#more job and more personal life and vacation for all of like three days before i got SICK

[gorgongorgeous]

EXPLICIT / ~7.5k words

Wolfwood could ignore it. Or, well, maybe he could have. If this were any other city. Any other night. Any other song, even, because it’s one that Vash knows—Vash, whose eyes light up even behind his stupid glasses, even more bright cyan than the neon, than clear desert sky at high noon. Because that’s the problem. Has been all along. That it can’t be, could never be, anyone other than Vash the goddamn Stampede who looks at him like that.

Between the start of Julai and the end of it, Vash and Wolfwood see if either one of them can get drunk. Or: a last supper, of sorts.

(aka Vashwood Reverse Bang post time at last let's funkin goooooo)

[sistertotheknowitall]

Masterpost

“But to the BatFam? That is just Some Guy. A random dude - if you will.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m missing my spleen.”

“Oh cool, yeah, missing organs suck. I’m missing a kidney and part of my liver. Oh! And my gallbladder but that was more of a necessary evil, it was like, poisoning me or something.” Danny was so focused on applying pressure to his wound (and maybe being a bit too light headed) that he didn’t notice how silent his friend had gotten. Like-wise the comms had gone equally quiet as Gotham’s vigilante family realized that they knew very little about this kid.

It was concerning how quickly they all started to see him as a friend considering it was them as vigilantes he interacted with the most. Tim was the only one who saw him frequently when out of the suit because he was a regular at Danny’s day job. (He worked as a barista in the coffee shop Tim favored.) The others saw him occasionally but more often than not it was just in passing. Steph, Duke, and Dick had to stop themselves from approaching him on the street.

It was odd, one day he had just moved to Gotham, seeming to appear out of nowhere, and then the next he was a constant presence in their lives. Usually armed and ready with a concerning or odd quip, it had started with him being another victim of the city’s petty criminals and had snowballed from there.

Now it wasn’t like the bats saw Danny everyday, but it was expected that he would cross paths with at least three of them before the end of the week. They ran into him more often than any other Gothamite, including the criminals and rouges they fought.

At first the constant meetings by “coincidence” was suspicious. If he wasn’t the one being saved from a mugging, kidnapping, or city wide villain assault, then he was near by and trying to help.

(“Trying to help” usually meant drawing attention to himself so the original victim could escape. Once it had meant Danny armed with a baseball bat against four grown men. Bruce and Dick have tried to talk to him about putting himself in harms way but the kid is surprisingly elusive when he wants to be. Yet, even when avoiding Batman and his eldest, Danny could be found on the patrol route of another family member.)

But honestly? The guy seemed just as exhausted as they were of seeing each other. By the twelfth time in a month, Danny had accused them of stalking him.

The background check Bruce and Tim had run came back clean and he never seemed to be involved in the various criminal activities. He was just there, a weirdly unlucky bystander. So as far as Dick and the others could see, Danny was a completely normal dude. He just said strange things and wasn’t intimidated by them, he actually made it a point to be unhelpful sometimes. When trying to learn his name he gave them the run around for two months. (“I know about stranger danger. I don’t care how often you say you’re the ‘good guys.’ I’m not falling for it.”)

On one memorable occasion Danny had disappeared for a week and a half. When they started to assume the worse, he popped back up behind the counter at work. Tim had relaxed significantly when he entered the shop to Danny organizing pastries in the display case. Once he’d placed his order, the young CEO asked Danny if he’d been on vacation. To which Danny had just sighed and told Tim “I wish, but no I was called to court to handle some affairs I couldn’t get out of.” (After a check to see if Danny had gotten charged with something and coming back empty, Tim had concluded that it was an odd way to say he had had jury duty.)

Thinking about it now, outside a stray comment or two, Danny didn’t talk about himself or his life. They knew he didn’t have a good relationship with his parents, “they were much more goal oriented than that joke of a kidnapper, but I think drugs do that to a person.” (It was still unclear if he meant his parents were kidnappers themselves or on drugs.) They knew he had an older sister who would “kill me again if she finds out I was in another bank robbery.” They also knew he was, possibly, depressed after last week’s comment of “is it considered murder if you’re already dead but, like, still alive?” (Damian had saved him from a drug ring but after another “baby ninja” comment the young Robin had threatened to give Danny back to his would-be murderers.)

Dick knew Danny was a weird guy who never wanted to elaborate on the things he said. (Jason was still confused on what he meant by “rotted milk soul.”) That didn’t mean the comments themselves didn’t say a lot about him. And tonight’s comment, accompanied by the prominent and jagged autopsy scars, said more than Danny was probably willing to share.

Part one

[g4rvez-r3id]

Back To You

Ex! Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU Reader

Synopsis: Spencer finally realizes that he wants you to stay and that he loves you and he proves to you just how much he does.

Category: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Warnings: 18+ MDNI established past relationship between spencer and reader, spencer being a lil shit, reader being depressed, cursing, mentions of Lauren arc, maeve arc, Grey’s Anatomy spoilers 4x17 “Freedom” and 11x21 “How to Save A Life”, heartfelt talks, love confessions, kissing, smut warnings: soft!dom spencer, cunnilingus, spencer is packing, praise, he whimpers (idc WHAT y’all say), unprotected sex, creampie (find a better word for this pls), a lil bit of aftercare and that should be it(?)

Author’s Note: here it is, the long awaited part three! sorry y’all i lowkey struggled to write this lmao, i hope y’all like this end to the 3-parter hehe 🤭 hope it was worth the wait! <3

part one part two

Spencer Reid was utterly bewildered when he headed into work that following week and saw that you didn’t show. That wasn’t like you. You were always at work, no matter what. Sure, you had a few sick days here and there and after your guys’ breakup, you’d taken a couple of days off but you were into work about a day or so later.

He chalked it up to your guys’ previous conversation. The one where he pushed you away. And he knew you needed time to deal with that. So, he went straight to work and didn’t think anything more of it.

But then a day turned into a few. And before he could march to Garcia’s lair and ask to track your phone down because he was concerned — and it didn’t help that his mind first went to you lying in a ditch somewhere — he instead went to Hotch and asked if maybe you were taking vacation time.

Thankfully, Hotch had told him that you indeed were taking vacation time but that you hadn’t gone into why you needed to.

But Spencer knew why.

He’d felt horrible about how things ended in the parking garage. He knew it was his fault. And he wanted to go make it right… with you, he just didn’t know how. And Spencer also worried that going to see you would just make things worse.

All he could think back to was when you guys dated. Things seemed so easy being with you. You understood the workload, since you’d had the same job, you let him ramble and listened to him — even when you weren’t dating anymore. And you were just such a good person and a good friend, no matter the cost. (The cost being his relationship with you when you hid the fact that you knew about Emily’s fake death). He didn’t think he’d ever forgive you for that. But now, since Maeve, since everything, since you were there for him, he was willing to finally push all of that aside and beg for you to come back to him.

He knew you were a hard person to convince. You held grudges like he did, which was why you two were in this mess now. But Spencer knew, eventually, you had to come back to work. But then he thought about it.

The chances of you transferring to a different unit, to a different city, maybe even to a different state because you could stand to see him any longer were high. Like previously stated, he knew you. And he knew from when you two were together that once your mind was made up, there was no changing it.

But he didn’t want you to. He hated that now he was realizing this, but now, he had to march down to your apartment and tell you how you truly felt. That he really didn’t want you to go.

And damn it, he was gonna do something about it right now.

You wondered if you’d ever recover from the hard blow Spencer Reid hit you with. It was like a punch in the gut, the fact that he wouldn’t let you in. It was to be expected, that he needed time to recover himself. But it hurt that he pushed you away, even though you knew that would happen.

Since what happened with Spencer in the parking garage, you had called in sick from work for a week or two. It wasn’t until Hotch literally texted you and asked if you were okay and if you wanted to formally request the month off to do so.

You hadn’t gone anywhere, you weren’t on any vacation and you weren’t seemingly blowing off work. You just needed time and right now, seeing Spencer in the office wouldn’t make it any better. This is what you would do, you’d wallow for a short amount of time and then move on.

Although you wouldn’t really move on. You’d pine silently and wait for the day you stop having feelings. It’s what happened with Spencer before and it’d likely happen again.

So, you sat in your living room, re-watching Grey’s Anatomy for about the third time. The men absolutely sucked in this show. You were wearing your sweatpants and a white tank top with your hair looking like a rat’s nest. You showered last night but unfortunately didn’t have the energy to blow dry your hair so it dried over your pillow covers and you woke up the next morning with your hair looking absolutely atrocious. You slumped on the couch, stuffing your face with chocolate ice cream and frowning at the screen as Meredith shows Derek she’s ready to commit to their relationship by designing a floor plan for their home. What’s the point when he’s just gonna die anyways? Someone always dies and someone always gets hurt.

You only planned in sulking on your couch for another day but you certainly didn’t plan on someone knocking outside your door rapidly.

“No one’s home.” You grumbled as you took another scoop of your ice cream from your spoon into your mouth. The knocking continued once more. “Go away!” You demanded. But the knocking wouldn’t let.

So, you groaned, pausing the TV and getting out of your blanket, putting your ice cream to the side and walking towards the door. You look through the peephole and scoff when you see who’s at the door.

“No fucking way.” You say loudly for him to hear. “Y/n, will you just open the door, please?” Spencer pleads with you. “Why should I let you in when you’ve never bothered to let me in?”

Spencer closes his eyes as he curses to himself. He supposed he deserved that. He says your name again as he rests his palm on the wood of the door. ���Please, just open the door. Can we talk?”

“What is there to talk about, Spencer?” You question, crossing your arms and you choose to stand your ground, deciding not to open the door. “Open the door, please. I’d rather your neighbors not hear.”

You roll your eyes and decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. You unlock the door and open it. “You have two minutes. Two.” You lean to the side so Spencer can walk in to your apartment.

You quickly check your watch. “You’ve got,” You click your tongue. “A minute and fifty-four seconds remaining. Make it count.”

“I should’ve asked you to stay.” Spencer started. “I should’ve asked you to stay a long time ago. But Maeve… the whole thing with her… it broke me. And maybe I’m beyond repair and maybe I will never be over her, but you should not have to suffer because of it. I’ve… been… an ass.” You knew it was serious when he cursed. He rarely ever did.

“Strong beginning.” You comment, your arms carefully crossed over your chest in defense. Spencer noted to this being something you did every time you two fought.

“I wanted you to stay. Trust me, I did. And still do. But I can’t burden you with this. With my… pain. You’ve done so much for me already. Taking care of me, making sure that I was okay, being there for me when I was heinous to you after our breakup. We barely spoke a word to one another before then and you knew that but you were still there. I guess I just… don’t know how to do this. I… I was given another chance and I… couldn’t save Maeve. I’m scared that if I let you in… it could…” Wind up the same way. He doesn’t finish but you figure that’s what is about to come out of his mouth.

It made sense now. Why he pushed you away. He didn’t owe you an explanation, because you knew why he did. At least, later you did. But your heart couldn’t cope with the heartbreak and you asked for the time off anyways. You needed it. At least, your heart did. You owed her that much.

Spencer looked defeated as he stood in front of you. Like he couldn’t lose the one thing that seemed to fit in the puzzle piece of the void. He knew he didn’t deserve you. And he would be okay with the fact if you had just kicked him out this second.

Instead, you stood in front of him and your shoulders sank out of defense mode and into a shy tone. You thought to yourself for a moment before you turned back to him.

“Spencer,” You start hoarsely and walk towards him slowly and carefully like he was ready to break like glass. “How come you let me into your apartment after what happened to Maeve? You could’ve let JJ in or Garcia.” The burning question lingered for so long, you had taken the opportunity to ask here and now.

His answer was simple. “Because you’ve seen me in that state before. It’s so easy to mask my emotions in front of JJ or Garcia or Morgan. With you, I knew I could feel anything and not have you look at me out of pity. Because you’ve been there before.”

You swallow at that answer as you walk over to him, face to face with him. (Of course, you’re a tad shorter than him so you have to look up at him a bit).

You extend a hand and caress his face with your palm and he nuzzles into it like a cat to a scratch post and closes his eyes tightly as he grabs your wrist, as if he’s wanting to keep your hand there. Your eyes lilt down from his eyelids to his plump lips and you shake your head.

“Where did we go wrong?” You ask in a whisper. And you’re almost afraid for his answer. You’re entirely aware of where you went wrong. It was your fault, after all. And suddenly, you don’t want to hear his answer as he parts his mouth and looks into your eyes. “Never mind,” You say. “I remember.” Your tone is somber.

And Spencer knows why. Sure, he was upset and honestly, he had the right to be after you kept the fact that their close friend had faked her death and you knew about it but didn’t tell him. But he was willing to put that all behind him just to have you back in his life again.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” He said and you looked up at him with wide eyes at this. “It was a long time ago. And I can’t stand not having you in my life any longer.”

“Spencer…”

“I love you.”

The words fall out of his mouth so easily. “I love you, so much. I know we didn’t get it right last time but I want to, this time. I have always loved you.”

“But Maeve?” You ask.

“She was my past and I’ll always be grateful for the time that I had with her, even if it was short.” He admits but he takes your face into his hands, so tenderly as he looks you in the eyes. “But you… I’ll be damned if you’re not my future, Y/n. I’m sorry for how I’ve been. I’m sorry for how I’ve acted. You’re stuck in my head and I just… can’t seem to get you out of it, not that I’ve ever wanted to, anyways. But, Y/n, I’d go back to you. In a heartbeat. And my head is the most clearest it’s ever been so don’t you dare accuse me of just saying this on a whim. Because it’s not a whim.”

Spencer Reid knew you too damn well. He’d broken your heart in two, sure, but when it healed, it continued to still beat for him. You’ve always loved him and you never stopped. He held the darkest parts of you but he never once tried to fix them, he embraced them.

“I love you.” He said, out of breath. “Will you let me love you again?”

You stare up at him and instead of answering, you lean impossibly closer and your lips graze his and you don’t know who leans closer — you or him — (you later confirm that it was definitely him) and your lips connect.

The coffee taste is familiar in his mouth as his lavender scent fills your nostrils and he holds your face closely as he swallows you whole. Eventually, breathing becomes a chore and Spencer takes this opportunity to set you on the kitchen counter as his lips connect with your neck and you close your eyes as you feel all of him all at once.

Your hands explore his back, trying to shake his cardigan off of him — no matter how sexy it looks on him — and you are successful as it comes off of him and lands on the floor, revealing one of his dress shirts underneath.

You’re too busy admiring his body when he takes a moment, looking at you and taking in your features. He’s been here before. You’ve been here before. He’s home.

Realizing what he’s done, he knows you deserve better than being mauled on your marble counter and looks at you for permission before hoisting you to his waist and finds your bedroom, letting you get down and lay on your bed as you look at him, only in love and admiration.

He begins to unbutton his dress shirt and tear off his slacks and you take this opportunity to shake out of your sweatpants and your hair out of your elastic hair band. He’s left in his boxers and you’re left in your top and underwear.

He stares down at you, eyes full of lust and love and he smirks down at you and God, that should not have been so hot.

Spencer leaned down to kiss your lips and then kissed your neck and your collarbone. He shakes you out of your top and kisses each your breasts and then your bare stomach and then gets to his destination and with nimble fingers, pulls at the waistband of your underwear and pulls them off, flinging them across the room and looks at you as your rest yourself on your elbows so you can see the show.

You feel as his hot breath sigh into your pussy and you tilt your head back, dizzy by the sight in front of you. You had to have been dreaming. Surely, this is God’s cruel way of hurting you even more by making you have a vivid sex dream about your ex-boyfriend. (Or was he your boyfriend again?)

But when his tongue licks a stripe over your entrance, it’s confirmed. You’re definitely not dreaming, but definitely on Cloud 9.

He licks at your hole a couple of times before putting his mouth on your clit and making figure-8s with his tongue and your dig your hands into his messy locks and pull him impossibly closer.

And with his hands, he takes them out of his hair and holds them, interlocking his fingers with yours and Jesus, you might cum too soon from the sight alone.

The one thing you always liked about Spencer in bed was his expertise on sex despite not being very experienced himself. After your first time together, you were surprised to find out he’d only done it one other time because of just how damn good he was at it.

You wanted to hold out for him, but the way he looked at you and then moaned into your pussy, “That’s it,” He said. “Cum on my tongue.” It made you cum. Hard. You gasped out his name as he lapped up everything you gave him.

Eventually, he let go of your hands and let you take breather as he climbed over you and stroked your face with his hand. “Are you okay? We can stop here.” Ever the gentleman, even after giving you an orgasm that made you think you’d gone to heaven.

“You are crazy if you think I’m going another day without having your dick inside of me.” You joked and he lightly chuckled as he removed his boxers and you eyed what you were working with.

Also, another reason you were surprised he wasn’t lucky with the ladies in the past before you. He was well endowed despite being lanky and skinny.

“Wait,” You stop before he can press his cock towards your pussy and he divides his attention right onto you, willing to end this right here and now because you stopped him. “Are you okay? Because if you want to stop, we can.”

His heart swells for you even more. He understands why you’re asking him. But he was true to his word. His head was the clearest it’d ever been.

“I’m the greatest I could ever be right now,” Spencer admits. “I’d only ever want to stop if you wanted me to.”

Your eyes bore into him as you smile at him, caressing his face with your index finger, touching his plump bottom lip with it and you see the essence of you on his face, something that reminded yourself that he belonged to you. And only you. “Ready?” He asks, breaking your focus from his lips and you nod as you gasp, “Yes.”

Spencer breaks his focus away from you for a moment as he slides himself towards your entrance. You gasp out as you feel him sheath himself into you and his fingers interlock with yours beside your head as he bottoms out into you. Your body welcomes him and it’s as if your body remembers his.

“God, you’re tight,” He told as he shut his eyes and tilted his own head back because of how good it felt. How good you felt. “You feel so good.”

“So do you.” You manage to get out and his head is tucked into your neck as you hear his whimpers as he rocks into you, his only wish to make you feel as good as you’re making him feel.

He mumbles into your collarbone, trying to take you to the edge with him with his words.

“You take me so well.”

“You’re so beautiful.”

“I love how you tighten around me.”

The praise had made you rock your own hips back into him as you plead, “Harder, Spencer, please.” You beg and he commands at your wish as he fucks you into the bed even harder now. Your whines are more high-pitched as your nails dig into his back as he rails you and your bed begins to creak loudly.

“Let’s—Let’s cum together,” Spencer tells. “Where do you want it?” You gasp, “Inside, inside, please.”

You beg him, wrapping your legs around his torso and he plows into you even harder and then you feel him shudder and that’s send you over the edge as you feel his hot seed paint your insides.

You stare up at the ceiling as he collapses over your body, his hand still tightly perched into yours and his hot breath panting over your collarbone. Your hand rakes over his now sweaty chocolate locks and you hold him close to your body, not ready to let him go. It’s so peaceful as you both sit there in the silence.

But eventually, all good things come to an end and you whimper as he pulls out of you due to how sensitive you are. You close your eyes in slumber as he leaves the room, muttering something to you before he leaves and the next time you open your eyes, he’s back with a bottle of water and a warm rag to clean you up.

He takes a moment to gawk at your pussy and his cum leaking out of you before cleaning you up. You flinch at the contact at first, but he assures to you that it’s mandatory to clean you up after sex.

When he’s done, he expels the rag into your hamper and tucks you in under the covers, shortly joining you after he does so.

You turn on your side, facing him and going to hold by his torso and Spencer smiles to himself as he wraps his arms around you and quickly leans over to grab the water bottle and you open your eyes as he opens up the cap and puts the bottle to your mouth, wanting you to at least take a sip. You do so and he smiles as he puts the cap back on and then puts the bottle on the desk next to the bed.

Spencer looks down at you, playing with a strand of your hair and shortly rubbing your back soothingly, drawing out mathematical equations on your back and gazing lovingly down at you. When you woke up tomorrow, he’d be right here, right next to you and he wouldn’t leave until you were begging him to.

He meant every word he said to you. He loved you and he wanted to make it work with you again. The past was what it was — the past. And you were his future. He let you go once, over something that you had no choice but to keep from him and he let his pain get in the way of your relationship. No way was he about to make the same mistake again.

Over a few months ago, you two were barely speaking, only talking to each other when your jobs depended on it. And now, he couldn’t go another minute without speaking to you.

He got you back and this time, he had no intentions of letting you go.

[katarinawwwland]

A really good try

Pairing: Kwon Jiyong x f.reader 

Warnings: Established relationship, marriage au, discussion of pregnancy, sexual content. 

Words count: 1,2

Summary: You and your husband want to have a baby

Author’s note: English is not my first language. So I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes. I hope you enjoyed it.

After Jiyong's comeback, he decided to leave the media for a long period. During this time, you have already gone on vacation to Jeju Island. And one hot evening, you were walking along the beach after dinner. 

"Baby, do you remember Do Hyun's daughter?" Jiyong suddenly asked, breaking the calm silence. 

"Are you talking about Seo Yeon? Of course, she's so sweet. Why do you ask?" - looking at your husband, you immediately remembered the daughter of your mutual friends, colleagues of Jiyong.  

"Yes, she's really very sweet, she looks so much like you, I notice it all the time … You know, I've been thinking about it more and more lately," your man replied thoughtfully. 

"That I look like little Seo Yeon?" you asked, laughing. 

"No, I mean about the kids. About the possibility of having a little copy of you, the same beautiful little angel that we will take care of."- the smile did not leave his face. Your heart has melted at your husband's words. Of course, you've already talked a lot about children, but only as plans for the future. You two had very busy jobs and you were often on the move, but now you had a break and the two of you decided to isolate yourself from all the hype for an indefinite time so that Jiyong's words sounded like a suggestion. 

"Or a little copy of you if it's a boy…Or it could be twins, you and me, but small," with a wide smile, you continued to reason. 

"THE TWINS? Baby, it's fantastic, I'm going to be the happiest dad." Every word gave you goosebumps, and you were the happiest at that moment. 

"Honestly, I mean, we could have started trying. We don't have a job right now and won't be in the near future, we're left to ourselves."

"Trying? I always thought it was an unspoken synonym for people fucking a lot," you said with a laugh. 

"Oh my God. You're actually right," Jiyong replied, giggling. 

"Well, you know, I like this prospect."

"Don't talk like we don't have sex several times a day."

"Jiyong, remember when you had a comeback, we barely had ten minutes in the morning before you left for filming."

"Hey, and when you were on the move, we only had face time at all," Jiyong continued defensively. 

"We're really arguing about this," you laughed. 

"There's no time to waste, princess." With these words, Jiyong squeezed his hand on your waist and you walked towards your villa.

It's been two weeks since your conversation and since you've been diligently trying to make a baby. It was crazy, you didn't have any problems with your sex life before, but now you could have sex several times in the morning, then again in the shower, and always before going to bed. Despite your husband's frenzied enthusiasm, you felt better than ever, the most beautiful, the most desirable, and the happiest.

You have already arrived from Jeju and were going to visit your friends Young-bae and Hyo-rin. today. You were making up in front of the mirror while your husband came up from behind and put his hands under your blouse, wrapping them around your waist and slowly leaving kisses on your neck. 

"Baby, if you're ready, then you'd better just wait for me and not distract me, so I'll get ready even longer." To which you received only a satisfied mumble, the man didn’t listen to you at all, but on the contrary continued to pull his hands to your chest and gently squeeze it. 

"Ji... we've already done this three times, and it's not even evening yet. And the guys are expecting us by six," you said almost pleadingly. 

"Princess, we'll do it quickly." That's the only person you couldn't refuse. 

Of course you're late.

At about 7 p.m., you arrived at your friends' house, making excuses for the frantic traffic jams. You had a wonderful dinner, you sat discussing everything from work to vacation. Baby Dong has been sitting on your lap all this time. You and Jiyong were crazy about that kid, just like he was crazy about you. Whenever you were visiting Young-bae and Hyo-rin, you couldn't tear yourself away from this baby.

"Kitten, what is it?" - you felt that the boy started twisting and fidgeting. 

"Jiyong." - the boy started pointing at your husband. 

"Do you want uppy?» - with emotion on his face, Jiyong took the baby in his arms. "Do you want to play? Let's go to your toys."- with these words, the men went to the children's room. You and Hyo-rin are left alone.

"Sometimes it seems that you come to us only because of the child," the girl remarked with a smile. 

"Yes, it is," you said sarcastically. 

"Y/N, can I ask you a question?" You unconsciously tensed up from such a question. 

"Of course."

"Are you pregnant?"

"Haha, no. Why?" - you let out a nervous laugh, how could she know that you were diligently trying to make a baby. 

"It's just that something has changed in you and in Jiyong, too, I know it sounds strange, I just assumed that you could be in a position." Her words sent warmth through your body. 

"You're going to be great parents."

"Thank you, Hyo-rin.". There was silence after that. There was no discomfort or awkwardness, on the contrary, it was the most comfortable silence.

Towards nightfall, you realized that you had stayed up too late and it was time to return home. All the way home, you discussed your cozy evening. 

"Y/N, when we were playing with Baby Dong, it was as if I realized that this was exactly what I had been working for all my life. I'm so looking forward to our future baby," your husband said, not taking his eyes off the road. 

"Oh Jiyongie, you will be the most wonderful father." - your hand gently touched his cheek.

Later that night, your husband was already lying in bed and waiting for you from the shower. For some reason, you have an irresistible desire to do the test, despite the fact that you did it yesterday. The minutes seemed to drag on forever. 

"Baby, are you coming soon? You've been there for an hour." - your husband's indignation could be heard even in the bathtub. And before he could finish the last sentence, you were flying out of the tub holding a test in your hands. 

"Baby!"

"What? What is it?" - he was puzzled by your enthusiastic cry. It was already clear from your face, from your voice, and even from the test in your hands, but Jiyong can't quite believe it. 

"Baby, I'm pregnant." - tears of happiness appeared in the corners of your eyes. 

"Y/N, baby, I love you, I love you so much." You couldn't believe your luck.

The two of you were almost asleep, but something was bothering you: "You know, when you left, Hyo-rin asked if I was pregnant?"

"Seriously?"

"Yes, that's what prompted me to take the test, it's so strange. She also said that we would be great parents."

"Well, if she wasn't wrong with the first one, then the second one is also true."

And tonight, falling asleep in the arms of your beloved man, carrying your baby under your heart, you felt like the happiest woman in the world.

[sugudoe]

➥ ──── MOMMY MILKERS ‼️ BITCH. ღ

gojo satoru is the greatest mind behind MIB, also know as MU IOTA BETA, although is a inside joke the name Mommy mIlkers Bitch, because he thinks there is a large amount of members with huge breasts. Satoru is filthy rich and spoiled, he was a rainbow baby and an only child for some time, everything he wants he can have. his parents only asked him to go to college for business administration, so one day, gojo’s enterprise can be in his good hands. he doesn’t mind, had no plan of life instead of just enjoying it, but he hopes he can still have a lot of vacations all around the world. that’s actually his favorite thing to do, just get up from the bed and travel. gojo and the MIB were pretty popular on campus, but what took their social medias sky rocketing was the brilliant idea to create a tik tok account for their fraternity, showing their parties and random funny moments. of course, what everyone really wants to see, is their fucking beauty. he is the older adoptive brother of megumi, who is too young for fraternities, but gojo thinks he can bend the rules if megumi wants to get inside (gojo can’t & he doesn’t).

geto suguru is studying graphic designer by his choice, although his parents disagree, they can’t say no to him — after all, they are scared for their son and want him to be happy. truth is, geto and gojo had been best friends since high school, and it’s no secret that suguru tries to hide about his long battle with depression. things are getting better as of lately, specially now that his two younger sisters, mimiko and nanako, are allowed to have a cellphone and had been calling him daily. geto can be found in three different places, besides the MIB’s house — the art room of college, choso’s tattoo parlor and in the garage with sukuna, although for only a few minutes before he himself leave with his bike, that he calls his love. he is the vice-president, and helped gojo with the ideas to create the house, he also is the reason why nanami got inside because suguru knew they would need someone that knows how to be an adult, he got surprised with nanami’s true personality later, but hey, he is doing a good job, no complains. his favorite companions outside of the members are the pets and shoko, he adores her very much, she is also a best friend from high school that cared for him in his most vulnerable depressive episodes.

zen’in toji comes from the respected family zen’in, but unlike his relatives, toji does not give a fuck about reputations and traditions. that has casted him aside, something he is no longer sad about, he actually loves that he can do as he pleases. he study physical education, has always had a talent for fights and training, and likes the idea to be able to teach others some day. his first students was his two little cousins, maki and mai. he used to work as a partial time private trainer, but after tik tok found out, it was getting too uncomfortable with those new clients, so he started to train his friend sukuna and his little brother, yuji, the payment is extraordinary. he has a pitbull puppy named kitana and she is one of the pets at the house, and his pride and joy. he got inside MIB because gojo wanted to have him, toji refused at first, until satoru showed him the private gym of the house and toji was sold right away. he gets weirdly along with megumi whenever the boy comes visit, they bond over their dogs and strangely looking resemblance.

nanami kento is not the MIB’s president, but he stills acts like it, and gojo is more than happy to let him have that unofficial position. gojo makes the parties and pick the box with candidates names, nanami takes care of the expenses and pick the best to get into, to avoid fame seekers and people with bad reputation — some thinks he started that after gojo put sukuna inside the house. nanami takes care of the formal parts, that’s mostly influenced by his finance majoring, he spends most of time inside his room studying or bakery hopping to experiment new pastries. don’t let this take you away from the truth, this man is not a calm, educated and study inclined person, he is half-french and therefore gojo has to be careful, or nanami will start a revolution and put satoru out of the house. he easily gets distracted by his interests and his anger, and since MIB becoming a hit on the internet, he is extremely mad. nanami cares a lot about his private life, he blocked gojo on twitter after satoru quoted kento’s account and he gained a lot of weird followers — he blocked most and went private. nanami is very found of ino, and as the initiation process of complying to the older members’s request, he had to shave his head (suguru demanded as a revenge for cutting his waist long hair to his shoulder) ino was quite sad, but did it, nanami did as well to support the youngest. surprising everyone, because nanami loves his long blonde hair as well. everyone was touched, so gojo cut his as well, kinji dyed on ino’s choosing color (purple) and even sukuna did as well, but red — all was done by kinji’s partner, kirara.

kamo choso is the middle brother of sukuna and itadori, through their shared mother. he is studying computer science, but everyone knows he is doing just to get the degree, give to his mom and go do his own thing — tattoos! ever since high school, he started to work in tattoo shops as receptionists, then he started a course and now he owns his own mini parlor near campus, named garu’s tattoo, because he is often compared with the character (it has absolutely nothing do to with the fact he used to let his younger brother do his hair the same way, everyday for high school). choso doesn’t trust anyone but himself to make his own tattoos, but he folds easily when yuji asks to try, so he has a mini spider-man doing peace signs on his calf. it’s his favorite tattoo. he got into MIB because he started to be friends with his favorite client, geto, and suguru invited him. choso’s mom separated sukuna’s father and got with choso’s dad, then she left and met itadori jin, he accepted all her sons as his, and choso secretly hopes one day jin will adopt him. he likes that MIB went viral because now he has more clients, what he doesn’t like is how everyone views him as a bad boy, when he is clearly a sweetheart.

shiu kong is a transfer student from south korea, and just like nanami, he is majoring in finance, following his dad’s and grandad’s steps. his family is very rich and stoic, but shiu came to the world in a completely different way. he likes to crack jokes, smoke a cigarette every hour, and to make his family hair get white earlier. the last post he has on instagram is a video of him doing hearts, but purposely he posted because it looked like a middle finger. shiu is best friends with everyone, but mostly sukuna and toji, and outside of it he’s friends with shoko and uraume. he thinks it was bound to happen to be a hit on the internet, because of his funny and chaotic way! his twitter is where he shows his true self, actually, the header is his own picture from the day after fucking a neighbor before moving out of the apartment to MIB’s house. it’s been a month and a half and he’s feeling the effects of not getting laid in some time, not because he doesn’t have options, gojo says he wants someone to match his freak while doing a dance — he slapped gojo after that. the reason for he to be in MIB is because he thought it would be funny to piss off his dad, it worked.

hiromi higuruma is the most normal person in the house, which is something to worry about. his free time used to be spend traveling to rural areas of japan, now he stays in the sofa with achilles, his cat. he used his money to make a game room in the house with lots of pool tables and videogame consoles. he likes to bet with everyone, and he keeps winning. talking about that, everyone avoids to argue with him, at first he cared too much and would own all the discussions, specially when he would bring out the projector and show evidence of how he was right — don’t fucking argue with a lawyer. nowadays he is much chill, that’s obviously because he is in exam season and keeps inside the house or library, he left the group chat to focus on his projects and the court hearings he now attends. nanami is the one to send him all the messages he needs to see and to lend his phone in case hiro wants to add something to the chat. hiro was obliged to be part of MIB by his best friend, nanami. oh, the classmate in his twitter’s bio is utahime iori, she doesn’t now his twitter and he doesn’t know hers.

ino takuma is a lucky motherfucker. he is the youngest at the house and the newest member, out of many candidates, nanami chose him, and for that he is eternally grateful for his senior. majoring in history and having a talent for photography, ino likes to be outside all of the time, he takes pictures of every bright thing that seems to copy his happy aura, everyone finds him adorable. nanami tried really hard to keep him away from gojo, but it happened eventually, satoru is the one that matches his freak and they both kept adding fire to the other crazy ideas. they are the ones doing weird challenges and pranks on the tik tok account, and nanami keeps grounding them for it. besides hiro, achilles adores ino and is often on his lap. takuma introduced the movie “house bunny” to the boys once and now gojo wants to have the “sacrifice a virgin” party, after he found out ino is a virgin. he is embarrassed, but still thinks i’ll be awesome to slide down a fake volcano and kiss a pretty girl. . . maybe more.

ryomen sukuna is. . . something. everyone knows that one of the reasons MIB’s tik tok became a hit is thanks to his quick appearance, after all he was already know on social media before, ryomen is a professional boxer, as a way to let his anger issues dissipate and avoid hurting his brothers or friends, he punches sand bags with toji and later, willingly strangers. he is know as “one punch man” because one time he was seriously pissed with his dad, went to the ring and with just one punch, won the fight — he hated it, he needed more punches throw. ryomen is majoring in forensic science, when asked why he says is because he wants to know how to get away with a murder properly, of course he is joking but the stoic face sure scares everyone. adding to his curriculum, he also likes to repair cars, MIB’s garage is filled with everyone’s cars and there is space for sukuna’s three vintage babies, he always finds some problem in them whenever he needs to clear his mind. sukuna’s best friends are uraume, shoko and shiu, because they all don’t give a fuck about his anger issues and treat him normally. he is adored by kinji’s partner, kirara, and he actually adores them as well, but he avoids them because he can’t say no to kira, and they try to make ryomen a model. sukuna is, with choso, the target of people with the “i can change him” mentality, he adores it because it’s fucking funny the desperation. he would rather eat glass than admit, but he’s only in MIB because choso was scared to go alone, and he wants for yuji to come as well when he gets of age, he thinks his younger brother will like it. he is a good brother, he just doesn’t say much, good thing choso and yuji understand him and love him either way.

kinji hakari is the only member who is in a serious relationship, if anything, he is the only one getting any action. he never had any plans of being in college, only following his partner and luckily discovering a talent in fashion school, that was what got gojo satoru’s attention, and he begged for hakari to be part of the MIB. he almost declined, but thought it would be cool, and with his baby’s permission, he accepted. kinji brings more chaos to MIB, he likes to be the cause of his friends headache in the group chat, and also to get blackout drunk in the parties and make out with kirara on every surface. he got a lot of attention on his social media as well, but he does not give a fuck, because he thinks everyone is trying to get into his pants and he is a loyal dog man, so he says no no interactions with anyone besides his friends and love.

✶ 𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: all the appearances, are just for reference, there is no fancast just pics with the characters vibes. you can imagine them as you please. but i did edited sukuna’s hair so applause. i know nanami is half danish, but i want the revolutionary gene of france on him. TOJI’s AND GOJO’s ig has miD instead of miB, pretend you didn’t see it, pls.

✶ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: please comment if you would like to be tagged. all the chapters will be linked in this post and with the first tag @minzxec @d3jecteddoll @shuuji71 @emilyywhyy @ducky1232 @mfcherry

[penkura]

where you belong [1/10]

Summary: As Luffy's big sister, you've viewed it to be your job to see him become King of the Pirates in place of your absent parents, even as you try to find where it is you belong in the world. You never really expected to draw the attention of Trafalgar Law in the process.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!reader

Warnings: Discussion of feelings of abandonment, age gap relationship (four years), brief secret relationship, mentions and heavy refences to sex, mentions of alcohol, typical One Piece stuff. Other warnings to be added if needed.

Notes: Hi, it's me again! Another fanfic here for you all! When this goes up, I'll be on my last day of vacation before I fly home, so I hope that you'll enjoy this! I know Straw Hat Reader x Law is popular, and I wanted to write my own, but with the Reader being Luffy's biological older sister. So for this, Reader is three years older than Luffy, 20 at the start and 22 after the timeskip, making Law four years older. I personally like older men, and age gap fics are just delicious reading material for me (within reason, nothing illegal).

Note 2: This is NOT the Law with vitiligo series. That one is actively being planned but will be separate from this one.

“And I’m gonna be King of the Pirates!!”

Luffy standing your tiny dingy boat worries you a little, but you still grin at him and nod.

“Hell yeah you will be!”

“Your turn! What’re you gonna do while we sail??”

Rolling your eyes, you make Luffy sit down while you stand up.

“Easy. I’m gonna chronicle your journey and write the greatest story ever told!”

Your younger brother watches you, tilting his head when you don’t continue. He believes there has to be more you want out of life, and tries to make you say what else is in your plans, what you have on your mind.

“And?”

Taking a breath, you nod. Of course he knew you had more, it’s Luffy, he’s been by your since he was just a few weeks old. Things you’ve said over time, to him and Ace, they’d both known for a long time what you’ve always wanted to find once you went out to sea.

“And find where it is I belong.”

+!+

Your arrival in Sabaody was a trip, in more than one way. You'd been excited to explore the place, hoping you could pawn your younger brother off on Camie, Pappag, and the others so you could have some time on your own to shop the stalls, maybe with Nami and Robin, turn it into a girl’s day. Of course, though, nothing could be so easy when your brother is the captain of the Straw Hats. You all find yourselves at the human auction hall, Nami willing to spend all the money possible to save Camie, but it makes you itchy while being there. You cringe to think about the things that happened in this place, how many people had been sold to Celestial Dragons. Your and Luffy's loss of Sabo due to the actions of one had severely soured your opinions on them.

You scan the crowd in the auction house, scratching at your arms which never seem to calm down while the rest of your crew discusses their plan to save Camie, and you end up locking eyes with another pirate captain there, unknown to you at that moment but somehow familiar.

A furry white, spotted hat, dark hair you can barely see, oddly enough you think his facial hair is attractive, and those yellow eyes that you almost would believe see right through you.

Trafalgar Law simply stares at you, realizing you’re a Straw Hat when he recognizes the rest of your crewmates. After a moment of fidgeting slightly you give him a nervous smile and a wave, which he returns with a nod before turning back to the auction stage as they continue to call bids on people.

Weird girl.

Strange guy.

Although she’s busy watching for Camie to be brought out, Nami still leans into you when you pull on her sleeve and start to whisper. “You see that guy in the white spotted hat?”

“What about him?”

“I think he’s Trafalgar Law, captain of the Heart Pirates. He’s more attractive than his poster makes him.”

Rolling her eyes, Nami pulls her arm away from you. “I don’t have time for you to be horny about some guy.”

“Wha—Nami!! I’m not! I’m just saying.”

She doesn’t listen to you anymore, focusing back on waiting for Camie and sending you to watch for Luffy, just so you don’t get distracted by the attractive enemy captain and defect to another crew.

You swear you never will, but do as you’re told to watch for your brother. Maybe one day you’ll get to properly meet Law, you’re quite curious about the young man.

+!+

“Another one?! Are you kidding me, Dragon?!”

You’re three years old when you wake up to your grandfather yelling at someone in the middle of the night. Normally Garp is sure to keep things quiet so you, his sweet little princess angel granddaughter, can sleep peacefully. He’d leave early in the morning once your nanny showed up for the day, returning before dinner so he had the evenings with you before you had to be off to bed, to do the day over again the next morning. It’s rare for you to stay up late or wake up early, but the few mornings you’ve woken up before he left were some of Garp’s favorites.

You quietly slip out of your bed, blanket in your hand as you rub your eyes and go to the door, opening it just enough to see what’s happening. Garp is there with someone in a green cloak, you can’t see the other person’s face, but listen anyway.

“He’s the last one, there won’t be anymore.”

“You said [Y/N] was going to be the only one!”

“Things happened.”

“Obviously something happened, babies don’t appear out of thin air!’

You tilt your head, the man in the cloak catching your eye, which makes you shy away behind your doorway, glancing away before back to him as he looks to Garp again.

“Take care of them.” He goes to leave and is gone before Garp can even stop him.

“Dragon, wait--! That…damn idiot.”

“Grandpa?”

Garp is surprised to hear your voice, turning around once he closes the door, giving you a smile while you start to focus on the bundle he's holding.

“Hey there, princess, what are you doing up?”

“I heard yelling…”

Nodding, Garp apologizes as he picks you up, letting you settle on his free arm. “Sorry about that, angel. Just… an unexpected visitor.”

“Oh…”

Garp sees you staring more at the bundle of blankets in his arm than at him, and he sighs a bit, taking you to the living room and setting you on the couch, before showing you how to position your arms as he sets the now squirming bundle in your arms.

“[Y/N], this is your baby brother. His name is Luffy.”

How unexpected! You’ve never thought about having a sibling, just enjoying your childhood and life with your grandpa, but seeing this tiny little boy in your just as small arms makes you grin while you look at him. Dark black hair and just as dark eyes, scrunched up little face and tiny hands in fists while he starts to fuss and whine.

“Luffy…”

+!+

Luffy…

You hope your prayers aren’t going unheard, that Luffy will return to you safely. Ace’s death has long passed, but you’re more worried about your little brother than anything else right now. You’d both been sent off to Amazon Lily by Kuma, but after they’d all agreed to let you both stay, and Boa Hancock seems to have fallen in love with him, Luffy left you there to go rescue Ace, that was nearly three weeks ago now, you think. You want him back, both of them, but want to see Luffy more than anyone else.

“Luffy’s returned, [Y/N]-san!”

“He has?!”

Marguerite nods and you quickly get up from your seat and run after her to wherever Luffy is. The newspapers kept implying he was dead, you were terrified you’d lost him and Ace that day, no updates from anyone apart from the papers cheering for the Navy’s alleged victory, for the deaths of Ace and Whitebeard. The Amazons, all so kind to let you stay while Luffy went to try and rescue Ace, were unsure of how to help you the last two weeks once Ace’s vivre card burned to nothing in your hands and made you nearly inconsolable.

Despite that, your prayers hadn’t gone unheard.

Once you’re at the beach that Luffy should be at, you notice immediately the big yellow submarine with the word DEATH on it and it freaks you out more than anything. You don’t know who owns it, but when you catch sight of someone you’ve only seen in person once, you worry that he’s done something to Luffy. You don’t say a word, but someone in a jumpsuit (boiler suit you think?) calls out “captain” just in time for him to turn towards you as you shove the older boy to the ground, placing yourself on top of him and your knife to his neck.

Part of you wishes it was poisoned right now, just in case this Trafalgar Law has done something to your brother.

“Where’s Luffy?!”

The knife you have at his neck doesn’t phase Law even a tiny bit, it’s the fact that someone so much shorter and smaller than him was able to catch him off guard and shove him to the ground the way you did. You’re angry for some reason, giving him a nasty glare but look like you’re about to cry on top of it, as he just stares at you, his crewmembers shouting for you to get off their captain before he raises a hand to stop them.

“Who—”

“Tell me, where is my brother?!”

Oh so that’s what’s wrong, that’s who you are. Whether you’re related to Luffy by blood or by ritual cup like Ace was, Law doesn’t know, but he’s sure you want reassurance you haven’t lost two brothers in one day.

“Are you [Y/N]?”

You turn your head to look over your shoulder at Jinbei, still glaring. “Who’s asking?!”

“I was friends with your brother Ace, he told me about you and Luffy while we were in Impel Down.”

“He…did?”

You’ve calmed down so quickly hearing Ace’s name, retracting your knife just slightly, while Jinbei explains things to you. You don’t move off of Law though, listening quietly, fighting the desire to cry more. You’ve done enough of that, you don’t want to anymore today.

Law doesn’t even try to move you off, knowing, like Luffy, you’re emotionally hurting right now. He doesn’t want to risk you slicing his neck either, even as Jinbei finishes telling you everything Ace did, and you still don’t move or look at Law.

“Ace hopes you find what you’re looking for.”

You clench your jaw a bit at first, before smiling sadly and nodding, thanking Jinbei for the information before Law speaks up.

“If you get off me, I can take you to Straw Hat-ya.” 

You blink, finally looking back to Law, and you feel your face burn with a blush when you realize your position and scramble to get off him, apologizing the whole way while he shakes his head. Once he’s on his feet, Law let’s you onto the Polar Tang and leads you down the hallway to the infirmary, updating you on Luffy’s condition the best he can with the knowledge he has.

“If he pulls through this, the most you’ll have to worry about is his mental health.”

“Mm.” You nod, grabbing Law’s arm as he stops to open a door, making him look back at you. “I apologize for shoving you down.”

“I’ve been through worse,” Law shrugs, you could tell just from looking at him, though he does smirk a bit at you, “Never had a girl push me down and hold a poisoned knife to my neck before though.”

“It wasn’t poisoned,” you almost shout, but keep your voice down to not wake Luffy, “…this time…”

He almost laughs, but when you see Luffy finally, you’re instantly but his side, taking his hand and trying to keep yourself from crying seeing him in such a state. He’d been injured badly before, but never like this, never this close to death.

“Luffy…oh Luffy, I’m here, Lu,” you brush his bangs away from his face before kissing his forehead, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, I should’ve come with you…”

Law doesn’t bother you for the next several minutes, stepping out so you have some privacy while you make sure Luffy is all right, your quiet prayers that he wakes soon and heals quickly don’t go unheard by the surgeon of death, who thinks back to his own sister and the prayers he’d once prayed for her health as a child.

As an older sibling, he gets it. While he still doesn’t know yet if you’re related by blood or sworn siblings, he does see how much you care for Luffy, and for your sake he hopes your captain wakes sooner rather than later.

+!+

You spend the next two weeks in and out of the Polar Tang, checking on Luffy and praying over him to wake soon, Law being the one to take you in and lead you back out most of the time, even though you’ve memorized the path already. The next time you leave Luffy to continue recovering, the friends you and Luffy have made from Amazon Lily have shown up in the time you’ve been with him, bringing food and drinks for you all. As you walk over to where he’s seated, Law offers you a drink that you reject with a shake of your head, sitting on the other side of the tree and bringing your knees up to your chest, hiding your face in them.

“Any signs he’s waking up?”

Shaking your head, you sigh and lean back, looking at the people around to distract yourself from worrying over Luffy.

“That your crew?”

“Yep. All twenty of them.”

You smile a bit, watching the Heart Pirates goof off while some have their meal and share drinks. It almost reminds you of the Straw Hats and makes your heart ache from missing them deeply.

“You have a nice group there.”

“They can be a handful.”

It makes you laugh a bit, nodding before you decide to stop wallowing and get back up, standing beside Law where he stays seated.

“Think you should hold this for now.”

Law tosses Luffy’s straw hat to you, and you grit your teeth a bit while you stare at it. You had wondered where it was, seeing it wasn’t around when you were with Luffy. You hold nothing but the highest regards for Shanks, he'd been an inspiration for you and Luffy when you were children, he helped end the war and helped Law save Luffy, but how you wish he’d shown up sooner. Maybe he could’ve helped Ace too.

“Thank you, for holding this.”

“Seems important to him, he’s not Straw Hat-ya without it.”

Smiling a bit, you nod. “He’s certainly not.”

“How do you—”

“I’m his big sister. I was three when our dad dropped him off with me and grandpa. We’ve been together almost every day since.”

“I see.”

You’re not entirely sure you trust Law, despite his saving Luffy, but you’re willing to give him a shot. At least let him know a bit about your history with Ace too, since he'd been there when you hadn’t been. Where Luffy asked you not to go.

“We met Ace and another boy when I was ten, and become sworn siblings with them soon after. The other boy died a few months later,” you grip the straw hat a bit tighter, but loosen your hold after being stabbed in the hand by sharp bits of straw, “a Celestial Dragon did it, we’ve not been fans of them since, so Luffy punching that one in Sabaody felt like some payback.”

“That makes sense.”

After a few minutes of silence, you finally realize something and turn to Law, sticking your hand out for him.

“Never introduced myself. Monkey D. [Y/N]. I don’t really use my last name though.”

Law takes your hand after a moment, nodding. “Trafalgar Law.”

“Thank you for saving my baby brother.”

“Don’t thank me until he wakes up.”

As if almost on cue, the door comes flying off the Polar Tang and you both whip your heads over, Law running ahead of you as you follow, and Luffy’s the next thing to almost fly out of the ship.

“Luffy!!”

You’re about to run to him before Law grabs hold of your arm, pulling you to himself and holding you still, even while you thrash around and listen to Luffy call for Ace. It breaks your heart to see him so upset, and you just want to console him, have him do the same for you, while you both continue to grieve for Ace. But Law won’t let you go to him, fear or concern your brother might hurt you while he fights through pain and raging emotions, before he disappears into the forest.

“Luffy, come back!!”

You barely register Jinbei asking what’ll happen if Luffy continues to flail and run off like that, before Law speaks and your heart almost drops to your stomach at the thought.

“If he continues to move around like that he could reopen his wound and bleed out. He’ll die.”

Quickly you turn around and Law isn’t at all shocked to see the tears welling up in your eyes as you grip his shirt, still holding Luffy’s straw hat.

“Don’t let that happen!! Please!! He’s all I have! Luffy is my whole world, I can’t lose him!!”

Unsure of what to do, especially once you lay your head on his chest while you cry, Law hesitantly wraps his arms around you and watches Jinbei go off to Luffy. Maybe he’ll be able to calm your brother down before he really hurts or kills himself.

You’ve both been through a lot the last few weeks, losing Luffy would break you more than losing Ace did to him.

+!+

“I’m sorry I got snot on your shirt.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll wash.”

You glance away and keep your eyes averted while Law changes shirts, having taken you onto the Polar Tang while Jinbei attempts to calm Luffy down. He didn’t fully mean to bring you into his room, but he never let go of your wrist while he led through the ship, making you sit down to hopefully calm you down. You do catch sight of his tattoos, wanting to say something but you don’t want to sound like a creep or a pervert at the same time.

“Why don’t you use your last name?”

Law surprises you once he’s changed shirts, this one almost the same as the yellow one he’d been wearing, but now a dark blue with a furry, feathery collar that you really want to pet, it looks soft. But again, you don’t want to seem like a creep.

For a moment you’re quiet, before you cross your arms and lean against the wall, shrugging.

“Why should I use the name of someone who abandoned me? I only have one memory of my father, and it was when he dropped off Luffy.”

“Your grandfather is Garp, isn’t he?”

“I love my grandpa like he’s my dad…but I don’t want to use my last name.”

Law nods a bit, seeming to understand. You felt abandoned, and wanted nothing to do with your biological father, instead viewing Garp in that light, which makes sense.

He'd viewed Corazon in the same light at one point.

“Your mother?”

“I know nothing about her. It’s like…” You start to bury your head in your knees again, almost digging your nails into your arms, “Like I don’t know who I am half the time…”

He gets that too, the same feelings after Flevance, after losing Corazon and leaving the Don Quixote family, leaving Doflamingo behind. Many times of looking in the mirror and asking “who the hell am I”.

Law is about to respond, before one of his crewmembers yells for you both that Luffy and Jinbei have returned to the beach, and you’re out the door so fast he isn’t able to believe it. He follows you out, not all surprised to see you and Luffy hugging each other tightly once he exits his ship.

Your bond with Luffy would be on full display the next few days, Law truthfully does wonder if he and Lammy would’ve been the same.

+!+

“I met some people who are friends with our dad.”

“You what?”

Luffy nods, giving you this information during dinner one evening, while you stare at him with such a blank look that Law thinks you’ve completely shut down. You didn’t say too much about your dad while you relayed some of your childhood to him earlier that day, apart from your perceived abandonment, but the look you have isn’t a very happy one.

“They’re were some cool people! They helped me escape that prison and…tried to help me save Ace.”

“So they were revolutionaries.”

“Yeah, they…they said they didn’t even know we existed.” Luffy scrunches up his face a bit while you frown, then pat his head.

“I’m not surprised, Lu.”

Luffy makes a face now, one that’s almost disgusted but annoyed but upset maybe. Law swears he isn’t trying to eavesdrop, you two are sitting too close to him anyway, you’re practically pressed up against his side. You both appear to have problems with your father, after the little bit you’ve told him and how you confessed to feeling abandoned by your parents. He wonders briefly is Luffy feels the same, even as your younger brother leans against you, pushing you fully into Law’s arm and making you glance up at him apologetically. He doesn’t move, once again doesn’t push you off, instead shifting his arm enough for you to be comfortable.

When Luffy falls asleep, you finally speak again.

“Luffy met our dad once, in Loguetown”

“Oh yeah?”

“Neither of us knew until grandpa told us…he didn’t even stop to say anything to me…”

“…I’m sorry.”

You shrug, watching Luffy. It still stung to know that, to know that Dragon didn’t even seek you out when he must’ve known you were on Luffy’s crew, that you’d never leave him to do this alone. When Garp told you he’d been in Loguetown that day, it felt like a knife in your heart that you didn’t even get to see or speak to your father.

Law, while he watches you start to drift off to sleep yourself, thinks about his own dad and Corazon at the same time. He had two fathers in the end, who both cared about and loved him deeply, both wanting to protect him as long as they could. He had his mother and Lammy too, you had Luffy and Garp, but it wasn’t enough for you, and it makes sense. To not have that connection with the people who gave you life, Law can’t even imagine how difficult that must be.

He ignores the slight snickers and comments from his crew when they see you leaned against him, even has he slightly tilts his head towards yours, not going all the way to lay his against your own. Even when Shachi makes a small comment about ‘love’ being in the air at Amazon Lily, Law doesn’t open his eyes to respond or even Shambles his friend away.

You won’t see each other again for a long time after this, most likely, so he’s willing to give you some comfort and allow his crew to see him a little softer than normal.

+!+

“Bye, thanks for your help, Traffy!”

Law tries not to grimace at the nickname Luffy’s given him over the last few days, nodding to you both as his crew also shouts goodbyes and wave to you both, you personally sad to see them leave. You’d spent so much time getting to know them while taking care of Luffy, that it felt like you were losing friends again. You’d probably see them one day, maybe as friends but maybe as foes, yet, you’d like to see more of Law and learn about him like he had you.

Luffy notices your face, the sad look it has, then looks back to the Heart Pirates as they start to disappear below deck. You’ve already chosen to stay on Amazon Lily the next two years and learn from the women there how to fight, but even watching you the last couple days, he could see your heart wasn’t in it. You more so loved using your knives and making poisons, he remembers the one he and Ace mistakenly drank thinking it was lavender tea from Makino. You weren’t an archer or a swordswoman, you much prefer close combat and paralyzing your enemies. Your work during Enies Lobby earned you your $25 million berri bounty, the Navy having trouble recreating antidotes from the one you’d left with a knocked out marine, they knew you’d be trouble one day.

With all that in mind, Luffy sneaks up behind you, wrapping his arms around you in what you first believe to be a hug, before he lifts you up and you look at him. He’s got a grin that concerns you greatly as the color drains from your face.

“Luffy.”

He giggles a bit, nodding at you to brace yourself.

“Luffy, don’t you dare.”

“Have fun with Traffy for two years!!!”

He doesn’t give you anymore room to argue, flinging you towards the Polar Tang, making you yell for Law to pay attention, and he barely does in time to catch you, knocking both of you to the ground, several Heart Pirates making sure both of you are all right and that Law didn’t hit his head on anything.

You’re up and holding onto the railing, yelling at Luffy, “You’re an idiot!!!”

He pretends he can’t hear you, waving widely and shouting another goodbye, but to you this time.

Once Law is sitting up, realizing what the hell has happened, he sighs a bit while you look back to him.

“I’m sorry, Trafalgar. You can turn back and I’ll beat some sense into him!”

One of his crewmembers, you’re pretty sure it’s Shachi, leans down to ask him, “Should we? Kinda seems like Straw Hat wants us to take her along.”

He sighs, taking his hat off and running his hand through his hair, shaking his head.

“You can stay.”

“…huh?”

You tilt your head in confusion, Law doesn’t think it’s cute at all no matter what that weird feeling in his chest is, while he stands up and nods at you.

“The Amazons might get angry if we return without permission, so we’ll just…take you along…and then bring you to Sabaody.”

Blinking several times, you’re still confused while some of his crew laugh, Penguin coming up to pat you on the back.

“You’re a temporary Heart Pirate! We’ll take care of you!”

Nodding, Law turns to go below deck.

“Say your goodbye, we’ll be going under shortly.”

While the rest of them follow after their captain, you turn back and see Luffy still waving at you, which makes you sigh and shake your head. You do smile though, you had wanted to continue getting to know Law and his crew, this was a perfect opportunity, and maybe he could help you with creating effective antidotes for your poisons.

“Luffy! Love you, see you in two years!”

“Okay!!!!”

Once you go below deck, Penguin being the one to wait for you in order to close the door properly, he starts to show you around a bit, the rest of the crew happy to see you’re staying with them for now, while Law keeps a slight distance unless he’s asked about something. You looking around and being so impressed by the submarine caused another weird feeling in his chest, and he fights to ignore it, especially when you thank him for letting you stay with a smile, which he waves off with an “It’s nothing”.

It's going to be an interesting two years.

[sunny44]

Surprise

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x mom!wife! Reader

Warnings: just fluff

Summary: Surprising Lewis with little Hamilton’s first time in the paddock.

Lewis and I met in Spain when we were on vacation.

I was on vacation from my job and he was on summer break and by some kind of miracle we met in a bar.

I was alone drinking while my friends were dancing, I was excited that we were going to go out until minutes before my ex-boyfriend had the courage to send me an invitation to his wedding with the woman he cheated on me with.

My mother had sent me a message warning me because the address he knew was the address of my parents' house.

So this let me down completely.

Not that I was still in love with that idiot, far from it, but the fact that he had the courage to invite me made me realize that I have spent three years of my life with that person who didn't even deserve one month of my time.

And that's when Lewis showed up, I guess the fact that he found a sad woman in a bar, drinking alone on a Friday night caught his attention.

That's when we started talking and I as a person completely uninterested in any kind of sport didn’t knew who he was, in fact I only found out months later that we were already talking.

He didn't hide who he was, in fact he told me both his name and what he did, but he didn't specify that he was a formula 1 driver and that he was one of the best ones that existed.

We exchanged numbers and talked for months until he was in England for a race and invited me to go, this was when I fell in love with the sport but also where I realized how much damage it would do to my life just to be seen with him.

People found my social medias which at the time were bombarded with horrible comments about me and my appearance and that it was impossible for him to be with a person like me.

It was then where I became terrified and distanced myself a bit from him because of this. After much insistence he managed to convince me to go out to dinner with him.

That same night he was honest with me, that if we decided to try to have a relationship unfortunately it would be like that, people hating me without even knowing me and telling lies about me.

In other circumstances I would have walked away because this life of being known was not for me, I liked being unknown to the public eye and that the amount of people who would judge me would be less than being the girlfriend of the most famous Formula One driver.

But I knew that if I didn't take the risk I would miss out on one of the best things that would happen in my life, and now I'm sure I would have regretted it.

Lewis and I have been together for 5 years now, and every day I realize how much in love with him I am.

The first years of our relationship were very hectic, the weeks away for races and events, the thousands of messages exchanged during the day and FaceTime calls at night, and those were also the most complicated years of the relationship.

It was like a test, a test to know if the relationship would survive the thousands of lies about betrayal from both parts, the manipulated photos to look like things that weren’t true, the nights of crying and tears for not knowing what to believe even though we were absolutely sure that everything was just a big lie.

I'm sure these years were essential for both of us to learn to trust each other.

——————

It was the weekend of the Silverstone GP and I had lied to Lewis that I couldn't go because I had a lot of work to do, but in fact here was Luke and I in the car heading to the track.

Lucas Hamilton was our 3 year old son. This would be his father's first race that he would be watching straight from the garage.

When we found out that I was pregnant, we agreed that above all, Luke would be preserved from the toxicity of the internet. His fans knew that he existed and also knew his name because when he was born we thought it was only fair that the fans knew about him from us and not from the paparazzi, but they had never seen more than a small body in the pictures we posted.

Lewis had already shown interest in taking the little one to watch him race but I still didn't feel comfortable about showing him to the world, but I knew how much he wanted me to go this weekend and I also knew how upset he was that I couldn't go.

So nothing better than to surprise him with our presence plus Luke's first time.

Toto had helped me with the plan, sent me the paddock passes and let the security guards know that I would be here.

I got out of the car, I put the paddock passes on mine and Luke’s neck and carefully pulled him out of the car.

"Where's daddy?" He asks as soon as I lock the car and we start walking towards the paddock.

"We're going to go see him now okay?" He agrees and takes my hand again as soon as we enter the paddock

As soon as they recognized me the cameras all turned to me and with Lewis Hamilton's faceless son along it was as if the photographers multiplied.

As we were getting close to the garage, Lewis was coming out of it with Roscoe along with him and as soon as Luke saw him he let go of my hand and came out screaming.

"Daddy." Lewis recognized that little voice on and he opened the most beautiful smile as soon as he saw his son running up to him, even Roscoe started barking.

"Hey buddy." He bent down and picked him up on his hip. "What are you doing here?"

"Me and mommy came to see you." He says excitedly and soon he sees me. "I missed you daddy."

"I missed you too buddy." Just then the three of them come toward me. "You said you were going to work."

"I lied, I wanted to surprise you."

"You sure surprised me." He gives me a kiss.

"It's bad to lie mommy."

"It really is, isn’t." Lewis says in a teasing tone. "We're going to have to ground Mommy."

"That's right."

"Are you taking your father's side?" He agrees.

Luke was definitely a daddy's boy, besides being an exact copy of Lewis, even more now that he’s bigger, the only thing that’s the same as me is the eyes, Lewis has dark eyes and mine’s are green.

"Daddy can I sit in your car?"

"Of course you can, let’s ask uncle Toto to give you some gloves too, come on."

We pulled into the garage where Lewis put Luke into the car, after we were together for a while Lewis had to go because the race was going to start and when he won we ran to the front of the podium where as soon as he jump out of the car he came running over to where we were.

And I could have sworn that this race was the most special one for him.

Bonus scene!

Y/nhamilton instagram post

Liked by @lewishamilton, @anthonyhamilton, @mercedesf1, @sebastianvettel and others 91939

Y/nhamilton The best Weekend we had in a long time. Me and Luke had the best time here in Silverstone and there’s nothing better than an F1 race, specially when daddy win the race.

Thanks to everyone that came to support my husband, Lewis and our family really appreciate the love.

Tagged: @lewishamilton

LewisHamilton thanks for everything, you are the best mama and I’m so lucky to have you. Thanks for bringing our baby boy to the race.

Y/nhamilton we love you so much

Sebastianvettel so nice to see the two of you this weekend, beautiful family

Y/nhamilton thank you Seb, we have to plan a meeting with the kids

Yourmom miss you guys so much, the three of you have to come visit. He also looks a lot like Lewis.

Liked by LewisHamilton and y/nhamilton

[hollyhomburg]

Prey Animals (5)

—  Pairing: Namkook, Vminkook, Namjingi, Yoongi x reader, Bts x reader,

—  Genre: Omegaverse, Mafia au, Polyamory au, Found family, Suspense, Eventual Smut, enemies to friends to lovers, Healing & Themes of trauma,

—  Summary: In a world where Beta's are rare, valuable, and often have more than one pack; Beta Min Yoongi does everything he can to keep his mafia heritage a secret from his primary pack. Little does he know he's not the only one who's living a double life.

—  Words: 5.7k

—  Warnings: Hospitals, sickfic, Angst, Hurt/comfort, Humor, Polyamory negotiations, Seizures, Chronic illness, flirting

—  Check in at the end for my notes on this chapter! — 

(Previous chapter)

(3 years ago, Namjoon)

It’s been a little more than a year after Namjoon officially moved Seokjin and Yoongi into his apartment. And although the addition of the pup doesn’t happen overnight, it sort of feels like it does.

Namjoon is not regularly a skeptic, he doesn’t look down his nose at certain tropes, love at first sight, enemies to lovers, the waspish omega that falls into the arms of the big buff alpha brute. But there is only one trope when Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung fall into their lives: neither an old wives tale, a good luck charm, or a superstition.

Good things come in threes.

When Namjoon meets him, he doesn’t know Jungkook will be his omega one day. One day, but not quite yet. The day they meet, Jungkook is just another one of Namjoon’s patients:

The waiting room is full of the smell of sick people, vomit, and a lingering sliminess of blood and antiseptic. Covering up the smell of sour fear and anguish. It’s full of blaring red exist signs and the beep of an overhead alert for a code blue upstairs. Overstimulating to even those who are used to it.

Namjoon doesn’t have to worry, code blue means cardiology, code purple maternity.

A code red? Then he’d be running.

There’s one blond head, one black head, and one tawny waiting in bay 8. All of them look too young to consider themselves packmates and yet they act as one unit when Namjoon calls Jeon Jungkook’s name. He’s got wavy black hair and doe eyes and a strong jawline that he has yet to grow into. A pup still. But not for much longer.

An attractive omega. A pretty one.

Namjoon is just two hours shy of a desperately needed break and 10 hours into his current shift. Exhaustion weighs on his bones like a physical ache. No worse and no better than the other patients. But Namjoon's hoping to be promoted to the head of neurosurgery within the next few years (it will take him 6 months before they offer him the job) and he needs to put in the hours to achieve that goal. 

A goal that comes with things for his pack, a bigger apartment maybe, less hours for Yoongi and Jin, and more good food in the little kitchen. A vacation maybe (they’ve never been anywhere together, that would be nice, wouldn’t it?)  Both Jin and Yoongi like to cook and a bigger kitchen and a larger apartment is high on Namjoon’s lists of wants.

While the omega looks absolutely fine, you’d never guess that judging by the gun smoke and spiced wine scents that spike agitated into the air from each of his alphas. They’re tense, each of them holding one of the omega's hands so hard their knuckles are white.

Jungkook’s hands are calloused, Namjoon notices while he’s taking his blood pressure. Eyes on the monitor and not on Jungkook’s eyes. Staring at him unwaveringly as Namjoon asks his quiet questions.

“Do you lift weights Jungkook?”

“Yes, I ugh, I’m a personal trainer.”

Namjoon hums, it shows, Jungkook’s veins are so good that Namjoon doesn’t even have to check to see if he’s dehydrated. He compliments him on it (weird doctor quirk) and the omega blushes. Looking down an away. “Have you ever hit your head on any of the equipment at work? Or ever fallen during a set. You said you had a seizure, where you working out when you had it?”  

“No, I was at home I was-”

The larger of the two alphas is the first one to speak- when his patient chokes on his own words. The blond one turns his impassive eyes upwards at Namjoon and says nothing. He’s terribly small for an alpha, but his eyes are no less threatening, his glare, although it comes from a sweet face, is anything but blank, it’s murderous.

But Namjoon is not here to hurt their omega, he’s here to help heal him. Namjoon is only too used to dealing with this sort of thing- packmates worried and fussing over their pack members, omega’s nesting around their alpha’s in the waiting room, that sort of thing.

Namjoon feels a tug in his gut. But the tawny haired one is the first one to speak, and Namjoon shoves it down in favor of doing his job.

“If someone had a seizure during…” he pauses, glancing at Jungkook then at Namjoon “Sex- would you be able to tell? And how would we make sure it doesn’t happen again?”

The omega is bright red between the two of them.  the alpha that smells like gunsmoke and glares a bit like the devil might, re-settles his other hand on the back of Jungkook’s neck to soothe him. His shoulders drop from around his ears and Jungkook’s distressed omega scent evens out from rotting flowers back to sweet honey. 

Namjoon’s inner alpha perks up. Lifting its head from folded polite paws.

People smell different when they're sad than when they're happy. Namjoon’s own coffee scent starts to smell like coffee liquor when he’s angry, or too tired to breathe properly or too anxious to think straight. Seokjin smells like curdled milk and wet dog when he's upset or missing them but sweet milk when he's happy. And Yoongi goes all salty and ocean murky when he's miffed that someone's looking at him a bit too long but smells like thick chocolate every other hour of the day. 

The two alphas on either side of Jungkook smell like Gunsmoke (the angry one) and peppery wine (the tall one) or maybe he's just drunk and smells like pepper. Namjoon's first thought is not how to help them- but wondering what they'd smell like if they were happy.  

Huh.

That should be the first thing that tips him off really. He tries not to worry too much about the happiness of his patients, only their health. There are some boundaries that need to be maintained so that Namjoon doesn’t get too attached.

Namjoon pauses to fill Jungkook’s waterglass. He gets two other paper cups and fills those too while he talks about symptoms.

They all look so small and scared. And Namjoon can’t help but send out comforting pheromones- his scent blockers have worn off this long into his shift. It’s just in his nature to want to comfort these three- so lost in a sea of concerned stressed faces and scents. It must be bombarding them. Namjoon is used to how the emergency room smells. The tangle of stressed scents and possible threats.

Their shoes sit side by side, a pair of combat boots, a pair of converse, and a pair of brown leather loafers. All of them have purple shoelaces threaded through. Namjoon knows a pack mark when he sees it. All of Namjoon’s packmates wear Yoongi’s one flannel- trading it back and forth between the three of them.

The three of them lean into Namjoon’s space.

But still, he’s nothing but professional, taking Jungkook’s vitals under the watchful eye of both of his alpha’s. And the small cagey looking one hands over Jungkook’s hand when Namjoon needs to fix the heartrate monitor and lets him take Jungkook in for a scan upstairs, promising that he’s in good hands and really Jungkook is.

He prattles on to Namjoon the whole way up and is Namjoon sure he’s never worked out before, not even a little? How else does he get so strong? Namjoon guides Jungkook into the big machine, trying to soothe his anxiety. Rubbing his fingers on his wrist, his scent gland there small and tender to the touch.

The minutes Jungkook is in the machine feel terribly long, the thudding all around him loud and scary. “Are you still there Dr.Kim?” he asks through the intercom.

“Of course I am, Jungkook.”

“My alpha’s call me Kookie, or Jk, you can call me Kookie if you want. Cuz I’m sweet like one.”

Namjoon pauses, before he clicks the button on the intercom, worried. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”

“No! I’m like this naturally!”

He watches the screen, waiting, tapping his foot, and the technician asks him if he has more important things to do.

Namjoon’s glasses reflect the blue light of the monitor. “Looking after my patients take precedent” the technician scoffs something like ‘looking after huh’ and continues to click away as pixel after pixel comes through.

Namjoon finds evidence of the seizure and others on Jungkook’s MRI.

He gives the three of them a lengthy conversation, spending more time than he ordinarily would on them, explaining the depts of Jungkook’s illness. He hates breaking life-changing news to people. He hates the look in their eyes when it hits them. When they look at him like he can change it or like he might be wrong.

Namjoon is a good doctor, he’s rarely ever wrong.

Telling this omega that he has epilepsy, that he can't drive and will likely have to change every aspect of his life to avoid as many seizures as possible or risk permanent brain damage- sucks. Telling the omega with the bunny eyes and the chubby cheeks that his life as he knows it is over feels like the worst thing that Namjoon has ever had to do. And he had to perform a craniotomy on a two-year-old last week, so he’s got perspective. He books multiple follow up appointments with Jungkook. More than normal.  

It's pretty clear that Namjoon's instincts are having some bearing on his emotions. He usually doesn't care so much. He's had enough people die on him that he can't care the way he used too about people who aren't Jin or Yoongi. It’s not heartlessness, it’s just self-preservation.

But that all goes out of the window when he breathes in their scents. So unhappy, Namjoon can’t not soothe them, can’t do nothing.

“It could never happen again, and it could happen twice every week. There's no way to know how often you’ll have them so you should be extra careful for a little while. No operating heavy machinery or driving and stay away from stairs if you can. You’ve got two packmates to take care of you so that’s good.” 

 I’ve got two packmates too, he wants to say. If yours are any good, they’ll take care of you half as well as Seokjin and Yoongi take care of me.

As if the two alphas can smell a hint of the suggestion that they wouldn’t hang the stars for Jeon Jungkook, they curl protectively around Namjoon’s patient. Even the small one with the blond hair looks protective and large in the small space, sizing Namjoon up like he could be a potential threat. He’s used to this kind of alpha posturing at the hospital when tensions run high and concern for loved ones becomes adrenaline. Any possible threat prompts aggression.

Instincts are fickle things. Namjoon’s alpha does not take his posturing as a threat.

Namjoon’s alpha is pacing and howling in the confines of his head, straining it’s neck to get out out out. He’s a man of science not instinct. No one, not even the other alpha- would be able to tell that Namjoon was feeling anything at all.

But Seokjin would know.

Seokjin would poke at the vein on Namjoon’s neck that stands out when he rolls his jaw and Namjoon would go from feral wolf to puppy and putty in Seokjin’s hands.

Namjoon has always been a dominant alpha. It doesn’t matter much in their small 3-person pack because Namjoon is the only alpha when it comes to Seokjin and Yoongi. But looking at these two sitting here, it feels like it does. The tall alpha- Taehyung- looks at Namjoon but he looks away first. The small patient room is full of the scent of fresh coffee. Namjoon's scent fluffs out through his blockers without any kind of effort.

The two alphas breathe in the scent of coffee- the kind that’s pressed into your hand the second after you wake by someone you love. To Jimin and Taehyung- it conjures up the image happy Saturdays and Sundays, the moments shared in intimacy and half wakefulness. Namjoon likes that he smells like innocent moments.

Even they have to admit that Dr. Kim smells good.

Their shoulders ease away from their necks, and their fear begins to dissipate as Namjoon explains.

To Jimin fear has always been a necessary evil. It feels weird to try and let go of it with Jungkook sick, with the news that everything is going to change (that maybe everything already has). Every few seconds Namjoon’s scent makes Jimin’s body relax, and he has to straighten up again. Namjoon just tells himself that it’s a sign he’s good at his job even though it feels a little too much like flirting to be completely appropriate.

Namjoon has never flirted with another alpha, at least not knowingly.

“Could it also have been a one-off fluke?” Taehyung asks. He’s been mostly quiet, but Namjoon shivers when he meets his eyes. There is something placid about his face, even under the storm of this, the alpha looks mostly calm. He can't explain it, but looking at Taehyung feels like looking at the ocean, scary if you look away.

Namjoon reminds them that he’d found signs of other seizures on his brain scan too. Points them out to them on his tablet, shows a picture of a normal brain to compare. He explains that sometimes the only indication that a seizure is happening could be that time is passing weirdly or that someone is staring off into space for too long.

Taehyung goes pale when he says that. “Jungkook gets that way all the time.” He says the next part quieter, “especially when he’s nesting.”

Namjoon’s breath goes shallow at that, the idea that this omega, this Jungkook and his packmates will never be able to see him nest again without worrying, without asking and doublechecking. Something that is routine and a necessary part of all omega’s and their biology and pack intimacy will never feel normal to them again.

When they leave- Namjoon gives them his personal number because he’s so concerned about the three of them. So vulnerable and unprepared to help Jungkook navigate the world like this. None of them are older than 25. And while they're not not adults, Namjoon's instincts scream at him pups pups pups. 

Surprisingly it’s Jungkook who uses Namjoon's number the most often.

He wants to talk to Namjoon about it all- the new definition of his life inside his medical condition. No bright flashing lights and limited screen time. A set bedtime every night and a new diet that’s helping considerably but still feels so restrictive. Jungkook can’t do anything without thinking about it, weighing out calories and estimating carbohydrates. Pricking his fingers to monitor the blood sugar spikes.

“I would kill for some pretzels- or just- some fucking bread. Do you know how good fresh bread is when you know you can't have it Joonie?”

Namjoon doesn't scold Jungkook for the nicknames anymore. Not after the first few calls when Jungkook's natural earnestness melts away Namjoon’s better judgment. “Too much salt bunny” Namjoon hears Taehyung say on the other side of the phone.

“I will kill you for carbohydrates Hyung.”

Namjoon does the best he can to ease the young omega's worries. And slowly- they talk about things other than Jungkook’s condition. Though that remains a soft topic, “I didn’t have any this week hyung! Maybe they’re finally turning a corner, aren’t you proud of me?”

“Of course, I am bunny- I’ll always be proud of you.”

In the background of the call, he hears the words ‘hot doctor’ and ‘hopeless’ faintly. A happy little giggle he’s started to recognize as Jimin’s when Jungkook shoots him a scandalized “Hyung!”

He and Jungkook talk until late at night sometimes. They text a lot too, so much that Yoongi and Jin tease him about it, “What are you smiling at your phone about?”

Like they don’t already know.

Jungkook fills the spaces when Yoongi and Jin aren’t there; the days after Namjoon’s had a night shift and both of his pack mates are working. Jungkook’s voice fills the air in Namjoon’s room. And when he closes his eyes, it feels like he’s really there.

Namjoon wants more than he would ever willingly admit. Wants more than he’d ever think through if Seokjin told him no.

But Seokjin only ever teases Namjoon for smelling strong and ask to see Jungkook’s Instagram. “Wow he’s like- model hot.” Namjoon had just pecked his cheek, dispelling any anxiety or insecurity.

“If he’s model hot then you’re ancient Greek statue hot.”

“Joonie.”

“Do you want me to stop calling him? I will.”

Seokjin’s thumb had hovered, a photo of the three of them there. The like count is what bothers him. Even Seokjin gets more than 50 likes on his photos of Namjoon and Yoongi. But these three pups, they only have 11 people in their corner. Two alphas and one omega.

This omega, this Jungkook must be special.

Seokjin’s heart beats hard. Flicking through the photos. Namjoon lets him look through their texts too. Jungkook is old fashioned, he prefers to call. ��He’s got seizures Namjoon.”

“I know hyung.”

“He’s sick, and you can’t cure him.”

“I know.”

But packs are built this way, they all know that.

He talks to Jungkook’s alphas too. Mostly Taehyung who studied literature in undergrad and works at the large public library in the city center, not far from Namjoon’s hospital. One morning he even finds a coffee waiting at the check in desk for him, a cup of coffee and a not scrawled on the side in elegant handwriting.

Thanks for looking after Koo. He’s very special to us.

How many nicknames does this omega have? Namjoon saves the note, keeps it in his jacket pocket.

They share a lot of the same interest in poetry. Taehyungs the one who rescues Namjoon from the sound of static when Jungkook falls asleep on the line and talks quick, about stories and plot lines and the newest viral book that they can’t keep off the shelves that he’s just been dying to read but won’t until no one reserves it.

(Namjoon might leave it at the front desk in the library, might wrap it in a little purple bow)

The next time Jungkook calls he opens the phone to, “no fair! You got Taehyung a present before you go me something! It’s supposed to be omega’s first Hyung.”

“Okay bunny okay, what would you have me get you?”

“I don’t know.” Jungkook had hesitated, “something for my nest maybe?” Namjoon’s breath had gone short, and the shouting through the other end of the line was good natured, goofy, but still indignant enough that Jungkook’s giggles had smoothed over any uncomfortableness. “Kidding hyung, you can buy me food.”

“Something seizure safe?” Namjoon had clarified, ducked into a corner at the hospital, words quiet.

“You gonna tell my doctor on me if it’s not?”

“Kookie-”

But scolding Jungkook never works out well, he’s too cute to be scolded, too good for it. Jungkook’s a personal trainer and luckily his work hasn’t been too disrupted by his diagnosis. Namjoon doesn’t know if he would have been able to resist offering monetary help if it had. They’re not rich, but having three people to pool their paychecks together takes the anxiety out of a lot of things.

Jungkook’s body feels more and more like a cage as the seizures get worse. His life is narrowed down to the five or ten minutes a week he surrenders to the seizures. But the best part, the part that makes him feel most free, is picking up the phone and calling Namjoon. Namjoon never makes him feel like he’s sick, his concern isn’t stifling like Jimin and Tae's can be at times. Namjoon never makes Jungkook feel worried and under watch, only looked after.

Jungkook knows that Jimin and Taehyung will get better at it, they have been adjusting but it’s Been hard. He’s not fragile right? He’s not going to die from this? Right?

Jungkook’s okay until he’s not.

Taehyung sends him poems and pictures of Jungkook sleeping and getting his rest. But he also calls in a panic just days from his third follow up MRI because Jungkook had a seizure when neither of the alphas was home. He’s still on the floor, and he’s having trouble standing.

Namjoon knows. Namjoon knows what that looks like after a seizure, knows how scary it is when the body won’t listen to the brain. The dissonance to it, like a car crash happening quietly or mold inside of a jam jar, shocking at the opening.

“He says he’s okay- but Joonie- Joonie- how do we know- what if he’s bleeding in his head or if he’s-”

“Tae- Tae- it’s okay baby. I’m here, do you want me to come over and check him out?”

The use of the word baby gets a little look from Yoongi and Jin. They’re playing footsie at the coffee table with a pint of ice cream and only one spoon between the two of them. Their night of domestic leisure interrupted by this phone call. Namjoon’s startled tone draws their attention away from each other. Namjoon’s too panicked to notice their questioning eyes, too worried about Jungkook.

He’s got more on his mind right now, the thought of brain bleeds and strokes and the misfiring neurons in Jungkook’s brain that could kill him. Really- Jungkook could die at any time from this. He could die and Namjoon's only seen them a handful of times. His follow up appointment that Namjoon had desperately been looking forward too, is barely a week away.

But that's not soon enough. 

Tae goes silent on the other line until the phone gets handed over with a rustle of fabric against the earpiece. But Namjoon recognizes the calm breath. Namjoon doesn’t have as much of a rapport with Jimin, beyond a few selfies or videos of him and Jungkook being cute sent to him by Taehyung (because if he has to suffer through being so deeply in love that Jimin snorting sprite out his nose makes him have heart eyes then everyone else has to witness it too).

(In Namjoon’s defense those are Taehyung’s words- not his).

“Hyung, can you come over?” He asks.

He's never called Namjoon Hyung before and never asked to. There's a warmness there. Namjoon knows a little about why that might be. All of them are immigrants to different degrees and Namjoon's technically 3rd generation and had never learned Korean just like Jungkook. Tae and Jimin know more, have the sentiment built into their language, Korean to English and back again tangling until it’s hard to tell what they are- if they’re anything other than other. Jimin can’t read hangul but Tae can.

Jungkook throws the word ‘Hyung’ around like an American and likes to tack it onto every sentence or forget it entirely. Namjoon doesn't speak Korean like Yoongi and Jin do. But Namjoon recognizes the same cadence in Jimin's voice that Yoongi uses when he talks to Seokjin in that soft special way reserved for someone you expect to look after you.

The supplication is sweet as he asks for Namjoon. He lives up to his stoic persona; his voice barely wavers when he gives Namjoon their address.

In the mad dash over to their apartment, Namjoon recalls the story Jungkook told him of how he met Tae and Jimin. Jimin is a professional bodyguard and works for an entertainment agency, they both used to go to the same gym (Jungkook works there now but Jimin is too busy working to go more than once or twice a week) both of them staunch jocks and Tae the one erudite that charmed their hearts.

Taehyung and Jimin had known each other since grade school, had grown up and gotten kicked out at the same time because their parents didn’t approve of alpha and alpha relationships. They’ve been together even longer than Seokjin and Yoongi have. Had presented together and loved each other through it. Although it seems impossible given their age. He remembers Jungkook’s smitten expression over Facetime, stars in his eyes only meant for the two alphas’ and Namjoon a happy voyeur.

“They’re soulmates Hyung, like you and Seokjinnie.”

And that’s how Namjoon ends up halfway across town wearing only one slipper in Yoongi’s robe at 10 pm on a Wednesday. His car keys jingle in his hand as he realizes- fuck- I didn’t even comb my hair. His alpha instincts are screaming at him to find the three pups and make sure they’re alright. Maybe scruff them, maybe make sure that their den is as safe as Namjoon's.

(It couldn't be as safe as Namjoon's- his instincts say. He should take them by the nape and drag them back to place them in Seokjin's nest, the only safe place for pups. Seokjin might not even mind, Seokjin might chirp like his alpha has brought something significantly valuable back to his nest, like food from hunting or more furs. Three more packmates yes. That would be a very very good courting gift for the pack omega. Seokjin will like these alpha’s, Namjoon is sure of it).

Namjoon’s only ever felt this protective with two people in his life and he knows enough to guess what this means.

Jimin answers the door, moving to the side instantly to let Namjoon into their den. Routine, like not even an inch of his instincts reject him. They’ve only met in person twice and talked over the phone a handful of times. But Jimin’s eyes still shine, glassy and trusting.

“Alpha, you came.” He says, blushing when he realizes his slip-up. It’s quite a chang3e from his glaring before but Namjoon doesn’t question it. Namjoon whips through their apartment, his nose seeking out their omega.

“Couldn’t stay away, would have come over even if you said you didn’t want me to.” Is the confession too much or is it perfect? Jimin’s eyes go dark, and his hand loosens on the doorknob where it’s closed. Keeping the world out and Namjoon inside.

Namjoon wants to growl, but it comes out as a near purr.

Namjoon barely notices the checkered yellow carpet and the plants on the windowsill or the books piled by the couch where Jungkook sits with Taehyung, head in the alpha’s lap. The soft drone of the TV is the only noise. The brightness is turned down too. Both of his hands clasped in Taehyung’s tight, and a kitchen towel pressed to a mark on his cheek that's not bleeding anymore. 

It doesn’t need stitches but will scar anyway. The scar will stay for years after, small and slight. Just barely puckering over Jungkook’s cheekbone. Namjoon spends half an hour holding his hands and checking his pulse. Shining a light in Jungkook’s eyes before he verifies that Jungkook is okay. That his pupils look fine, that he doesn't have a concussion. And he's going to be fine. 

Tonight, Jungkook is alive and healthy, but that will not always be the case.

“You can borrow a pair of Tae’s shoes to go home,” Jimin says while Tae and Jungkook waddle off together towards the end of the hall where the scent of the three of them grows thick and sweet. In the direction of Jungkook’s nest.

Taehyung holds Jungkook up, still tired and dizzy from the seizure, but at least his legs are cooperating again. He’ll be back to normal by the morning. But for now he sleepily nuzzles into Namjoon’s shoulder. His words lisping with sleep, “it feels better when you’re here. Like you a lot hyung, like you lots and lots.”

Taehyung laughs awkwardly. “Okay, that’s enough honey bunny.” He’s understandably a little embarrassed that his omega is scenting the doctor that they met that one time (no matter that their call history says they’ve spent nearly 50 hours talking on the phone over the last 3 weeks.)

Taehyung holds his shoulders and puppets Jungkook to their room. Namjoon has to force himself to let them go down the narrow hallway and not follow them.

Namjoon is just about to leave when Jimin stops him at the door. “Alpha?” It’s not a mistake this time. Namjoon pauses in the doorway.

“Thanks for caring for us.”

Namjoon can’t stop his shivers even when he gets home. Yoongi strokes down his arms to warm him up. “You look like you’ve just had a bomb dropped on you or like you're coming down with something.”

Yoongi's honesty makes Namjoon word vomit all over the quiet. Jin is asleep next to them, but he stirs at the sudden spike of Namjoon's distress. Turns and opens his eyes, crusty. Rubbing at them with a curled fist before he leans his head on Yoongi’s arm. Curled beneath his cheek. Both of them lean in close to watch and listen.

“I think- I think they’re going to be a part of our pack.”

Yoongi kisses Namjoon’s frown away, kissing him over top of Seokjin who huffs, a little bratty at being ignored. Yoongi’s scent remains an uninterrupted ribbon of chocolate melty goodness. If Yoongi feels at all threatened or uncomfortable. He doesn’t smell it.

Namjoon knows he smells relived, even more when Yoongi kisses his cheeks, his brow. Namjoon clings, hands circling the beta’s waist. Possessive, almost apologetic.  “Good, I’d rather listen to them talk here than get only half of your conversation through the phone.”

Late-night phone calls turn into tentative flirting and pinky promises. Seokjin always makes sure to like Jungkook’s posts on Instagram. Makes Yoongi like them too.

He finds flowers downstairs not long after, pink roses, two dozen of them. Long stems elegant and pretty. ‘To Dr.Kim’s pack omega, from Jungkook’s alphas’

“Don’t you think it’s a little strange? I just liked their photos on Instagram and they’re sending flowers?” He remarks to Yoongi later, admiring the flowers in their kitchen, so tall they almost block the view.

Yoongi had simply shrugged, “I think they’re probably just feeling guilty that Namjoon’s spending so much time away from us to take care of him.”

“What do you think of him. Of Jungkook?”

 Yoongi had simply shrugged, “if it works out, it works out.”

“And if it doesn’t.”

“Then we put Joonie back together again.”

But lucky for them it will work out. Lucky for all of them there is nothing to worry about.

~-~

“I always think I’m too much for Jiminie and Taehyung- they’re such good alphas, and I’m just a burden.”

Namjoon hums disapprovingly, soft in his reassurance, opening the fridge to get out the milk, it’s almost noon, and Jungkook is just finishing up his classes. Namjoon is home and the others aren’t.

“Enough of that bunny. They love you. You know they don’t mind at all. They’ve told me they don’t. Promise me you'll call me when you feel this way.”

I’d take care of you too if you’d let me. Taking care of someone like you would be the opposite of a burden. Do you want me to take care of you Jungkook?

Jungkook’s voice is crackly through the phone. "I promise Hyung." 

Seokjin steals the phone from Namjoon sometimes. “Namjoon says you’re cuter in person and I demand we have a cuteness competition where we make out and don’t let him join us.”

Jungkook’s hum comes through immediately. “To torture him? Wouldn’t nesting be more painful? I have a really really cute next Seokjin Hyung. Can you come over and see it sometime?” Asking an older omega for help nesting is-

Seokjin licks his lips, eyes Namjoon up and down, the blush on his cheeks, at a loss for what to say for once. Seokjin looks like he’s relishing in it. And Namjoon starts to get worried for a whole different reason.

It’s so terribly Seokjin as first introductions go. Jungkook’s laugh echoes through the phone and has Namjoon reaching for the phone to hear it. Leaning in cheek to cheek with Seokjin, fighting for it, play wrestling and roughhousing, but Namjoon is resistant to use any real force with Jin.

The omega puts his foot on Namjoon’s chest, both of them sprawled on the couch as Yoongi watches, brushing his teeth at the kitchen sink. Smiling through the bit of white foam that’s gathered on his lips.

“But seriously- when am I going to get to meet you Kookie? Can I call you that?”

They have a group dinner after Tae complains that he’s missing his favorite pair of comfy slip-ons and Jungkook complains that he’s missing his favorite alpha (a sentence that has both Tae and Jimin screaming indignantly but it’s all playful animosity and healthy competition between alphas).

They come over Jin pets Jimin's hair for a full hour, The puppy alpha leans into his touch, staying quiet while Tae explains to Jin the finer points of the dewy decimal system and where he went to college and how he organizes his own personal library in a much much more efficient system. Maybe the quiet or attention Jin gives the other man would bother Namjoon where it not for the sweet, sweet scent of vanilla that the alpha brings with him and the fluttering of his pretty eyelashes.

It’s not the usual vanilla, something deeper to it than baking vanilla, not quite as warm, but still musky and sweet.

Alphas don’t usually smell so sweet, Namjoon knows Jimin smells like Gunsmoke when he’s angry or distressed, had sort of assumed that his happy scent would mirror it. It’s a scent that most omega’s would have, makes saliva gather in his mouth, it smells awfully good when combined with Jin’s happy scent. Both of them smell like melted vanilla ice cream.

Tae chuckles and holds him when he starts to teeter. “Careful, Jimin’s sweet spot is his hair.” And Namjoon drinks down the pretty blush stronger than any whiskey. When Jimin blinks owlishly up at Jin, suddenly looking nervous Jungkook pipes up, agreeing.

“Seriously, just keep doing and he’ll kill for you.”

Jimin- Namjoon’s learned- is probably the quietest in their little pack.  Jimin confesses to him months later that he got teased for his sweet scent growing up. Combined with his short stature and soft features he gets mistaken for an omega more often than not. 

Namjoon learns that out of all of them Jimin is probably the most in touch with his baser instincts. This is why he was so shy at first. Jimin’s inner wolf (though he’d cringe if Namjoon ever used such archaic wording) is so much louder than everyone else’s. He’d recognized Namjoon as not just an alpha but his alpha immediately.

It had come as such a shock to him that day in the hospital that Jimin had rejected it a little. Jimin had never thought he’d feel the urge (and actually did have to stop himself) from rolling over and showing his stomach to another alpha. The same way that Taehyung does in the middle of rut sometimes when he's truly brought into a lower more instinctual headspace. 

Namjoon watches him interact with Jin while Jungkook curls under his arm. It feels so natural to touch Jungkook, to stroke down his side, to duck low and whisper his observations into the omega’s hair. While they watch their two packs intermingle. Yoongi and Tae talk through their favorite books and music while he helps Yoongi set everything up for dinner. Yoongi might not read as much as Namjoon or Jin or Tae do- but he still appreciates Tae talking about what he loves. The way he’s so invested in the stories that he talks quick. The pretty way he smiles when he's really getting into his favorite book. 

Tae is a librarian, Yoongi learns. He looks the part of it. 

His soft silk shirt looks so delicate and simply pretty, the collar parted against honey collarbones. His well-tailored pants hug his toned thighs and trim waist. Yoongi is a little distracted by it that he almost burns the bechamel sauce. Distracted enough that he loses track of what Taehyung’s saying and settles for just watching.

Taehyung’s adorable grin flattens after a moment when he realizes how long he’s been rambling, that Yoongi hasn’t replied to anything in a few minutes. “Sorry you probably don’t want to hear about this I know it’s annoying when I info dump-”

“No, I was listening, keep going- that story sounds really interesting.”

He’s honest and genuine and he never looks away from Tae as he talks. There is something about the beta’s attention that makes Tae feel undeniably special. But less like a butterfly burning under a magnifying glass and more like a piece of sea glass in a child’s bucket. A treasure found to be marveled over. The attention makes all sorts of foolish emotions warm in Taehyung’s chest, nurtured carefully by every encouraging nod he earns from Yoongi.

If this is what Yoongi’s flirting is like they’re all doomed. There’s nothing more attractive than someone who is genuinely interested in your experience as a person. And Yoongi is invested, he wants to hear everything.

A beta. Taehyung hasn't been around many betas before. None of them have. Very few packs have Beta’s that stay for any length of time. But somehow Namjoon and Seokjin have managed to keep this one. It’s clear that Yoongi’s roots are here, his record collection is in the corner, and his flannel hangs by the door along with these beat up old shoes that look like something out of the 80’s.

Taehyung doesn’t have to look very far to find reasons why. Namjoon and Jin are sort of a power couple, they’re sort of perfect together. It’s hard to believe that Namjoon is both a doctor and only a year older than him and Jimin. Both of them are tall- just as tall as Taehyung and broader even.

By all measurable standards, the night is going fantastic until Jungkook has a seizure at their dinner table.

Triggered by what- who knows? It could easily be all the new scents in the room or the faintly flickering light that Yoongi’s been meaning to change in the living room. The spicy soup that Seokjin cooks or all the new scents tangling in the air overloading Jungkook’s cerebellum and plunging him headlong into it.

Dinner has barely started, there is still bites on the ends of forks, drinks being lifted to lips for first sips, when Jungkook’s body goes limp. He’s like a marionette with its strings cut. Limbs all limp and trembling, the whites of Jungkook’s eyes visible- only for a second before Namjoon guides him carefully to the floor.  

Jimin and Taehyung operate with practiced ease. They’ve learned to see the signs right before it happens. Sometimes Jimin even thinks he can smell a subtle shift in Jungkook’s honey scent before his eyes roll back and his brain just shuts off and goes all wonky.

Yoongi and Jin watch on scared. Jin flinches, reaching, spilling a glass of white wine.

But Namjoon holds his head, and they hold each other and don’t restrain him except to keep him from flinching his arm into the leg of the chair which Seokjin takes and promptly yeets away from the youngest- the pup. They're all Seokjin's pups, he's already decided. Together the five of them wait for the twitching to stop because that’s all they can do.

Namjoon watches Jungkook and feels like he wants to cry, keeping time with his heartbeat thundering in his ears. Counting the seconds. He hadn’t expected something like this to happen outside of work hours. Seeing sick people when you’re not expecting to as a doctor- it’s jarring. Even though Namjoon’s used to it, it never gets any easier.

And then Yoongi swoops in when Jungkook’s body gives a particularly violent jerk, knees sliding across the linoleum floor, smashing his arm into the table leg in a way that looks incredibly painful. Yoongi doesn’t think- just follows his instincts and shoves his wrist under Jungkook’s nose.

Jungkook’s body heaves an unsteady breath of Yoongi’s chocolate scent and stops twitching. The violence in his wild limbs calming to a tremble.

Everyone just blinks.

He comes out of this seizure faster than others. Barely a minute before he’s blinking into clarity. His body’s first reaction is to press further into Yoongi. Curling around him on the kitchen floor. Knees behind his back as Yoongi threads his hand through Jungkook’s hair and holds him close.

The disorientation fades after a few minutes when they all help Jungkook up and onto the couch after the room has stopped swirling with colors like the filmy edge of a bubble. His brain trying to turn back on. Tae’s hands are shaking. Seokjin is crying a little, hiccupping. But he’s the least used to these kinds of things out of all of them, his shock is understandable. No one knows what to say, even less what to do.

In the silence, Yoongi turns to the three of them and calls it.  

“That’s it, you’re staying.” His declaration rings with a tone of finality. 

No one challenges him.

~-~

They move in next week, though they try to keep to separate bedrooms to make the transition from two packs to one a little less dramatic. It hardly works when Jungkook splits his time between the two rooms, when the others can’t help but wake up to the sound of pattering feet across the narrow hallway. Even on the nights he’s supposed to spend cuddling with Jimin and Tae, he somehow always finds his way into Yoongi’s arms.

He smells nice, or so Jungkook says, soothing. Especially on the days after the seizures. Sometimes Yoongi's scent is the only one Jungkook can handle. 

It's so much more than that.

Jungkook’s seizures decrease dramatically after he moves in. Until they’re barely happening at all. Maybe once a month when before they’d been once or twice a week. He doesn't change his diet or his schedule. He doesn't change anything but his scenting sessions with Yoongi. 

Yoongi doesn’t mind when he asks, always says sure and sits and lets Jungkook crawl tentatively to his side, rubbing their wrists together slowly at first and them more brazenly as the shyness wears away. And Yoongi tilts his throat up to let Jungkook have at it, cheeks all ruddy and blushy by the time he’s satisfied.

“We’re all a pack, we should all wear each other’s scents around.”

"You just want an excuse to kiss Jin Hyung in the nest Kookie" Taehyung teases, making the tops of Jin's ears go pink. Jungkook is a little bit obsessed with the elder omega’s nest.  

"It's like a really sexy nest alright- you guys just don't get it because you're not omegas." 

At the beginning Jungkook tried a few medications to get his seizures under control but none of them worked, either their side effects where worse than the seizures themselves or they hardly decreased their frequency. Yoongi's scent is better than any pill Jungkook could pop. Jungkook feels one coming on and a quick drag of Yoongi’s wrist along his throat stops it dead in his tracks. Or Yoongi shoves his wrist under his nose when Jungkook’s starts twitching, and the seizure lasts barely a minute. It’s not correlation, it’s causation.

Yoongi stops the seizures. He’s medicine made man, love made cure.  

Privately, Namjoon thinks that he’d love to study it- the healing powers of betas aren’t something that’s well understood by science. When he accesses the hospital’s medical databases on his break, he finds that the evidence of any special beta healing properties is anecdotal at best and pseudoscience at worst.  

There’s only one story in the scientific literature- from a beta doctor who says he cured his mate’s lupus after he gave them a mating mark. But the peer review on that alone is scathing. And in Namjoon’s agrees with it, because betas don’t mate.

For one beta to bind themselves to only one other person goes against everything that Namjoon knows about beta biology and sociology. There are even some in the field who don’t believe betas even can give or receive a mating bite.

One or two reports (that seem more like horror stories) he finds on his way down the rabbit hole of omegas and betas going absolutely insane after they’d tried to be bonded. They couldn’t be separated- that it seemed to hurt them if they were. Brain scans support this idea. Both of them had bright parietal lobes, actively experiencing pain when they were only a few rooms away from each other. Though noticeably less from the beta than their non-beta counterpart. 

Betas can’t mate. At least not in the same way that omegas and alphas can. (And even alphas and alphas, and omegas and omegas- Namjoon’s progressive brain reminds him).

Things are changing, with Jimin and Taehyung in the house. Namjoon tries to be polite about it, watching both of them kiss over morning coffee, watching them nip and nibble. Tries to convince himself that his scent isn’t going heady and musky, that he’s not watching both of them over the top of his newspaper.

It becomes harder to ignore when both of them sit on either side of him and tangle their hands over the table. Pausing to feed him bites of Jin’s cooking saying, “alpha this is so good, you have to have it.” And Tae's gentle chiding of “good bite.”

It’s not so strange, is it? Two people of the same sub-gender loving each other, right? Namjoon’s instincts hum in agreement as he watches Jin and Jungkook roughhouse, Jin says something low and sweet that makes Jungkook laugh and Jungkook slaps Jin’s thigh in retaliation.

They all recognize the correlation between Jungkook’s health and Yoongi’s presence in the young omega's life. Jungkook’s seizures only come back if he and Yoongi haven’t spent enough quality time together or if he hasn’t been scent-marked or cuddled daily.

The near-overnight change is amazing. To Jungkook- it feels like he gets his life back. 

At night Taehyung and Jimin look down at Yoongi like he’s a marvel. Like he’s the eighth wonder of the world. They kiss at his scent glands and even dare to nibble, as if to absorb part of him, so that they might keep Jungkook safe too. Making the beta gasp and his heart beat quick.

Honey and spice and vanilla- as good as Jungkook and Taehyung and Jimin. They join their pack, meeting Namjoon and Jin’s milk and coffee. Sometimes Yoongi just lies back up and breathes in deep. Enjoying the smell of all of them together and yet sure that they’re missing something.

“We smell like a bakery,” someone never fails to comment. “Yoongi’s bakery.” 

It makes him feel good that he belongs here; this is where he’s meant to be he’s sure of it. But still- his heart has edges that still need mending. Or maybe he needs something to mend. Like arms he doesn’t know yet but can’t help but reach out for.

That something that their combined pack scent is missing happens to be the caramel sweetness of Jung Hoseok.

Another sweet-smelling alpha and sunshine incarnate.

(Next Chapter)

~-~

(Read the first Version of this story Here)

Notes:

- You guys really have no idea how much medical researched I’ve had to do over the years to talk about Jungkook’s seizures in an accurate way! Like literally I’ve had to look up everything. I would have thought grey’s anatomy would have prepared me for this but I guess those hours rewatching season 7 where wasted.

- I can confidently say that Jk probably has something called focal transmantle cortical dysplasia- which is resistant to treatment via medication and is either genetic or can sometimes be triggered by injury.

- Having worked in medical stuff for the last 4ish years- I can tell you without a doubt that if a patient acted like Jk with me I would be!!! Swooning!

- Okay but I’m a little in love with how Jungkook’s character changed to the beginning. Like “I’m like this naturally.” What a little shithead. I love him so much, he’s like lowkey my favorite character.

- Okay so, I’m not entirely sure whether or not my depiction of them as immigrants and the tangle of this being a kpop fanfic is like- alright? Because all cultures are different, and all cultural experiences are different and I’ve been reading a lot about the Korean diaspora. But I will say that like- I am an immigrant to the extent that Namjoon is in this story. Both my grandparents where in refugee camps before they came to America, they don’t have accents anymore but they still speak to each other in private in their first language. I’m American, I’ve never known any life than this and my mom calls herself American too, but I still feel in the middle you know? I want my depiction of it to be accurate but it’s not a focal point of this story in any major way- unlike for instance Jungkook’s illness or Tae's transition if that makes sense? I’m wondering how much I should talk about it and how much I should explain in this universe.

- If we’re talking like- actuality, I think that there is a possibility that Jimin could have presented as an omega in bily but because he grew up in such an abusive and stressful environment his body made him present as an alpha to better protect Tae.

[frudoo]

Full Hands Pt. 2

Warnings: None, really. Fem!Reader. Fluff fluff fluff.

Full Hands Masterlist

Exhaustion runs rampant in your bones as you walk along the pavement, habitually avoiding the cracks. Your head pounds and your ears ring, a shrill reminder of the long day’s worth of caring for the screaming children you’re so fond of. As much as you adore your job and the kiddos, you’ll be getting a much needed break while they go on vacation with their parents for the next two weeks. A chance to let your hair down, remind yourself that there’s more to your life than playing temporary-mommy for a few hundred bucks a week. A chance to rediscover the excitement of the city without two tiny, whining voices in your ear.

You’re so lost in your own world that you barely process the sound of your ringtone chiming in the depths of your purse. With a sigh, you pull out your phone to see the screen flashing with the words Unknown Number. Hesitantly, you answer with a soft hello, voice small and unsure.

“Hey, love, it’s John. I was just wonderin’ what time we should meet?”

You let out a relieved sigh, happy to hear that it isn’t some scammer or telemarketer who fished your number out of a database. That familiar deep baritone makes your heart flutter and you’re acutely aware of how unkempt you look—hair disheveled, baby spit-up and spilled coffee all over your dress. God, you’re a wreck. It’ll take a while to pull yourself together.

“You there?” The concerned voice on the other end asks, and your eyes widen before you respond.

“Yes. Yes! Sorry. I-I kinda look a mess right now, I need to get home and grab a shower,” you explain, continuing your journey down the sidewalk.

“Not a problem, darlin’. How’s quarter past six sound?” You can hear the smile in his voice as he speaks and it makes you do the same, nearly dropping your keys as you approach your apartment.

“That sounds perfect. Where are we meeting?”

“Just meet me outside the café again, yeah? We can walk wherever we decide to go,” John suggests with a loud sniff, making you giggle as you kick off your shoes and set your purse on the coffee table.

“Perfect. I’ll see you then,” you grin, heading towards your bedroom to strip out of your dirty sundress.

“See you then, love,” he hums, then three beeps signal that he’s hung up.

With a giddy smile, you capture your bottom lip between your teeth as you save his number in your contacts. It almost feels foreign—you can’t remember the last time a man’s been interested in taking you out, let alone one as handsome as John. Usually they’re scared off by the children you carry around, never giving you the chance to explain that no, you’re not their mother, and you are single. Regardless, it got you where you are now.

It doesn’t take long for you to shower and wash off all the grime of the day, humming quietly to yourself as you scrub your body clean. Once you’re completely dry, you settle for some light makeup that accentuates your pretty features, then slip into a baby blue sundress with a lightweight forest green sweater to match. An airy spritz of your favorite perfume and three different pairs of shoes later, you’re ready to head out the door to go on your date. A date. A word you never thought would apply to you again.

It’s a chilly evening, hues of orange and pink a canvas for the cotton-candy clouds that litter the sky. You clutch your purse to your person tightly as you walk down the pavement, on edge from being alone, but it doesn’t last long. You get the same shiver down your spine as you approach the tall, roguish man. John grins when he spots you, holding up the small collection of flowers he has in his hands.

“Got these for you,” he hums, passing you the bouquet of red poppies. “Figured you like ‘em, since that was the pattern on your dress earlier.”

“Thank you so much!” You smile and lean in to hug him, impressed by his memory and immediately taking in the scent of his spicy cologne as well as the subtle hint of smoke that lingers on his clothes.

John grins again, a gentle thumb rubbing over the peak of your cheekbone. He chuckles at your shy state, a rich, gravely sound that reverberates through his chest. God, you’re such a sight for sore eyes. A welcomed contrast to the bloodshed and tragedy he sees almost daily, something purer than the brutal killer he stares at in the reflection of his bathroom mirror. You’re soft and sweet and succulent, and it takes everything in him to refrain from taking a bite of you like the most indulgent ambrosia.

You sniffle, fighting the urge to lean into his gentle, lingering touch. In the dim patio light, you can see all the off-colored specks in his gorgeous blue eyes, gold flakes ever present in that rich gaze. A cold gust of wind sends goosebumps rising all along your body, and you shiver. John notices, giving your sweater-clad arms a rub for good measure.

“Wanna take you somewhere, darlin’. Just a short walk,” he wraps a strong arm around your shoulders, nodding his head northbound. “If that’s alright with you?”

You bite your lip and nod, secretly thankful that he won't have to spend any more money on you as he guides you away from all the restaurants. The path is well-lit and there’s still plenty of people around, so you walk with him along the sidewalk, taking in his warmth and comforting scent. He walks faster than you expected, nearly having to jog to keep up with him. He notices and slows down a bit, settling for holding your free hand instead. Eventually, he guides you to an ambient park, complete with well-kept flower gardens and a duck pond that follows the pavement trail. It’s much more elegant than the one you take the kids to.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe, admiring all the greenery and pretty lights that adorn the pathway.

“I think so,” he replies with a quick shrug, squeezing your hand gently. “I like to come here to decompress. Clear this ol’ noggin.”

“Yeah? What do you do for work?” You ask, peering up at him fondly.

Even his side profile gets your heart racing, handsome and wise and confident in himself.

“Military,” he replies shortly, and his tone suggests that he won’t say any more on the matter.

It makes sense: the way he carries himself, the slight cockiness hidden beneath the kind exterior. He’s not a douche in the slightest, though—at least, not to you. You hope he never will be, but with the way he's looking at you with that beautiful, warm smile, you doubt he ever could.

John doesn’t feel at all like a stranger you just met earlier today. He carries on conversation effortlessly and he’s attentive, genuinely interested in getting to know you. It’s refreshing, to say the least, nice to have someone else to talk to. About an hour of walking and he guides you to sit with him on one of the benches overlooking the pond. Your eyes are already drooping, and the peaceful atmosphere does nothing to keep you awake—the chirping crickets, crisp wind rustling through the leaves of the trees, the occasional quacks from the ducks on the water.

He wraps his arm around your waist and then you’re out, head falling to rest on his broad shoulder. It’s surprisingly comfortable, and although you would scold yourself later for letting your guard down in front of a man you just met, you’re rather alright with it being with him, and he’s happy to sit still for as long as you need. Until you wake, until the park ranger comes to kick the both of you out, until the end of time—no matter to John. You’ve already got him wrapped around your finger.

Next ->

[wooahaes]

feel me

pairing: non-idol!han x gn!reader, some non-idol!felix x gn!reader

genre: angst with a happy ending. slight fluff.

word count: ~21k

warnings: angst with a happy ending. mutual pining that’s fully believed to only be one-sided by both parties. temporary relationship with felix. heartbreak. no communication at one part after jisung ghosts reader for almost three weeks. big brother-figure chris having serious talks with reader. fluff in certain parts, though. food mentions. hyunjin is kinda ready to throw down at one point tbh.

daisy’s notes: title origin from the golden child song bc the lyrics kinda fit haha <3 anyway rewrite of this old thing!! also sorry felix but if u get the sequel fic i'm thinkin of... u will be happy <3

Most people looked at the friendship you had with Chris and assumed that he was your best friend. The two of you had grown up down the road from one another, after all, and that had been why you ended up befriending one another. His family all knew you by name and knew all of your favorites (because Chris had learned them first and made sure everyone knew them), and they all watched you follow Chris around like a duckling when you were small. Pictures of the two of you littered the walls of both your childhood home and his, all from vacations your families had taken together. Plus your parents always made enough food for Chris on any given day, since he always found his way over for dinner at the most random times. If anything, Chris was family to you now, the big brother you never had (and, occasionally when he was being a little overly affectionate, he was your big bother). Before college, Chris Bang was one-hundred-percent your best friend…

Until you met Han Jisung on the first day of freshman orientation.

Sure, the reason you came to this school was partially because you knew you’d have a friend in the area (you liked the literature program a lot more), but things changed the day you met Jisung. The two of you had been a little wary of the other people in your group, all bragging about how they wouldn’t let anyone stop them from the party life they were craving. On one hand, you kind of admired the tenacity that took… but on the other, they were the rowdy bunch out of all the groups that were around. Even though you weren’t much of a party person, your annoyance at the time firmly came from the fact you were sinking so much money into this school—even without the financial aid and scholarships you’d managed to get. Partying was fun, but denying everything in favor of it? You couldn’t wrap your head around it.

And, apparently, neither could Jisung. He’d been separated from his friends, all in the same orientation group without him, and looked a little lost. You quietly moved your chair over to him after you grew annoyed with two people hardcore flirting with one another and ignoring the poor orientation leader who was just trying to tell you all about the general education program. He’d looked up at you, and you introduced yourself to him quietly—trying not to catch the attention of your orientation leader. She was too busy waiting for the novelty of it all to die down for a minute so she could do her job, so… Why not take the chance to introduce yourself to him?

He’d gazed at you for a moment behind his glasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose a moment later. “Han,” he’d said in a quiet voice. Then he cleared his throat, speaking a little louder, “I’m Han Jisung. Music management and music composition major.”

Already, you were impressed by him. Chris was in the music program himself, and you’d heard about how rigorous it could be at times—especially with the heavy course load that came from both programs. Chris had gone into it because he was… Well, he was Chris. Chris who was on the swim team and in the theater and the band and somehow found time to do community service, too. Jisung was a stranger to you in all the best ways, someone who already intrigued you. When you told him your own major, he had nodded along, no push to question your future career.

“Is that what you like?” He’d asked instead. “Books?”

It was one part of what you liked, at least. You nodded. “Do you love music?”

He’d smiled at you, and it was as if he’d become a different person for a moment. “It’s my passion,” he’d said, voice clear and bolder than before.

That had been what the two of you ended up talking about until your orientation leader managed to get control of the group again. She’d finally been given the go-ahead to give you a tour of campus, and you noticed that Jisung had decided to stick with you near the back of the group. He never said anything then, the two of you opting to listen to your leader instead, but you saw the tiny smile on his face when you were walking through the music floor of the arts building. Once you were released from your schedule for the day, he’d kept glancing at you, as if unsure of what he was about to do. Then he finally stepped up, holding up his phone.

“My friends and I are getting coffee off campus,” he said. “Do you want to come?”

That had been the moment that solidified the two of you as friends. You had happily agreed, exchanging numbers on the way as he told you about his friends. There was Felix, who he said was a sweetheart. Everyone loved Felix, and you’d eventually realize in time just how true that was. Hyunjin could be charismatic, although sometimes he could be a little sharp-tongued with people. Apparently, he and Jisung once hated each other before getting over their school rivalry—you’d never understand it, but everyone swore by it. And then there was Seungmin, who was witty and funny in all the best ways. The group seemed to accept you into their circle pretty quickly, and you honestly contributed that to Jisung…

Who you very quickly learned was incredibly funny in his own right. With the orientation group and with you alone, he’d been quieter. Polite and sweet as he could be. Yet you saw the way he loosened up over time when with his friends, genuinely funny and a bit louder with them. Maybe that was why you would end up clicking with him so well: he was versatile, conscious of the mood and finding a way to fit it well. You saw the way he seemed to naturally return to a quieter state when on his own, and you were happy to match that energy any day. 

When you returned to your dorm that day, Chris had been waiting for you. He’d watched you part ways with your new friends and decided to celebrate by squeezing the life out of you.

“You’re making friends!” He giggled, and it suddenly reminded you of the loving way your step-mom always treated you. He swayed with you, never letting you go. “You’re growing up!” 

This was definitely something he was reporting to your parents. Not that you cared: his family asked for you to look out for him, too, and you fully intended to follow through on the request. He’d already been giddy when you showed him your acceptance letter and announced you’d picked the school (he’d nearly squeezed the life out of you that day, too), gushing about how he’d have to introduce you to Minho and Changbin. That was why he’d been waiting for you that day, actually: the four of you were getting dinner together, Chris’s treat. The two of you had decided to call off any embarrassing stories (both of you had plenty of ammunition, the same way that both of his siblings had even more on you both), and you’d spent that dinner realizing just how much love you had for Chris.

That was why you had agreed to live with him come sophomore year. Regardless of whether he was being a brother figure or a bother figure, you’d agreed quickly when he gave you his clearly premeditated offer of taking the open room in his apartment. His old roommate had just moved out, and Chris apparently told him he “already had someone interested” when he brought the topic up to begin with. So he helped you carry your boxes into the apartment and the two of you enjoyed your takeout that night, giddy to be close once again. He’d invited Minho and Changbin over that night, too, to toast to your first day of living with Chris. It was at that point that you decided to introduce Jisung to them, inviting him over, too. 

Things came together from there. Minho recognized Jisung from a photo that Felix had shown him while he (and Hyunjin) were sitting around before dance practice started. Seungmin ended up getting pulled into the group through association with the rest of you, and it was you and Seungmin who pulled Jeongin into this circle. He’d been in your general education classes, and he seemed to get along pretty well with Seungmin. Seungmin introduced you to Jeongin, and you introduced Jeongin to the group, and everyone seemed to fit together in this sweet way. Even with all of you having friends of your own, you always seemed to come back to one another when times were rough.

By some stroke of luck, Hyunjin and Seungmin ended up moving in a few doors down from you and Chris. Despite Seungmin’s very vocal complaints (always made with love… you were pretty sure, at least), both of them seemed glad to have familiar faces nearby. The two always seemed to drop in when Chris was making dinner, always telling some story about their own lives. You realized that your stories almost always had Jisung and Felix in them after Seungmin pointed it out to you one night.

When did you start spending so much time with Felix? Jisung was naturally there because he was your best friend (officially now: the two of you had matching beaded bracelets you’d made for one another just to rub it in). But Felix…

Chris had picked up on how quiet you’d grown that night. But he waited to bring the topic up until one Saturday when the two of you were alone. He’d passed you the bowl of popcorn he’d made once before throwing himself onto the other end of the couch. “So. You and Felix...” 

You rolled your eyes. Your love life had always been pretty off-limits as a topic to anyone but Chris, and he was fully going to take advantage of that, wasn’t he? He’d given you a few much-needed days to figure out how you felt, and they were… Well, far from platonic. Felix was sweet as he could be, and you’d become so, so endeared to him when he started showing up to your apartment with baked goods. Everyone loved Felix, and you weren’t sure when your love for Felix became more than what it was before. Long before senior year, that was certain: every time you tried to pinpoint a beginning, you found yourself moving it further and further back to something else he’d done.

“I’m just curious!” Chris chuckled. “You always deny feeling anything for Jisung—I should have known it was Felix the entire time!”

Despite having the urge to, you didn’t roll your eyes that time. Your feelings for Jisung weren’t important. Not when he was your best friend, and having them would jeopardize that. Han Jisung did not love you the way you’d begun to love him, and you were more than happy to ignore that crush. It’d go away eventually once you stopped fantasizing about what a relationship with him would look like. And if it didn’t… Well, you’d figure that out when you came to it.

“You should go for it,” Chris said, shifting so he was slightly closer to you. “Felix is a good kid! He’s nothing like the last guy you dated—”

Oh, not this shit again. There was a reason you hadn’t dated in a while, and Chris was too aware of it. He’d been ready to get into a fist fight and call your friends as back-up. “Christopher—”

He ignored the use of your birth name, “I mean it. That guy was gross, and you deserve better than someone who thinks you should move in with them after a few weeks because living with a guy you aren’t dating is ‘weird.’” 

That had only been part of the reason you dumped the guy. You’d never told Chris any other parts because you knew what he’d say. Your ex hated Jisung because of how close the two of you were, and you weren’t going to date some insecure loser who thought he could control who you hung out with. He’d always been “fine” with the rest of your friends (begrudgingly so), but he’d targeted Jisung for some reason. Jisung was always too close to you, or he was too soft when around other people, or he was “obviously” in love with you and you were too blind to see it. If you’d let him take Jisung out of your life, you knew he’d eventually move on to someone else. It’d be Jeongin, and then Felix, and then Hyunjin… It had taken a while for you to realize it and accept it, but it was just a gateway for him to control you and your life. When you ended things with him, you told him he needed to grow the fuck up because you’d never ask him to do the things he was pressuring you to do. 

When you told Jisung that same day that you broke up with him, he’d watched you curiously for a minute. When you didn’t cry or say anything further, he smiled at you and asked if you wanted to celebrate. Jisung had treated you out for dinner that night, telling you about how he’d always thought you could do better. That guy hadn’t respected you enough to trust you, and all he could do was hope that he would eventually change for the better. It wasn’t your job to fix him, after all. You’d only left out the part where he said Jisung was in love with you: he didn’t need to know that, and  you didn’t need to hear him laugh it off as the joke that it was.

“I mean it.” Chris had moved closer to you when you never spoke up again, one hand squeezing your shoulder. “Felix is like a little brother to me. I think if you want to ask him out… The two of you would work well together.”

Maybe he had a point. But… “I thought I was your sibling.”

He rolled his eyes, moving back into his spot at the end of the couch. “Ask Jisung for help. You said they’ve known each other since high school, right?”

They have. They ended up rooming together their freshman year, and you’d almost always be spending at least a little time with Felix whenever you went to spend time with Jisung. He’d always be studying or on his way out, but he always made a point of hanging back just long enough to say hi to you and chat for a moment. Chris had a point, then. If anyone could help you, it would probably be Jisung.

(You wouldn’t know that Chris regretted the suggestion once he saw the way Jisung looked at you. He’d held his feelings to his chest for three years, and the mask slipped once when he thought no one was looking. The soft way he smiled at you, the tender look in his eyes when he heard you laugh… Chris would have taken the moment back if he could.)

Which was why you ended up in the MinSung apartment a few days later, sitting in Jisung’s computer chair. When you asked him for help, he’d agreed all too easily, saying something about how Felix did keep calling you cute. While he claimed to not know for sure (which you suspected was a lie), he’d been up front with you when he said he thought Felix might feel something toward you. Feelings in their vaguest form, but still something to give you genuine hope.

Minho had waited until you left to step into the doorway of Jisung’s room. “You’re an idiot.” 

Minho was the only person Jisung admitted his feelings about you to. He’d already picked up on it long ago, seeing the looks that everyone else seemed to not notice, and outright asked him about it. He never understood how no one, outside of himself, knew about the affection Jisung harbored for you. He’d never been all that subtle about it in Minho’s eyes, always so lovingly doting on you. He saw the way you clearly cared for Jisung, too. When he’d quietly asked Chris once whether you felt something for Jisung, he’d said you denied it every time. But while Minho had his dumb moments… He knew you were lying. You had the same loving look on your face whenever you looked at Jisung, dreamy-eyed and oh-so-tender when you engaged with him. You gave Jisung a safe place to hide when his anxiety was too much, always willing to leave with him and get him the space he needed. 

Surprisingly, Hyunjin called him the next morning, just to tell him the same thing Minho had said: you’re an idiot. Hyunjin always somehow seemed to pick up on Jisung’s feelings, too, but eventually believed him after he denied it enough times. You were Jisung’s best friend: was it really fair for him to love you so much when all you ever saw him as was a friend? 

It wasn’t. So he told Hyunjin to mind his business, causing the short-lived spat that the rest of the group heard about in the vaguest terms. Hyunjin had argued with him about it, saying that pushing you toward Felix was cruel to everyone involved. Jisung knew Felix liked you, though, and now he knew that you liked Felix. If Jisung was the only person to get hurt, he could live with it. Maybe he’d turn it into a song if he really needed to. It took a few days, but Hyunjin finally agreed to keep his mouth shut now that he’d spoken to Felix and confirmed that Felix genuinely did like you as more than a friend. If Jisung knew that you were genuine, then Hyunjin could live with it as long as Jisung took care of himself.

It wasn’t your fault that Jisung had fallen in love with you. He agreed to Hyunjin’s terms, and decided that he could live with the heartbreak if you were happy with Felix. Felix was a good person, always so loving and warm. He would treat you the way you deserved, loving you openly and affectionately. All it would cost Jisung was one heartbreak in exchange for your happiness. 

And for you? He would do it without hesitation.

One month into the semester, Jisung had already done a few things for you. Jisung went out of his way to ensure that you and Felix would sit together when given the chance, casually finding ways to move next to Hyunjin every time. A few weeks later, he’d casually dropped the fact that you were wanting to get into gaming more when the group was together, and you’d been confused until you saw the way Felix lit up at the topic. He’d immediately offered to let you join him and his friends, talking about free MMOs that you could play. All too easily, you managed to make conversation with him, talking about how you lacked experience with stuff like that… but you did have a Stardew Valley farm with Chris that the two of you worked on whenever you both had free time.

“Oh, really?” His eyes had been twinkling, head resting in his hand. “Maybe we could make a farm together.”

All too easily, he’d given you butterflies. “I’d like that,” you said, heart racing ever-so-slightly now. 

“Actually…” He averted his gaze for a moment, his pretty freckled cheeks turning red. “Our show is opening in a few weeks. If you want…” He paused, looking up to realize the others were still there, “I’d, um, I’d like it if all of you could come. I can reserve a couple tickets for opening night, but…”

You’d agreed, already planning to make sure your schedule was clear that day. The group had always planned to come support Felix on one of those nights, guaranteeing that he’d have his own section clapping loudly for him once he was taking his bow… but that quickly turned into something that would happen on a later night. You’d taken Felix up on the offer for an opening night ticket, and managed to convince Jisung to come with you. If Jisung was with you, you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself… and Jisung agreed, saying he’d watch the show twice to come with the others later. You had work the other day, after all: it all worked out in a way, right?

Right. Which was why he was standing in a flower shop with you, looking at premade bouquets. For the past five minutes, you’d been debating between a bouquet of sunflowers and yellow roses, frowning to yourself as you tried to pick which one best suited Felix. Jisung found himself staring at pale pink peonies. He’d looked up flower meanings once when thinking about you. If he was going to confess, he would have bought you a bouquet. Pink peonies meant something like deep appreciation, and he could easily spin it into his appreciation for you as his best friend. Would he ever be able to face you and not feel his heart flutter? Maybe one day he would, if he was lucky.

When he looked at you again, you were still deep in thought. He could hear you mumbling to yourself. Roses were too forward, too strong to be just a ‘friend’ thing—even if you were trying to impress Felix. And sunflowers felt… A little cliche knowing Felix. Everyone gave Felix sunflowers on his birthday if they were going to give him flowers. Jisung looked at the other bouquets, only to find one of yellow tulips. You looked up as he approached you with them in hand, the shyest smile on his face.

“You said you wanted to give Felix something pretty, so…” He held them up. “If roses feel too strong… Then why not these?” The paper crinkled underneath his grasp, and his heart was racing even now. This wasn’t meant to be romantic, so why couldn’t he calm down?

You’d lit up, accepting the bouquet with him. He felt the way your fingers brushed against his own when you accepted them, looking down at them. “Do you think he’ll like them”

“He’ll love anything you give him,” Jisung said, gaze softening. If it was from you, it’d be special. His hands rested over your own for a minute, and you met his gaze after a moment. “Hey… Would I lie to you?”

Other people might have. Some people might have tried to sabotage their best friend’s happiness, but Jisung could never do that to you. Not when you meant so much to him. He loved you too much to do anything that might hurt you, that would destroy your happiness. Even if he didn’t love you, you were still his best friend, and that meant he needed to treat you like one. Best friends didn’t destroy best friends like that.

“No,” you said, drawing the bouquet back. You smiled at it again. “Thanks, Jisung. If you wanna wait outside, you can. I’m gonna see if they can put a little ribbon around it when I pay—make it look cuter, y’know?”

His heart leapt at the idea. Of course you’d be cute like this. He wished that it could be him that you were buying flowers for, but he’d accept getting to see you this happy. “I’ll be waiting.”

The bell above the door jingled as he left the shop, taking a few steps away before leaning against the brick wall. With a sigh, he let his shoulders slump. This shouldn’t hurt so much, but the ache in his chest seemed to show no sign of going away. He could put aside his feelings for you, though, if it meant he could see you smile. The soft look in your eyes when he reassured you only made him feel more complicated inside. You weren’t his to give away, so why did it feel like he was losing a part of himself the more he went along with this plan? In the back of his head, a little voice kept telling him to find an excuse to go back to his apartment. A forgotten assignment that he’d overlooked, or reading he needed to do for class… But that meant abandoning you, even though Felix really wanted you to come see him tonight. Not Jisung. Jisung was coming to see him in a few days, so why bother staying?

Again, the bell chimed, and out you stepped, bouquet in hand. The brown paper that once had been wrapped around the flowers was exchanged for white tissue paper, all bound together with a bright, sparkly gold ribbon. It would fit Felix perfectly, all sunshine-y and pretty, and it was only now that Jisung realized you were wearing blue. Felix’s favorite color. Why hadn’t he noticed that before? If you were in red, then Jisung would have noticed right away, wouldn’t he? His mind wandered for a moment: would you have bought flowers for him if you were coming to see him perform? Hell, would you come alone to see him perform next semester? He had to perform solo as part of his degree plans—would you wait to come with the others, or would you be there every night if you could…? Instead, he just gently reminded you to loosen up your grip on the bouquet before you broke the stems.

“What if he hates them?” Your leg had been bouncing nervously the entire bus ride back to campus. 

Jisung just gently pat your arm. “He won’t,” he said, voice as soft as it was in the flower shop. “It’s Felix. I don’t think he’d ever hate anyone for bringing him a gift. Do you?”

That seemed to get through to you, and the tension in your shoulders eased up considerably. A moment later, you nodded, meeting his gaze. “Right…” And then you leaned against him, completely unaware that his heart was now racing all over again. “Sorry. I’m just… I’m nervous, I guess.” 

Jisung could tell. Everything about you now pointed to this need for tonight to go right. The fact you were not only wearing Felix’s favorite color, but also the way you had dressed up a little nicer, just to make an effort for him. The way you were fretting over the flowers still, even now (Jisung could see the way you  kept looking at them and readjusting your hands, all too conscious now that you might break the stems). He’d have to be ignoring you completely to not see the way your leg had been bouncing before, or the way you kept toying with your sleeve, or the way you kept checking the time even though you both left extremely early to get to the shop. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he said, leaning his head against your own. “You’ll be fine.”

Despite the way he still wanted to go home, Jisung stuck by you the entire time. You needed him there to calm you, the way he depended on you sometimes, and he wouldn’t leave you to flounder. The two of you found seats a few rows back from the stage, settling in for whenever the show would begin. Jisung could see Chris sitting in the front row, beaming with pride at the whole affair. That was the nice thing about Chris: he always made a point of coming back to help wherever he could, including with productions like this. Plus, he was always there to support everyone, especially his friends. Dance showcases, theatrical performances, the art exhibits that Hyunjin’s pieces and Seungmin’s photography ended up in… Chris was there, always happy to congratulate on a job well done. Jisung didn’t need to be sitting next to him to see the way he glowed with pride every time Felix was on stage.

When the show was over, Jisung watched as you gravitated near the door the actors would eventually emerge from. He’d already passed the responsibility of congratulating Felix onto you for now (he’d tell him later) as he searched for where Chris had disappeared to in the crowd. Most likely, he’d disappeared into the back to go talk to the actors. Two years out of school, and Chris never seemed to care about the fact he wasn’t technically a part of the department anymore. Jisung admired his confidence, at least: it always felt like a line he shouldn’t cross, even though Felix always said his friends were welcome. 

He’d decided to take refuge in the bathroom instead, just to calm himself down. Chris would come back out soon when the actors did, meaning Jisung could talk to him then. He’d started to fiddle with little things as he stared at himself in the mirror: fixing a stray hair that never seemed to stay in place, adjusting the collar of his shirt, checking to see how puffy his face was… All little things that he could pick himself apart for if he felt like it, and his mind kept straying to it rather than how happy you seemed to be. He saw how engrossed in Felix’s performance you were. Maybe he should leave to spare himself from seeing this any further. He’d done his part, hadn’t he? You would understand. 

Except he didn’t leave, because Jisung was still your best friend. You wouldn’t abandon him now, so he had to do the same for you. The moment he stepped back into the theater, he saw the way you were beaming at Felix. He’d finally emerged, dressed casually again, and was happily talking to you while holding the bouquet. All he needed to do was look at Felix to know that he was smitten from the way he was smiling at you. Okay. He could deal with this. All he needed to do was find Chris and maybe he could manage.

But all it took was you looking up and waving Jisung over for him to cave, already drawn toward you like a magnet. He couldn’t just leave. Not when you were smiling at him like that. Jisung ended up rattling off some praise for Felix (genuine, because he wouldn’t half-heartedly give him praise just because you liked Felix and not him), and Felix had blushed over it. His gaze fell down to the flowers in his hands, and Felix smiled again.

“Aren’t they sweet?” The tissue paper rustled in Felix’s grasp, and he swayed toward you ever-so-slightly. “They’re so sweet.”

Jisung didn’t say that he was with you when you bought them, that he’d been the one to push them to you. “They have a really good eye for these things,” he said instead. “They fit you perfectly.”

“I know!” Felix looked up, beaming with pure joy. “They’ve never given a bad present before. I don’t really know how they do it.”

Jisung did. You kept a running list in your notes app of things that people said they liked, or things they said they wanted, or things that they needed that you constantly updated. Plus, you made a point to subtly ask about things close to holidays and birthdays, too. All the things you needed to give a good gift that people wanted and would appreciate. The only other person who knew about this was Chris, and that was because he’d caught you editing it. Even if Jisung hadn’t given you the tulips, he knew Felix would have loved the sunflowers or the roses. 

“I think I saw Chris,” Jisung said after a moment of seeing the (admittedly cute) way you and Felix kept glancing at each other. He started to move away, “I’m gonna go say hi.”

“Oh, I can come too!” You were flustered, all too aware of how much of Felix’s time you’d taken for yourself. “I mean, I’m sure Felix is tired of me hogging him, y’know?”

“It’s fine,” Felix said, smiling still. “I like talking to you.”

While his attention was still on you, Jisung made a point to nod toward Felix. Stay right there. He knew you wanted to talk to Felix, after all. You’d relaxed a moment later, planting yourself right where you were as you turned back to Felix. He’d already begun asking you something about an MMO he’d gotten you into, and Jisung turned tail to make his way to Chris. 

Jisung ended up leaving the arts building before you ever did, stepping out into the chilly night air. Chris was there to give you a ride home, after all: you didn’t need to ride the bus to Jisung’s apartment and then back to your own in the way you always insisted on doing. Chris had offered to drive him home, but Jisung waved him off. He needed the alone time to think, and the bus ride that took him home was the perfect time for it. He’d already begun writing lyrics in the notes app on his phone half-way there, and soon enough he’d put them into ink in his songwriting notebook. Just to get those feelings down while the wound was fresh and oozing ink.

You’d texted him that night to say that you were getting lunch with Felix that week. He had other shows most nights, but he’d make time for lunch with you anytime. He’d wondered for a moment until you finally said the magic word: Felix could do ‘evening dates’ with you another time. Yet you still texted him a moment later, asking if Felix meant date dates. All Jisung could say was that it might: he wasn’t Felix. He couldn’t tell you yes.

All he could tell you was that he was genuinely happy for you, even though the emotion never reached him in that moment.

When he woke up the next morning, he’d realized he fell asleep at his desk. His spine was aching at this point, and he realized that there was ink smudged on his hand and his cheek. He’d written down messy, clumsy lyrics that were nowhere near as good as he could make them. Jisung glanced over them again and again. The ink had smudged on the page, which meant he should copy them over to a fresh one after he showered. The melody would come to him while he washed off his regret anyway.

All of it was sloppy in the way a work in progress often was. But he had time to write it better.

A week later, you had curled up on Jisung’s bed while you were waiting for him to finish an assignment. The two of you had plans to go out to dinner, and you always ended up showing up a little too early. It never bothered Jisung, who was currently hard at work on a composition due for class soon. You admired him for a moment as he bobbed his head along to whatever he was working on, lips pressed tightly together in concentration. He’d already told you he wasn’t going to finish it tonight—but he just wanted a little more progress before he went anywhere with you. Which just left you to scroll through YouTube idly, eyeing the videos of ducks that kept popping onto your feed. All it took was one video from Felix for you to fall down this rabbit hole, and you were honestly fine with that. He made you happy.

Absent-mindedly, you started to reach toward Jisung’s desk. He always kept a stack of sticky notes on it, and you were hoping to blindly snag it without bothering Jisung. Yet he glanced up for half a second before pushing the cube over to you, offering a pen out to you without a word. You accepted it, thanking him out loud even though he was still entranced with whatever song he was working on. He hadn’t shared any of this one with you yet, but you weren’t going to push. He would show it to you when he was good and ready, and if he didn’t, then you just assumed it’d be more personal. All you did was roll onto your stomach, leaving your phone next to you as you began to doodle on the sticky notes. Jisung sometimes kept your silly little doodles, sticking them to his monitor before eventually throwing them out. There was still a pink one stuck to the corner of his screen with a little puppy on it, surrounded by little flowers.  You’d started drawing tulips on this new sticky note without thinking, followed by other flowers that you remembered seeing in that shop.

Jisung pulled the headphones off his head, looking over at you. He was wearing glasses again today—a rare sight since he started wearing contacts—and the monitor reflected in them. “Sorry,” he said, watching you doodle for a moment longer. “I’m almost done, I promise.”

“It’s okay,” you didn’t look up, humming to yourself as you kept drawing. “Take your time. I don’t mind waiting.”

(When other people said such things, jisung always felt a little on edge. Did they really mean it, or were they just pacifying him? But when you did it, he never had to doubt you. You always gave him this little reassuring smile. You meant it, and that was something else he loved about you.)

“I mean it,” you said, just like you always did to try and reassure him further. “I’ll be right here when you’re done, okay?”

Sometimes that promise would end in you falling asleep on his bed, always after you had a particularly long or rough day. He never woke you up: he’d just pulled a blanket over you and went to sleep on the couch for the night. He always made it up to you by buying breakfast that following morning. You did the same for him, after all.

Jisung replaced his headphones, but left one side off so he could hear you. A clear sign that he was open to conversation now, less focused on the work at hand. His way of winding down without dropping the project entirely. “How,” he said, and then paused for just a second as he clicked something else, “was lunch with Felix?”

The heat traveled to your face immediately, and you averted your gaze. “It was nice.” 

“Oh?” He swayed a little, turning his chair slightly. “So no wedding yet? I was practicing to be the flower girl, you know.”

You flipped him off, and he snorted. 

“I wouldn’t make a good one?” He faked offense. “I think I’d be cute.” 

“The cutest,” you rolled your eyes, yet still found yourself smiling. “Are you gonna show me the song you’re working on, or is this one another mystery?”

Jisung turned toward his computer again, not quite looking at you anymore. “It’s not ready yet.” 

You looked up at him, the way he sounded a little distant piquing your curiosity. It wasn’t ready yet…? You shrugged it off. What reason would Jisung have to lie to you…? Maybe he didn’t want your opinions this time around. There was nothing wrong with that, to be fair: Chris and Changbin were both better for musical analysis. But he’d always valued your opinions on something that was so important to him, and you always tried to pay attention to his lyricism and compliment him where you could.

Yet you doodled a little rose in the corner of the note. “Okay,” you dragged out the word, rolling onto your side after a moment, just to face him for a second. “If you ever want to show me, I’ll be happy to listen.”

“I’ll let you know if I need you.” A moment later, he met your eyes and smiled—just to reassure you that he was fine.

With said reassurance, you returned to lying on your stomach and doodling. You stuck the sticky note with flowers onto the side of his desk, and started doodling paw prints and hearts onto the new note. “I think we should go out.”

“Huh?!”

Immediately, your heart leapt into your throat. Fuck, that’s not what you meant—why did he have to sound so bothered by it?! Was dating you really such a weird idea…? You just prayed he couldn’t see how flustered you’d become, tugging at the collar of your shirt. When did your skin start burning…? “Felix told me about this nice restaurant and I figured we could go scope it out,” you said quickly. At least this wasn’t a lie or anything: Felix did send you the name of a nice place for a future date.

“Shouldn’t you check it out with him?”

You rolled your eyes. “You know how I am.”

Maybe it was silly, but you had this thing about scoping places out if you knew where someone was taking you. You did the same thing whenever your family was in the area and wanted to check something new out, just so you knew that there was something on the menu that you’d like. If someone else was treating you, you always felt guilty if you didn’t like what they were paying for. Jisung asked you once why you didn’t just look up the menu online and pick from there.

You had looked at him that day. “Jisung. What if they don’t make it good? What if they add extra stuff I don’t like and it’s gross after I ask them to take it off?” You frowned, hugging yourself. “Then I feel bad for wasting my money, or my date’s money, or my parents' money…” 

He hadn’t questioned you on it further and offered to be your test-date if you needed him. He’d never judge your taste, after all. If he was busy, you’d just drag Chris into going wherever with you—always offering to pay for him even though he had the better job out of the two of you. It was nice to go out with Jisung, though. He always seemed to know what you were going to pick off of the menu, the same way you knew his tastes. Speaking of…

“Jisungie?” You smiled at him, ready to sweeten the deal in a way he couldn’t refuse. “I’ll buy you cheesecake after.”

Immediately, you saw the way he pressed his lips together. You knew one of the ways to his heart and it was always through something sweet like cheesecake. A moment later, he melted, smiling as he turned back to save what he was working on. You left the sticky notes on his desk and hopped up, announcing you’d be waiting for him and made your way out. Minho had been curled up on the couch with a book, glancing up when you came in.

“Jisung and I are going to get dinner. Are you coming?”

Minho glanced over to where Jisung had emerged from his room, then shook his head. “I already ate.” 

Whatever. The two of you would have fun on your own, then. Through the power of digital maps and following directions, you and Jisung managed to find the place easily enough. The two of you ended up seated in the corner, ordering quickly enough before you were left alone. With a sigh, you’d begun to swirl your straw in your drink, mind wandering a bit. Your date with Felix had been nice, but you always felt so fluttery with him. Being around Jisung was… easier. You didn’t feel the need to force any conversation with him, the two of you were content to have a minute of quiet if that was what you both needed. It was a weird change to feel around him, to be honest. In the past, being around Felix was always easy. Now that you knew he liked you back…  It was different. You couldn’t help but wonder if things would be different if Jisung liked you back, if this were a date. Then you pushed the thought away: you needed to stop thinking things like that. 

“What’s on your mind?” Jisung had peeked up at you from where he was scrolling through social media on his phone, frowning a little.

With a sigh, you knew he’d pick up on your mood. “I feel like I’m gonna turn into one of those people who only talks about dating.” You fiddled with the sleeve of your sweater—your favorite color this time. “But…”

“I’m listening,” he said. “Is everything okay?”

Why did he have to look at you so earnestly? Jisung had the prettiest eyes, especially when they looked so shiny—like boba pearls, someone once said. You nodded a moment later. “Just… I dunno. I like Felix, but I keep getting nervous with him.” You tapped your toes against the floor, a little restless already. “I mean… I know he likes me, but… I dunno. We haven’t kissed or anything.”

“Has he said anything?” Jisung ran a hand through his hair, fluffing it effortlessly. How the hell did he always do that…? “What are you two doing next?”

“We were gonna see a movie and then get food here,” you paused, looking up from where you’d started staring at your hands. “And maybe dessert, if he’s interested.” 

“Was it your idea or his?”

“His, but—”

“Then I think you’re overthinking it,” Jisung said gently. “I think…” He trailed off for a moment, and then cleared his throat. “I think he likes you because you’re you. And… And, um,” he glanced down for just a second, “and if anyone doesn’t like you, then… I don’t think they deserve you.” 

Your heart skipped a beat. How was he so sweet? He seemed so nervous now, the way he always seemed to get when he was a little more sentimental with you. Like he was treading lightly, so as to not say the wrong thing. You’d told him once that there was nothing he could say that would upset you, and so far that still rang true. You had your fair share of disagreements over the years, but Jisung was your best friend. If you had soulmates in this life, then Jisung was one of them. “Jisung…”

He just silently watched you for a moment, gauging your reaction as he carefully tried to find any signs that he’d slipped up. 

You just buried your face in your hands a moment late, skin burning hot already. He’d melted your heart all too easily, dooming you to pine for him forever. No matter how far you went from him, no matter if you moved on, Jisung eternally had a piece of your heart and he didn’t even know it. Finally, you found the strength to speak, voice small: “I don’t deserve you.”

Your date with Felix was going well. The movie was fun, and dinner went great (especially going in knowing that you already liked some of the menu). He’d been gushing about video games and the movie, and now he was talking about a new recipe he was workshopping. His fingers were intertwined with yours as you walked aimlessly, no plan in place for where you were going next. You liked how warm Felix’s hands were, and the way he would run his thumb over your hand—just a tender little way of showing he was still there with you. 

“Maybe… I could bake with you sometime?” You squeezed his hand a little. “If you want an assistant.”

He lit up at the suggestion, already beaming again with joy. “I’d love that! I could teach you whatever you don’t know.” He paused, cheeks flushing red. “I think… you’d be a cute assistant, too.”

Your heart leapt into your throat at that, face growing warmer at the thought. Felix was always so cute, so affectionate, and the way he giggled at your flustered face only made you more embarrassed. Yet your mind had started to drift to the walk you’d taken with Jisung after dinner that night, heading toward your usual place for dessert….

Only to be jostled from your thoughts as Felix’s shoulder bumped against yours, getting your attention back with ease. “You okay?” He paused, and then smiled as he squeezed your hand. “You wanna get ice cream?”

Ice cream sounded perfect. You’d been wanting to bring up dessert, but you weren’t sure if he had room for it after dinner and splitting popcorn with you earlier. Then your mind turned to the brownies you’d had with Jisung… “Actually… There’s this place I go sometimes—”

“With Jisung?” Felix asked. He didn’t seem jealous or bothered in the slightest. “I’ve actually been wanting to go there with you.”

You slowed to a stop. “You have?”

He nodded. “Yeah, but… I dunno. I guess I started thinking I was overstepping since that place was always you and Jisung. You guys always take us somewhere else if we’re all going, so…”

What?

Felix shrugged, and started walking again. You fell into step with him. He continued on after a moment, “You two are really close. I mean… I’ve been places with my friends that I haven’t gone with you all, y’know? Maybe we keep stuff for our friends sometimes.”

The shop had always been a place for you and Jisung, sure, but neither of you ever intended for it to be exclusively for you two. Minho had gone with the two of you once or twice, and so had Chris. Now that you were thinking about it, this place wasn’t even the place you two used to frequent. That place closed down a little over a year ago, and you’d found this place shortly after that. The two of you had gotten a to-go order that first time to try in his apartment and fell in love with the dessert there. 

“It’s not our place,” you said after a moment. “If you want ice cream, we can get ice cream instead. I just started thinking about their brownies—”

Felix was already intrigued. “Do you wanna go?” He squeezed your hand a little, giddy at the idea. “We can split one, if you want?”

Perfect. “I’d love that,” you giggled. “They’re huge and they put a scoop of vanilla on top and drizzle it with caramel—you’ll love it.”

And he did: he fed you the first bite, just to be cheesy. His eyes always seemed to twinkle when he looked at you, so thoroughly endeared to you day after day. He’d hummed in bliss at his own first bite of the dessert before talking about how the salted caramel complimented the sweetness of the vanilla ice cream and the slight bitterness of whatever dark chocolate was in the brownie. It all came together beautifully, and all you could do was admire how pretty Felix was. He’d held your hand again after the two of you left, and held on tight for the entire walk home. 

“May I…?”

You turned your cheek to him, and he pressed a kiss against it. His lips were soft against your cheek, lingering there for a few extra seconds before he drew away. He’d already started talking about planning your next date soon, leaving it there. He took a few steps back, waiting until you unlocked the door to your apartment before he waved and made his way in the opposite direction. You retreated into your apartment with the sappiest smile on your face, already on cloud nine. In the sanctuary of your apartment, you buried your face in your hands, trying to ignore how heavily your heart was thumping in your ears.

“Someone had a good time.”

Chris had stood near the entryway, two glasses in his hands. He must have been on his way back to the living room, and you waved him on as you slipped out of your shoes and into your house slippers. Right as you were ready to tell Chris a little about how your date had gone, you spotted Changbin on the couch. With a polite way, you decided to hold off. Chris could wait to hear things tomorrow, and you told him that as you made your way toward your room.

“Did he walk you back?” Chris called out, and you hung back long enough to nod. “You could have invited him in for a minute—”

“Oh, fuck no.” You loved Chris, and maybe it would have been polite, but he had too much dirt on you. The fact you’d managed to be friends with everyone this long without having all your embarrassing stories spilled was a miracle in itself. “I love you, but I don’t need you to embarrass both of us, Chris.”

Chris only burst into giggles, knowing that you were right and that Felix would have agreed with you in a heartbeat. “I wouldn’t do it too bad!”

Big brother energy. Big bother energy, too. You opened your bedroom door. “You absolutely would,” you called back. “Love you!”

Yet it was right as you were closing the door that you heard Changbin speak up, clearly not intending for you to hear: “I thought they were…” Then a pause, just for a second. “... What about Jisung?”

You shut your bedroom door as quietly as you could, praying that no one noticed you’d caught that. You pressed your back against it for a minute, wondering where you had slipped up. Were you that obvious? Did everyone but Jisung know that you liked him and he didn’t like you back? No. No, no one else could know, right? If they knew, they would have said something by now—especially with the fact that you and Felix weren’t hiding the fact you were dating. Speaking of…

You texted him to get home safe, tacking on a yellow heart after it. He attached a little heart to the message soon enough, and you smiled to yourself. He’d text you when he got home, the way he usually did. All you could do now was start getting ready for bed as you let your mind drift back to what Changbin had been saying. If Changbin knew, then there was no telling if he’d accidentally spill it. What if Jisung found out…? He’d look at you differently, wouldn’t he? Especially since you’d asked him to help you get with Felix. What if he connected the dots and figured out that you were dating Felix because you were trying to move on? What if Felix found out and he hated you for it…? A world in which Jisung and Felix hated you was one you didn’t want to live in, and your heart began to race at the thought. Shit. What if…? You wanted to reach for your phone, to call Jisung. But Jisung would ask some questions to help you calm down, and you weren’t sure if you could be vague enough to keep him from finding out. 

Instead, you threw yourself into doing research for an essay. The less you thought about it all, the better off you’d be. The only thing that pulled you out of your thoughts was the text that popped up over an hour later from Felix. He’d sent you a picture of himself with a face mask on, dressed and ready for bed, and apologizing that he didn’t text you sooner. It was followed up with a “sleep well 💙we’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?” that left you smiling.

Felix was cute. He was sweet. He liked you, and you liked him. All you needed to do was push past your feelings for Jisung, and things would work out. Letting go was the hardest part of loving someone who wouldn’t love you back, and you needed to learn how to do it.

Maybe Felix could help you learn how to do that by loving you extra loud.

“You’re both slacking, you know!”

Jisung looked up at the sound of your voice carrying across the apartment. Barely milliseconds later, he heard Minho groan at you for pointing out the fact the apartment was a little unkempt. Fuck, you were here sooner than he thought—he’d seen your text over half an hour saying you were coming, but you were ‘taking your time’ for whatever reason. You’d given him a time, and even still he was surprised by how soon you’d showed up.

“I told you to text before you come!”

You’d stopped for a minute to turn to huff at him. “I did!” 

“Text me, not just Jisung.” There was no venom in his words, purely Minho ribbing you, but Jisung jolted from his chair. Shit, his room was a mess still. Minho had to know, didn’t he? This was him giving him a chance to tidy before you came in. “He’s been in his room all day, by the way.”

“What?” You hadn’t moved. “Really? Is he behind, or…?”

Yes, keep distracting them, Jisung shoved trash into the small trash can next to his desk—all wrappers from snacks. The sticky notes from his monitor were neatly hidden away in the bottom drawer with all the others you’d left him. Minho was rattling something off about how he knew Jisung had been hard at work, although he’d barely checked on him since he seemed to be focused. He’d tie up the bag and take it out of his room later, after you left. He made up his bed as you asked something about one of Jisung’s classes, to which Minho said a curt “I don’t know, I’m not his mom,” which earned ribbing from you considering how Minho acted like a mom at times. A second later, your voice was a little louder, having stepped closer to his room.

He threw himself back into his chair, pulled his headphones on, and pretended to be hard at work. Don’t notice the fact he’s still panting a little—he was just… running. A marathon. Really. He heard your quick knock, followed by the creak of his bedroom door a moment later. When you waved your hand in front of his face, he pretended to jolt back, pushing his headphones around his neck as he looked up at you.

With a smile, you held up the takeout. “How much do you love me?”

More than you knew. No wonder you told him you weren’t sure you’d be there on time. He accepted the bag, already working to undo the knot. “I don’t deserve you.”

You pulled over the spare chair, pulling it over to his desk. “Minho said you’ve been busy all day. Everything okay?”

He nodded. “Just working on that paper on music history,” he set aside the plastic-wrapped utensils. “It’s due in a few days, but I’m behind on it, so…”

You frowned a little. “Okay, but… Have you eaten today?” When he didn’t move, you’d been given your answer. “Aw, Jisungie…”

“I’ve snacked?”

“That’s not the same thing,” you leaned against his desk. “I guess I came at a good time, then.” 

He nodded, pulling the knot undone. He set your food aside. “I think Minho tried to check on me earlier. I don’t really remember.”

It wouldn’t be the first time, and both of you knew that. “Are you gonna share this time?”

He let out a groan. One time he ate all the steamed dumplings, and you’ve never let him live it down. “I always share,” he said, setting the container where both of you could reach it. “Take however many you want.”

“Not those,” you said, before pausing for a moment. “Well, yes those, but…” You pointed your chopsticks toward his computer. “Any of your work. I feel like I haven’t heard any of it this semester.” 

“You’re usually with Felix,” he said, voice a little quieter. “I mean… You two are usually going out and doing things, you know?” He hoped you understood him: you couldn’t be around to hear things when you were out with him. 

“Not the entire semester,” you frowned again. Then you sighed, balancing your food in your lap. “But you’re right.” Then you paused, brows drawing together. “Wait… Am I spending too much time with Felix?”

Jisung shook his head quickly. “No! No, you two are fine—I just meant—”

You reached out, squeezing his shoulder, “No, Jisung. I’m sorry.”

The way you sounded so genuinely upset only broke his heart a little. He didn’t mean to imply you shouldn’t be spending time with Felix—the two of you were dating after all. “Don’t feel bad about Felix—”

You stopped him there again. “No, I mean… I know we’re dating, but that’s no excuse to ignore you. I don’t want to be the kind of person who dumps their friends entirely, all just because I’m seeing someone. That’s not fair to you.”

His face grew warmer. Had you thought about this before…? You’d always been so conscious of your friendships when dating in the past. Sure, you spent more time with past partners, but he’d never felt neglected. No one did. “You aren’t dumping any of us. It’s okay.”

Yet that didn’t seem to stop you. “We should go out this weekend,” you said. “Like we usually do. I have to work Saturday morning, but my evening is yours.” 

His? Jisung ignored the way his heart skipped a beat at that. It didn’t mean anything. “But what about Felix?”

You pressed your lips together. “If he doesn’t understand ‘best friend time,’ then he’s not the one.” You shrugged. “My partner shouldn't stop me from hanging out with friends. I’m never going to date anyone like that. I wouldn’t want anyone to put their life on pause entirely for me, you know?”

Jisung had always loved that about you. You loved your friends wholeheartedly, and you were always so, so loyal to them. In your past relationships, you’d always found time for friends. They understood whenever you prioritized the relationship during that initial phase, sure, but it always just felt… wrong to drop them entirely during that period. You needed to balance your time, after all.

Jisung swallowed his own pain. “How are you two?”

“You don’t want to hear about us.”

“I do,” he insisted. “You don’t have to share anything, but… You’re both still my friends. Jeongin said he saw you two on a date.”

You fumbled with your chopsticks, immediately growing flustered. “Oh my god. Felix kept telling me that he was positive it wasn’t him—I knew it was! Holy shit—”

“He didn’t say anything bad!” Jisung panicked a little, carefully removing your food from your lap before it could get spilled in your movement. He moved his chair over, giving you some of his desk space so you wouldn’t have to use your lap as a table anymore. “All he said was that you two were holding hands and giggling. He said it was sweet.”

You refused to look at Jisung, still too embarrassed to do anything more than push your food around its plate. “He’s… really sweet,” you admitted after a moment. “I dunno how I feel, honestly, and I kinda feel bad about that. He’s nice to talk to, and he’s sweet, but… I dunno. I keep getting worried that I’m leading him on if I’m not all-in already.” Your knee bumped against Jisung’s. “You changed the subject, by the way.” 

Shit, you caught him. Jisung just moved the dumplings between the two of you again, trying to distract you. When you gave him a pointed look, he knew you weren’t going to drop it yet. With a sigh, he shrugged. “I’ll show you after I finish one. They aren’t good yet.” 

“Bullshit,” you said. “Your works’ always good. Even when it’s a work in progress—I can always tell that you love what you’re doing. I love how devoted you are to it… and to us, y’know.” 

Now it was his turn to be embarrassed, always so easily flustered. How did complimenting him come so easily to you? 

“You don’t have to share it if you aren’t ready or if you don’t want to,” you said after a moment. “You can tell me that, though. I’ll stop asking.”

Jisung looked up, nodding. “Later,” he promised, running a hand through his hair nervously. “When I’m ready.”

You giggled, squeezing his knee. “That’s all I needed to know,” you said. “I’ll be here for you when you want to share, alright?”

Tell them. The little voice in the back of Jisung’s mind was nagging him again, and all he could do was admire how giddy you were getting over dumplings. He loved how you found joy in little things like this, too. Tell them so they can break your heart and get it over with.

Then something clicked in his mind, something he’d glazed over entirely. “You… might not like Felix?”

You avoided his gaze, as though you were ashamed. There was nothing wrong with not being sure of your feelings, and yet you’d shrunk before him, unsure. “I don’t know. I… I like him, but I’m not sure how far it goes.”

“You should figure it out soon,” he said softly. Regardless of his own feelings for you, Felix was his friend. You clearly were, too. It was unfair if you stopped feeling things and kept seeing him. “Felix is a really good person. If you want to date him, you should be up front about it. He won’t hold it against you if you don’t feel the same, you know? Do what will make you happy.” 

You looked up from your food a moment later, a soft look in his eyes. He’d seen you and accepted you without any harsh judgment. Someone else might have told you off for being unsure, but not Jisung. Never Jisung. Feelings were complicated, after all. If you weren’t sure, then you weren’t sure. All you needed was time to figure it out. You wouldn’t drag things out to hurt Felix. You turned, leaning over the side of your chair to wrap your arms around him. He relaxed into your embrace, reaching up a hand to squeeze your arm.

“I’m really glad you’re in my life, Jisung.” You shut your eyes, squeezing him extra tight for a second. “I really, really love you, y’know?”

Why did that feel like a confession? His heart was racing, and he just squeezed you gently. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he savored this moment. “Yeah,” he said, praying that you didn’t notice how warm his face was getting, or hear how fast his heart was racing. “Love you, too.”

A moment later, you drew away, hands lingering on his arm for a moment too long. Then you were hit with realization. “Oh!” You drew away from him, “I forgot to get us drinks.” The wheels noisily rolled against the floor as you stood up. “I’ll go see what’s in the fridge, alright?”

Before he could offer to go, you were gone. Jisung watched the door shut behind you, and let out a long sigh as he relaxed into his chair. How long would it take for him to get past this? Every little moment like this with you only made his feelings burrow deeper into his chest. It felt as though he’d hit bedrock and somehow managed to keep digging. Something squeezed in his chest, and he felt as though he was going to suffocate in that moment. 

Jisung loved you too much, and now it was starting to hurt even more.

Felix was… Felix. He’d been kind to you from the first day you met him. He was sweet. Sometimes insecure, but most people were, weren’t they? He was warmer than sunshine, though, and you had always felt like you were on top of the world when you were with him. He had that ability to just spread joy in other people, that pretty smile enough to give anyone butterflies—especially when you heard his laugh afterward. He’d always drifted toward others, always ready to give a warm hug when someone needed it (or even just wanted it). Felix was sunshine in human form…

So what changed? He was smiling that cute, smitten smile that he always seemed to have when he was around you. He played with your fingers, talking about his day and asking you about your own. The two of you hadn’t been going out that long, yet those weeks seemed to shift subtly more and more until you were where you were now. The time he first kissed your cheek felt so distant now. He still liked to press little kisses against your cheek, and you often did the same to him, too. So what was wrong with you? His giggle still made your heart flutter, and the cute face he made when he got flustered was still adorable, but…

Chris had paused the movie the two of you were watching one weekend, opting to study you for a moment. You’d been scrolling through your social media feeds, too bored with the stilted leads. They were reciting shitty dialogue written by someone who clearly didn’t know what love was. Then again… What was love like?

“Hey. Can we talk?” 

You looked up, confused. When did Chris get so serious…? “What’s wrong?”

“I love you, but…” He let out a sigh. “I just wanted to say that I think you should cut things off with Felix if you aren’t interested.”

What? You never said you weren’t interested. Felix was sweet, and nice, and you felt great when you were around him still. “What?”

“I don’t know—Whenever I look at the two of you now, it looks like you’re always thinking about something.” Chris paused for a moment, and then frowned at you. “You know you can tell me anything, right? I’m still here for you. I just don’t want you and Felix to get hurt.” 

You hugged yourself. “I know, I just…”

“Just… Figure it out, yeah?” Chris let out a sigh. “I love you so, so much. And I love Felix, too. When you said you were interested in him, I was really excited for you both, yeah? But, I don’t know, I can’t shake this weird feeling now.” He paused for a moment, eyes searching your own now. “I didn’t push you into this, did I?”

“No! No,” you shook your head, “you didn’t. I was crushing on him for a while.” You drew your knees a little closer to you, shifting into a more comfortable position. “I… I don’t know.” 

Maybe you should kiss him. Just to see how it felt. 

“I guess…” You trailed off for a moment, hugging your blanket closer to you. “I guess I’m just not sure about anything anymore. I like hanging out with him. And… I like him. I just don’t know how I feel anymore.”

Chris frowned as he watched you. He understood, though: feelings were always complicated in some way, weren’t they? “You should tell him soon once you figure it out.” The way he was being so insistent on it meant someone talked to him. Was it Felix…? Had Felix confided in him? He sat up, reaching for the near-empty bowl of popcorn. He dropped the remote into your lap. “I’m gonna make more popcorn. Find something actually good to watch, yeah?”

“This was your pick, you know.” 

He just rustled your hair before moving on. With a new movie picked out, Chris settled into the space next to you rather than his usual spot. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his side as he pressed a kiss onto the top of your head. He’d always given you little kisses like that when you were upset, and the habit never really died. It comforted you even now, reminding you of simpler times. He’d cared for you once when you were a child, rushing to your side when you skinned his knee. Admittedly it was because you’d been chasing after him, but he’d cared for you the same way he did for his siblings. He bandaged your knee, kissing it better the way his parents always did before kissing your forehead. His parents told him that it helped it heal faster. And, sure, the two of you had been dumb kids then, but the kisses now always reminded you that you weren’t going through things alone. Chris was always right there with you, the older brother you never had. 

It was sweet. At least you would always have Chris in your corner, right next to Jisung.

Felix kissed you.

The two of you had walked home from dinner that night with your pinkies linked together. You’d grown quieter with each step, listening to Felix as he filled the space with soft conversation until it, too, was drowned in the sounds of the night. The sound of cars driving past, the chirp of crickets, the wind as it kissed your skin. But Felix was right there with you, still tethered to you by your pinkies. Even now, he looked at you so sweetly whenever he caught your eye. He’d fixed your jacket, or brushed a stray strand of hair back from your face. When you were finally back in front of your apartment, he’d asked if he could kiss you. You said yes, and he closed that distance between you. All at once, you knew: Felix wasn’t it.

Maybe there would never be anyone like Jisung for you. But you couldn’t be upset about that. It wasn’t his fault you fell for him somewhere along the way. And now you were standing in front of your apartment, an eternity seeming to pass as Felix kissed you gently. His lips were slightly chapped this time, fingers gently holding your face. One of the neighbors must have opened their door and seen from the way it opened and immediately shut. 

A moment later, Felix pulled away since you never actually reciprocated. The hurt in his eyes told you everything: he knew. His hands were still holding your face, thumbs running over the apples of your cheeks. Shit. Fuck, you’d hurt him, all while you were hurting, too. Yet you saw the way he tried to fight back tears, blinking quickly as he took in a shaky breath.

When he spoke, his voice was strained. “This… wasn’t ever going somewhere, was it?”

Even after you’d hurt him, he was still so gentle with you. You wished he were angry with you, or upset, or anything other than the man who was forcing a smile in front of you now. If he yelled at you or started crying, then you could apologize. You could try to fix things. All he did was keep that forced smile as he drew his hands back, letting them fall to his sides again. With the tiniest step back, your worlds seemed to break apart. Why couldn’t he just  yell at you? You’d hurt him, and he just… He looked at you like he still thought the world of you.

“That’s okay.” His voice was so much quieter. It was as though his sunlight had been snuffed out. “I had fun.”

“Felix—”

“I mean it,” he said, taking another small step back. “I… I really hope this doesn’t hurt our friendship. I still like talking to you, and—and I like being your friend. And you’re kind-of good at games, so we could, um—we could still use yours if you wanted to play with us, and…”

He was rambling. All you could do was step forward, pulling him into your arms to hug him tight. All too easily, he crumpled into your embrace, holding you tight. 

“I’m sorry, Felix.” You hoped he would forgive you someday. Not today. Not too soon, not too easily. You didn’t deserve that. “I should have known sooner.”

He shut his eyes for a moment, taking in another shaky breath before pulling away from you. “It’s okay. You didn’t know.” He paused. “You should head in. I’m sure Chris is worried. I’ll probably get a text from him on my way home. You know how he is—he always worries, and, um, he… worries a lot about if I’m getting home safe, and…”

You punched in your apartment’s code, stepping back into the doorway. You turned to face Felix one last time, heart breaking in your chest. He forced one more smile as he looked at you.

“Goodnight,” he said, voice soft as ever.

You swallowed hard. “Goodnight, Felix. Get home safely.”

And then you shut the door, securing the door as you pressed your forehead against it. You waited, hoping that Felix had taken off as soon as the door was shut before you slammed your fist into it. Chris was out. You hadn’t seen his shoes when you stepped in, his house slippers left in their usual spot. All too quickly, you kicked your shoes off, heading toward your room as you started to strip off your clothes. You just wanted to be in your pajamas, curled up in bed. The heartbreak wasn’t what was hurting you more: it was knowing you’d hurt Felix, and he was going to go home, and he was going to cry because Felix was someone everyone treated with care. He wasn’t fragile, but he was gentler. A softer person. There was a reason why Minho joked with him differently, after all. 

At least you were alone now. Chris would have asked questions. Everyone would have, except… You’d picked up your phone, opening it up to Jisung’s contact. Jisung wouldn’t ask questions. Jisung would hold you and let you cry. But he was Felix’s friend first. 

All you could do now was send a final text to Felix to get home safely. A little heart popped up next to the message, a sign that he saw it, and you shut your phone off afterward. You dragged yourself to bed, chest heavy and hurting as you pulled your blankets around yourself. Why couldn’t things just be different?

Why couldn’t you just turn your feelings off?

Jisung didn’t speak to you all week. 

This wasn’t him getting busy with schoolwork and shutting everyone out to work. Jisung did that with warning to everyone, just so no one worried about him. That was the rule for all of you. Life could be hectic, but no one was to completely shut everyone out without at least some sort of heads up so no one worried too much. Jisung had always been clear with telling you when he needed his space so that you could check in with him occasionally. The one person you needed most right now wasn’t responding to your texts, and that terrified you. He was pissed at you. He had to be, right? You had hurt Felix, and Jisung decided to side with the person he’d known longer. Messaging Minho yielded no answer, too. You had expected Felix to avoid you the way he was now, but even he had been more cordial to you. Sure, he was quieter, but that, again, was something you had expected. He apparently came by one day to see Chris, and you had never known until Chris offhandedly mentioned it.

You had to figure things out, which meant asking everyone separately. Chris had claimed he didn’t know anything about what was wrong with Jisung. He never acted any differently when they interacted, although it was a little more rare nowadays. Minho only responded to tell you that Jisung needed space, but that he wasn’t sure what had happened. Felix had messaged you back to first accept your apology for bothering him and then tell you that he wasn’t sure what happened. No one did. Jeongin seemed clueless that anything had happened, Changbin said he’d see what he could find out (only to come up fruitless in that attempt), and Seungmin had been buried in his own schoolwork. If anyone had known something, it would have been Minho.

Which… admittedly was why you decided to wait outside the dance studio he worked at. He was teaching kids dance now, and it paid well enough that he could support himself. Plus he seemed happy, always getting along well with the kids according to Felix and Hyunjin when they volunteered to help a few times. You knew that he locked up in the evenings because he was the last person out, always taking an hour to himself to practice his own dancing. You listened to the jingle of keys and the loud click of the door, followed by Minho making his way down the steps. He noticed you all too easily, and slowed to a stop.

He shook his head, pocketing his keys. “I’m not telling you anything,” he said, as though he’d been expecting you to track him down. Maybe he did. Minho could have his airheaded moments the way you had your own, but he wasn’t stupid. “How long have you been waiting?”

“Maybe half an hour.” You crossed your arms, shivering a little in the cold. Maybe longer, actually. “I just want to know what’s going on with Jisung. I’m worried, Minho—he hasn’t said anything to me.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “He’s just going through a few things.” He stepped down off that final step, making his way toward home. He turned, speaking to you again, “He’s not ready to talk to you, so give him space for now. He’ll talk to you when he’s ready.” Then he turned away again, continuing his walk away.

That wasn’t enough for you. You hurried to catch up to him, “Minho!” You fell into step next to him. “Why can’t he just tell me that? That’s all I needed to hear from him. He knows he can tell me things, I just—”

Minho stopped suddenly, turning to face you. He reached up, hands resting on your shoulders. “When he’s ready, he’ll tell you. Don’t worry about him,” his fingers dug into your shoulders for a quick squeeze, “I’m taking care of him. Just wait for him.” 

Before you could question him further, Minho let go of you. All you could do was stand there, stewing in your thoughts. Minho knew, then. What he knew exactly, you weren’t sure, but he at least knew what was wrong with Jisung. You drew your phone back out of your pocket, opening it to your unanswered messages to Jisung. Maybe you shouldn’t have,  but you needed to say at least one last thing before you stopped trying to contact him. Just to he knew that you were still on his side:

I’m here if you need me, Jisung. Please take care. Love you.

And by the time you were home, he had reacted with a heart. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to tell you he’d seen your messages. 

At least he’d given you that.

Jisung still wasn’t speaking to you another week later.

He knew about Felix. How could he not know about Felix? He knew that you had ended things with him. He knew that Hyunjin was beyond pissed at you, and he knew you’d eventually figure that out. Jisung had spilled his feelings to Hyunjin when he pushed again. That he had loved you for so long now that he couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t love you. Hyunjin, to his credit,  had quietly listened to Jisung as he told him everything. Then when he was done, he scowled to himself.

“They hurt Felix,” he had said. “Because they love you.”

Jisung shook his head. “You don’t have to say things like that. I know they don’t—”

“No, they do, and you need to realize that.” Hyunjin crumpled the paper cup of coffee, getting up to throw it into the trash. “That’s why they turned Felix down.”

What the hell—Did you say something to Hynjin? “Did they tell you?”

“No.” He crossed his arms. “But I know. It’s a gut feeling. I always thought you were lying to me, but…” He let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “You deserve better than them, Jisung.”

Immediately, he was taken aback. “What?”

“They fucked with Felix’s feelings,” he said, “and I think that’s fucked up. I don’t care that they have feelings for you—they should have left Felix out of it. Why would they do this to him?”

“They liked him,” Jisung said, already quick to defend you. He was hurting, yes, but he wasn’t going to just let Hyunjin insult you like this. You weren’t some cruel person—you had genuinely liked Felix. What, were you supposed to keep dating Felix when it turned out you didn’t feel the same way? “They wouldn’t have dated him if they didn’t.”

“Did they?” He balled his hands into fists. “Or were they just trying to get over you?”

“They wouldn’t have hurt him on purpose!” Jisung hated how he teared up now. He was angry, he wanted to defend you, and yet the stress of fighting back now was already getting to him. “They were figuring out how they felt—they’re not a bad person for figuring out that they don’t like him like that.”

“I mean it,” Hyunjin said. “You deserve better. Felix does, too.”

Jisung didn’t know what else to say. Nothing he could say would change Hyunjin’s mind, would it? He was pissed at you, and nothing Jisung could say on your behalf would do anything. Only you could change his mind. 

“I’m still here for you,” Hyunjin said, voice a little softer than before. “I know it’s hard. I’m sorry, Jisung.”

Of course he was still there for him. Everyone would be—including Felix, if he knew. He saw a picture pop up a few days later of Felix out with Hyunjin and Changbin, smiling genuinely at the camera. He’d heard about how badly Felix had been hurting those first few days–. Changbin said he’d been crying for so long that night, genuinely heartbroken by how everything had gone down. Not that Changbin was upset with you at all: relationships sometimes just didn’t work out. It sucked that Felix was hurt, but everyone (excluding Hyunjin, who’s loyalty to Felix admittedly blinded him to anything you were going through) understood that the situation was complicated. It had to be, right? The two of you seemed to fit together so well…

Jisung shut his eyes, listening as he reworked this part in his song about you for maybe the millionth time now. The lyrics weren’t completely right, not flowing the way he wanted them to. But he’d never been able to get them right every time he tried to rewrite them, and it was too personal a project to ask for a second opinion on. He’d stopped working on it to console Felix at one point, only for him to ask point black if Jisung actually did like you. He denied it. the same way he always did and always would, and Felix didn’t push. Jisung couldn’t like you now. Not when it would hurt someone, and especially when it would hurt someone like Felix. Denying his feelings hurt, but pursuing you just felt selfish.

Suddenly, his headphones were pulled off his ears, and Minho stood next to him. He glanced at the screen and already recognized it to be the piece that Jisung had been working on constantly when he wasn’t working on schoolwork, and sighed. Jisung watched as Minho wordlessly made his way over to his closet, opening the doors and searching through his shirts. He yanked one off, throwing it at Jisung, who scrambled to catch it.

“Get dressed,” Minho said before Jisung could question him. “Chris is on his way.”

Jisung furrowed his brows. Chris was…? He looked down at the clean white t-shirt in his hands. “Did something happen?”

“We’re all going out,” he said, searching for a clean pair of jeans. He threw those at him, too, and then turned. “You’ve barely left the apartment outside of work and class. We’re going to sing your feelings out. Bottling them up won’t help you.”

Jisung only stared at him. Writing a song about you was the opposite of bottling it up… right? “I’m not—”

“You don’t have to tell us everything,” he made his way over, giving Jisung a gentle pat on the head. “But you can depend on us. We’re here for you.”

Jisung looked down at the clothing Minho had oh-so-lovingly thrown in his face, and nodded. He left his headphones on his desk, moving to change once Minho had left him alone. Soon enough, he had changed, and even sooner after that, Chris had shown up. If you were upset, Chris hadn’t said a word about it. He just threw an arm around Jisung, already bragging about how he’d have the highest score tonight if Jisung didn’t bring his game. It was almost nice to act as though nothing was wrong, even though Jisung saw the concerned looks Chris kept taking. 

He’d run his fingers over the smooth seats in the karaoke room, listening as Chris put in an order for drinks and snacks. All of this was his treat, he’d insisted over and over. This was entirely his idea, apparently (an idea Minho didn’t refute at all). Jisung kept glancing at the door, wondering if this was some plan they’d concocted to make the two of you talk. 

“Jisung, you should sing first,” Minho said, prodding his side to get his attention. 

Jisung looked to his two friends, who began to chant his name to motivate him further. This wasn’t a trap to make the two of you talk, then. The tension eased off of him. They wouldn’t do that to him—not like this, at least. He waved his hands, though. “No—It’s fine! One of you can go first.”

Chris stood up and began to cycle through the songs, humming to himself before stumbling across one. “Jisungie,” he cooed, “will you sing with me?”

Of course Chris had found a duet. It was from two members of a popular boy group, and Jisung had… admittedly listened to it more than a few times over the past two weeks. The song was about heartbreak to the point of begging the listener to say yes, to sing this song with them again, to let them stay again. It was easier to sing alongside Chris than to sing along, to share his pain through another song he’d had on repeat. 

And it became healing to belt out a ballad with his friends until his throat ached. To break down crying afterwards and be held by them as he sobbed. Something inside of him had finally broken down in the way it needed to. When replacing his battery once, the guy behind the counter told Jisung that it was okay to let his phone die sometimes, because even it needed rest. He didn’t know enough to know if this was sound advice, but he had always kept the advice in mind at least. Was that what this was? Had his own battery finally run out and this was his way of resting rather than tirelessly pushing forward, recharge after recharge? He’d leaned into Minho’s side, sobbing into his sleeve while Chris rubbed circles onto his back. 

By the time they left after buying another hour, Jisung felt lighter. He would always carry this heartbreak for you within him, yearning for something he needed to let go of to be better. But more importantly, things finally seemed clearer to him. He knew how to fix his song, lyrics perfected in the back of his mind. He typed them out into his notes app while sitting in the back of Chris’s car, just so he wouldn’t lose them. The melody came to him easier—something he’d need to change a little to be just right—and he tapped it out onto his jean-clad leg. The moment he was home, he would put it down onto paper. 

And when he finished his song, he could finally let go. Jisung promised himself that he would, and when he did that, he could finally let you back in if you would have him.

Almost three weeks without Jisung, and you felt like you were holding yourself together with thread. At first, you’d been angry once Minho told you to just wait for Jisung. If it was this serious, then Jisung should have told you himself that he needed space. A lot of space, apparently. Then came worry,  because had you done something to upset him? Was that why he wouldn’t so much as look at you anymore? Had you hurt Jisung without even knowing it. Or… Or did he figure out the real reason why you couldn’t be with Felix? Someone must have suspected your feelings for Jisung now. Chris had to know. Changbin already suspected something. Surely, one of them would have hinted at it to Jisung… wouldn’t they? Night after night, you found yourself searching through every text from your friend group for some answer that you were sure would never come to you. Something that someone had said to hint at what was wrong with Jisung.

And then the answer came to you in what someone didn’t say. Hyunjin had never responded to a single one of your texts. You hadn’t noticed at the time, far too caught up in trying to figure out the puzzle that was Han Jisung and his disappearance from your life. But you’d had enough, and if Hyunjin had the answers, then it was time to put a stop to this. You’d buzzed his apartment, and Seungmin let you in without much of a second thought. Hyunjin sat at their dining table, sketchbook open in front of him while he worked on thumbnails for a new assignment. He looked up, and immediately you saw disgust cross his face.

“Tell me what’s wrong with Jisung.”

You weren’t asking anymore: this was a demand. A week ago, you would have scurried in and pleaded for Hyunjin to just talk to you. But the scorn in his eyes was enough to tell you that Hyunjin knew something and, for whatever reason, he was beyond pissed at you. He scowled at you for a moment, but let it go, fading into neutrality. He leaned back after a moment, giving you a quick once-over.

“You’re being rude.”

Was he serious right now? Of all the people to deal with… “Hyunjin.” You folded your arms across your chest. “I mean it. If you do know something, then tell me already.”

His gaze was cold still, expression not betraying his true thoughts. “It’s none of your business.”

“Bullshit!” You snapped at him, fists balled as you stepped forward. “It’s been almost three weeks and I haven’t seen Jisung the entire fucking time—If it’s bad, then at least say that!” 

“What do you think the problem is?!” Hyunjin truly was pissed with you, voice now raising as he stood up. He pushed his sketchbook aside to where it would be safe, and stared you down. “You broke Felix’s heart, and it’s hurting the rest of us—and you should have thought about that before you asked him out.”

You sputtered. Was he pissed at you because things didn’t work out? “I didn’t know we wouldn’t work out! What was I supposed to do—pretend I still had feelings for him?”

“Tell him sooner.” He clenched his jaw. “Don’t lead him on when you clearly have feelings for Jisung.”

Seungmin gasped behind you, and you found yourself at a loss for words. Hyunjin knew? When—How—How the fuck did Hyunjin find out? You swore you’d always hidden your feelings well, but… “What are you talking about?”

His gaze was ice cold now, and he scowled at you once more. “You went out with Felix because you didn’t want to admit it. Now Jisung feels bad because he helped set you two up because you asked—Did you even like Felix?!” 

“I did!” You did. You truly did. But not every relationship was meant to last—and, hell, you never even became anything official. If you could turn back time, you would have ended things sooner. “I did,” you said, your voice softer as you reined in your temper. “I wouldn’t just mess with Felix like that, Hyunjin. He’s my friend, too.” You brought your arms up to hug yourself. “Hyunjin, do you really think I’d do that?”

Hyunjin didn’t say anything for a moment, the regret clear on his face. His fingers grazed the wooden table in front of him as he looked away from you, pressing his lips into a firm line. As upset as he was with you, assuming you would be so cruel to someone you both clearly cared about was… a little too far, wasn’t it? He took a deep breath as he calmed himself down, meeting your eyes after a moment. “I think you need to figure out your feelings. I’m tired of watching my friends hurt.” 

“I know.” Your lip trembled a little, and you fought back the urge to cry. “I can’t help how I feel about Felix, though. I know I should have told him sooner, but… I really, really didn’t know until we kissed. I promise.” 

Hyunjin said nothing at first, just watching you. He licked his lips a moment later, swallowing hard. “You really don’t understand, do you?”

All you could do was stare. Maybe he would give something away. “What?”

Seungmin spoke up after a moment, “Don’t you have that meeting? For your project?” He looked between the two of you. He looked at Hyunjin more pointedly after a moment, clearly annoyed at the confused look on his face. “Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin caught on for once, although you could tell that this was some sort of lie. “Right,” he said, reaching for his sketchbook. “I should go.”

There was no point in calling either of them out. They weren’t going to tell you anything now, and you needed to reflect on what had happened so far. You apologized for intruding and for coming in so hot, turning to make your way out of the apartment. While you still weren’t sure why, exactly, Jisung was upset to the point of not speaking to you… You understood at least a little more. It felt like everyone knew something that you didn’t, although the answer felt just outside of your reach. How much of it was you not knowing, though, and how much of it was you not letting yourself know? You weren’t sure. 

Hyunjin called your name before you left, hesitating before he met your gaze. “I think… I think you should talk to Jisung.” He frowned. “I’m still upset with you because of Felix, but… It’s weird that you two aren’t talking at all. So…” He made his way over, opening the door to leave with you. “Talk to Jisung soon.”

You would. Regardless of how you came out on the other end, you would talk to him no matter what it took.

Jisung had his favorite studio on the music floor of the arts building. He’d penciled in his time slot at the beginning of the week, and let himself in with the code. This room was the furthest from the entrance, and it had the most comfortable chair to settle in and work in. It was always a fight to get this room, and Jisung was good at quietly stealing a few time slots for himself. He shoved his bag underneath the table, and he put himself to work. He’d need to re-record the piano track for one piece, record the guitar accompaniment for another piece he’d been working on… And plenty more that was always best suited for working here rather than home. Using digital instruments only took him so far—there was something calming about sitting down and playing a piece himself. 

It wasn’t until he was playing a piece back that he heard the door click unlocked behind him. When he looked up, there you were. You looked tired. Far more tired than he did most days. What had happened to you? 

“Hey.” You stood in the open doorway. Non-music students weren’t allowed in here, but that had never stopped you. Someone had to drag him back home when it was getting too late, after all.

He ran a hand through his hair, hoping that he looked casual enough. “Hey.”

“Everything okay?” The door slowly fell shut behind you, and you stepped a little closer to him. “It’s been a while.” 

Three weeks, but who’s counting? Jisung was. He kept counting day by day, hour by hour, trying to whittle down the time further and further until he was strong enough to face you again. “I’ve been busy,” he half-lied. “That’s all.”

“Is it?” You frowned, making your way over to the nearby chair. “If you want me to leave, you can tell me, okay? I’m worried about you.” 

Jisung let out a sigh, nodding. “I’m okay. Just…” He looked at the piece he’d been working on, and thought back to the song he’d been writing for you. “I’ve been working on a song sometimes. But…” He looked at you. Maybe you’d have the answer he was still searching for. “What would you do if you loved someone you shouldn’t?”

“Like… forbidden love?” You tilted your head curiously, frowning. “Or…?”

He chuckled, actually smiling again for the first time in a while. Oh, how he was still so endeared to you. No wonder you were still in your literature program with cute thoughts like those. “Just someone you can’t be with. Like…” He hummed to himself. It would be another lie, but it’d throw you off his trail if you were starting to figure him out. “A friend’s partner.” 

He could see the way you started to think on that, no doubt making a list of all the friends the two of you had that were dating. It’d vex your brain for a bit, sure, but Jisung didn’t mind. He liked the cute way your brows drew together when you were thinking hard, lips always pressing into this pout. 

“That’s what my song is about is all,” he said. “I haven’t experienced it myself,” he lied again, “but I was thinking about it and I wondered what kind of song that would turn into. It’s about someone who’s in love with their friend’s partner, and struggling with those feelings. Like… They wouldn’t do anything to hurt their friend, but they still can’t  help their feelings.”

You said nothing to him. Had he said too much? You were figuring him out, weren’t you…?

“I just think it’s hard to live that life,” he said. Every time he even thought about you, there was an ache in his chest. Felix liked you, too. “I mean… Imagine loving someone so much that it hurts.” 

“I can, yeah.” Your voice had gone a little quieter than usual. Right. Had you felt that way about Felix…? Or were you talking about him now? Jisung struggled more with that one, even though Hyunjin was so confident that Jisung’s feelings had never been one-sided. 

He met your gaze a minute later, shy to look into your eyes again. He’d always loved the color of your eyes. If he could write songs about how he wanted to drown in their warm, loving gaze, he would. But that was straying a little too far into territory he’d sworn away from. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I wanted time to figure things out, but… I think Minho would tell you I haven’t talked to most people lately.”

You nodded. “Chris said the three of you went out to a noraebang.” Your toes tapped against the floor in that nervous way, as though this was a topic you shouldn’t even come close to. “Did that help?”

Wait… You weren’t mad at him for that. “It doesn’t bother you?”

“No?” You toyed with your sleeve, not quite meeting his gaze this time. “I mean… It did sting a little bit, but if you needed Chris and Minho, then I can’t change that. All I can do is just kinda hope that they helped you.”

He didn’t deserve you. Fuck the music for now, he’d finished what he really needed to do. He began to shut down the equipment, gathering his things as he stood up, facing you. “I’ll buy dessert,” he said. “Is that okay?”

it was your turn to smile at him, lighting up his world all too easily. You followed him out of the studio, and he secured the door shut to make sure it was locked. For a moment, his hand brushed against your own, and he yearned to hold it. Another feeling he would have to get used to, he was sure. But all he could do was smile at you, thankful that you were right there by his side for the first time in weeks. 

This would be hard, but he could do it. He wasn’t going to lose you again. Not if he had anything to do with it.

Hyunjin had shown up to his apartment for once, and he stood in the doorway to his bedroom. “Jisung. Tell them.” His hand curled around the strap of his bag, clutching it tight. “Soon.” 

Minho had told him the same thing ever since the two of you started talking again. If Jisung didn’t want to pursue you, then it was time he learned to let you go. And if he did want to become something with you, then he needed to talk to you. It wasn’t fair to either of you if he held onto this dream of loving you without ever trying. If Jisung couldn’t let himself do it, then why keep hurting himself by holding onto it so tightly? Why not find a new dream to pursue, a new person to love wholeheartedly? Yet Jisung couldn’t imagine a world where he wasn’t loving you in some way. Part of his heart would live and die with you one day, no matter how far away he went. This was his fate now.

“I just got our friendship back,” he said without looking up again. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Jisung, they like you.” Hyunjin said it outright. “So you need to tell them.”

Jisung looked up. He knew you liked him. But would he ever let himself fully believe it? It felt… harder to grasp that reality. He’d spent so long telling himself that it was all in his head, that the tender look in your eyes was just you caring for him as a best friend. But Hyunjin was right. Minho had been right. Everyone who had ever told him to just go for it was right. “Hyunjin, I don’t know if I can—”

“I’m tired of watching my friends hurt,” he said. “All of us see it. Why can’t you?”

Jisung swallowed hard. “What about Felix?”

Hyunjin averted his gaze, frowning. “Felix…” He took a deep breath. “Felix would want you to be happy, Jisung. He knows, too, you know.” He took a step back. “I’m not going to push you. But you should tell them.”

He said nothing else, and soon Hyunjin left him there. Jisung shut the world out again, listening to his song as it played back to him again. One step closer. Once he finished this song, everything would be okay.

Chris Bang had always been your best friend growing up before Jisung took that title away from him. He was an older brother to you in every way except blood, and that meant he was the one who would have the hard talks with you. He’d come home with your favorite takeout in hand, setting it on the dinner table before saying he’d change out of his work clothes quickly. But you knew what was coming. There were only two reasons that Chris would buy your favorite takeout on his way home from work. You weren’t upset, which meant it was time for an adult conversation. One that you wouldn’t want to have, but needed to. Soon enough, Chris had sat across from you, having poured your drink first. 

“So I think we should talk about how you’re in love with Jisung,” Chris said as he set down the bottle. “Okay?”

You stared at him, already feeling tears well up. Everyone knew, then. If Chris knew, then there was no way the others hadn’t figured it out. “Chris…”

“It’s okay.” He took your hand in his own. It was time for the two of you to dump your feelings onto the table and sort them out right then and there together. “Let’s talk about this, okay? No more running away.”

No more running away. You breathed in deep, and slowly exhaled. Where to begin…? You weren’t sure. So much of your life had become this huge mess over the past few months, and now all those strings were tangled so tightly together that you weren’t sure you could undo the knot.

So Chris squeezed your hand before letting go, turning his attention to the bag of takeout in front of you. “I know you,” he said. “So I know you didn’t want to hurt Felix, and I know that you still don’t. But… I think it’s time you put your feelings first for once.”

“Chris…” You frowned. “It feels too soon.”

“I kinda hate saying it, but we all know now. Felix included.” He set your plate in front of you, and didn’t touch his own. All he did was watch you, waiting for you to say or do anything further. When you didn’t, he decided to continue on, “You can’t tell me that you don’t want to act now because of Felix. I asked everyone and they all said the same thing: they thought you’d liked Jisung for a while before you and Felix dated. After that, they all thought that you two were just that close.”

“We are.” 

Chris shook his head, saying your name gently this time. “You know Jisung loves you, right?”

There was a spike of pain in your chest. Not because you didn’t, but because you did. Hyunjin had all but spelled it out for you before, but seeing Jisung again that day proved it. You’d always thought you were just believing in something that wasn’t there, too afraid to toe the line between friend and more. Tears lined your eyes now, and finally ran down your cheeks as you blinked. All you could do was nod now. 

Chris already reached up to wipe away your tears. “It’s okay!” He chuckled. “You’ve gotten so soft,” he teased. “But… Why did you never tell him?”

“I was scared.” You still were, to be fair. “I didn’t know for sure before, and… Now I just don’t want to hurt Felix. I don’t think Jisung does, either.”

His gaze softened so much. Of course the two of you were still thinking of Felix. Minho had said the same thing to Chris, actually. “Felix wants you to be happy,” he said. “All of us do. If that means being with Jisung, then that’s what you should do. Felix is an adult, you know. He might be more sensitive sometimes, but he’d never hold any of this against you.” He cupped your cheek gently. “And I really, really don’t think he’d want to be the reason you two never tried.”

You could believe that easily. If Felix knew, he’d feel guilty. That you knew as fact.

“And if I’m being honest… I don’t think he’s the only reason you haven’t tried.” He pulled his hand away from your face. “So… Talk to me. What’s really stopping you?”

No running away. “What if this doesn't work out and I lose Jisung for good?”

“There’s no guarantee that will happen,” Chris said. 

“There’s no guarantee we’ll work out, either.” You frowned. “I’ve heard horror stories of friends who tried to date and it ruined everything.”

“And there’s friends who managed to go back to being friends,” Chris said. “I really think that you two wouldn’t let it tear you apart. You’ve already been through so much, you know?” 

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. The last thing you ever wanted was to lose Jisung again. If the two of you didn’t work out, how hard would you fight for him? Would he fight for you, too…?

“The most you’ll ever have to do is get space from each other,” Chris said. “But I think you’d come back to each other.”

“I think he’s my soulmate.” You hadn’t thought before you said it, the words bursting out of you all too easily. Regardless of whether that was platonically or romantically, Jisung was someone you wanted to keep in your life forever. “But…”

“But?”

“Isn’t it too soon?” You frowned at Chris. “I mean… Felix and I—”

“If you don’t go for it now, when will you?” Chris held your hand again. “If you aren’t ready to tell him, I won’t push you to do it. Just because you confess doesn’t mean you have to rush into a relationship—it just means you’re finally being honest with each other. Go at your own pace… But don’t hold back because of everyone else, okay?” He squeezed your hand reassuringly. “The only people in this relationship would be you and Jisung. So don’t include anyone else in this decision, okay?”

With a nod, you decided to commit to giving yourself three days. One day to make up your mind for sure on whether this was the right move to make. If you were going to confess to Jisung, then you wanted to do it sooner rather than later. The second day was to figure out how you were going to tell him. Over cheesecake, or in through a song, or in the park… You still had to figure that part out, and you would. It needed to be special. 

And the third day was going to be the day you told him.

On the rooftop of Jisung’s apartment was a community garden. It brought a little greenery into the city, and it was nice to see the plants that several people often tended to— fresh herbs that Minho would sometimes pick with permission to use when he cooked, a few tomato plants that he often saw people tending to, Things that he didn’t fully understand the care of himself, but he still appreciated the efforts put into it. It was a nice space to sit and think alone sometimes, most of his friends unaware of just how often he’d come up here. He could see so much of the city here, too. He was just one person in this great big city—in the world, even, if he let his mind wander that far. And yet he’d found significance through the people he loved, in the passions he pursued. 

He’d finished his song for you late last night, and now he was left with this hollow feeling. He’d told himself over and over that this song would be it: one last thing he’d dedicate to you, and then he’d move on. But… That wasn’t how it was going to work at all. Han Jisung knew a few things now. He loved you. You loved him. The only question he had left was how to tell you.

Maybe he should have written you a love song instead. Then he’d have something, at least.

He’d brought a drink out here with him, settling at the picnic table. He used to bring you up here sometimes, stealing away from the world for a while to just exist with you. You’d share drinks together, and a few times you’d ended up rained on. Now, he just lost himself to the playlist he’d been listening to, head bobbing along to the music. He could bring you here and confess to you at sunset. Would that be romantic? He didn’t care for it being a grand gesture, as long as it was something memorable. All he wanted was a gesture that told you that he was sorry but ready to face tomorrow at your side, if you would let him be there. 

The door to the rooftop had this awful screech that he could hear through his headphones. He opened his eyes, reaching to pull them around his neck and politely greet whoever had come up here. And it was as if you’d heard his thoughts, because there you stood in the golden rays of the day. 

“Hey.” The door had slowly swung shut behind you as you made your way over to him.

He shyly smiled at you. “Hi.” Now it was his turn to ask: “Is everything okay?”

You nodded, coming to the edge of the table. “I think we should talk about us.”

“Us?” His heart almost skipped a beat at that. Did you…? 

Oh. You knew. 

“It’s nothing bad,” you had said to him, as if it could put him at ease now. “But…” You rounded the table, throwing one leg over the bench he’d been sitting on. Instead of sitting normally, you chose to straddle it, just so you could fully face him.

So he matched you, throwing one leg out and turning to fully face you. “But?”

“I’m in love with you,” you said, voice wavering ever so slightly now. “And… And you’re in love with me.” You’d begun to drum your knuckles against the wooden bench. “And… And I don’t know why neither of us said anything sooner.”

Jisung stared at you, face growing warmer. His gut instinct was to deny it, to push his feelings away. But Hyunjin’s words rang out in his head: he was tired of seeing his friends hurt. Everyone was now.

“I really wanna be honest with you, so…” You took a deep breath, shutting your eyes for just a moment to center yourself. “Hyunjin thought I was using Felix to get over you, and… I just wanted to say that I promise I wasn’t. I really did like Felix, but…”

“I didn’t think you were,” Jisung’s voice was soft, and he reached for your hands. His fingertips grazed your knuckles before he pulled his hands away. Was touching you, even in such a tiny way, too much? “I knew you liked him.”

You nodded slowly. “Good. Because…” You’d grown flustered, averting your gaze. “I.. didn’t know that it’d always be you until I kissed him.”

That time, the world seemed to stop around him. It’d… always be him? “What?” His fingers curled around the edge of the bench. “I don’t understand. What do you—” 

A moment later, your eyes met his own. “I think I’ve been looking for you in every person I’ve tried dating, and that’s why it’s never worked out.” He’d already begun to melt, but you continued on, “If you didn’t love me back, then I think maybe one day I would have moved on. But… If you don’t, then tell me, and we can pretend this conversation never happened.”

He shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to pretend he didn’t love you. Yet something ached in his chest. Felix. Even now, all he could think about was how Felix would hurt once he knew the two of you were something. “I… I want to,” he said, voice softer now. “But what about Felix?”

“Would you hesitate if Felix didn’t like me?”

He shook his head. Never. He swallowed hard, his emotions building in his chest. He’d dreamed of a day like this for so long, always pining over you night after night. He dreamed of kissing you, warm and tender, and saying all the pretty things that came to mind. And now that you were in front of him, he couldn’t help but glance at your lips again. Not yet. “I…” He paused, just to gather himself together. “I didn’t think you’d love me, you know.”

You frowned at him. “Why not?”

“You’re you,” he said. “And… And I wasn’t sure if you’d ever like me like that. I’ve always known you liked me, but love is… different.” The paint chips from the bench were flaking onto his fingers now, the same shade of red as your sweater. As his, too. “I know Felix is hurting now, but it doesn’t change how I feel about you. I thought it would, but…”

“I get it.” You nodded slowly. “I… I also kinda thought things would change. But if everyone wants us to be happy, then I think we’re the only people standing in our way.” 

He didn’t want to. Not anymore. Jisung reached forward, this time keeping his hands over your own. “I think we should stop that,” he said, voice growing quieter. His eyes had grown wetter, tears brimming the edges, and reached up to wipe them away. “Sorry—I’m getting emotional.”

“It’s okay.” You scooted forward a little, and Jisung felt his heart begin to race. You were so close he could kiss you. He wanted to kiss you. You reached up, caressing Jisung’s face. He already leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he savored the feeling. Your hands were so warm, even now. “I think I’ll always love Felix the way I love the rest of our friends. But… I love you more, Jisung. I know it’s early to say it, but… I really think it’s you.”

He opened his eyes, taking in the way the golden rays of the sun were kissing your face. Was it wrong to be a little jealous? Again, his eyes flickered down to your lips for just a second. “Can I kiss you?”

You said the only word he needed, and he leaned in to close the space between the two of you. His nose had brushed against yours for a moment, already smiling before his lips met your own. Your lips were so soft, and his hands found a home at your waist after a moment. He’d always wondered what kissing you would be like, and now it felt as though he’d finally woken up from the longest dream in his life. His eyes fluttered shut as he lost himself in this moment with you.

He’d heard stories before of what it was like to kiss someone after so much pining, after so many trials in the way. People talked of having their breath stolen from them, or being unable to breathe from how surreal it all seemed to be. Yet when he kissed you, it was as though he could finally breathe again. He had resurfaced after drowning in so much self doubt and fear for far too long, and kissing you was living. Yet he knew that if he was given the choice to drown in you, he would have done it without a second thought. As much as you’d given him life with only a kiss, filling his lungs with air, he’d follow your siren song to the depths of the ocean all too eagerly if it meant he could taste this feeling once more. You ran a hand through his hair, and he was already intoxicated by you, his body yearning for your touch more than ever before. Yet when he pulled away, something had plucked his heartstrings one by one. He let out that broken, stuttered breath that always served as a precursor for him crying. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he gazed at you, trying to commit every part of this moment to memory. 

“Jisung?” You were concerned for him even after kissing him, and he wanted to laugh. To cry. To kiss you again. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, his hands finding your own all too easily. “I love you, too.” He’d always love you. Whatever part of his heart you had, it was yours to keep regardless of where this went. “I think it’s you for me, too.” 

By the time the two of you had made it back inside, the sun had set, and Jisung had held onto your hand tightly the entire way to his apartment. He’d given up his bed for you in the past already, he’d happily do it again to make sure you had a proper night of sleep. Maybe one day he would fall asleep next to you and memorize every line and blemish on your face, but not tonight. Kissing you and saying those three little words he’d always wanted to hear you say was plenty for one day. Yet he’d kissed you one last time as he left you at his bedroom door, just to kiss you goodnight.

“Jisung?” You’d called to him as he made his way to the couch, and he’d turned to face you one more time. “Dream of me.”

Oh. Oh. His heart had skipped a beat yet again at you. This was his new reality, wasn’t it? He found himself smiling at you, that same shy, pretty smile you’d later tell him you always wanted to kiss. He’d dream of you every night if it meant he could wake up to you, too. Tonight would be the end of strife and stress and strain from not telling you how he felt. Now he had to make up for so much lost time.

And if that meant that, starting tomorrow, he would tell you exactly what you meant to him, then he’d do it. That was what you deserved, after all, and what he did, too.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @jinnie-ret @cheesemonky

[digitaldiarystuff]

Worst Mistake

omg hi! thank you so much for all the votes on the poll it helps me and also, i think this’ll be a long story so i want to divide it to parts if you guys enjoy it i’ll continue so please leave likes and comments as much as you can🥹💕

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pairing: Jude Bellingham x Y/N

summary: Jude was a close friend of your boyfriend, so you meet him. What’s the worst thing that could happen right?

genre: i think a bit of everything

————

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Everything in your life was in place, you were in a happy and calm state, your job and your relationship were going well until he came along: Jude Bellingham. Jude was a close friend of your boyfriend Zack and the two occasionally facetimed or called which you knew about but you’ve never met because you were in Madrid whilst he played for Dortmund. Last summer you were supposed to go on a vacation with their friends but you had a family emergency that you had to attend and you didn’t mind at all. You were happy that Zack could get some time off with his mates and you didn’t think much about missing your chance to meet his friends but as soon as september rolled around, Zack came to you with good news.

“Jude’s signing for Real Madrid!” he happily exclaimed one day and you just shrugged, you didn’t care much about football even though you watched games with your boyfriend and family often.

And just like that, Jude came into your life. When you first laid eyes on him, you quickly realized photos weren’t doing him any favors. He was much more handsome in person but you tried shrugging the tingly feeling when you made eye contact because it was beyond inappropriate.

He first came to your shared house like the second day he landed in Madrid to spend some time with Zack before trainings start. He politely smiled and shook your hand as Zack introduced you to each other.

“Y/N, this is Jude. My best friend from childhood and this is Y/N, my lovely girlfriend.”

You smiled in return shaking his hand but you couldn’t understand why you suddenly started sweating. Your hands felt clammy and you found yourself hoping he didn’t notice but why was this important? You were just the girlfriend of his friend anyway. You three then sat down to have lunch, Zack told you all he knew about Jude’s diet and you tried to make something in regard to it.

“Everything looks amazing.” Jude said when you and Zack were trying to carry plates in.

“Y/N did everything, she also tried to make them as healthy as possible for you.”

The way Zack was talking about you made you feel even worse if that’s possible but Jude’s eyes on you made you feel zoned out.

“I can’t believe you put this much effort thank you so much Y/N” he said with a genuine smile and you felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest with his mention of your name.

You were never like this, you never once thought about being unfaithful because Zack was everything you were looking for. He was the perfect gentleman and you couldn’t ask for more. You loved him with all your heart so why was this man saying just your name had this effect on you?

“It was nothing, really.” you tried to cut short hoping they would dive into a conversation you didn’t have to take part in but every time Zack was talking about something you weren’t into, Jude brought the subject to you asking you your opinion. Any other day, you’d feel welcome and happy about your boyfriend’s friend’s behavior but not today.

Throughout the meal, your mind did things you couldn’t even register. You found yourself staring at Jude more than once, you even focused on his biceps flexing as he held the fork to put it into his mouth but everything you did made you feel ashamed of yourself so you quickly ate and excused yourself to wash some dishes in the kitchen even though you had a perfectly functioning dishwasher.

“Where can I put these?” Jude asked from behind you and you almost dropped the plate from your hands.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” he said while you tried to catch your breath.

“It’s okay.” you smiled without looking at him. “You can put them over there, I’ll clean em.”

You turned around trying to continue but his presence didn’t leave the room.

“I can help.” he said while walking over and started rinsing the dishes you put in the sink and you smelled his scent which was so sharp but manly. That scent was intoxicating for sure, there had to be a chemical in there that made you high.

“Jude you really don’t have to.” stand here with me with nearly no space between us, you wanted to say but held your tongue.

“You cooked an amazing lunch for me, I can help with the dishes with no problem.” he turned to you smiling but you couldn’t face him, there was less then 50 centimeters between you guys and this was wrong but then something much worse happened. He slowly reached over and took a strand of your hair out of your cheek and his touch on your face and neck felt like being electrocuted. You instantly looked up at him and he was already staring into your eyes. You knew you should’ve looked away, this eye contact was going on for so long but you felt like time had stopped at that moment. His hand still touching on your neck holding the small strand of hair and his dark eyes staring into your soul, you just couldn’t and so couldn’t he. He was looking at you like he was trying to memorize your face with so much intensity but the moment came to a halt when you heard footsteps outside of the kitchen. He quickly left your hair and you turned back to your dishes as Zack walked in.

“You really shouldn’t, you’re the guest man. Just go sit in the living room and I’ll help Y/N clean up.” he said to Jude and Jude obeyed without any words. He left you in the room with Zack and your conscience.

After the cleanup was done, you told Zack he should spend time with Jude and you’d leave them to it and just be in your room but all you wanted to do was cry your eyes out. This infatuation was wrong.

You were slowly becoming sleepy when the door opened and unfortunately, it wasn’t Zack.

“Oh I’m sorry, I thought this was the guest room. Zack said I could use its bathroom.” he quickly explained.

“No worries, let me walk you to it.” you got up and Jude started following you like a lost puppy.

“Where’s Zack anyway?” you asked.

“He had to go to the office for some last minute work stuff.”

Oh shit, you thought.

“And I’ll be on my way to the hotel in a minute don’t worry.”

“Hotel?” you asked.

“Yeah, I didn’t have time to find a place yet so I’ll be staying at a hotel for a while.”

You were going to strongly hate your next move in the future.

“I actually work at a real estate company who deals with A list celebrities and business people, we make 3D designs of every estate we currently have. If you’d like I can show you a couple of houses.” you offered, you knew you should’ve kept your mouth shut but this was helping a friend out and nothing more.

Jude’s face lit up immediately.

“I mean, if it’s okay with you…” he trailed off

“Of course.” you smiled and showed him the bathroom then you went into your office to pull up the drawings you had for houses that’d be a fit for Jude.

He came rather quickly and was standing up right behind you.

“Oh, let me get a chair for you.” you said standing up but he put his hands on your shoulders.

“Let me get it, it’s the least I can do.” he smiled and pulled the extra chair over to your desk. You didn’t realize but you were once again lost in him, examining his every move until he sat down.

You spent the next 20 minutes going through possible options, he really valued your opinion and told you time and time again he trusted your guidance but being this close proximity with him has made you go a little dumb.

“And we have this one. I think this is a good option, it has 4 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms. I mean I love this one because it feels homey if you know what I mean, I think this is one of the best in Madrid. I personally would go for this.” you explained focusing on the screen telling him about your favorite house listing but Jude’s eyes were focused on you. He was very intrigued by the manner you talked about something you love. You could feel his burning gaze and tried your hardest not to look back. He leaned in close and turned his head to the home you were showing. He held his hand up to the screen and asked about something but his arm was in front of you so you lost all focus.

“Huh?” you suddenly came back to your senses and turned to him as he also turned to look at you. It was happening again, he was all you could see and he evaded your mind like nothing ever had. You didn’t realize how close you were sitting but there was around 10 centimeters between you. He was looking to your eyes until his eyes shifted to your lips and you instinctively licked them as you were suddenly feeling dehydrated. He loudly gulped and it was your turn to look at his adam’s apple. The tension between you was undeniable and you could both feel it in your core.

You didn’t even know it but he was slowly moving forward, he didn’t mean to it just happened.

“Y/N” he said just above a whisper. You couldn’t say anything back just waited there but as your noses touched, you got out of your trance and pulled back abruptly.

He also pulled himself together and you both strictly looked forward not daring looking at each other’s eyes.

He then got up from his chair.

“Um, thank you for everything. I think I should go now, I have somewhere to be but I’ll keep the houses in mind. Thank you.”

You couldn’t even reply back and just watched him escape the room and soon, you heard the front door slam.

Could you just avoided the worst mistake ever?

————

omg i got so carried away i can’t believe!! i thought this was going to be hard but i don’t think so anymore hope you enjoy please leave any comment that helps me a lot💕

[f1bordeaux]

If You Cared (Part 3) | mv1

It's been years since you've indulged in a vacation. What better time is there than summer? Your family, the beach house in Italy-it seems perfect. But, for things to be just like good old times, your family needs to invite his. So of course you are having mixed feelings as the boy who broke your heart re-enters your life like nothing happened. Warnings: None Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader Word count: 2.5k Poetry style | Story style A/n: Part 3 has arrived! I rewrote this about a million times so I kinda just gave up lololololol It isn't proofread sry next chapter will prob have smut in continuation to the end of this chapter? I haven't decided yet. I'm hoping to finish this series by Saturday because then I go on hiatus for 3 months so look out! As always, let me know if you wanna be in a continuation tag! Part One|Part Two|Part Three|Part Four|Part Five

When Max woke up the room was dark-pitch black almost.

All he could see was the turquoise glow from the pool outside, thanks to the glass patio door. He studied it for a while, watching the water idly float around, watching trees sway in a soft wind. It looked tranquil. It looked calm. For a moment, he almost fell back asleep, tucked in the corner of the couch underneath two or so blankets. Then you moved.

He almost jumped, completely forgetting that you had been sitting on the couch, too. As fate would have it, you had also fallen asleep, curled into his side with your arms around his waist. One of his hands rested on your back, another one on the top of the couch. He hadn’t even realized. Now that he did, however, he felt a little warmer, his heart felt a little fuller, his smile grew a little wider.

Max reached for his phone on a couch cushion nearby. The time was two-almost three-in the morning. He could only assume that the two of you fell asleep during family movie night and nobody had bothered to wake either of you. He was grateful for that.

Over the past four days, the two of you had grown incredibly close-inseparable even. After his apology, the days were spent falling back into the familiar rhythm you’d built as children. Everything you did, you did together. Chores? Apparently dishes were a two-person job! Mopping the floor? Two is better than one! Grocery shopping? It can be done twice as fast with two people! Even when it came to seating arrangements you and Max were together. In the car, at a meal, at a game around the table, on the couch for movies. If Max was there, you were there. If you were there, Max was there.

You rustled a little, aiming to get more comfortable in your sleep. Max waited until you stilled before slowly picking you up and laying you back down. He placed a butterfly kiss on your forehead. If you had been awake, a blush would be painting your cheeks red in seconds. Instead, you just nestled deeper into the blankets. Max smiled, turning on his heel and carefully sliding the back door open.

The cold air was refreshing, it was like a jumpstart for his lungs. He inhaled sharply, sitting down on a patio chair. His mind became occupied with plenty of questions, with plenty of memories, with plenty of possible outcomes for this summer. What would become of you two once you parted ways? Do you remember that time the two of you built a fort in the living room, and your parents let it stay up until the following summer, and when you came back it was still up? You two would be ok in the end, right?

“You should tell her, Max.”

He spun around, surprised at the sudden voice. Mia approached him, taking a spot on a lounge chair next to his. “What?” He spoke, voice raspy.

“Luca told me.”

“Luca, right.”

Mia nodded, bringing her sleeves up to her eyes. She sipped on a glass of water. “Do you love y/n? Or is this a joke to you? I mean it obviously started that way-”

“It’s not a joke.” He sighed. “I do love y/n. I swear I do.”

“What’s to come after this then, hmm? When you go back to Monaco and she goes to New York, what happens then?” Mia’s voice grew increasingly loud. Max’s eyes shifted from her face to the back door. Your figure was still curled up on the couch, but there was no way to know if you were awake or not.

“I don’t know, Mia.” He stood up, turning to go inside. “All I know is that I love her.”

“You loved her as a kid and you still left her.”

“Mia that won't-”

“Did you really change or is this just you trying to fabricate a lie once again?”

He tried to speak, to voice his opinion without waking you. “Will you let me-”

“You should stop getting so close with her. I can almost smell your bad intentions-”

“Mia!” He yelled, voice bouncing off the walls and echoing through the yard. She looked at him with wide eyes. “I’ll figure it out.”

With that he walked inside, noticing your movement on the couch. You sat up, rubbing your eyes similarly to how Mia just had. “Max?”

“Hello, beautiful. Let’s go to bed, ok?” He reached out a hand, one that you hesitated to take.

“Why were Mia and you outside? Why did you shout her name?”

Max just shook his head, opting to pick you up bridal style. You smiled, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. Sleep toyed with your body, pulling at your eyelids and weighing your limbs down. Your sister walked inside as Max began to walk up the steps. You didn’t see it, but he gave her an apologetic look. She returned one of anger, one of dread. Dont fuck this up or it’s over for good, she was telling him. I know, he wanted to say. Trust me, I know.

Max walked you up the stairs, his body heat providing a comfort no blanket ever could. He pushed your door open and laid you down before pulling your sheets over you. His hand came to your hair, brushing a few strands away from your face. You looked so delicate laying there. He could break you in seconds. He hated knowing that he had that power over you.

With a small kiss goodbye to the cheek, he was standing, ready to go into his room and try to fall asleep on his own cold, lonely bed. You hand caught his wrist, though, stopping him in his tracks. “Stay.” Your words were so quiet that he almost didn’t hear you. “Stay, Max.”

He swallowed thickly. Through your closed door, he could hear Mia’s footsteps as she wandered down the hall and back to her bedroom. Was she right? Was this wrong? Would this just lead into another heartbreak at the end of the summer? Would you always hate Max unless you were dating him?

“Y/n I-”

“Please?”

He crawled over you, his chest pressing into your back. The two of you didn’t last long like that, however. You rolled over, curling into his body. His arms wrapped around you, his hands meeting at the small of your back. “Thank you,” You whispered.

And you swear he said, “You’re welcome, my love.” As you fell asleep.

-

You woke up alone, an indentation in the spot beside you as the only evidence that Max had once been there.

You begin to wonder how long ago he left your side. Did he leave as soon as you fell asleep? Did he leave a little while ago? Did he leave somewhere in between? You smiled as your hand touched the spot on your duvet where he was. It was still warm.

“Good morning!” Your mother beamed as you walked down the stairs. Max and Luca sat at the kitchen bar, your mother and Max’s stood behind it, cooking up some sort of food. “Sleep well after your slumber on the couch?”

“God, you should have seen how you and him were cuddled up.” Luca gagged. “Disgusting.”

You smacked the back of his head as you passed him to sit next to Max. “You’re seventeen, not twelve, Luca.” Max smiled at you as you took your seat. He ran a hand across your thigh before pulling it back. Your skin missed his touch almost immediately.

“Yacht today-sound good with you three?” Sophie asked.

“Always.” Max added, raising his glass in the air. “We haven’t been on it yet this year.”

Luca sighed. “My dad and I have been working on it. A few tweaks here and there. We’re confident now that we can take it out and not get stranded.”

“Awesome.” He responded.

“Better grab a few emergency flares just in case.” You said, your mother sliding you a glass of coffee and a carton of creamer across the bar. “We all know Luca isn’t the smartest of kids.”

He stuck a middle finger up at you, to which you returned.

Going on the yacht meant there was only one possible destination. There was an island off the southwest coast of Elba called Pianosa. A small, secluded, rocky beach named Belvedere beach called Pianosa home, and it was also where your family would spend their day. It took about three hours to get there, and you all would normally stay until sunset, arriving home in the late hours of the night. You have plenty of fond memories surrounding the trip. When coming home, everyone would fall asleep except for you and Max who would sit by your father as he navigated his way home. Sometimes, when it got boring watching him, you two would run around and play in the hot tub. This year, you hoped, would be no different.

“So, you and Max.”

“Stop it, mom.” You sighed, walking shoulder to shoulder with her. The boat was a few feet away, and Max was already on it with your dad, Luca, and Victoria’s husband as they lifted heavy coolers and bins onto the deck.

“What? It looks like things are going well for you two.”

“They are, but I’m not getting too invested. He’s gotta’ go back to Monaco and I have to go back to New York. Those two places are very far away.” You stepped onto the dock. “Not to mention we have very different lives.”

Your mother just shrugged, placing one foot on the boat and accepting a helping hand from your father. “If it’s meant to be, it’ll find a way to be.”

He reached out a hand to you. “She’s a woman of wisdom, darling.”

You scoffed. “Apparently everyone is.”

The yacht took off quickly after you all boarded. You sat alone in the lounge on the second floor. You could feel the wind on your face as the boat sped up. It was refreshing. You’d missed the yacht. You’d missed a lot of things about Elba summers, you realized.

“There you are.” Max walked down the stairs behind you. “Why are you alone?”

“Just needed a breather.”

“Are you ok?” He sat down on the couch next to you, a worried look on his face.

“Yes.” You laughed. “I’m alright.”

The trip went smoothly. You and Max hung out in the lounge the whole time. At one point, Victoria and her husband came down with their two children. The six of you talked the whole time. Victoria spoke of motherhood and how amazing it had been. You all reminisced, too. She reminded you of birthday parties and summer outings. She reminded you of girl nights and bedroom sleepovers.

Once the boat ported, Luca was the first to jump off the side, nearly missing a rock. Of course your mother scolded him. What was a family trip without Luca getting in trouble? You and Mia tanned on the front of the boat until lunch on the first deck. You slid into the booth followed by a dripping wet Max. His hand was cold as it touched your thigh before pulling away-the same as he did in the morning.

“Stop, you’re cold.” You swatted at him as he scooted closer to you. “Max! Stop!”

He laughed before grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his shoulders. “So whiney.”

After eating, everyone took a quick breather before jumping back into the water. Mia went to continue tanning, you stayed seated on the first deck. Max stayed with you, too. And you were sure that a good conversation could happen but of course, Luca was there so all that was said was nonsense. At one point, Max and your little brother got in an argument on whether or not white was a color or shade. How intelligent.

“Jump in with me.” Max begged.

“Let me get in through the ladder first then I’ll jump in.”

He shook his head. “That’s wimpy. Jump.”

“Max-”

“Jump.”

You would never win this argument. So, hand in hand with him, you and Max jumped off the edge of the boat. The water was freezing. You began to worry about having a heart attack. It was a serious worry, ok? You spent the rest of the afternoon floating in the ocean, sometimes with a raft and sometimes on Max’s back. You played stupid games with Mia and Luca, you showed Victoria’s kids how to build a ‘good’ sand castle, you pushed your father off the boat-life was good.

When everyone was asleep on couches and chairs, your father pulled the boat away from the island and began the return to Elba. Max and you were together-of course-in the hot tub. You were exhausted, the sun had done a number on your body. The bubbling water and warm temperatures in the hot tub made it hard to keep your eyes open. Plus, the sun was down now, so it was relatively dark.

“I had a lot of fun today.” Max said.

You hummed, eyes closed as you leaned your head back. “Me too.”

“I always have fun around you and your family, so thank you.”

You opened your eyes, lowering your head to look at him. His hair was messy, his face was red. He looked tired but he still somehow looked so good. He only thought the same things about you. “You’re welcome around us anytime.”

He began to move closer to you, body cutting through the water. You watched him intensely as he came to your side. His eyes flicked between your lips and your eyes. You could feel his breath on your cheek. What was this? What was he doing? Why were you allowing it to happen?

His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. “You’re so pretty.” He whispered.

“No,” You shook your head. Hopefully your sunburn was masking the blush that was darkening your cheeks. “I look disheveled.”

“You always look good, y/n.”

It was your turn to avert your gaze from his eyes to his lips. They looked so plush, so full, so warm. You wondered if they felt the same as they did all those years ago. Max’s hand came to your neck. His index finger skimmed your jaw. His eyelashes fluttered shut. You found yourself mindlessly following suit. Before you knew it, those warm lips you were wondering about were on yours. He was soft, careful with the way he handled your skin. His other hand came to hold the opposite side of your face.

He pulled away after only a few moments. “Y/n I-”

“Max-”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask or anything I don’t know why I did that-”

You lifted your thigh to slide onto his lap. His eyes were wide as you wrapped your arms around his neck, elbows resting on his shoulders. “Do it again.”

“What?” He whispered.

“Kiss me, Max.”

He swallowed hard, adjusting how he was sitting in the hot tub. “Absolutely.”

[quaddmgd]

Claudia x Aya - younger Cloud AU headcanons

So recently I wrote a post about how Aya would probably be a good mom for Cloud if she had met Claudia when he was younger and I'd like to elaborate on that with some au headcanons. All of it ties to my otp, related fics and these Claudia Strife headcanons I wrote a few days back, so you can expect me mentioning Claudia's friendship with Thea, her falling out with Brian, Cloud probably coming out as a trans woman in the future and all the fic stuff. It's a huge divergence from the canon to say the least.

Also from now on if I mention "the canon", I mean my canon universe, not the FFVII canon.

I don't really have any intention writing something serious for such an au, though. Just thinking about it and writing headcanons is fun so here we are.

---

I'd like Aya to be of the same age when she met Claudia in my canon - 25 - and it would be good for them to have a well-established relationship before Tifa's accident. If Cloud was, for example, 6 years old, Claudia would be 23, making her the younger one in the relationship this time around. Three years before the accident is more than enough time for them to become inseparable.

Also while Aya would be the older one, it'd still be Claudia that's more emotionally mature due to their difference in experiences. Aya is a really introverted person, traumatized by her family and following the path that was forcibly chosen for her. And while Claudia had her son at a really young age, with her husband and parents dying soon after, she still seems to be the more stable one. All of this would remain true for the au as well.

The reasons for them meeting (taking census, the first real date during Aya's annual leave, her extended stay during the sick leave) would stay the same.

For their second meeting, aside from buying Claudia her necklace like in the canon, she could get Cloud a cute plushie (possibly a yellow chocobo, since she herself noticed that he looks like a chocobo, even in one of my fics)

Thanks to Aya being on Shinra's payroll, Cloud would probably end up having a bit more toys in general, since whenever she would get something for Claudia, he would get something from her too.

While in the canon, they had limited time for dates in Claudia's household, due to the Nibelheim Incident, now it would be years away if possible at all. That would mean a lot more visits before Aya would decide to live with them. The young family could visit Aya in Midgar as well, where she could show them around and let them see the difference in their lives. They could even go somewhere for vacation.

Eventually, Aya would quit her job anyway, since she never actually liked working at Shinra. She would move in with her new family, already largely adjusted to their lives due to her multiple stays at their house.

While Aya didn't ever want to have kids, being with Claudia and an adorable child like Cloud would sweeten the idea. She ends up really liking him in my canon anyway.

She would be a lovely mom to Cloud, though she would obviously have a lot to learn, with her own family giving her nothing but trauma and her daily life being kinda messy in general up until this point. And while she's much more reserved than Claudia, she would do her best to let Cloud know that she has his back and that he has a friend in her.

Having a second mom around (instead of a potential dad), a person similar to him in personality at that, would make Cloud warm up to Aya rather quick and they would start getting along and hopefully sharing hobbies. Since I always imagined Cloud being a momma's boy and treating Claudia not only as a mother figure, but also his best friend, especially after the whole thing with Tifa, befriending Aya shouldn't be an issue!

While in the canon they already had few undisclosed encounters with some of the townsfolk during their walks and shopping, since Claudia would never shy away from showing her partner around, I can imagine many more interesting scenarios with them in regards to both women being queer (and Cloud having two moms etc). Some of them might end up being a bit negative though, but I imagine some of the friendlier faces being supportive of Claudia. Thea's and Tifa's reactions would be interesting too, since to me Claudia and Thea were friends since forever, while Tifa would be a lesbian in the making at this point.

Cloud would probably have it much easier after Tifa's accident, since he would have both women standing up for him and providing him with emotional support. With Aya being already very attached to her new family and having no previous ties to the village, she might be able to actually blow up in anger even better than Claudia did at Brian while defending her son. This can happen with multiple townsfolk and might either improve their situation or not help at all depending on how she does. Still, the effort would be made.

Still, it's highly possible that during the whole thing with Tifa, both women would be considering moving out of Nibelheim at some point. Cloud wouldn't probably want to leave Tifa in spite of not being allowed to see her and Aya wouldn't see herself going back to Midgar. Claudia probably prefers a simpler life as well, at least with Cloud still being little. In the end the women would decide to stay in Nibelheim and give it another chance, especially since together they should be a bit more resilient to the potential shunning.

With other women of Nibelheim fulfilling Thea's role in teaching Tifa useful household stuff, Aya might be able to convince Brian to let her teach his daughter some things herself and maybe that way reconnect her with both Claudia and Cloud.

With Aya's help and her past experience at Shinra, Claudia would end up looking at the company much less positively. In the end, the women could be able to talk Cloud out of joining SOLDIER. And if Aya's efforts to reconnect Tifa with them worked, Cloud probably wouldn't even feel the need to prove himself that hard. And while Claudia wouldn't end up alone anyway, since she would have Aya, I think we can all agree that leaving for Midgar didn't do Cloud any favors.

And since such a canon divergence might be the "time traveler moves the chair" kind of situation, that might mean that there wouldn't be any Nibelheim Incident to begin with, since any operation in Crisis Core where Cloud was originally involved, might result in a completely different outcome. That could mean them all staying at Cloud's hometown along with Tifa, but that's a bit of a reach and the possibilities would be infinite at this point.

Also they might actually move out at some point. If the Nibelheim Incident would still happen, I would just make them somehow survive, like I did the first time around (I should post the damn fic already).

Oh and maybe Cloud would be more eager to come out with two lovely gay moms around... you know... as a trans girl she is ;*

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Family Doesn't Mean Blood

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Aww if steve and vixen settle down imagine them fostering or adopting a child. In their words "adoption helps a kid"

Summary: After being married to Steve for a few years, you're starting to think about expanding your family. The problem is, you can't have kids naturally. Well, is that a problem?

Cat and Mouse Masterlist

Squares Filled: planning a vacation (2020) for @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Life has never been this good for you. What’s the fucking catch? You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop but it never comes. Why would it? You got married to the best person in the world, have an amazing job that lets you save people, have amazing friends who do what you do, and work on being healed from people who stripped you down and stole whatever was left of you.

It’s been a few years since you and Steve tied the knot, and you’ve never been happier. Marriage is and was something you never thought was in the cards for someone like you. Whatever Hydra did to you made you believe you were only good for killing someone and stealing what they couldn’t do on their own.

The celebrate your third anniversary, you and Steve are planning a vacation to a place you two have never been to before. There is a lot of ground on Earth to cover, but you want to go someplace raw and nature-filled. You can always hop on a plane and go to a touristy spot with a million other people, but you want to enjoy what nature has to offer and escape from the real world for a bit.

“How about Hawaii? I’ve never been there.”

“Too crowded. Everyone and their mother wants to go there.” Steve flips through a vacation brochure that Tony sent him in the mail. “What about Alaska? I’ve never been there. I know the cold won’t bother us.”

“How can it? You spent most of your life as a Capsicle.”

“Hey, you promised never to call me that.”

You know he’s joking based on his tone and the fat smile on his face. You walk over to him and kiss him tenderly to express your apologies.

“Alaska this time of year must be beautiful. We should go there.”

“Alaska it is, then.”

You and Steve packed for the icy vacation in Alaska, something you’re excited for. You’ve seen snow and experienced the cold winters of Siberia, but you’ve never actually enjoyed it. You want to experience being bundled up in front of the fireplace when there is snow falling outside.

The day of your flight comes sooner than you expected, so you and Steve head to the airport. A lot of people will recognize you but you’re flying first class so that might limit the amount of people you come into contact with. Tony offered his private jet but you like experiencing “normal” people things like going to the airport. It makes you feel more connected with the world if that makes sense.

You get to the airport and see a family get out of the taxi they ordered. It’s a family of four, and the two teenagers struggle to get their luggage out of the trunk. The teenage boy complains to his mom who heaves the luggage like some Super Mom. Steve sees the family but doesn’t say anything about it. You two head inside to check with security after getting your tickets at the front desk.

A young woman and her young son are at the very front of the line getting ready to go through the metal detectors. He’s a small toddler who doesn’t quite understand what is going on but he takes off his shoes per the instructions of TSA. He runs over to his mom and holds up his shoes.

“Here you go, Mommy.”

Seeing him tugs on your heartstrings. You look over at Steve who is watching the child. Something nags at you from the back of your mind from security all the way to the gate. There is some time to kill so you and Steve grab a quick bite at a cafe near the gate. A few tables down from you is a mother and father trying to feed their three very small children. They might be a bit older than newborns, and the parents scramble to get their bottles ready. Steve notices you staring at the family and nudges your side.

“Are you okay?”

“Never better.”

When you get on the plane, you notice a man who looks to be in his forties escorting his elderly father to his seat. The old man looks too old to do anything himself which is why his son is here helping him. Seeing these families makes you question your own, and you look at Steve who is reading the information booklet in the pocket on the back of the seat in front of him.

The flight to Alaska is a grueling eleven hours but you use the time to sleep and catch up on your books. Nothing can prepare someone for the harsh weather that is known in Alaska this time of year, but you once spent a winter in Siberia that was -60 degrees, so this is honestly nothing. Steve spent seventy years in the ice so this cold doesn't bother him either.

The hotel you’re staying in is more like a housing lodge with a bunch of different cabins located around a major lake in Alaska. While Steve is checking in at the front desk, you’re sitting in the lobby waiting for him to be done. A small child runs up to you holding a cookie and she raises her hand to give it to you.

“Oh, hello,” you smile.

“Hi. This is for you.”

You take the cookie, unsure where her mother is. Seconds later, you hear someone calling for her.

“Lily! There you are. You don’t go up to strangers like that.” She walks over and grabs her arm. “I’m sorry.”

“I gave her a cookie, Momma!”

“It’s okay, honestly.” Lily leaves with her mother just as Steve comes back. “She gave me a cookie.”

Steve chuckles and leads you to one of the lodges on the lake. It’s private, big, secluded, and very beautiful. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted. You arrived in Alaska late so the only thing you’re doing today is relaxing. The sun is already setting and the snow is starting to fall so the only logical thing to do is build a fire and snuggle up in front of it. Steve brought out the alcohol the lodge laid out for you (they were a tad excited two Avengers were staying with them) and sat by the fire with you. Steve looks at you and sees you staring at the fire in thought.

“What are you thinking?” Steve asks and sips his drink.

“You know, I never once had a thought where I might end up one day. All that mattered to me was the mission. Then, I met you, and that all changed. Suddenly, I found myself seeing myself buying a house with you, marrying you, and being everything I wished I could be for you. I was never allowed to think about what I wanted in life.

“Now I do.” You look at him with unshed tears in your eyes. “I thought I never wanted children. I was never given the room to even think about stuff like that. Lately, everywhere I look, are children and their parents. I know you want one. I see you looking at them, too. I see myself in a great big house with you and our little ones running around. I can see you teaching them to protect themselves, and our dogs will always be there to protect them, too. I want that now, but they sterilized me when they made me. It hurts me that I can’t give that to you.”

Steve sets his drink down and pulls you closer. You rest your head on his chest and softly cry at missing what you can never have.

“There are other ways to have kids. We can adopt or foster.”

“All I wanted before I was taken was to have a family of my own.”

“We can have that.”

“Even if I can’t give you a child biologically?”

“Even that. Family doesn't mean blood. We make our own in any way we want.”

“Are you saying you want to adopt a child with me?” you sniffle.

“We’ve had a few good years of marriage. I think it’s time we bring someone new into the picture, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I do,” you smile and kiss him. “When we get back, we can look into it.”

“Okay,” Steve nods and kisses you once again.

x

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[americasass81]

Back To Nature

Warnings 18+ for the following:- Pretty much nothing but actual fluff as far as I cat tell.  Any sexual encounters are merely hinted at.  Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason. Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are my own.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Author’s Note 1:- This was written especially for @navybrat817 who celebrates her birthday today.  Hope this brings a smile to your face Navy.  I can’t think of anyone more deserving of this type of gift than you.  Have a wonderful day love.

Author’s Note 2:- [Text Message]

Author’s Note 3:- As always, all images have been found through google search.

Synopsis:- Who knew being gifted a weekend away would turn out to be the birthday treat that would change your life for the better?

Pairings:- soft!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count:- 3,053

Rolling over in bed as the morning light broke through another blissful night, you knew one thing deep in your bones ... you didn't want to get up.  Now it wasn't that you were depressed or anything serious like that, you had simply had enough damn it.  Work days spent shouldering the majority of the tasks as colleagues commended you on the fabulous job you were doing while never quite doing their own share in return, had finally taken its toll.

And that was before you started dwelling on your personal life.

Guaranteed four weeks vacation time a year from work, there always seemed to be some crisis or emergency that only you could fix and so dates dwindled down to nothing and nights out with your girlfriends seemed to have you leaving the venue early just to get a few decent hours kip before the week began again.

So when then was it going to be your turn?  When would you be able to let your hair down, kick your feet up and just say to hell with responsibility?  When would your birthday be something you genuinely looked forward to instead of yet another day that passed by in a total blur?

Giving yourself five more minutes now before finally giving up on what might be while dragging your body into a sitting position, your hand reaching out to switch off the bedside alarm clock brought a startling realization to your still addled brain however.  The alarm clock wasn't there.  Bringing back your hand now and searching through your memory for a fragment of the dreaded sound that never failed to wake you up, the lack of it and the monstrosity that created it, now found you wide awake in a way you never were before.  For something was definitely amiss.

Feeling around the bedside unit once more and finding a lamp now instead of the aforementioned alarm clock, its light cutting through the remaining darkness showed you things were far more sinister than they first appeared however.  For this was not your room, your bed or even your house if the man sleeping beside you was any indication.

So what the fuck then was going on?

Reaching quietly for your phone now while switching off the lamp to plunge the bedroom into darkness once more, the glow from your phone now illuminated a discarded robe by the side of the bed and so leaving the comfortable structure without waking the beast you were not yet ready to deal with, a successful trip out to the waiting kitchen and living area brought you some kind of answers at least.

You had woken up in a hotel it seemed.  But how did you get here?

Sitting down in the nearest chair now while ignoring the clothes discarded haphazardly around the room, the torch on your phone, the card on the counter and the brochure on the coffee table began to paint a clearer picture of what was going on at least.  Your girlfriends had had enough.

Complaining non-stop about the three weeks of intensive work that had kept you away from them and enjoying your life, they had foregone physical gifts this year and treated you instead to a luxury birthday weekend at the very exclusive Emerald Forest Spa & Resort.  Their only request being that you chill out, forget about work and bring each of them back a home spa kit.  That and maybe find a man while you were at it.

Well, if the scene in the bedroom was anything to go by, you had that part of the weekend covered it seemed.  But what else had you been up to?

Relaxing deeper into the couch now that you at least knew where you were, the gaps in your memory still needed filling and so you decided to start at the beginning.

Leaving work two hours earlier than usual when your boss discovered you were going away for a birthday weekend, your case was already waiting in the trunk of your car and so now all you had to do was set off on the road.  Turning the key in the ignition and programming your destination into the GPS, three hours later and the time for relaxing had finally begun.

Driving up to the exquisite lodge and stopping your car outside the entrance, it finally felt like your weekend had started and you suddenly felt lighter.  Handing your keys to the valet then while the porter took your case and told you to meet him at reception, you now made your way into the lodge, received your room key and followed the kindly porter up stairs and along corridors until at last the door opened on the most spectacular suite you had ever seen.  God, you were going to kill them.

Tipping the porter now and thanking him for his service, you opened the doors leading out to the balcony, took in the view and shook your head as you sat on a lounge chair and hit the group chat message logo on your phone before typing.

[A suite ladies?  What were you all thinking?  You know I would have been happy with a broom closet.  You really are too kind to me.  Thank you all so much.  Love you loads to the end and back, we'll chat again when I get home.]

Sending the message then and bringing the phone to your chin as you smiled at how blessed you truly were, the ambient noises drifting up from the outdoor pool made you long to leave the world behind and begin enjoying yourself, so that's exactly what you did.

Heading back into the suite now and moving your case into the bedroom, you quickly peeled yourself out of your office attire, grabbed an equally quick shower and dressing next in the beautiful turquoise swimsuit Lisa had gifted you on your last birthday you then claimed a complimentary robe, pulled it on and headed back down to the lobby with your tote bag to where this whole adventure had first begun.  Making your way to the outdoor pool then, the mob of people socializing around here and creating the noise that had traveled quite well up to your balcony was a bit much to start off with however and so, returning indoors, you inquired directions to to the indoor facilities, found your way there easily and exhaled a genuine sigh of relief.

This was definitely more your pace.

Two women chatting amongst themselves.  A man and a woman on opposite sides of the pool, one reading a book, the other engrossed in an actual newspaper.  While a couple in and around your own age cuddled in the hot tub in a manner you had to admit was something you could definitely go for at this point.  Nothing outrageous or sexually inappropriate given where they were, they simply seemed to be enjoying each other's company, but it still didn't stop them from passing along a pleasant hello as you walked past.

Returning the hello and walking on to the nearest available lounger, you placed down your towel and bag by the side before directing your attention to those people present and asking if they minded you using the pool.  Telling you to go ahead and enjoy yourself, you did exactly that as those around you returned to their activities as if you weren't even there or had been a part of the group since the very beginning.  And as it turned out, that's exactly how they made you feel when your muscles cried out for a break and the lounge chair you claimed earlier called out to you once more.

Laying on it now as the young couple, Debbie and Marcus, took up the other two available spaces, a pleasant conversation between the three of you revealed that this was their first vacation since their daughter had been born.  Which was why relaxation and rejuvenation was so important to them it seemed.  At least according to Marcus anyway.  Opening up to them a little bit about yourself then and the circumstances that landed you here, it was Debbie who spoke up now and warned you not to leave here without making use of the spa facilities.

Oh sure, the pools were great and the outdoors were fabulous given where the lodge was located, but you had to promise her that the spa and its treatments would be a priority.  Apparently, at least if the gentleman across the room was to be believed when he also joined the conversation, their treatments could add years to your life, get rid of knots you never even knew you had and thoroughly rejuvenate your mind, body and soul.  Well with a recommendation like that, who were you to argue?

Smiling and agreeing to their requests now as Debbie and Marcus said their goodbyes and headed off on their next activity, you now reached into your bag, took out the book you had started reading two months back and beginning all over again, was now more relaxed than you had been in ages by the time you reached the halfway point.  Checking the time on your phone now and agreeing with your stomach when it started complaining, you put away your bits and pieces, said your goodbyes to the few new people who now occupied this space and headed off back to your room to plan how best to satisfy your appetite.

Which apparently was quietly you decided once you made it through the majestic building and all the way back to your suite.

Closing the door upon stepping back into the solitude of your room, a quiet evening was now your plan for finishing the day and so calling down for room service, you left instructions for it to be placed on the dining table and then headed off into the bathroom to shower and slip into something best suited to an autumn evening relaxing at home.  Completing all this, you then found yourself twenty-five minutes later curled up on the sofa enjoying a glass of wine and a delicious meal that you had to admit may actually have been better than sex.

Then again, maybe it had just been so long since you'd had sex that you had actually forgotten how good it could be.

Leaving this thought aside however as you could find it beginning to dampen your mood, you instead finished your meal, took the remainder of your glass of wine into the bedroom and switching on some music tossed your body back on the bed until morning found you fully clothed and far more relaxed than you could ever remember feeling.  It seemed switching off really could happen.

Rising out of bed the next morning now as a newfound energy coursed through your well rested body, you changed out of your comfy clothes, grabbed a quick shower to freshen up and fifteen minutes later found yourself downstairs in the restaurant tucking into a deliciously healthy breakfast you then intended to walk off.  Heading out the main door of the lodge then, you popped in your earbuds, switched on some music and made it a few steps into the surrounding woodland when the reality of where you were and what you were doing finally hit you.

This was not the city.  You didn't need music here to drown out the noise of traffic in order to find a calm and quiet space.  This was a calm and quiet space.  Smelling like the outdoors were supposed to smell, the sound of the breeze whistling through the trees, the birds chirping all around you and the crunch of twigs under your feet all blended beautifully to send you on your hike with a newfound appreciation for the sense of solitude you knew the city could never provide.  This was relaxation the way it was meant to be.

Returning to the lodge now two hours later feeling totally reinvigorated, yet sore in places you haven't exercised so much in years, a salad and sandwiches back in the restaurant you had set out from earlier checked off another box on your to do list and now it was time to shut your body up, keep your promise and partake in some of the spa treatments this place was apparently famous for.  So that's exactly what you did.  Heading back to your room for a quick shower, one phone call and a thorough search through the catalog later and soon you were ready to see just what this place was capable of.

As it turned out, you weren't disappointed.

Letting go of a lifetime of tension with a full body massage.  Relaxing through a facial.  Actually dozing off during your meditation session.  While wincing slightly through your waxing appointment, it was definitely the wrap session that topped off the whole experience and you reminded yourself to thank Debbie for the push she gave you if your paths ever crossed again.  Choosing a mixture of seaweed and algae, the twenty minute session followed by the warm shower afterwards definitely left you feeling like a new woman and now a hot meal with a few drinks at the bar seemed the perfect way to finish off the night.

Which is how it seemed you had ended up how you had woken up.

Booking a table in the restaurant for an hour after your spa experience finished, you arrived at the bar feeling totally refreshed and signaled the bartender for a Cape Cod before finding a vacant stool to enjoy your drink in peace while you passed away the intervening time.  But apparently that plan was not to be.  Walking through the entrance now and asking the same bartender for a beer, a guy that knew his way around a gym asked if the stool beside you was taken and what were you supposed to say?

'Of course not, but I'd prefer it if you didn't sit there.’  ‘You could sit there but you look like you're on the prowl and I'm so not interested.'  God, even in your head both those statements sounded incredibly rude and that was not the type of person you were.  So what other choice did you have?

Honing in on your nice girl qualities and plastering on your best fake smile, you told him to go ahead and that's exactly what he did because it seemed he did indeed have an ulterior motive after all.

Starting off your second drink now as the bar began to fill up with couples and single men and women, it was clear to see that some indeed were on the prowl as you had suspected earlier of your silent companion and one more drink and a short conversation revealed that protecting your peace had been his only intention.  Realizing now that his presence had kept the trolls from actually bothering you, you suddenly thought ill of your first impression of him and hearing your name called for your table you quickly decided to show him some consideration instead by asking him to join you.

To which of course he readily accepted.

Chatting together in the restaurant now as meals were delivered, plates were cleared and glasses were emptied, the time seemed to fly by and as the customers slowly scattered you knew you were having too good a time for it to end so soon ... so why should it?

Requesting a bottle of the same wine both of you had consumed throughout dinner, you then asked Bucky, for that was his name apparently, if he wished to end the night in your company.  And of course he was only too happy to accept if it was something you truly wanted.

Reassuring him now that you wouldn't have made the offer if it was not something you were comfortable with, a trip up the stairs, a glass of wine each and soon the suite was witness to an orgasmic coupling your body had not experienced in quite some time.  And if you were honest, it was every bit as restorative as the treatments in the spa.  But you couldn't see them putting that in the brochure.

Laughing to yourself at this thought now as the sound of the bedroom door opening brought you back to the present, Bucky joining you on the couch now made you a little nostalgic for the night you'd just had and the feelings it had reawakened.  But you knew this couldn't last.  After all, this was just a weekend trip for you and while what happened last night had been truly spectacular, life would have to return to normal when the sun rose again in twenty-four hours.  And that wasn't even touching on the fact that you didn't really know all that much about Bucky.

Oh sure, you had both divulged what you were doing here and what both of you did for a living.  But other than finding out he was here mending a broken heart, you had never actually asked him where he lived.  Like you, was he a city person born and raised around traffic and smog and alarm clocks that dictated each and every second of your lives.  Or perhaps he was more like the location both of you now currently inhabited.  Free spirited, sweats wearing nature boy who thrived in an environment as unpredictable as he had been between the sheets the previous night.

Making sure to hide your embarrassment now as this thought conjured up some of the activities both of you had engaged in last night, Bucky somehow seemed to zone in on what you were thinking however and whatever plans you might have had for the morning quickly had to be thrown out the window when your robe was ripped open and Bucky helped himself to his own form of breakfast.

Laying on the couch then in a helpless pool some time later, Bucky reappearing and carrying you off into the waiting bathtub gave you plenty of time to discover his secrets however as he now showed you firsthand the benefits that could be experienced when a bath that easily accommodated two was mixed with sex and powerful jets.  This was definitely shaping up to be one birthday you weren't going to forget any time soon.

[cdroloisms]

Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Anticipation & Survival

woo :D was able to participate this time with a little fic, hopefully this means i'll have the time to try and write more consistently again :') hope you guys enjoy 2.8k words of c!Dream being Normal and Fine and c!Sam being absolutely miserable.

---

The prison is working out well. 

Dream spins the clock. The background is mostly a sunny blue sky, with the slightest creep of dark blue rotating in along the right. The sun is a bright dandelion yellow. It’s afternoon. Maybe two, three o’clock. He’s been tracking the days by sunset, when the clock is split in equal halves of blue and navy. Ranboo visits too, to corroborate the time, but it’s a good habit to keep track while he can. It’s been seven days. A whole week. 

Besides Ranboo, there’s been one visit. Tommy. He’s seen three people, since being put in here. Tommy, Ranboo, and Sam. He’s eaten twenty potatoes. Counting is mundane, but so is everything now. There isn’t much to do in prison. Just sweat, and stare at lava, and stare at obsidian when that makes his eyes hurt, and wait for Sam to come in and check that he’s not been doing anything stupid, and wait for visitors, and eat and drink and sleep. It’s not a big room. He wouldn’t say it’s a particularly small one, either. The ceiling’s a little low, and there’s not anywhere to run, of course, but there’s plenty of room to pace and sit and lie down straight and he can sit down on the chest fine without hitting his head on stone. It’s not like he’ll need much space to carry out any plans in the foreseeable future. The cell is absent of certain comforts—a cot, for one, for obvious reasons—but once you get used to that, and the food, and the heat, it’s really not that bad. It’s not like he’s any stranger to roughing it. 

From a certain point of view, it’s almost relaxing. Sam is predictable. Almost more of a clock than the clock he’s given him, which is half the reason Dream throws it in the lava at all; Sam is reliable. His reactions are reliable. He gets food delivered twice a day, once in the morning, once at night. The nightly visit is accompanied by questioning, and occasionally Sam comes into the cell around midday to interrogate him too. Dream cooperates. Why shouldn’t he? He’s already spilled his whole plan to everyone on the mountain, gloated to Tommy, who has surely run his mouth to everyone within earshot by now. There’s no point to him being cagey at this point; no, better to rave and rant about Tommy and exile and his plan in the mountain, better to let Sam get all the information he wants and watch his eyebrows knit in disgust. Sam raises his voice, Dream answers his questions, Sam storms off. He’s even started watching the clock, just out of curiosity, and Sam leaves his cell pretty much the same time every day. Clockwork. 

There was one day when Sam didn’t come at all and Dream had—a moment, admittedly, embarrassing enough, just a string of disconnected thoughts about what would happen if the Warden of the prison suddenly dropped dead and died—but Sam had been right there the next day, looking more miserable than Dream has ever seen him. He made a quip about skipping work that made Sam snap at him; Dream takes it as a good sign, that the man guarding him seems to be more pained about the fact that he left him alone for a day than Dream was bothered about the disappearance of the single person responsible for every aspect of his life for the foreseeable future. That’s Sam, though. Dependable. Dedicated. Never one to not take his job seriously. If Dream put Sapnap in charge of the prison, he’d probably starve to death before the first month was up, but Sam looks like he’d rather fall on his own sword than leave Dream alone for a full twenty-four hours again; Dream has it in him to feel bad that he’s putting the guy to work for the sake of his own vacation. Just, a little bit. 

Back to his point. The prison is relaxing. Really. It’s boring, sure, but obviously he expected that; he’s never had so little to do before. He wakes up at night (he’s been attempting to sleep at nighttime, just because the light apparently is supposed to mess with you, but his sleep schedule has been shot for months so it’s not like it really matters to him all that much) with his brain racing, grasping for a list of tasks to do, only to come up empty. It’s a bit of a marvel. He thinks it’s funny. Yeah, brain, he’s in his—vacation arc. They’re doing nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just like they planned. Nobody’s getting into this place to kill him, not without smacking face-first into, like, a billion security protocols, not without dealing with Sam’s workaholic Warden schtick on their ass. He’s even getting food hand-delivered to him. Full service! Or something. 

He spins the clock again. Tommy gave him books to write. Sam flipped through them, asked questions, Dream answered. He’s not writing answers for them. He might throw them in the lava, if Sam doesn’t just confiscate the damn things; Dream knows he wants Tommy nowhere near him. Fair enough. Maybe he can write some long-ass manifesto about how much he wanted Tommy’s discs for Sam to chew on, if he gets bored enough. He laughs a little at the thought as he thinks it—okay, yeah, nah. He’s not at that point yet. 

He lies down. Horizontal. The ground is hot, but everything’s hot, and he’s getting used to it at this point; better hot than cold, honestly. He’d rather sleep here than out in the snow. The ceiling is a plane of unbroken black stone. Dream raises his hand, splays out his fingers. His nails are starting to get long. Nothing to file them down with in here…teeth it is. Whatever. He lets his hand fall back to the ground, sighing. His eyes glance over at the clock. 

Barely any time has passed. Still hours before Sam comes back. Dream bites back a low groan. Fine, fine, the boredom is getting to him. A little bit. He’s not surprised—it’s not like he’s ever done well with sitting still—but it’s still, annoying. He waves his arms and legs like he’s making a snow angel in the obsidian. Or doing jumping jacks. He should do jumping jacks, maybe. He’s got a basic workout routine to do daily—or several times a day, when there’s nothing else to do (there’s always nothing else to do, but whatever), but he’s not in the mood for it right now. 

He clicks his tongue, just to hear himself. He talks to himself, sometimes, but he has to be careful what he says. Not that it’s not a good thing to keep up, though, for the madman routine. It’s much better to talk to himself when he knows he has an audience, muttering Tommy, Tommy, Tommy in those minutes before Sam enters his cell. Fun, even. Sometimes he writes out evil speeches to give in his notebooks, burning the pages in the lava before Sam arrives. He shouldn’t get reckless with it or anything, pushing the things too far past the point of absurdity, but at this point he could probably get away with saying—just about anything. He could blather on about how he wanted to keep Tommy in a cage and play his dumb little discs to him all day until he goes insane, and Sam would write all of that down in his—book with his face twisted up under his helm while Dream tries not to break down laughing and give away the whole ruse. Not that laughing doesn’t work out for him either, to be fair. He’s gotten pretty good at the villain laugh. 

Dream stands up. He looks at the clock mounted in the item frame; the sliver of night sky on the right side has grown just slightly wider, enough to expose the slightest edge of one white-dotted star. Still hours before sunset. He pulls it off the wall, watching the background tick ever slowly forward. The gold gleams, polished to a mirror finish. 

Sam’s craftsmanship is unmistakable, even with something as small as this. He almost feels bad for what he’s about to do. 

He holds the clock up to the lava, keeping it in his hand for as long as he can handle it before the heat against his palm makes him shove it entirely under the flow, watching it disappear through strings of smoke. The crackling noise fades back into the normal hisses and pops after a few seconds; the smoke will linger for longer. Dream stands there, the lava’s heat at his face. It hurts his eyes to look at.

…whatever. 

He backs away. Then claps, brushing his palms against each other. Clock’s been burned. Another item of his daily itinerary handled—not that he does this daily. Has to keep Sam on his toes, right? The crazy prisoner isn’t supposed to be the predictable one, not like the ever-punctual Warden. This is—important, he’s decided, for his image. Well, not important, maybe, but it’s calculated. Beneficial. Nobody sane takes the one thing they have in their cell and destroys it repeatedly for literally no reason. Sam’s prisoner, the crazy guy that was trying to take over the server, isn’t sane. No one questions why an insane guy tries to control everyone with a bunch of shit he doesn’t even have, why he thinks he can keep someone locked up in a two-by-one box with a couple of iron bars, why he listens to a guy threatening to kill himself when he can literally raise the dead. It’s all set dressing. Method acting. One or the other, or both; it’s not like he’s ever watched a real play in his life. All that matters is that everyone thinks he’s crazy because no one asks a crazy guy why he’s acting crazy, and crazy people do stuff like obsess over stupid pieces of vinyl and talk to themselves and destroy their own shit for no reason. 

(Which probably makes Tommyinnit a crazy person, ha.) 

Sam will come back. Soon. He will bring potatoes with him, and investigate the cell, and see the missing clock. He will complain. He will threaten Dream, rave about the destruction of prison property, telling him that he won’t replace it. He will question him about Tommy. And tomorrow morning, a new clock will be put in its place. Honestly, Sam would probably give himself an aneurysm if he had to look at the cell with one of its components missing. It seems like the kind of thing to bother him too much not to set straight. And tomorrow, maybe Dream will throw the clock into the lava again, and maybe he won’t. He’ll see. 

He’s the one that decides, in the end.

— 

Sam checks his comm again as he waits for the lava to fall, head already pounding. He’s had an on-and-off migraine ever since his night with the Egg, and the current wave shows no sign of abating any time soon. If he could have it his way, he’d be back in his bed, Fran curled up beside him, where it’s dark and quiet and comfortably cool instead of sweating half to death in a suffocating suit of full armor. Instead, he’s nursing a headache that only gets worse with every notification he reads off the log pulled up on his screen; he doesn’t even bother counting the string of [Dream tried to swm in lava] that appears under today’s date. The fact that it’s a seemingly longer list than the days previous does little to help his already bad mood. 

He still has no idea what Dream hopes to achieve by doing this, besides attention. Not that Sam has even been trying to give him that, these days; he visits twice a day, once at 9 the morning and once at 6 in the afternoon, and then leaves the prisoner to himself. Sam doesn’t answer to him. He’s not going to get the same reaction he got the first time he pulled this stunt, when Sam had rushed into the cell in the middle of the night, heart in his throat after running halfway across the server, only to find Dream waiting for him in the middle of his cell with his mask smiling back mockingly. If he’s hoping to stir Sam into a panic again, he’s sorely mistaken. But still Dream continues. He’s probably just doing it to get a reaction out of him. He probably thinks that’s funny. 

Dream is standing, waiting for him. Muttering to himself, he thinks he can hear. Sam pulls the lever for the bridge and steps on it, his sword in hand, wanting to get this visit over and done with as quickly as possible. He might sleep in the Warden’s quarters here, tonight, just to avoid the commute back to his base. Yeah, that sounds good. All he has to do is survive one conversation with Dream. 

The prisoner has stopped talking to himself by the time Sam steps into the cell, lifting his chin as he looks at him. 

“Hi, Sam.” 

Sam makes a vague noise of acknowledgement, not more than a low grunt. His eyes scan the room from left to right, stopped prematurely by the sight of the empty item frame mounted on the wall. His headache grows exponentially worse in an instant, a stabbing pain hammering itself into the back of his skull. He grits his teeth. 

He should’ve expected this. He knows he should’ve expected this. 

“Prisoner.” 

“Sam,” Dream replies, his smile audible in his voice. Sam closes his eyes, a prayer flitting across his overtaxed mind. God help him.

“Where’s your clock.” What’s the point of asking, even. Dream sways from foot to foot. 

“I burned it?”

“Why did you do it. Again.” Dream shrugs. Sam steps forward, shoves him back. “Don’t be so dumb, Dream.” 

The prisoner barely seems to react, his back hitting the wall. His voice is nearly sing-song. “Ohhh. I got you though.” 

Sam wishes, not for the first time, that he didn’t have the work ethic that keeps him from coming into the cell drunk. Surely the prisoner cannot be any more infuriating to handle with the help of some alcohol. He holds the prisoner by his jaw and knocks his head back against the wall, gauntlet digging into the pale skin under the bottom edge of his mask. 

“What is wrong with you!” Dream struggles, slightly. Sam kicks at his legs. “Don’t move. Answer my question.” 

“Let go.” 

“How many times have I told you not to burn the clock, Dream!” He knocks the back of his head against the wall, harder this time. The struggling stops. “Do you think it’s funny? I don’t have to replace your clock!” 

Dream sounds a little dazed when he replies, arms crossed at his chest. “I just wanted to burn it. So I did.” 

“That’s ridiculous. What is your problem.” He shakes his head by his jaw, once, then lets go, giving himself enough distance to swing a fist into Dream’s side, making him double over. He scoffs at the sight, anger white-hot. He knows he shouldn’t be letting the prisoner get to him. Knows that Dream is only doing this to mess with him, mess with him the same way he messes with everyone, trying to get into his head. His skull feels like it’s being split apart. 

Dream stands up straight again. All Sam can see is the flat, smooth plane of his mask, that smile, unchanged. His hands, knotted into tight fists at his sides, shake. The heat pulsing behind his eyes feels like rage, and also almost feels like he’s going to cry.

He can’t do this. The realization is abrupt, but sure. Not tonight, not with this headache, not with Dream. He can’t go through the same song and dance, can’t sit here and examine the cell and give the prisoner his potatoes and go through questioning for an hour, can’t spend the rest of his night going over his words with a fine-toothed comb looking for the nuggets of truth hidden in the midst of the prisoner’s crazed ramblings. Hasn’t he done enough? For the whole server, for everyone, day after day he stands and faces the monster before him and day after day he stands strong; retreating now feels like weakness, but he can’t. He honestly, truly, can’t. He ignores the weight of the potatoes in his inventory and turns. 

“Sam?” Dream speaks again when he’s reached the edge of the cell, sounding slightly winded. “What are you—?” 

Sam pearls across the gap, slamming the lever to lower the lava wall as soon as his vision clears. Tomorrow, he will be the Warden of Pandora’s Vault. Tomorrow, he will stand toe-to-toe against the one he has been entrusted to keep and stand firm. Tomorrow, he will do as he must, as the one responsible for the survival of everyone and everything he holds dear. 

Today, it’s just too much. He looks back to a wall of unbroken lava, only able to stare at it for a few seconds before turning away.