#fresh pretty cure x reader

[baileypie-writes]

I see requests are stil open YIPPEE! Remember that "reader has a nightmare about Westar hurting them" ask I sent a while ago? Could I have a Soular version of that pretty please with Cure Whip and cherries on top?

A/N ~ Hello! Of course! How could I refuse with Cure Whip on top?? Soular doesn’t technically hurt Reader himself in this, but I think it still counts. Hope you enjoy!

~Wall~

Soular x GN!Reader

~~~🍩~~~🍩~~~🍩~~~

Fandom: Fresh Pretty Cure!

Fanfic Type: Oneshot

Reader: Gender neutral

Relationship: Romantic

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 1,198

Synopsis: After being launched into a brick wall in your dream my your boyfriend, Soular, you placed an imaginary one between the two of you. But it wouldn’t last for long, as Soular wanted to know what was going on with you.

Warnings: Stupid imagery/metaphor, Reader almost getting very injured/killed in their dream, Soular “hurting” Reader in their dream, cheesy

~Masterlists~

~Fresh Pretty Cure! Masterlist~

~~~🍩~~~🍩~~~🍩~~~

You never thought you’d see a scene like this again. You were convinced that Soular was good now. That he had turned his back on terrorizing the city with the creatures he created. He had assured you of this himself. But as a giant fan with eyes and limbs marched about, creating destruction everywhere it went, all of that flew out the window.

“Soular! What are you doing? You said you didn’t do this anymore!” You shouted at your boyfriend from your spot on the cracked road.

His eyes turned to you, his malicious smirk never faltering. “Well, I suppose what I heard was correct. Your kind really are too quick to trust. Nakewameke!” He waved his hand in your direction, a command to his creation.

Stopping in its tracks, the fan maneuvered its body to face you. A terrifyingly strong breeze picked up a ways above you from its speedy blazes. Anything unfortunate enough to be in contact with it was sent flying. You let out a sigh of relief. Just a few feet lower, and you’d be blown miles away.

Soular scoffed. “Really? Is that as low as it goes?” He asked the Nakewameke. It just mumbled from embarrassment. “Oh well. I guess I can finish the job.”

He leaped at you so fast, it was as though he had teleported. You didn’t have time to process what was going on. You only saw his bright green eyes, before he grabbed your waist, fingers digging painfully deep, and effortlessly threw you into the air, directly into the monstrous wind.

Immediately, you were launched sideways. Your surroundings blurred from the unnatural speed you were going. You began feeling dizzy from it, your eyes not being able to keep up. Looking behind you, you caught sight of a brick wall heading your way. Well, you were heading its way. Due to the speed, it was only a few seconds before the wall grew closer, and you eventually-

~~~~

An intense, full body jolt shot through your body as you awoke with a small yelp. You could hear your heartbeat through your ears, and a cold sweat covered your back and forehead. You wanted to put your hands in front of you; an attempt you stop yourself from hitting the wall. But you quickly realized that there was no wall. Well, there was. But not the one in your dream. It was the wall of your house.

You were back at home. A bit shocking, considering it had probably just been destroyed. You sat on your couch, and the TV in front of you played a random game show. Coming to your senses, you realized that you were only dreaming.

“What in the world was that? Did you have a nightmare or something?” A familiar voice asked from next to you.

Your blood ran as cold as your sweat. You had just heard that voice a moment ago. A quick glance to your right met you with the same piercing green eyes you just saw in your dream. The dream where the man the eyes belonged to betrayed you, and almost led to you smashing against a brick wall.

Soular’s eyes furrowed in confusion. “What’s that look for?” While you couldn’t see yourself, you could guess what kind of expression you were making.

You blinked it away, attempting to go back to normal. “Sorry. It’s nothing.”

Soular just hummed, trying to ignore your strange behavior.

The two of you just sat, watching the game show on TV. Due to your disturbing dream, you subconsciously distanced yourself from your boyfriend; scooting all the way to the end of the couch. But he noticed. He also noticed how you were still acting distant and weird.

“(name), what’s up?” He asked.

“Nothing?” You responded dryly, without even looking at him. It was as if you had put a wall between the two of you. Like the one you almost crashed into in your dream; tall and wide.

“I can tell something’s wrong. Did I do something?” After seeing your eyes flicker to him for a split second, he knew he was right. “What did I do? I don’t remember anything that could’ve bothered you.”

“That’s because you didn’t do anything. I just dreamt you did.” You sighed out, embarrassed.

“Oh. Well what did I do?” It was a simple question. He was expecting himself to have teased you a bit too much, or maybe broke something. But due to your resistance to explain, it was apparently much more severe.

“C’mon, (name). You can tell me. No matter how bad it was, it was just a dream.” He reassured in his typical, sassy fashion.

You sighed again. “Okay.”

Recounting the events of your nightmare only made you feel much worse. Not only because you were going back to the awful memories, but because as the story went on, you watched Soular’s expression change. He was calm at the start, but hearing of the things he did, his brows raised and his eyes widened. It was honestly sad to watch.

You finished the retelling with a sigh. “That’s it.”

Soular was completely speechless. You just kept your head down, staring into your lap. The imaginary wall separating the two of you remained standing. You were still avoiding any eye contact with him and keeping silent, scared of his upcoming response.

“Well,” He said after a few moments. “that was certainly an awful dream.” His position remained the same.

You simply hummed, not having a response.

“But it’s just as I said before. It was just a dream.” His hand moved to gently rest on your knee. “There’s absolutely no way I would ever do that. And I hope you know that.”

You smiled. “Yeah, I know.”

And like that, the imaginary wall crumbled. There was now nothing separating the two of you.

“I don’t even know why I would ever need to terrorize the city again anyway. I’m way too comfortable with my current life. I much prefer it. Besides, making Nakewameke is too much work.” Soular folded his arms, leaning back into the couch. It was almost as if the very thought of going back to his previous life made him stressed and tired.

You laughed at this. Now feeling more comfortable, you scooted closer to Soular. Not being able to resist, you pulled him in for a hug. He’s not the biggest fan of hugs, but he knew you needed one at that moment. So he reciprocated, gently rubbing your back.

Once you pulled away, he cupped your face in his hands, and gave you a quick kiss on the forehead. “Even if I did go back to my villainous ways, I would never hurt you.” He gave you the kindest smile you’ve seen from him.

While Soular didn’t quite know how to comfort people, he certainly did a good job there. Your nightmare no longer caused you stress or fear, and you didn’t feel the need to separate yourself emotionally from him. No longer was there an imaginary wall between the two of you, and if there would ever be one in the future, you know that it wouldn’t stay for long.

~~~🍩~~~🍩~~~🍩~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[hoseok666]

and they were roommates - ch. 7

pairings: jungkook x reader/taehyung x reader

genre: strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, eventual angst, eventual smut, fluff, pretty much everything . college!jungkook AU, college!taehyung AU, tsundere! jungkook, warm personality taehyung, slowburn

word count: 32.8 k (😏)

series summary: it all started with a rejection from your longtime crush, jeon jungkook. you decided to confess to him on your last day of high school. after a harsh rejection and a rough summer dealing with the heartbreak, you were starting anew once your freshman year of college came. you were going to be sharing an apartment with two other roommates that you don’t even know. what a surprise you’re going to be in for once you find out it’s the one and only: jeon jungkook and kim taehyung.

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6 | ch. 7

It’s around 8 in the morning when you wake up from your slumber. You’re greeted with a shock of pain shooting through your head and your body is feeling as if it’s floating on water. “Fucking hangover.” you grumble to yourself. You press a hand onto one of your temples. 

You managed to get up from your comfy bed and walk to your desk drawer, where you found a small bottle of pain reliever pills. You pop two of the capsules into your mouth, washing it down with a random bottle of water you had on top of your desk. The hangover wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. After all, you were able to sober up a lot faster than your friends did. 

You were about to lay back down on your bed until you felt your stomach rumble. It was making gassy noises and hunger cues at the same time. Great. I have to shit and eat. You open your bedroom door and are met with the smell of a rich, salty umami scent surfing around the apartment floor. The smell caused your stomach to growl even more. 

Before you went to check out whoever and whatever was in the kitchen, you used the restroom to release whatever your body wanted to waste out. After brushing your teeth and washing your hands, you applied heavy concealer where Jungkook had left his hickies on your neck from last night. You entered the kitchen and caught the sight of Taehyung stirring a large pot of miso soup with a ladle. Jimin was already sitting on the table sipping the soup. When Taehyung notices your presence, he greets you with his signature grin. “Morning, __. Sleep well?” 

“Yeah, I guess so. Woke up with a slight hangover though, so I just popped some pills. Do you guys need some?” you ask the two. Jimin shakes his head, rejecting your offer. “This soup is enough to cure me.” He says after swallowing down the rest of his bowl. “I’m good too but thanks for asking, ___.” Taehyung softened at you just being…you. Considerate, selfless you. It was one of the reasons why he fell in love with you. His stomach flip flops after he is reminded about the realization from last night. 

“Do you want some miso? It’ll help with rehydrating yourself.” Taehyung offered. You accepted his offer and joined Jimin at the table. “Can I sip on some of your water?” You ask Jimin. “Go ahead.” You gladly reach his large glass of fresh cold water, and your ‘sip’ turns into you finishing it completely. 

“So, I said you could have a sip, not finish it.” Jimin stared at you as if he wanted to kill you. “Relax, I’ll refill it for you.” You chuckle, and went to the sink, refilling the water that you indirectly declared was half yours now. 

After Taehyung serves you a medium-sized bowl of miso, he joins the table with you and Jimin with his own bowl too. He chose to sit next to you. You give Taehyung a grateful smile. “Thank you so much for the meal, Tae. I’ll eat it well.” Taehyung ruffles your hair and gives you a gentle pat on your back. “Enjoy.” 

As per usual, Jimin rolls his eyes at Taehyung being oblivious to his own feelings. There was a comfortable silence in the kitchen. Jimin was just scrolling through his phone while you and Taehyung were devouring the miso. 

While Jimin is scrolling through his Instagram stories, he sees that Namjoon has posted a couple of things on his story. Jimin skips through the ones of him just recording the party, and himself with his friends. Jimin was about to just skip his story entirely until he gets to a post of you and Namjoon posing in front of the mirror together. He had arm around you and you were holding up a peace sign. His eyes widened at the sight. “Wow, not Namjoon already posting you on his Instagram story.” Jimin excitedly shoves his phone in front of you. 

When you see the picture, your face heats up. “Oh, yea that happened.” You say sheepishly. Taehyung tried not to get jealous but he’s just naturally a jealous person. It doesn’t feel good for him to see you potentially seeing another guy, especially upon recently learning that Taehyung indeed has strong feelings for you. 

“Well? Are you just gonna say that? What else happened?” Jimin pressed. You debated on telling the boys that Namjoon had asked you out on a date later this week. You felt shy to say out loud that you were going on a first date with someone…ever. Namjoon is your first ever real date. You’ve kissed only two people in your life; Kim Seokjin, and one guy you had lost your virginity to when you were a third year in high school. His name was Hwang Hyunjin. You and Hyunjin were not an official couple. It was more like what they call nowadays; a “sneaky link”. Hyunjin was attracted to you, you thought he was hot enough to fuck. The two of you were just horny teenagers and wanted to get your virginities over with. It was just sex and kisses, no dates and no feelings. Hyunjin ended up transferring to a new school for his senior year and you haven’t heard from him since. 

You decided that you shouldn't make it a huge deal to hide the date from them. “He, uh, actually asked me out on a date later this week.” You confess. Jimin’s eyes immediately fixated on Taehyung's reaction. Taehyung tried to get himself to say something. Anything. But he felt as if his throat was closed. 

“That’s…great, __. Are you excited?” Jimin began. You nodded. “Yeah, I am. He seems nice.” You didn’t want to admit that he was your first date ever because you knew they were going to just tease you for being an inexperienced loser. “He’s supposed to text me later today to confirm the time and date.” You added. You chugged down a large spoonful of your miso. 

Taehyung remained silent. He wasn’t heartbroken but he felt challenged. If Taehyung wanted you, he had to get you one way or another. He doesn’t know if he should suppress his feelings or express it the best way he can. 

Suddenly, the three of you heard a bedroom door opening. It had to be Jungkook. Your stomach felt as if it was fluttering with anxiety. This would be the first time you would be facing Jungkook since you decided to end whatever relationship the two of you had. Enemies? Frenemies? Whatever the title was, you didn’t want anything to do with Jungkook for right now. 

It came to your surprise when it wasn’t Jungkook who entered the kitchen. The three of you made eye contact with a foreign figure standing in the kitchen entrance. It was a girl. A pretty girl. This pretty girl was wearing an oversized black t-shirt. Your stomach and heart dropped in realization when you knew who the shirt belonged to. 

“Morning.” she spoke out, giving you guys a short bow. She looked a bit nervous, as if she was meeting Jungkook’s parents. The three of you didn’t verbally say anything; you all slightly bowed back to her. “Would it be alright if I grabbed some water from the sink?” she asks, while playing her fingers. Taehyung motioned her where she could find the cups. “Go ahead.” He said. 

She smiled at him graciously, and grabbed herself not one but two small glasses. She filled them both up with water and gave you guys one final bow before walking back to Jungkook’s room. The slamming of the door brought the three of you back to reality. 

“Uhm.” Jimin starts. “Yeah..” Taehyung continues. “So, does he do this often?” Jimin asked you both. Taehyung shakes his head. “This is the first girl he’s ever brought back.” He informs. The emotion that was coursing through you was a mixture of pain, jolt, and numbness. “She’s pretty.” You admit. Jimin nodded in agreement. “Yeah, she is but..aren’t one night stands supposed to not interact with household members? That’s like against the law of hookups.” 

Taehyung snorted at Jimin’s sentence. “You’re so dumb.” He playfully hits his head. “Jungkook though? He’s really entering his hoe phase now. About time.” Jimin sighs in relief, crossing his arms behind his head as he leaned back into the chair. It was silent for a few seconds. Jimin sat up quickly at a realization. “That’s why I heard moaning when I came home last night. I thought it was Taehyung watching porn.” 

You managed to crack out a chuckle at Jimin’s abruptness. Jimin is the comedic relief in this household that you, Taehyung and Jungkook needed. 

. . .

When Yeri returned back to Jungkook’s room, he was still asleep. He was snoring quietly, his pink lips slightly parted. He was shirtless and bottomless underneath the covers. Yeri sat on her side of the bed and simply stared at Jungkook. She was in awe at his natural beauty. She could stare at him for hours. When Yeri took notice of him at the party last night, he was all she could stare at all night. His beauty was striking. When Yeri knows she wants something, she gets it. And that’s exactly what went down last night. 

Jungkook leant down to whisper in her ear and ask if she wanted to go back to his place. Without even thinking about it, she agreed. Yeri and Jungkook took an Uber back to the apartment. On the way there, the two of them were in a heavy makeout session throughout the entire ride. Poor Uber driver. At least the heavy tip Jungkook left for the driver made up for the trauma. The rest of the night was pure bliss for Yeri. She hasn’t cummed that many times in a one night stand since…ever. Jungkook was a god with his fingers, mouth, and with his dick. Yeri took a glance at her thighs to see if he left any marks on her. He was kissing them like crazy last night. She was met to see no hickies on her thighs, or neck or anywhere. 

Yeri knew that Jungkook shared his apartment with roommates but when she saw you in the kitchen with the other men, she wasn’t expecting one of his roommates to be a woman. And Yeri recognized you too. Yeri has only known Jungkook for twelve hours so she knew that it wasn’t any of her concern of what kind of people live with Jungkook. However, when she had seen Jungkook at the party, she knew that she did not want to use him to be any kind of a casual hookup. She wanted more. 

Jungkook’s eyes began to flutter open from his sleep. He was a light sleeper so he could feel that someone had been in his room and observing him. When his eyes fully opened, he was met with the sight of Yeri staring at him. He almost screamed, if he was being honest. He wasn’t expecting her to still be here when he awoke from his slumber. 

“Why hello there, Jungkook.” She cooed at him. She handed him a glass of water and two pain reliever capsules. 

Jungkook stared at her for a bit. He didn’t understand why she was still here and giving him pills and water as if she was his girlfriend or something. “Thanks.” he muttered and hesitantly took the water and medicine. 

He gulped it down and placed the empty glass on his nightstand. “How did you sleep?” Yeri asks. She reached down to tuck a piece of his jet-black hair behind his pierced ears. Jungkook shuddered at her touch. Her hands were freezing cold. 

Before he could answer, he looked around his bedroom. Their clothes were scattered throughout the floor. The messiest his room has ever been in awhile. He hates mess. He hates anything that isn’t in his order. 

When he attempted to sit up, his back instantly began to sting. It was as if his skin was ripped open. He hissed in pain and attempted to turn his head to examine the cause of the pain. Yeri got up from the bed and went to look at his back for him. When she noticed all the scratch marks she left on him, she winced hard. 

“Oh..I’m sorry. Seems like I scratched you a bit too hard.” She flashed him an apologetic smile. His mind flashbacked to Yeri riding him and digging her nails, piercing through his skin, from her pleasure. 

He cringed at the memory, not wanting to reminisce on what the two of them did last night. He felt awful to admit that he was embarrassed his drunk self caused him to engage into another hookup. Two hookups in one night was an extremely rare occasion for him. 

Over the summer, prior to beginning his freshman year at Konkuk, Jungkook decided to gain sexual experience to prepare himself for the college girls. He found girls on Tinder or Hinge that were willing to fuck and fuck only. As much as Jungkook tried to act like he didn’t care about girls and dating, he knew that he didn’t want to waste his college years without any sexual experience. He wanted to have stories to look back on, like Taehyung did. Jungkook didn’t like catching himself trying to follow Taehyung’s playboy footsteps however it was hard for him. Both Jungkook and Taehyung were extremely popular with women and it was overwhelming trying to contain the amount of attention the two of them had. 

“S’okay.” he mumbled back to Yeri’s apology. He got up from his bed and reached into his drawer to look for an outfit to change into. “I saw your roommates. They were eating in the kitchen.” Yeri mentioned. Jungkook silently panicked to himself. Everyone met her already? Why would she go into the kitchen and introduce herself?

“Are you hungry? We can join them in the kitchen, if you want?” She continued to talk. Jungkook wondered to himself why the hell Yeri won’t stop talking. He put on a gray plain sweatshirt, solid black boxers and matching gray sweatpants. “I, uh, actually have to be somewhere and am running late.” He indirectly asks her to leave. Yeri gets the message clearly. “So you live with her then?” She asks without any context. Jungkook cocks a brow up. “Who?” 

“The girl in the kitchen. I saw the two of you going somewhere in private last night.” If she was upset, she wasn’t showing it. “Oh. Her. She’s just my roommate. Needed to talk about her boy problems and came to me for advice.” He fed another lie. Yeri took a second to process what he said. She had a feeling that Jungkook wasn’t telling her the full truth. She remembered seeing you look annoyed with him and vice versa. 

“I see. Just wondering.” she ends the conversation. “So, I guess I’m going home in my Playboy bunny costume then?” She asks rhetorically, expecting Jungkook to give her an outfit to go home into. 

“Oh, sorry.” Jungkook went digging into his drawer to find a pair of shorts that he hoped would fit Yeri’s petite frame. He found a pair of biker shorts that should be able to fit Yeri. “Try this on.” She slides the shorts on. They were a bit loose on her waist but the oversized shirt she had on should be able to cover that. Jungkook then went into his closet and grabbed an unused trash bag. “You can put your costume inside this.” “I’ll order you an uber right now too.”

Yeri’s expectations for him were met expeditiously and she gave Jungkook bonus points for the trash bag. “Thank you.” She gives him a soft smile, which he returns back. “I’ll be going now. Hopefully, I’ll see you around to return your clothes sometime?” She asks with desperation laced in her tone.

Jungkook nodded in agreement. He had actually no plans to get in contact with Yeri again. He just needed to release the sexual frustration that was left in him after not being cum from the hookup with you. However, Yeri was wearing his most favorite black shirt so he definitely wanted that back. 

“Can I walk you to the door?” he offered. “Of course.” Jungkook opened his bedroom door for Yeri and the two of them made their way to the apartment door. Jungkook took a quick glance into the kitchen as he and Yeri walked past it. You were no longer in the kitchen. It was just Taehyung by himself and he was washing the dishes. 

When Yeri grabs onto the doorknob, she gives Jungkook one last look. “See you around, Jeon Jungkook.” She gives him one final flirty smile and exits the apartment. Jungkook breathes out a breath he was holding in. 

“So you’re hooking up now?” Taehyung approached him, slapping a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry, Tae. I know I shouldn’t do that. I won’t do it again.” Jungkook apologized. “What? I’m not upset. I’m beaming with joy! See?” He flashed him a toothy grin.

Jungkook smirked at his brother. “Very funny.” 

“So...how’d you guys meet? What’s her name?” Taehyung gave Jungkook a hyped up smile, finally happy that Jungkook is doing ‘regular-guy-things’ and not just sitting in his room doing homework and watching anime all day.

“This is where I stop talking to you.” Jungkook attempted to flee away from his annoying step-brother, but Taehyung wasn’t having any of that. “Bro, just tell me. I promise I’m not gonna stalk her or anything like that. Yet.” 

“What?”

“Kidding. Now tell me her name.”

Jungkook sighs in defeat. “Yeri. Just Yeri, I don’t know anything else about her. I literally just met her at the party last night.” 

As Jungkook said that, he was on his phone as if he wasn’t paying him any attention. This ticked Jungkook off. “How are you gonna make me tell you stuff about her when you’re on your ph-“

“Got it. I found her Instagram. Lee Yerim. Must go by Yeri for short.” Taehyung interrupted and shoved his cellphone in front of his face. Jungkook didn’t care to look at her Instagram page that was right in front of him. He doesn’t care about Yeri.

“I didn’t ask to see her Insta, dude.” 

“You don’t wanna follow her? At all?”

Jungkook groaned in annoyance. “I’m not like you. I don’t crawl back to every woman I touch.” 

Taehyung clicked his phone’s off button and tucked it into one of his pockets. He chuckled at Jungkook’s shade. “When are you gonna meet someone you genuinely care about?” he asked abruptly.

Jungkook was taken aback by his question. “Why are you asking this?”

Tae shrugged. “I just would like to see you experiencing love. Or a crush. Or even tolerate someone.” 

Jungkook’s jaw clenched a bit. Jungkook can’t remember the last time he felt romantic emotions toward someone. It’s not like he doesn’t do romance, though. It is just not a priority for him right now. He doesn’t prioritize anything that doesn’t benefit himself or his career in any way. Besides, love hasn’t done anything spectacular for his life. Love is like an estranged parent for him: knows it exists, but not familiar to it.

Jungkook is aware that his estranged relationship with love is why he has a cold personality. The closest person in his life that he can confidently know that he loves is Taehyung. 

“I don’t have time for love.” He simply answered. Taehyung let out a breath. He knew he was going to say that. Jungkook doesn’t make time for anything that doesn’t have to do with his studies or work.

“Love doesn’t care about timing. You can’t always push the thought of a relationship away.” 

“I can do what I want.” Jungkook stubbornly continued. Taehyung rolled his eyes at his brother. “You’re so annoying.” Taehyung walked away from Jungkook and made his way towards his bedroom. “I’m gonna get ready for work.” 

Jungkook stared at his figure until he disappeared into his bedroom. After being left alone, he released a long breath of air. Taehyung and his weird questions reminded Jungkook of you. He remembered the question you had asked him a while ago: “Are you content with your life?”

Jungkook still doesn’t know the answer to that question.

. . .

 It was the next week, a Saturday afternoon, when you were in the middle of cleaning your room until you heard a ding sound from your phone. 

You walked over to where you had left your cell phone charging on your bed. 

Namjoon: So how does tomorrow at 5pm sound? Dinner on me. 

Your heart quickened at Namjoon finally texting you. You would be lying if you said that you weren’t waiting on his text all day. You didn’t want to respond right away, it would look too desperate.

Instead, you immediately texted Hoseok. 

you: guess who’s going on a date tomorrow :)

Immediately, he responded. Typical Hoseok.

hobi: uhm WHAT..

 with who???

you: guess 😝

hobi: taehyung ??

You groaned in annoyance. Taehyung and I will never happen.

you: no. -.-

hobi: then i don’t care

you: LOL ur so annoying. Do you remember the guy I was dancing with last night?

hobi: wait him? he’s actually so fine. GO AHEAD 🥸

you: hehe thanks :) I can't wait to see where he’ll take me. 

hobi: bring protection <3

you: i don't let them hit on the first date 💋

. . .

“You know Namjoon and __’s date is today, right?” Jimin joined Taehyung in the living room. “Yeah, I do.” 

Jimin searched for a sign of jealousy on his best friend’s face. “So, what do you think of the two? Think they’re cute together?” Jimin decided to play with him. 

“Yeah, they’re alright.” Taehyung replied dryly. “Hey. Cut it out,” Jimin snapped. Taehyung looked up from his phone and shot Jimin a bewildered look. “Fuck are you talking about?” 

“Cut your little act. I’ve been your best friend since we were fucking five. Do you really think you can hide shit from me? I know you like __. Heck, I’m shocked that no one else caught onto it because you make it obvious as hell. When she enters the room, she’s all you’re looking at.” Jimin spat. He was beyond irritated at this point. “Why are you just gonna sit there and let your feelings continue to build up?”

Taehyung remained silent. This time, he didn’t want to lie and say that he didn’t like you when he really did. And he was desperate to talk about it with someone. Someone he trusts. 

“She’s my friend,” He starts off. Jimin was about to call him out again until Taehyung continued.

“And I don’t want to ruin the friendship we’ve built together. Plus, she seems happy dating around right now.” 

“I don’t understand. Are you admitting that you have feelings for her?” Jimin asked for clarification.

Taehyung takes a deep breath. He’s nervous as fuck. Jimin will never leave him alone once he confirms it to him. 

“I do.” 

Immediately, Jimin jumps to his feet and runs toward Taehyung, plopping his butt down the couch, next to him.

“Finally! Fucking finally! When did you come to your senses?” Taehyung couldn’t help but to laugh at Jimin’s excitement. He expected Jimin to be happy but not this happy. 

“Last night, I guess? I don’t know man. We were just on the way home after the party. And I felt…just so happy doing the most mundane thing with her.” 

Jimin smiled in pure genuinity at hearing his best friend babble himself over you. As a good best friend would be, he wanted his best friend to be happy more than anything. 

“Wow, this is so crazy, Tae. My boy is in love.” He sings out ‘love’. “Please shut up.” 

Jimin topples over in happiness and laughter with Taehyung. “So, what’s next now? You’re just gonna continue being her friend? Even though it'll literally kill you on the inside?” 

“For now, yes. I don’t wanna overwhelm her. She’s probably just trying to date around and live life. Doesn't wanna settle down with a simple guy like me yet, right?” Jimin groaned as soon as he finished his sentence. “With that mentality, you will never have a girlfriend. Tae, you have a good personality, good looks, and have a great sense of humor. You have the golden trio! Why not use it to your advantage and get the girl? It’s not like Namjoon is her boyfriend.” 

“I just need to be sure that our friendship is ready to go to the next level. I don’t want to just confess, and make it awkward for us if she doesn’t feel the same. Also, you can’t forget that we are literally roommates. It would be a stressful living situation for not just her, but you and Kook would be affected as well. There’s a lot to consider here.” Taehyung rambled on. He knew he was making valid points. Potentially dating your roommate is one of the most awkward and stressful decisions anyone could make. Jimin could see where he was coming from. 

“You’re right. Sorry for pestering you about it, I’m just excited to be right about you.” Taehyung snorted at that. “Dickhead.”

“Do I actually only stare at __ when she’s in the room?”

“You literally drool.” 

Jimin suddenly had an idea. But it was a bad idea. It was…sort of manipulative. And this idea hit him out of nowhere. Seeing the way Taehyung lit up talking about you, it was something Jimin had never seen before. Like Jimin and all of their highschool population, they all knew that Taehyung used to be quite a player. Therefore, the sight of Taehyung genuinely liking a girl was very new and refreshing. And as his best friend in the whole world, Jimin has the right to do anything to make his friend happy. 

. . .

Drip.

A singular droplet plopped on the top of your head. You looked up to the sky, only to be met with incoming dark gray clouds. Fuck. Of course it would rain right now. 

As if on cue, one singular droplet turned into two, three, four and many more. 

The smell of wet concrete and humidity filled the air. The rain began to drench you. You sighed heavily with great annoyance at this inconvenience. The bus stop you were at had no benches nor a shelter. It was just a pole and a sign. You held your hands up above you, as if you could successfully umbrella yourself on your own.

You checked your cell phone for the millionth time, hoping for a text from Namjoon…again. 

Your date was supposed to start thirty minutes ago. You were waiting outside for him, mentally giving him the benefit of the doubt. But you knew he wasn’t coming. He didn’t even have the audacity to call or text that he wasn’t going to make it. You felt humiliated and angry. You’ve never been stood up before and you didn’t know why or if you did anything for Namjoon to ditch you. 

You sigh of defeat and begin to make your way home. Even though you were literally at a bus stop, you felt that walking in the rain would match the mood you were feeling. A bit dramatic of you but it was suitable for the situation.

As you were walking, a dark, moody presence was felt behind you. Its presence was so calming yet uncomfortable at the same time. And familiar too.

The rain that was drenching you seconds ago came to a halt. 

You were looking down at the ground as you turned and you were met with a pair of black Doc Marten boots. Immediately recognizing whose shoes it belonged to, you looked up and was unsurprisingly met with the sight of Jeon Jungkook, holding an umbrella above you.

You and Jungkook remained in intense eye contact. Your breath was hitched in your throat. This was the last thing you would’ve expected to happen to you. He was the last person you would expect to hold an umbrella for you.

“Hi.” Jungkook spoke. “Hi.” you say back, looking intensely into his soulless eyes. 

It was extremely uncomfortable to be alone with him after what happened at the Halloween party. You had been successfully doing your best to avoid him. It was still hard for your mind to wrap around the fact the two of you had hooked up together. 

“W-what’s up?” You croaked out. “I’m heading home.” 

“So am I.” He said. “Let’s go home together.” Jungkook stood beside you, trying his best to make the umbrella completely cover the both of you. Your heart was beating erratically right now. Jungkook remained quiet as the two of you walked together. “Wait, weren’t we just at a bus stop?” Jungkook halted. You hesitantly nodded. “Then why are we walking? Let’s just head back to the stop. I’m sure the bus will be coming soon.” He said monotonically. You followed him as if you were a lost puppy and the two of you sat on the bus stop bench. 

The awkward tension was thick enough to slice your skull open. Your heart’s beating only got quicker and if you felt as if you could faint at any moment. You hated this; why is he here? Why is he talking to you as if nothing went down between you both? You wanted to so badly run away and never come back to your apartment. 

The bus finally arrived after what felt like an eternity. Jungkook got up and motioned you to get in first. 

You sped away and hopped on the bus and tried to sit as far as you could, hoping that Jungkook would get his own seat.

Unfortunately that did not happen. 

“What are you..” You stammer. Jungkook closed his umbrella and readjusted his sitting position.

Jungkook stared straight ahead from his seat, as if he didn't have a single thought running through his head. Soon after, you felt the bus rumbling. As the bus drove away from your stop, you looked out the window.

Just five minutes ago, you were waiting impatiently for your date to arrive, you gave up and tried to go home alone but now you are taking the bus home with Jeon Jungkook sitting right next to you.

It has been a couple of days since the Halloween party incident and you have done a great job at distancing yourself from Jungkook. You hadn’t spoken a word to him since then and have not seen him physically. It drove you a bit mad, though. Not seeing him, not having any contact with him while trying to avoid making the apartment’s tension awkward. You were willing to take the Halloween incident to the grave with you. 

“So, I’m guessing the date didn’t go well?” 

You snapped your head to face him. “Huh? What makes you say that?” You scoffed. 

“If it went well, you wouldn’t be riding the bus home alone right now, would you?” 

You scoffed again, completely blown. “This guy..” you mumbled under your breath. “What if I took the bus alon to meet up with him? I’m going home the same way I went. Alone.” you lied. It was for your pride. 

“Why would a guy let his date go home alone?” He asked. Why is he asking so many questions? Why does he want to pick on you so bad? Wasn’t the Halloween incident enough?

You decided to ignore him. You weren’t going to feed into what he wants to hear. Silence fell between the two of you for a moment. 

Not wanting to sit in silence with Jungkook, you opened your bag and reached your earpods. As soon as you were about to insert a pod into an ear, the annoying boy spoke again. 

“Namjoon isn’t a serious guy.”

This got your attention. “What?”

“Going on a date with Kim Namjoon and expecting anything after is like waiting for world peace to happen: impossible. You should’ve known better.” He scolded you. Your eyebrow twitched upward. “Why are you telling me to do better? It was just for fun.” You lied again. You were embarrassed to admit that you were hoping your date with Namjoon would turn into something new and exciting and serious.

“Frat guys are a waste of time. They are not fun nor serious. Don’t waste your precious time with them.” He continued. 

This made you angrier. Why does he care so much? 

“Well, I got stood up. So, it doesn’t really matter anymore. You won’t catch me trying to hang out with a frat guy ever again.”

You didn’t like that you were venting out your feelings to Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook was the last person to care about your feelings and thoughts on just about anything. 

“You can’t just let any guy date you. You have to be careful and selective with whom you choose to date.” Jungkook annoyingly analyzed. You chuckle at him. “What are you, Aristotle? No, he just faked his personality at the party to get himself some pussy.” You shot back. This earned an arrogant smile from Jungkook. “Maybe so.” 

“Where did you come from?” You decided to prompt. Might as well try to continue whatever conversation the two of you were sharing. “Just errands.” He cracked his knuckles. Something tells you that Jungkook was doing more than errands. Perhaps he went out with the girl from the party that he fucked last night. You hate the fact that you still feel hurt whenever you think about Jungkook doing things with another girl that wasn’t you.

“Are you okay?” You turned to look at Jungkook. You were shocked to hear him ask you this type of question. 

“Why are you asking?” 

“Just answer me.” 

You gulped down saliva and nodded. “I’m fine. Not my fault that he didn’t have the balls to tell me he didn’t wanna go out anymore.” 

Jungkook liked hearing that you weren’t gonna let Namjoon ruin your mood. It made you seem strong. “Was he gonna be your first date?” He continued to ask. Suddenly, this bus ride felt way too long. You didn’t know that Jungkook had such a nosey side to him.

Immediately, you became defensive, like always. “Hey, Jungkook. I’m not this bitchless loser you are making me out to be. I’ve been on dates before,” you lied. “I’ve been kissed before, I’ve had sex before, I’ve done everything, okay?” You said a bit too loudly. You tried ignoring the stares you were getting from other bus passengers. Jungkook stifled back a laugh at your irritated response. “Everything?” He repeated.

You couldn’t help but wheeze out a brief laugh. “Shut up.” You groaned, biting your lower lip to restrict more laughter to come out. 

“I am still doubting it. You have no game.” It was as if Jungkook’s favorite game in the world was to get under your skin and you despised how easy it was for you to give him the power to constantly and consistently piss you off. 

“Really? Do you remember Hwang Hyunjin? He was one of the cutest guys in our grade,” you looked Jungkook straight in the eyes. He was still facing straight but it seemed like he was listening. “Well, we fucked back then. And when I say fuck I mean actually fucked. Like dick-inside-vagina fuck.” Again, you got more stares from the person sitting in front of you. You returned back a scowl. 

Jungkook slowly began to face you. To say that he was shocked was an understatement. Hwang Hyunjin used to be one of the guys that every girl in their school wanted. It was like a competition between him and Jungkook on who was the most popular guy in their grade. Jungkook didn’t give a single fuck about him but Hyunjin constantly tried to belittle him to make him feel better about himself. At first he would try to bully him for being the smartest student in their class and for Jungkook’s preference of sitting alone everywhere. However, Jungkook had to teach Hyunjin a lesson on not to mess with him; a violent lesson.

After that, Hyunjin kept his distance from Jungkook for the rest of the school year; all the way until his transfer to a different high school in the middle of their third year. He was surprised that you were previously sexually involved with Hyunjin. He wasn’t exactly the nicest guy nor was he the type of guy he thought you would go for. 

“You…used to sleep with Hyunjin?” He asked. You nodded proudly. “Wow. Maybe you are dumb after all.” 

You rolled your eyes heavily and didn’t feel like continuing this conversation with him anymore. “Why don’t I remember seeing the two of you interact?” 

“We weren’t in a relationship. Just fuck buddies or whatever.” You mumbled. You have moved on from Hyunjin after he transferred but the memory of Hyunjin’s commitment issues and his treatment towards you still hurts to remember. 

You thought that he could’ve been the one. However, he strictly wanted your fling to be sexual only. No strings attached whatsoever. But in your head, Hyunjin was the most ‘thoughtful’ guy you had ever known. He was ‘thoughtful’ enough to worry about you to make sure you don’t get hurt or get led on this situationship. You thought he was careful, articulate, and set on what he wants in life. You thought he cared about you by the way he would caress your body and leave sweet kisses all over you after sex. You thought he cared about you by the way he would give you secret winks at the school hallway, as if he was flirting with you. You thought he liked you by the way he would moan your name and your name only during sex. He would say how good you felt, how good you tasted, how your kisses are the best. You thought he liked you when he would act like he didn’t know you at school. He was just trying to protect your identity, right?

Hwang Hyunjin was not thoughtful. He was not careful, not articulate, and not set on what he wanted. He didn’t care about you nor did he like you. It was all in your head.  As if your situation wasn’t any more cliché, Hyunjin was just a popular guy hooking up with a not-so popular girl and he was too ashamed to be associated with you. When in the privacy of your childhood bedroom, that was when he was being his true self. Outside of those walls, he was ashamed of you. Embarrassed of you. He just wanted you for sex and sex only. He used you and a part of you—no—all of you knew that. You just thought, in your little idealized mind, he actually wanted you at all. 

And that’s what hurt you in the end. Your fantasies. 

After Hyunjin, Jeon Jungkook returned to the picture:

It’s common knowledge that Jungkook was the genius of your high school. He was too focused on his schoolwork to have fun and date around. And you had admired that about him. Jungkook was one of the many school’s heartthrob, but he was the top. The ultimate one, the one that every single girl in Busan knew of and wanted. Due to his prestigious awards and national acknowledgments, your entire hometown knew of Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook was not only idealized by you but every other girl who had a crush on him. You thought he was mysterious, suave, introverted, and humble. 

The Jungkook that you know as of right now is still the same introverted intelligent guy but he’s abrasive, cold, and self centered. He’s not emotionally intelligent. He only thinks for and about himself. He’s extremely blunt and honest with his words and he doesn’t know how to read the room. He has the beauty and the brains but you’re not sure if he has the basic foundation of being a good person. 

“I’m guessing your type is selfish assholes.” Jungkook spoke. You smirked. “I mean yeah, I used to like you, right?” 

Jungkook's eyes darkened at that, slightly intimidating you. “What? Are you not a selfish asshole?” You edged. “I don’t care what you think of me. I could care less of what anyone thinks of me. If you want to think of me as a selfish asshole, then go ahead.” He hissed. He was so irritated with you.

“I don’t have to think about it, I know it. And you’re also someone I was dumb enough to like. You even said so yourself.” 

Jungkook looked confused. “You said you don’t like dumb girls, remember that?” 

“You’re expecting me to remember any conversations I’ve had with you?” 

“I’m not the one who’s trying to engage in conversing with you. You chose to sit next to me and ask about Namjoon. Maybe go sit somewhere else so you can continue to forget about this conversation too.” You couldn’t help your anger at the moment. Jungkook gets under your skin so badly, as if he yearns to piss you off. You’ve never had anyone push your buttons the way Jungkook did. 

Jungkook remained silent yet continued to stare at you. A new, indescribable emotion quickly flew through him when he saw the way your lips were pouting softly and seeing the way your eyebrows were crinkled in frustration. He had to hold back a chuckle seeing you so upset with him. You looked as if you were a child that was denied candy. Jungkook kind of melted in a way seeing you in this state. “Didn’t realize you were so whiny,” he continued to tease. 

“Jungkook, I swear to god if yo-”

Two small bottles of banana milk and strawberry milk were shoved in front of your face. “Pick one.” He interrupted. You quickly shut up and angrily eyed the two milks. “Why?” 

“You don’t want them?” 

“No, I do, it’s just…,” 

“Just what?” 

You gave him a suspicious look. “You poisoned them, right?” This earned a hearty chuckle from Jungkook. “Look at you being a comedian.” 

You pouted again as you snatched the banana milk from one of his hands. 

“I’m done with boys.” You say out of nowhere. This gets Jungkook’s attention. “What do you mean?”

“I’m done with boys. I’m…not going on another date with a guy unless I truly know him. You know, I’m here to get good grades, make memories and have fun. Not to waste my time on dudes who just want to dip their dick in anything that has a hole.” You vented out once again. “And I meant it when I said that I was done liking you. In case you remembered what went down on Halloween. I don’t know you well, therefore there is no use of me to continue liking you. I hope that we can move forward from what happened on that day.”

Jungkook, stunned, stared at you. He had no idea what to say. He suddenly felt a bit intimidated to be sitting near you. Especially since you brought up that forbidden night between the two of you. 

And then, he too, felt pity towards you. The past few months he had gotten to know you had been full of arguing and distance. Here you are, apologizing to him for simply liking him—or liked—him and not knowing him well. Jungkook felt uncomfortable. He didn’t like that you were still being kind to him after everything he’s done to you. 

“I’m sorry you haven’t seen the real me yet. I’ll work on that.” He replied.

You gave him a perplexed look. “Real you? You mean you aren’t an asshole?” Jungkook let out a laugh at that, rolling his eyes. “You’re the asshole.” He mumbled.

“Are we on good terms now?” Jungkook bored his doe eyes onto yours. Of course, he’s still gorgeous, that’s never going to change. 

“Yeah. Good terms. Good roommates!” You grin. Jungkook rolled his eyes at you again. “Good terms, good roommates. Okay.” And the two of you shared a kind smile with each other.

“Konkuk University.” An automated voice called out the next stop. “We’re home.” You say. The two of you get up from your seats and ride off the bus.

Jungkook felt a sense of satisfaction in his chest after the two of you agreed to remain on good terms. Before, he felt as if he was walking on millions of eggshells around you, trying to avoid the extreme tension between you both. He didn’t want to live in a household where he needed to avoid a single roommate that hated his guts. He didn’t want that energy soaring through the apartment. And so, he needed to reach good terms with you. Not just regular okay terms, it needed to be good for him. For some reason, he didn’t want bad blood between you and him.

It was just you and him walking together towards your apartment. The rain turned into a slight drizzle, pitter pattering on the pavement. Jungkook whipped out the umbrella and placed it above the two of you again.

“It’s just drizzling.” You say.

“Don’t ruin the moment.” 

. . .

It was one in the morning when Jungkook was interrupted by his studying when he received a text message from a random number. He dropped his pen on the desk and picked up his iPhone.

unknown: what are u doing tomorrow?

He raised a brow up. Who could be texting me? I have everyone’s number saved.

He decided to reply back to the mysterious human. Maybe it was just a bot?

jungkook: Who is this?

Almost immediately, the person/bot responded. 

unknown: wow are you seriously asking this

Jungkook was starting to get annoyed. He wasn’t in the mood to play games, he has a fucking exam tomorrow. He thought that maybe his roommates would know who the mysterious number was. Maybe it was a friend of theirs?

He got up from his desk and opened his door. You, Jimin and Taehyung were in the kitchen baking brownies. The three of them offered Jungkook to join but he declined the offer. “Do any of you guys know who the hell this number belongs to?” He showed the contact to the three, furrowing his brows in annoyance. 

“No idea, Kook.” Jimin answered. You and Taehyung shook your heads, also not knowing who the number belonged to.

“Seems like you should know who they are.” Taehyung smirked. Jungkook tilted his head, still thinking about who it could be. “I seriously save everyone’s number, brother. It might just be a bot or someth-“ The mysterious number double texted.

unknown: its yeri. We exchanged numbers the other night? lol.

Jungkook’s confused expression turned into a solemn deadpanned look. “Nevermind. I know who it is.” Jungkook sighed.

“Well who is it?” Jimin asked as he licked raw brownie batter off the mixing spoon. “None of your business. I’m going back to studying. Let me know when the brownies are ready.” Jimin didn’t let him walk away so easily. He jumped on Jungkook’s back, causing an uproar from him. “What the-“ 

Taehyung joined in and grabbed the phone from him while Jimin physically held him back. “What are you assholes doing?” Jungkook shouted. You were stifling back a laugh at the sight of Jungkook being thrown around. 

“Well well well. If it isn't Ms. Yeri hitting you up, eh?” Taehyung cooed out. He reread Yeri’s text over and over. A grin spread on his face. Taehyung was happy that Yeri and Jungkook were still keeping in contact. Finally a girl that could make him happy, right?

Your heart admittedly sank at hearing that sentence. It was obvious that Yeri must be the girl that Jungkook slept with from the Halloween party. You could tell that she was into Jungkook at the night of the party but you didn’t think that the two of them would still keep in contact after the party. He must really like her.

Jungkook was finally able to push Jimin off of him. “She’s the one hitting me up. I had no idea she had my phone number.” Jungkook groaned. He took a quick glance at you and Taehyung. And another quick glance at you. 

“Well we aren’t gonna let you leave until you respond to her.” Jimin jumped on his back again, causing Jungkook to whimper in pain. “You’re so heavy, Jimin.” 

“Quit stalling and text her back already.” Taehyung snapped. “I’m not stalli-” 

“Now.”

Jungkook snatched the phone away from Taehyung and quickly replied back a “hey yeri” to her. “Okay, I replied.” The two boys gave a congratulatory slap on his back, grinning from ear to ear. “Look at you! Finally hitting it off with a girl. Don’t they grow up so fast, Jimin?” 

“They sure do, Taehyung.” The boy's unseriousness caused you to giggle. “You guys are traumatizing Jungkook.” you say. Jungkook nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you’re traumatizing me. Why are you two happy that you are traumatizing me? I’m supposed to be studying.”

“Fuck you and your studies and come hang out with us.” Taehyung sneered. 

Jungkook wanted to kill himself. It is now close to four in the morning and his three other roommates were up laughing their asses off at a movie Taehyung had chosen. It was supposedly a comedy but it was anything but funny. Jungkook just wanted to desperately go back to his room and continue studying. And it didn’t help that Yeri wouldn’t get the hint that Jungkook didn’t want to be texting her at the moment. He was sending the driest texts and she would still find something else to talk about. 

yeri: So what are u up to right now?

Jungkook rolled his eyes. She’s already asked this question like five times now. He caught sight of your eyes drifting back and forth into a slumber. It was as if you were trying hard to fight the sleep away. No one else noticed this but Jungkook. 

jungkook: Watching a movie. 

yeri: oh cool! What's it called?

jungkook: Idk. 

At this point, you were averaging a couple seconds of sleep, and returned back to watching the movie. Taehyung and Jimin still had their eyes glued onto the screen, fully awake, like children who didn’t want to go to bed at all.

yeri: we should watch a movie together! How does tomorrow night sound?

Jungkook’s eyes widened at the text. Yeri boldly just asked him out on a date. He didn’t know what to say. He has never been asked out on a date before. It wasn’t like he was nervous or anything but he hardly knows Yeri. Jungkook debated whether or not he should even agree to the date or not. 

Taehyung turned his head over to glance at you. You were in the middle of sleeping. Your lips were slightly parted open, with just a trickle of drool dropping down from your lips. You were snoring as soft as a baby. Taehyung’s heart clenched at the sight of you deep in sleep. This was the second time he had seen you like this. He doesn’t think he will ever get tired of this view of you looking so gorgeous. It’s all he can look at. The movie wasn’t as interesting as seeing you subconsciously away from the world.

And then out of nowhere, you screeched out a heavy snore. Immediately, Jimin yelped at the horrific sound. “What the fuck?” Taehyung bursted out laughing, not being able to hold it in. Jungkook too had a smile twitching from the corner of his lips. “Has she always been a snorer?” Jimin asked in a whispered voice. “Yeah. She snores pretty often.” Jungkook answered without a second thought. Taehyung and Jimin gave him a shocked stare, as if they weren’t expecting him to know that. 

“What? She literally lives right next to me? Our walls are thin.” Taehyung and Jimin nodded understandably. Still, Jungkook found his cheeks warming slightly at them being surprised of Jungkook knowing a sleeping habit of yours. 

Your loud snores shifted into soft purrs. “Let’s wake her up after the movie ends. There’s a few minutes left.” Jimin suggested. Jungkook kept glancing back at Yeri's text. It was just there staring back at him, taunting for a response. He didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to go but he hardly knew Yeri at all. All they did was hookup once and now she’s asking to go out on a date. Okay, so maybe Jungkook wasn’t cool with the idea: He’s a practical guy. He sees himself going out on dates with women he’s physically, emotionally and sexually attracted to. He has to like her looks, like her personality, and see himself sleeping with her at some point. He’s not into wasting his time on just any girl. 

Suddenly, Jungkook remembered his conversation with you on the bus earlier. You apologized to him for liking him. Apologized. As if you liking him was some kind of crime. 

You apologized for not liking the real Jungkook, just the version you liked in your head. It was at that moment that Jungkook thought to himself that your mentality was more mature than it seemed. You gave up on your longtime crush on him and accepted to be friendly with him, even after the messy hookup the two of you shared on Halloween. He thought to himself that if you can give Jungkook another chance of being “friendly roommates” then he can give Yeri a chance of possibly showing a different impression of herself. Jungkook was ready to reply back to Yeri’s proposal. 

jungkook: Okay. When and where?

When he locked his phone after replying, his breath halted at a weird sight in front of him. 

Taehyung wasn’t watching the film on the tv screen anymore. He was watching you sleep. He was watching the way your chest heaved up and down. Taehyung was absorbing the view of you sleeping because it was such a precious sight to him. Seeing you so quiet and away from the world was like a new kryptonite unlocked. 

Jungkook immediately caught on that the way Taehyung was staring wasn’t like his usual self. He knew that this was different. It was as if he didn’t want to believe the sight that was in front of him was real and happening.

Jimin stood up from his chair and stretched big. “Movie’s over, guys. I’m gonna do my skincare routine and then knock.” Jimin’s voice woke you up. “Damn, I was trying hard not to sleep.” You yawned. Taehyung smirked at you. “You were snoring, by the way.” Your eyes widened and you threw your head back out of embarrassment. “Fuck, you guys should’ve woken me up as soon as you heard me snoring. You know snoring is bad, right? I’m basically choking on my spit.” Taehyung chuckled at your dramatic response and reached out his hand for you to grab, to get you up from the chair. 

“Okay, drama queen. Go to your bed. I got to work in a few hours, I need to sleep badly.” Taehyung pulled you up from your chair. You pouted at the nickname he called you. “Fine. Goodnight, boys.” You waved at Jungkook and Taehyung before walking slowly towards your bedroom. It was just the two brothers left.

Jungkook felt uneasy at the moment. He witnessed Taehyung giving you a longing glare as you slept. Taehyung began cleaning up the dishes that were scattered throughout the living room, humming a little song to himself. Jungkook found himself thinking about the way Taehyung looked at you. He can’t seem to think that the way he looked at you was actually sincere; as if it held a meaning to it. With the way Jungkook had studied Taehyung's past history with women, he was feeling a mixture of being bitter and confused. What is it about you that has Taehyung acting not like himself? 

. . .

It was around 5 o’clock in the evening when Jungkook entered the kitchen to grab himself a glass of water. He was dressed and ready to head out to his movie date with Yeri. He wasn’t looking forward to it, as expected, but he didn’t want to flake on Yeri. 

You were completing an assignment on your laptop at the kitchen table as he was getting his water glass. 

“Heading out for the night?” You asked him without looking up from your laptop screen. Jungkook took a large gulp and nodded. “Mhm.”

“Lucky you.” You chuckled. “Are you studying for once?” Jungkook asked. He walked over to take a glance over your screen. You were writing an essay and he saw that you were about 10 pages in. “Wow, ten pages?” 

You nodded and sighed in exhaustion. “Yeah, it’s some dumb critical analysis essay I have to write for my women and gender studies class. It has to be at least 15 pages.” 

Jungkook's eyes widened. “I don’t think I’ve ever written that much before.” 

“Yeah well that’s because you’re a dumb little STEM major. You have to code an entire website and create a whole new periodic element for homework, right?” You joked. Jungkook grabbed your earlobes and lightly pinched it, earning a loud yelp from you. “Shut up, undecided major.” 

You rolled your eyes as a response and reverted back to writing your essay. “So where are you going?” You asked. Jungkook hesitated and thought if it was a good idea to tell you about the date. Not because he thought that you would be sad or anything because according to you, you are “over him”, but because he didn’t want you running off to tell Taehyung and Jimin about the date. Knowing them, they would persuade Jungkook to keep seeing Yeri. 

However, he couldn’t come up with an excuse. “I’m hanging out with some friends from my internship.” He lied. You snorted. “Friends? Since when did you have other friends aside from Yoongi?” You laughed. “You don’t know my personal life.” He defended. “You’re right, I don’t but I know for sure that you’re too much of an antisocial asshole to tolerate having more than one friend. You can barely stand Taehyung and Jimin.”

Jungkook hated knowing that you were right. Maybe you knew him better than he thought. “Are you lying about your whereabouts, Jeon Jungkook?” You turned to face him. With the direct eye contact, Jungkook found himself stuttering and trembling on what to say. He’s a terrible liar. 

“N-No, I’m not. You’re being nosy.” He groaned, chugging down the rest of his water. This caused you to stand up from your chair and you began to face Jungkook directly. “Tell me the truth! Are you going to sell some drugs?”

I wish I was, he thought to himself. “___.” He warned. “Are you going to meet up with someone?” 

Before Jungkook could reply, you noticed something sticking out of the pockets of the puffer jacket he was wearing. Immediately, you snatched the mysterious items out of his pockets and inspected it. 

“___, give me that!” Jungkook snapped, trying to reach over your shoulder to grab them out of your hands but you were able to run away from his reach. 

You glanced over at the two movie tickets in your hands. “You’re going to the movies?” You giggled. 

Jungkook pursed his lips together in annoyance and snatched the tickets out of your hands. “You make it hard for me to be nice to you.” He sighs in frustration. “You have two tickets too, so you’re going to see it with someone.” You teased. “Is it with Yoongi? Does Hoseok know? Hoseok will get sad knowing him. He gets FOMO so easily.”

Jungkook decided to tell the truth since he doesn't know what other lies to say since he knows for sure that you would most likely blab to Hoseok about the movie. “No…I’m going to see it with just a girl I met.” 

Your eyes widened at hearing that. “A-A girl?” You stuttered. “Like a…date?” 

Jungkook nodded. He examined the look on your face however you had an unreadable expression. “Oh geez, sorry about keeping you here then. You should probably head out now, right? Wouldn’t want to keep your date waiting!” You forced a smile on your face and shuffled your way back to your laptop to continue writing your essay. 

Jungkook stood where he was, not knowing what to say or what to do next. Jungkook found himself wanting to stay home and preferring to spend his night sleeping in bed, reading his manga or even continuing to stay in the kitchen with you to bug you some more and chat. However, he knew that you were right. He had to leave soon or else Yeri would be waiting for him for too long. 

“Just don’t tell my brother or Jimin, please. I don’t want them to bug me about it.” Jungkook pleaded. You nodded in agreement. “I understand.” 

Jungkook shuffled his feet and cleared his throat. “Okay, well I’m leaving now.” 

Jungkook was about to leave until he heard you calling his name. “Jungkook!” He slowly reentered the room. 

“Good luck on your date.” You gave him a soft smile. 

Jungkook simply nodded back and left. 

. . .

Jungkook had been gone for over two hours now and you were still stuck on page 10 of your essay. You couldn’t stop thinking about the idea of Jungkook going on a date with someone. It was even harder to swallow the fact that that someone isn’t you. 

You hated to admit it but getting over Jungkook wasn’t going as easy as you thought it would’ve been. Of course you are aware of the fact that Jungkook would never like you back and that you only liked an idealized version of Jungkook, however you still held strong romantic feelings for Jungkook either way. 

The past two hours, you kept comparing yourself to the girl that he went on the date with. Was she prettier? Was she smarter than you? Did they meet through his engineering classes? What does Jungkook like about her? Was he having a good time right now?

Your heart clenched at the possibilities. 

“Hey.” You heard a voice coming from behind. You jumped and turned your head to see Taehyung smiling at you. 

Immediately, you returned a genuine smile back at him. “Hi Tae!” 

“What are you doing?” 

You sighed. “I’m just struggling on this essay. I haven’t written anything.” Taehyung snaked an arm around your shoulder. “Well, when exactly is this essay due?” 

“Tomorrow, I think? I was on a roll but now I’ve lost all my concentration.” You pout. “Hm. Maybe some fresh air will do you some good?” Taehyung suggested. He began to snake both of his arms around you, constricting you in a tight embrace. 

“If I were to agree to go outside, where would I go?” Your voice cracked from Taehyung’s tight hug. “Maybe to walk to that new sushi restaurant that just opened up by our place? With your favorite roommate?” You snorted at him and pushed his arms off of you. “

I guess my mind would appreciate a nice dinner break.” You hummed in pleasure. “Let’s go, then! I’ve been dying to take you ever since they opened last week!” 

You were shocked to hear that. “You were waiting to take me?” Taehyung affirmed by nodding his head. “Oh!” You laughed nervously. “Well, let me go ahead and quickly change into something suitable for our sushi adventure!” 

You ran off to your room and changed out of your comfortable hoodie and sweats and transformed into a nice jean mini skirt, oversized sweater vest and into a pair of black loafers. 

“Honestly, you mentioning sushi has my stomach already growling like crazy.” Taehyung chuckled at you. “Come on, let’s go.” 

As you both walked down the street together, you began to observe the beautiful city that engulfs you. The high-rise apartments, the hustle and bustle of the college town you grew to love living in. Being outside was enough to reduce the inner stress you had going on; the essay, the upcoming exams, and…the unfortunate heartache of Jungkook being on a date with someone. You’ve realized that the feelings you harbor for him were a lot harder to let go than you thought it would’ve. At first when it was just a little highschool crush, you were able to like him from afar. It was more of a physical, vain crush. However, you live with him. You have gotten closer to him in a more intimate way compared to the high school crush. Yes, he’s still an asshole to you. Yes, he’s closed off and doesn’t seem interested in getting to know you past as being his roommate. It hurts. And you’re trying to let go, you really are. What else can you do to help yourself get over him quickly? 

“We’re here.” Taehyung brought you out of your endless thoughts. He held the door open for you as you entered the sushi restaurant. The scent of the raw fish, ramen broth, and cooked rice infiltrate your nostrils. “God, it smells amazing here.” Taehyung chuckled at you admiring the restaurant. “Hopefully the food is just as good.” 

“Hello, for many?” The hostess asked. “For two, please.” Taehyung answered. “Follow me.” 

As the hostess led you and Taehyung to your tables, you hesitantly stared at Taehyung as discreetly as you could. Suddenly, you could hear Hoseok’s voice in your head, remembering all the nonsense he would say to you about Taehyung.

“How haven’t you hooked up with him yet? He’s so good looking!” 

“Taehyung seems to care about you a lot”

“You guys are practically Han and Anna from Frozen; always finishing each other’s sentences and getting excited over the littlest things and you both enjoy each other’s company like crazy.”

And then you remembered what Chaeyoung said from a previous phone call,

“___, you’re telling me that you’re just friends with a beautiful man like that?”

Some of your closest friends kept pushing you to get with Taehyung and you just never saw him that way. But why? They were right; Taehyung is good looking, he does care about you, and you guys get along extremely well together. Did you just not allow yourself to see Taehyung past friends for the sake of your feelings for Jungkook? Admittedly, if you had met Taehyung first, he would be the one high school-you would’ve been crushing over. Taehyung is kind hearted, mature, he is beyond artistically intelligent, he cares for others and financially provides for Jungkook. You looked up to him in so many ways, he inspires you to be a better version of yourself. So, why didn’t you find yourself romantically attracted to Taehyung? 

Taehyung pulled the chair out for you. “Why thank you.” You giggled. “Absolutely.” 

The hostess leaves you both with the silverware and menus. “What sounds good to you?” Taehyung asked as he scanned the menu. 

“You.” You smile.

Taehyung chokes on air. You slightly chuckle at his cute reaction and hide yourself in the menu. “How unexpected of you to say, y/n.” He blushes. “I don’t know where that came from, honestly.” 

“Neither do I.” Taehyung blushes as well. You could feel your chest tighten at the adorable sight of Taehyung looking shy and awkward. “You look cute when you blush.” You admit. You wanted to see him blush harder and so he did. Taehyung bursted out a nervous laugh and pressed his palms against his cheeks. “You’re making my cheeks burn, y/n.” His box-like smile appears. 

“Okay, I’m done..for now.” You give him a reassuring smile and look down at your lap. You honestly don’t know where the sudden flirting came from. You meant in a playful friendly way however you didn’t seem to mind if Taehyung was to take your flirting seriously. Which he didn’t really seem to since he was laughing and smiling along with you. 

The thing with Taehyung was that he had an incredibly comfortable aura to him. You felt safe with him, you felt at ease. Maybe that was something you were looking for in an amicable way? You had your two childhood best friends abroad, living their own lives. Sure, you had Hoseok, however he is a busy individual and is often spending his free time with his boyfriend, as he should. You felt lonely and your heart was yearning for someone to confide in, hang with, be yourself with. Taehyung simply checked all those boxes. For now, you had settled with the fact that Taehyung was who you needed for amicable and sanity reasons. Any other feelings would come naturally if it was meant to be for.

Your server approached you and Taehyung and offered you both water and if you guys were ready to order. After ordering your choice of dishes, you were back in a comfortable silence. “Tell me how your week has been going.” Taehyung asks, taking a sip of his water right after. “Mm…not much honestly. Just been going to classes, studying. Nothing interesting.” 

“What do you mean ‘nothing interesting’, didn’t you have a date earlier this week with that guy from the party?” Taehyung brought up Namjoon. Your face dropped in annoyance at the memory of him ghosting you so suddenly. Especially when he seemed so interested in you from that night. “Let’s just say that the date didn’t happen. He kind of…ghosted me.” You admit, biting your lip from remembering how embarrassing it was. Taehyung’s eyes widened. “He what?” You nodded, validating his disbelief. 

“Yeah, believe me I was in shock too. I have no idea what I did.” Taehyung scoffed at you. “I could bet you a million dollars that it wasn’t anything that you did; it was just Namjoon being the typical frat boy slash fuck boy that he is. He’s a dickhead and I don’t know why I encouraged him to ask you out.” Taehyung spat. “You encouraged it?” You asked in shock. “Yeah, he kept asking Jimin and I if you were single and if it was alright for him to ask you out, since he knew you were our friend.” Taehyung could feel the warmth of anger in his chest as he spilled out what had happened at the party.

You responded with silence. Namjoon’s sudden rejection hurts less now however Taehyung’s anger made you feel slightly guilty. Not because you thought you did anything wrong but because you didn’t want to be a reason as to why Taehyung would hold anger against a good friend of his. Taehyung tried to read your expression. He could tell you had some guilt mixed with embarrassment. “Are you okay?” He asked. He leaned and tried to attempt to reach for your hand but he went against doing so. 

You nodded and tried to give him a reassuring smile. “I’m okay. I was able to get over it well.” Taehyung let out a sigh of relief. “It’s his loss.” 

You chuckled softly at that. “His loss, indeed.” Taehyung leaned back against his chair and was trying to read your expression again. He could tell you didn’t want to continue talking about this and so he changed topics. “Well, are you interested in anyone else?” You choked on a little water and gently coughed. 

“Geez, Tae. Nice change of topics.” You laughed awkwardly. Taehyung shrugged it off and smirked at you. “I’m just in my gossip era.” You rolled your eyes at him and dabbed some water from the corner of your lips with a napkin. “Uh, no. I’m not interested in anyone. I’m trying to enjoy my single life.” You answered. Taehyung could only nod at that. Of course he wasn’t expecting much of an answer from you. He knows you’ve been through a lot with Jungkook and now with Namjoon. He just wanted reassurance that there wasn’t any…competition in his way. 

Actually, he wanted to double check if Jungkook was no longer an option for you. “So…anything going on with you and Jungkook?” He asked again. Your eyes widened at his abrupt question. You didn’t expect him to suddenly mention his brother out of nowhere. “Taehyung..” You started off. He locked his dark brown eyes with yours, not afraid of how intrusive his question was. He was set on trying to get you to see how he feels for you one way or another. 

“Uhm..” You hesitated. “I mean there was always nothing going on between us. However, if you meant to ask about my previous feelings for him then…I don’t think I like him that way anymore. I see him as just an acquaintance and roommate. I’m sure the same goes for him. And…yeah.” You finished. Again, Taehyung was trying to read your expression, your tone, your body language. From the way you didn’t look directly into his eyes when you answered, the way you fiddled with your fingers, the way you chewed on your bottom lip when you were thinking of your response, and the way your voice sounded defeated, as if you had lost something you didn’t want to lose, was enough for Taehyung to know the true answer lying underneath your surface.

You were lying. 

You still harbored feelings for his brother. You don’t see him as just an acquaintance and roommate. He doesn’t know what you see Jungkook as but it is certainly not as platonic as you’re making it seem. He could feel his chest throb in pain slightly at the realization. Taehyung had no idea if Jungkook’s feelings towards you were mutual or not because he never seemed to care to notice or study the way Jungkook was around you. He was certain that Jungkook most likely saw you in a platonic way. From what he knows of, the two of you don’t spend a lot of time together. Nor do you both talk to each other one-on-one a lot. Taehyung thinks that the kind of relationship you and Jungkook have is currently a contractual mutualistic relationship: you guys are supposed to just put up with each other’s antics and that was that. 

“I see.” He forced a smile onto his face. “Are you comfortable living with us three guys still?” You laughed at his question and nodded. “Of course. I love you guys.” 

Taehyung leaned forward to you again and this time, he actually reached his hand out to yours. You gladly gave your hand to him to hold. “I couldn’t have chosen a better roommate to deal with our bullshit. We love you too, y/n.” Your heart glowed at Taehyung’s sentimental confession. “Awe, Tae..” You cooed softly. 

“Okay, I have one family-sized sushi boat and your sides for the lovely couple here.” Your server interrupted and placed a large wooden boat of the gorgeous raw fish onto your table. You and Taehyung gave each other a look and snorted at the ‘couple’ remark. However, you indirectly agreed to go along with it. You figured that couples usually receive free dessert at the end of the dinner either way. “Let’s dig in, shall we?” You eagerly smiled at Taehyung. He returned the gleeful expression and the two of you pigged out together. 

. . .

How can a 115-minute movie suddenly feel like an eight hour shift? 

Jungkook was feeling incredibly bored out of his mind as he watched the sci-fi movie that Yeri had picked out for them. He looked over at you and could tell that she was very into the movie. Her eyes were locked onto the film and was mindlessly chomping down the bucket of popcorn she was hoarding. Jungkook wanted to melt like the butter on the popcorn and slither his ass out of the theater. 

He would rather spend 115 minutes walking barefoot on the asphalt in the middle of the summer than be here on this date he didn’t want to go on. Jungkook had tried to give Yeri a chance to redeem herself but she just wasn’t…interesting. Nothing about her was intriguing to Jungkook. He asked her questions to attempt to get to know her. She’s in college studying to be an actress, she’s a part time pilates instructor at a nearby gym, she’s also a full-time content creator on YouTube and likes to make makeup tutorials and skincare videos. She likes horror and sci-fi movies but Jungkook prefers rom-coms. She likes to spend her free time outside in the city and bar hopping with friends, meanwhile Jungkook prefers staying in and isolating himself in his room. She doesn’t like to fraternize with anyone that isn’t wealthy, socially popular, good-looking, or just anyone that isn’t similar to her lifestyle and interests. She’s shallow and vain and Jungkook wasn’t vibing with that. 

When Yeri told him about her close friend circle, it raised a huge red flag for Jungkook. He was familiar with her groupie. They were all influencers that posted beauty and fashion content, only dating within their wealth level and socialite class. They would still talk bad about other students on campus as if they were still stuck in their high school bully era. After getting to know all this about Yeri, Jungkook was quite ready to ghost her as soon as the movie ended. 

All of a sudden, a jumpscare happened on the screen, causing half of the theater to scream and throw their popcorn in the air. Yeri was one of the few who screamed and instinctually clenched her arms around Jungkook’s. 

“That was so scary, Jungkook.” Yeri pouted and buried her head into his arms. Jungkook responded by rolling his eyes but didn’t mind letting Yeri borrow his arms for a bit. He looked around the theater to see what appeared to be other dates, and the women were grabbing onto their dates like Yeri was. He grew to be even more annoyed with Yeri. He didn’t like how typical she was. She was like every other girl. Nothing special about her. It’s harsh but true, according to Jungkook. 

He suddenly found himself comparing Yeri to you. Would you react the same way Yeri did? Would you hold onto him during a scary scene? Jungkook can confidently say that the answer was no. 

You wouldn’t react the same way. You wouldn’t hold onto him. No, you would be asleep halfway through the movie and the jumpscare would awaken you from your slumber, and you would jump and scream obnoxiously. You would spill whatever food was on your lap and you would most likely run away from the room. Had you been watching the movie in the comfort of your apartment, instead of running away from the room you would just turn the movie off and change the mood by making an unfunny joke to ease up the tension. That’s what you would do. And for some reason, Jungkook found himself smiling and quietly laughing at the imagination he created in his head. 

Yeri could hear Jungkook chuckling to himself and gave him a concerned look. “Jungkook? Why are you laughing? The main character’s best friend just died?” 

Jungkook immediately shut up and cleared his throat. “I just thought of something funny.” He answered. Yeri curled an eyebrow up. “What were you thinking about?” She whispered. Jungkook shook his head. “It’s nothing. It’s just that this scene reminded me of an inside joke between me and a friend.” He lied. Yeri just nodded understandably and refocused her attention back to the movie. 

Jungkook allowed another smile and a snort to escape from his lips before making himself regain his attention back to the “heartbreaking” scene of the death of the best friend. 

. . .

“I had fun tonight, Jungkook.” Yeri shyly smiles at him. Jungkook forced a smile onto his face. “I’m glad. I had fun too.” He lies. “Thank you for walking me home.” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “Not a problem.” He replies dryly. Yeri stops at a large modern looking building. “This is my dorm building.” Jungkook nods in response. “Goodnight, Kook.” Jungkook tried his hardest not to physically cringe at the nickname she decided to give him. He managed to wave at her. “Goodnight, Yeri.” He began to turn around to walk to his apartment but Yeri called out to him and ran to grab his jacket. “Wait,” 

“Hm?” 

“Do you want to do this again sometime soon? Maybe next week?” She bit her lower lip in anticipation. Jungkook could see a shimmer of hope and a dash of nervousness in her eyes. He genuinely did not know what Yeri saw him and why she still wanted to continue seeing him. He tried his hardest to remain stoic and dry with her to show his lack of interest but she wasn’t getting the hint. He tried to think of a good response that will give a hint of rejection without straight up saying so. 

“I’ll see. I have a lot of exams coming up so I’ll let you know when is a good time to meet up again.” Jungkook answered. Yeri remained quiet for a moment before nodding in agreement. “Okay, sure! Text me when you make it home safely!” She waved at him. Jungkook smirked. “I only live about five minutes walking distance from here. I’ll be okay.” 

Yeri chuckled, “Alright, fine. But let me know when you’re free again!” She reminded him. Jungkook simply nodded and began to trail away from Yeri. “Bye Jungkook!” She unnecessarily yelled out. He was only a few feet away. He gave an awkward smile and waved back at her, and began to speed walk. 

His speed walking shortened the walking distance by half and he was able to make it home comfortably. He entered the apartment and was met with the sound of laughter and the smell of alcohol. He took off his shoes, slid his feet into his house slippers and headed into the living room. He saw you, Taehyung, and Jimin sitting in a circle. It seemed as if the three of you were just talking and spending time together. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of FOMO. He would much rather have spent his night like this than be out on a date with a random girl.

“Hey, Kook is home! Where were you tonight, young man?” Taehyung slurred. “Uh, I was just out with Yoongi.” He chuckled nervously. He shared a quick glance with you, and you gave him a reassured look; a look that said he was okay and that no one knew of the date. 

“You need to stop hanging out with Yoongi and hang out more with your brothers and y/n.” Jimin slurred out, taking a quick swig of soju. Jungkook shared another glance with you. He looked confused. “Why are they drinking?” He asked. “Jimin begged Taehyung to share a drink with him and well…one drink turned into many. I’ve just been here giving them company.” 

“Jungkook! Come have a shot of soju with us!” Jimin patted on the ground for him to sit. “Uh, I think I’m just going to call it a night. I’ve had a long da-,” Jungkook got interrupted by Taehyung’s loud groan. “Oh my god, we don’t care, come over and sit with us now.” 

Jungkook squinted his eyes at his brother in annoyance. You stifled back a laugh at this interaction. “You’re taking a shot with us too, miss y/n.” Taehyung targeted you. You gave him the exact same annoyed look that Jungkook had given him. Regardless, Jungkook listened to his two seniors and sat where Jimin had patted him to sit in. He sat between you and Jimin. 

You scooted your body away from Jungkook little by little. “Now, take a shot.” Jimin slammed the shot glass onto the coffee table. “Here’s your shot glass too, y/n.” Jimin handed yours. Taehyung administered the pouring of the shots to you and Jungkook. You both turned to each other hesitantly. “I just wanted to give them company.” you whispered to Jungkook. “And I just wanted to go to bed.” He whispered back. “I’ll take my shot if you take yours.” You suggested. Jungkook just sighed in response. “There’s no such thing as saying no to these two.” He groaned. You both tapped your shot glasses onto the table and then threw the alcohol down your throats, earning a loud sound of approval from the two best friends. 

“Let’s go! All of the roomies are getting fucked up tonight!” Jimin yelled. “Uh, I’m just going to take this one shot with you guys. I still have that paper to write and I have class tomorrow morning.” You halted the two boys from encouraging drunkenness from you. 

“Me too. I have an eight AM class.” Jungkook added. Jimin rolled his eyes at you both and some fingers through his dark locks. “You goddamn scholars.” He cursed under his breath. “Do you work tomorrow?” You asked Taehyung. “Nope. I’m off from work and I have a late afternoon class so I get to sleep in!” He and Jimin dapped each other up, earning a scoff from Jungkook. 

“Hey, by the way, where were you guys earlier today? I came home and the apartment was silent.” Jimin asked you and Taehyung. “Oh, Tae took me out to try the new sushi place that opened up in town! You guys seriously should go sometime soon, it was so delicious.” You were bouncing in excitement as you bragged about the restaurant. “Oh, and if you want free dessert, you should go with a girl. Our server thought that ___ and I were a couple and they gave us a slice of tiramisu cake.” Taehyung looked over at you and you both laughed at the memory. 

Jungkook darted his eyes between you and his brother. “He thought that you both were a couple?” Jimin repeated back, laughing along. “I know right.” You cackled. Jungkook remained silent as three of you guys laughed. He began to glance at the way Taehyung looked at you. Lately, he has been picking up way too many weird signs from Taehyung when it comes to you. 

Logically, if Jungkook could sense that his brother was acting differently around a certain girl then he would conclude that he is interested in her but Jungkook couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of Taehyung being interested in you. Not that there was anything wrong with you, it was just that he didn’t think of you being the type to sway Taehyung. Jungkook simply thought you two were not romantically compatible. Jungkook may not know you that well but he certainly knows his brother. 

“Taehyung, let’s go take a smoke outside real quick.” Jimin stands up from the floor and massages his butt. “Fuck, my ass is so sore.” He mumbled. Taehyung got up and was beginning to follow Jimin from behind until he took a quick glance at you and Jungkook sitting together. He felt a small ache in his chest from the thought of leaving you two alone. Especially with him knowing that you very much still had some feelings left for Jungkook. They’ll be alright. 

Taehyung and Jimin go out to the balcony and shut the door behind them. “Since when did Taehyung smoke?” You ask Jungkook. “He occasionally smokes whenever he’s drunk. But I’ve seen him smoke out of stress too. He just does it when he feels like it.” 

“Ah, I see. I’m kinda like that too.” You chuckle. Jungkook snapped his head towards you and gaped his mouth open in surprise. “I wouldn’t take you as the type to smoke.” He curled his lips up at your confession. “It’s my little personal secret. I’ve been smoking since I was 16.” 

Intrigued by this, Jungkook leans his body back, using his wrists to hold him up. “Now what caused 16-year old you to pick up cigarettes?” 

You smirked at him. “My parents were going through a rough patch together. They were literally on the brink of divorce and kept dragging me into their problems. It was way too much stress for me to harbor as a high schooler that was also dealing with pounds of homework and exams every week. Luckily, they were able to work things out because they went to counseling but as of today, I like to puff puff a little bit sometimes to relieve some stress.” 

Jungkook nodded understandably. He had no idea that you had gone through some family hardships as well. “I see,” 

“So I’m the only one that knows this secret of yours?” You nodded. A part of him was a little pleased that he was the only one who knew.  

“I’ve never tried it before.” He says out of the blue. The two of you shared eye contact at that. You were quizzically checking him out, wondering if he was hinting something. “Well, I suggest you not to do it. Once you try it a few times, there’s no going back.” 

Jungkook had an idea but it was an extremely bizarre one. He didn’t know where the idea came from or why it was created. But he was amused at the thought of it and didn’t mind encouraging the idea to blossom. “You could do it with me. Just once wouldn’t hurt.” He suggested but it came out more as a question.

Your eyes popped open. “What?” 

Bashfully, Jungkook looked away. “Nevermind.” 

“Wait, no! I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just surprised that you would consider doing it with me. I mean…”

Jungkook made eye contact with you again. “If I was to try a cigarette for the first time, you’re one of the people I’d be okay with trying it with. I’d be okay if I was to do it with Jimin or Taehyung too. You’re my roommate, so I kind of trust you too.” 

You nervously looked away and had to release an exhale that was being clogged inside of you. “Oh, sure! Of course, I get it. I trust you three as well.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. By Jungkook admitting that he would want to experience something, anything with you meant that he was admitting that he felt comfortable with you. That he trusted you. Despite your history together, you didn’t think that Jungkook would carry intimate feelings of trust and comfort around you. Was it because he sees you as more than “just a roommate”? He sees you as something more? Like a friend? 

“Let me know when you would want to do so.” You said. Jungkook nodded. “Sure.” A slight comfortable silence fell upon you two. “Do you want to take another shot?” You asked. Jungkook thought about it before he agreed. “It’s not like they’ll know we took another one.” 

“But this is actually my last one. After four or five shots, I’m done.” You warned. “Four or five? You’re such a lightweight.” Jungkook teased. “How many shots does it take for you to get wasted?” 

Jungkook calculated in his head for a moment. Taehyung used to throw parties whenever their parents were out of town back when he was in eighth grade so they’ve both had a bit of experience with alcohol. “I’d say around ten is when I’m beginning to feel a buzz.” Your mouth dropped. “Ten? For a buzz? That’s borderline alcoholic.” Jungkook smirked at that. “Yeah, well when you’ve been drinking for as long as Taehyung and I have then you’d know.” “Well then tell me how long you’ve both been drinking for.” 

“Since I was thirteen. For Taehyung, since he was fifteen.” 

“Thirteen? Fifteen? That’s insane.” 

He shrugged. “Well, our parents were barely around to notice. If they were around, I doubt that they’d care.” You gave him a sympathetic smile. “Also, we went to a rich private school so a bunch of kids like us began drinking at an early age. It was the privilege and the fact that almost all of our parents were wealthy assholes that didn’t give a fuck about us.” You groaned at Jungkook. “You’re being such a downer. You’re making me sad.” You whined. Jungkook let out a chuckle and ran fingers through his hair. “Alright, I’ll stop ambushing you with my depressive lore.” You both laughed together. 

You liked this. You liked being able to be civil with Jungkook and laugh about things together. You liked whatever kind of moment was happening between you both. 

You hesitated on whether or not you should bring up his date. You didn’t want him seeing that you cared to know about every single detail that happened tonight and you didn’t want him seeing that you were a little bit jealous too. 

Suddenly, Jungkook’s phone buzzed. He reached his hand into his pockets and brought the phone out. It was an Instagram notification from Yeri’s account. He clicked on the notification and saw that she had tagged Jungkook onto her story and posted a picture of their two drinks and the singular bucket of popcorn and she had captioned it with a heart. 

Jungkook let out the most irritated groan of his life. How did she even find his Instagram account? He never followed her and she never followed him? His username was very discreet, it did not explicitly say his name. It was actually an extremely long username: @abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz.

“What’s wrong?” You asked as you finally took your second shot. “Nothing.” He mumbled. “What? Tell me.” You edged. 

Jungkook debated on telling you. He didn’t know if you would be a good confidante for this certain situation for many obvious reasons. However, you both agreed to remain just friends right? A civil relationship with each other? Once he had decided on telling you, the patio door opened and Jimin and Taehyung stumbled back inside the living room. 

He gave you an apologetic look. Maybe you didn’t need to know and it was the universe telling him so. 

Taehyung took a quick glance at you. You looked annoyed. Not at Jungkook, not at Jimin, and not at himself. It seemed as if you were annoyed with yourself. You were looking down at the ground and picking at the rug on the floor. “Are you okay?” Taehyung asked, placing a hand on your knee. 

Jungkook and Jimin peer over at this, with Jimin smirking to himself and Jungkook keeping his eyes glued to his brother’s hand. You fixed Taehyung with a brief smile and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just going to call it a night, I’m getting tired.” You fake-yawn. Taehyung nodded understandably and withdrew his hand from your knee. You get up and stretch. “Goodnight guys.” You wave to the three roommates and begin to drag yourself to your bedroom. 

Jungkook watches you as you disappear into the doors of your room. He could tell that you weren’t being truthful with the way you quickly came up with an excuse. You didn’t appear to be sleepy a minute ago. He didn’t want to stay and hang out with Jimin and Taehyung alone for the rest of the night. He knew that they would pressure him to drink more and he would eventually oversleep his classes, his job, and it was also a weekday. There was no need to be drunk this early into the week. “Be right back.” He muttered to Jimin and Taehyung. Jimin watched Jungkook leaving. He didn’t think too much into it. He turned his attention to Taehyung.

“I saw you placing your hand on ___’s knee earlier.” He cheesed. Taehyung groaned a jumble of words that Jimin couldn’t comprehend for the life of him. “I didn’t understand a single word you just said.” Jimin laughed. “Sorry, it’s just all those shots we took back to back that are catching up to me now. Everything’s spinning. All I can think about is ___. Where is she? Is she here? Does she know?” Taehyung rubbed his hands all over his face as an attempt to get himself together. 

Jimin laughed even harder. “You’re a mess. She’s not here, it’s just you and me. Keep your voice down.” He chuckled. “Since when did your tolerance get better than mines? Fuck, I’m so out of it.” Taehyung groaned even louder. “Where did Jungkook go?” Taehyung asked. Jimin looked towards his bedroom door, which was where he assumed Jungkook went. “Probably went to bed. He said he’d be right back but you know he didn’t want to hang. He’s spiritually an old man.” 

“Does ___ know?” Taehyung mumbles again. “Know about what?” Jimin scooted closer to him. 

Jungkook opened the door of his bedroom and was heading towards the bathroom until he heard Taehyung’s constant repetition of “does ___ know?”. He stopped in his tracks, and stood right outside of the bathroom door. There was a wall blocking and separating the living room from the hallway that contains the bathroom and the bedrooms, therefore Jungkook couldn’t be seen from where he was. 

“Just say yes or no, Jimin.” “Taehyung, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Be specific.” 

Taehyung let out an irritated groan. “About you-know-what. About me. About me and her.” 

Jimin shushed him, in case either Jungkook or you could hear. “No, man. No one knows except me. I’m the only one. No one will ever know between us two.” 

Taehyung’s drunken eyes looked up to meet with Jimin’s exasperated expression. “You promise?” He slurred. “I promise.” Taehyung smiled in satisfaction. “I’m sorry for being a mess right now.” 

Jimin snorted. “You’re always a mess.” “Says the one who is a college dropout and is crashing at their best friend’s place.” The two of them laughed together. Jungkook remained where he was, in confusion. What was Taehyung talking about? What was going on between you and him that you didn’t know about? That he didn't know about? 

“Should we go to bed?” Jungkook heard Jimin asking Taehyung. Without hesitation or thinking, Jungkook ran back to his bedroom, no longer needing to urinate. He heard the shuffling of their feets dragging on the floor. Jimin put Taehyung to sleep and walked back to the living room.

. . .

It was a week into Christmas break when Taehyung had the idea for the group to go ice skating. “The place is open until 10. We can get food from the convenience store afterwards. Come on, it’s only 6:30, we have time to get ready!” He eagerly said. You sipped your peppermint tea and thought about it. “I mean, I haven’t properly enjoyed myself ever since the semester ended. I’ve been rotting in bed ever since I submitted my last final. I’m down!” You agreed.

Taehyung smiled at you and then turned his head towards Jimin and Jungkook. “I’m down too. I have nothing better to do tonight.” Jimin said. “Why is it that it’s down to you for the last vote? Why do you always have to be such a grandpa?” Taehyung pestered his brother. Jungkook couldn’t hide the smile that crept to his face. “This grandpa was planning to go on a jog before dinner and bed.” He ran a finger through his now silky dark brown hair. He dyed it dark brown last week after feeling like he needed a change with his appearance. 

“Well now you can spend it with ice skating instead. Come on, you can even bring Yeri with you! You two have been inseparable ever since she came over for our Thanksgiving dinner.” 

You couldn’t help but to shudder at the mention of her name. You didn’t expect for Jungkook to continue dating her after the movie date but he is. She’s been coming over to the apartment almost every single day. Your bedroom was right next door to Jungkook’s and you could hear her giggles, their conversations, their snores when they slept. It was as if you were given a sneak peek as to what hell must feel like. 

Jungkook looked down at his phone and opened his text messages with Yeri. She had been begging to hangout today and do something. She was texting him nonstop and kept mentioning how bored she was and how she missed him as if they didn’t see each other less than 24 hours ago. Having a girl like Yeri by his side was tiresome. He knew that he'd rather go ice-skating and bring Yeri than have to hear her blowing up his phone with whines and complaints of wanting to do something throughout his peaceful jog, his peaceful dinner, and his peaceful bedtime. 

“Sure.” He said. Taehyung smiled, in shock seeing that he actually agreed. He thought that having Yeri in his life was causing him to become more social. “Let’s leave around 7.” 

Jimin immediately got up to get ready with you following behind. Taehyung looked at Jungkook and smirked. “I see Yeri has your shell opening up. I like that.” Jungkook rolled his eyes. “She isn’t opening my shell. I just feel like ice-skating.” Taehyung shrugged. “You’re still going out more ever since you started dating her.” 

Jungkook didn’t care to explain anything to him. He doesn’t know what goes on in his mind and what goes on between him and Yeri. He doesn’t need to know that they only have a sexual relationship and that Jungkook doesn’t harbor an ounce of romantic feelings towards her. He doesn’t need to know that Yeri is in a one-sided situationship with him. Taehyung doesn’t need to know anything. 

“If you think so.” He bites the inside of his cheek and stands up. “I’m gonna get ready.” He walks past Taehyung and texts Yeri to get ready. 

Why do I feel like I will never be able to understand him, Taehyung thinks.

. . .

You fell on your ass for what felt like the fiftieth time. “I can’t fucking skate!” You cried out, holding back a laugh. Jimin skated towards you and reached his hands out to pick you up. “Why do you keep falling? Stop embarrassing us.” Jimin teased, causing your laugh to burst out of you. “I’m trying!” 

You were having a great time. Seeing families, friends, couples being together made you sonder with happiness. Something about being able to be silly and kid-like without embarrassment made yourself feel as if you were on cloud nine. 

You attempted to continue skating after Jimin had helped you get up. Each time you attempted, it got easier for you. You didn’t mind falling, you liked the “trial and error”-ness. You looked ahead and saw Jimin and Taehyung holding hands and skating together. You giggled at them. Seeing the two having fun together made you miss Jihyo and Chaeyoung. Every winter break, the three of you would ice skate, sled, drink hot chocolates, bake cookies together, and rewatch all your favorite holiday movies. You spent more than half of your life with them and this was the longest you have been apart and with minimal contact too with the time difference and busyness. 

You knew that Chaeyoung was coming home in less than two days and Jihyo would arrive the day after to spend Christmas with their families. No plans were fully confirmed since they would also be busy during their holiday break with their family. Your prior blissful mood transitioned into disappointment. 

You decided to attempt to catch up with Jimin and Taehyung to get your mind off of your dear friends. You attempted to skate faster and successfully did so. 

Taehyung felt you bump against his back. “___!” He reached an arm backward to pull you from his behind and place you next to him. “You got better at skating.” He complimented. “I think I got the hang of it this time. I always remember during the season but then once winter is over, it’s like I get rusty for a bit.” Taehyung nodded understandably. 

You heard a loud giggle coming from behind you. You turned to check quickly but was met with the sight of Yeri and Jungkook skating together. He was holding her hand to keep her steady but her legs were wobbling like crazy. “I can’t do it, Kookie!” She yelped out. You internally cringed at the nickname she gave him. You also internally winced at the inevitable heartache seeing him like that. Seemingly happy with the small smile that curled up on his usual inexpressible face. 

He looked happy. He looked like he was enjoying himself for once. You studied his smile to question whether it was genuine or not. You felt terrible wishing for the latter. He deserved happiness. He deserved to be with someone that made him feel out of the world. He deserved good things and good people in his life, despite all the shit he emotionally burdened you with. 

You hoped that his relationship with Yeri would eventually cure you with the hopeless crush you still held onto him. You forced yourself to look away after what felt like an eternity watching them. 

What you didn’t notice was that Taehyung was watching you watching them. He noticed the hurt that was gleaming in your eyes. The yearning, the pain was written all over you. He was so pleased with Jungkook putting himself out there that he forgot to take account of your feelings towards them. He didn’t want your mood to be sour for the rest of the night, he wanted you to have fun. He wanted to see you happy. 

“Hey you.” Taehyung nudged. You looked up to meet his eyes. “Wanna race?” He suggested, raising his brows. You smiled and nodded. “From where to where?”

Taehyung hummed, calculating where to end. “Let’s stop at the exit door. Loser buys the winner hot chocolate.” He pointed at the hot chocolate stand that was just outside of the rink. “On the count of three.” You say. 

“One,” You start

“Two,” Taehyung continues

“Three” You shout. Taehyung is already speeding ahead of you, causing you to shout curse words at him. He laughed and looked behind to see you failing to catch up. 

“Is that Taehyung and your roommate racing each other?” Yeri asked Jungkook. Jungkook turned his head to where he could hear the commotion going on between you two. You had a beaming grin on your face and was attempting to pull Taehyung backwards to make him lose the race. Taehyung’s box-shaped grin was plastered onto his face and he was giggling non-stop. “___, you’re cheating!” He laughed hard. 

Jungkook couldn’t look away. He didn’t know why or what was making him not want to look away but he felt as if his eyes were glued onto you and Taehyung. He felt that same uncomfortable feeling washing through him. He felt a knot forming in his stomach and a sense of unease at the same time. Jungkook couldn’t comprehend for the life of him as to why he couldn't shake the unexpected pang of–whatever it was that he was feeling– away. 

Yeri eyed Jungkook as he watched you and Taehyung racing. She noticed the way his jaw was slightly clenched and the way his hand that was gripping onto her arm to help her skate was tightening around her. “Jungkook?” She nudged him. His attention resumed back to her. He tried his best to give her a smile. “Hm?” He said. 

“You okay?” She asked. “Yeah, I was just looking at them racing. Seems silly to race on ice. They could get hurt.” He lied. She only nodded, not knowing what else to say. She looked over at you and Taehyung again and caught sight of you both already off the rink, and were removing your skates. 

Taehyung reached for your hand and dragged you to the hot chocolate and pastry stand that was outside of the rink. 

“Don’t you think they could be cute together?” Yeri asked Jungkook with a playful smile on her face. Jungkook couldn’t help but to scoff out loud at that. “She’s not Taehyung’s type.” He clarified. Yeri gave him a confused glare. “What do you mean? She’s pretty. And they seem to get along well.” Yeri explained. She studied his face again but she couldn’t make anything out of it. It seemed as if he was in deep thought yet at the same time it looked like he didn’t care about the topic. His stare was completely blank yet it could be interpreted in many different ways. 

“You don’t know Taehyung like I do.” He defended. Yeri decided to leave the conversation at that. “Wanna get hot chocolate too?” She asked, looking at him with pleading eyes. Jungkook shook his head. “Not in the mood.” He said dryly. 

He felt bad being suddenly passive-aggressive towards her. He didn’t understand why he was being like this either. “Let’s sit for a bit.” He began to hold Yeri’s hand and pulled her to the benches. 

Yeri begins to scroll on her phone meanwhile Jungkook’s eyes automatically drag itself to observe you and Taehyung again. The two of you were sitting on a bench across from them. You were showing him something on your phone. Whatever it was that you were showing, he was laughing at it. His laugh was contagious and it made you laugh harder. “I was dying at that video for a good hour yesterday.” You breathed out, trying to catch your breath. “Send that to me, send that to me.” Taehyung said. 

Jungkook didn’t miss that Taehyung was slowly attempting to scoot closer to you, to the point where your left knee and his right knee were practically touching and your shoulders were a good millimeter apart. “Oo, let’s take a picture to post on my story!” You squealed. You hold your phone out and Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to close the minimal space that was between. He presses his cheek against yours and poses with his eyes squeezed shut and a peace sign held next to the other cheek.

You beam at him and post the story. “You look so cute!” You squeal again. Jungkook couldn't help but to laugh to himself at the sight that was in front of him. He was in denial for the longest but he admits now that Taehyung was indeed attempting to flirt with you. He knows his flirtatious tricks and anyone with a human brain can comprehend that he is blatantly flirting with you. He knows you’re too oblivious to this because you are an oblivious person in general. Jungkook knows you’re too naive to understand that Taehyung was being a little too touchy for someone he considers to be “just a friend”. 

Just because Taehyung was flirting with you doesn’t confirm that he’s doing it out of a genuine romantic interest, Jungkook thinks. It could be because he is simply in a flirty mood or maybe he just wants to see if you would fold for him like how other girls do. That's what the old player Taehyung would do. 

Jimin interrupts Jungkook’s thoughts and plops down next to him. “Are you ready to go? I’m starving.” Jimin sighed out. He reeked of cigarettes. “You’re smoking too often.” Jungkook lectured him. “I got nothing better to do with myself. I’m in my flop era or whatever the kids say these days.” He runs a finger through his hair. Jungkook chuckled at him. “I think you’re doing whatever you can to cope.” Jungkook comforts. “I’m ready if they’re ready.” Jungkook nudges his chin toward you and Taehyung that were still in the middle of a deep conversation, probably not even noticing Jimin and Jungkook right in front of them. 

Jimin chuckles and sighs in amusement. “They’re so silly together.” Jimin mumbles under his breath but Jungkook picks it up. Jimin searches for a piece of gum in his pockets. He shoves a piece into his mouth and throws the wrapper to Taehyung’s head, getting your attention. “Let’s go eat.” Jimin shouts. Taehyung looks at you, inverbally asking if you are good to go. You nod in agreement. “Convenience store right?” Taehyung confirms.

“Yes!” Jimin jumps. Yeri checks out Jimin walking towards you and starts to poke your body, just to tease you. Taehyung joins along and starts to pull onto some strands of your hair. You attempt to shove the boys off and fall into a fit of laughter. Yeri couldn’t help but feel jealous seeing how well you got along with them. Yeri was aware that Jimin and Taehyung were extremely close to Jungkook and desperately wanted to get close with them, as a way to make herself feel accepted into his circle. 

The three of you were already walking ahead, leaving you and Jungkook behind. Jungkook was just staring at the bench where you and Taehyung were sitting a second ago. “Let’s go, Kookie.” Yeri nudges him. He simply nods and stands up. “Sure.” He walks ahead, leaving Yeri alone. 

She grew irritated with Jungkook. A while ago, Jungkook was being gentlemanly with her and was seemingly having a good time with her. She doesn’t understand what suddenly went wrong with him for him to be so cold and distant now.

Jungkook stops in his tracks and turns behind to see why Yeri wasn’t following him yet. “What’s wrong?” He asked. She shakes her head, not wanting to bring it up. “Nothing.” She gets up from the bench and catches up with him. 

The rest of the night was spent with a brief convenience store run, a brief ‘dinner’ together inside of the apartment, and a brief conversation before everyone went to bed for the night. 

. . .

“Are you sure you don’t wanna spend Christmas and New Year’ with us, ___?” Taehyung asked for the millionth time. You nodded. “I’m very sure, Tae. I’ll be okay. I’ll make sure to enjoy my week alone.” You reassured. Taehyung clenched his jaw, feeling hurt that you were going to spend the holidays alone. Your parents went on vacation in Bali, wanting to spend the holidays with just them two. 

You and your parents were never that close when it came to quality time. They were supportive, attentive and loving parents but when it came to family-bonding quality time, it was practically nonexistent. It was what you grew up with. This was the norm for you. It was disappointing, of course, but that’s how it was. 

Jihyo suddenly came down with a terrible cold and was unable to come down and spend the week with you and Chaeyoung’s family dragged her down to Busan to spend the holidays with her grandparents. To be honest, you were kind of expecting her to offer you to spend the week with her and her family since they know you well and love you but she didn’t. Maybe it wasn’t on her mind and you didn’t want to burden her to make her feel as if she had to ask and invite you.

It was Christmas Eve and Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin were on the way back home to Busan to spend their holidays with their family–Jimin spending it with the brothers’ family. Although Jungkook didn’t verbally express it, he too felt bad leaving you alone for the holidays. He didn’t know much about how your family functioned but he was curious as to why you weren’t going to be spending it with them. 

Jimin gave you a pitiful look and hugged you. “Okay, well we should be leaving now. Our bus departs in 30 minutes.” Jimin said. You hugged him and chuckled. “Go on then! Let me know when you guys make it safely! I’ll be sure to update you guys on what I’ll be up to so you guys won’t be too worried.” You pulled away and nodded. Taehyung didn’t say anything but gave you a forced tight-lipped smile. “Alright. Merry Christmas, ___.” Taehyung walked over and hugged you tightly. You returned the tightness. “Merry Christmas.” You whispered. 

After Taehyung finally pulled away, you glanced over to Jungkook. He was glaring at you back. You weren’t able to understand the look on his face but you could swear it seemed as if he too had a look of pity. “Merry Christmas, Jungkook.” You said. You didn’t know if Jungkook wanted a hug from you as well so you decided to just wave. 

“Merry Christmas.” He replied, holding a hand up. After a slightly uncomfortable silence, Jimin goes ahead to open the front door and heads out first. Taehyung gives you a final smile before he follows behind. Jungkooks remains where he was for a little bit. 

“Let me know if you need anything.” He gives an actual wave and exits. He closes the door slowly and softly. 

You were now finally left alone for the entire week and you had no idea what to do now. The void of being alone hasn’t hit you yet and you hope it doesn’t ever or else you would end up crying yourself to sleep. 

. . .

“Boys, over here!” Jungkook heard his mother calling out to him. His mother and Taehyung’s father were standing next to their large black SUV, waving at them. “We’re home, Kook.” Taehyung mumbled sarcastically to him. Jungkook smirked, shaking his head at him. “So glad.” He replied back. 

Jimin ran up to their parents and hugged them. “It’s been so long, Mom and Dad!” Jimin cheered. He liked to call their parents mother and father since they practically raised Jimin along with Jungkook and Taehyung. 

“Oh, Jimin! You get so handsome every time I see you!” Jungkook’s mom pinches his cheeks. 

Taehyung’s father pulls Taehyung in for a hug and pats his back. “My son, welcome home.” He smiles. Taehyung fakes a smile back. “Missed you, dad.” 

After greeting Jimin, Jungkook’s mom pulls him in for a hug and kisses his forehead. “How have you been, my son?” She grins at him. Jungkook thinks to himself that being away from college has made his mother and Taehyung’s father extra affectionate with them. “I’ve been good. How have you been taking care of yourself?” He asks. She shrugs. “I’ve been picking up on yoga and pilates. It’s been relaxing me from my usual heavy workload.” She smiles. 

Jungkook noticed that there wasn’t a driver to pick them up like usual. Everyday, on his commute to school or anywhere else, he would have a driver to drop him off and pick him up. “No driver today?” Jungkook asked his parents. Taehyung’s father shook his head. “We both had the afternoon off and decided to get you guys ourselves.” He smiled. 

Jungkook and Taehyung looked at each other in surprise. “I see.” Taehyung said. “Come, let’s go have lunch.” Jungkook’s mother held onto him and pulled him to the car. Jungkook certainly wasn’t used to the sudden physical touch his mother was giving him and the sudden quality time as well. 

. . .

It was now dinnertime and Jungkook, Taehyung, Jimin, and their parents were all sitting at the table together. 

“Tell me about your living situation. Are you guys enjoying living together?” Jungkook’s mom asked Jungkook and Taehyung. Taehyung nodded. “Yea, I’ve trained Jungkook well. He cleans up after himself, he’s a great cook, and he likes to hang out with me and Jimin whenever he isn’t busy.” 

Jungkook’s mom darts her eyes between the three. “Jimin?” She asks. “Mhm. Jimin is living with us for the time being.” Taehyung clarifies. Jungkook’s mom mouth gapes open and turns her attention to Jimin. “Oh really? Jimin, what happened to your schooling? Are you not going anymore?” She asks. 

Jimin debates whether or not he should be honest with them. Taehyung and Jungkook’s parents were a lot like his parents in the sense of needing their children to attend prestigious universities, getting good grades, and getting a good job after graduation. 

“I’m taking a short break from school. I was feeling a little overwhelmed with the strict academic regulations that came with being a pre-med student. I feel like I need to be mentally prepared and confident with my decision to study medicine and I was not.” 

Taehyung’s father nodded understandably. “Of course, studying medicine is a serious decision. You’re going to be saving lives. You made the right decision, son.” He boasted. Taehyung gave a quick glance to Jungkook. He was already returning the same look he had: shock. What was going on with their parents? Had Taehyung or Jungkook told their parents that they wanted to take a break from school, they would most likely faint or die from a heart attack. 

“Do you like living with our sons?” Jungkook’s mother asked, giving Jimin an amused smile. Jimin chuckled, looking at the two. “Yeah, they’re the best. They and ___ made me feel very welcomed into their humble abode.” He smiled. 

Their parents gave him a perplexed look. “Who’s ___?” Taehyung’s father asked. Jungkook stopped chewing his food and only stared ahead at his mother who was giving him a confused look. Taehyung turned his head to Jimin and silently cursed him out. He explicitly told him during the busride to not bring you up to them. He knew that his parents wouldn’t be okay with a woman living with him and on top of that, they would know that Taehyung was struggling to make ends meet when it came to rent. It was their decision to cut them off financially, therefore they had no need to know what was going on in his life financially-wise. 

“Uh-,” Jimin stuttered. One thing about Jimin was that he was a terrible liar. He couldn’t lie for the life of him. “____ is Taehyung and Jungkook’s next door neighbor! She comes over often and hangs out with us. She’s very nice.” He spat out. Jungkook let his silverware clang onto his bowl of soup and groaned out loud. Taehyung blinked and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. 

“What? Are we not allowed to know about the kind of new friends you’ve made in Seoul?” Taehyung’s father protruded. “Yeah, tell us about ___. We would love to get to know your new female friend that is very close with you guys.” Jungkook’s mother chimed in. Taehyung chuckled nervously. “No, of course we can talk about ___. Like Jimin said, she is very nice. She’s a good friend of ours. She goes to Konkuk with us.” He explained.

Jungkook’s mother nodded. “What is she studying?” His father asked. “She’s studying to be a doctor.” He lied. If he was to expose that you were an undecided student, their parents would immediately disapprove of you. It would be worse than being a gap student, like Jimin. 

Taehyung’s father nodded in approval. “Smart girl.” He smiled. “Yes, very smart indeed. Is she originally from Seoul?” Jungkook’s mom leaned close to the table, seemingly very interested in learning more about you. 

“She’s from Busan like us. She actually went to the same school as Jungkook.” Taehyung nudged him. Jungkook choked on the soup he was trying to swallow. “What?” He muffled. “No way! What a funny coincidence! Jungkook, is she a good friend of yours too?” His mom grinned. 

He tried to swallow the rest of the liquid and pondered on the question. “Uh, I guess, yes.” He answered. “That’s so nice. We probably know her parents well.” Taehyung’s father nodded. “Oh, I don’t think so. She doesn’t come from an affluent family. She’s kind of…regular.” Taehyung said. 

He winced at the usage of “regular” to describe you but it was the only word he could think of for his parents to understand you and your background. It was the only word they’d understand. 

“Oh, I see.” She nodded. “She must be pretty, right?” This caused Jungkook and Taehyung to both choke on their food and Jimin to snort out a laugh. 

“What did I say?” she asked, worried as hell. 

Taehyung’s father chuckled at his sons. “They’re blushing, love. She must be very pretty indeed.” He teased. Taehyung dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin and cleared his throat. “Why do you guys care?” He said with a muffled voice. 

“We’re just curious.” She edged. 

Taehyung tried to brush off the question but Jungkook’s mother kept pestering. “She’s as pretty as every other girl in the world.” He tried to play it off. His father chuckled at his choice of wording. “To me, that translates to she’s pretty to you. Do any of you boys like her?”

Jimin laughed harder. “Dad, stop.” Taehyung hissed. “Is she in Busan for the holidays? We would love to meet her, you should invite her to spend New Year’s with us!” 

Jimin answered for them. “She stayed home for the break. Her parents are out of town.” 

“Jimin-,” Taehyung warned. “So you mean to tell me that she’s alone for the holidays? Why?” Taehyung’s father asked, with concern. “No idea. We had asked her to spend the holidays with us too but she insisted against it. The three of us didn’t want to leave her behind too.” Jimin continued to yap on. Taehyung pinched his leg and he yelped from pain. 

“Taehyung, Jungkook? Do invite her to come down and spend the week with us. We would love to have her here.” Jungkook’s mother suggested. “I-I think she will be okay. She might have other plans made and we shouldn’t disrupt that.” Taehyung said. 

“But-,”

“Mom, just drop it. She’s busy with another family that lives in Seoul. She told me herself. Don’t get worked up over it.” Jungkook chimed in. His mother remained silent but nodded. “I just think that no one should be spending the holidays alone. I recommend you guys text her and make sure she has company of some sort. Especially since she’s a woman living alone. Who knows what could happen to her.” 

That was probably the last thing the three of them wanted to hear. Although they felt reassured enough by you that you were going to be okay alone, they should’ve considered the fact that you were still a woman residing alone for a week and any weirdo could possibly hurt you and if not that, you were going to feel lonely regardless. Why would they just be okay with leaving you alone?

The three of them remained silent for the rest of the conversation. Taehyung’s father got the hint that they were now preoccupied with the thought of you being alone and decided to change the topic for the rest of dinner. 

“Are any of you boys seeing someone?” 

Jimin turned to look at Jungkook. “Jungkook, are you seeing someone?” His mother gasped. Jungkook kept his head down at his soup and remained silent some more. “You are?” 

“I’m not seeing anyone.” He lied. “Who is she? Who are her parents? Where is she from?”

Taehyung chuckled at him. “Her name is Yeri. They’ve been seeing each other for over a month now. She’s nice.” He answered for him. Jungkook kicked his legs under the table and Taehyung let out an abrupt chuckle. 

“I can’t believe how grown our son has gotten. He has his first girlfriend.” His mother cooes to her husband. “We would love to meet her whenever you’re ready to introduce us to her. I know it won’t be for a little while longer since it is still so new and fresh.”

Jungkook suddenly felt hot with irritation. Where was all this coming from? His parents suddenly showing an interest in his life? To Taehyung’s life? Why are they abnormally understanding of Jimin's drop out situation? Why now? Why now after he’s been gone for months that they suddenly want to act attentive and caring?

“What’s going with you both?” He asks. They give each other a perplexed look. “What are you talking about, son?” His mom asks innocently. “You know exactly what I mean. Why are you guys being like this? What did we do? What do you want from us?” He hissed. 

Taehyung wanted to attempt to control him but to be honest, he was quite relieved that he took the initiative to say something. He was beginning to feel claustrophobic with his parent’s sudden switch up. 

His parents remained quiet and uncomfortably looked at each other. Jungkook and Taehyung could sense tension oozing off of their silence. They knew that something was actually going on. 

The father cleared his throat and dabbed the corner of his lips with a napkin. “I think it’s time we tell them.” He said sternly. Jungkook’s mother didn’t react. She instead responded by taking a long chug of her red wine. 

Her sweet mother demeanor switched into a cold yet seemingly anxious attitude. “Tell us what?” Taehyung asked. 

“I’ll say it.” Jungkook’s mom spoke up. Her voice was deep. She darted her eyes between her son, Taehyung and Jimin. Her eyes softened as she glanced between the three boys she deeply cared for and loved. 

“Two months ago..,” She started off. 

“Two months ago…I got diagnosed with stage two cancer. Breast cancer.” She stated. 

All of a sudden, Jungkook felt as if his chair was sunken into a black void that was hungry to capture him. He felt as if he was disassociated from where he was. Is this a dream? Is it reality? Is he somewhere in between? Did he hear her correctly? 

Is this actually real life? 

With the silence in the room, you could hear a pin drop. You could hear thoughts.

“Your mother has her first chemotherapy session scheduled about two weeks from now. Doctors say that it is still possible they can remove the tumor inside.” He spoke up. 

Taehyung slightly turned his head to Jungkook, if he could figure out whatever was going through his head. If he even had anything going through his head at all. 

His face was as white as the wall, lips as white as him. His doe eyes were a combination of grief, anger, shock, and nothing at the same time. Jungkook could throw up at this very moment. 

“Why wouldn’t you tell me this sooner?” He whispered to her. She looked at him with regret and with pain. Pain for her only child having the bear this kind of news. 

“I figured it could wait. I didn’t want this to distract you from your studies.” She said matter-of-factly. Jungkook slammed his silverware to the table. 

“It took for you to get cancer to suddenly care about me? Care about my feelings? Consider me into your life for once?” He spat out. She jumped from the sudden harsh words he said to her.

“Now that you’re sick, you want to suddenly act like you have a son to talk to?” He continued. He tried to fight the tears that were threatening to spill but he couldn’t bear it anymore. He was destroyed. He was furious. He couldn’t even look at her without wanting to say bad words.

“Jungkook-,” Taehyung’s father tried to get him to stop but Jungkook seriously could not manage to stay in the same room as her. He stands up from his seat and storms upstairs to his bedroom.

“Jungkook, come back please.” His father yelled out for him. Taehyung watched him as he left. He understood where this was coming from. It was a mixture of grief of the devastating news and it was a mixture of him genuinely being furious at how his mother was acting like everything was fine between them when it just wasn’t.

Jungkook slammed his door and sat onto the side of his bed. He expected the rest of the tears to fall out but it felt as if he finally became mentally strong enough to block it. He was struggling to catch his breath, to catch a single ounce of a breath to exhale. His chest felt as if he swallowed a flame, growing hotter and painful to withstand.

He didn’t have the capacity to think rationally, act logically, and be stable. He was dealing with a surge of insanely different emotions and didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to see his mother, he didn’t want to see his step-father, he didn’t want to see Taehyung or Jimin or have either of the two come to his bedroom to confront him. He didn’t want to be here. Not at this home, not in Busan, all he knew was that he wanted to be as far away from here as possible. 

Without thinking, he grabbed his duffel bag,–which luckily hasn’t been unpacked yet–his phone, keys, and wallet and immediately left his childhood bedroom. He stomped down the stairs, not caring if they could hear him coming down, and headed straight towards the front door. 

The nearest bus station was a 30 minute drive, about a two hour walk from his house, but he didn’t care. He stormed outside of the house, ignoring the calls from his mother and father. 

Taehyung remained where he sat, knowing that Jungkook would be too stubborn to listen to him. He knew that Jungkook was just in shock and just wasn’t handling the news in the best and mature way. 

“Where could he possibly be going at this time?” Jungkook’s mother breathed out heavily. “Relax, he probably went on a walk to clear his mind. Give him some time to breathe.” His father soothed. 

“Taehyung,” His mother called out. He managed to look up from his plate and made eye contact with her. “Please call Jungkook if he doesn’t return within an hour.” She pleaded. Taehyung nodded in response. 

“Promise me? It is almost sunset, he shouldn’t be walking in the dark all alone.” 

“I promise.” He croaked out. Jungkook’s mother places her head into her palms and lets out an exasperated sigh. The table was filled with a painfully awkward silence. Jimin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was suddenly missing his own home—the home where he is disowned from. 

“I’m going to get Mirae to clear our plates if we are all done eating now.” Taehyung’s father spoke up. Mirae was the housekeeper. 

“Mirae, come please. We’re all done here.” He called out, after using the silence as a collective response. 

. . .

After an hour and a half of speed walking, Jungkook finally made it to the bus station. His shoulders were aching, his legs were throbbing, and he was sweating like crazy. He felt pity for the people around him that could smell his sweat from walking over 20,000 steps across town. 

He approached the guest service desk. “Good evening, do you have an available ticket for a bus to Seoul? Soonest one, preferably.” 

As he was walking to the station, he decided he would head straight home to the apartment. He didn’t want to spend an entire week with his mother and pretend that everything was fine when it wasn’t. He didn’t want to spend Christmas and the New Year’s and pretend that he was having a good time when he wouldn’t. 

“The next bus to Seoul is arriving in twenty minutes. You’re lucky, there was one available seat left. Would you like to purchase it?” The attendant asked. He immediately reached for his wallet and handed his credit card, not caring about the price of the ticket. 

After purchasing his ticket, he sat at the nearest bench and closed his eyes. 

All he could replay in the back of his mind was the sight of his mother at the dinner table. He didn’t realize how frail she appeared, how deepened her wrinkles grew to be, and how pale her skin was. Her hair was thinner and grayer. She barely touched her dinner as well. How could he have not noticed how sick his own mother looked? His own mother was sick with cancer and he didn’t even notice it. 

His guilt shifted to resentment; how could she suddenly want to repair their damaged relationship now? Why now? Why after being diagnosed with a sickness does she suddenly want to make things better between them? Why didn’t she care prior? Would she have still reached out if she was never sick? Would she still care about him? 

He refused to let the tears that were pooling fall. He didn’t want to care about this. He didn’t want to admit that he is still a hurting child inside. He is still a young boy that misses and needs his mom. He didn’t want to be that boy anymore. He wanted to be the 20-year old man that was a college student, living on his own, and heading off into the real world.

Jungkook suddenly felt his phone vibrate in his hands. Taehyung was calling him.

After letting the phone ring for several moments, he decided to pick up. 

“What?” He said. 

“Where are you?” Taehyung asked. He sounded as if he was keeping his voice hushed, as if he didn’t want anyone to eavesdrop on the conversation.

Jungkook debated for a moment if he should just straight up tell him. He decided to lie. “I’m going to Yeri’s.” 

“Yeri’s? What, why?” He stuttered. “I, uh, don’t think I can handle being around my mom right now. Yeri’s with her family in Seoul for the holidays, so I’m just going to spend the week with her.” 

Taehyung sighed against the speaker. “Kook, your mom is sick. She…she needs you right now? Don’t do this.” He said quietly. Jungkook assumes that his mother is nearby and Taehyung didn’t want her to listen to the phone call. 

“She’s got you, your dad, and Jimin. She’ll be fine. She didn’t need me before and she certainly doesn’t need me now.” He spat out. 

Taehyung remained silent on the line, not knowing what to say to convince Jungkook to come back. He didn’t know what to say in general.

“Alright. Do what you want. Should I tell our parents you’re with Yeri?” He asked.

“I don’t care. Tell them whatever you want, I couldn’t give a single shit.” Jungkook hangs up without letting Taehyung say anything back. He swallowed the guilt he felt after talking to Taehyung so harshly. He knew that he shouldn’t take his anger out on him. Jungkook didn’t know how to handle this situation at all. He just wanted to leave Busan. He wanted to be home.

. . .

It was 11 o’clock at night and you were awake, with a sheet mask on, painting your toenails, and were on your third glass of red wine. Faye Webster was playing on your speakers in the background and you were humming along to the lyrics as you lightly brushed your pinky toe white. 

You were in a blissful mood; tipsy with wine, good music and good wine. Your chicken you ordered for delivery was on the way. Maybe this week alone wouldn’t be so awful after all. Maybe a week to yourself was what your soul was craving. 

Your phone was on DND, the LED living room lamp was cozy and warmly yellow. You were in paradise. Although at the same time you did miss the boys. You missed the chaotic energy they brought. You missed the Friday night movie watches, the constant bickering, the smell of Taehyung cooking dinner, the gossip you shared with Jimin, and the rare presence of Jungkook. 

You could only hope that they were enjoying their time at home. You missed Busan like crazy and wish that you could be back in your hometown too. 

You chugged down the rest of your wine and immediately began pouring yourself another glass. Being wine drunk was the move for tonight’s solemn mood. 

Your last toenail was painted and you placed the toe dividers in between. You sighed in delight and sipped your wine gracefully, still humming along to the song playing. 

Your relaxed mood was paused after hearing the sound of someone knocking on the door. You perked up, knowing that your fried chicken had arrived. You waddled over to the door, and eagerly opened the door.

Your breath was caught in your throat as you were not met with the sight of the delivery man. You were met with the sight of Jungkook.

“Jungkook?” You gasped, still in disbelief that he was here right in front of you. 

“Hey.” He said. 

You couldn’t manage to say anything else. You could only just stare at him. He looked physically exhausted. His hair was disheveled and looked greasy. His lips were cracked and dry and his eyes had dark bags hanging underneath.

“Come in.” You said but it managed to come out as a question. He entered the apartment and removed his shoes. He walked straight to the kitchen right after and grabbed a glass cup. He poured himself water from the sink and chugged it down in one second. You were still staring at him in disbelief.

“Um…can I ask why you’re home so soon?” You asked. He observed your shock-ridden face that was being covered by the sheet mask you had on your face. Your hair was tied up into a low bun and was pulled back by a plush headwrap with kitten ears attached to it. You had on your pink gingham patterned matching pajamas and he looked down to your freshly painted toenails and the toes being separated by the divider. He let out a chuckle at your relaxed appearance. 

“Sorry for interrupting your self care night.” He smirked at you. You embarrassingly walked away and headed back to the living room. Jungkook followed you. “Whatever.” You mumbled to yourself. Your solo night was now ruined by Jungkook’s random return.

You reached for your wine glass and took a large gulp. Your palms were suddenly sweaty and your heart was beating fast. You were nervous. You were now no longer alone in the apartment. It was just you and Jungkook. 

“Why are you home?” You asked again. Jungkook shrugged. “I didn’t want to be there anymore. I felt like coming back.” 

You stared at him down, still extremely confused. All you could think to yourself was why. Why, why, why? What happened?

“Does Taehyung know you’re here?” You asked. Jungkook shook his head no. “He doesn’t. And I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell him I am. He thinks I’m somewhere else.” He shoved his pants into his pockets and kept strong eye contact with you. He knows you’re confused and that you must have thousands of questions running through your mind right now. 

You nodded in agreement. “Are you going to stay? The entire holiday break?” 

Jungkook nodded. “Oh.” You manage to say. You couldn’t hide the disappointment laced in your voice. “Again, sorry for interrupting you. I should’ve told you I was coming.” He ran his fingers through his greasy hair.

“Don’t apologize. This is your home too. You can come and go as you please.” You chuckle nervously. You were extremely nervous to be alone with Jungkook for an entire week. This reminded you of the time when Taehyung was gone for a weekend to go interview for his candidacy as a recipient of the ‘best film’ award. You and Jungkook were in a heated argument, like usual, and you remember how awkward it was to be alone for a weekend. Now, it was for a whole week. Seven days.

“You want to join me? I’m just drinking wine and listening to music.” You offered, trying to break the awkward tension that was brewing. Jungkook debated for a moment. He didn’t know if he was in the mood to socialize anymore for the day. He was on a crowded 4-hour bus ride, and desperately craved to be back in his bed after a long day of commuting. 

Despite that, he felt bad to decline your offer. “Sure. Do you mind if I shower first? I’m pretty gross and greasy right now.” 

You immediately reassured him. “A-Absolutely, go ahead and shower and do whatever you need to do. No rush!” You blabbered. Jungkook gave you a curt nod and dragged his duffel bag and himself ahead to his bedroom. 

You breathed out a long stressed out sigh. You reached for your phone and tracked your chicken which was beginning to take too long to arrive. The driver was five minutes away. 

You groaned into a pillow, not caring that you were staining it with your sheet mask serums. 

. . .

After forty-five minutes passed by, you were gnawing on your third chicken leg with Jungkook devouring the food as well. He didn’t realize how hungry he had been. He barely ate the entire day. 

“This is some of the best chicken I’ve ever had in my entire life.” Jungkook said with his mouth full. You chuckled as you were chewing. “This is my go-to chicken restaurant. They never miss.” You dabbed the corner of your cheeks with a napkin and rinsed the chicken down your throat with a nice cold beer. 

You shouldn’t be mixing alcohol right now but you forgot that you had ordered beer with the order and didn’t want to mix fried chicken with wine; it wasn’t a good match. You were slightly past tipsy and entering drunk territory. 

Jungkook was also drinking his beer of the night. A fresh hot shower, fresh pair of pajamas, a cold beer, and crispy Korean fried chicken was the perfect way to end his shitty long day. 

The two of you were devouring the chicken in a comfortable silence. Faye Webster was still playing quietly in the background. “I like Faye Webster too.” Jungkook said. 

Your eyes widened. “You listen to her too?” He nodded. “I like to play her music whenever I study or read. Keeps me focused.” He said. You couldn’t help but to smile at that. “That’s so cool. I haven’t met anyone that also listened to her. She makes great music.” 

Jungkook nodded in agreement. “Same here. Sucks that she probably might not ever tour in Korea.” He sighed, tossing a chicken bone into the box. 

“Never say never.” You wagged a finger at him. 

The two of you were sitting quite far apart; both sitting on each end of the couch. He was freshly showered and the entire living room was filled with the scent of his shampoo. He smelled like fresh and clean laundry. You admired the way his damp wet hair stuck to his forehead and how his ends sprung and curled outwards. 

Another comfortable silence fell upon. 

“So, how was your short time with your family?” You asked, trying to make some conversation. After all, you did invite him to hang with you.

Jungkook took a gulp of beer and pondered on how to respond to your question. 

How straight forward should he be? He has come to the conclusion awhile ago that you are someone who is trustworthy and someone easy to confide problems with. You are good at comforting others. However, he constantly mentally struggles whether the two of you are considered to be ‘friends’ enough to discuss any dilemmas with. The two of you have a weird so-called friendship.

However, despite all the complications, he’d rather communicate honestly to someone who wasn’t biased to his family for once. 

“If I had to describe it in one word, it would be: weird. It was weird.”

“How come?” You pestered.

He sighed. “They were being abnormally…nice for once. Like they were trying to act like actual parents and wanted to know what we were up to since we last chatted. Immediately, that was a huge red flag for me because since when did they care about that, right? What other way was there to describe that other than weird? It was so weird.” 

You cocked your head to the side. “I see.” You nodded. Jungkook continued on.

“It was such bullshit. They picked us up from the bus stop themselves and actually sat down to eat dinner with us.”

You were in shock hearing at how distant and fucked up Jungkook’s relationship with his parents was. The fact that he was shocked that they ate dinner with them said a lot. 

“Eventually, I made them stop the bullshit. I asked them why they were acting so differently and comes to turn out that my mother has fucking cancer.” He said nonchalantly. 

Without hesitation, you immediately got up from your spot and sat right in front of Jungkook. “I’m sorry, what? Your mom has cancer?” Your eyes were wide open, with your heart thumping against your chest from the shock.

“Yeah, stage two breast cancer. She’s known for two months and broke the news over dinner.” He chugged another gulp of beer. He could feel his chest burning from the emotions arising again and his eyes stinging from the tears threatening to form. 

“Oh, Jungkook…” You cooed. You hesitantly placed your hand above his hand, debating whether you should touch it out of comfort. You decided to just place your hand over his forearm. 

“I’m so sorry to hear that, I’m truly so sorry.” Your eyes met with his and Jungkook could easily read the immense sympathy you had for him. Your eyes looked glassy, as if you were going to cry. 

He shook his head and let out a cold laugh. “Is it bad that I’m so fucking pissed at her, ____? I’m genuinely so furious with her. Why is it that now after finding out she’s sick, she wants to become more present in my life and start wanting to know how I’ve been? She has never cared before so why should she switch up and care now?” 

You allowed Jungkook to continue venting. You knew he had more to let out of his system. 

“Am I a bad son for storming out after she broke the news? Was I supposed to get over it and stay for the rest of the break and be there for her? Am I in the wrong for being upset?” He was fuming. His nose was turning pink from his arising emotions and he continued to withhold the tears. He refused to cry. He refused to cave in.

“You’re allowed to feel whatever you feel. I think you have every right to feel this way,” You started off, beginning to rubbing circles on his forearm with your fingertips. Jungkook looked up to make eye contact with you.

“I also think you’re in shock and this is you reacting out of shock and the lifelong resentment you hold against your mom. The shock is coming out of worry and fear. And you carry worry and fear over your mom’s news because you love her despite the resentment. You love your mother and you’re scared to lose her. You also have so much reason to be furious at her as a secondary emotion.”

“I don’t want to worry about her, she’s never worried about me. She practically let me raise myself. Taehyung was more of a mother to me than she was.” 

You stopped rubbing circles and removed your hands from his space. 

“Do you want to hear advice or do you just want a friend to listen to you? I can do whatever you need.” You asked. Jungkook could only stare into your soft and kind eyes. He didn’t know how to answer that. He’s never been asked that before. 

The fact that you called yourself his friend comforted him slightly. He needed a friend by his side. 

“I don’t want to talk about her anymore.” He firmly stated. Jungkook’s an avoidant person. When he struggles with an issue, he pretends it doesn’t exist. 

You could tell Jungkook was truly hurting from this. You could see the pain tattooed in his eyes. You also didn’t want to force him to talk about something that was distressing him and that he was clearly still in the process of accepting to believe. 

“Let’s finish this bottle of wine together, yeah?” You smiled at him. He tried to suppress the smile that was trying to respond to yours but he couldn’t. It’s something about the way you always manage to get his soft emotions out of him that he can’t hide well. 

. . .

Throughout the week, you and Jungkook were co-existing well. The two of you would accompany each other during breakfast and dinner, and occasionally grab iced Americanos for lunch. 

There was a holiday market on campus and you invited him to tag along. The two of you spent a good hour at the market and checked out everything together; even playing the Christmas-themed arcade games provided. 

You continued your Christmas tradition of watching classic holiday movies in your coziest pajamas while eating fresh baked cookies and hot chocolate. Normally, you would do this with Jihyo and Chaeyoung and had assumed you would continue the tradition alone this year but Jungkook surprisingly joined you. 

Jungkook was beginning to grow comfortable with considering you as an actual friend and not just someone whom he likes to bicker with. He liked your company. He liked how you used him as Jimin’s replacement to discuss any gossip and how you used him as Taehyung’s replacement to become the chef of the household. He cooked everything for you; breakfast and dinner. He realized while he was cooking breakfast one morning that one his love languages for his friends was doing acts of service. He liked cooking for you, he liked helping Yoongi out with any assignments he had trouble with, he liked doing extra household chores to make Taehyung’s day easier whenever he had a busy day of working and going to school, and he liked tagging along with Jimin to the gym to spot him during their weight lifting sessions, even tags along without Jimin asking. 

He didn’t regret leaving Busan. He knew he needed time away to process and needed time apart from his mom to understand her and her reasoning on why she did what she did. After all, she can’t just ignore the emotional negligence she’s done to him since he was a child. He was enjoying his break back at home. 

It was New Year’s Eve morning when you and Jungkook were sitting at the table and enjoying each other’s company as per usual. 

“I forgot, will Tae and Jimin come back tonight or tomorrow morning?” You asked Jungkook. “I think tomorrow morning. My parent’s usually like to throw New Year’s parties and probably want the two to celebrate with them and their asshole friends.” Jungkook sipped his tea.

You chuckled at how nonchalantly he insults people. “Do you want to come with me to Hoseok’s New Year’s party? He texted me about it last night. It was a last minute he and Yoongi made.” 

Jungkook immediately nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been missing Yoongi like crazy.” You gaped your mouth open. “Are you actually missing someone? That’s crazy.” 

Jungkook tossed a raspberry at you. “I’m not an emotionless psychopath, ___.” He rolled his eyes. You groaned in annoyance. “I don’t know why you can’t admit that you indeed are an emotionless psychopath.” 

“Just because I’m not nice to everyone doesn’t mean I don’t have a heart.” He argued. “I think it means you have unsolved trauma you need to get through.” You argued back, causing Jungkook to snort at you. 

“Therapy is expensive, being an asshole is free.”

You laughed at him, shaking your head in amusement. “Let’s leave at around 10:30.” You suggested. He nodded in agreement and went back to reading the news on his phone.

You suddenly got a Facetime call from Taehyung. Excitedly, you answered quickly.

“Good morning, ___!” Taehyung beamed at you. This was the first time you were seeing his face after he left to go home. The two of you continued to text everyday but this was the first time he called to Facetime after being gone throughout the week. 

“Tae! What’s up! I’ve missed you a lot.” You smiled at him. Jimin popped his head into the screen and waved at you. “Jimin! Hi, I’ve missed you too!” You grinned at the two. 

“We just wanted to say hi on the last day of the year. We miss you too. Wish you were spending the New Year’s with us but we’ll be back tomorrow morning. We were supposed to be back today but my parents want Jimin and I to stay and hang with them and their asshole friends.” Taehyung said. You choke out a giggle, remembering how Jungkook said the exact same thing a minute ago. A reminder of how closely similar they can be. 

A text from Jungkook slides to the top of your screen:

jungkook: Remember, they don’t know I’m here. 

You quickly text back a thumbs up emoji and return back to the video call.

“So, where’s Jungkook? Is he still asleep?” You asked. “Oh, he’s not here in Busan. He went to spend the holidays with Yeri and her family. I have no idea where in Korea he’s at.” 

Your face fell at what Taehyung said. You peered over to look at Jungkook and he was still just reading the news on his phone, as if he didn’t hear Taehyung. 

You felt so stupid to remember that Jungkook had a whole girlfriend. He’s barely mentioned her the entire time he’s been home. 

“Oh, right. Well, I’ll probably text him to wish a happy new year’s after midnight. How have you guys been, what were you guys up to all week?” You quickly dismissed the Jungkook topic.

Jimin groaned. “Tae’s dad asks us to play golf and tennis with him every morning at the country club he goes to everyday. Then, in the evening, Jungkook’s mom asks us to go to her pilates and yoga classes with her. We’ve literally been exercising every single day. Three entirely different sports and exercises everyday. At night, Tae and I try to sneak out and get drinks and go to clubs to let loose.” Jimin whined. You giggled at them.

“That actually sounds like a lot of fun, I wish I could attend pilates classes for free. It’s such an expensive hobby.” You chuckle. “At least we burn so many calories a day that we have extra space to drink our sorrows away.” Jimin groaned again. Taehyung chuckled and nodded in agreement. 

“Wish you were here, ___. How have you been spending your break? Enjoying the silence in the apartment? Do you keep the door locked every night?” Taehyung pestered you.

“I’ve been having a great time alone. I spent Christmas with Hoseok and plan to spend tonight with him again. He and Yoongi are throwing a party.” You lied. You didn’t want Taehyung to have the idea that you spent Christmas alone like a lonely loser. 

“Ah, I’m so glad he’s giving you company. Let me know if you need anything, okay? I’m always here for you.” Taehyung urged. Jungkook tried to hold back a scoff at his obvious desperate attempts to woo you over. 

“I promise, Tae. See you tomorrow, okay? Thanks for calling to check in.” You smiled and waved. 

“Taehyung and I are gonna head out to the club with his dad now. Wish us luck. See ya, ___.” Jimin hung up on the call before you had a chance to say something back. 

You sighed in happiness, realizing that you truly missed the two and enjoyed seeing their faces and hearing their voices after so long. 

“Why do you look so happy? You missed Tae-Tae?” Jungkook mocked you. You rolled your eyes at him, already annoyed. “I miss both of them, not just Tae. What’s with everyone thinking I like Taehyung or something?” You groaned.

Jungkook snapped his head up at that. “Who thinks that?” He asked. “Literally, everyone. Hoseok and my friends Jihyo and Chaeyoung, too. Hoseok even has the audacity to think that Taehyung has some kind of crush on me. Ridiculous, right?” 

Jungkook kept quiet for a second but laughed it off. “Extremely ridiculous.” 

For some reason, this annoyed you. “‘Extremely’? Is it that weird if someone like Tae was to like me? As if I’m so unlikable or something?” You spat. Jungkook laughed again, not expecting you to get so heated at that.

“Did I say that? Tell me what exactly I said that hinted at that?” He snickered. You scoff at him. “You said ‘extremely’ really honestly. I could tell by the way you dragged out the word. You said ‘extreeemeleey’.” You mocked.

Jungkook was growing to be more amused with you. He didn’t know you had a dramatic side to you. “As if you are such a catch yourself! I’m surprised you even have a girlfriend that can handle you.” You pick on him.

It took Jungkook a second to remember who you were even talking about. He hasn’t thought about Yeri since the ice-skating date. He doesn’t even remember if he’s replied to the last text she sent.

Admittedly, Jungkook felt bad that he cared little about Yeri. He knows that she’s a nice girl and genuinely deserved better than the treatment he’s giving her. It’s clear she wants more than sex from him. He made a mental note to have a chat with Yeri about their relationship after the New Year’s. He knows that he can’t be the one to give her the kind of relationship she’s seeking for and that it was shitty of him to lead her on like this for so long. Maybe he really can be an emotionless psychopath. 

“Didn’t highschool you harbor a big ass crush on me? Clearly, I must be a catch.” He teased. Everytime Jungkook mentions your stupid crush on him, you mentally kill yourself. What in the world made you think it was a good idea to confess to him on the last day of school? Why were you so confident that you wouldn’t run into him again after graduation? You should’ve known that you were going to lose your freshman dorm and end up living in an apartment with him and his brother somehow. 

“Why don’t you go tease your girlfriend instead of teasing me all the time. Do you even know what she’s up to lately? You’ve barely even talked about her and haven’t heard you talk to her on the phone or anything.” The bickering continued. 

“Why do you care though?” Jungkook’s smile grew bigger. You couldn’t help but laugh along with him. The lover girl in you couldn’t help but get butterflies at the grin he’s giving you. It’s rare to see Jungkook smile but it’s even rarer to make him smile. You forget how pretty his teeth are and how gorgeous he looks when he’s smiling.

“Stop smiling at me, you look like a creep.” You lied. Jungkook snorts at you and goes back to reading the news on his phone. You take the opportunity to secretly admire him and his beauty. God, you hated how he still makes you feel like that giddy high schooler all over again. It wasn’t fair. 

What will it take and how long will it take for you to get over that stupid feeling he makes you feel? When will it hit you that Jungkook is into someone else, someone that isn’t you? Your heart panged at the constant reminder that Jungkook once had your heart and stomped all over it til it was no longer existent and relevant in his eyes. 

. . .

“___! You’re here! And…Jungkook too?” Hoseok gave you a confused glance. 

“He had nothing better to do and he said he missed Yoongi so I had no choice but to drag him.” You whispered through your teeth. Hoseok nodded understandably. 

Hoseok’s apartment was surprisingly packed. You didn’t realize how many friends he and Yoongi collectively shared. It was around 30 people together inside their large studio apartment. 

You and Jungkook had pregamed together before heading out to Hoseok’s. You both took three shots of soju together and made small conversation before leaving. You were feeling happily buzzed right now. 

“Let’s take a shot together, my love.” Hoseok handed you a small plastic shot glass of a mysteriously pungent clear liquid. “What is this? It smells so strong.” You scrunched your nose. “Tequila. Don Julio Blanco.” He smiled at you mischievously. 

“Oh, you want me fucked up tonight.” You chuckled at him. You both clinked your cups together and tossed the hot liquor down your poor throats and poor liver.

“I’m thankful for our friendship, ___. We only met a few months ago but you’re already one of the most important people in my life. I love you.” Hoseok pulled you into a tight embrace. “I love you too, Hobi. Thank you for being my friend. To another year of friendship.” 

Hoseok kissed your temple and leaned down to whisper against your ear. “I have something to tell you but I’m afraid you’re going to kill me.” 

You chuckled and leaned into his ears. “Nothing you can do could possibly make me hate you.” You began to mentally prepare yourself for whatever he was going to tell you.

“Promise?” 

“Depends on what it is.” You smirked. “Namjoon is here.”

Your smile dropped instantly. How the fuck is he here? “How the fuck is he-”

“Some of Yoongi’s friends spread the word to him and next thing I know, he’s here with them.” 

You groaned out of annoyance and stress. “Fuck me.” You sighed.

“I just wanted to let you know in case you run into him.” Hoseok gave you a sympathetic glare. “Thanks, I guess. I mean, I wasn’t really into him like that either way, it’s just going to be so awkward if I was to run into him after he just randomly ghosted me. I don’t know what I’d even say to him.”

“You don’t owe him an explanation. He does. So, don’t feel obliged to make conversation if you do happen to run into him. Just stick by me and Yoongi’s side the entire night, we’ll look out for you.” Hoseok reassures you. 

You nod in agreement. “I’m gonna go greet my friends that just walked in, give me a second, okay?” Hoseok patted reassuringly on your shoulder and walked past to greet his newly arrived guests.

You sighed in annoyance to yourself, not knowing what to do as you were left alone. Jungkook went off to find Yoongi. You looked around the room to see if you could spot Namjoon. 

Luckily, you couldn’t see him anywhere. Hopefully, he left for the night?

It was creeping to a quarter past 11. You caught sight of Jungkook and Yoongi in the middle of a conversation. You didn’t know how to distract yourself by looking all lonely so you reached your phone and randomly scrolled through different apps.

After a few minutes of doing so, you decided to go to the cooler and search for a drink to emotionally rely on for the time being. As you were searching, you reached for a Wild Basin Mango Mai Tai seltzer. Your hands were grabbing to the can until another hand suddenly reached over the same seltzer can. 

You looked up and were unfortunately met with the sight of Namjoon.

“Great.” You mumble to yourself. 

“Hey, ___! Nice seeing you here.” Namjoon chuckled nervously. You flashed him a fake smile and instantly stopped reaching for the drink. “H-How have you been?” Namjoon attempted to make conversation with you. You couldn’t help but to scoff and roll your eyes at him. You tried to walk away from him but he chased after you.

“___, wait please. I can explain, okay?” 

Namjoon led you to a quiet corner and placed your back against the wall. “Seriously, I can explain.” He pleaded.

“I don’t think I want to hear your excuses tonight, Namjoon.” You tried to walk away but Namjoon gently stopped you. “Seriously, give me just a minute of your time to explain. I promise to leave you alone after.” You held his right hand up, as if he was genuinely swearing to do so.

“You have five minutes.” You crossed your arms.

He breathed out and scratched his neck. “Well, I don’t really know how else to explain it but…I swear I was serious when I asked you out on that date. I had true genuine intentions. I was really into you that night we met but…I was sort of blackmailed to not go on that date with you?” He admitted.

Your heart sunk at that. “I’m sorry?” You asked in disbelief. Namjoon nodded understandably. “I know how crazy that fucking sounds but I swear, I was told to not go on that date with you from a friend of mine. He said he would make the date wouldn’t happen under any circumstance. And he’s a pretty scary guy so I just did what he told me. I know I should’ve told you this as soon as he threatened me but he said not to tell you and … now here we are.”

Namjoon looked genuinely sincere. He had a worried expression mirroring his eyes. He wasn’t avoiding eye contact with you or anything that expressed that he could be possibly lying. You could sense in your gut that he was telling the truth.

“Who told you not to go on that date with me?” You asked. 

“___, I wish I could tell you but I can-”

“If you want me to forgive you, tell me who told you, please. Please Namjoon.” You begged.

He remained silent for a moment, obviously mentally debating whether he should confess or not.

“Promise you won’t confront him about it? I feel like he had good intentions with the blackmailing, I genuinely trust that he must’ve had a good reason to do so. Don’t confront him, please.” He pleaded. 

You nodded in agreement. “I promise.” 

Namjoon sighed, to prepare himself. “It was Jimin.”

You gape your mouth wide open. “J-Jimin? Are you serious?”

Namjoon reached his hands into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. He went into his text messages and shoved his phone in front of your face. “Read the texts.”

Jimin: Joon, you busy?

Namjoon: Nah, not really. What’s up?

Jimin: Meet me in front of your apartment in ten minutes. got a huge favor to ask you

“He came over to ask me to not show up to our date. He said it was important and didn’t give a clear enough reason as to why. He just kept emphasizing how important it was and that he would eventually explain why but he never did. I swear to you, ___. I seriously didn’t mean to ghost you like that.” Namjoon explained. 

You took a moment to absorb everything. As expected, you had thousands of questions running through your mind: Why would Jimin want your date with Namjoon to not happen? Why would he set you two up together to only make him ghost on you like that? Why would he comfort you as if he wasn’t the reason as to why the date never happened. Why would Jimin do that? 

You grew to be extremely irritated. You didn’t want to bring this negative energy into the new year. This was a problem for next year you to handle. Tonight, you wanted to just enjoy yourself. 

“Thank you for telling me this, Namjoon. Seriously.” You smiled. He returned the grin at you. “You don’t hate me, right?” 

You chuckle at him. “Not anymore.” The two of you chuckle together. “Let’s go back to where everyone is.” You suggested. You pulled on his arm, making him be dragged from behind. 

Jungkook caught sight of you pulling Namjoon back to the crowd and immediately felt himself grow to be confused. “Is that Namjoon?” Jungkook asked Yoongi. Yoongi swiveled his head to check out the direction Jungkook was facing. He saw you and Namjoon in the middle of the conversation, drinking seltzers together. 

“Yeah, some of my friends brought him along. I guess the frat king had nothing better to do tonight.” Yoongi turned his attention back to Jungkook. He was still eyeing you and Namjoon down. Yoongi knew that Namjoon had randomly ghosted you the day of the date and knew that Jungkook would naturally be feeling slightly overprotective over you. Yoongi knew that despite Jungkook’s cold exterior towards you, you held a soft spot in him. He could tell by the Jungkook’s eyes softened whenever he was around you, the way his defensive avoidant traits have diminished and how he’s become more open and welcoming to allow you in his trusted circle. 

“You’re not going to get drunk and shit on her again, right?” Yoongi teased. Jungkook chuckled and swirled his tongue around his inner cheek. “Nah, not anymore. We’re…she’s a friend to me now. I don’t do that to my friends.” Jungkook said, shyly. 

Yoongi felt proud of Jungkook. He can see how Jungkook is shifting away from his angsty teenage self and is trying to transition into an emotionally composed man. 

It was now five minutes until the New Year countdown. Hoseok had passed out hats, glasses, and glasses of champagne to everyone. After passing everything, he walked over to you and Namjoon. “Nice to meet you again.” Hoseok flashed him his best fake-smile. 

Namjoon obliviously smiled at him back and waved at him. “You too! Thanks for hosting this party.” He gave him a curt nod. Hoseok smiled again and nodded. “Of course, thank you for coming! Make sure you get your New Year’s kiss for good luck!” Unbeknownst to Namjoon, Hoseok lightly pinched your elbow, causing you to yelp. You gave him a death glare but he didn’t bother to give you a glance. “I’m going to look for my New Year's kiss partner. See you next year!” He joked, giving you a quick wink before disappearing into the crowd.

You glanced at Namjoon and nervously chuckled. “That’s Hoseok, by the way, if you didn’t know. He’s one of my best friends.” Namjoon nodded. “Of course, I remember him from the Halloween party. He’s Yoongi’s boyfriend or something like that, right?” 

“Yeah, he is.”

There was a slight uncomfortable silence between the two of you. All of a sudden, the room was filled with countdown chants. 

“Ten, nine, eight, seven…,”

“___?” Namjoon faced you. You looked up at him. “Yes?”

“Five, four, three, two, one! Happy New Year’s!”

He looked down to your lips and his eyes were asking for permission to kiss you. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol hitting your system all at once or if it was the fact that you had forgiven him for what he did but you decided to not give a fuck and not make the kiss a big deal.

You gave him a single nod and he immediately bent down to plant a gentle and soft kiss on your lips. 

It was a sweet kiss. He didn’t try to barge his tongue down your throat nor did he try to slobber your face full of his saliva.

You hummed in pleasure and kissed him back, cupping one of your hands onto his face. Namjoon breaks the kiss after a few moments and flashes a soft smile at you. “That was nice.” His eyes turned into crescents. 

You giggled and nodded in agreement. “It was. Happy New Year’s, Namjoon.” You held your champagne glass up to clink with his. “Happy New Year’s, ___.” You felt the need to clarify your intention of the kiss. “That was just a friendly kiss, right? Just so that you could get good luck this year?” 

Namjoon’s grin grew wider and nodded. “Yeah, just a friendly kiss.” He understood why you asked the question and felt the same way about you; just friends. 

. . .

It was the next morning. The first morning of the new year. You were awake at 7 in the morning with Jungkook. You were slightly hungover but luckily you had remembered to take Tylenol and drink water when you had arrived home at two in the morning.

Taehyung and Jimin would be arriving home in an hour and Jungkook had asked you to help freshen up the apartment with him. Strangely, Jungkook had barely said a word to you all morning. Just a gruff “good morning”. 

“What’s gonna be your excuse when they see you home already? You gonna say you came home last night or something?” You asked, as you were fluffing the couch pillows. Jungkook shrugged. “I guess so. I got nothing else to come up with. I’ll say I came home right before midnight.”

“Yeah, that’s smart.” You nodded. 

Jungkook continued to sweep the floor in silence. You could sense that something was up with him. He was avoiding eye-contact with you and you felt as if he was purposely physically distancing himself from you. “You okay? Hungover or something?” You asked. 

Jungkook snorted at that. “You forget that I have a way higher tolerance than you, ___.” “Right, I completely forgot you’re the king of alcohol, my bad.” You rolled your eyes. 

Jungkook was starting to feel bad that he was being moody with his hot and cold emotions towards you. He didn’t want to continue his toxic habit of giving you the cold shoulder and taking his feelings out on you. He wanted to try and actually treat you like the friend you are to him. 

“Are you back together with Namjoon?” He finally decides to ask. You swivel your head to his direction and feel yourself become speechless. 

“I saw you with him last night. You guys seemed friendly.” He continued to say, without looking at you as he swept the floor.

You mentally debated with yourself. Did he deserve to know or care? He wasn’t even that close with Namjoon. Did he see you two share the kiss? 

“He found me at the party and asked me to hear his explanation as to why he ghosted me. I decided to forgive him.” 

Jungkook nodded, still feeling unsure. He wasn’t sure if he was okay with you surrounding yourself with people like Namjoon, from the perspective of a friend and the perspective of a man who knows how other men operate.

“Well, what was the reason?” He asked. You instantly got reminded of the fact that Jimin was behind the reason as to why he flaked on the date. 

You felt your face turn pale and cold from the anxiety and confusion. You still can’t pinpoint on why Jimin would go out of his way to sabotage a situation that he encouraged to start in the first place? Did Jimin have bad intentions against you? You didn’t know if you should confess to Jungkook and if you did, would he even believe you? Would he gaslight you and claim that Namjoon was making it up and that you were being too gullible? However, you felt that if anyone would truly understand where Jimin was coming from, it would be either Jungkook or Taehyung. 

“It’s gonna sound crazy…like really fucking crazy. But he explained to me that he was told by Jimin to not go on that date with me.” 

Jungkook shared a similar wave of confusion wash over his face. His eyebrows furrowed furiously with his pink and plush lips gaped open slightly. “Yeah, weird right? I can’t pinpoint a single fucking reason as to why Jimin would go out of his way to do that. I can’t think of anything that's valid enough to hijack a date that he knew I was looking forward to. Especially since he was the one who got us to get to know each other at the Halloween party.” 

Jungkook agreed with you. He couldn’t think of anything as well. “Just ignore it, ___. I’m sure Jimin did it for an urgent reason. Forget I even asked about it.” He tried to reassure you. His eyes darted over the clock that was placed on the wall, hinting that Jimin and Taehyung’s arrival is coming near; about less than thirty minutes from now. 

“But–,” 

“If I hear anything from Jimin’s perspective, I’ll be sure to let you know, okay? I think the place looks clean enough. Thanks for helping.” He gives you a forced smile and nods curtly. 

You decide to go along with Jungkook’s suggestion for the time being. You could tell that Jungkook is trying to avoid the topic. He had a cloud of tense aura surrounding him. After being acquainted with Jungkook for some time now, you knew when and when not to press his buttons. 

“Alright…just text me when the boy’s arrive. I’m gonna go shower real quick.” You leave before he could respond. 

Jungkook sits on one of the reclining chairs and simply stares at the wall. He gets lost into his thoughts about possible reasons as to why Jimin would sabotage your date. He has this uncomfortable feeling brewing in his gut. It was as if Jungkook’s gut knew the answer but he mentally could not pinpoint it for the life of him. He didn’t like how much he was bothered by this new information. 

Jungkook let out a heavy breath and felt conflicted with himself. He knew that he wanted to intervene but also he knew that he shouldn’t. Nothing in this situation required his immediate attention at all. But something in him compelled his need for action. He needed to know and he needed to know now. He needed to help you get closure for this. Thirty minutes suddenly felt like thirty hours. The seconds were going agonizingly slow. 

“What’s up, Kook?” He heard his brother’s voice through the speaker of his phone. “Huh?” He said.

“You…you just called me?” Taehyung said, with confusion laced in his tone. Jungkook was in his head about this that he didn’t realize he had unconsciously called Taehyng just to see how far away he was from home. 

“Right, s-sorry. I must’ve butt-dialed you.” Jungkook hung up immediately. He felt pathetic. He felt as if he was beginning to go crazy with the way he was so pressed about this. Jungkook decided to go and cook a quick breakfast to welcome Jimin and Taehyung in order to distract himself and to make time go by faster. 

During the cook prep and the actual cooking time, thoughts and possible explanations as to why Jimin would force Namjoon to ditch the date plagued his mind: Did Jimin suddenly find out something was wrong with Namjoon? Was he toxic? Did he have an infamous cheating history? Was he protecting you from something? Something so serious that he had to stop the date from happening? 

His blabbering thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. He was welcomed to the sight of Jimin and Taehyung stumbling inside the apartment with their heavy luggages. 

“Kook?” Jimin grinned. He jumped into his arms and embraced him tightly. “Kook, what are you doing here!” Jimin placed his hands onto his shoulder and pulled him back into another embrace. 

“We thought you weren’t gonna be back until tomorrow?” Taehyung didn’t look as shocked as Jimin. He appeared to be genuinely confused and in utter shock. 

“Well, I-”

The sound of your squeal interrupted Jungkook’s explanation. “You guys are back!” You jumped into Taehyung’s arms, launching him enough for him to almost fall backwards. “What a nice welcome.” Taehyung chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist. He felt his heart soaring at the fact that you immediately ran to him first and welcomed him in such a wholesome way. 

Jimin chuckled to himself at the sight and shook his head. “Where’s my hug?” He fake-pouted. You pulled yourself away from Taehyung’s embrace and pulled into Jimin’s arms, a bit hesitant. Jimin didn’t sense your reluctant energy that was obviously oozing out—at least in Jungkook’s perspective. 

“I’ve missed you too, Jimin!” You smiled at him. Jimin ruffled your semi-wet hair and pulled you back into a side hug. “Tell me everything. Tell me how your entire week has been without us three.” 

You nervously darted your eyes towards Jungkook for a second before clearing your throat. “It was great, y’know? Got some real needed alone time and spent Christmas and New Year’s with Hoseok, as you already know. Other than that, I had a good time. I’ve missed you guys like crazy.” You tried to steer the conversation away from your so-called “alone time”. 

Jimin turned his attention back to Jungkook. “Right, we completely forgot to continue our conversation. When did you come home? Like Tae said, we thought you weren’t gonna be back til at least tomorrow?” Jungkook wasn’t nervous nor was he scared to lie to them. 

“I came home last night around 9-ish. Yeri’s family went to celebrate the New Year’s with family in the area so I decided to come home that same night.” Jungkook said. He darted his eyes between Jimin and Taehyung to see if they believed a single thing he said. Jimin was nodding his head, as if he didn't doubt him. 

When Jungkook moved his eyes to Taehyung, he seemed bothered. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his eyes were a chilling almost-black color. “So did you spend New Year’s with Yeri’s other family as well?” Taehyung asked. 

Jungkook paused. He didn’t bother to look at you because he knew that you were already looking at him, eagerly seeing what he would say. Would he tell the truth or would he lie again?

“No, I spent New Year’s with ___.” He said. 

There was a brief silence between the brothers. It was a silence that only the two of them could feel. As if they were the only ones who could feel the sudden tension brewing between them. 

Jimin could tell that Taehyung was bothered at the fact that you and Jungkook spent the night together unknowingly. He didn’t really get why Taehyung would feel bothered at that since everyone knows that you and Jungkook would never get along no matter what, right? Assumingly, the night was spent with unstoppable bickering and negative tension. 

“You didn’t spend it with Yeri?” Taehyung asked again. Jungkook shook his head. “She wanted to spend it with family and well, I…wanted to accompany ____.” He said. Taehyung’s Adam-apple bobbed up and down. 

“Right,” He started off. “I’m glad you kept each other company.” Taehyung looked between you and Jungkook and reached for his luggage. “Breakfast smells amazing, Kook. I’m gonna go settle my things in my room and come back out to eat.” Taehyung rolled his luggage away from the kitchen and headed towards his bedroom. 

You could tell that something was off with Taehyung. His entire mood did a whole 180. “Let’s eat, guys.” You suggested, to ease the tension that was beginning to affect you and Jimin as well.

The breakfast between the four quickly aided to resume the usual comfortable vibe with everyone. Jimin and Taehyung filled you and Jungkook in on how their week went in more detail. Their Christmas and New Year’s went by smoothly, they talked about the horrendous bruise that Taehyung got from straining his calves during a pilates session with Jungkook’s mother, how Jimin got along surprisingly well with Taehyung’s father’s golfing buddies, and all the girl’s numbers that Jimin and Taehyung received from their secret nights out clubbing. You shared in every detail how you spent your week except you left out the minor fact that Jungkook had been with you throughout all of those events: the wine nights, the holiday market stroll, watching Christmas movies till you knocked out, et cetera. Jungkook was with you throughout all of that. 

The recollection of all those memories as you were sharing them made you unconsciously smile from ear to ear as you blabbered on. You didn’t realize how nice it was to have had Jungkook’s presence with you the entire time. In fact, it made you feel as if you got to know him better in a more intimate and vulnerable way. You were able to fully get along and connect as people, as roommates, as friends. You no longer view Jungkook as the handsome stranger that you just randomly harbored a crush on for years. You knew him as your anti-social yet dorky and nerdy roommate who lived in the bedroom next to yours that had a great taste in music, is a phenomenal cook, a person who loves to provide acts of service for those he cares about, is a genuinely intelligent person when it comes to the books but not so smart when it comes to real-life and its complex problems and people. All of that and more made you start to love Jungkook not in a romantic way but as a person. As a friend.

Breakfast wrapped up nicely, with Taehyung claiming that he needed to take a nap or else “he would die”. You decided to go back into your bedroom and catch up on your current read of the month. “Do you guys need help cleaning?” You asked Jimin and Jungkook. “We’re all good here, ___. Thanks for asking.” Jimin smiled softly at you. You returned the smile, ignoring the slight discomfort as you made eye-contact with him. 

After breakfast, Jungkook had volunteered to help Jimin clean up. He decided that this would be the best way to corner Jimin and get him to spill the truth as to why he sabotaged your date with Namjoon. He tried his best to just not give a single fuck about this but he truly couldn’t. Something was gnawing at his gut to fulfill the need to know what happened. 

The two were at the sink; Jimin was washing and Jungkook was drying. 

“So, did you enjoy your stay with Yeri and her family?” Jimin asked. Jungkook nodded. “It was alright.” He said. 

“Do you see yourself getting serious with her? Like full commitment?” Jimin looked at him, giving him a cheeky grin. Jungkook snorted at that. “Slow down there. I don’t even take myself seriously, what makes you think I’ll take someone else seriously?” Jimin chuckled at him. “It wouldn’t kill you if you actually had feelings for someone, Kook. It’s okay to allow yourself to feel sometimes.” 

Jungkook ignored him. “How are things going with you?” Jungkook changed the subject. Jimin chuckled again, aware that Jungkook was purposely avoiding the topic. “I’ve been okay. Going back to Busan made me realize how confident I am in my decision to drop school and move in with you guys for the time being. Busan is not for me right now.” Jungkook nodded understandably. “I know we’ve said this a million times but you can stay for as long as you’d like. We love having you here.” Jungkook said. Jimin smiled at that. 

Jungkook was having trouble coming up with a way to nonchalantly bring up the topic. “How was the New Year’s party? Did you hang with Yoongi the entire night?” Jimin asked. Jungkook mentally thanked Jimin for bringing up the party as it can lead to the perfect segway to mention Namjoon’s appearance at the party. 

“I did, actually. You know me too well. Yoongi’s my only friend.” Jungkook fake-chuckled. “Did ___ have a good time? At least from what you saw?” Jungkook’s immediate thought was the memory of you and Namjoon in conversation. 

“I think so. She was with Hoseok and his friends the whole night,” He started off. He decided it was a good time to mention Namjoon now. “I saw her with Kim Namjoon too.” He finally said. 

Jimin stopped washing a cup that was in his hand. He paused for a second but remained avoiding eye-contact with Jungkook. “Namjoon was there?” He asked. 

“Yeah, I guess word spread real fast about Yoongi’s and Hoseok’s party.”

Jimin nodded slowly. He didn’t know what to say. “___ and Namjoon were talking?” He asked again.

“Yes. It was an odd sight to see. From what I remember, Namjoon ghosted her after a planned date, right? At least that’s what Taehyung told me. He told me not to mention Namjoon in front of ____ anymore out of concern that it would bother her.” Jungkook continued. 

Jimin managed to look at Jungkook. “Uh, yeah, he did ghost her.” 

Jungkook was debating whether or not to bite the bullet. “Huh,” He said. 

“Do you happen to know why he would do such a thing?” He finally asked. Jimin’s face turned slightly pale. If there was one thing Jungkook knew about Jimin after a decade of friendship, it was that Jimin was a terrible liar, especially under pressure. He breaks easily.

“I have no idea. That’s something Tae and I have been wondering too.” He stuttered slightly. Jimin’s sudden change in demeanor confirmed to Jungkook that Jimin for sure had something to do with the sudden ghosting of Namjoon. Namjoon wasn’t lying to you after all.

Jungkook suddenly felt confident enough to continue pressuring Jimin into telling him the truth now that Jimin was vulnerable enough to crack. 

“Huh. That’s weird.” Jungkook was fake-pondering. Jimin shared a confused glare. “What do you mean?” 

Jungkook shrugged. “I mean, I heard something weird from ___, that’s all.” Jimin turned even paler. The water from the faucet was still running and Jimin was holding the same mug from earlier in his hands. 

“What did she say?” Jimin asked, with his voice getting low. Jungkook confidently gave Jimin a firm stare. His eyes darkening and his amused mood from earlier was dispersing into a somber glare. 

“That you told Namjoon not to go on the date.” 

Jimin remained silent. His silence confirmed it all. 

He remained speechless for another moment before suddenly turning off the sink. His wet hands gripped onto Jungkook’s wrist and he pulled him to the front door. “Let’s take this outside.” He muttered under his breath. 

He dragged him outside of the apartment before softly shutting the door. Jungkook wasn’t scared nor confused. He was eager to hear what Jimin had to say. 

“Explain exactly what she said.” Jimin looked afraid and helpless. His eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were gleaming with fear and anxiety. 

Jungkook sighed. “According to ___, Namjoon approached her at the party and apologized for not going on the date. He blamed it on you. ___ told me that Namjoon told her it was your doing as to why she got ghosted.” Jungkook explained. 

Jimin ran his sweaty fingers through his hair. “Listen, Kook. I have a good reason as to why I did that. I didn’t do it out of malicious intent towards ____ whatsoever. But I can’t tell you nor can ___ know too. I really can’t.” Jimin pleaded. 

Jungkook shook his head. “Look, I know ___ and I aren’t the bestest of friends but I can feel how confused, shocked, and hurt she is. Imagine finding out that one of her good friends was behind the reason as to why her date got ruined. Especially by the same friend that set her up with the guy in the first place.” Jungkook reasoned. “I don’t know if you noticed but ____ has been a bit distant from you ever since you came back home. I don’t want either of us to live in this kind of uncomfortable environment.” Jungkook continued.

Jimin took a moment to absorb everything Jungkook said. He felt extremely conflicted between doing what he should or shouldn’t do. 

“Do you know if Namjoon told her anything else?” Jimin asked. Jungkook scoffed. “Is that all you care about?” 

“Just tell me, Jungkook.” Jimin snapped. 

After a moment, Jungkook shook his head. “That’s all she and I know.”

Jimin placed his hands onto Jungkook’s shoulders. “Listen to me Kook. What I’m about to tell you, you have to swear and promise me that you are not going to tell a single soul about this, okay?”

Jungkook was suddenly nervous. He didn’t know exactly how to prepare himself for the information he was about to receive. 

“I want to promise that but it really depends on what it is, Jimin. If I think it’s something ___ should know about then I’ll tell her.” 

Jimin shook his head. “I swear to you that this is something that ___ shouldn’t know about. At least for now.”

Jungkook cocked his head to the side, out of confusion. “What is it, Jimin?”

Jimin continued to mentally debate with himself for another minute or so. He kept running his fingers through his hair and letting out exasperated sighs over and over again. 

“No one else knows this, okay? Not even Namjoon,” He starts off. Jungkook was listening patiently.

“I…I told him not to go on that date because of Taehyung.” Jimin says. Jungkook’s entire stomach dropped. “What do you mea-”

“Because… of Taehyung.” He repeats. “Because Taehyung likes ___.” 

Jungkook felt as if he had dissociated from reality for a second. Was this real? Was what Jimin said real? Was he in a dream? “What?” Was all he could bring himself to say.

“Taehyung is in love with ___.” 

[moody-alcoholic]

These Violent Delights

Chapter 7 - Kamikaze love

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe 7.1k words. A nice easy heat that's what everyone could use, no interruptions, just a few days of mindless sex and some time to relax.

CW: MDNI +18 explicit content. a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes (heat, knotting, claiming), gaslighting, brief mentions of needles, hurt/comfort, angst, sex, PiV sex, fingering, knotting, brief mentions of blood, alcohol.

AN: Heat time baby, the best part of every a/b/o fic amiright. I honestly don't know who had more fun with this chapter me writing it or @rememberwren editing it. XD

Previous - masterlist -next AO3

Enjoy <3

You wake in John’s bed with a pit in your stomach. You’re hungry but your head feels fuzzy, and you’re not quite aware. You need to see Dr. Miller to get your last shot, because with the way you feel, you’re pretty sure your heat will be tomorrow. John is not in the room but you can smell him, the scent goes straight to your head making your body tingle as you pull yourself out of the bed. 

You go to your room changing into something comfy and heading to the lab. No one is around. You’re not sure what time it is. You're cold, colder than normal when you step out into the fresh air. Shivers run up and down your body and you pull your arms around your chest. When you get to the lab the place is empty. Dr. Piper's office door is open and you go over to look. She’s not in there. You turn to head up the stairs when the door opens behind you. 

“Hey,” Dr. Miller says. You turn to see him with a coffee in his hands. His nostrils flare, you must still smell of sex. All you can smell in the air is alpha. It makes your head spin and you bump into a table. Your body is moving towards him without you thinking. You miss John, you need him right now. 

“I think my heat might start tomorrow,” you say as he walks past you. The smell of his alpha makes your mouth water as an ache forms in your stomach.

“Let’s get this done quickly then,” he says, and you follow him over to a desk. 

“Where is everyone?” you ask as you take your jacket off. 

“Did you not hear? General Shepherd is making a decision on what’s going to happen, with you, the base, 141, everything. He fired almost all the staff. It’s just a skeleton crew and scientists,” he explains as you roll your sleeve up. Why does this feel like it’s your fault? 

“What do you think he’s going to say?” 

“I heard some things from the other scientists.” His hand is cold on your skin. 

“What did you hear?” you ask, watching as he prepares the needle. 

“Well there are a lot of people here who still support Professor Hale’s vision. Not everyone wants a cure,” he says, and you nod. You’re not even sure if you want a cure, but you’ll go wherever your pack goes. 

“He did love you, you know,” Dr. Miller says pulling your sleeve down. You look at him, confused. You can’t think straight right now. His alpha is too strong in the air and it’s making you woozy. 

“Professor Hale,” he says. 

“He had a funny way of showing it,” you scoff.

“Well, some would call it tough love. You weren't exactly the most well behaved omega.” He smiles, rolling away on his stool. “Besides, people do horrible things for the people they love. Look at your pack, they’ll kill for you if they had to. They have killed for you.” You look at him, now you’re even more confused. Who have they killed for you?

“Do you think I should go back to the Professor? I know it would make their lives easier,” you say, a wave of guilt coming over you. You don’t want to be a burden to them. Dr. Miller is right, you’re not the best omega, you definitely pushed the Professor’s buttons from time to time. You stand up off the stool, but your legs feel like jelly and you have to brace yourself on the table. 

“I think you should do what's best for your pack. Sometimes that means making tough choices, choices we don’t like.” 

You nod, he smiles at you before turning back to his laptop.

“What do I do now?” you ask.

“I’ll see you again after your heat.” He smiles. You nod. Your head is pounding now. The shiver running up and down your body feels electric, and you can smell honey in the air.

“Do you think the hormone blocker will work?” you ask.

“We’ll see.” He nods and you sigh, leaving the building. The cool air makes your already foggy head spin more. You can still smell his alpha. You’re stumbling down the path thinking back to what he said. The Professor loved you? He had a funny way of showing it.

You stop in your tracks half way back to the barracks. There are dark clouds moving in, and it’s probably going to rain again. You can’t go back to the barracks. You need to think; you need a clear mind. 

You can’t do that when all you can smell in the building is alpha. Just thinking about John and the time you spent together yesterday has your body throbbing. You head in a different direction, and before you know where you’re really going you’ve found yourself in the abandoned building you were doing training in a few days ago. You don’t even remember walking here. Your head is stuffy, making you dizzy as you walk through back into the upstairs room with the wooden desk. 

You don’t know how many hours have passed but the sky looks different, and your body is stiff as you’re leaning against the desk. Your limbs feel heavy, and the pit in your stomach has turned into a burn. You shiver as a breeze blows through the open window, it stings your cheeks.

You bring your hand up to feel, and they’re wet. You've been crying. You can’t remember what happened. You were with the doctor, then you ended up here. You focus on remembering what you talked to him about, but your mind is drawing a blank, and all you feel is sadness and guilt.

The Professor. He wants you back, and there's a man here to take you. Dr. Miller was right, people do stupid things for the people they love. Love? Do you love John, or is it just because you’re a pack? Thinking about John makes the ache burn inside you deeper than anything you’ve felt before.

You can’t think straight remembering his scent, leather, the ground after rain. You look out the window watching the sky and you can hear the rain starting to fall and the distant rumble of thunder. You need more time to think. You lean back on the desk, closing your eyes. 

“Found her.” The smell of alpha hits your nose hard and fast. You’re shivering as you see Simon walk into your view. You look at him confused and dizzy as you try to focus on him. He calls your name, bending down in front of you. Your body is stiff, legs numb. His hand shakes your shoulder. You don’t know what to say. There’s throbbing deep in your core as his scent overwhelms you, all you can smell is alpha. 

“Alpha,” you whine reaching out for him, his eyes twinkling in the low light. The sky is full of shades of pink and orange. You project your scent out but all you can smell is honey, you can taste it in the air.

His eyes go wide and he stands back up as another set of footsteps come into the room. You smell beta now, heavy, cutting through your scent. It’s Johnny who kneels down in front of you. 

“Hey lass, gave us a right scare you did.” He smiles, reaching out and hooking his arm around you, pulling you to your feet. Your legs feel like jelly and as soon as you go to take a step you stumble. Johnny’s arm stays tight around you though, keeping you steady as you slowly walk out the building. 

“Is the General going to take me away?” you ask, your throat dry. 

“Never, is that what you’ve been worried about? Is that why you hid?” he asks. You shake your head. You watch as Simon, who had been walking in front of you, stops at the entrance to the barracks. 

“I’ll go, tell Price I'll talk to him later.” Johnny nods at him then helps you up the steps into the building. As soon as you get in you’re hit with what feels like a million senses at once. The building is warm and your cold body almost immediately starts to shiver. You can smell worry in the air and alpha. It’s stronger than Simon, and it immediately has your head pounding. 

Then there are the voices. Dr. Piper and John get up off the table coming over to you, but you can’t hear what they’re saying. Between the throbbing headache and the shakes you’re struggling to focus. Dr. Piper's cold hands come to your face, and the shock causes you to take in a deep breath clearing your head. 

“You’re burning up hun, how are you feeling?” she asks. You don’t know what to say. Your eyes move over to John, he's standing behind her with his arms crossed. 

“Alpha,” you call out to him reaching for him, your body moving before you realise it. Dr. Piper moves out the way as your hand stretches out, and he takes a step forward and Johnny transfers you into his arms. 

“Si said he’ll catch up with you later,” Johnny says. You close your eyes, letting John’s scent relax you. 

“She needs to take a shower, it’ll bring her fever down,” Dr. Piper says. You project your scent into the air, honey and strawberries. It makes you smile. 

“Is it her heat?” John asks, swallowing hard.

“The early stages, yes, but she’s got herself worked up for some reason. It’s important she stays calm and we get this fever under control. Stay with her, the last thing we need is her running off again. I will talk to Lieutenant Riley,” you hear Dr. Piper say as John peel's you off his chest. 

“Thank you,” John says, turning towards the bathroom. You hear Johnny and Dr. Piper leave. 

“You had us worried, you can’t just wander off like that, what if you got hurt?” he says. 

“I’m sorry,” you reply. You’re just happy to be near him. He sighs, leading you towards the bathroom. You feel like you're floating as you strip your clothes making your way over to the showers. You turn it up hot letting the water soak you.

You can still feel a chill in the air when you feel John step up behind you. His scent fills your nose and it immediately relaxes you as you lean against him. He holds you up as he reaches over, turning the temperature of the shower down. 

“It’s cold,” you protest.

“It’s not cold, you have a fever,” he says, pressing you further into the shower so the water can run over your whole body. 

“What are you worried about?” he asks. You sigh, you can’t remember. 

“Worried about the heat,” you mumble, turning in his arms.

“Nothing to be worried about,” he says as you try to nuzzle your face in his neck, his scent is going straight to your head. It's been so long since you’ve had anything you can call a ‘normal’ heat. Maybe this is normal, you feel like you just want to cling onto John and never let go. His hands run up your arms and he moves you back a little, the water is cold on your burning skin. 

“You’ll be fine, I'll take care of you. We all will.” His hand comes up to your face, his thumb brushes your chin as he pulls your face up to look at him. 

He leans down and kisses you, it's slow and soft and makes your whole body tingle. The ache is burning inside you now, all you can smell in the air is honey. He breaks away, turning you around, forcing you to stay in the shower until you’ve cooled down.

He leaves to bring you clean clothes and pajamas. You’re tired when you leave, following John blindly as you dry yourself and change. He leads you into his room. You don’t need to be told anything, you just climb into bed. He doesn’t even have time to get into bed with you. You fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow.

Your body is burning. 

Sweat has made your pajamas and hair stick to you. Each point of contact burns. You grip your top trying to pull it off your chest, anything to give you a break from the overstimulation. John is not in the bed, but you can smell him. You need him. Before you know it you’re kicking the bedding off. Your thighs rub together trying anything to quell the ache throbbing between your legs. 

It doesn’t work though, too much slick, there’s no friction even as you pull your sodden shorts and underwear off. John could be working, it could be hours before he’s back, your top brushes your nipples as you turn in the bed causing you to moan out. You grip it, pulling it off over your head. It takes you more effort than you thought and you have to lay back down panting as you catch your breath. 

When you can move again you roll to the other side of the bed rubbing your legs together. You can smell him on his pillow which just makes the pain worse. You roll again but this time you misjudge the distance and you roll off the bed. Your head slams painfully on the floor. You cry out, trying to prop yourself up.

The room door opens and it makes you jump pulling your body into the fetal position. You can smell the alpha in the air. It must be John in the doorway, but you’re too confused to tell, still trying to comprehend how you ended up on the floor. 

You hear him call Dr. Piper. Definitely John. You relax, going back to prop yourself up so you can make your way over to him. You need him, you need to feel him, you want him inside you. 

“Alpha,” you call as another figure walks into the room. There’s a strong smell of beta now. You look up through your hazy eyes seeing Dr. Piper bend down in front of you. She presses her cold hands on your cheeks. She doesn't say anything, just brushes the hair stuck to your forehead. 

“Present for your alpha,” Dr. Piper says as she stands back up. The words are familiar to your ears. Your body is already moving, pressing your face and chest into the floor. You thrust your hips up, slick dripping down your thighs, you’re desperate to feel his hands on you, desperate for him to be inside you.

“Please alpha,” you whine, projecting your scent into the room. Dr. Piper knows she can’t stick around for too long. As soon as John gives in he’ll become aggressive to anyone who isn’t his pack.  

“Don’t be afraid to hurt her,” she says

“I’m not going to hurt her.”

“She won't remember.” 

“I don’t care.”

“She needs you, she’ll do whatever it takes to get you,” Dr. Piper sighs, backing up. 

“I’m not going to hurt her,” John repeats. You don't care about him hurting you or not. You need him.

“Don’t think about it too much, your body knows what to do,” she says, taking a step back to the door. “The betas will be in to check on you both.”

John is almost not listening, watching as you back up towards him. Your scent is thick in the air, sweet, so sweet it has John’s mouth watering. 

“Please alpha,” you call again. You can smell him in the air. You know he’s near, you need the pain to stop, you need his knot. You’re being a good omega waiting for him and presenting yourself. You feel his hand rest on the bottom of your back and it sends shivers up your spine. His hand travels down to squeeze your ass. Yes yes , his warm hand is on you, you back up more for him moaning into the floor. His scent is strong in the air now, alpha on full display. 

“On the bed.” His voice is low, rumbling from the back of his throat. You follow his instructions climbing up on the bed and laying down. You’re rubbing your thighs together trying to get any sort of friction but there’s no release. 

“Alpha,” you whine. “Please.” 

Your scent is strong in the air but so is his, and it fills your nose just making you more desperate. You arch your back calling out for him again. You can see him in your haze, you know he’s there. He’s taking his clothes off pulling his shirt over his head and stepping out his shoes.

Your eyes scan over him, the fuzziness dispersing for a few seconds as you take in his bare skin. You hear his belt drop to the floor. He’s completely naked now. Your mouth fills with saliva and you lick your lips. You want to reach out and feel him but he leans over you, his hands finding your face.

“I’ve got you.” His pupils dilate as one of his hands runs down your body to your clit. It’s almost too much, and you almost cum just from the brief contact. You can only smell him in the air now, it’s overwhelming, making you dizzy as his hand rests on your abdomen.

His lips meet yours. You’re drinking him up, he tastes amazing, his tongue pressing against yours. He pulls away from the kiss, and you moan in protest, your lips tingling from the lack of contact.

You reach out for him and he sits you up climbing into the bed and kneeling down behind you. He scoops his hands under your armpits pulling you up against his chest as he leans back on the headboard. You can feel his cock between your legs, you want to reach down and grab it, squirming in his arms as he rests you down on his knees. 

“Alpha,” you breathe, one of his hands moving down to your clit. His cock twitches, and it makes you whimper. You want it, to feel it, you want it to be inside of you. His breath is hot in your ear as he shushes you.

You tip your head back moaning as he coats his fingers in your slick. He presses his fingers into you and you clench around him, his fingers feel good but his cock would be better. You need his knot, you need him to fill you up.

“Alpha, I need you,” you say, but it just makes him push his fingers into you deeper, his tongue running along your neck. 

“What do you need?” he growls. His alpha is on full display, you let it fill your nose, making your mouth water. 

“Need your knot.” His fingers leave you and you gasp as he presses them onto your clit. You moan, arms reaching out to grip the bedding. You’re so sensitive it only takes a few seconds before you’re cumming on his hand. More slick gushes out as you feel his cock twitch as he moves, covering his fingers in your slick. 

The wet sounds of him pumping his cock isn’t helping quell the ache. You lean forward so he can line himself up with your entrance easier. You bend right over, pressing your hands down on the bed. One of his hands stays around your waist holding you in position as he slowly presses into you. The relief is instantaneous, and you let out a long moan as stars appear in your vision.

You’re almost not paying attention to anything but the satisfaction of having your alpha filling you up. You clench around him, his hands gripping around your stomach pulling you back against him. You didn't think he could go deeper but he does as he grips you tighter to his body. He moves you like you weigh nothing as you moan for him, letting your scent fill the air. 

“Such a good omega,” he breathes, his lips running over your neck. It makes you shiver, and the thought of him claiming you makes you clench around him again. He moans, his breath hot on your neck as he bucks his hips into you. 

“Alpha—” You’re going to cum, it’s too much. You don’t have time to warn him as you cum around him, slick gushing out as he throbs inside you. 

“Christ, love,” he says through gritted teeth. The smell of leather is filling the air now, and it makes you dizzy as you come down from the orgasm. A second later you’re desperate again. There’s no relief, you need his knot, it's the only thing that will make the pain stop. 

“Need your knot alpha,” you beg. You don’t wait for him, fucking yourself on his cock as he pants behind you. His hands move up from your hips to your breasts pinching your nipples.

“Yes, yes,” whatever you need to say to get his knot. After a few more seconds his hands grip your hips again as he takes over for you pulling you up and down on him. His nose is nuzzled into your neck. You know he’s going to claim you, his tongue running over your scent gland as he breathes you in.

He moans, pressing little kisses on your neck as you bounce on him. You’re not thinking, you can’t. Knot, knot, it’s all you want. Be a good omega and let him take you, when you’ve done a good enough job you’ll get his knot. Everything feels too good and not enough at the same time. 

“You going to be a good omega and let me claim you? Make you mine?” His voice is rumbling, feral in your ear. You’ve never heard him like this before, it makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck as you breathe him in, getting drunk off his scent. You couldn’t say no even if you wanted to. Your nails dig into your thighs.

“Yes alpha, I want to be your omega.” The response is almost automatic. He hums into your neck, his cock driving into you faster. He’s close again, you can tell, the pheromones in the air are lulling you out, and you don’t know how much more you can take before you’re not aware anymore. Then it happens. His tongue traces up to your scent gland, and you tip your head forward as his teeth sink into you. You yelp in pain. Your whole body tingles, and then you black out. 

You come to a few seconds later, pain throbbing at the base of your skull. 

“You okay?” he asks, supporting your body against his chest. You nod, your mouth feeling suddenly dry. Your adrenaline is spiked, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You relax back into his arms. You can’t tell if you feel different or not. You can feel the blood trickling down your back. The wound will already be healing and closing up. 

You want to touch it, to feel the indents his teeth will have created. You don’t get a chance. He maneuvers your body down onto the bed. You feel empty, the adrenaline wearing off and the ache coming back. Everything will go hazy soon, so you enjoy the feeling of being aware of what’s going on around you as John pulls you into his arms. 

After a few minutes things are starting to get hazy again. The burning is back, the ache deep in your core. You need him, need his knot. You’re backing up against him, and you feel his hard cock pressing against you. His hand comes down, his fingers running over your entrance. You gasp as he pushes two fingers in, and you tighten round them, letting him press against your g-spot. It’s not enough though.

“You feel so good, such a good omega. Perfect omega,” he says into your ear. It makes a warmth bubble up inside you. You moan at the praise, his fingers working faster. Before you know it you’re cumming around him. You pant as he sucks on your neck, his tongue brushing past your mark. It sends tingles all down your spine. You’re his omega now, and he’s your alpha. His scent is strong, his fingers still working inside you. He’s not going to stop until you’re cumming again and you don’t care. You’re being a good omega for him, and then he will give you his knot. 

“Please—” you beg. He hums, taking his fingers out and pressing them on your clit. You moan. Your body shakes as he rubs your swollen sensitive bud until you’re cumming again on his hand. Your body shakes as he works you through the orgasm. The smell of leather hits your nose as you push up against him. This time he gives you what you want, lining himself up with your entrance. 

“Please, John. I need you.” You are begging again, but you don’t really care. You’re desperate for him. His hands keep your hips in place as he pushes inside of you. You feel so full clenching around him as he drives into you. 

“Such a good omega, my omega,” he growls into your ear. Warmth blooms inside you, you are his omega. 

“Your omega,” you purr as his fingers dig into your hips. The repetitive movements of John bucking his hips into you are making your head spin. You’re getting close and this time you need his knot. 

“I need your knot alpha,” you beg. 

“You can have my knot, you’ve been such a good omega,” his voice is grumbling as he nips at your neck. It sends shivers down your spine as his tongue traces your mark. You relax for him, letting him move you however he wants to. You lay there as he wraps his arms around you pressing you against him.

You bring your legs up which makes him feel tighter inside you. His thrusts become longer and deeper, hitting a new spot inside that you’ve never felt before. When you cum around him you see fucking stars he moans and he kisses your neck, pulling your hips down as he cums. He’s throbbing inside you as fills you up. 

“Such a good girl, good omega,” he pants into your neck. He kisses the mark he left. You finally feel satisfied, his knot inside you. You relax up against him as he reaches down pulling the duvet over you. You hum. You want to thank him but you don’t have the energy. You close your eyes letting out a sigh as his arms wrap around you. It won’t be long before you’re asleep.  

It’s 12 hours since your heat has started, and Kyle stands outside John’s room. He knows he has to be careful, he needs to get at least some water into John without startling you, and he needs to check your mark— if John has claimed you. Dr. Montgomery did say it could happen on the second day. The noises from the room had settled down a few hours ago, and it seemed like a better time than any to check. He opens the door slowly. Your scent is heavy in the air. The whole building smells of honey, sweet strawberries and leather. 

He walks in as quietly as he can. You and John are both asleep. You look so peaceful, John’s arms wrapped around you, your back pressed against his chest, the duvet pulled over you both. Kyle can’t tell if you’re knotted but he assumes you are.

He walks over to the pack of water bottles on the floor and takes one out before going over to John and gently shaking him awake. John opens his eyes, squinting for a few seconds before propping himself up in the bed. You moan as he moves, your scent filling Kyle's nose. John’s arm squeezes you closer. Kyle hands him a water bottle and he takes his arm off you to open it, gulping it down. 

“How do you feel?” Kyle asks. 

“Fine, how’s things out there?” he asks. 

“Nothing to report, Johnny and Simon have been keeping themselves busy.”  

“What about Shepherd?” he asks, handing the empty bottle back to Kyle.

“He went to Seattle a few hours ago, said he would be back after her heat.” 

John sighs. Kyle waits for a few seconds, handing John a protein bar. He doesn't need to worry about getting food into you for the first few days, but Johnny will need to get you to drink later. You shuffle in the bed backing up to John who moans with half the bar in his mouth. His eyes go glossy, Kyle doesn’t have long before John will be out of it again. 

“Did you claim her?” he asks. John nods. His hand comes up to the back of your neck and you stur, protesting as John’s fingers touch your neck. He shushes you gently pulling your hair out the way. Kyle wasn’t sure what he was expecting but when he looks all he can see is the indents of teeth in your skin. It’s not red or swollen which is what Dr. Montgomery told him to look out for. John puts your hair back down as you whine.

Kyle needs to leave. He's done his job and he can smell John’s scent getting stronger. John’s shushing you as Kyle leaves, carefully shutting the door as quiet as he can. He’ll update Dr. Montgomery then get some rest. It’ll probably be a few hours before you’ll be active again. 

It’s another late night. The rain is heavy and storms have been rolling in. The forecast is looking bleak for the next few days which hasn’t helped with Simon's mood. He hasn’t been able to get out much. Price didn’t leave him much work to do and with Shepherd leaving, he doesn't have any responsibilities. Johnny meets up with him around midday and updates him with how things are going. Then they either hit the gym or the range for a couple of hours. 

He can’t tell if the hormone blocker is working, but it doesn’t help that Johnny always smells of you. Strawberries and honey. It gets his heart racing. Johnny doesn’t seem to mind when the sparring session or the range training is cut short by Simon dragging Johnny into whatever room he can find. Bending him over whatever surface he sees, fucking him while he gets drunk on your lingering scent. You’re plaguing his mind.

He misses you more than he thought he would. Maybe it’s because you’re in heat and he swears he can smell you and John from his room on the other side of the base. It’s always the jealousy that gets him, knowing John claimed you and he never had a chance.

The good thing about the sleepless nights is that he knows he can always find Dr. Montgomery working late. She’s always in the lab which is the closest he will get to the barracks. Even then if he stands in the right spot he can smell you. Maybe it’s just his mind playing tricks on him or the fact that his senses seem hypertuned to pick you up, but it’s all he gets. 

Tonight is no different, sitting with Dr. Montgomery as she explains something about genetics. He likes listening to her talk, it’s a good distraction, and it makes him feel closer to you in a strange way. He knows she has to keep her distance too. She’s not part of their pack. If John senses her, he’ll get defensive, and he could end up hurting himself or you.

“How are you holding up?” she asks when she’s finished with her explanation. 

“Fine,” he lies. She hums. Maybe she can tell, but he doesn’t care and she never presses him about it. 

“The first few days are the worst, things will calm down tomorrow,” she says, sighing. It’s been two days already, a long 48 hours.  

“Getting much rest? You seem tired,” she states. 

“Plenty.” 

“Want to talk about it?” she asks. He looks at her. Her expression is soft, her green eyes look darker in the low light. She smiles at him. 

“We found Hale,” he says, looking away. She doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. 

“When? Ho—Where?” she asks, eyes wide with shock. Simon can smell fear in the air. 

“A few days ago. He’s in Seattle,” he says. 

“Seattle, that’s—he’s just over an hour away.” She’s stood up now running her hand through her hair. Simon turns to look at her. 

“Does she know?” 

“No, Price thought it was best to wait until after her heat.” 

She sighs sitting back down. 

“She’s safe here,” Simon says. 

“Is that where General Shepherd is? With Hale?” 

“We think so.”

“He could bring him here,” Dr. Montgomery says. There’s a shake in her voice. 

“It’s a possibility.” He shrugs. Dr. Montgomery scoffs. 

“You’re not very good at putting people at ease,”  she says, shaking her head. Simon watches her click through on the computer. 

“ What the hell? ” she mutters. 

“What?” He looks over at the screen. 

“Someone's scrubbed all my files.” She presses something and an error comes up. “What does that mean?” 

“You’re not high enough security level,” Simon says, scooting closer to her. “Let me.” He pulls the keyboard over to him entering his log in, but the same error pops up.

“That’s almost all the research you guys got from the bunker. Not to mention all the work we’ve been doing over the past few weeks,” she says, clicking again only for the same error. He pulls the keyboard to him again. 

“Don’t tell Price I know this.” He tries logging in with Price’s login. This time a new error pops up.

“Fuckin’ Shepherd.” 

“What does that mean?” she asks, looking at it.

“It means we need Shepherd’s permission to see it.” He leans back on the stool. 

“How the hell are we supposed to continue with research?” she asks, sounding frustrated. 

“Don’t you have a local copy?” 

“This is the local copy. Everything is saved into this weird cloud system. It sucks.” She slaps her hand on the desk. “What are we going to do?” 

“I don’t know,” he replies, watching her click away from the error. She closes the tab down. 

“Let me check what paperwork we have, at least then we can work on something.” She gets up heading to her office. Simon watches then looks back over at the computer. He logs Price out as Laswell walks into the building. 

“I was looking for you on the other side of the base. Kyle said you might be here.” She walks over to him. Dr. Montgomery walks back out of her office with a folder in her hands.

“We need to talk, there’s been a development.” Simon can tell she wants to talk alone. He looks over at Dr. Montgomery as she walks round to her spot next to him. 

“What is it?” he asks, not moving. 

“General Shepherd's new security detail for Professor Hale.” She hands him a piece of paper. It’s an email. He reads it and a pit forms in his stomach.

“Shadow Company, Graves will get his grubby hands everywhere.” He sighs standing up and handing her the paper back. “When was this sent?” 

“Couple of hours ago,” Laswell says.

“What’s Shadow Company?” Dr. Montgomery asks. He turns to look at her, thinking for a second if he should tell her or not.

“Private militia group,” he says, turning back to Laswell.

“Wait, so that means Hale's going to have his own personal army?” Dr. Montgomery asks. He doesn’t answer. This is down to him to sort out. 

“Get Gaz and Soap,” he says to Laswell. She nods leaving the room.

“Still think she's safe?” she asks. He turns to look at her, her hands on her hips. He can read the ‘I told you so’ on her face. No, she’s not safe, not any more . 

“She’s safe,” he says. She has to be.  

Professor Hale pours out two glasses of whisky as he waits for the inevitable knock on his door. Keeping on General Shepherd's good side is the most important thing right now, if he wants any chance of getting into the base.

He brings the glass up to his nose smelling the woody tones letting the strong smell of alcohol calm him. Even though he's expecting it, the knock at the door still makes him jump. He’s been on edge since reluctantly agreeing to work with the government. He still fears they will charge in and put a stop to everything. 

“Come in,” he calls. For now he has to trust them. General Shepherd walks in with another man following behind him. They could be the polar opposite of each other, one is old and fat, the other looks fit and young. 

“I’m so glad you agreed to meet with me. I didn’t know you were bringing a guest,” he says, offering him the glass. He accepts and Hale motions them both to sit down on the couch.

“This is Commander Phillip Graves. I spoke to you about him on the phone. Hopefully he can help you with your security problem,” Shepherd says, Hale reaches out to shake his hand. 

“Of course, I didn’t think the DOD would be so interested in the project.” Hale smiles, pouring another glass.  

“We’re not with the DOD. Shadow Company operates as a private militia,” Phillip explains. This is exactly what he needs. A private militia means they’re bought, not sworn, easier to get them to do what he wants. He smiles at Shepherd raising his glass and taking a sip. Shepherd follows him, as Phillip refuses the drink. 

“What is the plan then?” Hale asks. 

“The CIA are trying to keep knowledge of this project classified. The less people involved the better. I have worked with 141 in the past. I will be able to keep them out of your way while you continue your work. Our main goal is still to get you on the base. The base has been cleared, stripped to only essential personnel. Unfortunately the DOD still have not made a decision on whether or not they want to staff the base with active duty personnel,” Shepherd explains. 

“We will be able to provide you with security where you need it as well as being able to accompany you to the base when the time comes,” Phillip explains.

“I am very grateful for that. How do you plan on handling 141?” he asks.

“We’ve crossed paths before, they won’t be a problem,” Phillip says. 

“What other news is there from the base? How is the omega?” Hale asks. He needs to know. There is a burning inside him. He needs to know how his omega is. 

“She is in heat, from what I understand Captain Price is dealing with that.” Shepherd finishes his drink. Hale can tell he’s awkward about it. He sometimes forgets most people have never been exposed to this world, to his life's work. 

“Is he going to claim her?” Hale presses. 

“I believe that's the plan.” Shepherd puts his glass down on the coffee table. Anger rises in him and he drinks the rest of the whisky enjoying the way it burns his throat. He was going to claim you. You were supposed to be his omega. The thought of someone else's mark on your neck makes him infuriated.

He grips the glass harder trying to ignore the urge to snap, to give the order now to have Shepherd and Graves rush to the base to take you by force. He calms himself. He can’t go after you alone, not while you’re surrounded by special forces. He has to be smart, play the long game. 

“What about the research for a cure?” 

“Dr. Montgomery is very adamant on the fact she will be able to find one. We seized her work pending approval from the DOD and whichever medical board it’s being sent to,” Shepherd explains. Good, all the time he can get the better. “Her staff will be given the option to return to work for you as well as full immunity for past transgressions.” Maybe the only good thing that came out of his lab being destroyed is the fact it hid a lot of the things they had done. Definitely made it easier convincing the government to fund his research when the proof of ethics violations had been destroyed. 

“Hopefully we will be able to get things moving within the next few days. Until then I am sure you and Commander Graves will have plenty of time to talk,” Shepherd says, getting up as Graves follows him. Hale smiles quickly walking round them.

“I’m sure we will, I have plenty of time to discuss things tomorrow,” Hale says, shaking both their hands.

“Of course. We’ll be in touch and if there is anything you need let us know,” Shepherd says.

“Thank you,” Hale responds, following him to the door. “I’ll keep that in mind, General.” The door closes and he waits to hear Shepherd step away before locking the door. He smiles, walking over to his desk picking up the whisky and a clean glass on the way. He sits down looking across the office, pouring another glass.

He’s getting a private military company. He types the name into the search engine not expecting anything to come up but there it is. Shadow Company, Commander Phillip Graves. Hale is reading the site when his phone rings. He sees the name picking it up. 

“How was the meeting with General Shepherd, do you think he can help?” Ashford, his assistant, asks. There’s no time for pleasantries, they won’t have long to talk. 

“I think so, we might be able to move quicker than expected,” Hale says, taking a sip of his drink. “How are things on your end?” 

“Fine, Dr Montgomery is freaking out about her work being seized. The omega is in heat, Captain Price claimed her.” It's the news he didn’t want to hear but he expected it. He finishes the rest of his glass sighing. This time he lets the anger bubble up inside him. 

“Just keep your head down and gather information. Things might be moving quicker than we think.” He swallows the anger, not letting his voice falter. 

“Of course sir,” Ashford says before hanging up the phone. This is his chance. With Shepherd on his side, and now a private militia, getting the omega back might be easier than he thinks.

Next Dividers by Plum98 & gild-ui

[vampiresfromxenon]

Luscious, Succulent, Delectable

Astarion x gn! Tav/Reader

Around 2.3K words

Tags: Fluff, so much kissing, so much moaning (so so much), body (thigh) worship, consensual touching, mutual love, they are so insanely in love, slight angst, consensual biting/blood sucking, soft! Astarion, implied smut, no y/n

Summary: After a tough battle, you can’t help but fall apart in your tent, aching both inside and out. Astarion, whom you’ve recently committed to a relationship with, comes to your side to comfort you. Wanting to help you focus more on yourself and what your wants and needs are, he finds himself lost in exploring your thighs. 

~

It’s been a long day. Hells, it’s been a long life. One day you wake up on a Nautiloid ship and suddenly you’re responsible for saving not just yourself, but pretty much all of Faerûn. Lucky you, right? Life’s punching bag, here in the flesh. 

It’s not all bad, though. You’ve been met with some kindness along the way, though perhaps not as much as you feel you deserve. One of your traveling companions, however, has certainly delivered on his promises of ‘kindness’. For nights on end you two would sneak off into the woods, exploring each other’s pleasure limits, and for many, many mornings, Shadowheart was less than pleased to cure you of your bloodlessness. 

As time went on, you learned more about Astarion, your pale, vampiric friend. You had your doubts about him at first, but you had grown to love him, caring for him deeply the more you learned about his past, the more he became vulnerable around you. After a drow from Moonrise Towers was very persistent to have Astarion drink from her, and you supported him in telling her to ‘fuck off’ (but in nicer words than you’d hoped for), you found yourselves re-evaluating your situation. 

The vampire had grown to care for you, seeing much more in you than just protection. He saw something deeper, something real and fresh and… It was a bit much for him at first, but over time you both grew to be even more comfortable around each other, finding yourselves enjoying the smaller, lighter moments of intimacy that rose from being deeply in love. 

Tonight was no different, as your party returns to camp from defending Halsin’s portal in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. You were covered in blood and bruises, trudging along to your tent at a slow pace. Most party members found themselves skipping dinner, just trying to sleep off their wounds and soreness. You found yourself nearly doing the same, sitting down on a soft cushion as you remove your armor, tossing it off to the side to be cleaned and polished later. Lying on your bedroll in your night clothes, you softly sigh, your body relaxing enough to where you can feel the full extent of the trauma your body went through today. Closing your eyes, you begin to doze off, trying to forget it all and think about what a new day could bring. 

“How are you feeling?” A smooth voice asks, the flap of your tent crinkling as a figure wanders in. You wake with a start, sitting up to meet the new inhabitant of your tent. 

“I’ve never felt better. Poets could write sonnets about how at peace I feel.” You sarcastically scoff, rolling your eyes. 

Astarion grunts as he sits at your side, taking claim of the cushion you were previously on. It’s clear that today’s battle had also hit him quite hard. “I’ll be sure to sing along as they recite it.” He teases, trying to hide his discomfort. You both sit there in silence for a moment, not wanting to show a sign of weakness talking about how much your bodies ache from the day’s activities. You can’t help but break the silence first.

“I don’t know how we’re expected to do all of this. My whole body aches, I’m unsure if I’ll be able to walk properly tomorrow!” You say, exasperated.

“You carried on just fine after all those nights I left you unable to walk…” He snickers, and you playfully push at his chest. 

“I’m being serious! This is a lot of pressure, so many people are relying on us, relying on me… I just don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this.” Your eyes land in your lap.

Astarion takes a softer tone, hating to see his love in such a melancholy mood. “Darling…” He sighs, his hand resting on your thigh. You flinch a little, your legs badly bruised. He is quick to notice this, and he begins to gently massage your thigh through the fabric, hoping to bring you some comfort. 

“You take on too much. I know you want to help, it’s a damn curse that you care so much, but we have to focus on taking care of ourselves for a bit. We spend so much time helping other people that I think you forget we have that hellish tadpole behind our eyes. We don’t have much time left, but I know we have enough for you to take a break. Please, you need to rest. You can’t solve everyone’s problems, especially when you can’t solve your own.” 

You find yourself on the verge of tears, trying to take in all these words that he would have never said to you before you became close. Hearing this from him, seeing this side of him, you know he’s serious and means every single word. He notices your silence, your closed-offness from the conversation, and he gently places his fingers on your chin, tilting your head up to meet his. 

“Promise me you’ll take a break? Only focus on the tadpole stuff for a bit?” He softly asks, his eyes switching between both of yours, looking for any sign of confirmation.

“Ok…” Is all you can breathe before he leans forward to hug you, both of your bodies trembling slightly from the bruises brought on from today. He pulls from you, placing soft kisses on your cheeks before a delicate one on your lips.

“I want to help you relax.” He offers, and you nod your head, trying to follow his words of advice about taking more time for yourself. He smiles as he moves down your body, slowly removing your trousers, leaving you in just your nightshirt and underwear. He tosses them off to the side, taking in the sight of your legs. He frowns before saying something in a low, rumbling, lustful tone.

“Oh Darling, those bruises should be from me.” 

He sighs before crawling between your legs, his hands caressing the sides of your thighs as he lifts your legs over his shoulders. Moving his hands up and down your thighs gently, he takes in the scent of your skin. A smile creeps on his face as your body shivers from his touch, already very eager for more. Knowing this, he decides to take his time, teasing you for as long as he can handle. His hands begin to curl around your thighs, his fingertips dragging along the inside curve of your thighs now.

“Gods, why have I been sleeping with that ratty old pillow when these have been here this whole time?” He growls, gripping your thighs a little tighter, holding them closer to his head. 

You let out a small gasp from both the pain and excitement from his touch. He’s massaging your thighs a little harder now, and you can’t help but let out small moans here and there, only encouraging him to continue. You throw your head back into the pillow, your hand on your mouth as he massages a particularly sore spot. Seeing this, he stops, waiting for you to meet his gaze again. Distraught from his lack of touching, you open your eyes and look down at him to see him gazing at you through his lashes.

“Don’t you ever hide those sounds from me, darling.” He purrs, a commanding tone in his voice. He reaches through your legs to remove your hand from your face, his hand trailing down your torso in a teasingly slow pace.

“I’m not even close to being done with you yet, I intend to make you sing all night. Your throat will be aching for ages…” His words are dripping with lust, and your heart races at his usage of those dirty double entendres. His hand slips between your legs, hooking around your left thigh again, bringing it closer to his face.

Maintaining eye contact with you, he licks a stripe up your leg, starting near the junction between your torso and thigh, ending all the way up to your knee. His breath tickles your skin as he chuckles, watching you shake from his attention. He does the same with your other thigh, making sure to go just a little bit slower to really drag out your slight frustration. Your chest feels tight as it rises and falls quickly, the sound of your panting becoming loud enough to be quietly heard from outside your tent. At this point, neither of you cared if anyone in the camp heard you; it wouldn’t be the first or last time they’d hear it. 

“Your body is so soft, so beautiful, so perfect. Your thighs-” He kisses the inside of your left thigh near your knee softly, his tongue tracing at your skin. As he continues to speak, he sloppily kisses down your thighs, panting from all this excitement he brought on himself. He laps at your skin like a wild, hungry animal, your legs a fresh, raw, succulent steak.  

“They are delectable, darling. ~mhm~ I just can’t get enough of them. ~mhm~ The knowledge that you get to have them, ~mhm~ that they’re part of you, ~mhm~ that you walk around with them ~mhm~ every day. ~mhm~ Gods, I envy you. ~mhm~ If I had legs these perfect, ~mhm~ I’d never ~mhm~ hide them ~mhm~ from the world. ~mhm~ Just the sight of you, ~mhm~ lounging on cushions, ~mhm~ your legs draped on each other, ~mhm~ the way your legs look so soft ~mhm~ and inviting… ~mhm~ It's a wonder how ~mhm~ I don’t just take you ~mhm~ right then and there. ~mhm~ You drive me crazy, ~mhm~ my love. ~mhm~”

He pulls away from your thighs, both of you so riled up that you feel as though the air has been knocked out of you. Your head is hot from all the blushing, all the flattering comments, all the kissing. His face is slightly flushed, his pupils blown out, his eyes brimming with both love and lust. He almost sounds drunk as he speaks, his voice nearly cracking at the thought of what he wishes to do to you next. Pleading, he lies his cheek on the inside of your right thigh. 

“Your thighs are so delicious. I just need a taste. Just a quick taste. Please.” You can’t deny him, not after how much pleasure he’s brought you without even touching you like that yet. You nod your head, and even though he appears desperate, he makes it clear that he’s still the one in charge, the one with the upper hand.

“If you want it, you’ve got to say it.” You whimper as he massages your leg, teasing you. 

“Yes! Gods, yes!” You breathlessly exclaim.

Without wasting a single second, he sinks his teeth into your left thigh, moaning as he bites harder into your soft flesh. You moan with him, the feeling of both pain and pleasure extremely stimulating. In all your excitement, you clamp your thighs together, almost crushing his head between them. He moans even louder, his hands pressing into your thighs, encouraging the pressure. Had your legs not already been bruised, you’re sure you’d have the shape of his hands in your skin for a few days after this. During all of this, you can feel his body moving, shaking… thrusting. If you weren’t already moaning, Gods only know how you’d react to the sight of him rolling, perhaps almost slamming, his hips into your bedroll as he drinks from you, his head clamped between your thighs.

As he drinks from your thigh, you feel the sharp stinging pain from the initial bite fading away, the tingling numbness taking its place. You can feel the blood leaving your body, and it feels different from how it usually does when it leaves your neck. It’s a new, exciting feeling, hard to compare to your neck as both give such different feelings of pleasure. 

You can feel him slowing down on drinking from your thigh, his throat thick with your blood, his moans slowly turning into needy little whimpers and whines. He pulls from your thigh, eagerly lapping up the blood that drips from the two puncture wounds. The sight of his desperation makes him look like he’s never had anything to drink before in his life. The pressure from your thighs around his head releases, your legs falling open as you relax. You both lie there together, his head resting on your right thigh and looking up at you as you both try to catch your breath. He goes to speak, his voice wavering as he still continues to pant, his body now full of more energy thanks to your blood.

“For a moment there, I couldn’t breathe at all. I thought about pushing your legs away from me to catch my breath, but then I realized that I could die happy knowing that my head was crushed between your luscious thighs.” 

You laugh, realizing how ridiculous his statement is, as well as how arousing it is too. He smiles, gently kissing the puncture wounds on your thigh again. Climbing on top of you, he nestles his hips between your legs, and you can feel just how much he enjoyed all of that. He leans over you, kissing you lightly, pulling back to gaze into your eyes. 

“Thank you.” You quietly say, brushing his hair out of his face. Your hand caresses his cheek, feeling how warm he is with all your blood rushing through his body. 

“No, thank you. And besides, don’t think we’re done just yet, my love.” He gives you a knowing look, cocking his eyebrow. “I want to be the main reason you can’t walk tomorrow.” 

Before anything else can be said, you hungrily grab his face, his lips crashing on to yours. Your legs wrap around his waist, drawing his body closer, his chest grinding into yours. The night wanders on, your tent rustling, full of moans and panting breaths, two people utterly, embarrassingly in love. 

~

Author’s Note:

GUYS. Ok think back to that one scene where he drinks from Tav for the first time. You guys remember that one line of dialogue that happens if you persuade him off of you? “Mhh? Oh, of course. That - that was amazing.” His little whimper. His gulp. His panting. That one line alone was such a huge inspiration for how I wrote this, I need you all to know that that’s basically what he sounds like during most of this fic. Do with that information what you will- 

(Also this is probably the closest I'll ever get to writing smut. I don’t feel 100% comfortable writing smut, but I hope you guys enjoy the moments like these as much as I do!!)

[punk-in-docs]

A song of brides and hounds: part III

— Emperor Geta x Reader (Salacia)

— 4.3k words.

— Read all parts here: Part I — Part II — Part III — Part IV

Summary: You were raised outside of this Rome. Born into peace. To know of fathomless deep seas, and skies so big, they wrapped around your whole sight. The way that at night all you can smell are lemon trees kissed by salt. The jasmine plants wound around the white walls of the villa. Salacia. And now you are sent to Rome for your father in the Senate. There you will catch the attention of Geta; in all the wrong and darkest of ways— any reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated 💙💙💙

TW: for this chapter - mainly violence and some gore, also Caracalla being a nasty little bitch -- enjoy!

The servant girls’ hands are kind.

They undress you softly, and handle you with such reverence. Strip from you the ruined stola and tend your wounds.

They wash your feet, ply your cuts with a herbal paste of yarrow and uva ursi, wrap you in bandages. They rub new sweet smelling oil onto your unwounded skin.

Pick off your old jewellery and finery to be discarded. Slip you out your shoes. Lay you bare. Stood before them in naught but your skin as they tend you.

One is wetting, oiling and combing your netted hair to silky serenity again. Another is cleaning the wound on your elbow. All traces of dirt - and your previous life along with it - slowly removed.

Stood you in a shallow golden tub of warm water that laps at your ankles. Milky with oils and soaps. They put rose petals in the water. You watch them swim and dip.

You beg for one of the girls to keep the fibulae broaches that held your now damned dress to your shoulders. Your very last essence of home. Venus was enshrined in those very broaches. They gave you hope. Carrying a small kind piece of goddess with you. Laying your devotion to the majesty of the ocean on your simple shoulders.

They guided you to rooms draped in blue and gold. Stars moulded on the ceiling with the ornate marble that drips from every wall and corner. Giving the false illusion of a night sky. The flat ceiling between them clouded with bursts and puffs of dark blue that indicated churning night clouds. Boundless skies. Endless seas.

It felt like showing all the maps of the world to a caged bird.

Soft feminine blues befit these chambers. Statues and devotion to goddesses crown the walls and doorways. Urns of large stemmed white flowers. One wall holds a table lined with a huge offering of fruits, dried and fresh. Some bread and cured meats and oiled small fish. And an amphora of wine and goblet for after your bathing.

The air in here is scented all floral herb and clean. Too clean. No hint of sea salt or dried weed that tumbles on the shore to bake in the sun. It’s unfamiliar.

The huge slab of the cushioned bed is draped with silks and gauzy canopy curtains the colour of dove feathers. You don’t want to look at it. You dread thinking what will happen in it tonight.

A large maw of balcony gapes at another side of the room. This shows you the wall of rain outside. The violent tumble of thunder that must be shaking the very hills and peoples of Rome.

You feel as if the sea is raging because you’ve been stolen from it. Now it seeks vengeance on the land. Lashing and storming mercilessly until you’re found. Back where you belong.

Unlikely. It will have to rage on.

You stand, undressed, unseeing. Uncaring for the wealth of the room you’ve been pulled into.

The maid behind you, Oriana, a sweet and silent blonde, is scooping your hair back from your neck to comb and ply it with vanilla and orchid oil. Dark sweet musk.

Geta had specifically requested it.

Your head servant is a maid called Aeliana.

She has an accent you can’t place. It’s pretty, her tone husky. She had wonderful raven hair spilling silky and free over her shoulders, eyes dark as cassia bark, almond shaped. Long lashes. The epitome of tranquil beauty.

The colour of her dress is different to the rest of them. Indicating her higher status. Rusty red and it readily compliments the natural darkness of her skin. She wore golden bangles threaded on each wrist, and her touch is cloud soft.

She has a scar that intersects down from the middle of her forehead, across her left eye and cheek and ends there. Skin twisted and healed shiny. An old wound. It makes her striking to look at.

Worse still; She catches you staring.

Lowers her eyes as she tended you. Layering the sticky wet herbal treatment to your wounded elbow.

“Does my appearance displease you, my lady?” She lapses into silence for a moment or two.

“If you’d prefer I could send for another handmaiden to come tend you-“ She asks. Not harshly. There’s a hint of shame to her tone.

You look to her. Fearful of offence.

“I am not displeased. Forgive me. To stare so openly is rude.” You mutter. Eyes falling to your feet again. You watch rose petals sway on the water. You swallow thickly.

If she’s amused at your asking her, a servant, for forgiveness, she doesn’t show it. She calmly counters;

“You are Empress Salacia of Rome. You are allowed to stare at whomever you wish.” She tells you plainly.

Your eyes water. You bite inside your lower lip before you respond.

Not yet I’m not. And I don’t want to be.

“How came you by the scar?” You ask. Knowing full well you won’t like the answer. She gently washed your shoulder with a cloth.

“The Emperor.” She tells frankly.

At your doe eyed expression of horror she elucidates.

“Not Emperor Geta. His brother, Caracalla. Emperor Geta’s temper may be foul and quick to boil. But, Caracalla he is… far crueler.” She explains.

Your mouth purses into a thin line.

Oriana has finished oiling your hair. Now she was styling it into waves. Decorated with ornaments of netted gold. Geta requested it down as opposed to the normal bridal style. Emperors have what they want.

“What was the reason…” You sought. Fearing the answer.

“I was too slow in bringing his wine one night.” She offers. Plucking a vial of oil from the side table and coming back to rub it into your bare arms.

You squeeze your eyes closed. Ignore the tickle of tears that threaten your scrunched eyelids.

This is the savage world you must inhabit now. Try to navigate with sharper hungrier teeth and deadlier instinct. You don’t feel ready. You must become lionhearted and fierce. Carry knives. Be ruthless.

You hear your mothers reverent voice in your head. Sweet sea child. You were not made that way.

“I am sorry for your pain. Aeliana. But I am grateful for your warning.” You decide.

She nods. “I thank the goddess’ for you. Empress.” She smiles at you.

Before going to the side to fetch your tunica recta, and the belt you’d wear on your waist in a knot of hercules. Which tradition dictated only Geta was allowed to undo.

Your husband.

You wince. Aueliana notices.

“Your majesty?” She seeks. Sensing your unease.

“I am nervous.” You tell her. You confide your worry in this woman with kind eyes and soft hands.

“It is expected of a bride to be nervous.” She awards you.

“I’m not a normal bride.” You confirm fearfully. She can see them shaking in your gaze. Threatening to breach your lash line.

She nods in understanding. You’re sure they all knew. The reason that placed you here. Spread like wildfire on dry plains through the servant halls.

“I know little of managing a husband. Of… starting a family.”

“If I may, your majesty. Your family is a noble one, yes?” She asks.

You nod. You lived in one of the richest houses in Corsica. You were never lacking in money or ribbons and new jewels. But at best you were a senators daughter. Not the ideal stock for an Emperors wife. Not the type to be governing one great nation.

“My grandmother is a well known seer in these parts. A healer. Purveyor of white magic. Many a time she has seen things that have yet to come to pass…” She explains as she wraps the belt around your waist. Speaking as she does.

“She foretold your arrival. Said the future of Rome would be written by rain and storm, when blood spills on the ancient serpent stone.”

Serpent. Synonymous with the Traitor. Two faced and shedding skin. Blood spilling, the death of your Brother. Rain on the rocks- this storm hammering down. You can’t believe it.

“What if Rome is your destiny?” She explains. Her voice kind and brave as the candles flicker and the storm rages on.

“Then I pray the goddess’ convey me the strength to survive it.”

“I will pray too.” She takes your hand. It feels like kinship.

They stepped you out of the tub and began to pat you dry with cloths and then dress you.

With each pass of their hands wiping the water from your skin, it removed you further and further from yourself.

Aeliana rubs a sweet balm like texture onto your pebbled nipples before she robes you. Said it was to increase your fertility. She also lines your eyes with burnt kohl.

They pulled your dress on around you. Let it fall into beautiful waves. You stood sedately and let them manoeuvre you.

Your skin positively draped with as much fragrant oil as it could take. Anointed with your new life as it drips off you in unbearable sweetness. Decorations not of your choosing put into your hair, on your ears, around your neck, on your arms. Strangled by someone else’s finery.

Slid fine golden sandals onto your feet. Aeliana brought a flame red veil and pinned it in place over your head. It floated down to your shoulders. Securing a crown of myrtle flowers over it.

It may have been gauzy fabric; rich and fine. But it felt like iron to you. Iron veil and a crown of thorns.

When they finish readying you, they bow and leave you alone to eat the fresh bread and fruits. Drink the sweet wine. Night closes in around you.

You didn’t ever picture the night before your wedding being like this. Alone and noiseless save for rain. You pictured the noise and gaiety of your sisters, dancing in their fine dresses. How they’d carry golden stalks of wheat to signify your prosperous marriage - how it would bear fruit. Be blessed by gods and fortune.

Your mother would bind your hands to the man you’d marry. To the man you’d love.

And you are here. Miserable in cold indifference. Clothed in perfumed oil and silence. With only your dour thoughts for company.

You pick at your offering of food. Feeling the milky eyes of those female deity marble statues watching you carefully. Judging. Maybe even disappointed.

When the doors next shudder open as the guards outside push them open, a divine older woman comes striding slowly, surely, into the room. Confidence woven into her steps like the very fine lavender purple cloth folded around her shoulders. A beautiful sage green palla. Her hair is dark and braided masterfully on her head. Shot through with bolts of silver.

You recognise her from coins. From statues. The Dowager Empress of Rome. Julia Domna.

She looks wise as Minerva. Goddess of education indeed. All of Rome had heard tale of not only her beauty, but her mind. Sharp as an arrowhead. A gentle mediator between her rabid sons.

Out of sheer politesse and nerves, you bolt out your seat and bow your head to her. Words shrivel on your tongue. Royalty is stood before you. Here you are plucked from the dungeons. You feel unworthy.

“Rise, my child.” She bids you. Holding out a hand laid with jewels on nearly every finger. Standing before you. Close enough to discern some of your beauty through the veil.

She examines you. Not unkindly. The way you’d expect a mother to examine the vessel that will carry her sons legacy. She’s discerning.

“Let me see my sons choice then…” she bids. Hands crossed in front of her, diplomatically, as she lets her deep set, serious eyes become acquainted with all of you.

Choice? Or chattel?

She walks around you. Eyes your hair. Your build. Your hips. The way you’ve been presented like a prized sacrificial swine before the crowds on Saturnalia.

And she doesn’t appear to find you lacking

“Goodness. You really are beautiful.” She says. It sounds mournful. Introspective. As if she didn’t intend on you hearing it.

“He’s made a fine choice.” She lauded

“Corsica, I hear you hail from?”

“Yes, Dowager.”

“I want to know one thing.” She says. Voice hard as newly forged steel. A shiver runs your spine. So she could be terrifying if she wishes.

“Are you a traitor against Rome?” She demands. “There are spies who would conspire to align themselves with this great house, under false guises, to murder my sons.” She speaks, crossly. Eyes aflame.

She has bite after all. Lions teeth and knows full well how to use them.

“I am no spy. I am not a murderer I have no guise. Like you. I only want to protect those whom I love.” You answer calmly. Placid easy waves. Gently now.

She smiles. Though something curious still lurks in her eyes.

“Then we are on the same page.” She awards slyly. You feel as if you’ve passed a test.

Her smile crooks on one side. Relieved.

She turns to the doors. The great sway of her earrings are big as chandeliers as she moves. Stunning gold. Bands of gold also cross her well formed upper arms. Every inch a woman of gentility and riches. She is perfumed with lavender. Oil made from dried plants fetched all the way from purple fields in Aquitania.

“My son grows impatient to see his bride. Come. Salacia. It is time.” She offers her arm to you.

Apparently your destiny lays in wait.

~

The wedding was a short and simple affair. The Dowager Empress led you to the grand rooms where they were to be held.

Grand, just like the rest of this humongous sprawling palace.

When you see Geta, he is clad in so much gold and armour. A blinding white cloak draped off his form. Armour golden. Carved with gods and victorious hero’s of battle. Golden laurel crown adorns his head. His smile at the sight of you makes you blush with attention.

You are suddenly grateful for the veil. It manages to hide you from every stranger in this room. You can make out Caracalla. Some other senators. Other guests you’ve no idea who.

The celebrant, a rather portly priest, ordered the evil spirits away. Asked for the fire spirits to bless you. He invoked Janus to watch over you from single people to a joined couple. New beginnings.

When it is time, he takes your hand and carefully threads an engagement ring on your finger. It is weighty, pure gold. An imitation of two dog heads joined together. A round sapphire cradled between their mouths. As if they’re fighting for it.

Remus and Romulus. It reminds you of him already.

You dare to meet his eyes as he does it. He looks ravenous. Umbra catching you where you stand. Swallows you whole. You don’t think you can get used to it yet.

“Wherever you go, there also go I, as your wife.” You speak.

The dowager Empress binds your hands together with blood red linen as the rest of the vows are read. The way his fingers turn and grip the inside of your forearm - firm pressing, hot like a brand - it makes you shiver.

Then comes the time for the marriage to be sealed with a kiss. Hands freed.

Your stomach is squirming unpleasantly as your stranger of a groom steps forwards to lift your veil. When he lifts the red gauze from your vision, you keep your eyes lowered until the last moment.

You feel the urging of his eyes. You could hear the fierce nature of his words as if he’d spoken.

Look at me. Salacia.

He looks entirely too boastful. His perfect little nymph. Caught and landed at last.

Hepulled you in by your waist. Locked his hand around your back. Gave you a kiss that was certainly gentler than before. Softness of his lips was maddening when the rest of him was all armour and metal. But you still felt the edge of his teeth on your lower lip. Bursting new pain from where it had split.

It was official. You had been dragged out a golden net cast in the sea. And now property of the Emperor of Rome.

You had no time to let your thoughts wander. There’s been quite the celebration planned for after. He walks beside you as congratulations ripple around you from nobles, senators, generals and high officials of the courts.

You ignore the way Caracalla sneers a particularly vile look your way when you pass him. Plotting.

You are lead to an opulent triclinium. Open to one huge side, guarded by pillars, which overlooked a garden where fountains trickled and plants bloom even in the storm that’s still brewing. Spitting rain on the landscape.

There are torches at the sides of the rooms, huge bowls boasting orange flames that lick at the walls, and freshly plucked flowers, still green branches and fronds sit in urns to the side. Filling the room with petals and heady nectar scent.

There’s a huge swarm of lectus’ in the centre of the room. Bronze laid with cushions. All pointing towards a huge table were bread and wine goblets awaited. You’re not used to how the room echoes. Unused to the sheer amount of people and formality that fills it.

The wine is poured freely by silent servants who sweep in and out. Some of them carrying plates as huge as carriage wheels. A whole roasted boar with grapes spilling out its mouth is brought in. Trays upon trays of cooked moray eels, cod and oiled anchovies. A whole platter of stewed nightingale birds, arranged around stalks of herbs and plums.

There’s fruit and bread the like of which you’ve not seen before. White bowls filled with cut purple figs and waxy oranges. Apples and yellow golden pears on tiered stands. Grapes and dried apricots heaped in dishes. It’s dazzling. So much wealth thrust before you.

You have a cup of sweet honey wine and take some of the unleavened bread. Watching as others around you gorge and toast with their goblets. Drinking strong wine and telling jokes and bawdy stories.

You feel disjointed from it all. You feel the Emperors eyes pass over you. The dowagers too. You are a source of mystery and intrigue.

Plucked from misfortune and placed here at the feet of gods.

You do feel when your new husband slides some pieces of fruit, or fresh breads onto your plate. A small bunch of sweet red grapes. His head may be cocked to conversation in this room. But his attention remains somewhat on you.

“Eat. Wife. I do not wish to force you.” He commands you. Prodding food and more wine in your direction.

Nursing his own cup and barking at the servants when he wanted more. You know his tongue must be stained with the taste by now. Sour purple. You wonder if you’ll taste it later in another of his animalistic kisses.

It feels like there is a boulder in your stomach. You swallow. You sip. You try to breathe. It all feels too restricted.

“Refill my wife’s cup.” Geta demands of the nearest servant. You flinch at his cutting commands.

You meet the servants eyes for a second and flicker them a smile. They look to the ground as they fill your cup. Their poor hands shake. You thank them. They don’t respond.

You’ve a feeling his plying you with wine has more than one ulterior motive. To make you loosen. Make you pliant. Make you slip down easier in his crushing grip.

“I have no appetite.” You admit weakly.

You can’t stomach the way the fat on the meat before you glistens. These poor stewed birds with clipped wings. The gutted boar. Glistening fat and dead meat. Same as the way of those poor flayed men in the coliseum.

Butchered animals. One and the same. The way blood sprayed out on the biscuit brown dirt under the sun. The way viscera glistened bright when spilled free from once living flesh. How these animals looked served on a platter. There’s no difference.

You take some grapes. Pick them from the vine. Bite into some apricots. The fruit rots on your palate. Fine sugary flesh and it bursts on your tongue like ripe putrefaction. You place it gently back on your plate.

“Do they not have fruit in Corsica?” He asks. It’s vaguely mocking.

“We had lemon trees in the gardens. An olive tree in the courtyard. Over 200 years old.” You state quietly. Not taking your eyes off the plate in front of you. You picked and prodded at it.

“You have more now. You are Empress. You have anything you want.” He impressed on you.

“I miss the ocean. The sun on the shoreline. My sisters.” You mutter.

“Don’t risk sounding ungrateful.” He threatens.

Geta followed the path of your reluctant hand with his eyes. He then scans across all of his guests. People of the senate. Rich merchants. Fellow royalty.

They come to snipe and drink wine and watch this new wedded spectacle.

“They are all dull.” Geta decided.

You wonder if the only source of amusement he could delight at was seeing people being beaten to black and blue paste in the coliseum. To have to see the spray of blood to feel something.

“They are intrigued. Their Emperor has placed a traitor in his marriage bed.” You comment.

Geta turned to you. “That sounds like treason to my ears.” A warning.

“Perhaps.” You answered. Boldly.

“But is it inaccurate? It is what they are all thinking.” You add. “You’ve wedded yourself to someone disloyal. Someone who is not their kind. They are curious.”

Geta scans his eyes over everyone again. Their laughter. The flow of wine. The way they stab and cut into food and fruit like they’re half starved. None of them quite meet your eyes.

Perhaps they don’t wish too.

His hand finds the meat of your thigh. Flesh firm and warm.

“They will believe what I tell them too. Wife. You only need worry about your loyal duty to me. Nothing else.” He makes clear.

You go back to pushing bits of fruit around your plate. Taking no more sustenance.

“No doubt you are unused to such finery.” Caracalla pipes up. Seeing you toy with your food. “I wonder what they eat in Corsica. Peasants sea food?”

You meet Caracalla’s eyes across the tables and mountains of rich food.

Getas eyes were dark. Fired by lust for you. That’s what you saw in them when he looked at you.

The same could not be said for Caracalla.

You saw nothing. Just darkness and his love of cruelty. Geta unnerved you. But it was Caracalla who scared you most. It was like gazing into a tomb. A bare skull eye socket. You’re certain nothing but darkness refracted back. Splintered twisted darkness. The purest distilled form of malice.

“Perhaps you are jealous, brother. The fact that I will have heirs meant for the future of the empire. And you will… not.” He snaps. Petulant.

“If she makes it that far.” Caracalla sneers. Daggering a smile right at you. A sneer that make you feel cold. He’s twirling a dagger in his other hand. Eyeing you with sick lustful interest.

He wants your goodness too. He wants it so he can spoil you for himself and ruin Getas legitimacy. By whatever means necessary. Geta has cruelly inserted you into this feud.

“And who’s to say the heir will be yours… who knows where her eyes will stray.” He jabs. Eyes widening as he leers.

Geta stabs into his food. Glaring at his smaller twin all the while. Eyes dark as shadow cloaked black jewels.

When some servants near you move from pouring wine, the sight of the persons impeded by them, slowed your world to a halt, ringing gongs in your ears when you caught sight of someone you recognized.

Macrinus.

The food in your mouth turns to ash which you can hardly stomach swallowing. Your gaze locked on the man as he lays content at your wedding feast. Drinking wine and roaring laughter with Caracalla. Garbed in robes of rich Aquarian blue trimmed with gold pattern.

Exactly the gracious easy way he had been when he dined with you and your father in his home.

His smile remains as he locks eyes with you. And raises his glass in a toast in your direction. You hear him drink to your new name with a blazing smirk aimed your way. “Empress.”

You mumble a pithy excuse. You don’t know if anyone hears you or if they’ll even look up from their plates when you get up and rush to leave.

Caracalla snorts as you race from the room on the verge of tears.

“She’s a flighty one. Your Empress. So full of tears.” Caracalla comments loudly. Cruelly. Turning his head to meet the acid stare of his brother - and the Dowager Empress as she lowers her goblet from her lips. Eyes cool as metal.

“Maybe if you shoved your cock into your broodmare, brother, as you doubtless plan to do this night. Maybe that would settle her down? Or maybe a good beating from the guards will see her right, make her see her place… maybe let a few of the guards bend her over a lectus and see to her first? Loosen her up a little for your uses.”

“Caracalla. Enough.” The dowager snaps. Lightning power in her voice. Tone fashioned from a fury storms could envy. Her dark eyes glow with it.

She turns to Geta and lays a gentle pacifying hand to his arm. “See to your bride, dear. She looked unwell.”

Geta sighs a snarl. Glaring at his brother as he does as mother suggested.

She watches him leave. Turns to her other son with barely concealed ire.

Caracalla snorts into his wine with the other guests. Making sneering, high handed remarks.

“Such marital bliss.” He mocks to the guests. Twirling his favourite silver dagger in his other hand. Laughing as he played with the dead meats on his plate with a sneer. His tooth winked golden in the light.

~

Tagging in the hopes this finds its way to the right people- thank you--

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[pulisicsgirl]

christmas on my own - mason mount

summary: when Y/N finds herself spending Christmas alone for the first time in her life, a chance encounter with Mason may prove to be just the cure she needed for her holiday blues

pairing: Mason Mount x reader

word count: 6.3k

warnings/tags: semi-established relationship, the tiniest bit of angst at the beginning but overwhelming fluff for the rest of it, Christmas celebrations, awkward encounters with meeting the family for the first time

requested: no

notes: surprise!! Please ignore the fact that it's been three months since I last posted a fic. Life has been coming at me pretty fast this year, and it's made it incredibly difficult for me to find the time or motivation to write. But I've been thinking about and planning this one since almost October, so I wanted to be sure I was able to put this out as a little Christmas gift for you all!! Thank you for being so patient with my inconsistent posting schedule this year, and I hope you're all able to enjoy some time with your loved ones this holiday season! Also I know that Mila is still a baby, but for the sake of the fic, please pretend she's a toddler Merry Christmas to all of you, my loves!!

You blew hot air into your clenched fists in an attempt to warm them as you stood in the small Manchester café. The biting cold of the outdoors was still making your fingertips ache as you lingered near the counter, long after you had finished placing your order and paying.

You briefly surveyed the somewhat empty café, admiring the glowing lights and cheerful decorations that the owners had put out for the holiday season. A few sets of what you assumed to be grandparents and their grandchildren were also waiting alongside you, some of the children pressing their faces up against the glass display case as they relayed which pastries and treats they wanted to take home with them.

Today was the first Christmas that you had ever spent alone, and seeing the families happy and smiling together made your heart ache a bit, longing for your childhood when the season still felt magical and joyous.

To say that it had stung when your parents told you they would be travelling to spend the holiday with your brother would be an understatement. It had been unexpected, and they had only given you a little less than a week’s notice, meaning that as you were expected to work both the day before and after Christmas, you didn’t have enough time to make arrangements to go on the trip with them. You knew that your parents missed your brother as he had moved away a couple of years ago, and you understood why they would want to go see him and his wife that he had recently married. But it was hard to get left behind to spend the holiday that’s all about being together and giving to one another alone.

So now, on the afternoon of Christmas, you found yourself standing in a small bakery in Manchester, the very one that your family would always stop by on Christmas Day to get a few smalls treats to take back home after you had opened all of your gifts.

You had spent the morning at home, watching a couple Christmas films to try to put yourself in a festive mood and generally just feeling sorry for yourself. You had tried your best not to just mope about all day, but it proved difficult. By the time the afternoon rolled around, you decided that it just didn’t feel right to not make your annual trip to the bakery, even if it would be by yourself this year. So you had dragged yourself out of bed, put on a nice sweater and some black leggings and styled your hair a bit in the hopes of making yourself feel better, and decided to walk to the bakery in order to get a bit of fresh air.

You were lost in your own thoughts, fantasizing about the sweet taste of the coffee and pastry that would surely be coming your way soon when the bell above the entrance rang out. Your eyes naturally jumped over to the door to see where the noise was coming from, and your stomach sank to your feet when you saw who had stepped in.

It was Mason.

You and Mason had been going out for the last few weeks—not long enough to put an official label on it, but long enough that the two of you had gotten to know each other better and knew that you were both serious about this.

You had no idea what he was doing at the small bakery, but the last thing you wanted was for him to find out how pitiful you were, spending Christmas at home, alone on your couch.

Your hand darted up, scratching the side of your head in an attempt to hide your face from him as he approached the register only 10 feet away from you. Hoping that was enough to make sure he wouldn’t see you, your heart began to race as you realized that the worker would be calling out your name when your order was ready, and there would surely be no escape then.

You were beginning to contemplate the possibility of just leaving without the items you had paid for when his soft voice cut through your thoughts, thwarting any plans you’d had to run.

“Y/N?” he asked sweetly, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Fancy seeing you here! Happy Christmas!”

You glanced up at him, his eyes bright as you tried to feign surprise at the sight of him.

“Mason, hi!” He drew you into a quick embrace, his scent surrounding you almost immediately. “Happy Christmas!” you mumbled into his chest before he released you.

“W-What are you doing here?” you rushed to ask, hoping to avoid any questions about your holiday celebrations.

“I’m actually on my way back home from training,” he spoke, scratching the back of his neck.

“Training? On Christmas?” you exclaimed. “That’s cruel!”

He laughed shortly, nodding along as he spoke. “I know, but we actually have a match tomorrow, so they couldn’t afford us a day off, unfortunately.” He shrugged, seeming like his cheery mood hadn’t been too phased by the interruption from his job. “But anyway, my family all came to mine for the holidays, and my nieces insisted I bring back a treat for them when I came home. I remembered you had mentioned this place, so I thought I should give it a try.”

Your heart fluttered at his mention of your conversation from a couple weeks ago. You had told him about the tradition in passing on a date when he had asked about how you and your family usually celebrated Christmas, and the fact that he had even remembered that detail meant the world to you.

“Oh, that’s so lovely that they were all still able to come up to celebrate with you,” you smiled at him.

“Yeah, they all arrived yesterday, and we did stockings this morning, but I’m sure my nieces are itching for me to get home so they can open the rest of their presents.”

Your chest felt warm at the way he always spoke about his family—especially his young nieces. Anyone could see from a mile off that he loved them all dearly.

“Are they going to be able to stay long?”

“They’ll be here for a couple of days, actually! Gonna be able to go to the game tomorrow as well, so I’m really excited to be able to have them there.” His grin spread nearly from ear to ear, the crinkles by his eyes becoming more pronounced. “But what about you? I’m assuming you’re here picking up the traditional Christmas pastries?”

Your heart sank, trying to find a way around the fact that you were alone for the holidays. You didn’t want him to pity you or to feel bad for expressing his joy over having his family with him. “Well, actually, I—um—”

“Y/N!” one of the bakery’s employees called out, placing a small to-go cup of coffee and a single, wrapped pastry on the counter. Your head dipped low, you walked over to the counter, picking up your order and quietly thanking the employee before you turned to walk back over to Mason. The look of confusion was unmistakable on his face as he looked at the single pastry in your hands, rather than the bulk order of treats that you had told him about weeks prior.

“My… parents actually went to visit my brother for the holidays,” you spoke quietly, having to force each word of your admission out. “So the order’s just for me today.” You forced a smile onto your face, hoping he wouldn’t see through the façade.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been on your own today,” Mason spoke, and you rushed to assure him that you were fine.

“I mean, yeah, but it’s—”

“Y/N, there’s no use in that. We have plenty of food and space at mine! You should’ve said something!”

“I—what?” His response caught you completely off-guard, not at all what you had expected him to say.

“Come over! We’d love to have you!” A huge smile spread across his face as he spoke to you. “There’s no reason for you to spend the holidays alone.”

“Mason, I couldn’t,” you immediately began trying to track back, but he didn’t seem at all discouraged by your protest. “I wouldn’t want to impose, and—”

“You’re not imposing, I’m inviting you,” he stated, matter-of-factly, as if it was just a simple matter. “My family would love to have you, and my nieces will be overjoyed to have someone new around!”

You were stumbling over your words, unable to fight against his persistence. “But… But I…”

“Look, we don’t have to say anything about us at all,” Mason said, sensing your resolve crumbling bit by bit. “You don’t have to meet my family as the girl that I’m dating, I’ll just introduce you as a friend. It’ll be completely fine.”

You bit your lip as you searched his face for any sign of hesitation. You couldn’t deny that the idea of joining in his family’s festivities did lift your spirits a little bit. The idea of being gathered around a Christmas tree and watching everyone opening gifts, maybe wrapped up in a warm blanket as you shared laughs with the others.

The final nail in the coffin for you was thinking about going back to your dreary apartment with the half-hearted decorations and spending the rest of the day by yourself.

“Please?” Mason pleaded with you one last time, his eyebrows raised as he gave you his best puppy dog eyes to convince you.

“You’re sure no one will mind?”

“I’m positive. My mum would be more upset with me if she found out I knew you were spending Christmas alone and didn’t bring you home.” The grin resumed its place on his lips as soon as you agreed, Mason bouncing slightly on his toes in giddy excitement.

Just at that moment, a voice rang out, calling Mason’s name, signaling that his order was ready to go. He quickly moved to the counter, scooping up the rather large box of pastries and holding it in one hand while he grabbed yours with the other and nearly dragged you out of the door of the bakery. You couldn’t help the giggle that slipped from your lips at his almost child-like glee at your agreement to join his family for the rest of their Christmas celebrations.

“Alright, you want to just follow me there?” he asked as the two of you strode into the parking lot. You had been to his place once before for a movie night, but he wanted to be certain you got there safely and didn’t lose your way.

“I actually walked here from my apartment, so would you mind if I just rode with you?” you asked sheepishly.

“Of course, love.” The pet name slipped out without him even thinking about it as he led you to the passenger side of his car, opening the door for you. Testing his luck a bit, Mason pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head as you stepped past him to get into the car, and you felt the heat rushing into your cheeks as he closed the door behind you.

He popped in the driver’s seat, starting the engine and turning the radio onto some station playing nonstop Christmas music, and the two of you were off, heading in the direction of his home.

You were thankful that his house was a little while away as it gave you time to collect yourself before walking into a room full of Mason’s closest family members. You thanked your lucky stars that you had gotten to urge to dress at least a little bit nice before leaving your apartment that morning so that you’d be presentable for meeting them.

After all, even if he introduced you to them as his friend this time around, if things with Mason went the way you hoped they would, you’d be seeing them many times again in the future, and you wanted to make a good first impression. 

The drive to his house was comfortable. The moments of silence were peaceful and never tense. The two of you caught up a bit since you hadn’t seen each other for a few days, and you tried your best not to think too hard about the nerve-wracking evening ahead of you. Mason kept glancing over at your bouncing knee—he could tell that you were nervous, and you could tell that he was fighting the urge to hold your hand.

So, in a moment of bravery, you reached over, bringing his free hand into your lap and intertwining your fingers. You couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered at the slight blush that crept up his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose as he began stroking his thumb across your knuckles, back and forth in a soothing motion.

Sooner than you were prepared for, Mason turned into the long driveway that wound back to his house, and you swallowed a nervous lump as his house came into view.

“You’re sure this is okay?” you asked as he put the car in park and turned off the engine, still somewhat nervous about intruding on their family holiday.

“Y/N, it’s fine,” Mason held your face in both of his hands for a moment, trying to reassure you to the best of his ability. “My mum loves hosting new people, so she’s gonna be super excited when I bring you in there!”

Something about the way he said that made your ears perk up. “Wait, Mason—Mason!” you exclaimed as he quickly got out of the driver’s seat. You threw open your door, leaping to your feet despite the fact that Mason was on his way around to your side to open the door for you. “Did you not at least text them to let them know I was coming with you?” you asked, exasperated.

Mason shrugged as if he didn’t see what the big deal was, shaking his head ‘no.’

“Mason! I can’t just—”

He cut you off by pressing his finger to your lips, gently shushing you. “Hey, trust me,” he looked intensely into your eyes. “It’s okay,” he said slowly.

Your shoulders slumped slightly, resigning yourself to him as you whispered a soft “okay.”

He tapped the tip of your nose and a quiet giggle escaped from your lips. You hated and loved how this boy could turn you into complete mush in mere moments. It made you feel so giddy but also so vulnerable at the same time, and it was a feeling you were still getting used to.

He held onto the car door, letting you step out from behind it before closing it and gestured for you to head toward his front door once he had retrieved the box of pastries from his back seat. He reassured you of his presence just behind you with his hand placed gently on the small of your back.

You hesitated at the front door, letting out a shuddery breath.

“Hey, it’s no biggie. Don’t freak yourself out, okay?” Mason spoke as if he had been able to read your mind, sneaking one final kiss to your forehead before stepping toward the door and reaching for the doorknob. Even though you hadn’t been seeing each other for very long, you noticed how Mason couldn’t seem to help himself from those small touches—the little gestures of reassurance like the forehead kisses, a hand on your back, and gentle touch on your knee—and it kind of surprised you how much they settled you, as you had never been big on copious amounts of physical touch in your past relationships.

Mason stepped through the doorway into his home, and you followed behind him, doing your best to still your racing heart.

It was only seconds after the sound of the door opening could be heard within the house that you hear the sound of tiny feet slapping on the floor, heading in your direction. Moments later, two little girls rounded the corner and came bolting toward you and Mason as he closed the door behind the two of you, the air filled with their squeals and giggles.

“Uncle Masey! Uncle Masey!” they screamed, wrapping their arms around each of his legs. Mason immediately matched their energy, clearly just as excited to be coming home to them as he squeezed them close to his body with his free hand. You took the box of pastries from him so that he could bend down, scooping them both up in his arms and pressing kisses all over their faces. The girls giggled and screamed as he told them how much he had missed them between kisses.

Mason finally pulled back after one final, dramatic kiss that had the older of the two wiping at her cheek and she laughed at him. If you had thought the way Mason spoke about his nieces was sweet, it was nothing compared to the way he acted around them.

“Summer, Mila, this is Y/N,” Mason spoke once the girls’ giggles had quieted.

“Is she your wife?” the older girl asked, and your mouth dropped open in shock.

Mason, clearly amused by her question, threw his head back and laughed. “No, Summer. Y/N is just my friend.”

“Oh, okay,” Summer shrugged, quickly moving on from the conversation, wiggling so that Mason would set her back on the floor. Immediately she took off, running out of sight and Mason followed behind her with Mila still in his arms.

Voices could be heard coming from the kitchen, and you remained just behind Mason as you followed him, hoping that his body would shield you from the rest of his family.

When you found the others, you first saw Summer crawling up into one of the tall chairs at the kitchen bar, surrounded by numerous others. Perfectly-shaped gingerbread cookies lined the countertop, placed on sheets of wax paper, and bags of differently-colored icing were strewn around the countertop, along with various shapes and sizes of sprinkles. Cheerful Christmas music was ringing out through the room, and a warm feeling spread through your chest at the sight of it all.

Several of Mason’s family members greeted him as soon as the three of you entered the spacious kitchen, happy to see him back home from training.

Mason wasted no time in bringing you around to his side with a gentle hand between your shoulders before he let his hand fall to his side, not wanting to make you feel self-conscious in front of his family.

“Guys, this is my friend, Y/N,” Mason smiled at you reassuringly. “She’s gonna be joining us for the rest of the day.”

His introduction irked you slightly, wanting to give more of an explanation for why you were crashing their holiday when Summer piped up from where she was very focused on decorating her gingerbread man. “And she’s not Uncle Masey’s wife.”

A chorus of laughs rang through the room, and you felt your cheeks heat up, forcing a laugh to try to play off the fact that you felt like you were about to pee your pants.

A woman who you could only assume was Mason’s mother wiped her hands off on a dish towel, walking in your direction with open arms.

“Oh, it’s so lovely to meet you, Y/N! I’m Debbie—Mason’s mum,” she spoke, confirming your guess. Mason quickly snatched the box of pastries from you so your hands were free and Debbie pulled you into a tight embrace—it was one of those hugs where you felt every muscle in your body relax a bit, and immediately you felt a little bit more settled in the unfamiliar environment.

“Thank you so much for having me.” You felt a bit silly, thanking her for being willing to do something she hadn’t even really agreed to in the first place.

“No, no, it’s nothing!” Debbie pulled back from the hug, waving her hand at you before she led you further into the kitchen, beginning to introduce you to everyone.  You met Mason’s father, Tony, who had greeted you with the same warm embrace that Debbie had, and then she introduced you to Mason’s brother, Lewis, and his sister Jaz and her husband before repeating the young girls’ names to you. Everyone had greeted you cheerfully, not even blinking an eye at the fact that Mason had brought a stranger home to join their Christmas celebration.

It wasn’t long before Debbie had you set up with your own sheet of wax paper and a cookie to decorate. You caught Mason’s eye, a sweet smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye that said I told you so.

You were surprised at how easy it was to settle in with Mason’s family. You had never been someone that was good at meeting new people, and it typically took you a while to warm up to them. But Mason’s family wasted no time in treating you as one of their own, and it almost felt natural to be there with them within minutes.

Playful banter was exchanged, Summer and Mila were shouting for everyone to look at their sprinkle-covered cookies, and everyone was laughing. Mason settled into his spot next to you, nudging you gently with his shoulder.

Mason’s family asked a little bit about yourself, but they kept the questions light, and you were thankful that they didn’t try to dig into why Mason had brought you home.

Once all the cookies had been decorated, the girls began shouting that it was time to open presents and Jaz had to wrestle them into wiping their hands and faces clean of icing before they took off, sprinting in the direction of the living room.

Once everyone had settled in the living room, some on the couch, some sitting on the floor, Tony donned a large Santa hat and beard before he began to distribute the gifts that were under and around the tree. You had kicked your shoes off by the door and tucked your legs up under you as you settled into the cushions next to Mason, a respectable amount of space still between you as you still didn’t really know how to handle yourselves around his family.

Each person opened their presents as Tony handed them out, one by one, and everyone ooh-ed and ahh-ed as each gift was uncovered. Debbie and Jaz were taking lots of photos of everyone as they tore into their gifts. Your heart swelled at the thoughtful gifts that were exchanged. It became quickly apparent that remembering small details about the things people said was something that Mason had gotten from his family.

Mason kept silently checking in on you, glancing over to make sure you doing okay. You could feel his gaze on the side of your face, glancing over and making eye contact with him before shooting him an assuring smile.

By the time all of the presents were open and the wrapping paper and ribbons had been collected and put into trash bags, it was nearing dinner time and Debbie disappeared back into the kitchen to put the finishing touches on the food. You sprang to your feet, naturally wanting to help her as a thank you for having you as a guest (despite her insistence that you didn’t need to), and Jaz joined the two of you soon after.

Conversation flowed naturally between the three of you, and you felt completely at ease talking with them as you worked to finish the finals bits of the Christmas dinner, most of it having been prepared before and very little needing to be done to finish it.

The fated question finally came up as the three of you were carrying everything to the table.

“So, Y/N, I don’t mean to pry, but I’ve got to ask.” Your heart leapt immediately at Debbie’s words. “Are you and Mason only friends, or is there something more going on there?”

You pondered for a moment how to answer her question. At the beginning of the day, you would never have dreamed of admitting the nature of your relationship with Mason to his mother. But now, after the time you had spent with him, you settled on telling her the truth. You knew you were serious about the budding relationship between the two of you, and you knew he was, too. Though you hadn’t officially put any labels on it, having decided to take things slow, you had started being more open about it with your circle of friends.

“Well, I… we’ve… gone on a few dates,” you started, and a pleased smile took over Debbie’s face. “We’re taking things slow, but he’s been an absolute gentleman and he’s been nothing short of amazing to me.”

Debbie beamed with pride at your words. “Well, I didn’t raise him to be anything less than that, so I’m glad to hear it.”

“We haven’t been going out for very long, and I really wasn’t planning on crashing your family’s Christmas today,” you felt the need to explain yourself, now that you were putting all of your cards on the table. “My family… they actually are out of town visiting my brother this holiday season, and I happened to run into Mason at the bakery this afternoon. As soon as he found out I was spending Christmas on my own, he insisted I come back here with him, and he was not taking no for an answer,” you chuckled at the recent memory.

“Oh, love,” Debbie’s face held a slight pout as she instantly read the sadness that you tried to hide over not spending the holiday with your family. She pulled you into another of her amazing hugs, placing a quick kiss on your cheek as she drew away. “Well I speak for everyone when I say we’ve loved having you here with us.”

Your mind flashed back to how unphased everyone had been by your arrival. “Does Mason do this a lot? Picking up strays for the holidays?” you tried to play off your question with a laugh, momentarily wondering if you were just another girl on a long list.

Debbie shook her head. “No, he’s never done anything like this before. And he’s certainly never brought a girl home for something like this,” she spoke, calming your nerves. You had felt a bit silly for asking in the first place, but her words soothed your fleeting insecurities. “But hopefully we can look forward to having you at many Christmases in the future,” she beamed, patting your cheek before she wandered back into the kitchen and refraining from prying any further.

You blew out a long breath that you didn’t even realize you had been holding, trying to wrap your head around the conversation you had just had—with a woman you had only met a few hours ago. And it wasn’t just some normal thing for Mason to bring girls home during the holidays, but everyone had just been that welcoming to you, despite showing up without warning. Your chest felt full, swelling with love for Mason and his family.

Debbie called the others to the table to eat, and you wandered in the direction of the living room, hoping to catch Mason for a moment before you joined the others. The rest of his family filtered out of the room, leaving you and Mason alone for the first time in the last few hours.

“You doing okay?” Mason asked, and you wordlessly wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest and holding onto him tighter than you ever had before. Caught a bit off-guard by the affection, Mason wrapped his arms gently around your body, running his fingers up and down your spine.

His heart sank when you pulled your head back to look at him, arms still wrapped around his torso, and he saw the tears welling in your eyes.

“What happened, love?! Did someone say something—”

“Thank you,” you whispered, your lower lip trembling.

“For what, love?” Mason cradled your cheek in one of his hands, swiping his thumb under your eye to wipe away a tear. You noticed that he used the pet name more frequently when he was concerned.

“For bringing me here. For introducing me to your family. They’re amazing, Mason.”

A look of relief and adoration washed over Mason’s face and he smiled at you, leaning down to press his forehead to yours. “I’m so glad you came.”

“Me, too,” you let your eyes slip closed, allowing yourself to take a moment to yourselves and let your heart settle a bit.

“You know your mom asked me about us?” you broke the silence after a few seconds.

“Yeah?” he pulled back to look at your face, trying to gauge your reaction. “And what did you tell her?”

“The truth,” you gently shrugged your shoulders. “That we’ve gone out a few times and we’re taking things pretty slow, but that I think I’ll probably keep you around.”

“Yeah?” he grinned, and you nodded in response.

“Come on, we should probably head in there before Summer comes looking,” you pulled back, wiping away any stray tears with the sleeve of your sweater, hoping that no one would be able to tell how emotional you had just gotten.

The two of you joined the others at the table, taking your place between Mason and Summer after she had insisted you sit beside her, much to Mason’s fake offense. The food was incredible, as it had been a while since you’d had a big home-cooked meal like this, and you were sure to let Debbie know how much you enjoyed it. When everyone’s plates were empty, everyone took part in the freshly-decorated cookies and Mason and Lewis cleared the dishes, being sure to push you, Debbie, and Jaz toward the living room before any of you tried to help.

You were just returning from a quick trip to the bathroom when the boys walked back in from the kitchen, and you noticed everyone settling back down on the couch.

“We always watch a Christmas film after dinner, but I can take you home if you’re ready to leave,” Mason explained to you.

You thought over the offer for a moment, deciding you weren’t really ready to part from Mason and his family just yet.

“I mean… I wouldn’t mind sticking around a little while longer—unless you guys were wanting it to be just a family thing,” you rushed to add, not wanting to overstay your welcome.

Your words were met with immediate protest from the rest of Mason’s family, each of them insisting that you stay, and Mason smiled down at you. “Yeah, what they said.”

You giggled, letting him lead you around to sit next to him on the couch, allowing yourself to sit a bit closer to him than you had earlier that afternoon.

Tony even offered for you to pick the film, but as soon as Summer had shouted her desire to watch Elf, you were all agreed.

Mason threw a fluffy blanket over both of your legs as the movie’s opening scene played. “Is this okay?” he whispered, trying not to draw anyone else’s attention and you nodded in return.

You tucked your legs under your body, allowing your knee to rest slightly on his thigh and your shoulder to lean onto his, now feeling more comfortable showing some affection around Mason’s family.

The movie played on, and your heart soared listening to Summer and Mila giggle and clap their hands at their favorite bits. You felt at home there with Mason and his family, all cozied up in his living room on the night of Christmas as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Your heart swelled with the love that you already felt for all of them, and though you knew it was still a bit soon, you couldn’t wait to get to know them and get to spend more time with them as your relationship with Mason developed.

As comfortable as you were and with all of the lights in the house turned off for the movie, you didn’t even realize your eyes were slipping closed until you jolted awake, recognizing the scene on the TV as one that was near to the end of the movie. Mason must have felt the sudden movement from where your head was resting on his shoulder, and he took your hand in his, running his thumbs over your knuckles to calm you, the same way he had done in the car earlier that day.

You nestled your head further into his shoulder, savoring the last few moments you had with Mason and his family before the movie ended.

It was over sooner than you would have liked, and everyone sat up from where they had sunk into the couch cushions, stretching and yawning. It was clear that everyone was exhausted from the day’s festivities. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, noticing Jaz and her husband quietly scooping up the girls from where they, too, had fallen asleep, and carried them down the hallway, seemingly to put them to bed.

“You ready to go home?” Mason asked you quietly as everyone began to rise from the couch. You nodded. “Okay, let me go grab my keys and we can head out.”

“Oh, Mason, I can just call an Uber or something, I don’t want to take you away from your family—”

“Absolutely not,” he cut you off. “You think I’m gonna let some stranger come pick you up and drive your back to your apartment?” You grinned at him, unable to find the words to answer him. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” His voice held an air of playful sarcasm.

Slowly, the two of you made your way to the front entrance. Everyone bade you goodbye as you made to leave. Debbie was sure to get a couple more hugs in before you left, insisting that you come around the next time they were up to visit, and you promised that you would.

Before long, you found yourself sitting in Mason’s car once again as he backed out into the street and set out on the route to your apartment. You were leaning across the center console of his car, leaning your head on his shoulder, and holding his free hand in yours.

You were feeling especially affectionate after the day you had, full of love for him and his family. The drive was silent as you listened to the music softly playing from his radio, no words needed to communicate to each other how you were feeling.

Before long, Mason pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex and insisted upon walking you up to your door, like the gentleman he always was.

As you reached your door, you turned to face him, giggling at the cliché of it all as you wrapped your arms around his torso. He pulled you in close to him, holding you tightly as he beamed down at you.

“Was your Christmas okay, then? Even though you didn’t get to spend it the way you usually do?”

“Mason, it was wonderful,” you smiled up at him, feeling like there were no words that would do justice for how the day had made you feel. “It was better than I ever could have imagined. Thank you for bringing me home with you today. I was honestly feeling awful after spending the morning by myself and this was the best Christmas miracle I could’ve ever dreamed up.”

Mason squeezed you a little tighter, pleased that his impulsive decision at the bakery to invite you to his home had worked out. “I’m so glad you were there. I’m so glad you got to meet them.”

“I am, too. And I’m glad I got to share this day with you.” Your heart felt like it was overflowing, and you could barely hold yourself together.

You snaked one of your hands around the back of Mason’s neck, threading your fingers into his hair and pulling him down to join your lips in a long but gentle kiss. It was the first one you had shared all day, as Mason had been waiting for you to initiate it first, but you couldn’t refrain from indulging yourself any longer. This was surely your favorite kiss that the two of you had shared, even more so than your first. It was so full of unspoken passion and love, and it left your head spinning when you finally pulled apart for air, foreheads still pressed together.

Mason couldn’t help but press two more quick pecks on your lips before finally pulling back to look at you. The two of you just smiled at each other for a moment, and you studied Mason’s features as you stood there.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Mason whispered, breaking the silence.

“Goodnight, Mason,” you replied. “Thank you for everything today.” Mason’s only response was a firm kiss on your forehead before he unwound his arms from your body, taking a couple of steps backward as he began heading back to his car.

You watched him walk down the hallway, glancing back at you with a wave before he rounded the corner, and you entered your apartment.

Closing your eyes and leaning against the closed door, you smiled to yourself. You may not have known Mason for long, but already, you were certain that this boy meant the absolute world to you, and his family had found their place securely in your heart.

tag list: @landoslover @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @brasiliangp @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti @chilwellspulisic @mm-vii @captainpulisic

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

For All I Care

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Asexual!Tav, Astarion x Bard!Tav

Astarion's POV, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Sick Fic, Astarion being bad with emotions, hints of one-sided Gale x Tav if you squint

Warning: Canon typical violence, violent thoughts toward Tav

Summary: After a fight with a hag, the rest of the party wakes up to find you still fighting for your life. Astarion feels himself at a loss, afraid and helpless in a way he has never felt before. And it's all your fault.

A/N: Just a gentle reminder that I have not played the game, so in terms of the exact placement on the timeline, it's a little sketchy. Just know that this is well before the events of I Want It All, and we'll call it good. And, as always, PLEASE REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO SURVIVE!

Word Count: 6.2K

If Astarion never saw a hag again, it would be too soon. Just one was more than enough for several lifetimes. The bitch was not only a sore to look at but hit like a brick wall. Even after a full night’s sleep aided by Shadowheart’s magic, he still felt stiff all over. 

The rest of camp wasn’t much better. The sun was almost fully overhead by the time everyone stumbled out of their bed rolls. All morning banter was replaced with mumbled greetings and not so subtle groans. Even Lae’zel remained quiet, seemingly too occupied with her own discomfort to comment on the weakness of everyone else. 

Astarion counted himself grateful for that. He didn’t think he could endure a lecture on top of an aching back. 

“Here we are,” Gale said, a little too cheerfully. “I know last night's excursion was rather strenuous, but if this doesn’t cure what ails you, nothing will. No offense, Shadowheart.” 

“I would take offense, but I’m frankly too tired to care,” she countered, dryly. 

Gale gave a good natured laugh before handing her a bowl of something hot. 

The pout on her face fell away as soon as she took her first bite. The rest weren’t far behind, the low murmur of pain turning to something more pleasant. 

Astarion observed, doing his best to push down the bite on envy in his chest. He could eat, technically, but it went right through him, not even granting him the temporary relief of a full stomach. If it didn’t smell appetizing, he wouldn’t mind so much, but it did. Yet another minor torture of his existence. 

Eventually Gale did turn his gaze to him, that annoyingly persistent enthusiasm faltering.

“Do you…ah, require a refreshment?”

Deciding to have some fun, Astarion gave him his best seductive smirk.

“Very much,” he purred. “However, if you’re the one offering, I’ll pass. I’ve got someone much more appetizing in mind.”

He turned his head towards your tent, and immediately frowned. You still hadn’t made an appearance. Granted you were always one to rest in, but this was getting ridiculous. 

Gale followed his eye line, grimacing as he came to a similar conclusion. 

“Might need to hold off on that. They got it pretty rough last night.”

“I’ll go check on them,” Wyll volunteered, pouring a fresh bowl of stew. “If anything will get them out of bed, this will.” He then turned to Astarion, giving him a hard look. “Try to keep your fangs to yourself until they’ve eaten something.”

He answered with a mocking pout. “Oh mother, must I?”

Wyll didn’t raise to the bait, rolling his one good eye before making his way towards your tent. 

Something odd twisted inside Astarion. He was struck with the sudden urge to trip the man. Childish perhaps, but he just couldn’t stand that tone of altruistic condescension. He would have spoken up if Wyll hadn’t beaten him to it. He was rather partial to the idea of you and him sharing breakfast in bed. It would only be breakfast, but he wasn’t in a position to try for more. At the very least, it would be a convenient excuse to check on you himself.

Gale hadn’t been exaggerating. You had gotten the brunt of the hag’s attention, running between everyone to provide whatever aid you could. By the time you made it back to camp, you could barely stand, skipping your nightly check-ins in favor of falling straight into your tent and a soundless sleep.

This troubled him in a way he couldn’t properly explain.  It wasn’t like he needed you to tuck him in, but he had grown accustomed to your face being the last he saw before closing his eyes. He knew the others appreciated it as well. It was how you had found yourself as the leader of this merry band. You weren’t the strongest or the most powerful, you simply took the time to care.

It should have bothered him more. Gods knew he clashed with Wyll and Karlach on more than one occasion concerning their bleeding heart heroics. Perhaps it was because your heart always put the party first. You’d extend it to others, but never to the point it needlessly put them and, more importantly, him in danger. 

You just…helped, with clear eyed understanding and so little fanfare it made it easy to forget just how much you did, until the moment you couldn’t. 

He blinked hard, mentally yanking himself from wherever his mind was leading him. 

He wouldn’t feed on you today, he decided. There had to be some boar or deer around. It’d be best if they stay put another day anyhow. No need to rush into the next life or death scenario.

“Shadowheart! Gale!”

Everyone turned, to see Wyll running from your tent. The two spellcasters were up the next second, all exhaustion rushing from their bodies, readying for a fight. 

“What’s going on?” Gale asked.

“I don’t know. Something’s wrong with Tav.”

“What? How?” Shadowheart interjected. “They were fine last night. I healed them myself.”

Wyll shook his head. “That may be, but they’re not waking up.”

“We better have a look then,” Gale said, with an authority that left no room for argument. He took the lead, the two others falling quickly behind. 

Astarion stayed where he was, frozen. There was a hard twisting in his gut. He could feel the hair rise on the back of his neck as the sudden need to run shot through his veins. He recognized the symptoms; fear was an emotion he was intimately familiar with.

Before he realized what was happening, he was on his feet, taking long strides towards your tent. 

It couldn’t be as bad as Wyll was making it sound. Admittedly, you had been run rather ragged, but nothing the rest of them hadn’t felt. Perhaps he had taken one bite too many. This was nothing. You were fine. You were supposed to be fine. 

He stopped at the threshold, pushing aside the flap. 

Whatever breath he had in his lungs rushed out in an instant. 

The first thing that hit him was the smell. It clung to the inside of his nose reeking of damp sickness. Your body was drenched in sweat, your hair plastered to your forehead in soaked clumps. He swore he could feel the heat of your skin burning. Your breath came ragged as if someone had wrapped an invisible hand around your throat and was slowly choking the life out of you. He could see how your body twitched and jerked. It was taking both Shadowheart and Wyll to keep your limbs in check as Gale mumbled some enchantment over your body. 

His hand gripped hard on the fabric. He needed to take a step back. He had little experience with disease, but it was plain enough that whatever this was didn’t play by any rules he was familiar with. The survivor in him screamed to use this perfect distraction to grab whatever he could carry and run. Still, he didn’t move. 

“What’s wrong with them?” he said, his voice rough even to his ears. 

“I don’t know,” Gale admitted, clearly disturbed. “I haven’t seen anything like this before.”

“They were fine,” Shadowheart insisted. “I healed them, and they went to bed. Nothing else happened.”

“There were a lot of spells being thrown around last night. Maybe they were hit with something the rest of us weren’t,” Wyll suggested. 

“Oh Gods,” Karlach said, just behind Astarion’s shoulder. “Do you think it’s the tadpoles?”

Something heavy sunk straight into his stomach at her words. It certainly was a possibility. They all knew the symptoms, but why now? Why you? 

There was a slight rustle of movement just behind him. Lae’zel by the smell. A quick look out of the corner of his eye saw her standing just behind Karlach. Her back was stiff and her expression hardened in a way he had come to recognize. 

He never moved faster in his life. 

Before anyone could react, he ducked under Karlach’s arm, knocking Lae’zel off her feet. Her sword scattered clear of her grip, skittering into the grass. She fell with a hard thump as he used the momentum to trap her under the weight of his body and dagger at her throat. 

“Now, what were you planning to do with that,” he said, as smooth as a knife. 

Her surprise was evident, but quickly overtaken by a low growl straight from her chest. 

“Unhand me, or I will unhand you.”

“Might need the sword for that.”

“Oi! What’s going on?” Karlach said, finally turning towards the scene. 

“If it is the tadpoles, we cannot risk them turning,” Lae’zel snapped. “I am prepared to do what is necessary.” 

Red blinded Astarion’s vision, a hiss escaping his lips as they pulled back to show bared fangs.

“Necessary?”

“We don’t know that yet,” Wyll said, stepping beside Karlach. “Just think a moment. If it was the tadpoles, wouldn’t all of us have felt something by now?”

Lae’zel ignored him, her eyes turning straight to Astarion’s. Her expression lost none of its fury, but there was a coldness to it that forced an air of calm. 

“You know I’m right,” she held. 

His jaw clenched. He did know. If even one of them turned into a mind flayer the rest were bound to follow. Killing you would be the logical thing to do to preserve his own survival. Still, it wasn’t your neck he was poised to cut. 

“Nobody is killing anyone!” Wyll interjected. “Gale and Shadowheart will figure out what’s wrong with Tav. In the meantime, we are not going to do anything we would sooner regret.”

“Astarion?” Karlach said, cautiously. 

There was a long pause. He could feel their eyes burning the back of his skull, but neither stepped closer. It was easy to imagine what he looked like; half crazed, teeth bared and blade ready. Not his best moment. 

With what grace he could muster, he pulled away, quickly putting some distance between himself and Lae’zel.

She got to her feet, decidedly not reaching for her weapon as her eyes moved between the three of them. 

“They live for now,” she allowed. “But if Tav does turn, you know what we’ll have to do.”

Astarion’s spine stiffened. The dagger twitched in his hand, just in time for Karlach to step between them.

“Walk away Lae’zel,” she said, sternly. “I’m not kidding.” 

Lae’zel’s brow furrowed, her face twisting in disgust. “Tsk'va,” she cursed. “Cowards. All of you.” 

She turned then, picking up her sword before making her way back to her tent. 

Once she was a good distance away, some of the tension left Karlach’s shoulders as she pulled her attention back to him. 

“You okay?” Karlach asked.

“Well, I certainly haven’t made any new friends,” Astarion said, his voice tighter than he intended. He glanced over at Wyll. “I take it still no answers?”

Wyll gave a long sigh. “Gale said he’ll need more time to detect the exact cause. He doesn’t think it’s the tadpoles, but there’s no telling just yet. Luckily, Shadowheart was able to calm them enough to sleep. At the very least they’re no longer at risk of hurting themselves.” 

“So what do we do?” Karlach asked. 

“Wait. This isn’t something we can fight. Gale and Shadowheart will do what they can, but ultimately, this is Tav’s battle.” 

Astarion bit back a growl as red once again danced across his vision. 

Wait? That was the fabled Blade of Frontier’s brilliant plan? Hells below was everyone in this camp completely useless?! He didn’t need to be a cleric to know what was happening. He knew what dying smelled like and none of them, not a single one, could think of an actual, tangible solution besides wait?

Forget tripping the man, it was taking every single ounce of restraint to keep from strangling him. 

Draining the last of his patience, he turned on his heel, and made his way towards the treeline. 

“Where are you going?” Wyll called. 

“To go kill something,” Astarion spat. “Unless you want me to stay here and do it.” 

Wyll looked like he was going to say something that would put his neck in Astarion’s teeth, but Karlach spoke up first. 

“We’ll make sure Lae’zel keeps her distance. Don’t wander too far.”

Astarion didn’t have an answer. He just managed a tight nod before continuing out of camp and out of sight. 

He didn’t know how long he walked. He just knew that by the time he stopped the sun was much lower in the sky. The sounds of his companions deafened in the overgrowth leaving him well and truly alone. 

A shuddering breath escaped his lungs. Whatever strength in his limbs left him. He only just managed to catch himself on a tree as his hands began to shake. 

What in the nine hells had he been thinking? 

Well, that was the trick, wasn’t it? He hadn’t been thinking. Fear had been driving him and he had done as he always did when fear took over; he found a way to survive, damn anyone who got in his way. The difference was, it wasn’t his life that was in danger. When had your survival become so vital to his? 

He knew he was reliant on you to keep him safe from Cazador. You were the only one who trusted him. Without your vote of confidence, chances are he would have been left to his own devices a long time ago. He needed you alive if he were to maintain the protection of the others. And he had put that protection in direct threat by holding a knife to one of the group’s best fighters. 

He let out a frustrated groan, rubbing his face in his hands. 

Fuck, this was a disaster. He had never been particularly gifted when it came to strategy. It was difficult to anticipate consequences when he never knew what fresh hell awaited him in the morning. Compound that feeling by two hundred years and it was no wonder all his plans fell apart. 

Even if you did survive, he still had no way of guaranteeing you would stay loyal to him. All his attempts at seduction had failed.  You certainly enjoyed his company, and he was sure you gave him more attention than the others, but he didn’t know what you wanted. Every single day he waited for you to name your price and every single day you failed to answer. It was driving him to insanity.  

No wonder he had been so quick to draw his blade. Any grasp he had on safety was already hanging by an invisible thread. 

He let out a deep breath, forcing himself to calm. There was little he could control at the moment, but he could control himself. It was a new sensation, one he was still getting used to. He’d have an easier time of it once he fed. 

Blood of thinking beings was out for the moment. He’d have to settle for something big and preferably angry. There would be nothing elegant about this hunt. 

He got his wish. While he might have preferred a bear, the raging boar did well enough for his purposes.

It was an ugly kill. He didn’t just bite the beast. He tore into its neck so deeply the bones of its neck became exposed to the open air alongside bloodied muscle. His hands did the rest, ripping it fully open so the innards spilled out onto the forest floor. In the end, he didn’t even get much blood out of it, allowing the earth to become wet with carnage. 

He breathed it in, hoping it would somehow erase the smell of your convulsing body from his mind. 

It didn’t work. 

Even with fresh blood in his mouth, he could only think of your labored breaths and racing heart. The relief of sated hunger became tainted by the taste of sickness on his tongue.

He forced himself back on his feet, not bothering to wipe away the blood as he stumbled further into the forest. 

There was nothing he could do. He’d sooner drain the life from you than save it. It was baked into his nature; a disease in his own right.  

If he just had a target, something he could trick or kill, it would be different. Instead he was left to wait; useless…powerless. 

His hands clenched, his nails digging into his palms to the point of pain. 

Surely he didn’t need you so badly. If you died, he would just have to refocus his efforts on somebody else; Shadowheart perhaps, or even Gale. He wasn’t about to get sentimental now. He would survive you as he had done countless others. This wasn’t his end.

He found a deer next, performing the same ritualistic slaughter. Blood filled him. He could feel his mind becoming clear, but it wasn’t enough. He moved onto a burrow of rabbits, then a badger, and even a weasel. It was only when he caught himself seriously contemplating gutting a squirrel did he realize how futile it was. All the blood in the world couldn’t make up for his inherent weakness. 

He had grown too dependent on you. It was making him sloppy, unbalanced. Maybe you were better off dead. He would be free then. 

That was the point of this whole venture wasn’t it? To be free. Free of Cazador. Free of fear. And here he was ready to chain himself to another just because they’d shown him a bit of kindness. What was that kindness worth when the loss of it inspired a terror he'd never known before.

A fury rose within him, one he clung to like a lifeline. 

This was all your fault. You brought him to this. How could he possibly forgive you?

He let the anger fester as he took the time to clean himself up. Blood caked his hands up to his elbows with tendons stuck under his fingernails. It took several washes in a nearby stream to get it all out. He counted himself lucky his shirt had managed to escape most of the viscera. The last thing he wanted was an interrogation. 

He needn’t have worried. It was well after dark by the time he crept back to camp. All was still, in the same way a body became when holding its breath. 

He spotted Gale easily enough as he poured over some tome, his lips moving along with the words. Lae’zel and Wyll sat together, polishing their weapons without exchanging a word. Shadowheart looked to be meditating while Karlach sat next to the fire, brow furrowed while throwing the occasional stick into the flames. 

Aside from the faint scrap of stone on metal, not a sound came from any of them. 

Against his own will, his gaze turned to your tent.

It struck him then, why the quiet filled him with such dread. 

By now a steady flow of strings should be teasing the edge of his ears. You seemed convinced a half inch of fabric was enough to muffle your rehearsals. None of them bothered to correct this assumption. On more than one occasion, he found himself forgetting the book in his hand as he listened to you work out some new melody. There was something about the way you played, as if each note lifted a burden on your soul. And if the night wasn’t filled with your music, it was touched by your voice. 

You had a way of sparking conversation, sharing countless stories while encouraging the others to do the same. You knew when to listen, when to comment and just when to laugh to make the telling all the sweeter. He spent more time than he cared to admit thinking about how to pull that sound to your lips. He found it had the same effect on him as your plucking.

Then there were the rare times, when banter dwindled and everyone became lost in their own thoughts, he could make out a song just under your breath, an unconscious hum to accompany your work. 

It brought a comfort he couldn’t describe, one he hadn’t realized he needed, until it was gone. 

With quick steps he made his way to you, slipping into your tent with not even the barest rustle of fabric.

He’d never been in your tent before. If it were any other day, he’d be taking the time to examine every inch of it, but all he could focus on was you. 

You were so still. An improvement from before, but not an especially encouraging one.  It was clear from the perfectly arranged pillows you hadn’t moved since Shadowheart put you back to sleep.  The only hint you were alive was that barest intake and outtake of breath.

His jaw tightened, his body tensing as a growing panic rose within him. 

No, this was good. You were stable, for now. He still had options, more time to plan. He didn’t have to make any decisions tonight. Best he left and waited to see what the morning would bring.

You took a sharp intake of breath, slightly deeper than before. Your eyes twitched behind your lids and then you settled.

He paused, glancing to the entrance, half expecting somebody to come rushing in.  He was surprised nobody was in here with you, or at the very least watching the door. He had slipped by without so much as a “hey you”. Any vagrant could just wander in. 

He could end it right now. All it would take was one quick slice. The picture became clear; a single surprised gasp, the smell of your blood and then…silence. Forever. 

Bile rose in his throat. He shut his eyes trying to will the image away as that new desperate terror threatened to drown him all over again.  

Damn you. Damn you to every circle of the hells! 

The gods were mocking him. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. He couldn’t just like you. No, he had to go and start caring.  

A small whimper broke through his thoughts. Your head jerked, your brows pinching in distress. 

Shadowheart. He needed to get Shadowheart, or Gale, or Wyll. Hells, she may not be able to touch you, but Karlach would undoubtedly have a better bedside manner. Besides Lae’zel he was the worst person suited for this. Gods, what was he even doing here? 

You took a sharp intake of breath, flinching away from something only you could see. 

He was on his knees the next second. 

Your body settled, but your breathing came hard and fast. At least it wasn’t rasping. 

His hands hovered over you, unsure of what to do. He had officially given up on the idea of leaving. He’d just have to improvise the rest. 

Hesitantly, he let his fingers brush across your forehead, pushing aside a few of the loose strands. You were hot to the touch, but he took comfort in the fact you weren’t sweating as you were before. Whatever had taken hold of you that morning, it seemed to have loosened its grip. 

You began to calm, a soft murmur of contentment stumbling from your lips. 

The irony was not lost on him, but it didn’t stop a part of him from melting at the sound. 

“Now that’s hardly playing fair, darling,” he whispered. “I’m trying to be angry with you.”

You didn’t answer except for a sigh as you turned your head, following his touch. 

He allowed himself to linger for a moment before placing the back of his hand against your skin to feel it properly. You really were much too warm. The relief you were expressing no doubt came more from his body temperature than his caresses. 

Slowly, he pulled away as he glanced around the small space. There had to be a water skin in here somewhere. Surely the idiots would know better than to leave you to burn yourself from the inside out. 

A soft groan caught his attention as he spun back to you. 

You shifted under the blankets, rolling back and forth as if to get loose of your cocoon. Your eyes darted quickly behind your lids. Another huff of breath and then, all at once, there you were.

“Tav?” he breathed. 

Your eyes were bleary. Your skin was sallow. Your hair was a mess. Everything around him smelled of sweat and sick. And for a moment, he swore he could feel his heart beat again. 

A hint of a smile touched the corner of your mouth, your brows rising slightly. 

“Tav? Must be pretty bad then.”

He had to laugh. It was a short, strangled thing, and just about the only thing he could do to keep the stinging in his eyes at bay.

“Worse,” he said, managing to gain some hold on himself. “Of course, it must be said, your worse is most best.” 

You huffed out a small laugh of your own, which quickly turned into a series of dry coughs. 

He straightened in alarm before quickly spotting the water skin hanging on the center pole of the tent. Thankfully it was full, allowing him to waste no time lifting your head as he guided the water into your mouth. 

As soon as the liquid met your tongue you scrambled for more, pushing yourself further up to guzzle the rest. 

“Easy,” he warned, pulling back the container. “Can’t have you choking to death after all of that.”

You gave a slight sputter, proving his point as you caught your breath.  “Sorry. Just thirsty.” 

“Clearly,” he quipped. “Do you need more?”

You averted your eyes, your expression turning suddenly sheepish. “Please?”

As tempting as it was, he decided to save his teasing for later.  It was always more fun when you could give it right back anyway. 

He lifted your head, resting it on his lap before guiding the lip of the lid back to yours. 

“Slowly this time,” he cautioned.  

Your muscles tensed with restraint, but you followed his lead, taking no more than he gave. 

He tried to ignore the tight feeling in his chest. His mind flickered to his own thirst and, for a moment, he could see his own desperation reflected in your eyes. 

Something stirred inside him; an ache he didn’t recognize. He’d do just about anything to keep that look from marring your face ever again. 

Once you’d gotten a few more mouthfuls he pulled the water skin away, setting it down on the floor beside you. 

“Thank you,” you said, your voice still a little rough, but an obvious improvement. 

“Don’t mention it,” he said. “To anyone.”

“Don’t worry, nobody would believe me anyway,” you teased. 

“Truer words.” 

Without really thinking, he let his palm rest on your forehead. He had already gotten a sense of your temperature, but the way your eyes closed as you relaxed into his touch was too good to pass up.   

“How are you feeling?” he asked. 

“Like a band of goblins decided to make a riot of my insides,” you admitted, before turning your gaze upward. “What about you?”

“Me?”

Your mouth turned in an apologetic half smile. “No offense, but you look a bit ragged. Did something happen?”

He blinked, surprised by the sudden flash of anger your question inspired. Of course he was a bit ragged. You had started this morning on the verge of death, the knowledge of which had been torturing him for near on…oh, who bloody cared how long. And yet you had the audacity to ask if something happened, as if that wasn’t enough; as if you weren’t enough.  

It must have shown on his face, as your brows furrowed in concern. 

“Astarion?”

He mentally shook himself, pushing down the emotion as best he could. 

“Don’t worry about me, darling. Let’s focus on getting you better.” 

You frowned, your lips parting as if to say something when the entrance of the tent burst open. 

“Hey, thought I heard your voice!” Karlach said, with a beaming smile. “Good to see you awake soldier. Told’em you’d bounce back, just a matter of time. Shadowheart! Gale! Tav’s awake! Astarion is with ‘em.”

Astarion prickled at the announcement. He didn’t need the entire camp knowing his business. He had decided to sneak back for a reason. Surely nobody had seen him. 

He got his answer, as Karlach turned back, lowering her voice. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said. “Noticed you slip in earlier. Thought I’d leave you to watch Tav, but then I heard talking and well…you know.” 

“Yes, thank you,” he clipped, hoping the note of embarrassment would be blamed on getting caught and not…other things. 

“Thanks Karlach,” you said, smoothing over any lingering tension. 

“Don’t even think about it. Few more rounds of healing and you’ll be right as rain.” She then turned her gaze to him. “You got’em?”

His brow furrowed slightly. He could say no. Gale and Shadowheart would need space to do their work. It would be the perfect excuse to walk away and try to forget any of this happened. 

He glanced down at you, your head still resting in his lap. 

You looked so fragile. It was a word he had never thought to use before when describing you. The sound of it rang with a dissonance that made his hair stand on end. Still you managed a half smile, your head tilting as silent permission to leave if he wanted. 

And what exactly would he do if he left; wait in the dark, just as helpless as before. He may not be able to do much, but he could do this. It was better than nothing. 

He turned back to Karlach, his purpose clear. “I’ve got them.”

She didn’t say anything back, simply nodding in acknowledgement before dipping out, and allowing Shadowheart and Gale to enter. 

Shadowheart immediately took a place beside you, her hands glowing with magic as she got to work. Gale, meanwhile, remained standing seemingly unsure of what to do. 

Astarion couldn’t help but notice the way the wizard’s eyes shifted awkwardly between you and him. Some petty part of him felt vindicated in staying. Apparently he had taken his designated spot. 

“Glad to see you awake,” Shadowheart said. 

“So am I, funny enough,” you said. “What happened?”

“Nasty bit of business,” Gale explained. “That hag didn’t hold anything back. Combination of cause fear, ray of sickness, a few other bits of spell work and bestowed curse to keep them all knotted together. The healing magic Shadowheart gave you last night was able to mend your physical wounds, but little else. 

“Luckily once we were able to identify the spells, I was able to untangle most of the effects and pluck that curse right out. All told, it looked much worse than it was. With the hag dead, it appears your body has been able to fight off most of the remaining effects on its own. Honestly, if you were at full capacity at the start of the fight, it likely wouldn’t have gotten as bad as it did. Much easier to recover when all your blood is inside your body.” 

Gale’s eyes flicked over to Astarion. 

His jaw clenched, knowing full well what the wizard was implying, but he wasn’t about to admit he was right. 

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I take an arrow to the shoulder,” you said, dryly. “Just don’t bleed.”

Shadowheart gave a short laugh. “Good to see your sense of humor is intact.”

Astarion and Gale broke eye contact allowing whatever argument was about to ensue to die on their lips. There were more important things to worry about. 

“What can I say, I’m a born entertainer,” you said, ruefully before turning your gaze evenly among the three of them. “I’m sorry to have caused so much trouble.” 

“No trouble at all,” Gale assured. “When compared to Karlach’s engine or my own condition, this is little more than a sniffle.” He glanced over to Shadowheart. “Anything I can do?”

“Honestly, there’s not much even I can do at this point,” she admitted. “We’ll just have to see how you feel in the morning. One of us should stay with you at least, in case something happens.”

“I’ll do it,” Astarion said, earning shocked looks from both spellcasters.  He did so particularly love the look on Gale’s face. 

“You’re sure?” Gale said, skeptically. 

He gave a nonchalant shrug. “I’m not planning to sleep much anyway. And don’t worry, I’m just as capable of yelling as anyone else in this camp. Besides, I doubt either of you are going to be much use to anyone in a few hours.”

Gale looked like he wanted to argue, but not before you spoke up.

“He has a point,” you said. “The pair of you have done enough as is. I’m feeling a lot better already. I’ll be fine.” 

“Alright,” Gale relented, with a grimace. “There’s some stew in that container there if you get hungry. See if you can keep some food down. And if they so much as twitch in their sleep–”

“I’ll handle it,” Astarion cut off with a sharpness that left no room for dispute. 

Gale appeared taken aback. So did Shadowheart for that matter, but Astarion couldn’t bring himself to care. You had in a very polite, roundabout way told them to leave. His job was to make it clear how much better that would be for everyone’s health. 

Both Gale and Shadowheart got the message, ducking out without another word. 

Astarion waited, counting down a solid minute to make sure nobody else would come barging in. Only when he was certain they were gone did he finally allow his body to relax. 

“You don’t have to stay.”

He pulled his attention back to you, his brows furrowing. 

 “I really am feeling a lot better,” you insisted. “I’ll be alright.”

His instinct was to argue. He wasn’t in the mood for any more quiet heroics from you, but something in your eyes gave him pause. 

“Do you want me to go?” he asked. 

“I…” You swallowed. The emotion in your voice was clear even from that one word. “You don’t–”

“Do you want me to go?” he repeated. 

For a long moment, you didn’t say a word. 

He waited for the predictable guilt to appear, an obvious sign of your irritating selflessness with maybe an apology thrown in on the side. There were hints of it, yes, but something else lingered, moving across your features despite your best efforts to bury it away. 

“No,” you confessed, with a yearning deeper than he felt he had any right to know. 

He thought back on what you told him, the bits and pieces you shared about your life. It was never obvious, just comments that slipped through, as if by accident. 

You didn’t know your mother. Your father was little more than a memory. You never mentioned any siblings. A flurry of names and faces filled your stories from across Faerun, but they never stayed the same between tellings. Now that he gave it proper thought, he couldn’t think of a single one of them you had named friend. 

He had to wonder how many nights you suffered through a fever alone, how many times you bandaged your own wounds and kept your own company on long nights in the middle of nowhere. 

You hadn’t given him permission to go out of the kindness of your heart. You had expected him to. You just wanted to give yourself the illusion of control over when. 

And yet, you asked him to stay. 

“Well, that settles it,” he soothed. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Your lips parted as if to say something more, but you closed it again swallowing the words back down. 

He counted himself grateful. He was liable to say any number of foolish things if you let him. 

Slowly, your eyes began to droop as sleep overcame you once more. 

As promised, he didn’t move, not daring to so much as shift your head. 

Maybe…maybe this was your price. He couldn’t be sure. He doubted he would ever be sure of anything with you, but maybe this was what you wanted; somebody to care. 

It was a dangerous notion. He had never provided anything real before. The concern he felt for you now was against his will. If he started caring for you on purpose, who knew where that might lead; the things he would be willing to do, all for you. 

He blinked the thought away. He was getting ahead of himself. A little went a long way, especially with you. Honestly, it would be almost too easy; a kind word here, a helpful hand there, and he would have you curled around his finger in no time. It wasn’t so different from what he had done before. All he needed to do was not care anymore than he already did. Nothing he couldn’t handle. He could stop any time he wanted. 

It was the thought that kept him through the night, the one he repeated to himself as he came as close to holding you as he dared. 

He had a plan now. What could possibly go wrong? 

Taglist: @bambamwolf87

[starlost-mochi-x]

raspberries - hwang hyunjin

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

summary: hyunjin comforts you after a long, painful day

genre: idk!au, soft hyunjin, really angsty, comfort, fluffy, sad, reader is depressed and is having a tough time, mention of throwing up, mentions of eating and ed, please be safe, and remember that you are loved

a/n: sad :( also requests open

You storm through the front door, almost tripping over before tugging off your shoes and slamming the door shut. Huffing, and on the verge of tears, you trudge down the hallway, every single step aching with a week's worth of disappointments, one after the other.

Entering the bedroom, you throw yourself on the bed, rolling over. Tugging off your work shirt, you groan and run tired, aching hands through your hair, just before the nauseating sense of overwhelm sets in.

You bury your face in the bedding and cry.

.

"Love, I'm home," Hyunjin calls from the doorway.

He's busy kicking off his shoes, about to leave them in their haphazard position on the floor, before he notices something. Your own shoes are strewn messily in the gangway, something that normally never happens.

Hyunjin can recall hundreds of times when you'd made him retrace his steps to the door and put his shoes away neatly in the cupboard. It was a familiar and somewhat comforting routine (though a little unnecessary, Hyunjin thinks).

He frowns before picking each shoe up and putting them carefully in the cupboard. Satisfied, he begins moving through the hallway, before quickly retracing his steps and putting his own footwear meticulously into the cupboard next to yours.

Hyunjin moves through the house, peeking into each room, trying to find you. He pokes his head into the bedroom, immediately noticing your spreadeagled state. He chuckles before moving to your dazed form, lying face down on the mattress.

Hyunjin pokes your side. Nothing.

He figures you're asleep before his hand moves to your hair, ruffling it gently. You let out a muffled whine and shake your head, batting his hand away.

Retracting his hand in surprise and mild confusion, Hyunjin peers down at you as you raise your head. His brow furrows in concern as your eyes meet his.

You look miserable.

Lowering his voice, Hyunjin kneels by the bed, cooing softly.

"Hi," he says quietly. "What happened, my muse?"

A fresh wave of tears fills your eyes and you choke back a cry, mouth parting in distress. Hyunjin is immediately next to you, tugging you gently into his lap, rocking back and forth. Sweet nothings and whispered reassurances leave his mouth in a steady, comforting stream, but his usually soothing voice does nothing to calm your frazzled nerves.

It's all too much.

You sob like a child, leaning into Hyunjin. He notices with some worry how your shoulders are tightening in anxiety, and your hands that are balled into fists, clutching his shirt. Like you don't want him to leave, like he might disappear at any given moment.

You don't know how long it's been before your sobs quieten down. Hyunjin is still rocking you gently, kissing the crown of your forehead every now and then. You raise your head and look at him with red, puffy, exhausted eyes, cheeks streaked with hot, sticky tears.

Hyunjin smiles warmly at you regardless, seemingly not minding the large, soaked patch on his white shirt or the mess you've made of your hair and face. The adoring look in his eyes makes you want to cry and sob into him for another hour. It feels like it's been an hour.

At least, your current feelings are so overwhelming that you can do nothing but open your mouth, staring up at Hyunjin like he's the cure. But the usual, pretty, princely smile doesn't penetrate your heart with a beam of sunlight, and the sky outside feels so much dimmer. Everything feels lonely, like you're a sinking stone, trapped under the cool, dark, icy surface, chilled to the bone.

Like you're watching everything going on above water, where there is warmth and smiles and laughter and compassion, while you sink to the bottom of the deep, dark ocean, heavy and burdened and forgotten.

Hyunjin has been speaking for the last few minutes, his voice careful and soft, but you haven't been listening, too occupied with the numbing, aching feeling settling unpleasantly in the pit of your gut. An uncomfortable cloud of guilt settles over your head, sinking into your being and infusing through your skin like the cloying, sharp scent of cheap perfume.

Your head begins to swirl with a mass of racing thoughts, so fast you can't even comprehend. You feel like you're being squeezed, the life draining out of you, the edges of your vision blurring and darkening.

It's not enough. You're not enough, nothing will ever be good enough, no wonder people don't like you, why can't you just be normal, why can't you just be normal-

"Love, you need to breathe, okay? In and out for me, come on. You can do it."

He sounds so far away...

"Jinnie," you choke out, heaving. Tears stream down your stained cheeks.

"I'm here, I'll always be here, okay?"

You shake your head, sobbing. Your hands are tingling but you can vaguely feel something solid and warm against your palm. Looking up with a tremendous amount of effort, you notice Hyunjin pressing your palm to his heart. Through a haze of tears, you can feel the steady, solid thrum of his heart against your tingling, shaking fingertips.

"You're safe, okay? I'm gonna stay right here with you, just breathe in and out, you can do it, love. You're doing so well."

You choke in a heaving breath and Hyunjin coos encouragingly, still rocking you gently in his lap. Your breathing begins to even out, albeit extremely slowly.

Hyunjin doesn't let go.

.

You wake to something cold and damp being swiped gently across your face. Spluttering, you shove it away before sitting bolt upright, immediately regretting it as you feel the strength pour out of your body in a dizzying wave.

Hyunjin pushes you to lie back gently against the pillows, picking up the damp cloth and continuing to wipe gently at your stained, sticky cheeks and nose. You flush, feeling a bit pathetic, but he doesn't seem to care. His voice is soft.

"You fell asleep again, so I laid you down. What happened, hmm?"

You sniffle. "Everything is a mess."

Hyunjin nods understandingly, cooing as your hands come up to gently clutch at his wrist. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

You shake your head, even that simple motion feeling like a test of ultimate strength. And you're losing the battle.

Hyunjin lets out a soft noise, gesturing to the bedside. "That's okay. Whenever you're ready, my muse. I just want you to drink water and eat something, and then we can do whatever you want."

You sniff and look to your right. On the bedside is a bottle of water, a hydration sachet, a couple of painkillers, and a little bowl of something fresh and red.

You look at Hyunjin, voice croaky. "Raspberries?"

He smiles, nodding. "Bought them this morning. It'll help you feel better, they're really good."

"Jinnie-"

"You need to eat something, okay?" Hyunjin's voice is soft but firm. "Please. It'll help, I promise. You've been running on fumes lately."

You look away guiltily, feeling a bit sick. Hyunjin's long, slender fingers come up to your face, the other holding one of the little berries.

You sigh and relent, chewing slowly on the fruit. And he's right. They are really good.

Hyunjin smiles proudly, like you've done something incredibly amazing. Ruefully, you think that in his eyes, you probably have. And it makes you feel just a tiny bit better inside.

He kisses your forehead. "I'm going to get changed, and then we can watch a movie or cuddle, or do whatever you want, okay?"

You nod silently, exhausted.

Hyunjin leaves and shuts the bathroom door, leaving you with the bowl of little red fruits. You eat slowly, nibbling, not wanting it all to come back up. Every movement is an effort, but slowly, you feel your strength ebbing back in tiny, flowing rivers.

The sky outside lightens, just a little.

a/n: *incoherent sobbing* *sniff sniff*

[lamnwar]

Cure to fatigue // Midorima Shintarō x Fem!Reader

MDNI 18+ knb kinktober entry!!

A/N: a short one but the tenderness of the thing makes me all aaaaaah `(*>﹏<*)′

Context: Nothing makes Shintarō happier than coming back to his pretty one.

Warnings: Sleepy sex, slight groping, cockwarming, Midorima is tired but fully conscious, reader is implied dominant, making Midorima whimper!! 🤭

Ever since Shintarō Midorima met you, coming home is the one thing he’s looking for. The warmth of his bed with you in it, a disconnect from reality when he meets you in the sheets – how can he not await that time of the day?

You’re conditioned to spot the sound of the key turning in the lock at the late hours of the night. Even in the deepest slumber – which you can’t really get into without him around – you will wake up naturally. Something about seeing his tired frame walk into the room, a lazy kiss on your forehead as he mumbles about his day; and your heart will fill of warmth knowing that you are in love with such a hard worker. Faint whiff of expensive perfume trailing behind him while he walks to the bathroom, where a warm bath awaits for him. It’s a sort of comfort, knowing that he’ll always come back home to you. You might wait a bit too long for him some days, but it’s all pointless because he always find you, naturally, instinctively.

“How have you been?” he coos when he walks out looking all fresh, safe for the bags under his eyes.

Shintarō has always looked so vulnerable without his glasses – long eyelashes giving him the look of an innocent creature, so far from the composed man who tries so hard to keep his head on his shoulders.

“The usual” you chuckle, he doesn’t need more to know about you. “Always happier when you’re home.”

“Don’t grow so dependent on me, you’re much more capable of blooming without me.”

You laugh softly, finding your way to his lap as he looks at you, slightly confused. From what he’s just said, he ‘s rather expecting you to slap him across the chest and tell him that he has no right to talk about himself that way. But here you are, leaning forward as your fingers thread the skin of his face delicately.

“Don’t be silly.”

He hums, nuzzling against your touch. You’re so soft to him, that he can fall asleep right there in the palm of your hand. You watch as his heavy eyelids flutter, lazy kisses on your hands as even his lips seem to be too tired. You can’t help the pang in your chest when you watch the exhaustion on his face – that’s your love, overworked and drained, but he never says no to giving you affection at the late hours of the night. He doesn’t push you away when you give him a soft kiss on the lips; no, he wouldn’t dream of doing something so foolish, not when your love is the one thing that gives him energy.

Throughout the years of being with you, Shintarō has learned many new things about him. The fact that he can blush quite easily, for one, and that he sometimes likes to be the small spoon despite being the biggest of you two. He likes home dates – candlelit dinners that you’ve cooked together, and the pleasure of seeing you smile under the dim light. He’s also learned how happy it makes him when you do his nails for him, kissing his manicured fingers in between because he's just that perfect.

And more importantly, Shintarō has learned that nothing brings him to life quite like your touch.

The feel of your tongue against his in a lazy make-out, your fingers scraping tenderly his nape, the scent of your skin so close to his. Your hips and their slow grinds on his lap, the heat of your cunt against his growing bulge and the sweet sighs and whimpers that you sing in his ear. He can sense the blood flowing in his body, so responsive to you like he’s wired to. It doesn’t matter how tired his brain is, when it comes to you, he’s got the most clarity ever.

Pale hands trace their way under your shirt as you leave kisses on his neck, finding the softness of your breasts. He grabs and fondles tiredly, but there is a hit of tenderness in the gesture that has you roll your hips a little harder. He hisses – his cock tends to be more sensitive when he is exhausted. You giggle at the reaction, trailing your kisses up to his ear for your honeyed voice to whisper:

“I know you’re tired sweetheart, want me to cockwarm you?”

Your sensual words are punctuated by pecks on his burning skin, the man who’s ever known for his composure letting out the neediest groan. It’s almost cute, really.

“I know you might not have the energy for more, it’s ok” you coo while your hands free him from the confines of his clothes. “I’ll make you feel good.”

And a woman of her words, you are. His green irises lay on you when you move of his lap to remove your shorts and panties, your fingers going to get a feel of your cunt. Oh, here it is, dropping honey all for your man. You don’t worry much – Shintarō is fairly large, but you’ve taken him so often that he might as well have shaped your pussy to only be able to take him with such ease. You go back to his lap, straddling his hips as you tease his tip between your folds. He sighs, melting in the pillows under him. You whisper sweet words in his ear, making him feel like a dream.

“You’re so pretty, Shin”, “that’s my man, I’m gonna keep you all warm”…

“Here you go… fuck! I love your cock so much, Shintarō.”

He whimpers softly when you sink down on his dick, tight and warm walls welcoming him in a loving embrace. He’s on a cloud, floating away to meet you in a world where nothing else exists but you.

You still, his cock buried deep inside of you, and rest on his chest while his arms wrapped around you automatically. The tenderness of the gesture makes your walls clench, as nothing turns you on as much as the love he gives you. You smile fondly at the sight of his rested face – his half-lidded eyes that look down at you, struggling not to close since he feels his that good. And then there’re his lips, just slightly parted to let out soft sighs that fan across your skin. You hum, feeling his hand run through your hair. It’s so hard not fuck him right here and now, not when he makes you feel that heavenly. In a daze, his hands trail down to your hips, the hard grip on them making his intentions clear to you.

“Want me to make love to you, hm? Make you feel even better?” you whisper sweetly before straightening up.

He looks at your figure straddling him, and his cock nestled in the divine hold of your cunt. His voice is a mere huff, breathy and desperate.

“Yes, please.”

It’s all you need to hear before moving your hips. The rhythm is slow and delicate at first, giving all the time to experience everything. He can’t help the tingling in his stomach, running down to his cock, nor can he help the goosebumps on his skin.

Aren’t you the best thing ever?

And then you pick up the pace, progressively, your hips moving with more expertise to draw these sounds you love so much out of his lips. His groans mix with your moans, a lullaby for the lovers, echoing in the cocoon that is your bedroom. Bedsheets gliding off the mattress as you ride him, his eyelashes fluttering to catch more of you the spectacle of you making love to him so nicely.

“Hm, fuck! You’ll make me come, princess…”

His hands travel to your ass, grabbing the cheeks in his attempt of self-restraint, delaying as much as he can the moment he’ll burst. He knows better than coming just like that, because there’s no better orgasm than the one you grant him from the generosity of your heart.

You pant, leaning forward to languidly kiss him before you finally give him the greenlight. “Go ahead, come f’me.”

Just the sound of this can make him spill his seed in his womb, but he manages to pull out just in time. You watch his twitching cock rest between your lips, and you grind against it, the friction with your erected clitoris is enough to make you cry his name.

“Shintarō…” you mewl, your orgasm getting to you, milliseconds before his.

He whimpers, aching cock finally letting out ropes of cum all over your folds and inner thighs. You chuckle, leaning down to kiss his face with all the love you have for him. The tired smile on his face is enough to make your heart bloom in happiness, knowing that no one can make him feel that kind of bliss but you.

Yeah, to Shintarō Midorima, nothing beats coming home to you at night.

[totorolaughs]

GOJO x READER | MY BLUE MOURNING BIRD

cure!reader death , angst, smut, sexual content, trauma. gn pronouns, teenager! gojo satoru, anal sx, note: hi, I'm still on hiatus but I wanted to post this since its just rotting in drafts. I'll be out of hiatus I'll post moore ( smut..just pure smut /j) orignal on ao3; translator is @ihrtbrainz REQUEST - OPEN | CLOSED

The sun was bright as the wind howled the sound of leaves rustling filled the air, bright sky blue eyes gleamed as his eyes locked in with yours. you felt a smile tug on your lips warm as a summer day, your fingers entwined with one another as you stroll in sync – side by side, the air was fresh as it could be the warm feeling of your fingers interlaced creating a comforting feeling within each other.

“Your eyes are as pretty as a morning blue bird, Satoru.” He laughed “Oh shut up! That's so cheesy, man!’ Satoru loved cheesy and cringy.

The sky turned gray and the now dark clouds cried. Satoru now stood in front of a grave. The grave was poorly taken care of and destroyed by age. He fell onto his knees as his fingers dug and crawled into the mud the tears of the clouds created.

Satoru sat up from his bedding in a cold sweat, rubbing his eyes as his breath heavy. He wasn't able to sleep after you disappeared, it kept him up at night even when he was able to fall into a slumber that didn't help since he suffered from dreams, which were more like nightmares than actual dreams. They would always begin in the same way as if it was a twisted game his own mind was playing on him; peaceful and comforting dreams would fill his mind before transforming into a depressing once peaceful dream filled with despair so heavy it would cause his chest to ache.

He opened his bedside drawer, blindly digging through it his fingers in the darkness of his bedroom brushing against numerous things until he felt it.

The polaroid picture your parents took of you and him when your days were still filled with bliss. You and Satoru were sitting in an inu cafe. A basset hound puppy got on top of Satoru's head as you both were about to get your picture taken by your parents.

The polaroid taken as you laughed which showed off your smile as Satoru smiled at the camera before the feeling of the puppy could register in his head just moments to late before the polaroid was taken.

He misses those days. He misses you. He misses the way you smiled along with the sound of your loud hyena-sounding laugh, as Satoru looks back on the fond moments he had spent beside you; his cheeks were no longer dry and were now a wet with his tears, A hiccup arouse from his throat as he tenderly ran his thumb on the polaroid.

Why did you have to disappear?

Was it him?

Satoru Gojo.

Was he the cause of your disappearance?

His stomach twisted into a tight knot as the thought of him being the cause of your disappearance. Why wouldn't these stupid thoughts leave his head? Of course he wasn't, why would his mind even come up with that possibility?

Is what he would tell himself in a pitiful attempt to block away that thought whenever he would look at polaroids he took of you it wouldn't make him feel better like his mother said but instead made him feel even more sorrowful.

Satoru thought about burning them and pretending he never had never ever known you, he attempted to burn a picture of you by holding it up to a lighter as soon as the corner of the polaroid caught on fire panic rose just as quickly it was lit just as quickly it was put out your face in the picture was burned into a charcoal black.

Never again.

oh how, he hopped you would come back.

he wants this to be just an awful dream he would awake from.

[k1ngpin42]

𝐹𝒶𝓇𝓂𝑒𝓇 𝒜𝒷𝒷𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑅𝒶𝓃𝒸𝒽 o𝓌𝓃𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝒹𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉𝑒𝓇

Part 1: If you guys like it I can write part 2 (with smut)

@osteologistimpostor

@mitski-lovesems

A/N: Despite my VERY frequent Abby x female reader stories, I actually write original pieces too. This one isn’t an original piece- the character is still Abby, but I’m pushing outside of my comfort zone and I’m doing Abby x OC. It's also modern(ish) day Abby

So without further adieu:

Light drifted across the room, pouring onto the table where a rather unimpressed and not-very awake girl was seated. She chased the letters of the paper in her hand, paying more attention to the lack of colour more than how interesting- or rather, uninteresting- the words were. 

The view from the balcony was gorgeous, it’s serenity drifting through the house and offering enough “fresh air” to cure a lifetime of hangovers.  And still, it was lonely. Not the cleansing kind people often searched for when investing in large areas of land just to have 5 unneeded bathrooms with pretty tiles to be admired; but the desolate and painfully boring kind that was becoming all the more prominent to a woman new to adulthood with her whole life worth of dreams and ambitions with no aim or prospects to go about pursuing them. 

Of course any talk of leaving the nest was disregarded as swiftly as it was brought up by her rather reserved, single father, who was more protective of her than anything. This was unsurprising of course. She had great beauty and wit who would be sure to have people swooning over her had she been raised in the city, and this prospect was what scared him the most. 

“Good morning Clara.” Spoke a tall, scrawny brunette who grabbed the paper off of the table and sat beside her. “Anything interesting?” He questions, more to the paper than to her. The girl shrugs, using just as much energy to remain neutral as she did to bury the rather obvious deep seated resentment she held towards him. With most guilt, of course.

“Nope.” She replies quietly, getting back up from the table and walking over to the kitchen. 

“Coffee, dad?” The man is unresponsive, eyes drifting happily over the page. Clara rolls her eyes.

“Coffee-“

“Huh? Oh yes, yes thank you sweetie.” Clara nods, walking over to the machine and pressing a button, the espresso machine pouring out the rich smelling liquid with a loud and familiar noise.

“Oh, I hired a new ranch hand…by the way.” Explains her father in an awkward mutter. Clara turns her head with a force which very nearly gave her whiplash. 

“A ranch hand?” She exclaims, already forcing herself to believe it was just her mishearing over the sound of the coffee. Her father sighs. 

“Why don’t you bring that over here?” With a pounding heart, she obeys, bringing the coffee to him and sitting in the chair in front, fiddling with her hands and noting how the two textures feel as she rubs her hand on one another. The man takes a deep breath.

“I figured we could use the help just in case you…end up going to college. Sometime soon, maybe. And I saw this girls ad so I thought…” Clara doesn’t say anything, partly due to her state of disbelief but mostly because she believes saying something will break this reality in two, and that her dad would instead, change her mind and ask her to stay forever.

“Anyway, it’s just a trial run-“ Clara leaps over and hugs him. 

“Thank you dad. When does she start?” The man lets out a short laugh. 

“Tomorrow.”

***

Clara had spent the morning cleaning the dishes she had put off doing last night, watching TV in her bed and chilling on her balcony naked. She had been painting something out there and had lost motivation for it recently. As for the lack of clothes, she had a tendency of spilling paint on her clothes to a point she had decided just not to wear them since she was home alone. Or at least she thought that until she heard a loud thud in the barn. 

Flinching so high she almost saw the heavens, she knocks the painting, causing the stranger to reveal themself at the noise.

There she was. A beautiful, unfamiliar woman with long blonde hair braided ever so nicely down her back, black tank top revealing arms bigger than on any man she had seen, and a face so stunning Clara was blushing even before returning to the realisation that she was butt naked. 

The woman immediately covers her eyes with her hand and turns away from her.

“I…I…am sorry-“

“Who the fuck are you?!” Demands Clara, picking the painting back up and hiding as best she could behind the frame. 

“Uh…I’m Abby. I think your dad hired me. I take it you’re…Clara?”

“Fuck.” She says, taking a stabilising breath. “No, the new hire is coming tomorrow.”

“I decided to drive in early, I was going to start organising the barn to make it easier for myself when I start tomorrow. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to look.”

“No…No it’s my fault, I’m sorry Abby.”

“I can come back if you want to…keep painting.” She clears her throat awkwardly. “Naked.” she adds. Clara laughs softly.

“No I uh, think I’m done with that. Let me put some clothes on and I’ll come down.” Abby blushes, head still glued to the floor like the most interesting object she could fathom was there. “There’s no need for that miss-“ Abby blurted out, but Clara had already returned to her room. 

The second those doors are closed, Clara is hitting her hand over her head in dismay. Of course this would happen to her. Her first god damn impression with some tank, godess-of-a-woman stranger was that she’s some sort of farmer hippie who paints in the nude. It was only somewhat true, but regardless it made her want to move out and start a life as an actual hippie some place where no one will find her. In a scramble, she grabs a dress from one of her clothes piles on the ground. She couldn’t be sure it was clean, but it certainly looked better than her other shit. Thankfully she spotted a coat on the rack behind her door. Mind you, mildly clashy, but better than nothing. 

“Abby?” She asks warily. Abby steps out of the barn, face bright red. 

“Still here Ma’am.” 

“Oh. Yes…good.” Clara says, mentally kicking herself at each word. Abby nods, words failing her too. 

“My…dad said he saw your ad. That…you stayed with two seperate families from a young age.” Abbys expression bears much interest, allowing Clara to take her time with what she's saying.

“They kept you on for years so you must be pretty good at what you do. Why’d you decide to take this job instead?” 

“Change of pace. Mr and Mrs Harkin are lovely people but, both well into retirement. It was their families farm and they had a lovely house up their when they were newly weds. Had their own jobs on the farm. I guess now that they’re older, they’re less able to enjoy the space. Plus Mrs Harkins has a lot of medicine she needs to refill and…well there ain't many hospitals nearby and if I do it every day the sheep don’t get fed and…well they’re movin in to their sons house.”

“Must have been a shame…” Clara offers, eyes drifting up and down the taller woman. Abby nods.

“Yeah. You know, I’m surprised you live out here. Most of em’ farmers are old folk or entrepreneurs.”

“My dad’s an entrepreneur. Sort of. He sells like IT to big companies. He leaves often for work trips.”

“Leaves you here? I can’t imagine many babysitters being willing to drive all the way out here when you were younger. Did you go with him?” Claras eyes soften and she shakes her head.

“My mum stayed with me. When she was alive.”

“Oh…Miss I’m so sorry.”

“Ah, don’t be. And yeah it is pretty lonely but, on the plus side, I can’t imagine painting in the nude being appropriate in whatever city you come from.” Abby laughs. 

“Utah.” Claras eyes widen. 

“Utah?” She nods with a smile that makes Claras whole body tingle.

“Salt lake city.” She explains. Clara nods.

Each breath that left the muscular woman seemed to ripple in the space between them, and Claras own breathing mirrored it, as if they’d fallen into a rhythm only the two of them understood.

“I hope the painting can still be salvaged.” Abby spoke after some time. Claras eyes widen. 

“What?” 

“Well, you kinda knocked it when you…”

“Yeah.” Clara interrupts, not needing the memory of her naked body being exposed to be rehashed. “Though I wouldn’t care if it was ruined. I’ve never been much into art. Too impatient. I paint when something drives me to. A feeling or something inspiring but, I’ve felt that less and less of late.”

“Hm.” Abby responds, examining Clara as if to squint in between the lines she had placed.

“If not art, then what? Surely a sweet thing like you has some big ambition. Art school maybe?”

Sweet thing like you. Repeated the voice in Claras head. Each word lingered in the air, thickening the atmosphere between them, drawing her in closer as if to shield her from the world. It was a delicate label, yet it bore an unexpected weight, making her feel seen in a way that both thrilled and unsettled her, like stepping into the sun after a long winter.

“Have I said something…?” Abby asks, her own nervousness becoming obvious as she talks. In truth she hadn’t expected such beauty. An old man and an already married daughter was what she had expected when Claras father had accepted the ad, not a scrawny, decently young man and his perfect fucking daughter. One who, from what Abby had seen on the balcony, had a physique that mirrored that of an angel itself. 

Fuck. Thought Clara at the realisation that she had no recollection of what Abby possibly could have asked her. 

“No…sorry I, what did you ask?” Abby smiles reassuringly. 

“I was just asking about your plans for the future, but…well I should probably get back to work. I’ve already wasted enough time as is just gettin’ you out here and…well I shouldn’t waste your time any longer.” Clara nodded shortly. 

“I’ll be in the house…my rooms just there if you need me.” She offers, stepping away from Abby this time.

***

It had been days without contact from her. Or at least, face-to-face contact. Clara had found herself on that balcony more often than ever. Waking up at dawn to the sound of tools being russled in the barn and the sheep making happy “baas” in response to Abby feeding them. She would look out and see her tending to the crops, sweat on her skin illuminated by the morning sun and bringing a colour that painted her like one of the finest artworks in creation. She had Claras mind coursing in ways that she would warrant was unhealthy. Daydreaming. Fantasising. There was a yearning that words couldn’t describe. 

She wouldn’t face her though. Their first conversation had an unspoken definitiveness to it. Like they would speak only as formalities when situations required them to. Plus it’s not like Clara had that kind of confidence. No, that kind of confidence was only discovered at the bottom of a bottle of alcohol most of the time, and thankfully her dad was away for yet another weekend trip, leaving his stash of expensive bourbon unattended to.

There was some point into her night where she had stumbled her way into the barn. It was her hiding spot when she was younger. Nothing much to do on a farm as a kid other than force your parents to play games, and now Clara found it offered her some comfort. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was looking for when she opened up those barn doors. A quiet place to chill out that wasn’t the same four walls of her room? Or was it Abby? She couldn’t be sure. 

Clara climbed up the ladder to the top level of the barn, heading over near the small window where a desk and a beanbag was. She clambered onto the beanbag, forming a small ball and closing her eyes. That was till the a haybale dropped, pulling an audible noise of shock from Clara. Abby gasped.

“Shit, fuck Clara?? Are you in here?” Clara simply laughs at the reaction.

“Calling me by my first name? Not very professional-profess?” She asks, continuing to stumble around. “I profess myself in banqueting to all the rout…”

“I…Miss I don’t-“

“It’s Shakespeare ‘Miss’ Anderson. You know, Cassius? Othello?”

“Oh.”

Clara’s voice, playful and teasing, had an ease about it that left Abby feeling unmoored and unsteady. She could barely keep up with what Clara was saying, but the mystery of it, the way her name sounded from Clara’s mouth, filled Abby with a raw, delicate ache.

“What are you doing in here?” Abby asks gently, walking over to the ladder. Clara shrugs.

“I live here. What are you doing in here? You know my dads away right? What if you were like a burglar who…burgled.”

“Are you drunk?” She asks, though the tone lacks any sort of accusation. Clara sighs. 

“Come, look at the stars with me.” She hums. Abby sratches the back of her neck. 

“Uh….well I really shouldn’t be…”

“Oh come on. You gonna leave a ’sweet thing like me’ up here by herself?” Abby laughs at her words, giving in and climbing effortlessly up the ladder.

“You can do that one handed? That’s hot.” Clara remarks. Abby just tilts her head with confusion. 

“What did you just say?”

“I said that out loud?” Clara asks with a tone of genuine confusion. “Oops.” Abby blushes as she sits on the floor beside her.

“You usually get drunk like this? Just you?” Abby inquires. Clara shrugs, her smile fading a little.

“That over there, that’s Saturn.” Clara explains, shifting a lot in the beanbag. Abby looks at her, surprised. 

“Saturn? You sure it’s not a star?”

“Nope. Saturn is m’most….mmm” Abby laughs, using her middle finger to push some hair out of your face.

“You’re so drunk.”

“Do you like me?” Clara asks, a rather sudden and drastic shift in both emotions and conversation. 

“Well, sure Miss you seem uh, real nice.” Abby says simply. 

“No I mean…you saw me. Naked. Did you like what you saw?”

“Wh- I…I wasn’t looking. Honest.” She states, parting the wisps of her blonde hair framing her face away from her eyes.

“Oh.” Clara replies, feeling the drunken urge to start bawling appear. 

“Why do you care what I think anyway?” Abby asks, noting her expression and relaxing her tone as she spoke. Clara shrugged.

“I’ve been alone a lot. Thought I liked it, but…I watch all’em mmm….romances and the sit coms…never once been desired like that. Or desired…” Her words trail off, as if Clara is on the verge of sleep. She quickly snaps back into it. 

“Anyway…I don’t know why I’m sayinallthis t’you. You’re…big…muscly…pretty. Sure you’ve had your fair sure of desir-ara-bles?” Abby laughs harshly at this.

“I think we should get you some water…”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Abby’s gaze softens, confusion clear.

“My apologies, Miss. What did you ask?”

“Don’t give me that. You saw me, even if you said you didn’t “look.” what’s wrong? Y’don’t like girls? Or do you just not like me??”

“Clara, it’s simply something I don’t want to talk about while you’re not sober enough to know what you’re saying. I think you’re very beautiful, but I don’t feel comfortable talking about how I…looked at your body without your consent.”

“Fine.” Clara says, unbuttoning her comfy red flannel. Abby gasps, immediately covering her eyes with her hands.

“Jesus, Miss-“

“I consent now, just look.”

“I’m not gonna-“ Abby starts to say, the corner of her eye betraying her as she sees the outline of a lace, purple bra.

“Wanna see something else?”

“NO- no just…wait here, I’m gonna get you a blanket mkay?” Abby stammers, getting up in a rush. A solid grip quickly stops her. 

“I’m sorry.” Clara says. Abby smiles softly, turning to look at her face, (as well as she could) with reassurance. 

“Don’t be. Being drunk alone is…well, I’ve done that once or twice should we say.” Abby says, kind blue eyes staring into Claras green. “Tomorrow morning we can talk as long as you like.”

“You’r staying here?” Clara asks, bewildered. Abby shrugs. 

“If you’ll have me.”

“Yes.” Clara responds at an embarassing speed.“Though we are in a barn, don’t you want to go to my room?”

“Miss, I’ve worked here less than two weeks. What would your father think if he finds me on your bed with you?” Clara rolls her eyes.

“Fine, but you better grab me that blanket.”

“Be right back, your highness.” Abby teased. 

Claras eyes drift closed in Abbys absence, hearing faintly the sound of her heading down the ladder. Even while in a state of almost sleep, she can still sense Abbys presence return beside her—the steady rise and fall of a chest, the delicate sigh of a  muscular and yet still soft form settling in. A stray strand of hair slips across her cheek, stirring as she breathes, and she reaches up with barely a thought, brushing it aside before realising she’s also touched the woman beside her. Their hands meet, fingers resting in a quiet, unplanned tangle.

That’s how they wake up, too. Clara, who is usually as opposite to a morning person as one could fathom, wakes up before Abby, feeling dehydrated and disorientated. She moves to get up before feeling a body. A muscular body that builds her with the fear of the reality that she hadn’t simply dreamt of coming onto Abby while in the comfort of her bed, but rather that she had done that, and that it was rather thick, barn air she was smelling.

“Fuck.” Clara cursed under her breath, waking the other girl who calmly rubbed her eyes. 

“Morning.” Abby says. 

Fuck.

[baileypie-writes]

Can you please do a Soular x reader fluff headcanon

A/N ~ Sure! Hope you enjoy!

~Soular Fluff Headcanons~

~~~🍩~~~🍩~~~🍩~~~

Fandom: Fresh Precure!

Fanfic Type: Headcanons

Reader: Gender neutral

Relationship: Romantic

Characters Included: Soular

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 474

Warnings: None!

~Masterlist~

~Fresh Precure! Masterlist~

~~~🍩~~~🍩~~~🍩~~~

~ When it comes to complimenting you, Soular can get a bit… poetic? Like, he uses a very sophisticated selection of words, and overcomplicates the sentence’s structure. He just doesn’t want to be basic. He believes you deserve way better than that.

~ He’s serious about hair and skin care. So he encourages you to follow his routines. He enjoys doing “spa days” with you. It’s basically a sort of date, where you just do an at-home spa. It’s super relaxing, and definitely up there on Soular’s favorite kinds of dates.

(name): “What the heck is this cream for?”

Soular: “It helps the bags under your eyes fade.”

(name): “Okay, wow. I’m not sure if I should be insulted or not.”

Soular: “You shouldn’t. I use it every day.”

(name): “As well as these seven other creams.”

~ Whenever you sleep in the same bed, he always has to be facing you. He doesn’t know exactly why. It just makes him sleep better. Maybe it just puts him at ease, because it’s like he’s watching over you. Whatever the reason, he has to do it.

~ Cheesy romance movies are Soular’s guilty pleasure. He eats them up every time. Show him ones from Earth, and he’s hooked. He loves all kinds, but specifically Christmas hallmarks. However, Titanic is his absolute favorite. He sobbed while watching it.

Soular: “Wait, so the Jack and Rose weren’t real people?”

(name): “No Soular, it was just a made up romance. The Titanic sinking was real, though.”

Soular: “I don’t care about that boat. But you’re telling me my suffering was caused by fake people?”

~ For some reason, he always feels the need to warm you up when you’re cold. If your hands are chilly, he cups them inside of his, and blows warm air into them. If you’re shivering, he gives you a blanket or his jacket. You have no idea why he does this, but it’s cute nonetheless.

~ Soular plays with your hands a lot. He has no idea why, and honestly doesn’t notice it most of the time. But when the two go you are near each other, he has to hold it. And of course, that leads to him fiddling with it. He does it subconsciously. If you point it out, he’ll apologize and stop. But then go back to doing it moments later.

(name): “Soular, you’re doing it again.”

Soular: “Oh, sorry.”

(name): “Why do you like playing with my hands so much?”

Soular “I don’t know. It’s sort of… calming?”

(name): “Hmm. Well then I guess I won’t stop you.”

~ He loves blowing kisses to you. Any chance he gets, he does it. Anytime you’re across the room, the street, or anywhere he can’t kiss you physically, he’ll just blow one to you. If you do it back, he may just fall deeper in love with you.

~~~🍩~~~🍩~~~🍩~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[icycoldninja]

Do you know how in every Soulsborne games, there is almost always one maiden present in the game

For example in Elden Ring there’s Tarnished (the player) and Melina:

In Bloodborne, it’s The Hunter (the player) and the Plain Doll:

Another example is the Ashen one (the player) and the Firekeeper:

Can you write a maiden reader and the DMC boys following this relationship archetype, basically a knight and a maiden but here’s a catch:

The boys venture to an abandoned castle on Mallet Island to find Mundus and then that’s where they find an awkward young woman, who seems pretty sketchy at first due to how awkward she is (can’t really blame her since she’s been kidnapped and locked away by Mundus ever since she was a young teenager till now so her communication skills are rather f-ed up)

So naturally they keep their guards up around her…and her, although very wary around them, has to do her job as a maiden which is to serve them in every possible way regardless of their offer even if she may feel uncomfortable doing so like trying to offer them help like bringing them warm water, medication, letting them vent to her, bringing them books to cure their boredom, etc…Much to her surprise, even though they do generally accept her care from time to time, they would never force her to do something that genuinely makes her feel uncomfortable a.k.a prostitution which is something a lot of men who came to the castle request her to do it after a certain period of time

Time after time, they gradually grow close with each other, sharing their thoughts and insecurities and in return offers comfort for one and another (usually it’s the reader letting them sleep on her lap and patting their back in a nurturing way). It really is a fresh breathe of air for the reader because for so long she has yet to form such a close bond with someone else that is not in an unhelpful or abusive way (she fell first but he fell harder trope)

When the boys finished their goals, they no longer need to stay on the island and when the news arrive, the reader was scared because they’ll leave her just like many others do when she already so attached to them. Originally, she was tasked by Mundus to pry out any information from them but she can’t bring herself to do it because of how nice they are to her and now she can’t bring herself to confront them abt her original purpose because that would mean they would have more of a reason to hate her and that’s the last thing she wants, to be hated by the only person who have shown you kindness throughout the abuse and manipulation you have undergone your entire life

So she begs them to forgive and at the same time, if they can’t do that then at least dispatch her so that she no longer has to suffer under the hands of Mundus

——————————————————————————————————————-————————————————————————————————————————————

P/S: if you can, pls write a reader with a poor posture and just generally not really attractive like Rya from Elden Ring. I can’t find any good pictures of Rya without her being goonified so I use my oc as an example (It’s not an OC x DMC boys)

Sure, sure. Sorry this took so long to get to.

Sparda boys + V x Maiden!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante ended up traveling to some abandoned castle on Mallet Island during his search for Mundus, where they find this...odd young lady.

-See, she wasn't conventionally attractive and had very poor posture, making her appear a bit...lifeless.

-He didn't trust someone as sketchy as you, and kept his guard up even as you followed him around, offering advice about the castle, bringing him water and things, though where these items came from was questionable.

-Time passes, and Dante gets used to you, growing comfortable enough to let you sleep on his lap and such. You might be a bit weird looking, but you're a sweet soul whom he's starting to really bond with.

-When Dante finished his business on Mallet Island, he had to leave, which disheartened you because you were afraid he would abandon you. What made things worse was, you didn't want to reveal your true reasons for befriending him, because if you did, he might be even more inclined to just disappear without a trace, and that was the last thing you wanted.

-Turns out, Dante planned to take you with him all along, and now that you're free from Mallet Island, you don't have to worry about your original mission, though there is the threat of demons coming to look for you.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil was searching for Mundus to get revenge for all that had happened to him, when he discovered this bizarre woman.

-You were an stooped lady who looked unhealthily pale, carrying an eerie aura and generally seeming like someone who would work with demons--or is a demon.

-This didn't stop you from guiding him through the castle, bringing him food, water, and books when he needed to rest, and keeping him company despite his blatant hatred of human interaction.

-After some time, Vergil felt himself warming up to you, even letting you use his lap as a pillow while he read from the books you brought him. You were an odd looking person, but he liked you.

-When he finished his business and prepared to depart, you started panicking, trying so hard to keep him in the castle that it became extremely suspicious. Vergil asked you why you didn't want him to leave, and you confessed your true intentions, telling him how Mundus wanted to use you as a spy, but you just didn't have the heart to.

-Vergil scoffed at that and told you that if you hated being abandoned, just come with him. He was sure there was an extra room at Devil May Cry anyway.

□ Nero □

-Nero didn't really know what he was doing on Mallet Island, but he saw this big spooky castle and figured that's where the bad guys would be.

-Instead, he found you, this strange, slouched woman with a horrible complexion and a strange, ominous aura.

-He let's you guide him through the castle, telling him about its history, bringing him supplies when he takes breaks, and generally keeping him company.

-Nero thought you were pretty weird, but in a good way. He was really growing to like you, and after a bit, he let you lie on his lap while you talked about your insecurities, your lives, and everything else in between.

-Eventually, he had to leave, and in your panic, you told him everything; how Mundus intended to use you as a spy, and how you just didn't have the heart to.

-Nero was understandably shocked, but got over it quickly. Since you never betrayed him, why should he be mad? Come with him!

● V ●

-V was looking for Mundus at the behest of his fellow devil hunters, and in doing do, stumbled across this odd castle.

-Within this castle lived a very odd woman with horrible posture and a face that screamed potential danger.

-While a tad bit worried about his wellbeing and your intentions, V didn't mind it if you followed him around, acting as his assistant of sorts.

-You guys end up getting closer and closer with each passing day. You liked V because he was kind to you and didn't try to take advantage of you, while V enjoyed your presence because you were endearingly sweet to him.

-Alas, all things must come to an end. V had finished his business and was about to leave, worrying you because the last thing you wanted was to be abandoned again.

-V noticed this and offered you a place at Devil May Cry. You accepted, not telling him of your troubled past, though it seemed to be for the best. Some things are better left unsaid.

[pearlmagick]

IRON BONDS II

pairing : harry potter x reader

synopsis : harry discovers your secret and helps you gain some confidence while also discovering his own boldness.

warnings : mentions of blood , drinking blood

notes : just to clarify, pale does not mean light skin only in this fic !! the word in context is meant be portrayed as your skin tone just without blood.

Over the months, Harry carefully analysed your every move like a secret, obsessive hobby. Could he have simply asked you what had troubled you? Of course, he could, but he had a feeling you would let yourself wallow in your stress by yourself, a feeling he had experience with.

He noted your weariness during the day and the nearly unnoticeable shake of your fingers as you drank your regular “cranberry juice” every dinner. “It’s good for the immune system.” you’d always say when Ron questioned why you drank the tangy liquid so frequently. Your answer sounded almost rehearsed to the trained ears of Harry Potter, who knew the timbre of your voice when you usually chattered about things that interested you.

One night, he strolled the grounds, rubbing the bandages wrapped around his bleeding hand. The consequences of disobeying Umbridge left bloody splotches seeping through the white. His own issues were put behind him when he saw you sitting next to the lake.

Your skin was paled, as though all the warmth in you had chilled. Your eyes seemed brighter under the moonlight and the way your hair contrasted with your skin seemed supernatural.

“Y/N?’ Harry called out. Your hair whipped in the wind as you turned towards him. You, in all your horrific glory, were fully on display to the single person that you wished would never catch you.

Harry’s hand reached out for yours and he felt the cold jolt his system but still held on. His eyebrows cinched closer together, asking the question unspoken. “Summer before fourth year, remember when I couldn’t go to the World Cup with you and the Weasleys?” Harry nodded. “I couldn’t go with you because… because a vampire attacked me. My parents fought back so he didn’t kill me and I just became this. I became a monster. I’ve tried hiding it with charms and potions, changing my teeth and making my skin look normal but it wears off and there’s no cure.” You turned to the moonlight, your eyes glowing from the tears rather than the golden-red halo around your pupils. “I wish he just finished me off that night.”

Your confession felt like another weight had sat on your chest; the weight was lifted almost immediately when Harry pulled you towards him, the warm scents of his freshly laundered shirt and wood enveloped you as his embrace pulled you into a new, more comfortable trance. “I understand why you didn’t tell me but I would never leave you. You’re my best friend, Y/N. I promise I’m not scared. You’ve been trying to control all this by yourself so please, let me help you now.”

Your tears flowed more freely now that you had the assurance that Harry wasn’t going to run away from you; he was here to stay.

The two of you spent the night whispering about your bloody situation. “So, the cranberry juice?” You chuckled and dipped your fingers into the lake, racing to trace the ripples that formed. “Yeah, I couldn’t lie about it being pomegranate juice since I’ve already said I hate pomegranates, but it’s actually cow blood. I haven’t tried human blood before. I thought about it loads of times, but I get afraid that I can’t control myself once I start.”

Harry’s impulsive nature struck as he gave his wild suggestion, ‘I’ve got a pretty fresh wound that I haven't put in murtlap essence yet. Why not drink some of my blood?” If your body had any warmth, you would be burning from the bold yet casual tone in which he delivered his idea.

Unbeknownst to you, Harry’s every nerve prickled with nervousness. What if he was too bold? What if you shot down his idea? What if you didn’t feel as close to him as he does to you?

His last reflection was a new flavour in the soupy mess his thoughts were becoming by the second.

Before he could fully analyse every memory he had with you appearing at the forefront of his mind and how it made him feel, he was thrown off balance by your answer. “I could try.”

Harry saw your hesitation in your pursed lips as if the action would hold off your vampirism entirely. He took the initiative and unwrapped his bandage, bringing his still-bleeding hand close to your lips.

The smell of human blood was enticing and your eyes shifted to a deeper shade of red before you took the leap and drank the small drops of blood that seeped out steadily from the cuts. The metallic taste from Harry’s blood left sweet notes on your palette rather than the rusty cow’s blood you drank. In that moment, you could have drained the boy of all the blood in his body but you regained the restraint you had built over the months and let go of his hand. Harry couldn’t help but smile, “You see, I knew you could do it.” You smiled in return, your pearlescent fangs charming Harry the longer he took in your grin of pride.

The longer you sat there, enjoying each other’s company, the stronger Harry’s confidence was becoming. His boldness had already been a success once, there was a chance that maybe another stroke of impulsiveness would lead to something he didn’t realise he’d been waiting for.

“Y/N?” Harry asked. You hummed in response. “How do you feel about a date?”

[loveyhoons]

FORGET-ME-NOT | one

pairing: park sunghoon x f!reader

synopsis: sunghoon never believed in love due to his biggest secret: having the disease hanahaki. when he meets you on a whim one night, he realizes he may have found his cure...you. will love be both in your favor, or will it all crumble before it even started?

word count: 2.7k words

warnings: cussing, alcohol consumption

taglist: OPEN! send in an ask or comment if you’d like to be tagged

The sun shone brightly on the sidewalk and the streets surrounding the area.

You and your best friend Chaehyun decided to check out the Farmer’s Market today, knowing the nice old lady who sold flowers would be back once again with more commodities.

In your shared apartment with Chaehyun, there was a flower vase that was the centerpiece of the dining table. As the flowers her boyfriend Heeseung got her were withering, she decided to replace them and get a fresh bouquet. You decided to tag along, needing a breath of fresh air.

It was a routine to always go to the farmer’s market ever since the two of you moved into your apartment back in freshman year. Now on your second semester of junior year in university, the two of you were always glued together-literally.

You walked through the rows of buckets, looking at the different flowers. Your eyes glistened as soon as you spotted your favorite flowers: Forget Me Nots. You bent down, looking at the blue and purple flowers bundled up in the bucket.

“Did you want to add those to the flower vase?” Chaehyun asked as she held a few of her favorite flowers in her hands.

You nodded, picking a few. “Sure, why not?” Standing up, you handed some of the flowers you chose and gave them to Chaehyun as she looked at the bouquet as a whole. “Wow, they added a nice touch with the sunflowers and tulips.”

You never really knew why Forget Me Nots were your favorite flowers. There was never a backstory to it; all you could say was that whenever you saw the flowers, they seemed to have a bigger meaning than thought. Maybe it was the hopeless romantic in you or the movies of the main leads finding their soulmates in the most random places- but for you, it just gave you the feeling of true love.

As Chaehyun went to pay, you walked down the sidewalk to find more vendors and other things to buy. You then stumbled upon one of your friends from your Photos class last semester, Jake Sim. As you both crossed paths, he waved from the side of the area he was in. He held a bag of fresh oranges, looking for the perfect ones to buy.

You and Jake talked often as he was notably one of the most handsome guys in your grade- also one of Heeseung’s closest friends. He, Heeseung, Jay, and Sunghoon- his entire friend group was known as the campus hunks per say. They were all known to be flirtatious- well minus Heeseung since he got together with Chaehyun.

They always showed up to the parties, knew almost everyone, had high grades, and overall just had a reputation that shone across the campus. It is known that they were never serious about one thing which was love.

Maybe that was why you were skeptical as soon as Chaehyun confessed to you she started seeing Heseeung. But soon enough, he proved himself worthy of dating your best friend.

“Hey Y/N, what brings you here?” Jake asked politely as you stood by the crate of oranges.

“Chae wanted to grab some flowers for the vase in the dining room.” You replied.

“There you are, you wandered off-” Chaehyun sighed as she glanced towards Jake, giving him a wave.

“Let me guess?” Jake smiled as Chaaehyun nodded her head. “The flowers withered.”

Chaehyun showed Jake the bouquet of flowers as he looked at each one, admiring how pretty the bouquet was. He then snapped his fingers, as if a lightbulb appeared on the top of his head.

“Wait, before I forget, you and Y/N are coming to Yeonjun’s party tonight right? It’s the first last party of the spring semester since he’s graduating in May.”

“Hee told me about that, I’ll tag along,” Chaehyun replied. She then looked at you and shook her head. “I don’t know about Y/N though.”

“You guys have fun,” You smiled. “I got assigned a paper already in my Sociology class.”

In honesty, the paper was not due in 3 weeks, you had another deadline: your article in the Campus Online Paper. As a journalism major, you must participate in the school’s online newspaper under an Alias for at least one semester in your last two years of university. No one knew it was you who wrote those articles, not even Chaehyun.

It was your little secret to keep, you wanted people to critique your writing because of skill not because it was you per say.

You decided to get it over with and participate this semester under the alias Forget Me Not (you had no clue what your alias should be) and write about Classics and Myths. As you had the creative freedom to choose a topic and stick with it for that semester, you decided to write about different stories that piqued your interest and analyze them.

You remembered the first day of your Intro to Classics and Myths, stunned by learning about the Narcissus flower.

The myth was about the nymph Echo and the hunter Narcissus. Echo was cursed by the goddess Juno, the Roman counterpart of the Greek goddess Hera. Echo was cursed to only repeat what someone had already said.

Echo then falls in love with Narcissus who rejects her; she does not give up, only for her body to then go to waste with only an echo of her soul to be heard. Narcissus then is punished by Nemesis, the Greek counterpart of Artemis, and curses him to only fall in love with no one but himself.

As Narcissus then stops by a nearby pond, thirsty, he sees his reflection in the pond, not realizing he is looking at himself. In pure bliss, Narcissus decided to lean closer and realized he could not fall in love with the reflection, falling into his death; the Narcissus flower then started to grow in his place.

After learning about the Myth and being intrigued by the story, you wrote about the piece and your thoughts. You felt like you just rambled in your article analyzing it and adding your feelings and how pitiful love could be for people.

Frankly, you were supposed to stay for just one semester. As the number of reads slowly increased after your first article, the student president of the paper, Choi Soobin, asked you to stay just for one more semester, promising to put in a good word with you for the broadcasting company he was currently interning at.

Now here you are, trying to pry your way out of an offer that you probably can’t refuse knowing it was going to be one of the biggest parties of the semester. Especially since Yeonjun moved into an apartment space that was larger than the last one he last lived in.

“See I told you.” Chaehyun chimed. “She’s a busy girl.”

“Ah, well I tried,” Jake replied. “But if you do change your mind, you should tag along. It’d be cool for you to hang out with everyone.”

“Wait, you haven’t even properly met Jay and Sunghoon,” Chaehyun said as she nuzzled up to you, smiling. “Okay, I guess you have to go now.”

“I can meet them another time-”

“Oh yea, they’re nice. Jay’s really funny and easygoing. Sunghoon’s a bit cold but he’s just reserved.” Jake replied. “Y/N, I still think you should come.”

“I’ll think about it.” You nodded your head.

The two of you then said goodbye to Jake, walking towards the vendor who was selling kettle corn at the end of the other side of the market.

You had no clue how you went from an “I’ll think about it” to sitting on Yeonjun’s couch, in the middle of Jake and Chaehyun.

Your best friend was too busy talking to Heeseung enjoying their time together as Jay sat on the other end of Jake sipping their drinks.

You could barely hear what anyone was saying or process what was going on as the strobe lights took over the entire area and loud music blared from the speakers placed near the couch.

Everyone was busy doing their own thing and you on the other hand, just wanted to go home.

You had just met Jay and he seemed very sweet and polite. You guys talked for a little bit earlier in the kitchen as they poured their drinks into their cups. You found out how he was a Business major alongside Sunghoon while Jake majored in Chemical Engineering and Heeseung majored in Music Therapy.

The three of you rambled about how much work your classes assigned in the first week and how slumped you all were, already waiting for the summer. You got along with them pretty nicely and you wondered if you’d get along with the last person in Heeseung’s friend group which was Sunghoon.

Sunghoon was one of the quieter guys in Heeseung’s friend group. You've seen him a couple of times and how he rarely had a smile on his face. He was the one you’d hear the most stories of in your classes and amongst girls in your classes.

You heard of stories of girls trying their best to get closer to him or asking for his number or how some would even gift him chocolates as a confession. He would then decline each request, leaving many in heartbreak and some in embarrassment.

He seemed to be the opposite whenever it came to parties and larger functions. His walls would crumble down only to be rebuilt the day after.

You did not want to judge his character since you did not know him at all but he was distinguishable from his friends personality wise.

“Dang he must have drank on his own or something,” Jake mumbled, looking around for Sunghoon. He looked at his phone, seeing that the message he sent to Sunghoon was still left unread.

You stood up and looked down at your phone. Seeing it was almost 10 PM, you needed some fresh air knowing the party wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

You lightly tapped Chaehyun’s shoulder, trying to get her attention. “Chae, you said there was a rooftop here?”

“Oh yes, you need to see it, it’s pretty! Just press the 5th floor and go straight down the left hall and there should be the entrance.” Chaehyun replied trying to talk loudly over the blaring music.

“Also if you see Sunghoon there, do you mind texting Chaehyun to let us know, I have a feeling he may be there.” Jake asked you as you nodded your head.

You then walked out, saying a bit of loud “Excuse Me’s” outside of Yeonjun’s apartment and towards the elevator in the middle of the floor.

Sunghoon lost count of how much he drank so far. He felt the flower petals start to grow in his lungs again. There was no one sitting by the balcony on the rooftop, it was just him and the alcohol keeping him company. He coughed a little as a few flower petals fell from his mouth.

He looked down towards the blue and purple petals. “Damn Forget Me Nots.” He whispered to himself.

As he shrugged off the flowers, he just sat and looked at the view of the city, sitting in one of the plastic chairs, trying to control his breathing.

Sunghoon was in a shitty mood, to say the least. Getting a call earlier today from his dad telling him to get over his disease and help his older brother with the family business was not what he wanted to wake up to. With his dad pestering him over an arranged marriage and possible “cures” to help him get “back on track with his life”,

Sunghoon was frustrated, wishing his dad would just stop.

He took another sip of the beer in his hands, feeling the wind blow its breeze lightly on his face.

You opened the entrance to the rooftop and sighed in awe. As the entrance was on the other side of where Sunghoon was sitting, you did not see him just yet.

You got your phone out of the pocket of your jacket and took pictures of the view. You took a deep breath, relieved of the fresh air. You felt suffocated, to say the least at the party and were finally happy to be alone for once.

The rooftop was decorated with hung lightbulbs in all four corners. You figured this was a spot people go to often to wind down and drink or have a midnight conversation at. It was decorated nicely, it was no wonder people liked to come up here.

You walked towards the other side of the rooftop to find someone sitting in a plastic chair alone. As you walk closer, you see a few bottles of beer with flower petals all over the area. You look in confusion, curious about where all the flower petals came from.

There were certainly no trees around unless this mysterious person was picking petals from flowers they brought up to the rooftop.

You then see Sunghoon sitting, staring at the view, sighing. As you took another step, he put down the bottle of beer he was drinking. You immediately text Chaehyun to tell Jake that Sunghoon is up on the rooftop.

“Jake, is that you?” Sunghoon asks softly with his back still turned towards the view.

“Oh, um, no.” You reply as you walk closer. “I was just here to get air.”

Sunghoon looked at you as he turned his head slightly. As you bend down, you pick up a blue flower petal and raise an eyebrow. “Forget-Me-Nots?”

“You-you know the petals of those flowers?”

“Yeah, actually they’re my favorite type of flowers.” You replied. “Where did you get so many of them to rip up these many petals?”

Sunghoon could not process what he was hearing. He just looked at you as you picked up some of the petals in awe. He did not reply, confused if he was hearing things correctly.

This was probably nothing but a small conversation, he thought to himself.

There is no way you would just show up in his life with the flowers that filled his lungs to be those favorite flowers of yours.

“Who hurt you?” You asked, looking up at him.

“It’s not a who it’s a what,” Sunghoon muttered as he looked back at the view, trying to deflect all the questions you asked.

You just looked at the petals in front of you, still in the same position. You picked up a petal, poking it with your finger, seeing it glisten under the lightbulbs that perched up above the both of you.

He then glanced back towards you who stood up, holding the petal in your hands.

You looked down at the petal in your hands and back up at Sunghoon, clicking your tongue. “It’s too bad you ripped them up. These flowers symbolize true love.”

Sunghoon started to feel his chest at ease. He held his chest a little, perplexed by this new still of calmness. He blinked his eyes quicker, thinking if his suspicions were just him unaware of what was going on at the moment. He put his hand down, sitting up a little. “Is that why you like those flowers?”

“Mhm.” You replied. “Oh, I’m Y/N by the way, Chaehyun’s best friend.”

As soon as Sunghoon was going to reply, Jake rushed in with Jay. The two looked a bit frazzled by the sight of the flower petals. You stepped back a bit as the two carried Sunghoon in their arms.

“Thanks, Y/N for letting Chaehyun know,” Jake said as he gently put Sunghoon’s left arm around him as Jay did for his right.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Tell Hee and Chaehyun we’re heading back to our apartment earlier. You’ll be okay here?” Jay asked.

You nodded your head, giving the boys a thumbs up. “No worries. Get home safely.”

Sunghoon felt too stunned as he turned his head back to you, feeling a bit defeated he didn’t properly introduce himself to you. He just kept his head down a little, feeling his chest start to tighten again.

As the boys bid farewell and walked back inside to the hallway, you glanced back at the sight in front of you.

You walked around the petals and glanced towards the view of the city in front of you. You slid the petal into your pocket, sighing. You then turned around and looked back at the rooftop, stunned by what just happened.

Sunghoon was the complete opposite of what you thought he would be.

And why did that intrigue you in the slightest bit?

prologue || 02

masterlist | main masterlist

© loveyhoons , 2024

[emepe]

— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?

— Chapter summary: The perfect first date: food, honest conversations, and tragic news.

— Content warnings: murder, mention of child neglect, implied SA.

— Notes: Hello, everybody! Welcome to chapter 5 <3 Thank you so much to everybody who has shown support for this story, especially those who have joined the tag list. If anyone else would like to be added, lmk in the comments here or for the chapter guide, or through DMs. Happy reading!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

I want to know you

“Oh my gosh.” 

Your muffled praise comes out in between chews.

Eren watches you amusedly as you swallow and wash the first bite of your taco down with agua de horchata. 

“You like it?” he grins, an endeared laugh sputtering from his lips as he watches your brows scrunch in concentration toward your meal. 

Your eyes shimmer with joy when you look up at him and nod.

For your first date, Eren decided to take you out to the food trucks stationed across town. You finally got the chance to try out the tacos Sasha and Connie raved about the night you met everybody. It was the perfect way to secure a fun time while also curing you of any leftover hangover symptoms. With the fresh air brushing through your hair and cooling your skin, and Eren as your companion, you couldn't have asked for anything better.

Eren could barely get a wink of sleep after he got back to his apartment, his excitement too much for his body to bear as he replayed everything in his head. The moment you kissed him first, when you made tea together, when he kissed you, and when you told him you liked him back. Even now, as he watches you test how much salsa you can handle in one bite, the memories keep swirling in his mind in a swoon-worthy loop.

The reality of it all still hasn't fully sunk in. He doesn't even know when you could've possibly changed your mind. It all fed into the theory that he probably didn't need to stress about it as much as he did — all he had to do was be himself. But what kind of man would he be if he just assumed you'd give into his charms no matter what? 

This moment, he thinks, is nothing but bliss.

“You're staring again,” you murmur, glancing at him through your lashes.

It's never bothered you if you're honest. Eren’s intense gaze has always been warm, always shy, and full of admiration. Even before last night, you never chose to call him out for it. It was innocent. Now that you've confessed to mutual feelings, every glance, every accidental or purposeful touch begs to be acknowledged. 

You marvel at his cute side, which makes him blush profusely and produces that boyish laugh of his each time, in place of muttered apologies or swallowed words. 

There's still an air of tension on scarce occasions when he debates which limits have been implicitly lifted after last night's intimate moment in your apartment. It's all so new, and your friendship was fairly brief. Asking if he can hold your hand, hold you by the waist, or tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear is still a bit awkward for him.

“I can't help myself. You're just too pretty.”

It's your turn to avert your gaze shyly, your cheeks burning intensely. Of course, the compliment was more than welcome. You purposely stayed awake after he left your place to lay out the perfect attire for the occasion. A chunky beige sweater, a denim skirt, and knee-length boots were the way to go, you decided. As a special touch, a chunky silk headband adorned your head — a nod of sorts to your halo from the Halloween party.

“Your tacos are gonna get cold if you keep getting distracted,” you murmur, though a hint of a smile slips through the cracks of your stern demeanor.

“Fine. Let me stuff my mouth and shut up,” he sighs, faking a sniffle.

You laugh. 

On the other side of the park, five people watch your first date unfold before their eyes from the safety of an SUV. 

“Are you sure it's them?” Sasha asks from the backseat. Jean and Mikasa have their matching sunglasses low on the bridges of their nose as they squint at the picnic table you and Eren are sharing.

“For sure, for sure.” Jean nods. 

“No wonder neither of them replied to the groupchat,” Mikasa adds.

“We could go eat somewhere else?” Connie suggests.

Sasha instantly grumbles a fervent denial.

“I've been craving tacos since before we even got to the bar last night.”

“We could just wait them out. They're not gonna stay here forever. Eren's taking her for a drive after.” 

Jean shoots an annoyed glance at Armin through the rearview mirror.

“You knew they were coming here?” 

Armin raises both hands in surrender.

“He only mentioned it in passing when I called him last night! I didn't think we'd bump into them.”

“Maybe, we should go,” Mikasa suggests. “This feels too much like spying.”

The group watches as Eren brushes your hair out of your face when the wind picks up for a brief moment, leaving you to look up at him with a shy smile shaping your lips.

A collective aww echoes inside the car.

“So,” Eren says, smacking his lips together after a sip of water. “I have to ask you something.”

“Hm?”

“What changed your mind?”

“I already told you. You grew on me.”

From the way you avert your gaze and bring the plastic cup of water to your lips for a long sip, he can tell it's an attempt to dismiss the topic. 

He zeroes in on your face and stays that way even after your eyes meet his and read through his silent plea.

“I like how kind you are,” you finally say, voice as soft as ever, caressing his ears and pulling at his heart with every syllable.

Eren doesn't consider himself to be known for his kindness. In fact, before this very moment, it hasn't been a topic to linger in his mind. He doesn't lie awake at night thinking about how he may be perceived and what he can do to switch the narrative in his favor. But perhaps you've hit the nail on what makes Eren Jaeger so appealing beyond his looks because a genuinely kind person doesn't have to think much about being so. 

“You're… caring and strong but gentle at the same time. And you're genuinely nice to everyone, it's admirable.”

Eren's skin burns with a fever as he holds your gaze. 

“I'm actually a bit jealous,” you murmur, tearing your gaze from him to focus on your now empty plate. 

“What? Why?” 

You shake your head, refusing to answer him.

“Nothing. Forget I said that.” 

You don't have the nerve to explain your reasoning as you feel yourself shrink to half your size. It's not something one can just say — to tell someone that you wish you'd met them sooner because maybe then you wouldn't have had to spend your formative years feeling so lonely, that you would've done anything to have been handled with such care when everything was going downhill. To get drunk off of it and maybe now you wouldn't be so closed off to any attention and yet simultaneously still so desperate to be taken care of, to allow yourself to be cradled in someone's arms. It's embarrassing to display such childlike ideas — you're responsible for yourself; you and only you.

Eren's lips press into a thin line as he observes you through pensive eyes. His features soften soon enough, as he decides to retreat from crossing any boundaries.

“Do you mind if I ask one more thing?”

He raises his hands in defense when you start fidgeting in your seat.

“It's not about what you just said, I promise.”

Warily, you nod.

“When we met at Armin's party… I really wanted to get your attention.” 

The familiar wave of heat starts washing over his cheeks. 

“I thought you were pretty — even before when I bumped into you at the bakery. Then when I saw you talking to everyone and smiling, I just… I couldn't stop looking at you. And so I tried to get you to notice me too, you know? But when you said you didn't see me that way I figured I should stop trying. I thought maybe I would get over my crush and I'd be fine with being just friends. So when you kissed me last night at the bar… I kept racking my brain for what I could've done to make you think of me differently.”

Running a hand through his hair, he sighs, the heavy exhale ending in soft shy laughter.

“I'm just curious, that's all. I swear I wasn't trying to get you to look at me anymore.”

A moment passes by in silence after his admission. He waits patiently, his gaze bouncing from your face to his hands, to nowhere at all, and back to you.

“It's a little embarrassing,” you begin.

“I want to know.”

“You remember when we both went to Armin's apartment? When he got sick?”

He hums, encouraging you to continue.

“You were moving around his kitchen, making him soup and tea. And then you sent him to his room to make him rest.” 

You bring a hand up to cover your face, much too shy to give him a full view of your meek expression as you continue speaking.

“You were so stern but gentle. I might’ve felt something that day.”

Pride swells in Eren's chest as the butterflies stir frantically in his stomach and his cheeks flare with heat. 

“Then the day we went apple-picking. When you took care of me after I got hurt?”

He nods when you glance up at him briefly to make sure he's still paying attention.

“That's the day I realized I liked you.”

His attempt at biting back a grin fails miserably and he finally gives in to the thrill produced by the new information. 

You notice this. It's endearing to watch him light up at the compliments you direct at him. It's as if your words hold an incredible power over him — the power to make him a blushing, grinning mess.

“And you're insanely hot, I can't keep lying to myself,” you bluntly state with a shrug.

The sudden laughter bubbling up his throat causes him to fall into a fit of amused coughing. Your laughter laces with his, the sound dancing around you both like music. 

“What about you?” you ask once he regains his breath.

Eren's head tilts in confusion. 

“I've never changed my mind since meeting you,” he firmly states.

The seriousness in his tone squeezes at your chest. You clear your throat, bashful. 

“I mean, the exact moment you started feeling something.”

“The night we met. When we were out on Armin's balcony,” Eren replies without missing a beat.

Your eyebrows twitch in shock.

“That soon? That was the first day we met.”

Flashes of that night come flooding into Eren's memory. The image of you looking up at him with glassy eyes as you wondered aloud if there would be anyone to mourn you — so small, so fragile. He wanted to cradle you in his arms and nurse you to sleep. Just looking at you built an incredible pressure in his chest. From that moment on, he had no doubts about his simple crush evolving into something more meaningful.

“I really couldn't stop looking at you.”

“They look good together.”

A series of hums and murmured agreements follow Mikasa's statement. 

“We can't let them know we spied on their first date,” Connie says, his eyes looking down sternly at everyone until they nod in agreement.

“Blame Armin. He knew the entire time,” Jean jokingly mutters, glancing briefly at the blond through the rearview mirror.

“Again, I didn't think we'd bump into them. Jeez, give me a break,” Armin huffs.

Mikasa suddenly gasps as she watches you and Eren get up from the picnic table and head out of the park to where Eren's car is parked.

“They're leaving, get down!”

The drive to somewhere unknown to you is reminiscent of the drive to Sunrise Orchards. The only difference is that this time, nobody occupies the backseat and it's just you, Eren, and the soft music that swirls around you. 

After Eren refused to give you any hint of your destination, you calmly accepted anything to come your way. As you and Eren engage in an inevitable game of twenty-one questions — nobody's keeping count — you keep your focus on the passing trees and speeding cars, fingers mindlessly tapping along to the beat of the songs that play on the radio that you happen to know. 

“What's something you're really nerdy about?” you ask.

He hums in thought for a moment, then laughs.

“I collect Sailor Moon figurines.”

Your eyes widen.

“Really?” 

Grinning, he nods.

“Not in a weird way,” he clarifies. “I just loved watching the show when I was growing up, and it kind of stayed with me.” He shrugs. “I like cute things.”

You giggle.

“I'm surprised, I would've thought you were into Dragon Ball Z.”

“Oh, I'm definitely a fan, too. But kid Eren wanted to marry Sailor Mars when he grew up.”

You laugh.

“Okay, your turn.”

“What do you think of aliens? Real or fake?” Eren asks.

While your questions mostly refer to basic things such as places he’s traveled to, sports he's played, how many years since he moved to the city, and how many relationships he's been in — he did a year abroad in Spain during college, played lacrosse in high school, it's been three years, and he's only ever had one girlfriend — his land on a random spectrum, from asking about your favorite snacks to your thoughts on the moon landing and if you would've turned around had you been Orpheus.

“Real,” you say without an ounce of hesitation. 

“Really?” 

He turns to look at you with surprise. 

“It's ridiculous to think there's nothing but space matter out there,” you explain matter-of-factly. “The universe is huge. We haven't even explored more than five percent of our own ocean. There's got to be tons of stuff we don't know about up there.” Your hands move around in broad gestures as your voice picks up with every word.

“Okay, relax,” he laughs. “I agree, aliens are real.” He shoots you an accomplice smile. “Maybe.”

You playfully punch his arm.

“Easy there, Rocky. I'm driving here.”

A laugh sputters from your lips.

“Your turn,” he murmurs amusedly. 

You hum as you look out the window pensively until a question pops into your head.

“Are you religious?” 

He shrugs.

“I'm not sure what to call it. My mom's catholic so I grew up going to church and all those things. I don't know if I actually believe in God, though. I'd feel like a hypocrite if I said yes knowing I haven't prayed since I was a kid.”

“What about your dad? Was he religious?” you ask, disregarding the fact your turn in the game is over.

“I think he just converted to make my mom happy. He was more of a science man.”

You nod contemplatively.

“Your turn,” you murmur.

“Hm… same question.” 

You inhale deeply, holding the air in your lungs as you briefly think your answer over. 

“I'm not,” you conclude.

He eyes you furtively.

“Why's that?”

A familiar pain wraps around your throat, as you debate whether to choke the words out or swallow them. Eren turns to you, concerned, as he pulls into a line of cars looking to be let into what seems to be a private park. You make your choice.

“I used to pray a lot when I was younger. I don't think I asked for much but everything always went unanswered.”

The amount of times Eren's been waiting for you to steer near the topic of your past is too many to count. Ever since your drunken comment at Armin's apartment, he's been wanting to know. Pure curiosity played a huge part, of course, but mostly he’s been wanting to understand you. Maybe get to know why you’re so quiet, and why you shrink into yourself when coming face to face with new people.

So now, when it feels like your words are teetering on the edge of the topic, he can't help but feel consumed by the fear that you'll close the door on him before he gets a chance to offer you an ear. 

The car behind him honks impatiently, breaking Eren out of his daze and forcing him to pull up to the now empty spot beside the entrance booth.

He pays the entry fees and pulls up the car into a gravel parking lot. 

“Give me a second,” he smiles before climbing out of his seat and rounding the car to open your door. He keeps a hand on the roof of the car to keep you from bumping your head as you step out and look around curiously.

There's barely a crowd, just a couple of families making their way onto some wooden paths lined with tall grass on both sides. The wind is a bit stronger than it was before, but nothing you can't manage.

“Where are we?”

You look at Eren quizzically. 

Typical of when he's nervous, he runs a hand through his hair.

“Come on,” he says, stuffing his hands in his pockets and leading you down the same path you saw the other families disappear into. 

The further you walk, the wooden planks that make up the path you walk on are further buried in sand. The air grows saltier and the wind grows cooler as the grass at your sides thins out and you're exposed to a private beach. 

You look up at Eren. He shrugs.

“You said you wanted to go to the beach.”

Your lips perk into a delighted smile as you take in the view. Even with the sky in all its gloomy autumn glory, your face lights up at the scene. The water calmly washes back and forth, kissing the shoreline each time as its foaming whispers tickle your ears. The tall grass behind you sways with every blow of the wind.

“I know it kind of sucks right now because of the weather but I wanted to get first dibs with you before we come back in the summer with everyone else.”

You cover a giggle with your hand as you both walk deeper into the sand. Your boots were a fortunate fashion choice. Otherwise, you'd have sand sneaking into your shoes had you worn sneakers like Eren. He doesn't seem to mind, though, as he happily walks beside you, eyeing you carefully in case you take a bad step.

The two of you sit side by side on the sand, far enough from either of the families that came before you so that any ensuing conversations are kept just between you and him. 

You close your eyes and allow the salty air to fill your lungs as the wind blows at your hair. 

Eren keeps his eyes on you the entire time, admiring every dip and curve of your side profile until you gently call his name and meet his mesmerized gaze.

“Hm?” he hums, brushing any stray hairs from your face.

“I have a confession to make,” you sheepishly murmur.

An eyebrow quirks up on Eren's face in response.

“I've been to the beach before. Just once.”

He nods along, unsure of where you're headed.

“It's not a good memory.” Your voice shrinks. “But this is nice.”

The grateful smile on your face fades just long enough for you to lean over and kiss his cheek. That same smile grows when his face reddens. 

“Do you mind if I sit a little closer?” you ask.

He shakes his head.

You inch closer to him, enough so that when you turn to look at him again, your faces are just inches apart.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“You're welcome,” he whispers back.

You remain quiet for a moment, purely enjoying the act of looking into each other’s eyes. It'd be great practice for Eren to stop feeling so shy now that you look at him in the way he always wished you would if he weren't blushing profusely the entire time. But it gets easier with every precious second.

His eyes dart to your lips, which causes you to finally be absorbed by the same shyness as him as you lower your gaze for a second before looking back at him.

Eren has never been so captivated by another girl like this. He so desperately wants to cup your face in his hands and kiss you, but the words you've scattered on the way here keep gnawing at his brain.

“Can I ask you something?”

You nod.

“Now that we're dating,” he pauses to clear his throat. The words are brand new on his tongue, he can nearly imagine a sweet taste to them even if the ones to follow are laced with an uneasy sensation. “Is it okay if I ask you about more personal things?”

Eren has been witness to you looking small only a handful of times — or rather, two. This makes three. 

Upon your hesitation, he decides to retract the idea.

“I’m sorry. If you don’t want to, that’s fine.” 

A reassuring smile pulls at the corners of his lips.

“I can talk about aliens for hours on end.” He sighs. “I just… my offer from last time still stands… and I meant it when I said I want to learn everything about you. But I don’t want you to feel pressured to tell me about it.”

You shake your head — finally, a response.

“It’s not that,” you mutter. “I just don’t want you to feel like I’m dumping everything on you. It wouldn’t be fair.”

His eyes soften.

“I’m asking, though.”

Uncertainty clouds your eyes, leaving Eren to wonder just how bad everything must be for you to feel so scared. Just your blunt revelation on that first night felt like a low blow. It’s more than likely the weight of it all has been crushing you from the inside your entire life. 

You nip at the cracks on your lips, pulling at a sliver of skin until it peels and leaves a faint trace of blood. 

It’s hard to let someone in. You know Eren means well — offering to hear you out and willing to ease the weight that’s been suffocating you for twenty years. But the way you see it, it’s incredibly selfish to ask him to share your burdens when you’re barely strong enough to hold onto them yourself. 

If you’re a bit more honest with yourself, you’re also trying to guard him from destroying his perception of you. You know he’s liked you from the start. You wanted to keep a friendly distance — that was the plan. After all, there’s only so much one can grasp when looking at the big picture. 

Now that you’ve come to understand how you feel about him — and now that you feel you have something to lose — it’ll devastate you to have him see how truly weak and battered you are. He’ll want to comfort you — tell you that you can always seek refuge with him. You’ll accept out of greed. Little by little, you’ll get used to relying on his protection and embrace and he’ll inevitably get tired of it. Not that Eren seems like the kind of person to abandon someone he claims to care about, but sometimes even the most patient hearts get worn down.

“If there’s anything you don’t want to talk about, you can just… punch me in the face or something. I can take a hint.” Eren shrugs.

Your laughter pours into the palm of your hand. Eren watches you proudly, relieved at his success in dissipating your tension.

“Okay,” you murmur.

With an appreciative smile on his lips, he nods.

“Alright.”

He leans back, pressing his palms into the sand as he looks up at the sky in thought.

“What was the town you grew up in like?”

In Eren’s eyes, you nearly seem relieved by the question, which is exactly why he started with something fairly easy. He won’t take things too far today, just enough to strengthen the foundation of what he wants to build. The rest, you can tell him with time.

The name of a city Eren’s never heard of comes out of your mouth.

“It’s not a very big town,” you explain. “But I guess still big enough to have a bad side.”

A humorless chuckle escapes your lips.

“Um… there’s not much to say, really. I was born there, grew up there, and went to school there. It wasn’t a violent area but it was pretty… forgotten, I guess. Most of the people living there were low-income. I lived in this really small apartment with my parents. It only had one bedroom so the living room was also my room. There were many kids there but they were either too old or too young for me to play with, and you already know I don’t have any siblings, so… you know, I grew up feeling pretty lonely.” 

You sigh, offering Eren some silence as a sign that you’re done answering his first question.

“What were your parents like?”

“My mom… was really pretty,” you smile, though when you look back at him, Eren notices a hint of tears lining your lashes. “She had me when she was a senior in high school so my parents got together pretty young. After they separated, I still got to see my dad for a while until he just… forgot. I think he got a new family but I’m still not sure the man I saw a few years ago was him. If it was, then, he was doing pretty well. He was driving his kids to school.”

“Did you like school?” he asks.

“I loved it.” 

Your face lights up as you recall your moments spent in a classroom, thrilled to learn and devouring every book you could from the school’s library.

“I wanted to be a teacher when I grew up.”

A smile makes its way to Eren’s face as he pictures you surrounded by kids eager to learn.

“Yeah?”

You nod, a hint of nostalgia and childlike glee shimmering in your eyes.

“Why didn’t you?”

A heavy sigh slumps your shoulders.

“Well, for starters, I’d need a degree.” 

Brows furrowed, you chew on the inside of your cheek as you contemplate what’s lost. “I only have a GED.”

Eren feels a puncturing sensation as his heart deflates.

“You could still go back to school,” he suggests. “You’re young, you have time.”

It’s nothing you haven’t thought of before, but his words are comforting nonetheless. But you shake your head.

“No. I think the itch has passed, anyway. Besides, I’m happy now just to get by even if I never pictured myself as an office manager.”

Eren nods in understanding.

“Wait, so you didn’t go to high school?”

“I dropped out halfway through freshman year,” you explain. “Things at home weren’t going so well, so I just… had to.”

“So, you started working?”

You nod.

“Yeah. I was fifteen so I picked up as many odd jobs as I could.”

Eren looks up at you in awe.

“And you still found the time to study for your GED. That’s amazing,” he gushes.

A shy gust of air blows through your nose.

“I had some help, so I didn’t struggle too much.”

Eren tilts his head in curiosity. Maybe there was a time when your mom got better enough to help you study.

“Your mom?” he asks.

Your shoulders stiffen and you start blinking nervously. 

“Um… no.”

You look down at your lap, where you nervously pick at your cuticles in an attempt to ground yourself. Eren watches you closely.

“I um… one of my old high school teachers took me in for a while. He helped me prepare for the test.”

Eren purses his lips, confused as to why you seem so uneasy about it. Maybe you’re embarrassed by the fact that you had to search for help outside of your home, but that’s nothing to stress over. In fact, he’s relieved you had someone to lean on during such tough times.

“He sounds like a nice guy,” he murmurs.

“I guess,” you whisper so softly it barely reaches his ears.

“Have you kept in touch with him after moving here?”

A ghostly ‘no’ makes its way past your lips. 

Eren sits up straight, an uneasy feeling nudging at the pit of his stomach. He lowers his head so he can get a view of your face. Your eyes seem dead, all glassiness vanishes as you stare at a blank point.

“Hey, you okay?”

His voice draws your attention. You look back at him, eyes wide and lips parted to take in hushed shallow breaths. Eren’s eyebrows upturn in concern. Little by little, the longer you look at him, your features soften, your shoulders relax, your eyes come back to life, and your breathing steadies.  

“You wanna punch me in the face?” he offers.

“No,” you murmur back, eyes twinkling with amusement. “But can we stop for now?”

He smiles and nods.

“Give me your hand.”

“Why?” you ask, but give in to his direction anyway.

“Because,” he says as he presses your hand down against his chest, right above his heart. “I want to kiss you, and I don’t want you to freak out on me like last time.”

Though you know he’s teasing, embarrassment creeps up your neck at the memory, anyway. Still, you gently stroke his chest with your thumb, relieved to feel his heartbeat on your fingertips.

“It’s not like I’ll freak out each time,” you mumble, breath shortening as he dips his head forward to brush your nose with his.

“Just in case, then,” he whispers, his breath tickling your upper lip.

He tilts his head as he closes the gap between you. At a hair's distance, he whispers a teasing ‘deep breath’, swallowing your laughter immediately after. 

His lips gently caress yours, slowly, with calculated strokes that make you sigh into his mouth. Any lingering trace of stiff muscles and chest pain is gradually ridden by his soft affections. The hand that keeps you holding onto his heart is warm and strong, giving you a light squeeze as his heart rate picks up with the pure ecstasy that comes with kissing you. 

He pulls back, just enough to grant you room to breathe.

“You okay?” he whispers.

“Yeah.”

“You’re not feeling lightheaded or anything?”

You giggle against his lips.

“No.”

“Lucky.”

He captures your lips once more as his free hand comes up to cradle your face and hold you closer. Your skin is warm to the touch, evidence of your timidness as you allow his tongue into your mouth to tease your own. Shivers run down your spine upon a single strained moan that bubbles from Eren’s throat as your tongues push and swirl against each other. 

Despite the heated tone of Eren’s affections, you somehow feel at peace, taken care of, and safe. Your heartbeat echoes in your ears as his pounds against your fingertips in the same frantic manner. With the wind now dancing more aggressively around you as you feel yourself melt into his passionate kiss, this moment feels nothing short of poetic. It’s a mirror to the mayhem of incoherent ideas in your head — dizzying and beautiful, all at once. 

With the hand that’s comfortably nestled into his chest, you push him back lightly but remain close enough for your shallow breaths to lace in the air with his. 

“Eren,” you exhale.

“Hm?”

He pulls back to observe you better. Your lips are glossy with his saliva, reddened and swollen from his sweet assault. Your eyes twinkle as they stare into his affectionately. It’s an image worthy of committing to memory.

“Is it okay if we take things slow?” 

Your voice is low, unsure. It looks as if you’re wary of his response — not out of fear, but rather out of genuine concern.

“Slow is good,” he murmurs, relieved.

“You sure?”

“I promise.”

If anything, Eren’s grateful to follow the pace you set. There’s nothing more addicting than having his lips on yours — and he undoubtedly wants more if he can handle the repercussions on his cardiac system — but if he can ease into it instead of putting his heart at risk, then best not to race into anything.

A gust of wind blows past you, picking up grains of sand in its wake as well as raising goosebumps on your skin.

“We should go. I don’t want you to get sick,” Eren says, voice firm and decisive.

He helps you get back on your feet and starts leading you back to the parking lot.

When you’re just about to reach the wooden planks, you nearly trip over a rock buried in the sand. Eren’s arm wraps around your waist to keep you from falling. As you regain your balance, he grabs onto your hand, lacing your fingers together while he fakes nonchalance through his blushing cheeks.

“Just in case,” he mutters.

 He doesn’t let go until you reach his car.

Eren carefully pulls into a spot in the parking lot behind your apartment building. With a smile, he unbuckles his seatbelt and rounds the car to open your door.

Your hand meets his, comfortably slotting your fingers between his as if his hold has been tailored to accommodate you.

He glances at your locked hands and back at you, a small smile playing on his blushing face.

“Just in case,” you murmur.

You walk hand in hand to the main entrance and make your way to the elevator. You settle in, glancing at each other to exchange smiles.

“Do you think I’ll have any luck for a second date?”

You click your tongue, shaking your head in mock disappointment.

“Ah, you see, you just ruined it by asking.”

“Oh, shoot,” he groans, theatrically snapping his fingers. “Well, what can you do, am I right?”

With a shake of your head, you smile.

The elevator dings on the third floor and you make your way down the hall toward your apartment door. The short journey brings back memories of the previous night, or rather what occurred just some hours ago. It all seems so foreign now as if the last time Eren watched you unlock your door was ages ago — as if your new reality has been going on for more than a single day. The couple facing each other as they struggle to bid each other goodbye is completely different from the two shy people who shared a kiss at a bar. 

“Thank you for today, Eren,” you murmur as you step forward to place a hand on his chest, in your designated spot. 

Humans need to go through the motions an average of twenty-eight times to build a habit, but it’s no surprise that holding his heartbeat in your hand has turned into one much more easily with all the warm feelings it awakes inside you.

You blink up at him, hoping he’ll take the hint. The corners of your lips tug upwards when he dips forward, aiding you in closing the distance between you.

“My pleasure,” he murmurs, gazing affectionately into your eyes.

His free hand reaches your face, cradling it softly and stroking your cheek with his thumb as you lean into his touch.

“I think you’re a shoo-in for a second date, by the way.”

“You must not have many prospects in your agenda, then,” he teases, recalling your sarcasm from the night before.

“No, I do,” you reply with an air of arrogance. “But there’s only one I like,” you whisper as his nose brushes against yours.

“I hope it’s me, otherwise this entire afternoon has been very misleading,” he grins.

In response, you press your lips against his in one swift peck which he takes the reins on converting to a proper kiss goodbye one breath later. 

Slowly, gently, warmly. Very fitting for a guy like him to kiss.

“I’ll start making date plans as soon as I get home,” he murmurs against your lips.

“Don’t be too long, please.”

He chuckles softly.

“I won’t.”

The warmth on the side of your face fades, leaving you to feel empty from the lack of his touch as his hand falls to his side.

“I’ll see you soon,” he grins, stepping away further as he waves you goodbye. 

“Bye, Eren,” you smile, watching him turn around and head to the elevator.

You perk up at a sudden reminder, and his name bounces off your tongue instinctively.

He turns around, his boyish grin still playing on his lips from your goodbyes.

“Yeah?”

“I’ll tell you everything one day. I promise.”

His eyes light up at your words while yours shimmer with hope and sincerity. 

“Take your time. I’m here for the long haul.”

Once you shut the door behind you, you bring a hand to your heart, an echo of a smile still lingering on your features as Eren’s words ring in your head.

You slip out of your boots, changing into slippers to be more comfortable.

With the press of a button on your remote, the TV blinks to life, the evening news serving as background while you fix yourself a cup of tea in your kitchen. The reporter’s words are mostly lost on you as you still struggle to ground yourself from the high of a perfect first date.

It’s not until the words woman found dead reach your ears, that you abruptly crash down to earth and rush to turn up the volume. 

With a fearful glassiness coating your eyes, you stare at the television screen as the details of a new murder are disclosed. Despite your undivided attention set on the news, you only manage to grasp a few relevant words. Slash, neck, dumpster, twenty-three, suspicion of rape. The blood drains from your face and your mind goes completely blank when it’s revealed that the victim was last seen attending a Halloween event at a bar last night — the very same bar you were at last night with your friends. 

The kettle on the stove screeches for your attention moments after the news is replaced by a less tragic one, but it takes you much longer to find the strength to stand.

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