys' who is smiling softly. You lean over and place a little kiss on the corner of his lips. "You shouldn't be so nice Johnny."

When the car pulls up in front of your apartment complex, the driver helps you get out without hitting your head or tripping over the sidewalk. You raise your eyebrow, and you watch Johnny for a second. "I will miss you, Suh." you lean over the opened window to kiss his cheek and with those words, you turn on your heels.

The car's door closes, as does this chapter of your life.

Five years have passed since the departure party organized at the Suh company. And boy, things have happened in five years.

First, you graduated. Not that you use those three years of schooling to do something useful, but it is something you can brag about every now and then.

Second, you deepened your work as a black widow. If you initially only used your charms to get money from old people in need of attention, now you get a lot more. You live in constant luxury. You travel the world, you visit wonderful places, and each time, you leave with a little more money in your bank account. A bit more ? Who are you kidding? With a lot more.

Third, you haven't seen Johnny again. Well, you've seen him several times in five years, but not in person. You've seen him on the cover of magazines, in interviews, and on television. Johnny has become one of the youngest, wealthiest, and most beautiful CEOs. Nothing really surprising.

And above all, he has become your next prey.

Normally, you are satisfied with old people who do not necessarily have a family who will worry about seeing him fall in love with a young girl like you. And above all, you don't attack people you already know. But Johnny .. Johnny has something you want. Youth, money. And it's an experience that couldn't hurt you, right ?

If you thought you could have fallen in love with him when you were younger, you have changed now, you have matured and you no longer succumb to the charms of anyone around you. You have nothing to fear.

And summer seems like the perfect time to have him.

Johnny decided it was time for him to take his first vacation since taking over the family business. And fortunately, you had a friend who still worked with the Suh family, ready to give you the information you needed for a small financial compensation. So here you are.

"Keep laughing, and I'm going to hurt you." you mumble while bringing the blanket over your face to prevent the rays of sunshine from dazzling you. You feel movement next to you, and immediately, Ten's laughter echoes right in your ear, which makes you growl. "You little shit!" he laughs harder, encircling your body with his arms and you fidget to withdraw from his embrace, the room is too hot, you don't need that extra warmth.

You stop moving when Ten puts his head on your chest, and you think you can enjoy a few more minutes of sleep, but it is too much for Ten who gets his phone to finish watching the video that clearly woke you up. "Why are you even awake? It's too early." Ten is used to sleeping late, and you don't know why this morning is different. "You were snoring." he deadpanned.

You punch him in the shoulder, and he squeaks before sitting down, rubbing his bare skin. "Why did you do that?" He asks, a pout on his face and you sigh. "I don't snore." you take your phone from the charger and whine at the time on the screen : 7:04am. The jetlag is still rough on you even after two weeks, or is that just you growing older, all you wanted was to spend your day in bed, but obviously, Ten had other ideas.

"What are we doing today ?" Ten asks and you shrug. "You, I don't know, but I have someone to see." Ten frowns, he's annoyed that he's always the last to know about your plans. It must have been 4 years since he joined your little shenanigans after the sudden death of his father, and yet, it's like you don't trust him enough. "I thought we were here to enjoy some time off ? Didn't you say you needed a break ?"

You get up from the bed and laugh softly. Ten is adorable, that's something you know for sure. But he's even more naive, that would make him almost endearing. "Oh, honey. I don't have time for a day off. Maybe in two or three years from now." you never thought about ending your little black widow career. You're having too much fun, and the feeling of having a full bank account is divine. "But you are welcome to leave, if you want."

The subject of his departure is put on the carpet every time you move to a new place, but he never did. He never left. On one hand, he likes the luxury life that you offer him too much, and on the other, he is afraid that you will not let him get away with it so easily because he knows all your secrets. And he's right, you will never let him leave you. Or maybe you will. In a body bag.

"That's what I thought," you say when Ten stays silent, avoiding your gaze. You take your purse, and take out a credit card to throw it on his lap. "Go have fun. Treat yourself, find yourself a cute little thing to bring back home tonight." With these words, you lock yourself in the bathroom for a long shower. The water is hot, and it leaves your skin burning, incredible. When you go out, a towel wrapped around your chest, you hear the water coming from the second bathroom, which means that Ten is getting ready to go out too. It's still early, so you definitely have time to eat breakfast with him before you go looking for your new prey.

"Breakfast ?" you ask when Ten return to the room, with his usual mischievous smile. The conversation already forgotten, and you can thank the credit card for that. Ten likes pretty things, and you like to make him happy, it's a good deal. Together, you leave the house to a small café you discovered the day you moved here. The house offers a magnificent view of the sea. In the height of summer, the heat is overwhelming, so you promise to go for a walk on the beach when the sun goes down. And if you're lucky enough, maybe you won't be alone.

The small town begins to fill with tourists who go to the beach. You stop to admire a few shops, barely listening to Ten, and after a little while, you enter said café. The boy behind the counter smiles at you, offering you a view of beautiful dimples. "Good morning, what can I do for you?" He asks in a soft voice, music to your ears. "Two iced Americano, please." He nods, and he turns to prepare the drinks.

"There you go, enjoy!" He tells you by handing you the plastic cups after you've paid. This is the problem of having a new prey, you have no idea how long it will take before you see them, or before you have the opportunity to speak to them. It's boring to say the least, but it's worth it. Well, you hope that Johnny will be worth it, and if it is not the case, well you'll go to the next one.

You sit by the glass window, Ten facing you. He sighs, and you tilt your head to the side. "A penny for your thoughts?" he shrugs before taking a sip of coffee. "Nothing," Ten begins, "why here? You don't like tourists, and most of all, you don't like the beach." He's not wrong, you have always preferred big cities, the bustle, the constant hum of cars, the smell of pollution and above all, the absence of sand. "Because I had no choice." You shrug and Ten shakes his head. He knows he won't have much more information. He's a good boy.

Once your coffee is done, you get up under Ten's curious gaze. "Okay, I have things to do. See you later? Take care of yourself." You bend down, and kiss his forehead, and like a cat, Ten seeks more warmth from your lips. You go out of the little café smiling at the barista, and you walk to the city center. If the message you received earlier was not wrong, your prey should be around the Royal Albion Hotel. So you go there, your hands in the pockets of your thin jacket, and strangely enough, you see him. That was easy. You could say this is beginner's luck, but Johnny is definitely not the first.

Brown hair covering his eyes, the sun giving his skin a beautiful glow, a camera hanging from his neck. Johnny Suh is standing in all his glory. You approach slowly, admiring the width of his shoulders, and the way the gentle breeze rushes through his white shirt.

You tap your index finger on his shoulder, and you clear your throat to make sure to get Johnny's attention. Immediately, he turns and when his gaze meets yours, a smile lights up his face. His beautiful face. "Oh, thank god! For a second I thought I was wrong, that would have been embarrassing." you say in a soft voice, and Johnny's smile doesn't fade, quite the contrary. The rays of sunshine reflect in his eyes which take on a golden hue. "Yn, what a surprise to see you here, it's been so long!" he hugs you for a few seconds before taking a step back to look you up and down. "What are you doing here ?"

"Oh, I needed a break. A break away from the big city, so what about you? Already tired of being the big boss of the Suh's company ?" you tilt your head, truly interested in what he has to say, well, you already know what he is going to tell you, but it's all in the act. The more genuine you look, the more he will trust you. And trust is what you look for the most when you have a new prey. If it works when you don't know your prey, it should also work when you already know it. And you don't think there's a lot of trust left between you after so many years apart.

Johnny shakes his head, his fingers rubbing his camera. "It is tiring, but I quite like it. I just felt like a break could be good." well, you're glad he decided to do that, it's much easier. Of course you could have waited a few more years, waited for his bank account to be fuller but you were never known for being patient. And you didn't have anything on your to-do list as of right now.

"I understand, you deserve to enjoy a little." he nods, a small laugh leaving his full, rosy lips. "You certainly have things to do, I wouldn't want to bother you." to support your words, you look at his camera, and Johnny follows your gaze, never losing his smile. "I wanted some shots of the beach, and maybe of the old village. But we could meet again later, what do you think?" you see, that's the advantage you don't have with a prey you don't know, it's not as easy to have a date or to strike up a conversation.

"Oh, I'd love to. I've been here for a couple of weeks already, maybe you'd like me to show you around? I know a pretty good restaurant." you tilt your head, your voice is overflowing with sweetness and you are almost sickened by it but it seems to work on Johnny whose gaze never leaves you. "That would be amazing, let's meet here at 6pm?" you nod your head, and a sudden surge of confidence makes you step forward to place a small kiss on his cheek.

You turn to wave at him, and you're pretty sure you see him blush, but it could very well be a trick played by the sun. You keep smiling until you get to the house. You have several hours to kill, you might as well spend them somewhere comfortable. You could have invited Johnny over, but you don't want to risk to get caught by Ten either bringing someone new, or with one too many glasses of alcohol clouding his judgment and stopping his brain to mouth filter to work. Ten has a big mouth, and you really don't want him to spill all of your secrets.

Time flies by, and before you know it, you find yourself waiting for Johnny at the same place you found him this morning. He's right on time, and he's still so handsome. His hair is wavy, maybe from the sea air, adorable. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long." is the first thing he says to you when his gaze meets yours and you shake your head. "Not at all, I barely arrived five minutes ago."

The walk to the restaurant is pleasant. Tourists are always on the beach, or already home for a well-deserved shower. Johnny talks about his work, his photographs, the time you were both interns, everything and nothing. It's nice to be in his company, you think, even when the silence sets in, it's not heavy, it's comfortable. Which is rare with you. This is the perks of being old friends.

"Oh my god, I've been talking so much!" Johnny says, sitting across from you in the restaurant. He hides his face with his hands and you laugh softly. He looks like an embarrassed child, not what you would expect from the playboy Johnny Suh. "It's okay, I like hearing you talk!" you smile at him when he finally deigns to show his face, his cheeks a slight reddish tint. "You seem to be really passionate about photography, why didn't you continue in this path ?"

Of course, you know the answer, it's obvious. But you put it down anyway. Johnny sighs, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. "Oh you know, I didn't really have a choice. As an only child, it was obvious that I was going to take over my father's company. I tried to talk to him when I was younger, trying to make him understand that maybe selling the company and retiring would be a good thing, I've never taken such a hard slap in my life." he's laughing, but you can see in his eyes that it's not genuine.

"The idea of being like my father scared me when I was younger. Good grades at school, place in society, a wife and children who will take over when I'm too old to work, a reputation that should not be tarnished at the risk of losing everything. But I think that over time, I got used to the idea." Johnny shrugs, and even though you're here to seduce and manipulate him, your heart hurts for him. Because Johnny is a good person, he deserves to be happy the way he wants. "It's not that bad after all."

You shake your head, you can't afford to have sympathy, or worse, empathy for someone you are going to manipulate and kill. Yes, knowing your prey has many advantages but also disadvantages. You can't afford to be sensitive, and be fooled. "It's sad anyway. Having a child, and not allowing him to live the life he wants, not wanting him to be happy and flourish in the life that he built for himself." Johnny sighs, but before he can open his mouth to answer, he's cut off by the waitress. "It is what it is." he says when she is gone.

"Enough about me, what's up? What has happened in the past five years?" he asks, and you shrug. Of course, you have prepared a speech, the same that you give to all your preys. “Oh, well I graduated, and I realized that wasn't what I wanted to do at all. So I gave myself a year to travel, and to think. I started to get a taste for travelling, for discovering new cultures, so much so that I never stay long in one place. I find small jobs, and when I'm bored, I find my next destination." in a way, you're not really lying. You've spent the last few years traveling, but not for the reasons he thinks.

"But it's tiring in the long run, you know. Not having a place to call home. I know I'm still young, that I can land somewhere, and make a living, start a family, but that's the problem, I don't know where I want to make my life."

Johnny nods, he listens intently, it's like he's drinking your words, and it's genuinely adorable. “I understand,” he begins. "I hope you find the place where you feel comfortable and happy." if he knew this place was going to be his apartment, he would certainly be surprised. But one thing at a time.

"Tell me, heartbreaker, do you have someone in your life? I've read every one of your interviews, and you're still very secret about your private life. Tell me everything." he scoffs, and you put your elbows on the table to get closer to him. You're ready to hear it all, and why would he refuse? You were friends once. "I don't have time for a serious love affair. I have one night stands, but that's it."

You sigh dramatically before taking a sip of the wine. "What do you mean you don't have time for a love story? You don't have time because you don't give yourself time. Maybe that would change if you had someone who was waiting for you at home every nights. Don't you think ? " you ask, tilting your head, and he seems to think about it.

"You're absolutely right. But who would want a man like me? My job is my priority, and it will remain my priority until I reach the age to hand over to someone else." Johnny is really not trying to make an effort. "Listen to me, Suh. You are an amazing man, you are kind, smart and selfless. Your job is your priority because you haven't experienced anything else during the past years. You haven't had the chance to experience love. So of course right now you can't imagine your life without your job in mind, but it will happen, believe me."

The way the dinner turned isn't how you thought it would, but that's okay. You have three weeks to make him fall under your spell, and what better than a serious discussion eh? Fortunately after that, the conversation becomes lighter, and you talk about the memories of your internship. Besides, when you leave the restaurant, you are not yet finished. It is true that there are a lot of things to say.

"Do you remember the departure party, when I brought you home? I was planning to kiss you." He says, giggling. He drank too much wine, and so have you, but it's more visible on him. The tips of his ears are red, and so are his cheeks. It's cute, you can't say otherwise. "Oh yeah? And why didn't you do it?" He shrugs and stops near the beach. "It's your fault! You kissed me on the cheek, you broke the mood!"

"Did I break the mood?" You ask by removing your shoes to put your feet on the sand, wincing at the feeling between your toes, Johnny following you without being asked. "I can't believe it! Say you were afraid of being rejected." He rolls his eyes, and you bite your lip to keep from laughing. To be honest, you have missed that kind of pointless little argument that you always had. "Being rejected? Why? You said it yourself, I'm an amazing man."

Using your own words against you is dirty, but you're laughing. You walk towards the water, and even if you can't see him, you can feel Johnny's presence behind you. "You know, if you had kissed me, maybe you wouldn't have to come into an empty house every night."

After that evening, you saw Johnny every day for an entire week. Whether it was to go for a coffee, or to take pictures, you were inseparable. And you found out that he was more than his good physique and his incredible smile. Once again, you found yourself stuck. Because once again, you knew that you could fall in love with him if you were not careful.

When you told Ten about Johnny, he advised you not to do it, not to choose him. He said it might get you in trouble, and maybe even put you in danger and you start to think that for once, maybe he was right. As for the danger, you don't know if you could ever be, but for the problems ... yes. Because it's hard not to get attached to Johnny, not wanting to hear his melodious laughter every day, and to see him smile at every opportunity.

You hate to admit it, but because of Johnny, you were starting to question your black widow status. You are weak. Weak for Johnny. But it's wrong, you can't afford it. You have to continue with your plan. You will seduce him, make him fall in love with you, and you will end up with your name in his will. Too bad if it hurts, you'll get over it eventually.

Ten noticed the change in your behavior. Because normally, in a week, you are already more involved in the life of your prey. But with Johnny, nothing happened. Not even a kiss. So of course, every time you come home from a day with Johnny, he teases you like the little shit he is. You gotta step up your game before you beat Ten's ass.

That's why you decided to invite Johnny over to the house for the first time. The atmosphere will be nice, and relaxed, maybe that will help you to take it up a gear. "I invited Johnny over to the house for dinner tonight, so if you could leave, it would be nice." Ten barely looks up from his bowl of cereal and he sighs. He's spent his week trying not to cross you or Johnny, mostly because he knows you don't trust him. And he is right.

"Okay." He says as he stand up to throw the rest of his milk in the kitchen sink. "I think I can still find myself a cute little thing." at least he's not bored, because he's charming and people have a hard time resisting him. Luckily, he doesn't kill these people, he just spends a nice night with them and lets them go the next day. Unlike you.

You spend the rest of the day preparing for Johnny's coming. You install fairylights in the garden, you put candles on the table and flowers that you bought earlier. It's pretty, and you might throw up. After a long cold shower, you dress simply, it is way too hot to make a fuss.

And at eight o'clock sharp, Johnny knocks on the door. You open, and you are met with a big smile, and a bouquet of red roses in his hands. "It's for me ?" you ask, tilting your head, and he admires the bouquet. "No, for the neighbor, but I haven't had the chance to see her." you roll your eyes and push yourself to let him in the house. Finally, he gives you the flowers, and you thank him with a kiss on the cheek. "I have everything prepared in the garden, so you can go and sit down while I put the flowers in a vase."

He obeys, and finally you find yourself alone in the kitchen. You have to calm your heartbeat, because this boy really knows how to play with your heart strings without even doing anything. You go out, and  sit down across from Johnny who is too engrossed in his phone to notice you. You clear your throat, but it still doesn't help. "Johnny Suh, if you don't put your phone down right now, I'm going to hurt you." he smiles, and he puts his phone on the table, the screen against the wood. "Ah yes, and how are you going to do that?"

You think for a moment, and get up. Luckily Johnny's chair is pushed out, so you sit on his lap without asking his permission. Even though he looks surprised at your bold action, he puts his hands on your waist, probably to keep you from falling. "I do have a few ideas." with your index finger, you trace shapes on Johnny's chest whose breathing quickens slightly.

"Show me ?" if he insists. You bend down, and you grab his lower lip between your teeth to pull on it. He tenses, and when you pull back, you can see him come forward to chase your lips. Adorable. Then you slide your lips down his jawline to bite the skin, and you end up on his throat which you bite down several times, hard enough to leave a mark that will take on a beautiful purple hue tomorrow. Johnny growls, and you smile, proud of yourself. "Like that, I guess."

"Is that the reason you invited me tonight?" He asks in a low voice and you shake your head, both of your hands on his chest. His hands haven't left your waist, and you avoid thinking about the heat they radiate. "Of course not, I intended to wait until dessert to do that."

"You're sweet enough, no need to wait." with those words, he leans in to kiss you, and you sigh against his lips. You underestimated how bad you wanted to kiss him, taste his soft, plush lips. You wrap your arms around his neck and respond to the kiss. It's cute and sweet at first, and when you feel the tip of his tongue on your lower lip, you open your mouth and then a battle for dominance begins.

His hands slip under your t-shirt and you shudder slightly. His hands are cold and yet his fingers leave a scorching mark on your skin. It is extremely pleasant. "You're driving me crazy, you know that?" he mumbles against your lips before sliding them down your neck. He kisses your skin, and he bites repeatedly. You purse your lips, but when he bites particularly hard, a moan escapes you and he smiles.

"This is what I was looking for." you answer, already out of breath. With a quick movement, you open his shirt and hear the sound of buttons falling to the floor. "Hey!" he gently hits your thigh and you laugh. He's beautifully muscular, and your mouth waters. Your fingers draw the contours of his abs and he takes the opportunity to remove your t-shirt.

His lips attack the top of your chest without delay and you roll your hips against the obvious bulge in his pants. "Shouldn't we go to your room?" He asks and you look at him with a smirk. "Oh, is the big Johnny Suh afraid of being caught?" you tilt your head, and his response is immediate. He gets up, and you squeak. He puts you on the table, forcing your legs open to get in between. "I'm not afraid of anything."

He kisses your belly, and of course, he bites the skin and you squirm under him. You need more, so much more. But Johnny seems to like to tease you since he takes a long time to unbutton your pants and take them off. "Please Johnny." you whine, and he looks at you, eyes darkened with lust. "What do you want ?" you're used to being the most dominant in this kind of situation but Johnny is impressive, and for some reason you feel intimidated when he's around you. And even more so when he has his hands on you.

"Touch me, please." Johnny scoffs, and he strokes the side of your thighs. "This is what I am doing." you sigh, if he wants to play, then you have to play back when it is your turn to have your hands on him. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, his fingers slide down your panties and Johnny notices the wet stain and he bites his lip. "Pretty."

He takes your panties off, and he doesn't waste a moment to collect your wetness on his fingers. You buck your hips, but his free hand pins your down on the table. "No moving. You'll take what I give you." You really wonder what happened to the guy who blushes when you kiss his cheek, because right now he is nowhere to be found. "Come on, don't be a bitch John !" you mutter, and he looks up. "You always have to run your mouth, don't you ?" you feel the heat coming to your cheeks, and he opens his mouth again to talk. "Guess I'll have to put it to use."

You frown, and the thumb of the hand who was pining you down minute ago brushes against your lower lip. You open your mouth and two of his fingers slide inside your mouth. His fingers presse on your tongue and you almost gag which seems to be funny to him. "Good girl. Stay quiet now." The pad of his fingers rub against your clit but before you can try to get any pleasure out of it, the fingers are gone. Not for long because one of them ease itself inside of you and you close your eyes.

Drool gathers on the side of your mouth with Johnny's fingers inside, and you probably already look fucked with red bitten lips and messy hair. "More, more." you plead, but the sound coming out of your mouth is incomprehensible. Johnny seems to understand, because another finger joins the first. He moves his hand slowly, and he is not looking for your g-spot, no, he tries to get you to lose your mind. And honestly ? He is going to succeed.

"Oh, are you crying princess ?" he asks, and you finally feel the tears rolling down your cheeks from frustration. He takes his fingers off your mouth, a string of saliva connecting them to your lips. It's absolutely disgusting, but at the same time, it is arousing. "Please, fuck me John." your voice is broken, throat sore, and yet you haven't even put it to good use. "Eager." he whispers.

Yes, you are eager. You need to feel more of him, to feel everything or you'll really go crazy. You sit up on the table, and wince at the wet feeling between your thighs. And was it that hot outside earlier or is it just your inside boiling? Your hands find Johnny's belt, and you drop it to the floor, before unbuttoning the pants. He slides down Johnny's muscular legs, and with a kick he completely take them off.

His cock is straining in his boxer and it makes your mouth waters a little more. God, you can't wait to have it in you. You palm him through it, and he exhales loudly. "You're so big John." of course he smiles, and you take his boxer down. He is thick, and long and you flick your wrist a few time at the head. You spread precum down his lenght, and when it gets too much, Johnny grabs your wrist. "Enough. Lay down."

You lie down on the table, and you try to find a position that won't break your back, but it's difficult. Fortunately, Johnny didn't put you near the candles, or the plates. Johnny spits into his hand to lubricate his cock some more, and you close your eyes when you feel the head against your hole. Slowly, he eases himself inside and you moan lowly. "Oh fuck."

He bottoms out, and he stays still. As eager as he is, he doesn't want to hurt you and you are thankful for that. "Move, please." he doesn't need to be told twice, so he starts to move. It's slow, but soon enough, it's deep and your hands find his arms. Your nails probably leave crescent marks, but you don't care, and he doesn't either because he growls when he feels the sting.

He pulls back until all you have inside is the head, and he slams his hips against yours. The noise you let out is loud, and lewd. Your neighbors probably picked up of what was happening and it makes the all moment way more exciting. His thrusts are more brutal, and you roll your eyes. You can already feel the heat in the pit of your stomach and it is embarassing how quick you could reach your climax but Johnny is good. Yes he is really good. "You're so tight, it's like you were made to take my dick." you moan at that, who thought he would have a dirty mouth.

"Yes yes, just for you." you mumble and his hand finds your throat. He doesn't apply any pressure, but the feeling of his fingers is maddening, like his pace. Your legs are shaking, and Johnny is smiling. He feels how you squeeze around his cock and he knows you're close. He is too, he can almost taste his orgasm on the tip of his tongue. He frowns when your hand lands on the one around your throat, but he quickly understands. "Slut." he presses his fingers to cut your air flow and it seems to do the trick because without any warning, your orgasm washes over you.

You see stars, and you whine because of the oversensitivity but Johnny doesn't really care, right now, he is chasing his own pleasure. When he feels it, he pulls out, which makes you sob. You wanted to feel so full, so so bad. "Later baby." he strokes his cock over your tummy and he cums with a loud moan. Long strikes of white land on your skin.

Johnny stops his movement, and he drops on the chair behind him. He is breathless, his hair stick to his forehead and his chest is glistening with sweat. "Fuck." you sit down, wincing at the pain in your back. You run two fingers through the cum on your stomach, and when you know Johnny is watching you, you slip your fingers in your mouth, licking them clean. He groans, throwing his head back. "You're so fucking dirty, you're going to make me hard again."

"We should shower." you say, and he nods. Before he can run inside the house, you make grabby hands toward him and he rolls his eyes. "You're such a baby !" but he still helps you on your legs and hold you close while you tell him where the bathroom is.

After another round in the shower, you find yourself tucked in bed, your head on Johnny's chest. His breathing is steady, so as yours. You haven't feel so relaxed in a long time, and you know it is the same for Johnny. He kisses the top of your head, a peaceful smile on his face before yawning. "Yes, maybe I should have kissed you that night." is the last thing he says before both of you are too tired to keep your eyes open.

That's what you wanted to hear. You have him wrap in your daisy chains.

When you open your eyes, the first thing you feel is the emptiness next to you, and the coolness of the sheets. For good measure, you roll on the other side of the bed, and you inhale the scent on the pillow. Yes, Johnny did spend the night here, it was not just a mirage. You sit up, a pout on your face. Has he already left? And without a word? Your heart tightens at the idea.

You want nothing but to get some more sleep, to forget Johnny's absence, but voices are suddenly reaching you. You get up, grabbing the first clothes you can find, and walk to the kitchen. It smells like pancakes, and you close your eyes for a second to enjoy it. You have barely entered the kitchen when your gaze falls on Johnny and Ten. They talk while cooking. Ten nudges Johnny with his shoulder to push him off the stove before he burns the pancakes on the pan.

"Good morning ?" you ask, and two pairs of eyes turn to you. Both boys smile, and you bite your lip when you see the marks on Johnny's neck. He is even more attractive in the early morning, which is not fair. "Oh, good morning Yn! Johnny was ready to set the kitchen on fire when I got home, so I'm helping him with breakfast!" Ten says.

Johnny puts the wooden spatula on the counter even though he only used it to hit Ten, and he walks in your direction and you tilt your head. "I thought you were gone." you mumble and he cups your face in his hands. "Why would I have done that?" he leans over and kisses you tenderly. You are not going to lie, you feel your heart racing, but you push this feeling very far. "Can you stop? Not everyone is happy and in love, it's disgusting!"

Johnny laughs against your lips at Ten's words, and he pulls back, taking your hand, and leading you into the kitchen. "Sit down." you take a seat on a stool around the kitchen island, and Johnny puts down some fruit he has sliced, and some orange juice all under Ten's disgusted gaze. "Don't be jealous Ten, you'll find someone as perfect as Yn someday." This hurts more than you would have thought, because you are not perfect, you are not even close. Johnny is just too good.

After that night together, the dynamics of your relationship changed completely. From childhood friends, you became lovers. And everyday you feel horrible. You don't deserve Johnny, he's way too good. And even Ten is catching up on the situation. When Johnny is at home, and he's around, he gives you sideways glances, and when you're alone, he asks you every time if it's a good idea to continue. Yes it is. It's too late to turn back.

Today is Johnny's last day. Tomorrow he will be flying back home, and in a few days he will be back behind his desk running one of the biggest companies. And you see it by the way he talks, the way he's lost in his thoughts, that he's wondering what will happen with you after that. Because he knows what you think about the idea of ​​officially landing somewhere. This is a discussion you must have, and now is the best time.

You walk on the beach with Johnny, your fingers intertwined. And you couldn't ask for better company. "So, did you pack your bags?" you ask, and he remains silent. The beach is almost deserted, except for couples enjoying the last rays of the sun. "John?" you stop, and he follows you, turning to you. "Is everything okay ?"

He remains silent, but he opens his mouth to speak. "Summer relationships often have no future. When summer is over, so does the relationship." his voice is low, and his gaze is on the sand which he finds extremely interesting. "Why do you say that ?" you ask and he shrugs. "That's what it is, isn't it?" you put your hand on his cheek, and he finally lifts his head. You smile softly, his expression is painful, but you intend to make him smile very quickly.

"Maybe it's like that for other people, but that doesn't mean it has to be for us, don't you think?" at your words, his eyes open wide, and you can't help but smile. "You can be the reason I stop running. I can be the person waiting for you at home at night, what do you think?"

Johnny doesn't need to think, that's what he wants. He never wanted something as strong as having you by his side. When he decided to take a vacation away from work, he never thought he would fall in love with someone as surprising and incredible as you. "I think it's a really good idea." he leans over and kisses you. The situation looks really cliché, a passionate kiss on the beach, as the sun sets after making a decision that will change your lives. And yet, you don't mind. And god damn it you wish it was all true.

"Come home with me." he whispers against your lips, and the word "home" is enough to make your heart beat faster. You never thought of having a house, a place where you could be happy, too adamant on working more, but Johnny makes you want that life. It's chaos in your head. On one hand, you feel ready to put an end to your little illegal career, but on the other hand, you don't know if you will end up getting bored of this well-planned little life. You don't want Johnny to suffer when you decide to leave in the middle of the night.

"Okay .." you answer, and Johnny's smile is so beautiful and so bright that you force yourself to put the future in the back of your head. You allow yourself to take advantage of this moment of peace when the world no longer exists. Nothing exists except you and Johnny. Nothing. No one.

You did it.

In the hour following your talk on the beach with Johnny, you told Ten you were going to leave with Johnny. Ten didn't say anything, but you read the many questions he had on his face. Of course, you didn't leave him on the street. You gave him money, enough to live more than comfortably for the next few years, and you said goodbye to each other. Not for long, because Ten decided to rent an apartment near you, at least while he figured out what to do with his life.

As for you, you moved in with Johnny. Of course, he gave you the choice. You could either stay as long as you needed to find an apartment, or you could stay officially. And you chose the latter. Life with Johnny is calm, and passionate at first. Of course, the start of a new love is always amazing, passionate, and raw. This is the time when you get to know each other in every way possible, the time when you see if you are truly meant for each other.

And ... it hurts you to admit it but you and Johnny are meant to be together. A match made in heaven. You have different characters, but you complet each other in a way. Johnny changes. He comes home earlier, and he's a lot less stressed because he has someone waiting for him. And he's never been happier. Everything is perfect.

Except it isn't.

Ten is bored, and so are you. You often find yourself in his small apartment to talk about the years you spent together. And yes, you miss it. Johnny gives you everything you could have dreamed of, but not the adrenaline rush you crave every day. You need this, it's an addiction.

"I can't kill him, Ten. As much as I want to go back to our old life, I refuse to hurt him." you whisper one evening when Johnny had to leave in a two days business trip. "So don't kill him. Spare him." you laugh bitterly. "And what am I supposed to do then?" Sometimes Ten wonders how you managed to last almost two years without him, and when he tells you about his plan, you wonder too. You've wanted to get rid of him so many times, and yet he's the voice of wisdow you need.

Today is the day.

You are in Johnny's arms when you open your eyes. The sun is not up yet, you can see it through the curtains. Johnny's body radiates a pleasant warmth, and it takes a lot to lift yourself off. You watch him sleep peacefully for several minutes, sliding your fingers over his face, as if you want to memorize every detail. You lean over and kiss his lips. Pink and plush like the first time you kissed him.

"I love you."

You get up in silence, and you walk towards the guest room. Johnny never comes into this room, that's why you left your suitcases without being afraid he would find them when he came back the night before. You bring them near the front door, being careful not to knock them, or trip down the stairs. Finally, everything is ready. It is time. But first, you make one last stop by the room. Johnny hasn't moved.

You put a letter on the pillow where you used to sleep. It's the first thing he'll find when he wakes up. You could have texted him before throwing your phone in the trash, but that's more sincere. It is time. You open the door, and you see Ten waiting in a rental car near the house. He goes out, and in silence, he helps you put your suitcases in the trunk.

"Let's go ?" he asks, and you nod. And as the car drives off, Johnny is awakened by the noise. He turns around, ready to hug you back to sleep, but he can't find anyone. His fingers scratch a piece of paper which he grabs. He rubs his eyes with his free hand, and he turns on the bedside light.

"Johnny, I love you. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone, and I know that will never change. We will meet again when the time is right, I promise. I'll always find you." Johnny's voice is low, and suddenly, a sob echoes in the empty room. And in the car. The sound of broken hearts.

Another five years passed since you've last seen Johnny.

He tried to contact you, but each time he encountered a robotic voice telling him the number was not available. He tried to look for you, to look for Ten, but each time he found nothing but emptiness. He hired a private investigator, and he was close to finding you, but you noticed him before he noticed you. And after that long, crazy year, Johnny gave up.

On your side, you continued to travel with Ten. He never left you, and you were delighted about it. And also grateful. You don't know where you would be without him, as annoying as he is. But after five years, you feel it, it's time for you to quit. Ten has found love, and he plans to settle down and have a family. And you know love is waiting for you somewhere in an office, stressed and tired from several sleepless nights.

You don't regret anything. You have been lucky enough to travel the world, and have enough money for three more than comfortable lives and not once have you had problems. Of course, you don't know what the future holds for you on the legal side, but you don't think about it. You never thought about the future too seriously, you don't intend to start, not from that side. You have other things to do.

You have to find Johnny.

Finding Johnny isn't difficult in itself, but approaching him is. You can't afford to enter the Suh building, not without an appointment or for no good reason, so you decide to do what you can do best. Walk into people's lives without them asking for anything, but this time with Johnny's apartment. He hasn't moved, probably too busy for that, and it's not difficult for you to open the door.

Nothing has changed. The same photos are hanging on the wall, and it doesn't seem to have taken more than the last time you saw them, and if the apartment had become more cozy when you were there, it's forgotten. No more soft blankets on the sofas, plants on the furniture, flowers on the table. Just a model apartment. Tonight is like waiting for a new prey, you don't know how long you will have to wait before seeing them, how long they'll take to get home.

First you should stop referring Johnny as a prey. This life is behind you, and even if you can't explain it to him, you intend to make him understand too. You prepare the meal, and you set the table. You put out candles, and you sit down while waiting.

It is almost midnight when the door opens. If the living room lights weren't on, Johnny would probably have gone to bed without even having a bite to eat, but luckily he is caught by the light. He walks into the dining room, careful. He frowns when he sees you, but his expression changes to surprise. You get up to take a step in his direction. He's not moving, he's just watching your every move.

"Good evening, Johnny." you say in a soft voice, and you help him to get rid of his jacket that you put on the back of a chair. He remains silent. "I made dinner, I hope you're hungry." he sits on the chair you occupied a little earlier. "What are you doing here ?" he finally asks, and you breathe. You were starting to fear his reaction.

"I told you I'd find you again when the time is right. And it is."

[minniepetals]

utlsf; epilogue

— summary: a beautiful love story you share with your Lords of the Underworld after the most difficult trial of your life is finally over.

— pairing: underworld lords!bts x shield!reader

— genre: fluff, slight angst / reincarnation!au / poly!au / gods!au

— word count: 14.8k

— warnings: implied love making

➵ until the last star falls

Yoongi is so beautiful especially when he lays in bed, vulnerable to all, letting his guard down.

You trace the outline of his face, his brows, his eyes, his nose, and his lips. The two of you are the only ones remaining in the room, having yet to wake and get ready for the day. You don't know where the rest of your Lords are but the only one occupying your thoughts at the moment is Yoongi.

He's beautiful.

You cup his face in your small palms, bopping his nose once then lean up to place two little pecks on his sweet lips.

He feels it, you know he does.

Because a second later, he groans in his sleep. "I love you too but I'm trying to sleep, little one," he says, voice groggy and deep. He knows it's you and you shrink back a little, afraid of upsetting him.

"Sorry," you squeak.

He says no words but doesn't move away from you, falling back into the world of dreams. You stay resting by his side, eyes never straying away. He's so gorgeous, so mesmerizing.

Instinctively, as if he is some sort of precious jewel and you have fallen into a spell, you tilt your head slightly, retracing his features again. Yoongi says no words but moves a little so you wrap your arms around his torso as if afraid he would turn away from you and he lets you, though still half asleep, adjust yourself on top of him as he now lays on his back.

You giggle a little, wiggling your body as you move up to place more soft kisses against his jawline.

Yoongi sighs and though it sounds like he's tired of you, you know he is anything but upset you've woken him up. "What is this? Why are you doing this to me?"

His voice is so deep, so soothing and alluring. "Simple," you grin. "I am a Goddess loving my Lord."

"Finally gathering the courage to do such things? Why must you do it when the sky has just awaken? You are too much," he says but the way his hand wraps tightly around you tells you he loves it anyways.

"You cannot blame me. I had to spend three months watching my lovers loving another," you mumble through a pout.

He says nothing in response but an eye peeks open just slightly before your face allows him to frown and he flips you back onto the large bed with him now hovering over you. You cannot say another word as his lips claim yours just a split second later.

It is filled with passion, a fiercely blazing fire burning his heart. He has such an urgency to taste you, desperate for your lips, and when you let out a little moan, there is a small smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips.

But when he lets you go, his gaze is intense and sincere as he holds your face, a slight frown resting on his face. "Then we will spend the rest of our life reminding you that you are ours and we are yours." He leans in again for a little peck. "You are the Queen of the Underworld now, no one, not even Zeus himself can tear our love apart."

"Yes, I-I know." Your brows are still furrowed and he doesn't like it. "But Miran—"

"Shh, my love." Yoongi leans in again. A longer kiss. "Do not speak of another name that does not belong to any of your Lords, especially when you lay here, in my arms, in our bed."

Your cheeks flushes. He's too forward, his lips are too tempting but you are determined to get your point across. "It's just—"

He claims your lips again, refusing to let you go on. It is a kiss that leaves you wanting more and although you try hard not to forget what you want to say, Yoongi leaves you to remember nothing but his name alone.

The Lord of Curses is a dangerous, dangerous lord.

.

.

.

"No, no, no, come here little one, you'll get lost if you leave the river," you urge the small lost soul, showing it your palm where it naturally follows in so that you can put it back into the River of Lost Souls.

"There is a place for everything and everyone in the Underworld and yours is here," you chide at it gently. "The only reasons there are lost souls in the Throne of Judgement is because they are from the humans that have angered your Lords and let me tell you, you do not want to be there. Especially upsetting Lord Jimin. He hates it when his shadows disobeys him, imagine how he'd be if you little ones were to run out of sight and inevitably get caught."

They watch you, swaying from side to side and you narrow your eyes. "What? You think he will be upset with me instead? Because I'm in charge of protecting the lost souls in here?" You asks before laughing lightly. "You think too highly of yourselves. Lord Jimin knows I will do no such thing as to provoke him on purpose. It is love that makes the Lords of the Underworld a little less tempered on most days, something you have no idea of."

Realizing the last words you had said, though, makes you frown at them. "Poor little things, you don't know anything about love, hm? Thus the reason you lie here, committing grave sins because no one was there to teach you anything about love." Your brows only deepens. "But it does not give you the excuse to do wrong. I, for one, not only have to protect you all but I must protect the ones that you have acted wrongly against as well and that is not—"

"Why are you lecturing the lost souls as if they can understand you? They're deaf."

Your shoulders slump at Seokjin's words and you turn around, a clear pout on your face.

He stares at you for a moment, not understanding. "Speak," he orders you and you sigh.

"Deaf to love," you begin as you look back at the River of Lost Souls, hugging yourself as if you are suddenly cold. "Is it not upsetting in your eyes? Why are they not given second chances?"

"Before they were lost souls, they have been gifted plenty of chances, chances they decided upon their own terms not to take advantage of," the Lord of Pain and Misery tells you. "In the end, it is them that is at fault and must be punished for their sins."

"I guess you're right." But you are still unsure of it all, still sympathetic for them.

"Of course I'm right. Now come—"

"It's just," you shake your head, holding your Lord's hand back so that the two of you can remain where you are, "I am sure they regret their wrongdoings."

"It is too late now, my love," he says. "Anyone will regret their sins in the presence of the Lords and Queen of the Underworld, but there is no telling whether they truly feel guilty in their hearts or not."

"I know," you nod, acknowledging the fact yet still unable to forget about them.

"Come on," Seokjin tries again as he takes ahold of your smaller hand into his, tugging it to encourage you to walk back with him, "the other Lords are waiting and you know some of them can get very impatient."

You giggle knowingly, thoughts of the lost souls gradually leaving your mind as you think on your lovers. "Lord Seokjin?" You call onto the Lord of Pain and Misery as the two of you begin to turn your backs on the River of Lost Souls, on your way back to the castle.

He hums, encouraging you to speak on.

"Thank you."

His brows furrows a little in confusion at your response and the way you squeeze his hand. "May I ask why?"

"For allowing me to love you and for loving me back."

The answer you give him allows the Lord to stop walking for a moment. He remains there for a few seconds while you stare at him, confused as to why he has decided to stop when he lets go of your hand only to slide his arm around your waist.

Your breath hitches and your cheeks are quick to rose the moment he pulls you in close to his chest. "My Lord, this is not a place to—"

"Says who?" He cocks a brow which makes you even more flustered so you decide not to face him and instead lower your head. Your heart is beating so rapidly and hard you can hear it drumming against your chest. "I am a Lord of the Underworld, love, no one can tell me what I can and cannot do."

"You cannot abuse your power in this way, it is embarrassing for both me and your demons," you try to chide him but it doesn't work.

"Embarrassed?" It only provokes him more. "You are embarrassed to be seen with me?"

Him and Jungkook, both shamelessly putting you on the spot even though they know more than anyone that that is not what you mean.

Still, you know they like to tease you and you also know that you cannot leave their arms unless you do as they please otherwise you will be given the silent treatment.

"You are so unfair," you huff, eyes glaring up at him but he only finds it adorable.

"This is entirely your fault."

You scowl. "How is this my fault?"

Seokjin only holds you closer and tighter and you begin to panic a little more, head swerving at your sides to check if anyone is around but you don't get to do much because the Lord's fingers have brought your chin back for you to face him again. His face lies just inches away from yours, nose almost brushing your own while his voice drops. "Do you really think that I will let you go that easily after you said those words? Hm?" You cock your head. "For allowing me to love you and for loving me back," he quotes and your cheeks heat up even more. "How can we not fall in love with the purest heart who's devoted her whole life upon protecting us?"

He leans in. A kiss. "It is us who should be more thankful," he says. "For bravely taking on the courage to go through the trial, for being the only one holding onto our precious memories, for loving us even when we loved another, and for allowing us to love you." He smiles. "There is a lot we must apologize for as well."

"No," you are quick to shake your head. "The reincarnation period was set up in that way, you had no control over it."

"Still," his eyes cloud at the reminder of those three months. "I know I would not have been able to stay calm. I know if it was any of us, we would have shown you our jealousy, ripped whatever man who dares to touch you even if he was your supposed lover. And we would have definitely never put our lives in danger for them either."

"Fighting and protecting is all that I grew up exposed to," you remind the Lord, "Miran's still another life I had to protect especially since she was the one you loved."

There is bitterness that lies on Seokjin's face, words he doesn't like hearing out of you because it only adds more regret and anger upon himself for the way things were in the mortal realm.

"Trust me, there will be no one else besides you, no other Queen, no one else worthy enough to stand by our sides, I promise you. And if I ever break that promise again, punch me back to reality very hard, I give you permission."

You laugh aloud at him. "Jin—"

"I'm serious."

And he is. The way he stares back at you, his eyes filled with pain and regrets, the way he holds you a little closer to lean in and claim your lips. How he backs away for a short moment, only to place an even sweeter kiss that is filled with the sincerity of his love for you. As if to say he is sorry, that he hopes nothing like that will ever happen again, that you will not be placed in such a position ever again.

Because he never wants you to go back out there alone, feeling as if the whole world is against you, mortal or not, as if there is no one out there to love you.

Because it is untrue. Because he loves you more than the world itself. His Queen.

Their Queen of the Underworld.

.

.

.

"No."

"What?" Your mouth gapes at Namjoon's response which speaks for them all and you groan with disappointment. "Why not? Back when I was a mortal, your shield, I was the greatest warrior yet. Imagine how I'd be as a Goddess! Fighting without worrying about death because at the end of the day, I'll still be able to walk by your sides and—"

"No." Yet it is said again and your smile falls almost instantly.

"Look, just because I am your lover does not mean you can keep me away from fighting because guess what? Not only am I the Goddess of Protection but I am also the Goddess of War. War. I am a warrior!"

"Before you are a warrior, you are our lover," Taehyung states and it only makes you more baffled.

"So, what? I am banned from fighting now that I am your lover?"

"No," Jimin says nonchalantly. They're all nonchalant, all but you who stands upset while the sword in your hand taps impatiently. "We are only banning you from going out of the Underworld for now."

"For now until when?"

"Until we say it is okay."

You whine. "But why?"

Jungkook takes a step forward, his gaze hard and serious. "You may be the Queen of the Underworld but that will not stop other Gods from trying to have a piece of you and that is something we will never allow," he declares in a firm tone. "We cannot lose you again, Y/N."

A part of you knows where they are coming from but that part slides into the back of your mind as the only thing that's keeping you stubborn is the fact that you want to go battle again. It's been weeks since you've returned to the God's realm, three months since you've last fought another.

"You never lost me," you argue, "I was the one that lost you."

And it's true, you all know that it is true. That you were the one who walked through the trial all alone, watching from afar as her lovers went on to love another while not being able to do anything.

You've lost count of the many times your heart broke at the sight of them and Miran, of the many times you've cried and the many times you wanted to cry but had to hold it in for the sake of them. There were so many moments when you had to look away, not being able to bear with the fact that it wasn't you they were in love with, that it wasn't you whom they were kissing and holding.

They can only imagine the pain you had to go through and know they would never want to see you with another man in such ways if that were to ever happen. But it is the fact that you think they do not trust you enough when you were the one who had to hold back your anger and frustration and a broken heart for three whole months. It's what makes you a little more upset.

"Why worry about other Gods when I have the seven of you to love? It isn't as if I will not try to shake them off me if they try something. I know how it will feel like for you because I had to witness—"

You stop yourself in mid-sentence as you realize what is happening — or, what is about to happen and you don't want it happening — so you turn your back to them abruptly, letting your sword fall away, taking deep breathes to try and calm yourself. It only gets a little too real and your brows crease a bit more because now you're upset at yourself for getting upset in the first place and you find yourself crouched on the floor, holding your face with your hands.

"I don't want to do this."

They frown at your words, at how you're trying to hold yourself up but they don't know why you are this way.

"Do what?" Namjoon is a little fearful for your answer. He doesn't know what you mean and it scares him a little. Are you upset with them because they're keeping you down here in the Underworld? Because you feel like you're a prisoner?

It isn't how they want you to perceive their possessiveness as but it is what they fear you think of it as.

"I don't want to get upset, I don't like it," you say as you stand up again, hugging yourself now while still refusing to turn around. "It isn't right, not after just reuniting after just two weeks but everything still feels like a wishful dream that I'm having as a mortal, still going through the trial and hoping I can make you fall out of love so that you can love me instead." You tremble thinking about it all, the painful memories. "I don't want to get upset at you because what if I do end up waking and the only memories I have left is of our fight? Because I'm too selfish and only think about wanting to fight out there rather than trying to see that you only hate it because of the disgraceful looks I am given though I have already become your Queen and—"

You pause to wipe away the tears that are falling forcefully away from your eyes. "—and I know how that feels because I had to watch you love—"

You can't take it. You don't want to even say her name aloud and you need someone to hold you so you turn to run into Hoseok's arms and cry there.

"It's so cruel." Your voice shakes and their heart breaks.

You know it isn't right because they are also sensitive on the topic and you don't want to complain, to make it sound as if you are blaming them because you don't want them to grow regretful all over again. It isn't their fault, it isn't yours, but every thought about Miran still terrifies you about how life would have been if you had indeed failed the trial.

You wonder whether you will be sent down for a real reincarnation, a rebirth, or be sent to heaven. A part of you hopes to be reborn because then you wouldn't feel the pain of being forgotten and failing the trial. You wouldn't remember a thing just as they would have forgotten.

But you also never want to forget.

If it is anyone that should the one left to keep the memories, you would hope it is you because you don't want any of them to go through that same pain you had gone through. Three months was enough but for a lifetime? You aren't sure if you would be able to hold on if you were sent to heaven.

"Hey..love..." Hoseok leans back a little so that he can see your face that is filled with pain. His brows furrows as his arms are there to hold you, the desire to never let you go. "I'm so sorry, my love."

"It's unfair, yes," Yoongi goes to place a kiss on your head as Hoseok wipes your tears, "but allow us be selfish for a moment, please. Let us hold you a little longer, keep you to ourselves until we feel ready to show you off into the world again."

"Because right now, we aren't ready to let you go just yet, even if you will return to us."

"Because we're also afraid," Taehyung nods after Seokjin. "What if this is only a dream? What if everything we've ever hoped for was just a wishful thinking?"

"What if when we wake up the next day and you're gone and there are no traces of you left in the Underworld?" Jungkook holds you from behind.

"We'll feel empty but have no idea of the reason behind it."

You choke on your tears at Jimin's last imaginary words and Namjoon takes your hand. "So please, my love, please let us be selfish."

When they put it like that, there is no way you can ever refuse them. Because you understand their fears and can never allow them to be upset. Because as much as you have them wrapped around your little fingers, they have you wrapped around theirs as well.

You will do anything to remain by their sides, loving them until the end of time.

.

.

.

When Taehyung wakes up the next day and finds you gone while everyone else is still in the room, he begins to panic almost instantly.

"Y/N?" He calls aloud. You aren't usually the one to wake up sooner than most of them, you're one of the ones that likes to sleep in a little later. And not just that but you've all made a vow the night before that you'd sleep in the next morning and wouldn't leave the bedroom unless absolutely necessary.

"Y/N, my love?" He sits up, leaving the warm arms of Namjoon abruptly which begins to alarm the others.

Maybe, maybe he's just overreacting. Maybe you're just somewhere around the castle, wandering around like you usually do when you're bored. After all, he can still remember every piece of you, every part of your skin, he can still remember the delicate kisses he placed upon your skin the night before.

You haven't been forgotten.

"What's wrong?" Jimin asks, his voice still clear with sleep.

"I-I don't know, something just doesn't feel right," Taehyung stutters as he grabs his robe and rushes out the doors before anyone can say anything else.

The rest of them are a little slower as they get ready, a little annoyed their supposed peaceful morning was interrupted but if Taehyung feels something is wrong, then perhaps something is wrong.

And the news comes to them a few minutes later when Taehyung comes back to slam the doors open, his hair a mess from having run his hands through it out of frustration.

"Y/N isn't in the castle, she..-" He curses, panicking even more. "What if-"

"Calm down, she's probably just outside in the garden," Hoseok suggests.

"Or at the River of Lost Souls."

"Either way, she can't be anywhere far," Namjoon says after Seokjin. "She'd tell us if she was requested for a meeting."

"My shadows will find her," Jimin tells him as he releases about ten of them to go searching for you. "Don't worry just yet, Tae. Y/N knows when to call us if she is ever in danger."

"But what if..." There are tears in his eyes as he imagines the worst. "What if she wanted to leave, Jimin? What if she's tired and, and our love wasn't enough and she-"

"Please don't say that," Jungkook pleads as his own eyes becomes glossy. "Please, not when we've just got her back and she's ours again. Y/N can't-"

"Y/N won't," Yoongi declares in a firm tone but deep inside, he is also so, so afraid of that. You wouldn't just leave without saying anything, that isn't how you are. You are so much more than walking away without a goodbye, you aren't heartless, not right after a night filled with love, a night they had hoped would convey their hearts they've given unto you.

"But what if-"

"Stop." Namjoon sighs as he stands up tall, grabbing his own robe to begin heading out. "Let's just, let's just find her, alright? Before coming into any conclusions."

But Jimin's shadows can't find you anywhere and neither can they. They've searched everywhere, the places you often visited the most, the places you loved, the places you didn't like to go to. Even Cerberus hadn't seen you around.

"She could be in the Throne of Judgement, my Lords," a demon suggests to them. "It is the only room the shadows are not allowed in."

Right.

Right, of course.

Though there is a low chance you will be there when there is absolutely no need for you to be there, not without them at least, the seven Lords all rush down to the underground basement of the castle.

When the two doors are forced open without any warnings and you are sat just a few yards away from the thrones, back facing them as you look like you are in a daze, Taehyung's legs almost gives in as he realizes no, you haven't left them and that you are still here, as the Queen of the Underworld.

"Y/N-"

"Y/N you can't just-"

"Whoa-!"

Your breath hitches the moment there are bodies slamming against you and you go flying backward though the Lord of Punishments is careful as he lays his hand on your head, aware that your head would have hit the floor with a harsh thud if it wasn't for his protective hand.

"God, I was so scared."

"Tae—"

"Please tell me you still love me. That you still love us."

You blink in confusion at the sight of Taehyung who hovers above you, refusing to let you sit up and go anywhere while the rest of them remains at all sides. They all look so worried and you have no idea why. "What's gotten into y—"

"Please!"

There is a sad glint in Taehyung's eyes and the second you catch sight of the tears filling his eyes to the brim, your heart falls. "Oh, Taehyung," you breathe as you reach up to hold his face in your hand. "I love you so much, I will never stop loving you, any of you," you say as you go to wipe his tears away when they fall the moment he closes his eyes.

"Good." His sigh is shaky while he leans down, forehead touching yours. "Good because I made your mother a promise that I'd take care of this precious heart of yours and—"

"Wait what?" Jungkook pushes Taehyung away as they all look at him like it is the first time they've heard of that. "When'd you promise her mother?"

"You spoke to Y/N's mother?" Yoongi asks.

"When Y/N was made a Goddess?" Namjoon adds.

"Um, no." The tears have dried out at this point and you sit up, staring at Taehyung with the same perplex thoughts because he's never told any of you this. "I spoke to her the day I first met her, when me and Y/N went to visit her and her sister back when she was still a shield."

"You made her a promise even before she became our lover? You—"

"Whoa wait," your face turns into a bright amused grin as you cut Hoseok off, "when was this? I thought I was with mother the whole time I was there."

"Not when I made you and your sister peel potatoes together."

"You made Y/N peel potatoes?"

"It was an excuse to make them talk," Taehyung rolls his eyes at Jimin.

"Still, how could you?" His lover stresses with a pout resting upon his face. "You made her mother a promise even before you loved her? That's Y/N's mother."

"Hey, I loved her then," Taehyung claims defensively. "And besides, I wasn't the one who started that conversation. Her mother was the one who asked me to take good care of her heart."

"That's it, we're going to meet your mother." On his way to try and force you up, you drag the God of the Underworld back down.

"Hey, you're the ones who banished me from leaving the Underworld," you remind Namjoon and they let out a grunt because yes, they don't want you leaving just yet, but what about your mother? They still haven't formerly introduced themselves to her. The day you were made an immortal was a busy day that kept them from meeting her.

You see their frustration and you find it cute, the way their lips pout while Taehyung grins from ear to ear because he's the only one that's met your mother. "Aw, don't look too upset," you giggle at the sight. "If I love you, mother will surely love you the same."

"We made you our Queen of the Underworld without formally introducing ourselves," Seokjin states flatly.

"You could have been forgotten if it wasn't for us."

"Whoa."

Suddenly it's as if their hearts stopped beating at just the clear reminder and they begin to panic again.

"Y/N you could have been lost forever!"

"No one would remember you-"

"And she would have only one daughter left, feeling an empty void without knowing the reason why-!"

"And—"

"Stop." Still, you laugh because you aren't at all worried about the fact that your mother wouldn't like them. "That trial just proved our love is strong so you have nothing to worry about, I promise you."

"Still," Jungkook mumbles through his pout so you lean up to give him a kiss.

"We can always go visit her when you feel you've had enough of me."

He narrows his gaze. "We'll never have enough of you." The fluttering kisses he places upon you leaves you a giggling mess.

"I-I'm serious though," you laugh, "you don't have to feel rushed. Mother understands Gods are very busy people."

Though they look as if still reluctant, your Lords decide to finally drop the subject, knowing complaining will do nothing when they still have no desire to have you leave the Underworld just yet.

"So why did you come here in the first place? You scared the hell out of us."

"You do not ever have to worry about me leaving you," you reassure the Lord of Pain and Misery. "I was just missing a certain someone, that's all."

"Your father?"

You nod at Yoongi's guess. "I feel a little closer to him by being here, you know? Sorry I created a mess."

"Just, tell us next time, alright?" Namjoon says and you nod before he places a gentle kiss on your temple. "Now come," he stands and holds a hand out for you, "we promised each other a peaceful morning so you have to make it up to us."

You giggle. "Okay."

.

.

.

"Lord Jimin, I have a—"

It isn't just in the way Jimin's eyes suddenly widen as he looks past you but you see it too, from the reflection of the pretty crystals that decorates the beautiful garden, and you're quick to reach for your sword. Yet Jimin is on his heels, quicker than you as he rushes to your side, snaking his arm around your waist before you can grab your sword and he turns the both of you around his free hand pointing right at the dark shadow that immediately disperses and dies the second his own power of shadows hits it.

You're a little taken back while in the arms of the Lord of Shadows not because that event frightened you, but because you're surprised Jimin had put yourself before him to dispose of the shadow rather than letting you handle it.

"Jimin—"

"Are you okay?"

He's quick to turn his head back your way, inspecting you with worry. "I'm okay but—"

"Why the hell is a shadow trying to hurt you?" Jimin leaves your side to get a closer look at the little dust particles remaining from the dark shadow, crouching to a knee with furrowed brows.

But right now you aren't really concerned for its reasons.

"Jimin, you can't just shield me away from an attack, I'm the one who has to protect you."

He looks up at you, a look of perplex. "It was trying to hurt you."

"I can handle myself fine."

"I know you can but," he sighs, standing back up to walk up in front of you. "Do you know what's worse than forgetting that we were once lovers?" You tilt your head in confusion and he goes on. "Watching you hurt yourself for our sake, for someone who did not deserve your sacrifices and knowing that you're still willing to risk your own life for another. Do you not value your life, my love?"

"I do."

"Then why must you always put others before you?" Jimin asks a little hurt.

"I..."

"I told you, didn't I?" He says as he holds you close and the proximity makes you a little flustered. "I made you a promise, before we were lovers, while we were lovers, and while I had no idea of it. I made you a promise that I will protect you and I never intend to break it, whether big or small."

"Jimin..."

"I will let you do the protecting for others but when it comes to yourself, let me be your shield."

"I don't—"

He kisses you abruptly. "I will be your shield."

"Jim—"

Another kiss. "Alright?"

You know a Lord like him will never back down especially when it comes to making promises to his lovers. They take all their promises to you so seriously but sometimes you just wish—

He gives you another kiss with desperation in his eyes and there, you stare back into his gaze of love and the fluttering butterflies return. They are always there, whenever your Lords are around, whenever they lean in close and claim your lips. He's so serious you have no desire to say no to him so all you do is nod, knowing you cannot ever escape those precious eyes of his. It's too intimidating, too intense.

When he grins, it is worse.

Because he is beautiful and you realize all over again how lucky you are to receive the love from these seven Lords of the Underworld.

You still have no idea why it is you they have chosen to make their Queen of the Underworld.

Jimin wants to lean in again to claim your lips once more but you push him back, head trying to make clear of the current situation instead of getting carried away. "T-the shadow, Jimin," you remind him and his eyes turn from those bright pillars to the depth of the Underworld.

"Right." His voice is grave and you gulp as the Lord turns around again to inspect the particles. "No shadow around here is allowed to do anything unless under my command and everyone knows I will never let any of them harm my Queen." Jimin flicks his wrist in the air before balling his hand into a fist and holding it against his lips. He says a few inaudible words before releasing his fingers and the shadows go flying in different directions.

You shiver at the sight, a frown resting against your brows and the Lord of Shadows turns around to you again, taking your hand into his hold.

"We'll get to the bottom of this," he vows as he leads you towards the castle. "No one can get away with trying to harm you."

By the time the shadows have given words to the rest of the Lords who were outside of the castle grounds, busy with their own works, the six of them were quick to return frantically. The doors are slammed open and you're immediately being surrounded by them all as they worry the shadow must have gotten to you.

"I'm fine, I promise."

But they aren't just filled with worry, there is anger that burns in their eyes at the simple thought of someone trying to hurt you.

"No, you're not," the God of the Underworld claims in a clear deep voice you hadn't heard in a while, "not yet you aren't."

Though you have gotten used to the Throne of Judgement, it is the cruelest of the punishments that make you fear away from the room. Because you, more than anyone, know your Lords are anything but unjust and monsters, yet it is the fact that this room alone makes you realize all over again that the Lords of the Underworld can be ruthless and cruel to anyone that walks in their ways.

You aren't too fond of seeing this side to them, when they are in their dark lights like how everyone else perceives them, because you'd much rather have your sweet Lords who will stop at nothing to show their love for you.

But if things like this happen, you know anger is a strong emotion that will not back down in the face of an opponent who wishes to challenge their powers. Or in this case, yours.

So you know you cannot stop them.

"How dare you try to harm your Queen when I have given you the privilege to reside here in my kingdom, my land, under my rules?"

He doesn't sit still, the God of the Underworld, with a tone so grave and loud it echoes into the large room that no one ever wishes to return to once they have passed the trial of the Throne of Judgement.

"M-my King, please have mercy on m—"

The mortal stutters out but Namjoon only replies with a bellowed laugh that sends shivers down your spine. You know he is anything but entertained and even though the anger isn't directed your way, you are frightened.

"Mercy?" Yoongi scoffs bitterly.

"You dare ask for mercy after the grave sin you have committed?" Hoseok raises a challenging brow while Jimin chuckles.

"What a daring little mortal."

"Apologize to your Queen," Seokjin barks an order and the mortal is quick to bow your bow, stuttering words of apologies with such fear draining his weak body.

"My—my Queen! Please, please forgive me for my sins! P-please have mercy! Please! I beg of you!"

But you know more than anyone that he is already on his way to being a lost soul. Another one that will reside in this exact room, another lost soul that will have no idea what love, loss, and sacrifice means to him. He will never understand the true meaning of life, living a death until the end of existence.

Because even if you may want to give him mercy, you know your Lords will never allow it and Namjoon always makes the final rules.

Seokjin was right, though, any lost soul will fall on their knees and beg for forgiveness in the presence of the Lords and Queen of the Underworld. Maybe it is in his heart but you may never know because people like him are nothing but lost and conflicted, having no idea of the true meaning of life. No matter what decision you wish to make for the sake of his fate, it is not in the hands of yourself. There are rules that makes the Underworld what it is and having mercy to the ones who have committed grave sins is not one of them.

So you can only avoid the mortal's eyes of desperation, the silent words of telling him that he has to accept his fate.

The corner of Jungkook's mouth curls a little, satisfied with your reply. "The Queen may be willing to give you mercy but we are far from having a gentle heart towards anyone who's committed a sin."

"Taehyung."

It is the simple name alone from Namjoon that lets the Lord of Punishments know he is given the command to deal with the mortal's punishment.

He sends a smirk your way. "You may want to step out, my love."

So you do, quick on your feet because you do not wish to hear the cry of agony and you are so, so thankful they decide to do it after the doors are closed, keeping the screams locked in the Throne of Judgement without you being able to hear anything.

The set of hands that are responsible for deaths of so many mortals are the same ones that returns to cradle your face with such a gentle hold you almost forget they had just finished sending that mortal to becoming a lost soul.

But perhaps it is the contrast between the two that makes you feel more special and loved.

"No one will ever dare to hurt you again." There is still a hint of rage and fury behind Namjoon's gentle tone but you nod either way, nuzzling up against the crook of his neck as they hold you tight.

"I love you," you say, professing your thanks to them and they whisper it back the moment after.

.

.

.

"I hear Dionysus is having a party tonight and that we are invited."

Jungkook rolls his eyes as he swings his sword in the air before letting it smash against yours. "Dionysus has a party every week, it shouldn't surprise you. And besides," you advance for his abdomen but he's quick to forge your sword back away, "it has only been three days since we've banished you from leaving this world. You aren't leaving anytime soon."

"Okay fine, I wasn't even interested in the party—oof," his leg comes swinging your way and you're quick to sway your body back to avoid it, "-anyways."

"Then what is it?"

"I want to see the world," you say, twirling around and forgetting about the swordfight for a moment, forcing Jungkook to withdraw his sword. "I want to ride a chariot, a pegasus, touch the clouds with my bare hands," you glide up against his back, hugging him there where it makes him vulnerable to you, "with you guys."

Jungkook remembers those little moments he had with you, up on the rooftop of the skyscraper, looking down at the world as if you both owned the world. He remembers you against his back, propping your chin against his shoulder and speaking of your dreams and wishes, hoping that one day, if you were to ever become a Goddess, you can do those things you wish to do.

But he sighs as he holds your hand to release it from him. "As tempting as that sounds-"

"I know," you nod, letting him go but Jungkook still holds your hands as he turns around, not wanting you to leave and grow upset.

"We can see it the second we feel alright to let you venture out again," he promises with a squeeze, hoping you aren't too upset.

But of course, you have a smile on your face, one that hides your disappointment. "I know."

Jungkook sighs again, not ready to let you go just yet because you're still a little upset so he wraps his arms around you. "I love you," he says and you laugh.

"I know," you tell him again and he holds you tighter.

"Don't be too upset."

"I'm not."

"You can never hide your emotions well in front of your Lords, Y/N."

"Well, it isn't as if we can do much about it."

"I promise we'll make it up to you."

You nod as you lean up to press a kiss against his jawline. "I know," you smile at him, "you always make it better. I think seeing the world is incredible but if I had to choose between that and staying here with you forever, I will always choose the path to remain by your sides."

"You sure you won't grow tired of us?"

You laugh. "I went through the reincarnation trial not for nothing, my Lord," you remind him again and again. "I do not believe our love will ever falter ever again."

"It sure won't."

The two of you turn around at the new voice and Hoseok stands walking your way with a smile on his face.

"My Lord," you beam.

"My loves," he greets with two sweet kisses for both you and Jungkook. "Come now, supper awaits."

.

.

.

You have a sweet dream that makes you yearn for more, that makes you wish you can still live in that dream because it is a dream you know you can never live in.

So when you wake up, there are a few tears that escape your eyes and you wipe them away, feeling a little empty. Hoseok sits just a few inches away, on the edge of the bed as he puts his shoes on, ready to start the morning off while everyone else were already gone.

It's just you and him.

He is about to stand to grab his royal robe when you grab his waist from behind, holding him back from moving any further away from you.

There is a light chuckle that escapes his lips. "Good morning, beautiful," he muses, turning his head to the side to greet your lips when your head props up against his shoulder. You hold him a little tighter and it is enough for him to sense something wrong. "What it is?" He asks, frowning slightly.

"Do you know where Jimin is?" You ask him. "I have been meaning to ask him something but the opportunities are always stolen away."

"He mentioned visiting the River Styx, on the east side," Hoseok replies. "Are you alright?"

"Mmn," you nod with a small smile to assure that you were okay, giving him a light kiss on his cheek. "I'll see you later."

You get up from the bed, grabbing your white robe without caring to change out of your nightgown and Hoseok quickly grab your hand to pull you back to him, allowing you to stumble right into his lap.

"What are you doing, hm?"

"W-what?" You don't understand yourself. How are you still so flustered by their actions no matter how many times you've made love? How is it that they can still get your heart beating so fast? But you guess it isn't all a bad thing. After all, it just proves you fall more and more in love with them each passing day and you love the feeling of love.

The corner of the Lord of Death's lips curls into a smirk at the sight of your flushed cheeks, eyes avoiding his. He loves it.

"You cannot be serious, hm, Y/N?" He wonders with little light taps on your bottom. "Going out in your night dress? Do you really wish to provoke us? Make us upset?"

"What? No!" You quickly say in defense. "I just..really need to get to Lord Jimin."

"Our Lord Jimin can wait just a little longer before you bless him with your presence."

"But-"

"I am not allowing you to leave this room until you are properly dressed," he says in a commanding voice and you pout because you know he is right. But still, the question that lays on the tip of your tongue, meant for Jimin, does not want to wait any longer. Yet when you want to continue protesting, Hoseok only gives you that firm, serious gaze. "I will dress you myself if I have to, love, do not provoke me."

You know Hoseok never fools around when it comes to what he thinks is best for you so you quickly hop off his lap to walk over to your closet. The moment you finally pick out your clothes, you find Hoseok still on the bed, having not moved an inch from where you left him.

His brow raises when you meet his gaze and it is that piercing stare that always makes you feel small.

"Um, look away, my Lord," you squeak.

Hoseok scoffs lightly. "Love, I have seen your naked self plenty of times."

He's so straightforward and it makes you more red. "Look, you may be used to these things because it has been years since you've first loved the other Lords but it has only been, what? A month? Since I have joined this love fest so stop teasing me and just turn around!"

He bursts out laughing at how cute you are but complies to your wishes and turns himself around to let you do your business. "You will get there, my love," he says.

Curse you Hoseok and your charming ways!

By the time you finally get to leave your chambers (after your Lord continuously holding you back with forceful kisses that left you a hot mess), you are lucky Jimin is still where Hoseok told you he would be.

"Jimin!"

He turns at the call of your voice, a little surprised but welcomes you in his arms. "Do you need something, my Queen?" He asks because you aren't one to usually seek for them when the days are long and they each have their roles to play in the Underworld.

You don't respond right away, holding him close as you snuggle up against him. He's a bit taken back by your actions because you like to keep your loving displays behind closed doors. Still, he holds you, not wanting to let go.

You are reminded once again of that dream you had, the one you still so desperately hope to visit again even if it was just for one more night.

It was so sweet, so lovely, but lasted for such a short amount of time and it pains you just thinking about it.

"I miss Kai," you tell him with a sniffle because that little boy was an angel you had hoped would never leave your life. The first man to see you for you, the first man to love and cherish you.

"Kai?"

You nod.

You can still hear it. "Noona," he'd call you in a sweet voice, that cute boyish smile plastered upon his face every time it lights up at the sight of you, his hero, the one he admires the most. But you know that even if you were to see him again, watching him from where you are as he lives his mortal life, he will not know who you are. He will forget, unlike the promise he made to you.

But still, you think to yourself that seeing him just the way he is, living his life, you will be satisfied with that alone.

"He was such a sweet little boy, I've always wanted a relationship like I had with Kai because me and my sister weren't ever that close. And I was just wondering," you lean away a little, looking up at your Lord, "is there...is there any way I can see him without waiting years until death inevitably falls upon him?"

"You wish to see Kai?" Jimin's heart melts at the sight of the tears glistening against your waterline at just the mention of the little boy's name and he places a sweet kiss upon your temple. "You should have mentioned it sooner, love."

There is hope that ignites even more and you gasp. "I can see him?"

"Whatever the Queen wants and wishes for, nothing is impossible." He takes your hand into his, dismissing his duties for the moment as he leads you elsewhere.

Your heart beats hard against your chest with anticipation as you follow Jimin who takes you down the River Styx, the road that leads towards the entrance of the Underworld and your head tilts in confusion.

They have been so insistent on keeping you in, not allowing you to leave any time soon because they are still a bit afraid, wanting you by their sides almost all the time with the fear of losing you. "Jimin?" You call at a loss and you grow even more puzzled when he walks you into the entrance of Cerberus' home.

The three-headed guard dog wakes the moment they sniff the air and smells both your scents, two of which they are quite familiar with.

You have visited Cerberus plenty of times after returning to the Underworld and they've shown you around their home, something that is not too big and fascinating to see. So even as they run up to you and you greet them with a sweet smile, petting the three heads that showers you with love, you turn back to Jimin a moment later, brows a little creased.

"Why are we here?" You ask, still not understanding. When you told him you wished to see Kai, you were imagining some sort of pool or a crystal globe that would show you the lives of the mortals on Earth. But nope, here you are, in the home of Cerberus.

Jimin walks up slowly to his guard dogs who greets him with the same excitement. He goes to sit on the bed of Cerberus with them following behind, resting their heads on his thigh as they sit beside him. Jimin looks up at you with a lopsided smile.

"Call upon his name, my love, and he shall show himself to you."

The confusion is still set in place but Jimin is a great, wise Lord who holds a power so magnificent. Perhaps it's his shadows that will appear? An illusion of Kai in act of his real self because you know the mortal Kai will never remember who you are.

So you set your gaze on Jimin, calling upon the little boy's name. "Kai?" It's soft, a small whisper that grows a little louder as you call a second time, eyes looking around for any sign. "Kai, where are you?" There is no response and your body turns about, wondering where he will show up. Tears well up against your waterline again as you call for him a third time. "Kai, please. It's noona, your mask noona whom you love so much."

"I'm right here, noona."

You gasp at the voice and quickly turn back around towards the spot where Jimin and Cerberus are. But the moment you turn, Jimin sits alone on the bed and there, Kai, the little boy whom you have grown so fond of, replaces the spot where Cerberus was supposed to be, standing a few feet away and smiling sweetly.

"Kai," you breathe so softly, like a whisper of the wind, and he runs to you with arms so wide, colliding his little body with yours into your open arms.

You hold him there so securely with no desire to let go because he has been there all along, by your side, and you had no idea you had been talking to Kai all along without realizing it was him.

Cerberus.

Kai is Cerberus.

The three-headed dog that guards the entrance to the Underworld. The first immortal whom you made friends with, the first immortal to love you even before you fell in love with your seven Lords. He had been there all along, watching over you through the world of the mortal realm, knowing every truth you had to desperately hide during the time of the Reincarnation trial.

He was there, helping you, being the friend you needed a shoulder to lean on when nothing was going right and you felt hopeless, thinking that perhaps you were going to fail and be left forgotten forever.

But animals do not ever forget.

They never forget the ones they love and cherish the most.

He wasn't ever affected from the moment the world of the Underworld was set to a pause because of the trial period. He was free to roam around, falling into the world of the mortals, and decided to remain by your side in the case of you ever failing so that he can still spend time with you until your last moment.

Because Cerberus vowed to himself that even though everyone else will forget about you and the story may lead to the road of the unhappy ending, he will be there to try and remind your precious seven Lords of their loves for you.

A silent promise that tells you that even if you would have failed that trial, not everyone would have completely forgotten you and there would still be hope for your love to continue.

If even a little.

You meet the eyes of Jimin's through your tears and he gifts you a sweet smile.

"You should have told me," you chide softly at the little boy that still holds onto you tightly, tears falling against you because you have finally realized that it had been him all along.

"I couldn't, noona," he laments. "I wasn't supposed to go down there and help you, no one could know so I had to pretend that I didn't know either."

"You..." He leans back to brush away your tears with his small fingers. "You are a devious little actor." Kai laughs and you mirror the amusement. "Still though, do you know how heartbroken I was to think you will never remember me once I returned to this world?"

"I promised you, did I not?" he gifts you a boyish grin, "That I would never forget you no matter what."

"I did not know that applied to this life either," you huff.

"I did a good job, though, didn't I?"

You smile at him, picking him up to let him rest on your lap. "Mmn. If it wasn't for you, I would have never passed."

Kai shakes his head immediately. "That's not true." He's so cute, him and his little pout. "Noona, I was just a supporting character who was there for you to be a friend. You passed all on your own, making the Lords fall in love with you all over again."

You meet Jimin's gaze at that and he shares the soft smile. "Maybe so, but I would have been a wreck if it was not for your presence. Things may have turned a different route if it had not been for your continuous support and believing that I was capable of anything."

"Because you are!" He reminds you again. "You're strong and mighty, brave and couragous, no one can ever live up to your name. You set the standards high, hence the Lords of the Underworld will never be able to fall out of love with you if they ever tried."

"He's right." Jimin stands from where he sat to walk over to the two of you, settling himself in front of where Kai sits in between you and him. "You are easy to fall in love with, Y/N. Anytime you were around, I could feel my heart swaying away from Miran who supposedly held my heart at the time. It isn't hard to grow fond of you, to have my heart falter away from Miran because she are so different from you. You are beautiful, kind and strong, loving and sweet. That is what fears us from letting other Gods see you because we know it is easy for anyone to fall in love with you."

"You aren't ever going to let me go, hm?"

"Never."

You laugh a little, sharing a small smirk with Kai before looking back at him. "I guess my possessive Lords isn't all that bad, especially being for the reason that they love me just as much as I do."

"Maybe a little more."

"That's a lie."

"Ew, stop with the sappiness!"

Only a servant like Kai would be allowed to say such a thing to the Lords and Queen of the Underworld.

.

.

.

"Joon!"

The God of the Underworld laughs as you lung towards him and he's quick to pick you up, spinning you around while you giggle. "Someone is bright today," he comments as he sets you down.

"I met Kai again!" You exclaim. "Well, I guess that statement isn't correct because I've been talking to him but haven't realized because Lord Jimin decided not to tell me anything. Oh! And the Underworld flowers have bloomed today, you have to see how pretty they—"

"I'm a little busy at the moment, little one," he says as he pulls you back from trying to drag him away. You pout a little and he chuckles. "You know I will entertain you if I could but right now is not a good time."

"You're always so busy," you sigh. "Then can I follow you around today? I will not bother you, I promise I will keep silent for you."

Namjoon knows you aren't one who likes to keep silent but he guesses with you around, you will make things a little easier to go about his days doing his duties. "Alright," he decides and you cheer happily.

You've followed Namjoon around before, back when you were a shield. He does his own things while you trail along, wandering about and talking to yourself to not stay bored and be entertained. It is enough just staying beside your God because he is the busiest of you all, not getting much time off unless it is time to eat or sleep so you find yourself missing him a lot.

It is when Hermes, the messenger God comes to report to Namjoon the daily messages from the world outside of the Underworld, does your attention perk up.

"Zeus orders for the God's presence at Olympics in three days for the traditional ceremony as a new shield has been chosen."

You gasp. "Whose?"

"Poseidon and Ares, Lady Y/N."

"What?" You blink. "But they already have shields."

"Ares's shield is being replace and Poseidon's previous shield has been lost at a battle during the time you spent your lives in the mortal realm, my lady." He tells you and bows with respect before leaving because he is a busy God who cannot take the time to chat as much as he wants.

"Whoa." You remember the shield, the same one that sent his blade right into your skin on the day you quarreled with your sister. It was not a good day but you have to say that Poseidon's shield was a great opponent to fight with. "He was a warlock, was he not?"

"Even warlocks can lose a life, dear one," Namjoon says as he begins to walk away towards his next destination and you follow.

"Oh but Hermes mentioned Ares too. I thought shields could only be replaced if death takes toll on them."

"Ares is quite picky with his shield."

You make a face at that. "He once asked me to be his shield."

Namjoon freezes for a moment before continuing on the path but he walks closer to you, taking your hand in his hold. "I assume you told him no."

"Of course, my Lord," you grin assuringly and he nods, satisfied. "But his shield wasn't a bad fighter."

"Maybe not but anyone can lose a shield if they wish. Either for the reason of them not being worthy enough or," he turns to look at you, a small smirk displaying on his face, "she is made his Queen."

You giggle at his subtle flirting ways. "So...we are heading to this ceremony, yes?" The playful smirk leaves his face as it's replaced with a frown. "Zeus may be your brother but he is still the high God who rules over us all."

"Yes, I..-" He grunts with frustration. "Those damn Water and War Gods. Why choose now to decide on a shield?"

The others do not respond well to the message they get once supper arrives and everyone is in the same room. But who can blame them? It hasn't been that long since you've all reunited in the Underworld and Zeus was already calling for some type of celebration that requires the meeting of all the Gods and Goddesses of Olympics.

"We don't have to stay long," you try to compromise in order to ease their nerves.

"Coming from you, that is a surprise, love," Seokjin comments.

"You say this now but we all know you will want to get yourself into the battles," Yoongi grunts.

"As much as I love to fight, I love you more and if making you feel better means keeping away from my sword, then I am fine with it."

"Not just the sword, Y/N." Namjoon narrows his gaze with a pointed look your way. "You are to remain by our sides at all times and do not speak to any Lord that wishes to start a conversation."

"But won't that be rude-"

"And you are wearing the mask."

"Oh come on!" You groan at Jimin's command. "Have a little faith in me, will you?"

"We trust you, we do not trust them."

"Same difference." You roll your eyes but it is what gets you in trouble.

Hoseok grabs your face in one swift motion with just one hand, pinching your cheeks to squish them together, not enough to hurt you but enough to have you pouting. "Did you just roll your eyes at your Lord?"

"I'm sorry," you sulk but he doesn't relent.

"Hm, doesn't seem like it."

"But I am," you say through the squished cheeks. "I will wear the mask if it makes you happy but I can't really promise you that I will not speak with the Gods and Goddesses. It will make me look like I am disrespectful when I don't mean it and they will think I was never worthy to become a Goddess or your Queen."

"Who cares what they think?"

"Words can hurt, you know."

Jungkook scoffs. "You have fought in so many battles yet a little thing like other's opinions brings you down?"

"I want to be the one for you guys, okay? I want to be respected too."

They know where you are coming and Hoseok sighs as he finally releases you. The warmth from his hand leaves you but you are still pouting. "You are already respected, Y/N," he says with a playful ruffle on your head to make things lighter. "Both when you were a shield, and now as a Goddess."

"You do not have to prove to anyone about anything," Seokjin adds in.

"And I guess leaving the Underworld is not all a bad idea."

"Yeah," Jungkook chuckles after Jimin. "It gives us an excuse to visit your mother and sister."

"And make that vow that Taehyung had done without us."

You laugh a little when Yoongi sends the Lord of Punishments a small glare while he responds by playfully sticking his tongue out.

.

.

.

All of Olympics is so much more beautiful when watching from the high grounds and you cannot stop yourself from leaning over to feel the clouds against your fingers. It feels like nothing, just a wisp of air, yet it is still so fascinating to see.

The meadows lay beautifully, a vast patch of a garden of flowers that extends to a large amount of earth. You lean closer when you see a gorgeous golden eagle but Jungkook puts his arm around the front of your waist to pull you back in before you can fall forward.

"Careful, little one. You are not a bird," he chides but you are too excited to listen to him.

"I am an immortal, I cannot die so stop worrying so much," you tell him otherwise, eyes never meeting his as it's attention only stays on the beauty outside of the chariot.

For some reason that makes them upset and Jungkook pouts. "Why are you giving so much attention to nature? It isn't that fascinating."

"That's because you've seen it a thousand times and counting. I have never."

"There are other more beautiful things to see, you know, like the seven of us."

You laugh at Seokjin's sulky words but wave his jealousy away. "I give you my love and attention all the time, just let me have this moment."

They aren't satisfied but perhaps it's safe to say they aren't completely upset. Because your glowing smile that watches from the chariot makes their hearts grin and maybe that is enough for now.

Before arriving to Mount Olympics.

Watching the duels is not as fun as being a part of it so you inspect the crowd around you instead while sitting in between Namjoon and Yoongi.

Your thoughts wonders about as your eyes goes from one God to another. They all sit tall and proud with a shield each by their sides if one was not battling it out in the arena. The place may be packed with such a loud crowd but you can still hear every thought that walks into your head.

You welcome them, being as they were more interesting than the duels. It distracts you even while you are in a booth with seven Lords who has their eyes trained on the battlefield.

How would Olympics change if you were forgotten forever? Would it be all the same as it was from before they all knew who you were? Before you made a name for yourself and everyone saw you as the strong and mighty shield of the seven Lords of the Underworld?

How would Cerberus — Kai — go about his days trying to remind the Lords of who you were? Would these ones also be affected? Would the small little creatures you had met along the way of walking alongside your Lord's chariot remember you as well?

Maybe not because you were not as important to them.

But maybe too because animals never forget.

And it stumps you because of how different life would have turned out if you really did fail to make your Lords love you again.

And then you wonder...life has always been different, choosing a path between two...three times.

You look up again, watching the Gods of Olympics and your heart falls.

"You were quite happy before the duels. Is something wrong, love?" Namjoon asks with concern as you all step into the chariot once again for a new destination.

You're still silent as it begins to ride off, watching Mount Olympics gradually fade away into the background. "The three mortals that lost their loves...I wonder which Gods it was."

It is heartbreaking thinking about it and your heart saddens for the three Gods whose memories of their previous mortal lovers were taken away. You were lucky to have Kai by your side, the one who came onto Earth to give you hope, encouraging you that you were capable of succeeding and that even if you were to fail the trial, he would still be doing his job to guarantee the memories of you will not be lost forever.

You had a companion by your side, did the three mortals had anyone? Were they alone in the journey and lost hope? And not only lost hope but lost themselves along the way as well.

You know you did not succeed the trial all by yourself. If it had not been for Kai giving you hope and helping you feel loved, letting you vent to him when you needed, being the first mortal to love you, you were sure you would not have succeeded.

After all, you almost failed the trial, only to find out later on when you returned to the Underworld that your Lord's hearts had been swaying due to you never losing who you were as Y/N.

You would not have done it if it wasn't for the support.

Namjoon lays a hand upon your shoulder to let you lean against him. "Sometimes a sad ending for a certain relationship is what everyone needs. It just proves that it wasn't really meant to be, that there is another lover waiting for them, a better one, someone that will make them even happier and in love. Their efforts may look like it had gone to waste but us as people tend to think the relationships we are in are our last hope, our saving grace, the one we will spend the rest of our lives with. But it does not always comes out like that in the end. There will be heartbreak, one much more broken than the other, but both will realize one day that letting go is the better option."

"We take a risk for the ones we love, even if it is not the one we end up with in the end. But it is the lessons through life that makes us understand that sometimes things are not meant to be," Jimin says.

Yoongi nods. "The Fates knows what they are doing, nothing is ever a mistake. Everyone's destiny lies in their hands and they know the hopes and future that lies ahead. There isn't anything to worry about, my love."

"Mmn," Taehyung hums, "because just as you have said it, the success of our trial only proves that our love was meant to be. It's written in the stars."

You smile at their words. Somehow they always have the right words to tell you whenever you need it and it always makes you feel better about things. Because they are right. Failing would mean that there is a brighter future, that their love story is meant to be with another, so you have nothing to feel sad for.

It's okay. The stories have already been written in the stars.

When they meet your mother, they are a bit nervous but you only laugh because you know there is nothing to worry about. And just as you have reminded them plenty of times, your mother loves them as a mother would towards the men who have stolen the heart of her daughter.

When you go to catch up with your sister, they remain by your mother's side and talk to her in private, words you never get to hear even as you beg afterward as the eight of you return home with them grinning from ear to ear. You know that whatever they were talking about, it had to be about you because they are never discreet with stealing glances your way and that is what frustrates you a little more.

.

.

.

"Whoa! Hey! You can't do that!" You jump back at the sight of the three younger Lords sitting on the bed the moment you walk out of the bathroom in just a simple white towel wrapped around your body, thinking you were clear and that no one was in the room.

Jungkook laughs at your surprise. "We are your Lords, you cannot tell us what we can and cannot do."

"Guys," you whine as you stomp your little feet and he laughs some more.

"How can one look so adorable when she is only wearing a towel that barely covers her wet skin?" Jimin asks with a smirk curled at the corner of his lips.

"Don't," you warn. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" Taehyung raises a brow as if he is oblivious but you can see right through them.

"You know what you are doing and I do not intend to play along with your games."

"Don't know what you're talking about," Jungkook says as he leans back to lay against Jimin's chest. "Unless, you wanna do something?"

You give him an unamused stare to hide the fact that you are indeed flustered. "Are you going to get out?"

"Not anytime soon," Taehyung smirks and you groan, grab your bathrobe and rush back into the bathroom. When you come out a few minutes later with the same pouting frown but with a robe instead, they laugh.

"What are you doing here back so early anyways?"

"What are you doing here back so early?" Jimin mimics.

"Obviously there wasn't anything else to do until the next day."

"Exactly. Now come here." He grabs ahold of your wrist before you can turn to your vanity and has you sitting right on his lap where you face Jungkook and Taehyung just behind you.

"H-hey—"

But the Lord of Shadows grabs the white towel you had held onto. "Relax," he muses, "let us pamper you, love. You've worked so hard." He hands the towel to Taehyung who almost instantly begins to run the towel against your wet hair.

"Um...doing, doing what?" You stutter. Curse them for making you feel this way.

"Holding onto our memories while ours were forgotten," Jungkook says.

"Loving us despite us loving another," Taehyung says.

"Staying true to yourself and making us fall in love with you," Jimin takes your chin with his forefinger to have you face him, "twice," he adds and you know at that point you are a blushing mess.

"Y-you do not—"

"You have shed so many tears for us, love." His fingers traces your face and you shiver. Why is it that their words are so sweet and soft yet they are anything but that upon the expressions on their faces? You want to ignore it but they've planted a fire inside you which burns hard.

"J-Jimin." The sigh you release is shaky.

"Your ears are red, darling," Taehyung notices with a smirk. "Why is that, hm? We are only trying to thank you. Why are you blushing?"

They know more than anyone that they aren't just thanking you. So you swipe Jimin's hand away from your face and look away but that only cues Jungkook into taking your wrist. His hold is firmer. Gentle, but firm. "You are being unfair," you mumble through a pout and he chuckles.

"Unfair?"

"Three against one? Why must you do this to me?"

"You act as if you don't like this," Taehyung says. He's not trying to dry your hair anymore, only allowing it to tangle around his fingers and letting it go.

"I-it's just..-" you squeeze your eyes shut, "..-sometimes one can be overwhelming but three?"

"You've done it with seven, love, plenty of times."

It.

You feel hot. So hot. And for some reason it feels a little caging, as if you are caught, tied, and the burning sensation only makes it worse.

They notice your hesitation and Jungkook lets your hand go. "Are you alright?" He asks with a sincere concern and that is what brings you back from the moment of daze.

Because when you open your eyes again and see those pairs of worried eyes looking right at you, your heart melts. Jimin's arm lays around your waist, Taehyung being just behind you. And you're realizing all over again that there is nowhere else you'd rather be. Of course, yes, with the remaining four as well, and right now you feel warm, safe and secure.

"We can stop if you'd like," Jimin says. "Just say the word, my love."

But you do not say another word. Instead, you turn back his way and place a hand on his shoulder. He looks at you, a little confused because you aren't voicing anything but when you lean in, eyes slowly closing, Jimin smiles against the soft lips you kiss him with. He lets you take the lead that feels a little hesitant, filled with a soft, shy love that makes both your heads spin. How different you are from the heroic warrior on the battlefield to when you are laying in their arms will always baffle them. But they wouldn't like it any other way.

When you break the kiss, you fall against the crook of his neck and Jimin chuckles at your bashfulness.

"Hey, don't grow shy now, I want a kiss too," Jungkook whines through his pout and before Taehyung can say a thing, the doors to the chamber opens.

"What are you little devils doing to our little angel?" Namjoon's voice comes in lightly and the four of you turn to the call. The hyungs looks at the sight of you sitting on Jimin's lap, in between Taehyung and Jungkook, with just a simple bathrobe covering your body and Seokjin chuckles when he sees your flushed cheeks.

"You know not to overwhelm the little one," he chides the three Lords.

"Y/N liked it."

"Y/N loved it."

"She initiated our kiss."

Their eyes widen a little and with the sudden attention shift, you're quick to let out a small little squeak as you avoid their gaze. Your reaction, however, does not surprise them yet they don't mind it. You are cute, always, and that is what makes you even more endearing.

"Well, whether she did it or not, you will have to wait your turn when our little one is brave again," Yoongi says, giving a pointed look towards Jungkook who whines subtly but obeys as Hoseok holds his hand out for you to easily take.

"Not tonight though, she's taken her bath," Hoseok observes as he gives you light pets against your wet hair. "You may look tempting, my love, but your health is more important and you may catch a cold if you don't dry this pretty hair. We don't want that now do we?" He sits you on the chair of your vanity where you face the mirror, watching as he grabs the towel from Taehyung to start hand drying your hair for you.

"I can catch a cold?" You ask. "I can get sick?"

Namjoon hums. "Even immortals like us can be a little weak to nature and you haven't been a Goddess for long so you are more affected."

"Aw."

"Exactly, hence why we must be careful around you," Yoongi scolds, meeting the eyes of the younger ones who pouts a little.

"Sorry, love, you're just too sweet."

You giggle at Taehyung's attempt of an apology because you know he isn't all that sorry. "But I'm strong, you don't have to worry so much," you say to Yoongi. "I haven't caught any sickness since the day I became your shield."

"We may not have to worry about your sickness but you make that up through being reckless and continuously putting yourself in danger and that is even more worrisome," Seokjin points out.

"And do not try and excuse yourself out of this debate, you know it we're right," Namjoon says.

"I-"

"You be nice to yourself, little one," Hoseok cuts in as he takes the towel away from you, settling it onto the space beside you. His eyes catches yours from the mirror, his body bending to your level, chin propping against your shoulder as he breathes in your sweet scent from the body wash and shampoo. "Or do you want to be punished for that again?"

"I-I..-" You turn your head sideways to avoid his piercing gaze and when that is still not enough, you hide your face against the palms of your hands. They chuckle while you scowl, pouting. "You are so, so unfair."

"And you are the sweetest one to have ever melt our hearts." He picks you up without any warning and you squeal at the surprise before he sets you onto the large bed gently. For a moment you almost thought he would straight up drop you but when you think about it, they have never done that to you, deeming you too soft for them to be too aggressive towards even if it's in the form of love.

Hoseok kneels at both your sides and, flustered, you shuffle back while holding your arms out. "You said not tonight."

Their gazes are a mixture of playfulness, predatorial, and softness. You don't know how but they are your Lords, capable of anything, and that is what scares you to hit your back against the headboard. It isn't good, not when Hoseok has you trapped now.

"I miss you," he says.

"You see me everyday."

"I love you."

"You say it all the time."

"I want you."

When you do not respond to that, Hoseok smirks, satisfied. But he does not advance forth, not when you are not ready for it at the moment. So he leans back, now sitting while the rest grins at the sight of you two, and opens his arms for you.

"But of course, your decision is the final one."

Your response to his arms is never the final decision, Hoseok knows it, because you can never refuse to fall against them whenever offered to you. So it isn't a surprise when you move forward to climb into his lap, wrapping your little arms and legs around him as he pulls you in.

"I'm sleepy."

"Okay," he laughs when you nuzzle against him.

Maybe that was just an excuse, because you aren't at all sleepy, so as if to backfire against your own words, you lean away just a little to place light kisses upon his face.

"Not fair, I never got my kisses," Jungkook pouts and Hoseok lets you climb off him to go to the younger one instead. You deliver him your own kisses but he's a little annoyed you aren't going for his lips. "You missed."

"Huh?"

And he swoops in to claim your lips with his own, something that leaves you breathless in the end.

"Kook-"

"You say you're sleepy yet you seem to really enjoy that." Namjoon picks you up to let you straddle him instead before you can say a word and he kisses you sweetly without any warning.

At this point you should be used to it, expecting everything that they will give you, but each time you are passed onto another one's lips, they leave you hoping for more and more as your body heats up each time.

You don't complain though, because no matter what they do, every decision is for you to choose and they will always oblige to them. If you feel a little overwhelmed, they will let you go just enough for you to still feel loved, and if you don't know how to ask for things, they will help you guide through it.

Not every love is meant to be, especially the first love that has many significance for a lot of people. But it is often the one no one really ends up with, the one that is a little more childish, one that you crush on, the first love you are meant to have at a younger generation.

But you were never given the choice to live that life when you were younger. All your life it has always been about honoring the family and being the protective shield, running off the battles and wars and fighting off the bad guys. You never had a life to live for yourself, always only for others.

Even when you met your Lords it was only about them, their safety, their lives, their rules.

Until you found yourself losing sight of the difference between the relationship of that of a servant and her Lord, to a friend towards a friend. And eventually, that friendship grew into something more, something brighter, more bashful, more lovely.

And then, the love.

But that love did not last as long as you hoped for it to be. From the beginning, you knew it wasn't going to work out so great, not when you were only meant to be a shield for the rest of your life.

So the reincarnation period was what broke you into realizing that real love is not a fantasy or something made in dreams. Real love is hard, it's made up of so many obstacles trying to hold you down. It's difficult, it isn't always laughs and fun.

But it is the desire and heart that goes into the love is what keeps it alive.

Giving up was always an option to take, to just forget about it all and let life inevitably take you away when the time was up. After all, you would be forgotten in the end anyway when your hard work gets wasted if you were to fail.

But it is the hope that keeps you going.

Because you knew that if you were to give up, the Lords that knows you, that loves and cherishes you, that remembers everything about you, will fall heartbroken if they knew you had given up.

So you sacrificed your life many times, breaking your own bones and spirit.

Yet you made it.

They are yours again. Until the last star falls.

And you know you will never regret falling in love with the seven Lords that loves you so much and treats you so well.

"The word love feels so small at this point."

"What do you mean?" Seokjin asks.

You take his hand, kissing the tip of his fingertips. "Because I love you so much that it feels like saying it is not enough."

You're right.

So, so right.

Because when they look at you, you are so much more than just the simple word of "love." You are life, you are the world, you are beauty, war and passion.

You are love. A love that has been written in the stars since the beginning, only meant for them and them alone.

You are theirs and they are yours.