#mixed feelings on some of the direction in this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dahlibae · 6 hours ago

Text

COME HOME WITH ME.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

(wanda maximoff x fem!reader)

summary — Wanda brought you home to meet her parents for the first time this Christmas, but for some reason, the woman is unable to keep her hands off you.

warning(s) — christmas drabble: age gap couple, alternative universe, mistletoe kisses, older!wanda, smut(?), nipple sucking, teasing (18+)

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The windshield wipers swiped rhythmically against the steady drizzle of snow as Wanda drove down the winding road towards her childhood home. The air inside the car was warm, the scent of fresh pine from a little tree-shaped air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror mixing with the lingering aroma of cinnamon from the hot chocolate you shared at the last rest stop. Wanda sat beside you, her gloved hand that wasn’t focused on driving the vehicle occasionally pointed out landmarks from her past—a diner she swore made the best cherry pie, the park where she and Pietro used to sled down the biggest hill, and the bridge where she'd once dared him to climb to the top… all for him to fall off and break his arm.

Her voice softened when she spoke about her parents. “They’ll love you.” She said, more to herself than to you, but you caught the edge of nervousness in her tone. She hadn’t brought home a partner since Vision – her ex husband – and you were, well, nothing like him. For one, you were a woman and her parents weren’t even aware of their daughter’s sexuality. And two, you were quite younger than her. You reached over, resting a hand on hers. She gave you a quick smile before looking back out the window.

The sky dimmed as she turned onto a long, snow-covered driveway lined with bare trees. At the end of it stood a cozy two-story house, its windows glowing golden against the winter evening. A wreath decorated the front door, and string lights framed the roofline, casting a cheerful, twinkling light over the yard. Wanda inhaled deeply as she parked, then turned to you.“Ready?” She asked, her voice almost teasing. You nodded, though your heart thudded nervously.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The warmth of the house embraced you immediately as you stepped inside, the scent of freshly baked cookies and coffee filling the air. Wanda’s mother - Iryna - greeted you with a hug that was surprisingly strong for her petite frame, her Sokovian accent making her words feel like a soft melody. Her - Olek - father shook your hand firmly, his eyes kind yet probing. He was staggeringly tall, even taller than her twin brother who must’ve been over six foot. It was clear Wanda took after him the most. Pietro wasn’t far behind, slapping you on the back with a grin that matched Wanda’s when she was up to something mischievous. You had met him before. He had came over to Wanda’s house one day, not expecting his sister to have anyone over, but found you… underneath her.

In no time, you were sat on the couch, a little overwhelmed but charmed by Wanda’s mother after she had led you deeper into the living room, already firing off a million questions. Wanda was sitting next to you, her hand occasionally brushing against yours as she joined in on her mother’s conversation with you, before she was whisked away, leaving you defenceless against her mother.

Pietro had been mischievous all evening. Every so often, you’d catch him whispering to Wanda or their dad before smirking in your direction. You figured he was just enjoying teasing his sister about bringing someone home for the holidays, and him being the only person in the room to know prior to Christmas.

You had finally settled in once Wanda had made her way back to your side, when Pietro suddenly appeared, a gleam in his eye. In his hand was a sprig of mistletoe, held high above you both. "Look at this!" He announced, drawing everyone’s attention. "A little holiday magic, right here!"

Your face went warm immediately, and you caught Wanda's eye. She looked equally surprised, her cheeks flushed. Her parents chuckled softly, sharing a knowing glance.

"Pietro.” Wanda warned, her tone half-amused, half-exasperated.

"But, sis, it’s tradition!" He declared, unapologetic, holding the mistletoe steady above the two of you. "You wouldn’t want to break tradition now, would you?"

You glanced at Wanda, unsure of what to do. Her eyes met yours, and for a moment, the noise of the room seemed to fade. Then, before you could think too much, she leaned in. Her hands cupped your cheeks, and her lips pressed softly against yours. The kiss was gentle but sure; family friendly and yet still managed to send warmth spreading through you like the glow of the fire.

When she pulled back, her eyes lingered on yours, a mix of shyness and confidence in her expression. Around you, the room erupted in playful cheers, Pietro’s laughter loudest of all.

“Guess you really like tradition, sis. He teased, earning a glare from Wanda that only made him laugh harder.

Her mother chimed in, her voice warm. “It’s good to see you happy, my love.”

“Thank you, Mama.” Wanda voiced before reaching for your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours as she leaned closer, ignoring Pietro’s continued antics. “Sorry about him,” she murmured, her voice just for you, “he lives for chaos.”

You smiled, squeezing her hand. “I don’t mind.”

She tilted her head, studying you for a moment before breaking into a soft smile. “Good,” she said, her voice almost a whisper, before she placed another quick kiss to your lips.

Afterwards, dinner was a whirlwind of laughter, clinking glasses, and stories that made Wanda groan and bury her face in her hands. You noticed how her family’s teasing only made her more endearing, her cheeks permanently flushed pink with a mix of embarrassment and affection. A reaction you’d rarely see with the older woman. By the time dessert was served, you felt more at ease, the initial nervousness melting away as Wanda reached under the table to squeeze your hand.

Later that night, after the dishes had been cleared and her family had gone to bed, you found yourself in Wanda’s old room. It was smaller than you expected, the walls painted a soft lavender and adorned with faded posters of bands and movies from her teenage years. You wouldn’t admit it to the woman but some of these bands you had no clue of. A small Christmas tree sat in the corner, its ornaments mismatched but charming, clearly a collection built over the years. She sat cross-legged on the bed, watching you with a soft smile as you took in the space. “It’s weird being back here,” she admitted, “so much has changed, but this room... it’s like time stood still.”

You nodded, moving to sit beside her. “It’s nice,” you said honestly. “It feels like you.”

Her smile widened as she leaned against your shoulder. The house was quiet now, save for the faint creaks of the old wood settling, the muffled sound of wind outside and the series coming from her brother’s room. For a moment, you simply sat there, soaking in the stillness, the glow of the little tree casting a soft light across the room. “Thank you for coming,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “It means a lot to me.”

You turned to her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“Baby, no, stop, we’ll get caught.” You whispered, voice barely audible over the TV show playing in the background. Your hands hovered over her waist, unsure whether to pull her closer or gently push her away. Now, she was straddling your lap, her warm breath fanning against the crook of your neck. Her lips, teasing as usual, trailed wet kisses down to your collarbone, sending shivers coursing through your body. You bit your lip to keep from making a sound, every nerve in your body screaming at you to give in to her touch.

“Wanda.” You pleaded again, though your voice lacked conviction, and your hands had finally settled on her waist, fingertips brushing against the soft material of her open blouse. She chuckled softly, the sound low and sultry, vibrating against your skin.

"What’s the matter, baby?" She murmured, voice dripping with mischief. She nipped at your pulse, her teeth grazing your skin just enough to make your breath hitch. "Afraid someone will hear?"

You tilted your head back against the headboard, your gaze darting toward the door. It was closed, but the faint sound of her brother’s TV reminded you just how thin the walls were. "We’re in your parents' house.” You hissed, though your grip on her waist tightened as she rolled her hips into yours again.

"And?" She teased, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. Her green ones sparkled with a mix of amusement and desire, a smirk playing on her lips. Her red hair was slightly tousled, and the glow of the fireplace painted her cheeks a soft pink.

You swallowed hard, your resolve crumbling under her gaze. “And you know I can’t keep quiet.” You pouted, hoping to win some sympathy from her - it usually worked.

“Aw, that’s okay.” She leaned back and you thought you had won, until you noticed her reaching for her remote to turn the volume of her TV up. “I can just help you keep quiet.” She leaned in once again, brushing her nose against yours, her breath warm against your lips. Before you could protest further, her lips claimed yours in a heated kiss - much more intense than the last. Your hands moved of their own accord, sliding up her back and pulling her closer as her hips rocked harder against yours.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“Look at me, princess.”

You were laid on your back. Your clothes and bra long forgotten as they were flung from your body and onto the floor next to hers. You felt Wanda shift from beside you, her body no longer pressed against yours, as her hands began to push your legs apart, placing herself between them. It didn’t take long for her fingers to find you, making slow circles against you through your soaked panties. “Is this what you want?” She asked, but you couldn’t respond, too wrapped up in the pleasure of her fingers and the sight of her breasts pooling over her bra.

She took your silence as an answer.

“No? You don’t?” Her fingers slowed, now trailing up and down, just missing your clit.

“No, please!” You cried out, hips bucking into her touch. “I mean, I- please, Wands.”

She shushed you, leaning over to place soft soothing kisses against your lips. “It’s okay, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Need you to touch me.” You replied without a breath, no longer concerned if her family heard you or not. She pressed her lips firmer against yours, tongue softly stroking against yours as she hummed her approval into your mouth.

“Okay, princess. Remember to stay quiet, okay? We don’t want to wake anyone up.” You felt your body clench at her words, as her head ducked, tongue swiping against your nipple, she has sucked between her lips.

“My good girl,” she mumbled, your nipple pulled from between her teeth as she switched to the other. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” You managed to say between whines.

Wanda rewarded you by pulling your panties down, fingers rolling tight circles around your nerves until you came with her name spilling from your lips, and into her curls, as she held you in her arms.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

#dahlibae fics! ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you

85 notes · View notes

karasu4life · 1 day ago

Text

Pic creds: floreaii on Pinterest

Sae Itoshi x Spanish reader, I guess... It's kinda short, not a full story but more like a little self indulgent

I can do a second part hehehehehehehbwhehedbd if y'all like slowburn

Not proofread... At all... 6.3k

First post

Sae was finally getting comfortable in this new country, after being alone for so long. Without his parents, his little brother, or anyone to keep him company during the endless stretches of free time that had slowly dwindled into nothing. Sae dedicated his entire life to football. Football, and only football. To be the best... Striker? He wasn’t even sure anymore. He should know. He was Japan's prodigy, after all.

Every day was a relentless pursuit of improvement, every second accounted for. So the fact that studying was mandatory in Spain—something he couldn't escape—was like a thorn in his side.

He had arrived at thirteen, just in time to be thrust into "primero de la ESO," the first year of high school. Now, at fifteen, he was in tercero. The years blurred together, marked only by training and the occasional match. Classes? They were background noise.

Sae glanced at his grades, printed neatly on the paper he held. Around him, his classmates were a cacophony of shouts—some celebrating, others wailing in despair.

Ah. PE.

It was the only subject where his scores shone. The rest? A mix of pity passes and resigned teachers. He folded the paper, tucked it into his backpack, and waited for the bell. Recess, or recreo, meant thirty minutes of freedom. Normally, he would spend it playing football, but today, he didn’t feel like it.

When the bell finally rang, the classroom erupted into chaos. Chairs screeched, voices overlapped, and footsteps thundered toward the door. Everyone scattered, eager for their break—everyone except one person.

You.

You were fumbling with your backpack, struggling to fix your hair while trying to retrieve your lunch. Sae watched as you sighed, frustration evident on your face.

"Me han gastado la misma broma… otra vez." Your voice was quiet, resigned.

You stood up, leaving your things behind. It wasn’t the first time Sae had seen this. The so-called friends you surrounded yourself with were more like hyenas, always pulling these "jokes." Was that considered bullying or just friendly bantering? He wasn’t sure, and he didn’t care to label it. All he knew was that you didn’t deserve it at all.

Before he realized what he was doing, he was already on his feet, moving towards you. His body acted on instinct, though his mind questioned why. Sae wasn’t one to meddle. He didn’t really care for people. Yet here he was, holding out his lunchbox in your direction.

You blinked, startled, your eyes flicking from the lunchbox to his face.

"Eh?"

"Yo puedo quedarme con… contigo en el, how do you say it, recreo." His Spanish was stilted, awkward, and the furrow in his brow deepened as he stumbled over the words.

A giggle unintentionally escaped your lips before you could stop it. His frown deepened even more, and you quickly cleared your throat, trying to compose yourself.

"Ah, ¡claro! Uh, I mean… I'll put my English classes to good use. Of course you can stay with me! Or, eh, I can stay with you…"

Sae gave a curt nod and turned toward the door. You scrambled to grab your things, trailing after him like a lost puppy.

He didn’t say much as you walked, his expression unreadable. But you didn’t mind.

You never found the perfect wave of words to describe this boy, man, guy, dude, whatever. He was someone admirable to say less. You would always go to his matches, sneaking out of your group of friends just to see him play. You could call them your comfort space, a place where there was no one except you, your thoughts and Sae. The fact that he was someone cold attracted you, making you too curious for your own good. You wanted to get to know him without being brushed off like the rest of people who tried to talk with him.

Qué sorpresa.

Sae found the perfect wave of words to describe you. Someone annoying, very much talkative, sometimes wanting to look cool but failing miserably to the point where you don't even try anymore and just start being yourself. The fact that you took the time to try to fit in, even if you were from this same country, made him want to know more about you. Why would you do that? He couldn’t understand why you bothered pretending to do so when you were clearly better off alone. But maybe that’s what made you different from him. Maybe you weren't afraid of trying, even if it meant failing. Sae didn't try. He didn't let himself fail. He wanted to know why you did.

How surprising.

You found a spot under the shade of a tree, just far enough from the chaos of the football field. The moment you sat down, a ball went flying towards your head.

You saw your whole life flash by in 5 seconds, which was how long it took Sae to react by stopping the ball with his foot and sending it back into the field, startling the group of boys who had sent it flying in the first place.

"¿Seriously?" Sae muttered, his tone dripping with irritation as he sat down and opened his lunchbox.

You stared at him, still processing what had just happened.

"Do you attract bad luck, by any chance?" he asked, his gaze flicking to you briefly before focusing on his food.

"As far as I know… no?" You frowned, though his question made you think. Were you really a magnet for bad luck? Then something caught your eye: his lunch.

"You didn’t bring un bocata!"

Sae looked up, confused. “Un what?”

"¡Bocata!" you repeated.

"…Bocado?"

"No, bocata. Like… sandwich? Bocadillo?" You gestured dramatically, as if miming the shape of a sandwich would help him understand.

"Ah. Right. That." He looked down at his neatly packed lunch—rice, chicken, and vegetables arranged with military precision. "No."

You gasped, placing a hand on your chest as if he had offended the entire nation.

"¿Cómo que no?"

"¿Cómo que sí?" he shot back, his tone flat but carrying the faintest hint of amusement.

"That sentence doesn't even make sense!"—you retorted—"Do you do anything else except playing football?"

"Do you do anything else except watching people playing football?" Your jaw dropped. So, he had noticed. All those times you thought you’d been sneaky, hiding in the bleachers or at the edge of the field—he’d known.

Maybe you were too bored, didn't you have a home?

You were startled. Shutting up and fixing your hair again, uselessly putting some strands behind your ear that decided to go to their initial position. You struggled opening your backpack, Sae was interested.

What was today's prank?

"They put glue on the, this," you pointed at the zipper with a slight frown "the cremallera. Eh, zip-zip."

"Maybe you should do something about it." the boy in front of you took the backpack, forcing it open. It broke the zipper but at least you had your maravilloso bocata.

"Gracias! Eh, ah, quiero decir, no, wait, I mean thank you!"

You both smiled, even though his was almost unnoticeable... Heh... You could say you were special.

It didn't last a bit, too.

Sae had noticed many stupid habits you had. Fixing your hair when you were nervous, hiding every time the teacher asked something because you didn't like being picked, how you only put effort into the things that interested you... That's something both of you had in common.

But, the stupidest one by far was how you didn't face your so-called friends when they did things like this.

"You should report them." said the redhead, bringing a munch of rice to his mouth. "Are these really just jokes?"

"Bueno... I mean, well. It's not that bad. The worst thing they've done to me is when I decided to get too silly in a call where they took 12 screenshots to make them stickers."

You took a big bite off your bocata, looking at Sae. Sae stared back.

...

"I want to feel sorry for you but you make it impossible."

Pspspsps is it ooc

43 notes · View notes

dozing-marshmallow · 2 days ago

Text

OTHER FRANKIE X READER WITH COLD ONE SHOT

In a place with little food, toiletries and cleanliness, you were bound to get sick.

You leaned back on the chair,”I…I feel so dizzy.”

“Dizzy?” Frankie repeated, putting his hand on your forehead,“Hm… I don’t feel a difference.”

You put your hand on your forehead and you were shocked by how hot it was.

“Oh God… I’m sick.” you declared, coughing, covering your mouth.

“How can you tell?” Frankie asked, confused. To him, a person that had a hot temperature was a sign of life, not something to be concerned about.

You weren’t in the right headspace to explain, and you wanted to sleep. But you knew you wouldn’t be able to if you didn’t take a remedy first, otherwise your stuffy nose would keep you up. You struggled to stand to your feet, gripping on your seat.

You weakly asked him,“Do you have any hot water and salt?”

“Uh…yeah?” he replied in a tone that made you question the validity,“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Could you-” you coughed, directing it to the ground,“Bring some?”

He nodded hesitantly and walked away.

Hunger was screaming from your stomach. You were apologetic to yourself that the only thing you had to eat was cereal. You could kill for one warm soup. Chicken, soft carrots, tomato sauce…

You cursed yourself. Why would you put that delicious picture in your head? Deceiving yourself, that that picture was close…to a body that’s already sick.

Frankie came back with an empty glass and a container of salt, slightly disappointed he didn’t have a soup with him,“You’ll find the hot water in the bathroom, if you turn the right knob.”

Following that, you went into one of the bathrooms, cup and salt in hand. You shook some of the salt in it and swirled the glass slightly to mix it, having forgotten to ask for a spoon. You didn’t care to check if it was evenly distributed before you took a mouthful. Instead of swallowing it, you gargled it, tilting your head at the ceiling. You gargled until you gagged, automatically spitting it out. You saw a blob of green mucus slide down the hole in the sink.

You repeated the process a few more times, each time, a green phlegm exiting. After finishing the second refill, you thought enough. The back of your throat felt cleaner, though not completely washed out yet. You rubbed some water along your mouth and found some unused toilet paper to dry, and blow your nose with. Your stomach, still empty.

You glanced in the dingy mirror above the sink and saw just how unwell you appeared: your hair was a mess, your sclerae were pink and the area around your nose was flaking skin. Dabbing water was useless, the need to clear your throat again clouding your exhausted mind.

This was the best you could do. You were just going to have to pray that you didn’t get sicker.

You staggered out, hands lazily gliding on the wall for support,“I’m fine, I’ll just need to take it easy.” you thought aloud, groaning at your stuffy nose, unpleasantly wiping your hand under it,“God I feel so hot…”

You didn’t have a proper bed to sleep in so you retreated to your chair, tucking your knees under your chin. You coughed once more, too tired from suffering in your hot sick body to cover your mouth.

“I’m assuming that didn’t work?” Frankie asked, judging by the state of your body, putting his hand on your forehead again,“Mm mm. You feel the same.”

“It’s tem-temporary.” you assured half truthfully,“I’ll need to sleep…and…”

“Don’t you need some medicine?” he asked.

“No… Normally, I’d just…drink tea.” you explained, inhaling, some of the snot ending up in your throat,“I’m only supposed to have medicine if it’s really really bad…”

“And you wouldn’t consider this really really bad?” Frankie chuckled, affectionately mocking the irony.

“No… I-It’s fine-” you coughed,“It’ll go in a few days… It’s nothing to worry about, Frankie.”

“I think you’re just being polite.” the rabbit accused, hands on his hips,“What was it you said you needed? Tea? I’ll get some prepared. You just stay there, do what you need to.”

“Than-” you bellowed a cough again,“you.”

He doesn’t reply back. It wasn’t food, but it’ll certainly make you feel better.

#finding frankie #finding frankie x reader #finding frankie the other frankie x reader #finding frankie game #the other frankie #the other frankie x reader #finding frankie the other frankie #the real frankie #the real frankie x reader #other frankie

32 notes · View notes

multi-fandom-imagine · 23 hours ago

Note

I need an imagine of house vs a his toddler daughter having a tantrum

A/n: Girl!Dad House 👏

It started innocently enough, Emma, the one-year-old firecracker of the House family, had been happily playing in the living room with her favorite blocks. House was sitting in his chair, half-watching her while going through some paper work, his cane leaning against the armrest. You were in the kitchen, feeding Ethan, Emma's brother and your six year old Lilly. It was the kind of quiet moment that House knew never lasted long in their house.

It all began when Emma, determined as ever, tried to stack her blocks into a tower that was clearly too tall and unstable. As soon as the top block tipped over and the whole structure came crashing down, her little face scrunched up, and a loud wail erupted from her tiny lungs.

House looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously? It’s a tower. They’re supposed to fall.” Glasses perched on his nose.

Emma didn’t care. Her frustration boiled over, and she threw one of the blocks across the room, narrowly missing the leg of House’s chair.

“Impressive aim,” House muttered, setting the down the paper.“But you’re not winning any points for sportsmanship.”

Emma, clearly not satisfied with her father’s lack of sympathy, picked up another block and chucked it in his direction. This one hit his shin with a dull thud.

House winced but smirked, leaning forward. “Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? You think you can intimidate me with your tiny arms and big feelings?”

Emma let out a loud, indignant scream, her face turning red as she flopped onto her back and began kicking her legs in full tantrum mode.

“Wow,” House said dryly, watching her theatrics. “You’ve really got this down, don’t you? I’m almost impressed...you know your sister would do the same thing. I'm immune to your tears."

You appeared in the doorway, holding Ethan on her hip, Lilly by you side your expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. “What’s going on in here?”

“Your daughter,” House said, gesturing to the tiny tornado on the floor, “has declared war on gravity and is taking it out on me.”

You sighed, walking over to set Ethan in his playpen before kneeling next to Emma. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Emma didn’t answer, too busy flailing and crying, her frustration clearly reaching its peak.

“She tried to build a tower, it fell, and now I’m apparently public enemy number one,” House explained, still sitting back in his chair, his tone laced with sarcasm.

You shot him a look. “Greg, she’s a baby. She’s upset.”

“And I’m offering her valuable life lessons about disappointment,” House quipped. “What do you want me to do? Sing her a lullaby?”

You ignored him, turning your attention back to Emma. “Emma, sweetie, I know you’re upset, but throwing things isn’t okay. Can you use your words and tell Mommy what’s wrong?”

Emma paused her tantrum just long enough to glare at House, then pointed at him accusingly. “Daddy mean!”

House smirked, crossing his arms. “I rest my case. She’s already a natural at assigning blame.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, even as she tried to keep a straight face. “Greg, can you at least try to help calm her down?”

House sighed dramatically, leaning forward and picking up one of the blocks that Emma had thrown. He held it out to her, his expression mock-serious. “Alright, Emma. Let’s make a deal. You stop crying, and I’ll help you build the best tower this living room has ever seen.”

Emma sniffled, eyeing him suspiciously but clearly intrigued by the offer. She sat up, still clutching one of her blocks, her little face tear-streaked but curious.

“That’s right,” House said, his tone softening slightly. “We’ll make it taller and sturdier. And if it falls again, we’ll blame it on your mom.”

“Greg!” You scolded, though the smile on your face showed you weren't serious.

Emma hesitated for a moment, then crawled over to House, handing him her block with a determined look. “Build!"

House smirked, glancing up at you. “See? Negotiation. It’s all about setting terms.”

Shaking your head, you watched as House lent forward to start stacking the blocks with Emma. As the tower grew taller, Emma’s tantrum was completely forgotten, replaced by giggles and babbling as she tried to help. House even pretended to cheer when she placed the final block on top.

“There,” he said, sitting back. “The Eiffel Tower of Blocks. It’s a masterpiece.”

Emma clapped her hands, clearly delighted. You smiled, leaning against the doorway as you watched the two. Despite House’s sarcasm and gruff exterior, he always managed to connect with the kids in his own unique way.

As if on cue, the tower wobbled and came crashing down again. Emma’s eyes widened, and you braced yourself for another meltdown—but instead, Emma looked up at House and laughed.

“Again!” she said, thrusting a block into his hand.

House smirked, glancing at you. “See? Told you I’ve got this parenting thing down.”

Rolling your eyes you stepped forward with a smile spreading across her face. “You’re impossible.” You stated placing a kiss to the side of his temple.

��And yet, you love me,” House said smugly, already starting to rebuild the tower with Emma.

"That I do,” you said softly, watching your husband and daughter bond in the aftermath of what could’ve been a disaster. For all his flaws, House had a way of turning even the worst tantrums into moments of connection and that is something you wouldn’t trade for anything.

#drabbles #drabble #gregory house #greg house #gregory house x reader #greg house x reader #house #house md #house x reader #house md x reader #house md x you

35 notes · View notes

xaeoism · 1 day ago

Text

Christmas Baking (scaramouche x gender neutral reader)

A/N - Going into 2025 writing about the same character I've liked since 2020 wasn't on my bingo list.

The smell of dried oranges and rosemary fills every corner of your home, a telltale sign of Christmas approaching. You've always loved Christmas best, the intimacy that comes with the season of snow is enough to make you want to fall in love once more.

You walk into the kitchen and lo and behold, Scaramouche is standing there in all his glory in his pyjamas with a cute apron tied around his waist. You walk behind him before giving him a hug from the back.

"Up so early? What are you doing?", you ask, looking over at the scene displayed on the marbled table as you place your chin on his shoulder.

"I'm making tres leches, and I always wake up early. But you, awake at this hour? Astounding.", he remarks, keeping up his mixing of the batter and paying no attention to you.

"It's Christmas, scara. Can I not catch a break from all your snide remarks for once?", you laugh.

"Perhaps for your New Year's resolution, you had better change yourself for the better. Maybe then I'll tone down on the insults."

"Oh? But you love me for the way I am, no?", you tease, turning your head to give him a kiss.

He doesn't respond to your teasing, but what he does is turn his head to kiss you back, and that action alone tells you what his answer is already.

"Whatever, there's apple crumble in the microwave for you by the way, I know you love eating those", he says.

Your heart flutters and a smile spreads across your face when you hear him say he made your favorite dessert. You tighten the hug for a little while, thanking him for his hard work before your hand reaches for the cupboard to pour some Zinfandel to pair with your apple crumble.

The tender slices of the sweet-tart apple, caramel notes of brown sugar paired with cinnamon tastes like heaven on your tongue and you can't stop yourself from stuffing another bite in your mouth. You reach for the glass of wine, swirling it a little before taking a sip. The wine's ripe berry undertones mingle with the sweetness of the desert, creating the perfect balance.

Scaramouche turns to look at your contended expression and feels his heart swell with love and pride.

"Don't drink too much wine so early on, you'll develop health issues faster than you expect.", he comments before getting back to pouring the batter into a pan and putting it into the oven.

"Scara, try this. It's so good.", you insist, scooping a part of the crumble to feed it to him.

Before he can protest, you shove it into his mouth and you see his expression change from annoyance to cringing out at the sweetness of the dessert.

"Isn't it absolutely delectable? All the desserts you make for me are always delicious, I only wish that I could do the same for you, scara", you say as you scoop another mouthful of the dessert to eat.

"If you'd like, you can help me finish the tres leches when it's baked. It'll be like you made it.", he suggested.

✧ ｡ .: * ♡

"Now, pour some the condensed milk mixture over the whole cake, and make sure that you pour it over the holes that I've made in the cake.", he directs, standing beside you to ensure that you were doing everything correctly.

You carefully pour a layer over the entire cake just as he says, making sure that you let the cake absorbs the mixture before you pour another layer over it. Your mouth is already watering seeing the cake turn moist from the amount of liquid it is holding.

"Time for the icing, take some of it from the bowl and gently spread it over the cake."

You look over at the bowl of icing and with the spatula in it, you scoop a dallop of icing and spread it evenly over the dessert. The icing on the cake looks just like the snow outside, soft and perfect.

"Now, you can add whatever toppings you'd like.", he says.

"The treat seems sweet enough as is, I think I'll add some dark chocolate so that you can also enjoy it with me.", you say as you unwrap some dark chocolate from the fridge.

With one hand holding the dark chocolate, the other raises the box grater on top of the cake. You found yourself struggling to grate the chocolate as the grater kept moving above the cake. Every attempt to grate the chocolate down the jagged surface resulted in uneven curls that fluttered onto the cake and stubborn chunks that clung onto the grater's teeth. Frustrated, you sigh in defeat.

Scaramouche watches you struggle the entire time, thinking that you look stupidly adorable for how you chose dark chocolate as the topping as that was the only chocolate that he could tolerate, and for how you tried to grate the chocolate despite never having tried a grater before.

"You're doing it wrong.", is all he says before he goes behind you, hands on your own, guiding you to put the grater down on a cutting board to grate the chocolate, producing perfect looking curls that can easily be scattered on top of the cake. "This is how it should be done."

You can hardly pay attention to what he is saying, in fact, you don't think you hear what he said at all. All you could focus on was the warmth that was transmitted from his hand to your own. You loved it, the warmth of his hand on yours, and the closeness of the both of you. It creates a warmth that spreads throughout your entire being, and you hope that it will continue to warm you until the year ends.

"Hey, earth to you? Are you there? The tres leches is done.", he quips, snapping his fingers to get your attention.

"Oh, sorry. But, oh, the tres leches looks absolutely delicious, scara. Let me take a few pictures and then we can try it.", you say as you whip out your phone to take a few shots of it from different angles.

Scaramouche watches you take out two forks when you finish, handing one to him and signalling to him to eat some of the cake.

You dig into the cake first, stuffing a large portion straight into your mouth. The flavours of the cake and the dark chocolate creates a symphony on your tongue, and you smile in delight.

He helps himself to a small piece of the dessert, however, making sure that he gets all the elements of it in the one piece. He can't deny that the bitterness of the dark chocolate really helps to balance out the sweetness from the moist cake, something that he tethers over constantly.

He loves you, for how you're willing to pick something bitter to top the cake despite your sweet tooth. He loves the thought of it so much that he hooks an arm over you to pull you close for a kiss on the cheek.

"So, was your wish fulfilled?", he asks, arm still hooked over your shoulders to keep you close.

"If you enjoyed it, then I'd say it's a success.", you , turning over to him to give him a sweet smile.

"Consider this a Christmas with fulfilment then. Merry Christmas, darling.", he murmurs, tilting his head to give you another kiss.

#genshin impact #genshin #kunikuzushi #scaramouche #scaramouche fluff #scara #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader

39 notes · View notes

cosmicspark24 · 11 hours ago

Text

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ Pick a card time! ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎

☁︎ Collective energies! ☁︎

Hi everyone! It's taken me a fair bit to get this done for you so any shares, likes and comments are appreciated. While reading I found some collective themes you can skip this bit or come back to it if you like it. Collectively there were lots of themes surrounding; new beginnings, new love (lots of romantic offers/new relationships), embracing creativity, investing in yourself, turning pain into power, going after your dreams, mental prisons due to perspective shift being needed, betrayals & travel. I hope you enjoy, I will be keeping these coming in 2025. Please check out my blog if you have a chance and there will be a Youtube channel coming next year. Love ya,

Thando

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎

Hello Pile 1:

Please remember that this is a collective reading so only take what feels intuitively to be your message. Thank you.

2025, 1st half:

The main theme of the first half of 2025 for you is new beginnings. What a wonderful start to a new year!! I see a few different themes for the people in this pile. We will begin with this theme of work. I feel that some of you have started new jobs, been promoted or are renewing your approach to work. There is an energy here of carefully balancing all the plates in your life, ensuring that you drop not a single one. I see this being something you achieve with relative easy. This does not mean it requires effort. I see some of you being very concerned with the idea of equal give and take. If the company refuses to pay me more, then I reserve the right to do the bare minimum and never agree to their attempts at giving me overtime - type energy. So if you have been thinking about a financial venture and have been feeling like you are not getting as much back as you are receiving, what can you change to facilitate you taking back your own power? I see especially for any masculines or women in their masculine energy/era that making money or juggling the important practical parts of your life is greatly important. I see you putting everything in your power in driving your new beginnings foreward. In that, I see that you are the wind beneath your wings. I am proud of you pile 1. For any masculines in this pile who have been confused about how to proceed with a relationship, I see you making moves towards that. For some of you this is physical travel to the one you love, for others you are taking a metaphorical journey back to your person. This reading is heavily talking about or directed at masculine energies. For women, I see this as you finally receiving clarity from a SP. This is someone you know to already have an interest but it is possible you were being given mixed messages.

2025, 2nd half:

The main theme of the second half of 2025 has to do with either you or a specific person. The theme is showing affection and attention to the one you like. So just take what applies. I feel that any confusion you may have had about a SP were cleared the moment you made the mental decision to stop hiding your own feelings from yourself. I'm seeing the energy of someone writing a message, pressing send, throwing away the phone and hiding under the covers. Then overthinking...well it's all in your head. Remember who the fuck you are in the second half of the year. Remind yourself that anything meant for you will make its way to you with ease. I see also for anyone not in this headspace, that you are focused on yourself. You are focused on treating yourself to whatever you want. You suddenly feel you haven't been socialising enough, and suddenly you have parties booked a few times a month. For the sexual beings, I see you getting yours in the second half of 2025. I see one-night stands, friends with benefits or anything that you like engaging in sexually being done wantonly. I see this self-focus on filling your own cup with dreams pr creativity bringing you immense peace. For those pursuing a SP, your success with this individual will bring you greater peace. Isn't that delicious?

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎

Hello Pile 2:

Please remember that this is a collective reading so only take what feels intuitively to be your message. Thank you.

2025, 1st half:

The main theme for the first half of 2025 is going to be money/business success. I feel that some of you have fully come into adulthood. I'm getting the feeling of 'my brain just fully developed'. The energy of this pile is that of someone who balances their maturity with their inner child needs. I see possibly a new job or a new business venture which came up as well for the previous pile. This new start can cause some confusion or introspection depending on the individual. I sense that you are scared of new beginnings or are used to doing things one sort of way but life has ushered you upon a new path. I see that the answers are within you, but you are too frightened to fully stand in your power and go, 'yes, I knew the last job was literally sucking my soul so it's okay that I have to pivot'. The key to happiness and business success for you is through following your passions. I know, how cliche. Yet you never know how a random talent or hyper-fixation can lead to something real and tangible. Pile 2, I see you moving on from previous heartbreak. You are burying and leaving behind painful memories of love and instead replacing it with passion, creativity and who knows...maybe new love.

2025, 2nd half:

The similarities in the actual cards I drew, is almost an exact replica with pile 1 so you may also relate to that pile. The main theme of the second half of your 2025 is all about renewal. Like a butterfly birthed from a cocoon I see you rise with fervour. You are focused and grinding. You are going so hard for yourself and achieving your dreams. You are being daring about things you've always wanted to try. I see you challenging yourself with hobbies, with thrill seeking activities. I see you achieving professional success and being in the spotlight for those achievements. Embrace it, soak it up. It is meant to be, let this be all the validation you need. There is a couple or two individuals who are aware of their spiritual connection to each other in this pile. You may have been on a break, or travelling or apart for some (necessary) reasons. You will get a sign sometime in this part of the year to connect with this person. So one of you will be reaching out via DM or however you both prefer your communications. I see a masculine in this pile in particular being very vocal about insecurities to do with work/business. I feel that this could be a masculine leaning on his mother through this time period. Just do whatever you need to to process your very valid fears then let it go. I recommend a burning ritual if this applies to you. This doesn't have to be a male person but whoever identifies with coming across at this stage of their lives in a masculine way. I see as a result of these conversations, you will make a decision on how to proceed and take appropriate action toward your new beginning.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎

Hello Pile 3:

Please remember that this is a collective reading so only take what feels intuitively to be your message. Thank you.

2025, 1st half:

The main theme of the first half of you 2025 surrounds you being unsure how to proceed with a particular situation. I see a masculine energy or that of a person who is charming charismatic and self-assured, being defensive and on guard with their heart after realising that they've the love of their life. We always imagine that getting what we want we will immediately accept and embrace it. Instead Pile 3, you meet someone you like and you immediately acknowledge how unique and how distinct the feeling they give you is but you are so determined to ignore it or tell yourself there is something else at play here. Now that I am starting to interpret, I am seeing now that this lack of certainty from you pile 3 could be coming from how unbelievable it is to you to find someone you so strongly want to attach to and immediately want to drag down the isle, lovingly of course. You feel both lucky and scared that this little bit of luck might run away. For some of you I feel that you were already on a lucky streak and have now hit the motherload. I'll be honest and say though this person is the main focus mentally and emotionally, it will not be long between you realising that they mean that much to you and that your attraction for this SP is different, to you making an honest offer. For those already in union, your story looks a little bit different. For those in union, I am seeing an unmarried couple with the man in the planning phase of engagement. You will know if this is you because the masculine in the couple is strong, sexy and self-assured. He also may have been recently defensive about how much he is working. This is because he knows you want a surprise, he knows what you want in a proposal and he is gonna make it happen. The heavens are literally opening up to help you make this deeper commitment come together. Any couples with a wedding date in this half of the year in Pile 3, I see a great wedding and a true realisation that you have done the right thing by being with this person. Any couples already married, you could simply be deepening the bonds of your love. I see this through some sort of recitation of affections or something ceremonial (whatever that means to you)

2025, 2nd half:

The main theme of the second half of your 2025 is health. You may be having some secrets unearthed from your childhood that opens a can of worms for you to now digest. For some of you, you simple know that you have leaned too long into your naivete and have decided to finally do something to facilitate your growth and maturity. This pile is giving growth. With this new journey to explore the depths of yourself, comes gossip. There comes talks and speculation about how you are making so much money. How are you acquiring so many assets or how are you never seeming to struggle financially? Then the chatter goes into your sex life. There could be rumours you are sleeping around for money or you are being particularly sexually free at this time. This may or may not be an accurate representation of what you are doing, but that matters not. You are not defined by people who are not taking the time to know you but instead, speculating like you are spectator sport. If you are being at all promiscuous then please be aware that this can cause more burden or a different sort of trauma to unpack at a later date. By interacting with so many people, you are opening yourself up to microscopic tears to your psyche that will need to be repaired. I see you receiving messages from a SP. The feminine in question is coming through as a confident, sexy and ambitious woman. The man is coming through as ambitious, powerful and sexy. This is not necessarily gender specific so you could be the woman with the qualities of the man I see in this reading. It's not something to get hung up on. There is a sense that you are both defending what you have to the outside world while also drowning in the passion that you clearly have for each other. You're both drowning, willingly.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎

Hello Pile 4:

Please remember that this is a collective reading so only take what feels intuitively to be your message. Thank you.

2025, 1st half:

The main theme for the first half of your 2025 is gossip and or chatter. Yet despite that being the main theme, the clarifying cards also show me a different secondary main theme which is of material comfortability. The reading has more pentacle cards than anything signalling money and resources, tangible or physical. You are coming through Pile 4 as a confident, successful single. If you are not single, you are certainly someone who feels whole and complete within themselves. This is not at the expense of another, but just an expression of the work you have done on yourself up until now. I feel the need to say Pile 4, you should be so proud of yourself for everything that you've achieved. You. Did. That. I see you being generous with you resources, but also vigilant. I see you making your younger self proud by being able to facilitate your desires materially. You have worked your way into a lucrative job or if not, you have lived a lifestyle well beyond your means and gotten comfortable with watching your savings beef up. If you need a massage you just get it, kinda energy. You don't think well, is there enough in my account, because you are either so financially responsible you know the ins and outs of your funds, or you're not pedantic but you allocate enough funds for everything you need. You run like clockwork even if it's something that you didn't always do. You have gotten to a place where you know which buttons to trigger within to achieve anything you need for different aspects of your life. You are coming across as untouchable, Pile 4. Your aura is extremely attractive right now and you could not look more delectable. You may be giving or receiving an offer of affections. This could be platonic or romantic but I feel for more of you it is romantic than platonic. Though you may have to take a second to think about it, you will consider yourself lucky in this opportunity and take it. You and your new love are happy and materially comfortable, together.

2025, 2nd half:

The main theme for the second half of your 2025 is grief/burdens. Some of the people in this pile, I see you travelling to pursue a new beginning. This could be anywhere to a new country/state. For some you are moving your whole life elsewhere while others you simply have not travelled enough and are off to make this dream a reality. There's something public about your trip. You could be documenting it or you may be very vocal about any struggles you may experience along the way. Struggles with money or logistics. Through the hardship though that you may experience along the way, you find yourself. For some you are finding yourself again, deeper aspects of your iceberg beneath the surface. You find your own resilience and you are enchanted by it. You may at times punish yourself or self sabotage. You might spend too much on ubereats instead of saving or using sex as a distraction from your life. So long as you are being mindful and checking yourself when you feel those escapist tendencies coming through, you should be fine. A lot the changes you are going through at this time are fated. I see you going on a long journey of self-discovery, especially surrounding betrayals from others or from yourself. Allow yourself to grieve. Allow yourself to go through this period in a messy way because it's through the chaos that greater clarity will come through. It's through the inner conflict that you find that flickering ember of light.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎

Hello Pile 5:

Please remember that this is a collective reading so only take what feels intuitively to be your message. Thank you.

2025, 1st half:

The main theme of your reading for the first half of 2025 is parents/authority figures. I feel that in this pile someone feels that they have been betrayed or duped by a parental or authority figure. Well I am here to tell you that the instant-karma they are about to receive will make you smile a little on the inside. I see you receiving a message likely through messages/online that this individual in question has been punished. Now this could look different for different people but for some of you I sense jail. Others more like a streak of bad luck or losing something important. I see a couple represented as masculine and feminine but these are energies not actual sexes. Both thinking, separately about their shared future. It's like people who are already seeing each other starting to daydream that they can really make it work. Or this could be friends who are starting to fall for each other. Well, aren't you lucky Pile 5 for the one you want not only wants you, but you are ordained to be together. You will receive the true happiness you have longed for. You forge forward you two lovebirds, leave the dust (parent/authority figure) behind as you hold each other shamelessly into the future.

2025, 2nd half:

The main theme for the second half of your 2025 is that of sexual tension/sexual exploration and for some of you just mental self-flagellation. You take whichever sounds like it resonates. Pile 5, you are becoming more and more self actualised as time goes on. In the second half of the year, you are feeling even more so that you are understanding yourself more and therefore better able to reach your highest potential. You know you are a star, you know you are destined for greatness and you know you have the will to achieve it. You have the tenacity, the staying power and the patience. You may receive heartbreaking news of betrayal in the second half of the year. For some of you this is because the person you were with has been unfaithful in some way (could be cheating or lying or anyway which counts within your own value system). For some this news was so obscure because there was some deceptive energy from the source. Once you speak to your partner, you unearth and realise that it's not your partner that is the problem, but elements outside of your relationship that are trying to cause you confusion and evidently a breakup. Whichever group you belong, I see this being something you will conquer and overcome through your self confidence. Sometimes the best way out is through. I see you refocusing on your foals, creativity, sexuality and therefore returning yourself back to a state of true happiness. You realise that as long as you have yourself and your dreams, everything else is inconsequential.

@cosmicspark24

#cosmicspark #tarot #pick a card #pac reading #lenormand #oracle

24 notes · View notes

rius-cave · 7 hours ago

Note

Just asking this because I’ve been pretty confused over the matter for a while now and wonder your opinion.

Do you think that Stolas got off with his cheating too easily? Or that the show tries to justify it because it was gay and Stella was abusive?

And also, do you think that Stolas actually cared for Octavia?

In my case I’m incredibly mixed.

Depends what you mean with "got off easily"

I don't think Stolas is getting off easy with anything at the moment LOLOL the boy is REALLY going through it right now. It's not a DIRECT consequence of the CHEATING per se, but it's about the whole thing he did.

If you mean how the show doesn't morally reprehend him for it, then that's true, but here's the thing. The cheating part of the equation, in the context of Stolas' and Stella's relationship, is not actually as relevant for either party as you'd initially think. Stolas and Stella BARELY had a marriage before that, Stella doesn't love Stolas and Stolas doesn't love Stella and I think they both super knew that from the very beginning. Stolas himself says (and I think we can trust his word here) that he'd feel bad if he had hurt Stella, but that's not the case. Stella doesn't actually give a shit that Stolas slept with another person, her issue with the whole thing is that it was an IMP and it's a disgrace for the goetia or whatever.

Now, there was definitely a better way to go about it than to cheat on Stella in the heat of the moment, but there was no connection between them, there never was. The only reason the divorce didn't happen earlier was because Octavia was there and they both felt a duty towards the goetia.

Ultimately, whether cheating is okay or not (it's not) it's literally not relevant for any of them, not even Stella. They only talk about it to make Stella seem like the victim of the situation and allow her to get away with what she's doing.

As for Octavia, there isn't an ounce of doubt in my mind that Stolas cares about Octavia, but he is a very, very, very flawed parent. Stolas doesn't listen to her and is too caught up in his own depression and unhappiness to properly see that. It's a complicated issue because Stolas is also trying to pursue his own happiness, which is a good thing! But he's stumbling through it and hurting his own daughter in the process because he doesn't know how to communicate properly. How could he? Paimon didn't exactly teach him how a good dad acts lol. He's a lot better than Paimon in so many ways, but he's still repeating some of the behaviors he saw. So yes, he cares about her, he's just a clumsy dad.

#helluva boss #ask

30 notes · View notes

monkishes · 2 days ago

Text

Friendly Fire | 02

genre: jungkookxreader, jiminxreader, college!au, best friend!au

summary: You and Jungkook had been friends for quite some time, and it seemed like everyone around you could sense the spark between you. They noticed the playful banter and affectionate gazes he directed your way. However, you were completely oblivious to it all, thinking that your relationship with Jungkook was purely platonic. Little did you know, things were about to get complicated. Enter Jimin, who developed a crush on you. This unexpected turn of events stirred up some jealousy in Jungkook. What will happen next?

word count: 6518

warnings: lots of jealousy, jk is oblivious to his feelings but very flirtatious, can’t keep his hands to himself, exams😖, oc has a fear of failing, strict parents

authors notes: okay this took me foreverrrrr and i really need to start writing the other fics but im just so excited for this one.. hope y’all enjoyyyyyy. this was unedited and kind of rushed so ignore any errors, i hate skl so much its taking up most of my time sorry guys

series masterlist / previous / next

Jungkook drummed his fingers against the steering wheel as he watched you disappear into your apartment. He let out a long sigh, shifting in his seat. Something about the whole night had left him feeling off. It wasn't that he liked you—he didn't. You were just Y/N, his friend. But still, the thought of you getting all flustered around Jimin, of Jimin flirting with you, had irritated him more than he'd expected.

He turned the key in the ignition, the quiet hum of the engine filling the car as he pulled away from your building and headed toward his place. His mind kept drifting back to the way Jimin had teased him, how he'd made it seem like Jungkook had some claim over you. That wasn't it. He didn't care if you dated someone, it wasn't his business. But someone like Jimin? One of his closest friends? That was a different story.

Jungkook wasn't protective over you in the romantic sense, but there was a boundary there, unspoken but important. He didn't want his friends getting involved with you. It wasn't jealousy—it was more like... discomfort. He would never get involved with any of your friends. He knew Jimin could be flirty, and the last thing Jungkook wanted was for things to get messy between you and his circle.

As he drove through the quiet streets, the city lights flickering past, he tried to shake off the feeling. You'd probably think he was being ridiculous if you knew how much he'd overthought the whole thing. But you were his friend—he just wanted to make sure you weren't getting mixed up in something that would hurt you later.

By the time he pulled up in front of his apartment, the tension in his chest had eased slightly. He parked, leaned back in his seat for a moment, and stared out at the dimly lit street. His phone buzzed in the center console, and he picked it up, glancing at the screen.

Jimin.

Jungkook rolled his eyes but smirked a little, knowing exactly what the call was going to be about. He hit answer and put the phone on speaker as he stepped out of the car.

"Hey, man," Jimin's voice came through, casual but with that familiar teasing edge. "Did you drop off our girl safely?"

Jungkook kicked the door shut and walked toward his building, shaking his head. "She's not our girl. And yeah, I did."

There was a pause, then a laugh from Jimin's side. "Come on, don't tell me you're still pissed about earlier. I was just messing around."

Jungkook sighed as he unlocked his apartment door and stepped inside, flicking on the lights. "I'm not pissed. Just—" He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. "I don't want you messing with her."

"Messing with her?" Jimin repeated, sounding amused. "Dude, I wasn't even serious. Y/N's cool, but I know you're protective of her."

"I'm not protective," Jungkook said quickly, dropping his keys onto the kitchen counter. "It's just... she's my friend. I don't want her getting involved with any of you guys and then having things go south."

Jimin chuckled, clearly not taking it as seriously as Jungkook. "Man, you're making it sound like I'm planning to date her or something. I was just having a little fun."

Jungkook frowned, leaning against the counter. "Yeah, well, I don't want her to get the wrong idea. She doesn't know you like I do. You flirt with everyone, and she might take it seriously."

There was a beat of silence before Jimin responded, his tone a bit more thoughtful now. "So what, you're saying she's off-limits?"

Jungkook let out a frustrated breath, trying to find the right words. "I'm not saying she's off-limits, I'm just saying... she's not like other girls you flirt with. She's—she's Y/N, okay? She's not into that kind of stuff."

"You sound like you're her big brother or something," Jimin teased, though his tone was more serious now. "Look, I get it. You're looking out for her. But, Jungkook, if you don't have feelings for her, why do you care so much if she ends up liking one of us?"

Jungkook froze for a second, caught off guard by the question. He hadn't really thought about it that way before. It wasn't like he had feelings for you, but the idea of you dating one of his friends—especially Jimin—just didn't sit right with him.

"I don't care if she dates someone," Jungkook said finally, his voice a bit tighter than he intended. "I just don't want her to get hurt."

Jimin was quiet for a moment, then sighed. "Okay, okay, I get it. I'll back off. I didn't realize you were this serious about it."

Jungkook relaxed a little, relieved that Jimin was taking him seriously now. "Thanks, man. I just don't want things to get weird."

"Fair enough," Jimin agreed. "But you might want to figure out why you care so much, 'cause from where I'm sitting, it's looking a little sus."

Jungkook scoffed, rolling his eyes even though Jimin couldn't see him. "There's nothing sus about it. I just don't want things to get complicated."

"Whatever you say, bro," Jimin replied, clearly not convinced but willing to let it go for now. "Anyway, I'll catch you later. Try not to overthink it too much, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," Jungkook muttered, ending the call and tossing his phone onto the couch.

As he sat down, the conversation played over in his mind. He wasn't overthinking it—he was just being a good friend. Looking out for you. That's all it was.

Jungkook stretched out on his bed, tossing his phone back and forth between his hands, his mind finally starting to quiet down.

His phone buzzed, and he saw your name pop up on the screen. Smiling, he answered, putting it on speaker as he lay back on his pillows.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice casual.

"Hey, Jeon," you replied, sounding a little tired but upbeat. "You home?"

"Yeah, just got back a bit ago. You?"

"Yup, finally in bed," you said with a sigh. "You think Professor Kim is really gonna hit us with that pop quiz tomorrow? I saw him smiling way too much in class today. Suspicious."

Jungkook chuckled, shaking his head. "He's definitely planning something. That guy enjoys watching us struggle."

You groaned dramatically. "Ugh, I'm so not prepared for that. I barely understood anything from last week's lecture."

"Did you even take notes?" Jungkook teased, knowing full well you tended to zone out in class.

"I did! Sort of...," you trailed off, and he could practically see you rolling your eyes. "I'll just copy yours tomorrow. You've got me, right?"

Jungkook laughed softly, the familiar ease of your conversations calming him down. "Yeah, yeah. I've got you. You always say that and then somehow ace the test anyway."

"Not without your help," you mumbled, and Jungkook could hear you settling deeper into your blankets, your voice getting softer.

"Anyways, you're coming to watch me play tomorrow right?" he perks up, trying to lighten the mood.

"There's no way I'd miss it."

He laughs, suddenly feeling giddy at the prospect of you coming to watch him. "Good, if you didn't come I would be sooo mad at you."

You giggle softly at that idea, Jungkook never gets mad, at least not at you. "Yeah, okay Kook." you teased, but your voice was trailing off, your exhaustion suddenly taking over.

Jungkook notices this, a soft smile playing on his face. "Alright, go to sleep. You're gonna need energy for that test tomorrow."

"Ugh, don't remind me," you mumbled, already half asleep. "Night, Jungkook."

"Night," he replied, waiting until he heard the soft click of the call ending before tossing his phone onto the bed beside him.

The next day, you and Jungkook found yourselves sitting in your usual spots near the back of the classroom, waiting for Professor Kim to start class. The room was buzzing with chatter, students exchanging notes and nervously talking about the possibility of a quiz. You were slouched over your notebook, flipping through pages, trying to cram in last-minute review, while Jungkook sat beside you, far too relaxed for your liking.

"You think we're actually getting that quiz?" you whispered, glancing over at him.

Jungkook smirked, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. "Oh, it's not just a quiz," he said, his voice low so only you could hear. "It's a full-on test. I saw him carrying in a stack of papers when I came in."

You groaned, dropping your head dramatically onto your notebook. "I'm so screwed."

Jungkook chuckled, nudging your arm with his elbow. "You should've studied with me."

"Don't even," you muttered, lifting your head just as Professor Kim walked in, shuffling the dreaded stack of test papers in his hands. Your stomach dropped.

"Good morning, class," Professor Kim announced with a suspiciously cheerful tone. "I hope you're all ready for today's test."

You glanced at Jungkook, who gave you a smug look, as if to say I told you so. You shot him a glare in return.

As Professor Kim passed out the tests, Jungkook leaned over slightly. "Just stay calm, Y/N. You'll be fine."

"I'll be calm when this is over," you whispered back, staring at the paper in front of you like it was a death sentence.

The room soon fell silent, except for the occasional shuffling of papers and the soft scratching of pens. You took a deep breath, flipping through the pages of the test, immediately feeling the pressure mount. The first few questions were doable, but by the time you hit the midpoint, it was like the words on the page were written in a foreign language.

You glanced over at Jungkook. He was scribbling away confidently, barely pausing as he moved through the questions with ease. Of course, he looked completely unbothered, like this was just another walk in the park. You could even see the faintest smirk playing on his lips.

Your eyes narrowed, and he must have felt your gaze because he glanced over at you, raising an eyebrow. When he saw the look of panic on your face, his smirk widened, and he gave a subtle shake of his head, clearly amused by your struggle.

You mouthed, "Help me!" exaggerating your expression for effect.

Jungkook chuckled softly, shaking his head again. He leaned slightly closer and whispered under his breath, "Just focus."

You rolled your eyes, going back to your test. But focusing was the last thing you could do. Every time you got stuck on a question, you'd glance over at Jungkook again, and every time, he was still breezing through the test, like he was taking a casual quiz and not a full-blown assessment. It was infuriating.

After a few minutes of watching you squirm, Jungkook finally tilted his paper just slightly, making sure only you could see the edge of it. It wasn't enough to give away the answers, but it was enough to show you the format, which was a tiny bit helpful.

You caught on immediately, shooting him a grateful look. He just winked at you, clearly enjoying the situation way too much.

The rest of the test dragged on painfully, and by the time you reached the last page, your brain felt like mush. Meanwhile, Jungkook had already finished and was lounging back in his chair, stretching lazily as if the test had been no big deal. He shot you another amused glance, raising an eyebrow as if to say, See? Easy.

You were dying to toss something at him.

Finally, Professor Kim called time, and you let out a long breath as you handed in your test. Jungkook was waiting for you at the door, his hands shoved into his pockets, an infuriating grin on his face.

"So," he said casually as you walked out of the classroom together, "how was it?"

You shot him a look. "You're enjoying this way too much."

He chuckled, nudging your shoulder lightly. "Hey, you're the one who didn't study."

"I was going to, but you didn't exactly offer to help," you shot back, still frustrated by how easy it had been for him.

"I told you to stay calm," he said with a playful grin, clearly unfazed by your annoyance.

You groaned again, but even you couldn't stay mad at him for long. It was classic Jungkook—breezing through everything with a smile on his face while you struggled just to keep up. And despite yourself, you couldn't help but laugh a little as the two of you walked down the hallway together.

"Next time, you're helping me study," you declared, glancing up at him.

"Deal," he said, his grin widening. "But only if you promise to take better notes."

You laughed, shaking your head. "I'm starting to think you enjoy watching me suffer."

"Maybe just a little," he teased, his eyes glinting with amusement.

As you and Jungkook made your way down the hall, the usual buzz of campus life surrounded you. Students were rushing between classes, chatting in groups, or buried in their phones, but you were still thinking about the test you'd just barely survived.

Jungkook, of course, was in a good mood, walking beside you with that annoyingly smug look on his face. Just as you were about to tease him about how much he was enjoying your misery, a familiar voice called out.

"Yo, Jungkook! Y/N!" Taehyung appeared, striding toward the two of you, his usual carefree grin plastered on his face. Jimin was right behind him, looking effortlessly cool as always.

"Hey," Jungkook greeted them, stopping in his tracks as they reached you. "What's up?"

Taehyung grinned, leaning against the lockers. "Just heading to class, but I saw you two and figured we'd say hi."

Jimin's eyes landed on you, his gaze lingering for a second longer than usual. He smiled warmly. "Hey, Y/N," he said, his voice smooth. "Heard you had a test, how'd it go?

You sighed dramatically, already feeling the weight of your grade pulling you down. "Oh, it was awful. I know I failed."

Jimin chuckled, stepping a little closer. "Really? I can't imagine you struggling with anything. You probably did better than you think."

You blinked, caught off guard by his words. Jimin was always friendly, but today there was a slight edge to it, something more than the usual casual banter. His eyes flicked to Jungkook briefly before landing back on you.

"I doubt it," you laughed, feeling a little flustered by the compliment. "But thanks for the confidence boost."

Jimin smirked, his eyes still locked on you. "Anytime."

Just then, Taehyung clapped Jungkook on the shoulder. "We're heading to the art building. Where are you guys off to?"

"I'm going to bio," you said, glancing at your phone to check the time. "It's across campus, though."

"I can walk you—" Jungkook starts, your gaze shifting towards him, but he immediately gets interrupted by Jimin's voice.

Jimin perked up, a slight glint of interest in his eyes. "Really? I'm heading that way too. I can walk with you, if you want."

You smiled, appreciating the offer. "Yeah, that'd be nice."

Before you could say anything else, Jungkook, who had been watching the whole exchange, nodded. "Alright, then. You guys go ahead," he said, his tone relaxed. "I'll catch you later, Y/N."

His easygoing attitude surprised you, but you figured he was just in a good mood after breezing through the test. He turned to Taehyung, and the two of them started walking in the opposite direction.

"Bye, Jungkook!" you called, waving after him. He shot you a quick wave without looking back, too busy joking around with Taehyung.

Jimin gave you a nod, gesturing for you to lead the way. "Shall we?"

You began walking at a comfortable pace, a comfortable silence settling down amongst the both of you. Or at least, you didn't mind the silence.

You could feel him glancing towards your face every so often, and when you turned to look, he just smiled innocently, turning his gaze straight ahead.

The silence started to grow awkward, until Jimin cleared his throat, as if preparing to bring up something he'd been thinking about for a while. "So.." he began, "Do you like Jungkook?"

Laughing at the absurdity of that idea, you meet his eyes once more, "What?" you said, your voice still laced with laughter. "No way, Jungkook's just a friend. Why would you ask that?"

Jimin smiled but didn't meet your eyes this time, running a hand through his hair, making him seem both casual but also nervous. "I don't know," he shrugged, he voice growing quieter. "It seems like he has a little crush on you. The way he looks at you, how he's always around you.."

You blinked, the idea catching you completely off guard. "No, me and him are just friends. He's like that with everyone." you replied, shaking your head firmly.

Jimin gave you a knowing smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Is he, though?" his tone was playful, but you suddenly grew irritated. You were sick of people assuming that someone had a crush on the other, or you were dating, when it was clearly not the case.

"He's like a brother to me, Jimin."

He chuckled, his gaze finally locking onto yours, his smile widening as he tilted his head. "A brother, huh?" he questions, never taking his eyes off you.

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you pick up the pace, leaving Jimin a little further behind.

He immediately picks up his pace too, catching back up to you. "Hey, relax, I'll drop it." his hand rests on your shoulder as his playful tone from earlier drops, his voice now laced with sincerity. "I was just joking, Y/N. I didn't mean to offend you."

"I know. I'm not offended." you mumble, trying to appear as unbothered as you can, your hands reaching to fumble with the straps of your bag.

"Okay," his hand drops from your shoulder, resting at his side once again. "Besides, even if Jungkook has a crush, it's not like you don't have other options." He finishes, quite obviously referring to himself.

You laughed again, the annoyance fading away ever so slightly. "I'll keep that in mind, Jimin. But for now I'm happy with being just friends."

He smirked, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "Fair enough. But if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me."

Bio dragged on at a painfully slow pace. The steady tick of the clock became your only focus, each second pulling your attention away from the jumble of textbooks and papers spread across your desk. The classroom was unusually quiet today, so every sound created was amplified; the tapping and clicking of pens, the rustling of sheets of papers, the occasional murmur of whispered conversations.

Your leg bounced restlessly beneath the table, anxiety suddenly overcoming you. Not only were you struggling in chemistry, you were struggling in biology too. Your eyes wandered to the people in the class, who got on with their tasks with ease. Even with a textbook open in front of you, you were confused.

You sighed inwardly, frustration settling in. There's no one else to blame but yourself, of course. After all the times you zoned out in class, and never payed attention, how could you even expect to understand the basics? The realisation hit you like a wave, a reminder that when you go home, you'd have no choice but to study.

Eventually, the hour passed after a long time of blankly staring at the ticking clock. You immediately grabbed a hold of your belongings, stuffing them into your bag and throwing it over your shoulder before exiting the room. You let out a sigh, a yawn escaping your body. Right now, all you wanted to do was take a nap. Luckily for you, it was the end of the day, you could finally leave.

You suddenly felt nauseous, a sickening feeling bubbling within your stomach as you remembered how much you struggled in not one but two classes. The image of your parents disappointment haunted you as you stormed into your locker, yanking it open and tossing your books inside with more force than necessary. You slammed it shut, your frustration rising.

As you did so, Jungkook appeared out of nowhere to the right of your locker, his eyes fixated on you with scrunched up brows.

You sighed again, glancing once towards his face and again towards the exit. Your legs dragged you towards the huge doors, but Jungkook was quick to follow behind you.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" he walks up in front of you, gesturing towards his clothing. You noticed his attire from the morning was discarded, and instead replaced with the jersey he wore during his basketball games.

"Fuck, Kook, I completely forgot." you groaned, gripping your temples in frustration.

"Damn, Y/N. I reminded you everyday for the past week." His tone was serious, but you could catch the hint of a joke laced within his voice as he playfully shook his head.

It didn't take him long to notice your unusual state. Jungkook leaned forward, softly grabbing onto your shoulder with one hand while the other reached up to your cheek, gently rubbing his thumb across. "Whats wrong? You okay?" he asks, concern laced across his features.

"Nothing, I'm just tired." you admitted, although it wasn't the whole truth, it was still something.

His eyes look over your face, studying you. His hands now firmly rested on your shoulders. "You're a bad liar, Y/N. What happened? And tell me the truth."

"It's dumb."

"It's about that test, isn't it?"

You blinked in surprise. How did he know? You nodded.

"I'm sure you didn't do that bad," he reassured, squeezing your shoulders gently. "You're smart, Y/N. Cheer up." he playfully patted your cheeks, causing you to stifle a laugh, a smile forming on your face.

"Do you wanna go home?" he asked, his voice softening, a slight frown tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Well yes, but I wanna watch you play more." you say as his hands tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You noticed his expression brighten just a little at your words.

He grinned, moving to the side and ruffling your hair, messing it up again before then slinging an arm over your shoulder. "Come on then, we don't have much time," he says. "I'll win for you, don't worry."

You round the corner and make your way onto the court, where people are already seated and the teams are coming out of their rooms.

"JK, we're on, hurry up!" a voice calls, presumably another one of his members, he lets go of you and tells you to take a seat before running off into the court, but you don't miss how he looks towards you whenever he can, sending a smile your way, as if to make sure you were okay.

The game was intense from the start. The gym echoed with the sounds of sneakers squeaking against polished floors, the thud of the basketball hitting the court, and the excited cheers from the crowd. You sat in the bleachers, your bag shoved under your seat, feeling oddly at ease despite the earlier stress.

You found yourself sitting next to a girl who had been at the game last week, her face vaguely familiar. She wore a jersey that wasn't quite Jungkook's team colors, but she cheered loudly every time the ball changed hands.

"Hey, didn't I see you here last time?" she asked, leaning over slightly to talk. Her voice was warm, friendly, like someone who just knew how to make conversations less awkward.

"Yeah, probably," you said with a small smile, glancing at her. "I try to come to most of Jungkook's games."

"Ah, you're here for JK?" Her eyebrows raised, and there was a playful lilt to her voice. "Friend, girlfriend, or just a fan?"

"Friend," you clarified, though the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed the simplicity of that label.

She laughed, a soft chuckle that wasn't mocking but understanding. "Got it. I'm Soojin, by the way. I come to watch my cousin—he's on the other team, but don't tell anyone." She mimed zipping her lips.

You laughed a little at that. "I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you."

As the game went on, you and Soojin fell into a comfortable rhythm of conversation, punctuated by bursts of cheering and groaning whenever something exciting happened on the court. She was quick-witted and easy to talk to, and for the first time all day, you felt yourself genuinely relaxing.

"Okay, but Jungkook's insane, right?" Soojin said during a timeout, gesturing toward the court where Jungkook was wiping his face with a towel. "The way he just—" she mimicked a crossover dribble and a jump shot, "makes it look so effortless. Honestly, I'd trip over my own feet trying to do half of that."

You laughed, nodding. "Yeah, he's pretty crazy. He's been like that since we met, though. He's good at everything... it's honestly annoying sometimes."

Soojin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "You guys must be close, huh? That's cute. So, what's it like having Jeon Jungkook as your personal hype man?"

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't stop the small smile from forming. "It's chaotic, to say the least. He's super competitive, even outside of basketball. One time, we had this dumb bet over who could eat more tteokbokki, and—"

"Wait, let me guess," Soojin interrupted, grinning. "He demolished you, didn't he?"

You shook your head, laughing. "Nope. He thought he could out-eat me, but I totally won. He ended up lying on the floor groaning about how he was 'never eating again.'"

Soojin laughed so hard she nearly spilled her drink. "That's amazing. He doesn't seem like the type to lose, especially at something like that."

"Oh, trust me," you said, leaning in conspiratorially. "He's not. He demanded a rematch a week later. Still lost, though."

The two of you dissolved into laughter, the tension of your earlier frustration completely forgotten. You were so caught up in the moment that you almost didn't notice when the crowd suddenly erupted into cheers.

The score was neck-and-neck, and every pass, dribble, and shot was met with thunderous applause or groans of disappointment. You found yourself leaning forward, completely absorbed in the game despite your earlier indifference.

With less than a minute left on the clock, Jungkook's team had the ball. The crowd was on its feet, chanting and clapping as he darted past defenders with effortless precision. You held your breath as he leapt for a three-pointer just as the buzzer sounded.

The ball arced beautifully through the air before sinking through the net with a satisfying swish. The gym erupted into cheers, the sound deafening as Jungkook's teammates swarmed him in celebration. He raised his arms in victory, then turned toward the stands, his eyes locking onto yours. He didn't just smile this time—he winked.

"Oh my god," Soojin said, clutching her chest dramatically. "That was smooth. I'm swooning, and it wasn't even aimed at me. Are you sure you're just friends? Because the way he keeps looking at you..."

You shook your head, laughing but feeling that familiar warmth creep up your neck again. "He's so extra sometimes."

"Extra? Girl, that was a whole movie moment," Soojin countered. "You should be flattered."

At that moment, Jungkook jogged over to the sidelines, drenched in sweat but beaming with pride. He waved at you as he approached, clearly pleased with himself.

"Well? What'd you think?" he asked, leaning on the railing in front of the bleachers.

"You were decent," you said, trying to sound unimpressed.

"Decent?" he repeated, his eyes narrowing in mock offense. "That was a game-winning three-pointer. You should be bowing down right now."

"Don't push your luck, Kook," you teased, though your grin gave you away.

"You did okay," Soojin chimed in, smirking. "But I think Y/N's still more impressed by the tteokbokki story."

Jungkook frowned, his ears turning slightly pink. "You told her about that?"

"Of course," you said, laughing. "It's one of my best Jungkook stories."

He groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Great. Now she thinks I'm a loser."

"Not at all," Soojin said, winking at you. "It's kind of endearing, actually."

Jungkook peeked through his fingers, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the two of you. "Y/N, let's go before you embarrass me further."

You laughed, grabbing your bag and standing up. "Fine, fine. See you around, Soojin."

"Definitely," she said, giving you a knowing smile. "Oh, and Jungkook?"

"Yeah?" he said, pausing mid-step.

"Good game," she said, grinning. "But maybe work on that tteokbokki endurance."

Jungkook groaned again, dragging you toward the exit as you burst into laughter.

The cool evening air hit your face as you both left the gym, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the crowded court. Jungkook still looked a little flustered, though he tried to play it cool, brushing a hand through his damp hair.

"I can't believe you told her about the tteokbokki thing," he muttered, shaking his head.

You smirked, bumping his arm lightly. "Oh, come on, it's a great story. Besides, you challenged me. What did you expect? For me to lose gracefully?"

"Gracefully? I expected you to lose, period," he quipped, shooting you a playful glare. "But apparently, you're hiding a black hole for a stomach. It's unfair."

He grumbled, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward in a reluctant smile. "Anyway, who was she? You seemed pretty chummy with her for someone you just met."

"Her name's Soojin. She's here to watch her cousin—apparently, he's on the other team. She's nice, though. Funny, too."

Jungkook shot you a look, his brows furrowing. "Wait, hold on. You were sitting next to someone rooting for the other team? And you didn't fight her?"

You snorted. "What am I supposed to do? Start a bleacher brawl? She wasn't obnoxious or anything. Plus, she said you're good. So, technically, she's on your side."

"She said that?" Jungkook perked up, his chest puffing out a little. "Well, I mean, she's not wrong."

You rolled your eyes. "Don't let it go to your head, Jeon."

The two of you strolled toward the bike racks, where Jungkook had locked up his old, slightly scuffed-up mountain bike. He grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder, then paused, looking at you thoughtfully.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked, his voice gentler now. "You seemed a little off earlier. Was it the test?"

The concern in his eyes made your stomach flip, and you hesitated for a moment before shrugging. "Yeah, the test sucked, and so did bio. I'll survive, though. No big deal."

Jungkook frowned, clearly not buying it. "Y/N, if it's stressing you out, let's do something about it. I'm serious."

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. "What, you're going to tutor me? You don't even know the difference between mitosis and meiosis."

"Hey," he protested, feigning offense. "I could learn! For you, anyway." He tilted his head, studying your face. "But right now, I'm thinking food might help more than biology. You eaten yet?"

Your stomach growled in response, betraying you instantly. Jungkook's grin widened.

"Thought so," he said. "Come on, let's go get something."

"Now? Aren't you supposed to celebrate with your team or something?"

"Celebrate what? Another win? Boring," he said, waving it off. "Besides, I'd rather hang out with you. Let's go."

Before you could argue, he unlocked his bike and gestured for you to hop onto the back. "I'll give you a ride."

"You're kidding," you said, eyeing the bike skeptically.

"Do I look like I'm kidding? Come on, I've done this a million times."

Reluctantly, you climbed onto the back, holding onto his shoulders for balance. "If I fall and break something, I'm suing you."

Jungkook laughed, his voice full of mischief. "Relax. I'm a pro."

Minutes later, you found yourself seated at a small street food stand, the warm glow of hanging lights illuminating the bustling night market. The smell of grilled meat, savory pancakes, and spicy tteokbokki filled the air, making your mouth water.

Jungkook ordered for both of you, insisting he knew the best dishes. When the food arrived, he slid a steaming plate of tteokbokki toward you with a smirk. "Round two?"

You burst out laughing. "You're kidding."

"Dead serious," he said, picking up a piece with his chopsticks and holding it out to you. "Unless you're scared?"

"You wish," you shot back, leaning in to take the bite. The spicy-sweet sauce burst across your taste buds, and you couldn't help the satisfied hum that escaped. "Okay, this is really good."

"Told you," Jungkook said, grabbing a bite for himself. "But don't get too comfortable. I'm winning this time."

The two of you dug in, the conversation flowing as easily as the food disappeared. Jungkook was in his element, cracking jokes and teasing you relentlessly, but there was a warmth beneath his playful banter that made your heart flutter.

At one point, he leaned in closer, his dark eyes catching yours in the soft light. "You know, I like this. Just... hanging out. No stress, no tests. Just us."

You felt your cheeks heat up, but you managed a teasing grin. "Are you getting sentimental on me, Jeon?"

"Maybe," he admitted, his smile turning softer. "What can I say? You bring it out of me."

For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade, the noise of the market dimming as you held his gaze. Then Jungkook broke the spell with a sudden grin. "But I'm still beating you at this tteokbokki challenge. Watch."

"Dream on," you said, laughing as you picked up another piece. The night stretched on, the stress of the day forgotten as you and Jungkook filled it with laughter, teasing, and just a hint of something more.

As the night wore on, the little food stall grew quieter, but your laughter with Jungkook only got louder. He was in rare form, his wit sharp, his expressions dramatic. Every time he popped another piece of tteokbokki into his mouth, he acted like it was some Herculean feat, groaning as though the spice might defeat him.

"You're such a baby," you teased, shaking your head. "It's not that spicy."

"Oh, says the queen of spice tolerance," he shot back, his voice muffled as he reached for his drink. "Not all of us are walking fire-breathing dragons."

"Dragons are cool," you said with a shrug. "Take it as a compliment."

He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. "You know, Y/N, you've got a weird way of flirting."

Your chopsticks froze mid-air, and you nearly choked on your own saliva. "Flirting?" you sputtered, your voice jumping an octave. "Who said I was flirting?"

"Not me," he said smoothly, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. "But if you were, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."

You stared at him, trying to gauge if he was being serious or just messing with you. His expression gave nothing away, though the slight tilt of his head and the way his gaze lingered on your face made your heart race.

"Well, don't hold your breath," you shot back, trying to sound unaffected. "You're not that special."

"Ouch," he said, clutching his chest dramatically. "Here I am, taking you out, feeding you, carrying this entire night with my charm, and this is the thanks I get?"

"Carrying the night?" You snorted. "You're delusional. If anything, I'm the one entertaining you."

He grinned, leaning back in his chair as if to concede. "Fine, we'll call it even. But seriously," his tone softened, his playful demeanor giving way to something more sincere. "I'm glad we did this. You seemed so stressed earlier, and it's nice to see you smiling again."

You felt a pang of warmth at his words, his genuine concern breaking through the teasing façade. "Thanks, Kook. I needed this," you admitted, surprising even yourself with how honest you sounded.

"Well, you've got me," he said, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Whenever you need to forget about the world—or just eat your weight in tteokbokki—I'm your guy."

You smiled, unable to help the way your heart seemed to flip at his words. "Careful, Jeon. You keep saying sweet things like that, and people might think you're trying to charm me."

"Trying?" He raised an eyebrow, leaning forward again with a wicked grin. "Y/N, I don't need to try."

The heat in your cheeks betrayed you, but you refused to let him see you flustered. "Wow, your confidence is unmatched. Maybe you should focus less on flirting and more on finishing your plate," you said, gesturing to the food in front of him.

He laughed, grabbing his chopsticks again. "Fine, but don't think you're off the hook. I'm keeping track of how much you've eaten. We're still in competition mode."

"Oh, please. I already won," you retorted, taking another bite to prove your point.

The banter carried on, light and easy, as the plates slowly emptied. By the time the last piece of tteokbokki was gone, you both leaned back in your chairs, letting out identical groans of satisfaction.

"I think I've reached my limit," you said, patting your stomach dramatically. "I might actually regret this tomorrow."

"Regret?" Jungkook scoffed, reaching for his drink. "This is the opposite of regret. This is living." He took a sip, eyeing you with a teasing grin. "Admit it—you're impressed by my ability to pick the perfect late-night spot."

You gave him a look, smirking. "Impressed? Not quite. But I'll give you points for good taste."

"Wow, tough crowd," he said, shaking his head with mock disappointment. "Fine, next time, you pick the place. But don't forget, you owe me now."

"I owe you?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "For what, exactly?"

"For saving you from your stress-induced meltdown," he replied with a grin. "And for treating you to this gourmet feast."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't stop the smile creeping onto your face. "Fine. I guess I do owe you. But don't let it go to your head, Jeon."

"It's already there," he said, tapping the side of his head.

The two of you stood, Jungkook grabbing the tray of empty plates to return to the stall owner. As he turned back to you, his hoodie sleeves pushed up to reveal his forearms, he cocked his head slightly.

"You good to walk home, or do you need me to carry you?" he teased, but his voice held a hint of genuine concern.

"I can manage," you replied, brushing off his offer.

"Sure about that?" he asked, stepping closer with a playful grin. "You look like you're one wrong step away from rolling down the street."

You smacked his arm lightly, laughing. "Don't push your luck."

The two of you started down the street, the cool breeze brushing against your skin. The city had quieted down, leaving only the faint hum of streetlights and the occasional distant chatter of other late-night diners.

"You're not in a rush to get back, are you?" Jungkook asked casually, glancing over at you.

You shook your head. "Not really. Why?"

He hesitated for a second, then shrugged. "Figured you might want to hang out a little longer. My place isn't far from here."

Your heart skipped at the casual invitation, though he said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Your place?"

"Yeah," he said, his tone light but his gaze steady. "It's nothing fancy, but I've got snacks, a comfy couch, and a killer view from the balcony. You can unwind for a bit before heading home."

You hesitated, glancing up at him. There was no pressure in his expression, just a quiet sincerity that made it impossible to say no.

"Okay," you said finally, smiling. "Lead the way, Jeon."

His grin widened, and he reached out, giving your hand a quick tug to follow him. "Prepare to be amazed. Or, you know, mildly impressed."

taglist: @blackswan446 @tesfayera @rrosiitas (comment/msg to be added)

#bts #bts x reader #jungkook ff #jikook x reader #jimin ff #bts college au #college au #park jimin #jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader

49 notes · View notes

sunnydaysshifter · 3 days ago

Text

diva moments in my fame dr ˖⋆࿐໋

traveling to france on my private yacht to attend paris fashion week with my hot bf and looking amazing as ever while the paparazzi gets all my good angles, but to be fair, i don't have any bad angles.

on a day where i don't feel as confident as usual, the paparazzi takes pictures and tons of articles go wild over my beauty. i truly never have a bad face day, do i?

always keeping my fancy pen i use to sign autographs, because let's be real, wherever i go the fans go.

a baby petting my dog on a walk and giggling when it sees me, cmon, even the baby is a fan.

having a fashion line named and inspired after me, because i am THE it girl.

being so rich that when i shop i don't even have to glance at price tags.

being miss dior, that speaks for itself.

fans fighting over my attention at a meet and greet, only for me to break up the fight myself, by giving them both autographs

coachella had slowly started losing popularity, until i headlined (for the 1st time in 7 years) and made it the #1 trending topic on twitter WORLDWIDE

only having toured twice, my tours are yet still of the most succesful tours ever.

calling out my haters with grace and poise, only for them to deactivate their accounts minutes after.

apologizing to fans who waited outside the sold out stadium i was playing at because i had just too many fans

making a small (but amazing) local coffee brand blowup after the paparazzi caught me leaving there with an almond croissant, a killer lip combo, and my coffee.

being called audrey hepburn reincarnated AND hired for the role of audrey in her biopic that i help screenwrite and direct.

some of the biggest rockstars and pop culture icons being amazed to meet little old me

leaked paparazzi photos of me on a balcony in paris in the most chic dior outfit while being handed a bouquet of the most gorgeous lilies and people thought it was a photoshoot because it was just that flawless

my catwalk being so unique that it has it's own definition

being fashionably late to the met gala in a gorgeous blue getup as if i was cinderella herself

makeup artists recreating my fabulous makeup look that i invented myself

my security guards at barricade dancing and singing along to my songs

i accidentally discovered a new fish while scuba diving ?????

different cities/stops on my tours welcoming me with GRAND (and im talking GRAND) gestures, because who wouldn't be honored to have me sing for you?

my signature scent being a mix of 3 different perfumes and it blew up and became trending worldwide

having a signature pair of shades that everyone (even my haters because theyre just that obsessed with me) can easily recognize me from, haven't gone a day without them

#reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting community #desired reality #shifters #shifting antis dni #shifting blog #realityshifting #anti shifters dni #fame dr

51 notes · View notes

darksturnz · 2 days ago

Note

does artist!chris fw cats

OHMYGOSH i literally wrote a blurb about this last night LOL.

The trailer park playground isn’t much of a playground, really. Rusted swings squeal in protest with every gust of wind, and the slide is more tetanus hazard than fun. You’re here because Lila begged, her tiny hand clutching yours like a lifeline. Her green-brown eyes are wide with excitement, and you can’t say no to her—not when she looks at you like that.

Lila darts toward the swings, her brown curls bouncing as she skips over cracks in the gravel. You follow slowly, letting her lead the way. The playground is quiet, the kind of quiet that usually makes your skin crawl. But Lila’s chatter keeps the eerie silence at bay.

And then, she freezes.

“Star!” she whispers, barely audible but filled with the kind of urgency that sends your pulse spiking. “Look!”

You step closer, crouching down beside her. That’s when you see it—huddled beneath the crooked slide, a tiny ball of black fur with too-big green eyes staring up at you. A kitten.

Lila gasps, her excitement barely contained. “It’s a baby cat!” she exclaims, her voice trembling with wonder. She drops to her knees, gravel crunching beneath her, and reaches out a tentative hand.

“Careful,” you say, though your own heart is pounding in a way that feels entirely too childish for someone your age. The kitten doesn’t move, just blinks up at Lila like it’s too tired to be scared.

Lila’s hand brushes the kitten’s fur, and it lets out the softest meow you’ve ever heard. That’s it. Game over. You’re both done for.

“We have to keep it,” Lila declares, scooping the kitten into her arms with the kind of gentleness you wouldn’t expect from a six-year-old. She cradles it like it’s the most precious thing in the world, and you can already see the stubborn gleam in her eye.

“Lila,” you start, trying for a tone of authority. It doesn’t stick. “We can’t just—”

“Look at her!” Lila interrupts, holding the kitten up like it’s some kind of holy relic. The kitten’s green eyes meet yours, and you’re hit with a wave of something warm and unsteady. Maybe it’s the way it doesn’t even try to squirm away, like it already knows you’re safe.

“Oh, you’re in trouble,” you mutter, half to yourself. Lila grins like she’s won.

Chris is under his car when you and Lila return to the trailer. His legs stick out awkwardly from beneath the Tempest, black jeans streaked with oil. The sharp smell of gasoline lingers in the air, mixing with the metallic tang of December.

“Chris!” Lila yells, and you wince at the volume. She barrels toward him, the kitten clutched to her chest like a teddy bear.

“Careful!” you call after her, though it’s pointless. Lila drops to her knees beside Chris’s car and shouts his name again, her excitement spilling over in every direction.

Chris groans, rolling out from under the car with a wrench in one hand and a scowl already forming. “What?” he snaps, though it loses its edge the second he sees Lila’s face. His eyes flick to you, then to the kitten. He freezes.

“What the hell is that?” he asks, his voice flat, but there’s an edge of something else in it—something sharp and nervous that makes your chest tighten.

“It’s a kitten!” Lila announces, beaming like she’s just discovered the cure for world hunger. She thrusts the kitten toward Chris, who leans back like it’s radioactive.

“No,” he says, almost before the word is out of her mouth. “Absolutely not.”

Lila’s face falls, her bottom lip jutting out in the kind of pout that could crumble nations. “But Chris—”

“No,” he says again, standing up and wiping his hands on a rag. He won’t look at the kitten. Or you. “It’s not staying here.”

“Why not?” Lila demands, her voice trembling. “She’s tiny and cold and she needs us!”

“She needs someone who’s not us,” Chris retorts, crossing his arms. His gaze flickers to the kitten for the briefest second before snapping back to Lila. “We don’t have room. Or money. Or—”

“Or a heart,” you interrupt, your voice dripping with faux innocence. You’re not sure why you’re teasing him; maybe it’s the way his shoulders stiffen every time the kitten moves. “Scared of a sweet little kitten, Chris?”

“Not scared,” he replied quickly, his tone sharp. “Just don’t like ‘em.”

Lila giggled, tilting her head. “You’re totally scared! It’s so tiny, though. What’s it gonna do? Bite you?”

Chris glared at her, his lips twitching as though he were holding back a retort. “I’m not scared,” he repeated, his voice tight.

“Sure,” Star said, crossing her arms. “You just don’t like it, right?”

“Exactly,” Chris said, his tone clipped.

The kitten chose that moment to let out a faint meow, and Chris flinched ever so slightly. Lila and Star exchanged amused looks, Lila’s giggle bubbling over again.

“See? You’re scared!” Lila teased, stepping closer to him with the kitten.

“Don’t bring it near me!” Chris snapped, his voice raising just a fraction.

“Why not?” You ask, feigning innocence.

Chris ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “Because I said so. And it’s not staying here.” He pointed at Lila. “Take it to the shelter. Or findsomeone else who wants it. But it’s not my problem.”

“Sure,” you say, drawing the word out. You crouch down beside Lila, mirroring her wide-eyed expression. “It’s okay to admit you’re scared, Chris. Fear is a natural human emotion.”

He glares at you, but there’s no real heat in it. “It’s not fear. It’s common sense. Cats are—” He waves a hand vaguely, like he can’t even articulate what’s wrong with them. “They’re weird.”

“Weird?” Lila echoes, clutching the kitten tighter. “She’s perfect! Look at her little face!”

Chris mutters something under his breath and turns back to his car, clearly done with the conversation.

“So she can stay?” Lila asks, her voice hopeful.

“No,” Chris says without turning around. “Not happening.”

Lila pouted, hugging the kitten protectively to her chest. “But Chris—”

“No,” he interrupted firmly. “End of discussion.”

Lila looks up at you, her eyes brimming with disappointment. You sigh, already feeling the weight of what you’re about to say.

“She can come home with me,” you offer, reaching out to pet the kitten’s soft fur.

Lila’s face lights up again, and she throws her arms around you, kitten and all.

She pulled back and reached up, carefully handing the kitten to you. “You’re gonna be a great mom to it,” she said earnestly.

Chris snorted from where he was bent over the engine again. “Yeah, sure. A real cat whisperer.”

You ignored him, cradling the kitten close. It nuzzled into your jacket, its small body relaxing for the first time.

“C’mon, Lila,” you say, turning to leave. “Let’s go get this little guy some food.”

“Okay!” Lila chirped, skipping after you.

You couldn’t help but smile as you felt the kitten’s soft purrs against your chest. You didn’t need to say it out loud to know—you’d just made a new little friend. And, though he’d never admit it, Chris’s reaction had made the whole thing even better.

You glance back once, just in time to see Chris watching you from under the hood of his car. He looks away quickly, like he wasn’t staring in the first place.

“Coward,” you mutter, but there’s no bite to it. If anything, it feels like a victory.

AUTHORS NOTE: it’ll grow on him like he’s a dad who swore he hated the family dog but cuddles it at night (my father)

TAG LIST: @jetaimevous @sturnsblunt @riasturns @ifwdominicfike @chrissturns-wife @mattsmunch @pip4444chris @ribread03 @ariestrxsh @angelic-sturniolos111 @pvssychicken @mattslolita @stvrnzcherries @dottieboo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @bluestriips @sturniolo-fann @coquettechristiangirly

#ⓘdarksturnz #𐔌 .⋮bluestriips.ᐟ꒱#𐔌 .⋮star!reader.ᐟ꒱#𐔌 .⋮artist!chris.ᐟ꒱#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo drabble #chris sturniolo blurb #christopher sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo angst #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo

38 notes · View notes

whosscruffylooking · 1 day ago

Text

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ The Beginning of Us- Chapter 3 ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

Joel Miller x Fem! Reader warnings: mentions of blood, severe injuries, and major character death. word count: 2k a/n: it has been almost 2 years since i last updated this story. i am so sorry! the support was amazing in the beginning and i hope we can get that level of excitement back. i won't be using the old taglist b/c I don't want to spam people who have lost interest, but if you find this story again and want to be re-added, let me know! Series Masterlist

September 27, 2003

The truck lurches forward, its tires screeching against the asphalt as Tommy swerves to avoid yet another police blockade. “We’ve gotta go around,” he announces, his voice tinged with panic.

As he rounds another corner, you see the full scale of the madness that’s overtaking the town. Screaming, desperate civilians rush in all directions. Some push others out of the way, some stumble, half-running, like they’re being driven by something more primal than fear. The streets seem alive with terror. Buildings burn in the distance, casting an orange glow over the chaos. The smell of smoke is thick in the air, mixing with the screeching sirens and the deafening roar of panic.

Joel’s grip on the door handle tightens as Tommy slows down, trying to navigate through the clogged streets—cars, people, debris. “Tommy, you can’t stop here! Just keep going!” Joel’s voice is strained with urgency, the reality of the situation sinking in.

But before Tommy can respond, the sound of a crash cuts through the madness. A stampede of people erupts from a nearby saloon, running in every direction. Some are still human, their faces twisted in terror, but others—others move with that same empty, unfocused stare, like the Adlers.

“Joel!” You shout, heart pounding as you notice more infected spilling into the streets, converging on the chaos like a tide.

“Tommy, back up!” Joel orders, his voice sharp with the kind of authority that leaves no room for hesitation.

“Dad!” Sarah screams, her voice laced with panic as she looks out the window, her eyes wide.

Then, a sound that makes your stomach drop—a roar of an engine overhead. You look up just in time to see a plane plummeting toward you, its engine sputtering, spiraling out of control.

“Tommy! Go forward!” you scream, instinctively grabbing the seatbelt, the panic escalating as the plane gets closer.

The aircraft’s landing gear rips off as it hits the ground with a violent crash. One of its wheels comes careening toward the truck. The impact is bone-jarring. The truck shudders violently, and Tommy swerves, trying to avoid the collision, but it’s too late.

With a sickening crunch, the truck’s wheel rips off, and in an instant, the vehicle flips over. Time seems to slow as the world tilts, your stomach lurching with the motion. Glass shatters, metal groans, and the air is filled with the shrill sound of twisting steel. The world goes black.

»»————————-««

You slowly come to, your head heavy, ears ringing faintly. Everything feels distant, muffled, as though you're underwater. Your body aches, but a sharp, searing pain in your side yanks you fully back to consciousness. Gasping, you try to move, only to find yourself pinned under the weight of the overturned truck. Panic seizes you as you realize you're trapped.

The air is thick with smoke, the acrid scent of gasoline stinging your nose. A faint orange glow flickers nearby, casting dancing shadows around the wreckage. You reach out, your trembling fingers scraping against the rough asphalt as you try to push yourself free. Pain flares in your side, sharp and unforgiving, and you cry out, your voice weak and ragged.

Looking down, you see the source of the agony-a jagged piece of metal embedded in your hip. Blood trickles from the wound, pooling around you, the sight of it making your stomach churn.

A voice breaks through the chaos, muffled and frantic. "Y/N!" It's familiar, pulling you from the haze of pain and fear. You turn your head, squinting through the haze of smoke, just as strong hands grip your arms.

Tommy appears above you, his face streaked with dirt and panic. "I've got you," he says, his voice tight as he pulls you free with a force that makes you cry out. The shrapnel shifts, sending fresh waves of agony through your body.

Tommy cradles you against his chest, his grip firm but careful. "Shit, you're hurt bad," he mutters, glancing at the blood staining your side.

"We need to move."

"Where… where's Joel?" you manage to whisper, your voice weak and strained.

Tommy doesn't answer right away, his eyes darting toward the wreckage. You follow his gaze, spotting Joel a few yards away. He's cradling Sarah in his arms, her body limp, her head hanging at an unnatural angle. Your breath catches in your throat.

"Joel!" You cry out to him.

"Can you make it?" Joel calls, his voice desperate as he notices you leaning heavily on Tommy.

Before you can respond, the ground shudders beneath you. A police car barrels toward the wreckage, its tires screeching as it careens out of control. Tommy yells, dragging you back just as the car slams into the truck. The crash is deafening, and in an instant, the wreckage erupts into flames, the heat searing your skin.

"Go!" Tommy shouts, pulling you to your feet despite your injury. Joel's voice cuts through the chaos.

"I'll come back for you!" he shouts, but the flames rise higher, swallowing the space between you. Your heart sinks as you watch him disappear into the smoke, Sarah still in his arms.

Tommy tugs you along, his arm around your waist to support your weight. Each step sends fresh jolts of pain through your body, but you push forward, the adrenaline dulling some of the agony.

"Stay with me," Tommy urges, his voice strained but steady.

The sound of frantic footsteps makes you glance over your shoulder. A stampede of people surges toward you, their faces twisted in terror. Some shove past you, others stumble, the chaos swallowing everything in its path.

"Shit," Tommy mutters, tightening his grip on you. The crowd overtakes you both, pushing and jostling. You stumble, nearly falling, but Tommy holds you steady.

"Tommy, you have to go," you gasp, your voice trembling.

"What? No!" He looks at you, his face filled with disbelief.

"Help Joel. Help Sarah," you plead, your grip tightening on his arm. "You need to find them." His jaw clenches, torn between staying with you and the pull of his brother and niece.

"I'm not leaving you," he says, his voice rough with emotion.

"Go!" you shout, your voice stronger now despite the pain. "'I'll hold them off. Just go!"

Tommy hesitates, his face twisted with frustration and guilt. Finally, he nods, his hand lingering on your shoulder for a moment. "I'll come back for you," he says, his voice low but firm.

You force a nod, biting back the fear clawing at your chest.

"Go."

He turns and disappears into the chaos, leaving you alone in the suffocating heat and smoke. The world feels impossibly quiet for a moment, the distant screams and growls fading into the background.

Then you hear it—a low, guttural growl. Your heart skips a beat as you turn, spotting an infected stumbling toward you. Its pale, bloodied face twitches unnaturally, its vacant eyes locking onto you. Panic grips you as it snarls, its jerky movements bringing it closer with horrifying speed.

You stumble backward, clutching your side, the pain making your legs weak. There's no way you can outrun it, not in your state. Your eyes dart around, searching for anything, anywhere to hide.

You spot an open dumpster a few feet away.

Gritting your teeth, you force yourself to move, each step agonizing. The infected lets out a bone-chilling scream, its footsteps pounding against the asphalt as it charges.

With the last of your strength, you dive into the dumpster, pulling the lid closed just as the infected reaches you. Its snarls and thudding fists against the metal send shivers down your spine. You press your hand against your mouth, stifling your ragged breaths as tears streak down your face.

The banging continues, relentless, until another noise distracts it—a distant scream.

The infected pauses, then lets out a shriek before stumbling off in pursuit of its new prey.

You don't move, your body trembling as you listen to its growls fade into the distance. The metallic tang of blood fills your mouth as you bite down hard, trying to steady your breathing. You're alive, for now, but you don't know for how long.

»»————————-««

Joel cradles Sarah’s limp body in his arms, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Her blood is warm on his hands, seeping into his clothes, but all he can feel is the cold weight of her lifeless body. His world narrows to her face, still and pale, her wide eyes unseeing.

“Come on, baby,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “Please, Sarah. Please don’t do this to me.” His hands shake as he brushes a strand of hair from her face, desperation clawing at his chest. “You’re gonna be okay. You have to be okay.”

Tommy crouches beside him, glancing over his shoulder at the chaos closing in around them. Fires blaze in the distance, screams echoing through the night, and the guttural growls of the infected grow louder. There’s no time—but Tommy doesn’t know how to move Joel.

“Joel,” he says softly, his hand resting on his brother’s shoulder. “We have to go.”

Joel doesn’t look at him. He stares down at Sarah, his face a mask of disbelief and devastation. “She was just a kid,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t…” His words break apart, swallowed by a sob that shakes his entire body.

Tommy glances around again, his grip tightening on his rifle. They’re running out of time. “Joel,” he says more urgently, shaking his brother’s shoulder. “Listen to me. We’ve gotta move. Now.”

Joel finally tears his gaze from Sarah, his face streaked with tears and looks at Tommy. For a moment, he seems lost, his eyes unfocused. Then something shifts. “Where’s Y/N?” he asks, his voice hoarse. “She was with us. Where is she?”

Tommy’s jaw tightens. He doesn’t answer right away, his eyes flicking down to Sarah and back up to Joel. The weight of the question lingers in the air, heavy and suffocating.

“Where is she, Tommy?” Joel’s voice rises, panic threading through his words. He stands, still holding Sarah in his arms as if letting her go will make it real. “Did she make it out? Where the hell is she?”

Tommy hesitates, his expression hard to read. “She’s gone,” he says finally, his voice firm but laced with something unspoken. “She left.”

Joel freezes, the words hitting him like a physical blow. “What are you talking about?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. “She wouldn’t just leave. Not without us.”

“She did,” Tommy says, his tone resolute. “I saw her take off. She probably thought it was safer on her own.” He looks away, scanning the horizon for danger, his face set like stone. “She’s tough, Joel. She’ll survive.”

Joel shakes his head, the anguish in his eyes twisting into something sharper, rawer. “No,” he mutters. “No, she wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t just leave us. She wouldn’t leave me.” His voice cracks on the last word, the betrayal cutting deeper than the chaos around them.

Tommy grabs his arm, pulling him back to reality. “Right now, we gotta focus on staying alive,” he says. “You hear me? We’ll figure the rest out later.”

Joel doesn’t respond. He sets Sarah down gently on the ground, his hands lingering on her face, his throat tight as he forces himself to let her go. He removes his watch—the one you and Sarah had worked so hard to get repaired. Now, it’s shattered, frozen at the exact moment his life changed forever. Gently, he lays it on his daughter’s still form. His movements are mechanical, his mind a storm of disbelief, grief, and the aching question: why would she leave?

Tommy leads the way, his rifle raised, and Joel follows, his steps heavy, his thoughts churning. Anger, confusion, and pain twist together in his chest, but above it all, one thought keeps circling back.

She left us. She left me.

Taglist: @si1versamurai

#joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller headcanons #joel miller angst #the beginning of us au!#joel miller x female reader #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine

21 notes · View notes

captain-joongz · 1 day ago

Text

Penny for your ghosts, chapter 2

Pairing: OT7!BTS x f!reader

Genre: hybrid au, supernatural au, ghost hunting au (based on Lockwood&Co lore), found family, fluff and humour, some angst, eventual smut

Chapter summary: Moving in is thankfully a smooth affair, and getting to know the pack also brings surprising happiness. Now all that's left to gain is a client.

Chapter word count: 9.9k

Previous part | Next part | Series masterlist

Warnings: a little discussion about death and ghosts, some mentions of near death experiences, some exposition, Yoongi and Namjoon are little shits that love to tease

A/N: originally I planned on ending the chapter a little further, but this is also a good place to cut it and I felt that you guys deserve a little something, so instead of this gathering metaphorical dust in my drawer, I'll be putting out the chapter like this! Hope you enjoy and happy holidays! <3 ps: the new run jin episode is fucking hilarious, i love our boys so much

When two days later Jimin and Hoseok rolled up to the hotel room I was staying in, it was more than just a little embarrassing. I’ve tried telling them that I didn’t really have anything I needed help with, but like the gentlemen they were they insisted.

So, with my single duffel bag worth of belongings in Hoseok's hand and a bag with my old rapier and gear in Jimin's, we set out through the late noon city back to their house.

Namjoon has graciously offered me to live in an empty room up in the attic, where I’d have my own little kitchenette and bathroom (to which of course Seokjin added that I’m still more than welcome to eat with them, to Yoongi’s vehement agreement. Taehyung then later added that I’m welcome to shower with them too, and got immediately kicked by at least four hyungs). I was ecstatic to have a chance to leave the dingy hotel, so I ignored them all and profusely thanked the embarrassed wolf hybrid.

I thought I’d gotten used to the weird looks people often give PI operatives, but here in the big city it was even worse. Even though hybrids weren’t anything new, we’d still get a lot of looks – some fascinated, some curious, some disgusted. And when we travelled while in gear, with big bags full of iron and shiny rapiers hanging at our waists, fear and apprehension would set in as well.

Hybrids were something strange to humans, and ghosts were an imminent danger to their lives they couldn’t even see – therefore we became the mix of everything they feared and couldn’t understand.

So standing in the tram, three hybrids carrying a bag with a rapier sticking out of it, we were quite the spectacle, and I could feel my ears pulling back with the discomfort I felt. Jimin and Hoseok looked unbothered, but I could see the tenseness in their postures.

There was some general chatter, but with the curse of heightened hybrid hearing I could hear every word clearly, as if I was a part of the conversation. And my companions were in the same boat, as I could see Jimin's brows twitch in annoyance whenever someone said something stupid.

“I sure didn’t miss all the complaining about the curfew,” mused the arctic fox the second we got off on our stop and started in the direction of the house. Me and Hoseok both hummed in agreement.

The curfew was something that was put in place already over two decades ago as a desperate hail Mary attempt to stop people from getting hurt out in the streets. It was much easier to contain hauntings when they happened somewhere inside, but out there, especially around parks and cemeteries, the apparitions still sometimes managed to slip by the protective barriers and spill out onto roads.

Back then there were many deaths in the late winter afternoons, with people rushing home from work already after sundown and getting caught up with unruly ghosts. All it took was a single touch and they never made it home.

So the government put up a flexible curfew – it moved according to the seasons – in summer it was later, usually around 8 PM, while during autumn it slowly shifted until it settled somewhere around 3-4 PM during the winter. After that regular folk weren’t allowed to walk outside alone – only operatives were.

It saved many lives, but unfortunately it couldn’t save people from the hauntings in their own homes. Winters in general were hard – ghosts were stronger, agencies were so busy they couldn’t have enough operatives and people died often. We were just beginning autumn, but the dread could already be tasted in the crisp air, even when it was sunny outside.

Just like last time, when I arrived at the house I was immediately warmly received by Seokjin and Namjoon, the two hybrids waiting for us in the brown sitting room and idly talking with the rest of the team. Or pack, maybe more accurately.

There was of course Yoongi, who still smirked at me whenever our eyes met as I willed my blush away, and Taehyung, who was technically the first person I’d ever met from Bangtan Inc. (a fact which earned me a very solemn and sincere “I’m sorry” from Seokjin). The last person in that room I haven’t met yet was a young wolf with huge sparkling eyes that would look so innocent and angelic had I not seen him send mischievous grins towards the black bear earlier.

His name was Jungkook, and he was the youngest. Well, at least before I tagged along.

With pleasantries now out of the way my things were quickly shuffled over to Seokjin’s and Namjoon’s hands, and they started a little tour of the house. Apart from the kitchen and the two sitting rooms, there was also a library and a lounge with games all at once down here on the ground floor – it was the room I heard the chatter from during my first visit. There was also a little bathroom and a storage room tucked into the space behind the staircase, but that was all.

Their rooms were all on the first floor, together with an office space that was mostly Namjoon’s. They didn’t bring me up there, but there wasn’t really why – because I soon learnt that the way to the attic wasn’t through there.

The two hybrids led me towards the same door as last time, the one leading towards the basement stairs. This time I looked around the little space and realised there was another door leading out and the stairs actually curled to lead up too.

“I’m sorry, there will be a lot of steps,” Namjoon muttered sheepishly, gesturing for me to go first. I did.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” I replied, smiling at him good-naturedly to ease his worries, “I’m from the mountains, remember?” The men chuckled and we climbed silently after that.

The room was cozy – really, I would even call it a loft – it spanned the entirety of the attic, just a big open square of space. There was a worn carpet there, an old persian with layers of dust caked into it, with a similarly old looking couch and a little table. In a corner stood an old rickety iron double bed that looked like it’s seen better days, but it would do.

The kitchen was an open space, a little table just enough for two people to eat there was situated right at the edge between the living space and the kitchenette. Bathroom was most probably the little room right next to it, tucked into another corner.

“Will this be enough?” Namjoon asked and he did sound actually worried, to my astonishment, “My uncle used to live here when I was little. And the boys sometimes came here when they wanted to be alone, but I’ll tell them not to do that anymore.”

I gaped at the men, taking the space in.

“Enough? This is more than enough, Namjoon-ssi!” I exclaimed excitedly, “I would even argue that it might be too much. Are you sure you don’t want me to pay rent?” The wolf chuckled fondly and shook his head, carefully setting my bag down on the sofa.

“Of course not, Y/N,” he rumbled back, “The space is here and it just collects dust, or someone comes here to- to sulk. They sometimes come here to sulk.” From the corner of my eye I saw the hybrid blush again as Seokjin jabbed his side with his elbow, but I paid them no mind, completely enthralled by a beautiful set of a wardrobe and drawers made from massive dark wood and carved beautifully with flowering vines that was standing next to the door.

“What Namjoon’s trying to say is,” Seokjin took over with a twitchy smile, “that we’ll be glad to know someone’s properly loving the space and taking care of it.” I returned the smile and walked deeper into the room.

“I tried to deep clean it yesterday so you could sleep here, but it might not be perfect,” the bear hybrid continued, rounded ears cutely flicking around and following my movements, “but I’m sure that tomorrow we can finish it all together. Hoseok promised to help as well.” Namjoon visibly perked up at the mention of that name and turned to me from where he was zoning out.

“Oh, speaking of which,” he exclaimed and motioned for me to follow them back down, “He’s waiting for us down in the office.”

By the office he meant the space down in the basement, where Hoseok occupied one of the desks, currently sitting down with one of the chunky phones pressed to his ear and diligently jotting something into a notebook.

We politely waited for him to be done, through with all the pleasantries, and then he happily jumped up from the table, pure unfiltered joy pouring out of him as he waved the little notebook about.

“A client?” Seokjin asked, eyes wide with hope, and smiled bright when Hoseok nodded. The men all huddled around the desk, muttering to each other things I couldn’t hear properly while I awkwardly stood around and shuffled from foot to foot. Thankfully it took maybe only a minute before Namjoon realised I came in with them and he whirled around with a guilty expression, tugging the notebook out of the fox’s hands and pulling me closer to the desk.

“Actually hyung, we came here to deliver your newbie,” he said and said man grinned at me blindingly, until I almost forgot anything except for the fact that I was so damn happy to be here.

“I’ll be something of a direct superior of yours, sort of,” Hoseok explained gently, dragging me over to sit me down at his desk.

“We don’t really have any kind of hierarchy, but Hobi’s the most organised by far, so this all is his domain,” Seokjin explained, gesturing with wide arms over the basement. When I turned back to the fox I felt the awe that must have been reflected in my eyes, and the hybrid blushed, turning his head slightly to the side while Namjoon snickered somewhere behind us.

“Everybody helps, but I mostly oversee everything, just to make sure,” he explained further as he leaned his hip on the desk to be more comfortable.

“He’ll be the one telling you what needs to be done and where you could be useful. Or me. Or Jin-hyung,” Namjoon added and smiled at my expression as I tried to commit everything to memory.

“Just whatever happens, don’t listen to anything the maknaes say,” Hoseok warned and I nodded eagerly until they all giggled at me.

“Well,” Namjoon started and looked to Seokjin who immediately nodded, both of them backing away towards the stairs, “We’ll leave you to it.” I couldn’t help but notice that the little notebook containing info about their new client stayed safely tucked away in Namjoon’s hand, far away from me, and my ears and eyes.

“Right,” Hoseok’s voice tore me out of my reverie, and I turned back to him only to see him looking around the basement in contemplation, lip caught between his teeth as he pondered. Then he jumped up and started walking towards the filing cabinets.

“Come, I’ll show you the system I use for categorisation. And please, call me Hobi.”

The first two weeks I spent with my new company in the new house were quite uneventful. The client that had called was swiftly dealt with only two days later, and only Namjoon and Jimin went, leading me to believe it must have been some weak shade.

Type 1 ghosts, the weakest ones, were usually the kind that started off the season of death, as it was so colloquially called, and mostly didn’t demand much manpower. They weren’t as dangerous, well, as far as ghosts could go – it was very unusual for them to show any kind of killing intent, but even a peaceful ghost’s touch could be deadly.

That was something that was drilled into us endlessly in school – both kids with talent and without – to never get close to a ghost, never let it touch you, and run away as fast as possible and get an adult.

It was the general rule everyone except for operatives abided by – unless they wanted a slow painful death of rot and decomposition to spread through their body from the place of contact, until it pumped their veins with poison and claimed their heart. It was a gruesome death, and it was terrible to witness. Sometimes you could be saved with a couple of shots of adrenaline or a swifty amputation, but vital places – head, chest, stomach – were lethal.

And it was the number one killer of both adults and children in the world.

But the sting of secrecy of that first case was dulled by the fact that no one except for Namjoon, Jimin and Hoseok cared much for it, and it was dealt with within two hours.

I spent those days with curious glances burnt into my back as I mostly silently followed Hobi around and listened to his instructions wherever we came upon something new. I helped him and Taehyung clean down in the basement, I sat next to him as he showed me how to properly fill out forms we’d need, or how to file new cases (of which none came). I even felt guilty enough for not having anything to help with to earn my keep that I insisted on helping with gathering the fallen leaves in the garden, and with flaming cheeks made Yoongi let me help him cook every evening (even though I was a disaster in the kitchen and often got reprimanding looks from the tiger hybrid).

Most of the time though we went endlessly again and again through the little storage in the basement and made sure we were fully stocked up and ready to head out for a case if needed.

It meant hours upon hours of sitting in a steadily colder and colder windowless room, wading through kilos of salt and iron fillings, checking the magnesium flares to see they were properly stored, preparing salt and iron bombs, oiling and caring for iron chains that were used for protective circles, sharpening rapiers and similar.

And as much Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook whined about Hobi forcing them to do it every two days even though we saw no business, I completely understood the red fox.

Face to face to a ghost, there weren’t many things that could save you or protect you, except for your rapier and a belt filled with these helpers. One too many operatives had died because they hadn’t checked they packed everything or that it was functional.

Magnesium flares when unused sometimes became a hazard and could burn a whole house down, salt and iron bombs sometimes crystallised shut when improperly stored. Chains when left alone rusted and stuck together. When the crucial moment came, even a second delay in a flare going off could mean sure death.

So I happily spent my time in the basement, checking the boys’ belts and bags to make absolutely sure that when they left, they would also return. And sometimes it would turn into training as well, Hobi dragging us into the neighbouring room and spending long hours laughing in the ring, watching the men fight with big smiles on their faces.

It was exactly two weeks into my quite uneventful stay when Namjoon poked his head into the green room where I was sulking by the fire. That day Hobi had no tasks for me, and I took to getting in Yoongi’s way in the kitchen, attempting to help until Jin was laughing at the exasperated tiger and I ended up being exiled into the sitting room. Jimin had briefly stopped by to snicker at me and then he was gone in a flurry of giggles, leaving me to my gloom.

I had wanted to follow him, to go with him and play with the other maknaes as Yoongi and Jin all called us, but I was being too shy to approach them outside of work responsibilities, and judging by their hesitant smiles, they were having the same problem.

So Namjoon walked in on me sullenly poking into the fire with a stick, watching the embers fly through the air and listening to the crackle of the wood, all on my lonesome.

“Hey,” he said with that gentle timbre, and I immediately perked up, “your gear just got here.” If Namjoon found funny the way I promptly jumped to my feet and ran through the house towards the basement... well I didn’t really stick around long enough to find out whether he laughed, but he sure came down behind me with a big grin on his face.

We ordered my own gear a few days back, Jin dragging me down here and measuring me with excruciating detail to make sure it fit as best as possible, and it might have been the crankiest I’ve gotten around the eldest of the pack as we continuously bickered about which size should be ordered, especially the shoes. But Jin took my attitude with grace (got sassy and told me I’m just like Jungkook, which at that moment didn’t feel much like a compliment), so all was well in the end.

“Do you want me to call Jin-hyung?” Namjoon asked, mischief written into his soft round face, and I immediately shook my head.

“I don’t think I’d survive if he’s proven right live,” I said and shuddered at the thought of his smug smirk whenever we had to admit we were in the wrong. I’d seen it around a few times during the two weeks, even once from Yoongi, which Jimin later told me was quite the feat. Apparently the stubborn tiger would rather lose his own hand than admit anything. “Let’s not tell him if it fits as well as he thought.”

Namjoon behind me snickered and pretended as if he was locking his mouth and throwing away the key, before he pulled a big cardboard box onto Hobi’s table.

“You catch up fast,” he teased with a big smile, “first rule of surviving here – Jin-hyung is scarier than anything that might be lurking outside during the night.” I scoffed at that, but didn’t dispute it, instead choosing to get to opening the box.

The uniform of an operative is quite simple really – we mostly wore combat shoes with silver tip and iron interladed soles, cargo pants made from thick cotton that didn’t tear easily and special long-sleeved t-shirts that fit like second skin and it was virtually impossible to destroy them unless you got stabbed. Then of course, seasonal additions like sweaters or jackets or gloves. But these were the basics.

The pack didn’t hesitate to spend money on me, and I had to admit that that night it brought some tears to me eyes, knowing they were counting on me to stay with them that long. It was a heart-warming moment for me, as it felt like I was truly expected to take my place in their ranks and not only serve them coffee forever (which some other agencies loved to do with younger recruits – which, I wasn’t even that young, not for an operative anyway).

So now I was pulling out three sets of each, enough to be able to comfortably swap between them during laundry, and to not have the fear that if some unfortunate accident befell my uniform, I didn’t have to fear not having anything else. I promised the man that the next batch I’d already buy from the money I earned, but he just smiled and said nothing, warm eyes fondly watching me and Jin drag Hobi into our squabble.

Now, putting them on, I felt like an investigator more than I ever had in my old torn jeans and washed out hand-me-down hoodie I’d worn up in the north.

The memories that flooded my brain brought a bit of melancholy to my heart and I thought back to my parents, or my PI friends – all the people I haven’t spoken to since I ran down here. Some that I’d never get the chance to speak to ever again.

“They fit perfectly,” I called from the small bathroom, door cracked open just enough for my voice to carry unobstructed, and I hoped Namjoon didn’t hear the tinge of sadness colouring it now, “of course they fucking do.” The last part was muttered softly under my breath, but judging from the chuckle in the other room, the wolf heard me nonetheless.

Bundling the clothes back into the box and leaving it by the desk for tomorrow’s me to deal with, we both slowly started back into the living spaces, and my palms slowly grew clammy.

“Hey Namjoon?” I said somewhat unsteadily, and watched his ears perk up before he turned to me. Perhaps sensing my nerves, the wolf gently smiled, his scent mellowing and covering me with a blanket of safe warm feelings.

“Could I maybe use the landline for personal calls?”

The hybrid looked at me confused for a moment, like he was computing that this was the only thing I truly wanted, before his expression melted into compassion.

“Y/N, of course you can,” he told me gently, “you can use anything in the house. Including the library, if you’re ever bored.” I blushed at the knowing look in his eyes, and wondered which of his hyungs told on me. Probably Yoongi, that snitch. And I thought we’d have feline hybrids solidarity. I chuckled at his words and nodded, now more embarrassed than shy.

Having his blessing, I circled back to the basement and took a seat at one of the tables where I never saw anyone else sit, leaving Namjoon to return on his own.

The old plastic phone felt familiar in my hand, as I grew up in a place where technology stayed in the 90s. Well, most of other things did as well, to be perfectly honest. The number I was calling was burned into my memory, I’d probably be able to recite it even on my death bed (though for operatives that didn’t have to mean that long).

The line crackled for a moment before a tired “hello?” rang though my ears.

“Mom,” I realised too late that my voice came out wet, the heavy knot of emotions stuck in my throat at hearing her voice again after such a long while, and there was a similarly emotional intake of breath on the other side.

“Oh, darling,” the happy voice said, suddenly all tiredness gone from it, a youthfulness sounding through that made me think back to my childhood, “how’s the city treating you?”

“Good, I found a good pa- I mean I found a good agency, I’m with them now. Working. Working with them,” I stumbled through the sentence, blushy and teary-eyed, and I swore I could hear laughter upstairs.

“Are they taking good care of you, my baby?” she asked, her voice so warm and receptive I wanted to crawl through the phone and wrap myself into it. I nodded, and then rushed to assure her when I realised she couldn’t see me.

“How’s everyone? Dad? Jiwoo? What about Daiyu? How is she?” The barrage of questions spilled out of me in one breath and on the other side I heard my mom giggle quietly.

“Dad’s dad, still the same,” she started, love and amusement dripping from her voice, “you know how he gets when autumn comes. I’ve barely even seen him, he spends all his time in the garden.” I chuckled at that, the image of my father in his old jeans that were more mending patches than the original pants, lovingly tending to his bushes and plants, preparing them for the tough season ahead, was burned into my memory from having it seen every autumn. He was a silent man, but every time he stepped out, you could see the love and gentleness shine through when he looked at “nature’s gifts”, as he put it.

“Jiwoo is also as he’s always been,” mum continued, voice sounding lighter and more joyful with every word spoken, “as stubborn as a mule, like any teenage boy. Running around the mountains with his friends, I barely even see him.”

A phone in the hall upstairs started ringing, and I could hear the beeps interrupting through the call I was currently in, so I quickly clicked the other line to keep the call running. Running footsteps thundered right above me, the excitement palpable through them, and then I could hear Hoseok’s muffled voice as he answered it.

“And Daiyu…” there my mother hesitated for a moment, unaware of my split attention, and I forced myself back into listening to her, “Well, I think she’s doing quite well, all things considered. You should give her a call too, darling, I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.”

I hummed, but even as I tried to come up with a response, I could feel my ear twitching with the strain of listening on the call currently happening a hall above me, but to no avail. Everything Hoseok said blended into an undecipherable buzz, all the words melting into each other.

“Y/N? Darling?”

“Yes, mum, yes, I’m here,” I squeezed out quickly, turning away from the door as if would stop me from eavesdropping, “I’ll give her a call, just… I gotta run now.” There was a bit of silence on the other side, underlined with how suddenly the house fell silent too, and then my mother hummed. But it was the kind of hum that told me she had much more to say, yet chose not to, and I sighed.

“It’s not like that..” I said quickly, trying to put stop to anything she might be thinking now, but she only hummed again, in the way mothers did when they thought they knew better than you did, and I already knew that battle was lost. With a fond sigh, I decided to just let it go.

“Look mum, I have to go, I think we just got a call from a client,” I told her, and thankfully she got the hint, and with an amused sigh she let it go as well.

“Alright then, my dear,” she said lightly, just a twinge of longing creeping into her voice, and it pierced my heart painfully enough to almost rob me of my breath.

“I’m gonna call again soon, mum,” I reassured her quickly, jumping in before she got another word out, “My- my- Employer… my employer said I could use the phones as I needed! I’ll call again soon..” I got a little stuttered up over how to call Namjoon, but if she thought it was weird, at least she didn’t see the way I lit up with a mighty blush over the slip-up I almost had; for there was another word dangerously close to slipping out, one that was very not appropriate for me to use.

And I hoped that the sound didn’t spread as easily upstairs, and I wouldn’t hear a fresh batch of teasing, now with the wolf hybrid instead of Yoongi.

“Well, I’ll hear from you soon,” her quiet voice carried over, “I love you, my darling.” I smiled to myself, probably looking like a right love-sick fool.

“I love you too, mummy,” I whispered back, “Be well.” She lingered for a moment longer, I heard her quiet breaths on the other side of the line, and then there was a quiet click of her setting the phone down, and then only continuous beeps.

I took some time to take a few deep breaths, stabilising myself a little before my first shaky steps back towards the stairs.

The hall was empty when I made it back up, but I heard excitable chatter coming from the direction of the sitting rooms, so if I had to guess, whoever was here was probably all huddled up in the green room by the fire, stealing my spot.

I ran up a little, taking quick bouncy steps, both rejuvenated by the call and excited for potentially getting to do some ghost busting.

And I sure wasn’t the only one, because when I ran into the room, it turned out that everyone was already there – the whole pack, sitting around and peeking into Hoseok’s hands, where the black notebook was clutched.

He was just in the middle of saying something when I zoomed in, but got stuttered up upon seeing me full energy like that. Yoongi was standing by his shoulder, and upon my fiery exit looked up only to smirk my way, eyes cheekily taking me in. I cursed my ears and tail for flicking up eagerly, but it felt less embarrassing when his did the same, and it wasn’t enough to make the grin slide off of my face, so I just ignored Jimin’s teasing (evil) snickers and moved into the room.

Just for a split second I worried I might have not been fully welcomed in on the discussion – Hoseok seemed to have already started talking, everybody was present except for me – but then Namjoon smiled and waved me over, vacating his spot on the couch so that I could settle myself right between Taehyung and Jungkook while he stood over us, leaning on the head rest.

“I was just about to go get you,” he said in the warm tone of his, and I relaxed into the soft pillows immediately. I looked towards the red fox, who was sitting in the armchair in front of me, eyes lit up like he just got the best news ever. He looked towards me too and smiled so brightly it was almost blinding.

“We got a client. And this one’s gonna be a doozy.”

Seokjin was nervously fluffing up the pillows for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes, and I could see that I wasn’t the only one whose nerves were getting grated by that, but since the bear was so sincere and hopeful about it, none of us dared to say anything. Most of the time Kim Seokjin was a man that would put fear of God into you within seconds, but when it came to customers, he’d almost turn cute.

Not that I’d dare say that out loud to him.

“Cute,” teased Hoseok, and I immediately flushed. Seokjin turned to him with a disapproving tsk, but there was a red hue on his cheeks, and for a moment I was caught marvelling at such a rare sight. Obviously, the consensus about Seokjin’s pre-visit habits was pretty clear around here.

Like when I had my job interview, the only ones present were the three hybrids that seemed to be the most involved with running the company – Seokjin, Namjoon and Hoseok, with the addition of me to take notes. Though, all the others were around too, and I knew they were anxiously waiting to listen in as soon as the customer arrived.

Thankfully, the torture of watching Seokjin pace the room one more time to fluff the pillows one more time was cut short with a sound of the bell thundering through the suddenly unnaturally silent house.

I watched as the red fox jumped to his feet, ears flicking with attention towards the door as his tail nervously swung about in a manner that would soon become dangerous to stand too close to. Namjoon seemed to have petrified, standing woodenly with an awkward smile, and I would almost giggle at the sight if not for the aura of nerves engulfing everything.

Seokjin was already toying with the silver tea kettle as Hoseok tripped over himself and then over the armchair in a mad race to the front door. I had an abrupt flashback to our first meeting – to how eager he was to a point he stressed me out, and I promptly stood up into his way to try and curb his energy.

He was probably just too focused on getting to the door, that would explain why he didn’t fully notice me at first, not until I was already too close and in an attempt to stop he instead slipped on the squeaky clean wooden floors and barrelled right into me.

A moment of weightlessness was all I registered before suddenly gravity pulled hard, and before I knew it, I was sprawled over the brown room’s floor with Hoseok’s extremely red face planted right into my chest.

Everything stilled for a few extremely tense seconds before the fox was jumping off of me with a loud embarrassed scream, the sound enough to summon everyone, and I meant everyone, to run into the hall to witness me lying on my back on the floor like a beached whale while Hoseok buried his entire upper body into the armchair like an ostrich its head into the sand.

One look at the two other present hybrids told me all I had to know. Namjoon stood there with face as red as a lobster and looking absolutely horrified, while Seokjin had his hand over his mouth, though his eyes were crinkled with silent laughter.

I rather didn’t even look towards the others, instead I quickly climbed back onto my feet as a second bell rung through the house. No one said anything. Yoongi was laughing. Loudly.

“Okay,” I took charge of the situation, “Hoseok, calm down and get some shoes. Namjoon you too. Calm down, I mean.” Then I turned to the four other very entertained hybrids and narrowed my eyes. “Everybody else scram. I’m gonna open the door and when I walk into here with the client, you’ll be relaxed and professional, alright?”

Without waiting for a reply, I turned with my face still burning and stalked toward the main entrance. Though, I heard the patter of feet running quietly away and Seokjin muttering “we have to work on this part” under his breath, so it was safe to assume they took me bossing them around better than I hoped they would.

With a deep breath I steadied myself, slipping into the more customer friendly demeanour and opened the door with an amicable smile.

And older lady stood there. She very obviously came from money, everything about her screamed wealth – from her elegant black dress with lace collar, to the golden brooch with a blood red ruby that was pinned the lace, to her grey hair slicked back into a tight hairdo at the back of her head. She had quite a strict face, not necessarily unfriendly, but definitely not open, and she leaned on a black walking stick quite heavily.

There was a middle-aged man supporting her from the other side, probably her son by the age. He looked considerably more approachable, so I forced myself to relax and invited them in with a broad gesture.

“Welcome to Bangtan Inc., paranormal investigations,” I said with a cheery voice, “I apologise for the wait.” I didn’t offer them any explanation because, well frankly I didn’t have one, and I found that people rarely asked for more details for fear of looking rude.

“Good afternoon,” the man replied pleasantly, but the older woman stayed silent. She didn’t look very happy with us, but by her presumed son’s nonchalant attitude, I supposed she might have just been one of those ladies.

“Terribly good weather this afternoon,” the man continued, looking out to the sky which was a light steely grey, but the temperature was pleasant and stray rays of sunshine did make it through. I smiled at him and nodded.

“Quite, though it is supposed to get colder. After all, we are nearing the end of September.”

I offered to help with coats, but the lady let the man help her, and he seemed more than happy to help himself with his own, so I just waited for them to hand them to me so that I could hang them up. The lady seemed to be pleased with that at least, and I was glad I maybe turned around the fact that they had to wait outside for such a while.

The heels of their shoes clicked on the floor as I led them down the hallway with another broad gesture to follow me. I saw them both look around with wide eyes, taking in the old grandeur of the house. With a bit of a sinking heart I recognised open surprise in their eyes, and they were no doubt shocked that hybrids lived so well.

Momentarily I worried for what we’d have to hear from them today, but I didn’t have much time to ponder that, as we rounded the corner into the brown room and got hit with the sight of the three hybrids waiting.

Compared to the disaster I left behind me, now they looked perfectly put together and professional. Namjoon’s shoulders weren’t as stiff as before as he gave the newcomers a very enchanting smile, immediately charming the pants right off of the lady who seemed to have melted into a blushing schoolgirl upon being met with the wolf. Discreetly I thought to myself that I perfectly understood her.

Seokjin stood next to him, as handsome as ever, while Hoseok, now also considerably calmer, stepped forward with his hand outstretched, a blinding smile splitting his face almost in half.

“Welcome! My name’s Jung Hoseok, we spoke on the phone,” his voice was smooth and cheery, and as my eyes slid downwards, with relief I saw that he indeed did put on shoes.

The usual pleasantries took place, and I left them to it, only getting a little startled when Namjoon gestured towards me as I fussed in the corner about the chair I dragged over before to take notes without interrupting and said: “and that’s our assistant, Ms. Y/N.” With a slightly awkward smile I shook their hands as well, and the atmosphere relaxed a little.

Just as I was looking over the notepad just one more time to make sure everything was ready for me to write down, another call of my name startled me into paying attention to the interaction.

“Y/N will bring it right over!” Seokjin just said, and upon my confused glance, he gestured to the empty table. The tea kettle was gone, I belatedly realised, and I jumped to my feet and scurried off into the kitchen.

Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook were all sitting around the dining table munching on something, probably sandwiches as Yoongi made those quite often when we whined about being hungry, while the man himself stood by one of the kitchen windows smoking.

I ran in, scaring the shit out of the three eating hybrids and earning a chuckle from the tiger, while I panicked and looked around while whisper-screaming “tea!” the whole time.

“Calm down, darling, it’s here,” Yoongi walked over to the kitchen counter, the teapot sitting there and mocking me as I sulked over to the black-haired man.

“Why’s it even back here?” I asked him, now considerably less frantic as I watched him put the kettle on, his quick skilful fingers arranging new teabags and fresh biscuits on to the tray. He scoffed, but it was a fond sound. He often sounded that way when talking about Seokjin, though you’d never get him to admit it.

“You know how hyung gets,” the tiger teased, a light smirk playing on his face, “in the time it took you to walk from the door to the sitting room he managed to panic that the tea would already be tasting bad and thought it would look better if you brought over fresh one.” There were some giggles from the dining room table, but I found I didn’t want to turn away from Yoongi working in the kitchen. So, I kept my eyes glued to the man, slowly taking in how his tail started swishing around in much more playful manner than it usually did.

And I knew I was in trouble, because he’d never miss a chance to tease me, especially not in front of the maknaes. Especially not in front of Jimin, that little devil.

Yoongi poured the hot water into the decorative teapot, arranging it onto the tray for me to carry, and as he turned, he reached over to pet my hair, taking the moment to curl his fingers right behind my ear slightly, as if he was going to scratch there but changed his mind.

I flushed, terribly so might I add, and the bastard smirked. I felt my ear twitch needily, the little traitor, and I mentally scolded it.

Grabbing the tray, I ignored everyone in the room and stomped my way back to the brown room, pointedly not looking any of the three other hybrids in the face, which I knew was noticed by the way Seokjin was trying to conceal his laughter by turning away.

The clients thankfully seemed blissfully unaware, distracted by the refreshments, and I took the moment to decompress into my seat and stubbornly keep my eyes on my notes, even though I saw the way Hoseok curiously glanced my way and grinned upon seeing how red I was.

Quickly the atmosphere sobered though, as the two incomers finally settled down into their chairs, ready to share their ghost story.

“So, Mrs. Carter, you’ve mentioned a spectre in your garden, yes?” Seokjin started, trying not to sound too eager, as that usually scared normal folk away. We had to get every little detail out of them though, and that wasn’t easy. Not just because they didn’t see much, but because they generally didn’t like to talk about apparitions.

As if not mentioning them would erase the danger they posed out of existence.

“Well, yes,” the lady, Mrs. Carter, drawled out with a thick posh accent, “It is in the back of the garden, yes, been there for decades too.” The man nodded, and that was quite a shock to us.

“For decades?” Namjoon asked, absolutely flabbergasted, “have you never thought to get rid of it before?” The old woman simply nodded, clutching the walking stick in her hands, habitually drumming her fingers on the polished wood.

“I didn’t particularly care for it,” she answered again in that slightly detached way of talking that wealthy people sometimes adopted, “It’s been just me and my husband for a long time, and we knew not to go into that part of the garden, and all the staff leaves before sundown as is law.” She shrugged, and the man sighed, pinching the root of his nose.

“I’ve been telling mother for years to do something about it,” he told us, exasperated while the woman seemed cheekily unperturbed, much in the way that spoke of just how old the argument truly was, “It’s just plain dangerous and irresponsible.”

“It wasn’t doing anything to anyone,” she replied stubbornly, “but now my nieces have started visiting. Even with all the precautions, I cannot let it stay. Children never listen, especially to those things that you stress the most that they need to listen to. I need the garden to be safe for them.” She seemed to melt a little at the mention of the little girls, something warmer creeping into her gaze as she glanced at her son.

We all sat there and listened to them go back and forth quietly, taking in the details – and each of us seemed to have different questions. I was mainly amazed how she spoke of a very dangerous ghost as if it was just a tenant paying rent to use her garden, and not the accident waiting to happen it truly was.

Hoseok had other concerns, and that’s why he was the one asking the questions.

“Wasn’t doing anything to anyone?” he enquired, leaning forward to them in interest, “Would you be able to describe it a little? Or even if there are any feelings connected to the haunting? Does it have any habits?” The barrage of questions that spilled out of him clearly surprised and overwhelmed the duo, and they looked to each other for help.

“Feelings?” was all that Mrs. Carter said in the end though, looking to the fox confusedly.

“Well, like for an example, when you are in the area, do you feel a certain way?” Seokjin jumped in, sensing his packmate was likely getting a little too excited again, “Do you feel uncomfortable and unsafe? Do you feel sad?”

“Hauntings can sometimes influence our feelings,” Namjoon carried on, explaining gently to the two humans, “It can help the operatives guess the type of the spectre, or its strength and motives. If every time you walk through the part of the garden you suddenly feel unsafe, it could speak of dangerous intentions. If there only is a sudden wave of sadness, it could mean a weaker shade.”

The two visitors sat in silence for a moment, pondering over their experiences with the haunting, while we sat there and waited with bated breaths.

Getting details out of human adults was always the hardest part of these initial interviews. Children at least usually were a little more sensitive to the unknown, sometimes even seeing the apparitions clearly, but adults were mostly blind. They could only rely on the emotions that gripped them while encountering a ghost, and those were normally drowned out by fear and panic.

Not that anyone could blame them – even operatives had that instinct to turn and run, we’d be insane if we didn’t.

But given that they seemed to have been aware of this haunting for decades, there was hope a little more information would come out of them.

In the worst case scenario we could swallow our pride and ask whether she currently hired any hybrids on her staff to ask them, though hybrids not involved in the PI business hated to be associated with it. Our supernatural senses hung above our heads like curses, and some just wanted to be as far away from that as possible, yet unable to escape it fully.

“Well, I suppose it doesn’t feel too friendly, but I’ve never felt in any danger,” the old lady drawled out, voice a little thin as she was lost in her own thoughts and memories. Her son seemed similarly drowned in his own musings, sitting silently beside her with a pale face and a strange look.

“Have you ever seen it?” came Seokjin’s next question and the lady snorted in good humour.

“Of course I haven’t seen it, how could I?” her answer was amused, but it still ruffled some feathers, as I saw Hoseok’s smile twitch on his face in slight annoyance. Seokjin stared at her, incredulous, though she was very oblivious to that with her face buried in her teacup. Namjoon once more chose this moment to step in and smooth the situation over before Jin’s patience ran out and he reverted to his usual steam-roller self.

“Well, yes, we aren’t expecting you to see it clearly, but humans sometimes report seeing a little,” the wolf inserted himself into the tense atmosphere, “it doesn’t have to be a full apparition, but maybe a shape, fog or even spots of darkness, anything like that can be helpful to us.”

The woman hummed, once again reverting into her memories to search for anything to tell us, but by the pinched expression on her face we could all already tell that if she ever saw it, she’s already forgotten or supressed it from her mind.

My ears fluttered as they caught the quiet sigh of disappointment let out by Hobi right before he started preparing to ask more questions that would most likely lead nowhere, as was usually the case with older humans. My eyes were still glued to Mr. Carter sitting woodenly next to his mother though, and just as Hobi opened his mouth, without thinking I jumped in.

“Mr. Carter, have you ever seen it? As a child?” The man startled at hearing his name, and the entire room’s attention was suddenly on me. I flushed for a moment sensing the other hybrid’s eyes, but I took the chance to speak even though I probably wasn’t supposed to.

Redirecting my gaze back to the wide eyes of the surprised human, I could see some cracks of guilt in his expression.

“Of course I haven’t, young miss!” he rushed out, face reddening and twisting slightly as if I gravelly insulted him, “Children have no business chasing after ghosts, and I knew that!” I chanced a glance at my employers, all of whom seemed very interested in the current conversation, no doubt sensing the opportunity as well.

Namjoon gestured for me to continue, and I breathed out in relief before turning to our guests again.

“Well, of course, I am not doubting your common sense, but as Mrs. Carter said a few moments ago, children often find these things curious. Ghosts and the supernatural, the more you discourage them, the more they want to see,” I argued softly, trying to talk him away from the edge he psyched himself onto.

In that moment even though he must have been at least fifty years old, there was something very boyish in his face – that second he turned back into a little kid, afraid of the consequences of his parents anger after breaking one of their rules, and I knew I struck gold. Children rarely listened, which was unfortunately why they died of ghost touch so much. It has always been a very sad statistic, one that Mr. Carter no doubt almost added onto himself.

He took one guilty look towards his mother who has been watching him with a curious glint in her eyes, not unkind but definitely exasperated at knowing her son was tempting fate like that without her knowledge, but she still gestured for him to tell the truth.

With the aura of a scolded schoolboy he turned back to the room and sighed.

“It was when I was sixteen,” he started sheepishly, face red now from embarrassment more than the anger of getting caught red-handed, “the ghost just appeared the winter prior, but I was away at my boarding school. When I returned, I was informed of its presence and the back part of the garden was closed off for safety. I was curious, though.” I nodded at him, to encourage him and soothe the sting of childish foolishness.

“Trust me Mr. Carter, that’s very normal,” Namjoon stated kindly and gave the man a smile, one that had even me relaxing in my chair, tail curling along the chair legs in search of a cozy cuddle, which I stubbornly ignored, just as I did anything else pertaining to the strange reactions these men managed to bring out in me. Especially the kind wolf and the cheeky tiger.

“Yes, indeed, children are always drawn to things and places like that,” Seokjin joined in and poured the man another cup of tea, “Even we got up to similar foolish shenanigans. Some of us never grew out of it.” The last part was pointed towards those who listened in, and I could almost hear the complaining grumble from Jungkook and Taehyung sitting in the kitchen as they argued over who invited more trouble.

Schooling my features, I looked back to the somewhat appeased human and watched him grow more comfortable in the armchair.

“I did the stupidest thing I could think of,” the man admitted, “I sneaked out during the night. It was early autumn, just like it is now, and I crept through the gardens towards the back-end corner, where it was seen. At first there was nothing out of ordinary. It was pretty cold outside, but it was September, so I thought nothing of it.”

I hummed non-commitally, jotting down what he was saying into my notepad which was slowly filling up. Hobi cleared his throat, but otherwise listened to the story with unrestrained focus.

“Well, that didn’t last for long though,” if the statement wasn’t ominous enough, the look of sheer terror that crossed Mr. Carter’s face was definitely sufficient, “I mean, to this day I am not completely sure what I saw. At first there was nothing, but then I suddenly started feeling unprecedented fear, absolute panic and terror, seemingly without a reason. I stood in the middle of the garden, alone as far as I knew, paralysed with horror. I didn’t know what to do. Then it started to appear. I noticed that there was a spot of darkness that felt unnatural, but slowly it turned into a vague shape. I couldn’t see many details, but it was a man. I watched it slink closer for a few seconds before the panic managed to override my body and I stumbled away. I’ve never tempted fate like that again.”

There was a moment of silence as the information shared sunk in, only broken by the quiet scratch of my pen as I wrote the details down before I forgot. When I looked up, I could almost see the wheels turning in Namjoon’s head and the calculations Hobi and Jin were making in their minds.

“So that’s why you insisted so much about us getting rid of the visitor,” the old woman mused finally, breaking the spell with her sad voice, “I’m sorry we never listened to you.”

“You said you saw it slightly, would you maybe be able to tell me what kind of clothes the man was wearing? Any guess about the period?” Namjoon’s questions shot through the tender moment, and it was obvious the wolf was miles away, probably thinking about the trip to the archives he’d have to make after this visit.

The guests didn’t seem to be too ruffled by his slightly awkward interruption and the man dipped back into that terrifying memory.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can give you anything more specific,” he stated apologetically, wringing his hands out in his lap, “but they were definitely what I would describe as old-timey clothes. Like a Victorian gentleman maybe.”

Awesome, so it was a vindictive Victorian man-ghost, those were always so much fun. I added the information onto the paper and hummed, the three other hybrids taking over the conversation once more and asking for some details, details we were always hoping for but rarely managed to get out of people.

Suddenly, the rest of the visit was over in a flash. Hoseok and Seokjin discussed money, and the lady seemed more than happy to pay us whatever to make sure her garden was safe for her family, especially after her son’s tearful admission that he himself came a little too close to death when disobeying her word.

As they were filing out of our house, slowly shrugging on coats while the four of us stood there and watched with polite awkward smiles, the man turned to me and leaned over discreetly.

“I’ve always felt so much shame for what I did,” he confessed, “I never really went against my parents. At the time it felt like a long overdue rebellion, but it almost ended with my death. I was so stupid, and when faced with danger, I just froze helplessly. At least it thought me to stray away from dangerous situations.” I gave him a gentle smile, hand automatically rising to pat at his shoulder to comfort him.

“Mr. Carter, trust me, kids just are that way, you weren’t any worse or different from heaps of other teenagers chasing a little adrenaline,” I assured him, thinking back to my own stunts that I pulled in the seemingly endless acres of haunted woods around our little village, “You got lucky though, you left the encounter alive. But don’t beat yourself up over freezing up, that’s a common side-effect of a sighting. Operatives are susceptible to it as well and it takes years of training to not get affected by it.”

The man looked to me in surprise and I was honestly shocked he wasn’t aware of such a thing. Didn’t humans learn about visitors as well?

“Were you not aware of that?” I asked with a melodious giggle, easing the human a little before he sheepishly shook his head.

“No, I always assumed I was just a special breed of coward,” he admitted quietly, the statement getting lost under his mother’s fussing as Namjoon offered to help her down the steep damp stone stairs, the woman accepting his arm with a blush and shy smile, which was an expression especially alien to her face.

“No, it’s called a ghost-lock and it’s common, besides there’s nothing cowardly about being afraid when coming face to face with death,” I whispered conspiratorially, bumping our shoulders together like we were naughty school-mates sharing a secret, “only a fool wouldn’t be scared.”

A youthful expression crossed his face as he grinned at me, and suddenly he looked nothing like a worried fifty-year-old father of a couple of girls and everything like a cheeky boy whose burdened heart finally got the rest it needed.

His fingers flew up to his head, tipping an imaginary hat in my direction as he thanked me for my kind words and for our services, before he turned and jogged down the stairs to catch up with his mother, who was already half-way to the gate, still hanging onto Namjoon’s strong frame.

“- you know, I was against my husband in that regard, and I’m glad I disagreed with him,” she was just chattering to him, and the wolf wore an awkward smile on his face, a quiet discomfort oozing off of him as Jin and Hobi walked woodenly next to her.

“I always told him, I have nothing against those hybrids, and they’re here in the neighbourhood,” the woman continued on totally unaware to the rising unease of her companions, “why drag ourselves through the city, when we can just walk down a couple streets! But he’s a stubborn man, that Jacob of mine. Well, I’ll be proven right, just like I always am, when he meets you and finds out that you’re such stand-up gentlemen!”

There were some half-hearted mutters of thanks, the three men exchanging wide-eyed stares before Mr. Carter finally caught up and took over, grabbing his mother’s hand and gently pulling her away from the tall hybrid, to the wolf’s relief. I saw a flicker of displeasure at being separated from her new-found young love, but she quickly found her own footing and suddenly very speedily made her way towards the gate and out on the street.

I watched them go amusedly, seeing the three flustered hybrids standing there and looking off after the spirited old lady. Well, at least she was one of those old people.

thank you so much for reading, and i hoped you liked the chapter! don't be shy and let me know what you thought <3

Taglist (open): @borahaetelevision @socksfirst1 @shakespeare-in-the-park7 @iwishiwasrichasfuck @authorpj

@bangatanily @sassy-snassy @booksintheheart00-blog @bangbangcon @kiki-zb

@luvian-art @ldysmfrst @jinsleftairpod @futuristicenemychaos @mar-lo-pap

@canarystwin @sleepyrene @cerulean1riz @mysteriousgeminizone

@sweetplaidfestivalstudent @afangirl91 @mama-riyon @uniquecutie-puffs @livi101ful

@singukieee @jenartejk @i-like-puppy-mg @anne4sweet

#bts fic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #bts ot7 #bts poly au #bts hybrid au #pfyg series

26 notes · View notes