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selfawarejester · 3 years ago

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So, someone requested a fic where Blue Team rescues a Child!Reader from a war zone, but unfortunately Tumblr ate the ask. If you’re the one who requested it, please enjoy!

EDIT: found a screenshot! @simp-for-fictional-men-only, hope you like this!

Blue Team x Child!Reader (Halo)

It’s been a long “day”, even by Spartan standards.

Blue Team had been trying to repel Covenant forces on an Outer Colonies planet for over a week… but it hadn’t been enough. Command had called an evacuation, and after destroying a base to help the efforts, Blue Team had been ordered to help with final evacuation calls in the nearest town.

On the Pelican ride to town, there was a brief moment where they thought it was a waste of resources to send Spartans for an evacuation op, especially because the other Spartan teams were still doing the best they could to strike back at the Covenant; not necessarily to stop them anymore, just to hold them back long enough for the civilians to escape and maybe a little revenge. The events of the week, coupled with the guilt of their brothers and sisters still risking their lives, weighed on them heavily.

But at the end of the day, they’re glad they did: they found a group in the Rec center, a dozen people in the boroughs, twenty in an apartment complex — the Marines wouldn’t have been able to lift most of the wreckage that blocked them from escaping.

By the time they’d gotten to the outskirts of town, Blue Team had been left alone to sweep through the dead town. Chief considered just going to meet up with the Marines — surely, they could match the pace of the overloaded Troop Transports — and this area was just dilapidated factories and shady looking establishments that had long since been stampeded.

But a need to fulfil his task to completion stayed his hand… and thank god it did.

At first, it was just soft sniffles that sounded from the inside of the rundown factory. Chief and Kelly, who’d partnered up to search this side of the district, thought it was one of the many Jackals that had been posted in the previous sector wandering, or a Grunt that had been left behind after the Jackals had entertained themselves (in which case, they should probably put the thing out of its misery), so they go inside.

Chief goes first, moving carefully through the debris so as to not dislodge the wreckage, or disturb the corpses of the few soldiers and more civilians. He retrieves their dog tags, securing them in one of the compartments of the MJOLNIR, and Kelly follows, stepping where he does.

Slowly, the sound becomes louder and louder, wheezing and snotty sobbing. Definitely an injured Grunt, he thinks. It’s coming from under a slab of concrete propped up against a wall. Kelly flanks to the right, while Chief goes to the left. He signals that he’ll lift it on the count of three, and grips the edge of the slab. When the slab gets tossed aside, Kelly raises her shotgun, pointing directly at the small figure.

You shriek and bury your head in your knees, pulled up to your chest. You couldn’t believe that after all the gross, awful things you’d had to sit through, holed up in this corner, you were just going to die.

But when nothing happens for a solid five seconds, you chance a peek over your knees and gasp. S-117 and S-087 are emblazoned across the chests of the armored giants… Spartans.

Kelly and Chief exchange confused gazes, having no idea how to deal with children. The last ones they’d had any interaction with was the Castoffs on Netherop, but they were more feral gremlins than they had been children.

(Kelly and Fred still aren’t entirely sure that the whole incident wasn’t a heat-induced hallucination.)

John really doesn’t want to go through another episode like it, but on the other hand, it would be easier if you were pelting rocks at them.

Kelly, being the more personable of the two, kneels to your height (or as close as a Spartan could get) and softly calls. “You don’t have to be scared. We’re here to help.”

You knew that — they were Spartans! The greatest heroes Humanity ever possessed! You were just shocked that you were getting rescued by them.

“Y-you’re Spartans.” You whisper dumbly, but you couldn’t help it! How are you supposed to be cool when you grew up with Master Chief’s action figure on your nightstand. “Like Master Chief.”

You can’t see it, but John can sense Kelly’s smirk as she looks over at him and points. “Well, that’s the man himself.”

* Oh no. By the way your wet, moved eyes stare up at him, it seems you’re a fan.

OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!!! You hope your pterodactyl screeching wasn’t external.

“Whoa.” This couldn’t be real. You’d passed out from exhaustion, and were dreaming all of this. That could be the only possibility!

John knows that this is the part where he says something witty or inspiring… but he really doesn’t know what to say, so he just awkwardly clears his throat. “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head violently, a burning need to not disappoint your childhood hero, and clamber up to your feet… only to wince and lean against the wall, something sticky on your leg.

Now that you’re standing, he can see the dried blood around your ankle. “Hold still!” All the softness is gone from Kelly’s tone as she works on bandaging you up, but you don’t mind, appreciating how careful she’s being.

Co-ordinating with Linda, who informs him that there are patrols scouting the areas — probably only to get any survivors, and not to catch them, but they should still move — and Fred, who tells him that the convoy is flying off-planet via Pelicans in half an hour, John makes some quick calculations.

With the pace you’d set, hobbling alongside Kelly, whimpering every time you put your weight on your left foot, it would take them at least an hour. Too long.

“Whoa…” The sound comes unbidden from Fred when Kelly emerges, with you clutching at her hip, all bloody and dirty. A pang of sympathy strikes as he looks around and realizes all that you must have seen. He was well aware that normal children weren’t nearly as resilient as he and his siblings had been.

“….” He stays silent as you arrive in front of him, staring up at him with slight apprehension, heart racing as he tries to think of something to say — and for some reason, he lands on an awkward, weirdly Southern-sounding. “Hey champ!”

John and Kelly both shoot him weird looks, and he wants to dig a hole and die, when they hear it.

A small giggle falls from your lips, tiny hands covering your mouth as you try not to laugh. Fred sighs in relief, but his anxiety returns when Kelly’s joking voice comes over the comms saying “Well, I guess we know who’s taking care of them.”

Linda drops out of nowhere, and nearly scares you to death as you shriek and bump into John, holding his leg tightly. You don’t really notice how he freezes, confused again.

“…sorry.” She doesn’t sound sorry, you think with a pout and drop from Chief’s leg, careful of your own busted ankle.

“That’s Linda, that’s Fred and I’m Kelly. You can just call him Chief. What’s your name?”

“Y-Y/N.”

“Alright. We won’t be able to make it if you’re walking, so you need to get on one of our backs.” Chief tells you, straight to business. “Which one of us do you feel comfortable with?”

He’s really hoping you pick Kelly or Fred. It wouldn’t exactly be a burden, you’re much tinier than the full grown people he’s had to carry out of a war zone, and you’re handling it much better as well, even though you’re barely ten years old.

“Um…” You look shyly up at Fred. “If you don’t really mind…”

*Aw. That’s… actually kind of sweet. Fred beckons you over, and hoists you up between his shoulders, giving you the rundown on what to do if people start shooting, and to hold on tight when he tells you to.

*You’re much more considerate than the freaked out VIPs he’s had to extract. But he still feels you twitch every time the wind causes something to clatter, so he decides to strike up conversation.

“So how did you wind up there?” It’s not until afterwards that he realizes that, unlike soldiers, civilians aren’t comfortable discussing stuff like that. But you answer that it was your dad’s factory, explaining that it was Bring Your Kid To Work Day.

The Spartans, specifically Kelly, asked you questions about it, having never heard of it themselves. After all, military settings rarely allowed such breaches of protocol.

You only trailed off as you got to the part where he told you to hide, and Fred lets it be.

When you finally get to the convoy, a nurse hurriedly tries to pull you away from the Spartans to help out, apologizing for not doing it sooner when Fred tells her it’s fine and that you can stay. After all, Kelly had fixed you up well, and you seemed terrified at the prospect of being left alone.

All that was left to do was fly up to the ship in outer orbit, with the rest of the survivors. Since there were such few Pelicans, everyone had been crammed into them, military and civilians alike. You’d simply wandered onto the one they’d been on, sandwiched between Chief and Fred.

Chief watches you picking at your shorts, and suddenly remembers the chocolate bar Sgt. Johnson keeps giving him - “you’re not yourself when you’re hungry, Chief” He’d snicker and then leave, Chief just standing there, not understanding the reference - but hey, chocolate was chocolate.

“Here. You did well.” Your eyes go wide, and for a second he thinks you’re going to refuse, but then you snatch it out of his hand and snarf it down. This is how it must feel to watch him eat.

“You’re going to like it up there.” Fred chimes in when your gaze starts getting distant again. “Space is really cool.”

In a twist of fate, you find one of your best friends when you arrive on the ship. Their parents promise to take care of you, and thank the Spartans.

When they start directing the survivors to their quarters, you hug every Spartan, even Linda… or their legs, since you couldn’t reach anything else. (Thankfully, you telegraph it pretty well, so they don’t accidentally smack you or something.)

John just stiffens and then nods, Fred pats you on the head awkwardly and shuffles away (he was very shocked by the affection), Kelly laughs and claps you on the shoulder, and Linda just hums and pets you on the head like a dog, walking away afterwards.

You go on to be a Marine yourself, finding yourself on the Halo campaign, where Chief and Cortana save you once more. You’re surprised he still remembers you.

You leave a bar of the same brand he gave you at his shrine, giving a heartfelt eulogy and catching up momentarily with the other members of Blue Team before you all leave again.

You almost faint when he shows up at Requiem, though. Don’t feel bad, as Lasky fanboys behind Chief for the whole campaign.

Palmer corrals you and Lasky into a break room to make fun of your behavior after it’s all over.

#halo #fred 104 #john 117 #kelly 087 #linda 058 #halo x reader #fred 104 x reader #john 117 x reader #kelly 087 x reader #linda 058 x reader #hope I got all their characters right!#I’ll add a read more later

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 4 years ago

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happy getting hitched day! 1.9k, (sort of) ft. this

Most days of the year, Sam's the optimist.

It doesn't usually fall on Dean to keep the spirits up in times of war anymore. Or worse, loss. And Dean, well, he thinks himself as enough of an in-the-moment kinda guy to not wallow when everything's not going to shit, right friggin' then.

Sam, on the other hand?

Beacon of light when there's a little Hell to raise, harbinger of hope when there's a God to defeat.

And losing his shit entirely when there's an aisle to walk down, leading to the girl of his dreams and the best decision of his life.

"Dean."

Dean fusses around Sam in compact little semicircles fixing his already perfect tux, while his brother panics in a way Dean only remembers from before the kid stopped having to look up at Dean.

But he's looking down at Dean now, wide-eyed and sweaty like the very first time Dean saw him off on a date when he was fourteen — with supple, bullshit eighteen-year-old advice, he bets — and thirty eight year old Sammy is, clear as day, losing his shit.

"Yeah?" Dean channels all the calm he's got into it.

"What if I forget my vows?"

"Well," Dean lifts his eyebrows, and picks up a linen thread from Sam's shoulder that caught his eye. "First of all, would kinda serve you right for writing six pages worth of them."

"Stop being a —"

"Front and back, Sammy. Front and back."

"Dean." Sam glares, more indignant than mad. Dean rolls his eyes, and Sam continues, replacing the look immediately with a troubled one that reflects the dilemma in his voice. "I mean, I've learned them, of course. At least I think I have — I practised twice last night, once this morning — but what's to stop me from fumbling, or forgetting —"

"Your gigantic nerd brain?"

"This is serious." Sam frowns, levelling another look at Dean like he's the one with the stellar proverbial cold feet. "Jerk."

"Bitch." Dean throws back immediately, and pauses in his shuffling around for effect. "Also, no. No, it isn't." And Sam goes to argue with a bitchface already surfacing, but Dean keeps going, sterner, more confident. This is something he's been doing all his life. He can probably talk the kid down from a panic high like this in his sleep. "And you're going to stop being a dumbass, and listen to what I'm saying."

"'M not a dumbass." Sam mutters.

"Yeah, you are." Dean shrugs, completely nonchalant, and Sam laughs in spite of himself, nervous, but a welcome improvement as he waits for Dean to proceed. (Big brother voice never lets Dean down.)

He's still got it.

"Here's what you're going to do. You're going to get out there," Dean continues, smiling now. "You're going to hold Eileen's hand while the minister marries you. And approximately ten to fifty minutes later, when he asks you to, you're going to look into her eyes, and you're going to say your vows. All stupid six pages of them, verbatim, 'cause I know you, and you're going to that's why."

"They're not stupid."

Dean hums in consideration, then smirks. "There's bravery in acceptance. They probably are."

"Cas called them exquisite." Sam crosses his arms, and Dean uses the opportunity to pick up a hair from his sleeve with a disapproving look.

(Dean had offered to give him a haircut seventeen times and gotten turned down, and now Sam was shedding.)

"Yeah, well, he's a walking-talking scrabble board with good manners, what is he supposed to do?" Dean rolls his eyes but instead of the expected response of Sam snarking back at him, bitchfacing him or something, Sam sighs.

The air thickens with something that's probably a bigger deal than having to wing a couple paragraphs of page three of the vows.

Dean watches Sam fidget with the buttons on his cuff.

"How did you know, Dean?" Sam asks, subdued, after a pause. "How did you know that Cas wasn't — that Cas wasn't making a horribly wrong decision."

Dean's almost halfway to making a joke about the other shoe but he stops himself.

Because this?

This, he gets.

This feeling of thinking — knowing — you're not good enough, that you aren't right for the one you love, that you're somehow deceiving everything that your life has stood as proof of, in allowing someone else to bind themselves to you, forever, when you know that everyone who's ever meant something to you has lost, and died, and hurt.

And that is exactly why he also knows what to say.

"Because I trust him, Sammy."

Sam's eyes start glazing over. "I trust her too. I just, I'm just so scared —"

Dean winces at his words.

(That's Sam, but it's Sam in Dean's shoes. It was Dean's job — for better or for worse — to keep him safe. And he's failed, failed repeatedly, and now Sam — well, he's as broken as Dean.)

"I love her too much for anything to go wrong, Dean, and something — no, everything, always goes wrong." Sam grits his teeth, and Dean puts his hand on Sam's shoulder.

Squeezes. "I get it. I swear to you, I do. But I also promise that you might regret the things we've done, and the things that have been done to us, but you're never going to regret this."

Sam nods jerkily, eyes downcast.

"And I get being scared. Hell, I was more scared than you the entire week, dude. But you know how — and why, I pushed through?" Sam looks up again. "Because at the end of all of this, there's something more important than the promises of eternal happiness, and forever, and the Celine Dion lyrics I know you've stuffed in your vows. There's them. The ones we love."

Dean swallows.

"And who love us too, because our fucked up heads be damned, I've seen the way she looks at you, Sammy." Sam's face breaks into a small, wet smile. "So you better believe she does."

"I do." Sam slowly nods, again, eyes brimmed with tears.

(Probably about to start spilling. The only consolation for Dean is that at least his tears don't fall. Means as long as he doesn't mind a blurry view of everything, he might as well ignore their existence like he means it.)

"There, was that so hard?" Dean laughs instead, although it's weak until Sam joins in, surprised, and only then registering the words he just spoke.

"Thank you, Dean."

Is all he says, and anything Dean might've wished to say (or wisecrack) back at him is dismissed immediately because he's being pulled into a full Winchester hug by his door-sized little brother, and all he can do then is hold onto Sam as tight as he's holding him, and hold on.

(Because they made it.

They found free will, they found love, and they found their happy ending.)

Because Sammy's getting married today.

And they don't just get to be okay anymore. They get to be happy.

Sam doesn't pull back from the hug for at least a whole minute, but Dean doesn't mind, because the tears welling up in his eyes are gone when he finally smiles at Dean, earnest. "I'm —" He starts to say, but gets interrupted by Cas walking up to them with a cluster of carnations in his hand, wearing a rich navy blue tux (the same as Dean's) and a wide smile.

"Hope I didn't interrupt anything," Cas beams, knowing exactly what he walked in on, and Sam shakes his head courteously while Dean battles the weirdly overwhelming need to kiss him right there — Cas is almost ridiculously beautiful when he's happy.

(He doesn't, though.

Cause he and Sam may've just had a moment but it's not like that means he'd be any less likely to be a pain in the ass about urgently requiring brain bleach and therapy, if Dean did.)

Cas carries on.

"Actually, Eileen's friend, Cara, brought her flowers and she suggested I should bring some to you."

"A corsage." Dean realizes out loud, beginning to grin at once, while Sam resorts to ducking his head like an overgrown teenage girl on her way to prom. Doesn't mean that Dean absolutely doesn't put on his best chickflick Dad voice (after he's taken over pinning the flowers to Sam's pocket from Cas, cause he was doing it wrong) and pat the corsage when he says, "Get 'er home by ten."

"The dynamics of that are all wrong." Sam points out with a traditional Sam smirk, and yeah, he's okay.

"The dynamics of your face are all wrong."

"Great comeback, yeah." Sam snorts, and Cas smiles. "Points for effort. I think."

"Whatever, you're the one wearing flowers right now."

"Dean, you wore an ascot on our wedding day."

"Ascot trumps flowers!"

"No, it doesn't." Sam bitchfaces, and Dean turns to Cas, and —

"No, it doesn't."

And Sam lets out a victorious "Hah!", and high-fives a (only slightly) confused looking Cas before pulling him into a sasquatch-sized hug as well, while Dean rewards the entire ordeal with a heartfelt eyeroll and absolutely doesn't look on at two of the most important people in his life while he pretends to be bristled about being ganged up against on his special day as Best Man.

Cas and Sam separate sooner than Dean and he did, and just in time for Jack to poke his head out the church door and remind them they're ready.

Then, Cas leaves to get Eileen, with another big smile and a signed Congratulations at Sam, and a fleeting cheek-kiss for Dean.

Then, Sam and Dean get in position behind the door and Sam refixes his tie.

(Then, Dean has to stage-whisper "Jack!" about seven times before the kid realizes he's being cued — the band had just started playing, he makes it a point to try to explain to Dean afterwards — and the great, wooden doors finally swing open to reveal a beautiful white aisle, and dozens of their friends and family smiling from both sides of it.)

And then, Dean finally walks the kid he's raised and the brother he's saved the World with countless times, down the aisle.

(Sam only messes up once in his vows. It's the last verse of Thank You, by Celine Dion.

Rumor has it, it was intentional.

Something about the first time they met.

Dean tells Sam, "You're welcome", the next time he sees him.)

#happy saileen day #dean winchester pov #i just wanted to write a nervous sam before walking down the aisle scene and it turned into an actual fic from dean's point of view so —#saileen wedding #sam winchester being sam winchester #eileen leahy #deancas #background destiel #bluefirecas #userpris #usersila #holmesemrys #tearsofgrace #userstarry #rambleoncas #userdori #oh writing my writing

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qqueenofhades · 5 years ago

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Re: the post you reblogged about Bush. I'm 21 and tbh feel like I can only vote for Bernie, can you explain if/why I shouldn't? Thanks and sorry if this is dumb or anything.

Oh boy. Okay, I’ll do my best here. Note that a) this will get long, and b) I’m old, Tired, and I‘m pretty sure my brain tried to kill me last night. Since by nature I am sure I will say something Controversial ™, if anyone reads this and feels a deep urge to inform me that I am Wrong, just… mark it down as me being Wrong and move on with your life. But also, really, you should read this and hopefully think about it. Because while I’m glad you asked this question, it feels like there’s a lot in your cohort who won’t, and that worries me. A lot.

First, not to sound utterly old-woman-in-a-rocking-chair ancient, people who came of age/are only old enough to have Obama be the first president that they really remember have no idea how good they had it. The world was falling the fuck apart in 2008 (not coincidentally, after 8 years of Bush). We came within a flicker of the permanent collapse of the global economy. The War on Terror was in full roar, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were at their height, we had Dick Cheney as the cartoon supervillain before we had any of Trump’s cohort, and this was before Chelsea Manning or Edward Snowden had exposed the extent of NSA/CIA intelligence-gathering/American excesses or there was any kind of public debate around the fact that we were all surveilled all the time. And the fact that a brown guy named Barack Hussein Obama was elected in this climate seems, and still seems tbh, kind of amazing. And Obama was certainly not a Perfect President ™. He had to scale back a lot of planned initiatives, he is notorious for expanding the drone strike/extrajudicial assassination program, he still subscribed to the overall principles of neoliberalism and American exceptionalism, etc etc. There is valid criticism to be made as to how the hopey-changey optimistic rhetoric stacked up against the hard realities of political office. And yet…. at this point, given what we’re seeing from the White House on a daily basis, the depth of the parallel universe/double standards is absurd.

Because here’s the thing. Obama, his entire family, and his entire administration had to be personally/ethically flawless the whole time (and they managed that – not one scandal or arrest in eight years, against the legions of Trumpistas now being convicted) because of the absolute frothing depths of Republican hatred, racial conspiracy theories, and obstruction against him. (Remember Merrick Garland and how Mitch McConnell got away with that, and now we have Gorsuch and Kavanaugh on the Supreme Court? Because I remember that). If Obama had pulled one-tenth of the shit, one-twentieth of the shit that the Trump administration does every day, he would be gone. It also meant that people who only remember Obama think he was typical for an American president, and he wasn’t. Since about… Jimmy Carter, and definitely since Ronald Reagan, the American people have gone for the Trump model a lot more than the Obama model. Whatever your opinion on his politics or character, Obama was a constitutional law professor, a community activist, a neighborhood organizer and brilliant Ivy League intellectual who used to randomly lie awake at night thinking about income inequality. Americans don’t value intellectualism in their politicians; they just don’t. They don’t like thinking that “the elites” are smarter than them. They like the folksy populist who seems fun to have a beer with, and Reagan/Bush Senior/Clinton/Bush Junior sold this persona as hard as they possibly could. As noted in said post, Bush Junior (or Shrub as the late, great Molly Ivins memorably dubbed him) was Trump Lite but from a long-established political family who could operate like an outwardly civilized human.

The point is: when you think Obama was relatively normal (which, again, he wasn’t, for any number of reasons) and not the outlier in a much larger pattern of catastrophic damage that has been accelerated since, again, the 1980s (oh Ronnie Raygun, how you lastingly fucked us!), you miss the overall context in which this, and which Trump, happened. Like most left-wingers, I don’t agree with Obama’s recent and baffling decision to insert himself into the 2020 race and warn the Democratic candidates against being too progressive or whatever he was on about. I think he was giving into the same fear that appears to be motivating the remaining chunk of Joe Biden’s support: that middle/working-class white America won’t go for anything too wild or that might sniff of Socialism, and that Uncle Joe, recalled fondly as said folksy populist and the internet’s favorite meme grandfather from his time as VP, could pick up the votes that went to Trump last time. And that by nature, no one else can.

The underlying belief is that these white voters just can’t support anything too “un-American,” and that by pushing too hard left, Democratic candidates risk handing Trump a second term. Again: I don’t agree and I think he was mistaken in saying it. But I also can’t say that Obama of all people doesn’t know exactly the strength of the political machine operating against the Democratic Party and the progressive agenda as a whole, because he ran headfirst into it for eight years. The fact that he managed to pass any of his legislative agenda, usually before the Tea Party became a thing in 2010, is because Democrats controlled the House and Senate for the first two years of his first term. He was not perfect, but it was clear that he really did care (just look up the pictures of him with kids). He installed smart, efficient, and scandal-free people to do jobs they were qualified for. He gave us Elena Kagan and Sonia Sotomayor to join RBG on the Supreme Court. All of this seems… like a dream.

That said: here we are in a place where Biden, Bernie Sanders, and Elizabeth Warren are the front-runners for the Democratic nomination (and apparently Pete Buttigieg is getting some airplay as a dark horse candidate, which… whatever). The appeal of Biden is discussed above, and he sure as hell is not my favored candidate (frankly, I wish he’d just quit). But Sanders and Warren are 85% - 95% similar in their policy platforms. The fact that Michael “50 Billion Dollar Fortune” Bloomberg started rattling his chains about running for president is because either a Sanders or Warren presidency terrifies the outrageously exploitative billionaire capitalist oligarchy that runs this country and has been allowed to proceed essentially however the fuck they like since… you guessed it, the 1980s, the era of voodoo economics, deregulation, and the free market above all. Warren just happens to be ten years younger than Sanders and female, and Sanders’ age is not insignificant. He’s 80 years old and just had a heart attack, and there’s still a year to go to the election. It’s also more than a little eye-rolling to describe him as the only progressive candidate in the race, when he’s an old white man (however much we like and approve of his policy positions). And here’s the thing, which I think is a big part of the reason why this polarized ideological purity internet leftist culture mistrusts Warren:

She may have changed her mind on things in the past.

Scary, right? I sound like I’m being facetious, but I’m not. An argument I had to read with my own two eyes on this godforsaken hellsite was that since Warren became a Democrat around the time Clinton signed Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, she sekritly hated gay people and might still be a corporate sellout, so on and etcetera. (And don’t even get me STARTED on the fact that DADT, coming a few years after the height of the AIDS crisis which was considered God’s Judgment of the Icky Gays, was the best Clinton could realistically hope to achieve, but this smacks of White Gay Syndrome anyway and that is a whole other kettle of fish.) Bernie has always demonstrably been a democratic socialist, and: good for him. I’m serious. But because there’s the chance that Warren might not have thought exactly as she does now at any point in her life, the hysterical and paranoid left-wing elements don’t trust that she might not still secretly do so. (Zomgz!) It’s the same element that’s feeding cancel culture and “wokeness.” Nobody can be allowed to have shifted or grown in their opinions or, like a functional, thoughtful, non-insane adult, changed their beliefs when presented with compelling evidence to the contrary. To the ideological hordes, any hint of uncertainty or past failure to completely toe the line is tantamount to heresy. Any evidence of any other belief except The Correct One means that this person is functionally as bad as Trump. And frankly, it’s only the Sanders supporters who, just as in 2016, are threatening to withhold their vote in the general election if their preferred candidate doesn’t win the primary, and indeed seem weirdly proud about it.

OK, boomer Bernie or Buster.

Here’s the thing, the thing, the thing: there is never going to be an American president free of the deeply toxic elements of American ideology. There just won’t be. This country has been built how it has for 250 years, and it’s not gonna change. You are never going to have, at least not in the current system, some dream candidate who gets up there and parrots the left-wing talking points and attacks American imperialism, exceptionalism, ravaging global capitalism, military and oil addiction, etc. They want to be elected as leader of a country that has deeply internalized and taken these things to heart for its entire existence, and most of them believe it to some degree themselves. So this groupthink white liberal mentality where the only acceptable candidate is this Perfect Non-Problematic robot who has only ever had one belief their entire lives and has never ever wavered in their devotion to doctrine has really gotten bad. The Democratic Party would be considered… maybe center/mild left in most other developed countries. It’s not even really left-wing by general standards, and Sanders and Warren are the only two candidates for the nomination who are even willing to go there and explicitly put out policy proposals that challenge the systematic structure of power, oppression, and exploitation of the late-stage capitalist 21st century. Warren has the billionaires fussed, and instead of backing down, she’s doubling down. That’s part of why they’re so scared of her. (And also misogyny, because the world is depressing like that.) She is going head-on after picking a fight with some of the worst people on the planet, who are actively killing the rest of us, and I don’t know about you, but I like that.

Of course: none of this will mean squat if she (or the eventual Democratic winner, who I will vote for regardless of who it is, but as you can probably tell, she’s my ride or die) don’t a) win the White House and then do as they promised on the campaign trail, and b) don’t have a Democratic House and Senate willing to have a backbone and pass the laws. Even Nancy Pelosi, much as she’s otherwise a badass, held off on opening a formal impeachment inquiry into Trump for months out of fear it would benefit him, until the Ukraine thing fell into everyone’s laps. The Democrats are really horrible at sticking together and voting the party line the way Republicans do consistently, because Democrats are big-tent people who like to think of themselves as accepting and tolerant of other views and unwilling to force their members’ hands. The Republicans have no such qualms (and indeed, judging by their enabling of Trump, have no qualms at all).

The modern American Republican party has become a vehicle for no-holds-barred power for rich white men at the expense of absolutely everything and everyone else, and if your rationale is that you can’t vote for the person opposing Donald Goddamn Trump is that you’re just not vibing with them on the language of that one policy proposal… well, I’m glad that you, White Middle Class Liberal, feel relatively safe that the consequences of that decision won’t affect you personally. Even if we’re due to be out of the Paris Climate Accords one day after the 2020 election, and the issue of climate change now has the most visibility it’s ever had after years of big-business, Republican-led efforts to deny and discredit the science, hey, Secret Corporate Shill, am I right? Can’t trust ‘er. Let’s go have a craft beer.

As has been said before: vote as far left as you want in the primary. Vote your ideology, vote whatever candidate you want, because the only way to make actual, real-world change is to do that. The huge, embedded, all-consuming and horrible system in which we operate is not just going to suddenly be run by fairy dust and happy thoughts overnight. Select candidates that reflect your values exactly, be as picky and ideologically militant as you want. That’s the time to do that! Then when it comes to the general election:

America is a two-party system. It sucks, but that’s the case. Third-party votes, or refraining from voting because “it doesn’t matter” are functionally useless at best and actively harmful at worst.

Either the Democratic candidate or Donald Trump will win the 2020 election.

There is absolutely no length that the Republican/GOP machine, and its malevolent allies elsewhere, will not go to in order to secure a Trump victory. None.

Any talk whatsoever about “progressive values” or any kind of liberal activism, coupled with a course of action that increases the possibility of a Trump victory, is hypocritical at best and actively malicious at worst.

This is why I found the Democratic response to Obama’s “don’t go too wild” comments interesting. Bernie doubled down on the fact that his plans have widespread public support, and he’s right. (Frankly, the fact that Sanders and Warren are polling at the top, and the fact that they’re politicians and would not be crafting these campaign messages if they didn’t know that they were being positively received, says plenty on its own). Warren cleverly highlighted and praised Obama’s accomplishments in office (i.e. the Affordable Care Act) and didn’t say squat about whether she agreed or disagreed with him, then went right back to campaigning about why billionaires suck. And some guy named Julian Castro basically blew Obama off and claimed that “any Democrat” could beat Trump in 2020, just by nature of existing and being non-insane.

This is very dangerous! Do not be Julian Castro!

As I said in my tags on the Bush post: everyone assumed that sensible people would vote for Kerry in 2004. Guess what happened? Yeah, he got Swift Boated. The race between Obama and McCain in 2008, even after those said nightmare years of Bush, was very close until the global crash broke it open in Obama’s favor, and Sarah Palin was an actual disqualifier for a politician being brazenly incompetent and unprepared. (Then again, she was a woman from a remote backwater state, not a billionaire businessman.) In 2012, we thought Corporate MormonBot Mitt Fuggin’ Romney was somehow the worst and most dangerous candidate the Republicans could offer. In 2016, up until Election Day itself, everyone assumed that HRC was a badly flawed candidate but would win anyway. And… we saw how that worked out. Complacency is literally deadly.

I was born when Reagan was still president. I’m just old enough to remember the efforts to impeach Clinton over forcing an intern to give him a BJ in the Oval Office (This led by the same Republicans making Donald Trump into a darling of the evangelical Christian right wing.) I’m definitely old enough to remember 9/11 and how America lost its mind after that, and I remember the Bush years. And, obviously, the contrast with Obama, the swing back toward Trump, and everything that has happened since. We can’t afford to do this again. We’re hanging by a thread as it is, and not just America, but the entire planet.

So yes. By all means, vote for Sanders in the primary. Then when November 3, 2020 rolls around, if you care about literally any of this at all, hold your nose if necessary and vote straight-ticket Democrat, from the president, to the House and Senate, to the state and local offices. I cannot put it more strongly than that.

#politics for ts #long post #anonymous #ask

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illuminatedquill · 3 years ago

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Extracurricular, An Analysis

Oh Ji-soo and Bae Gyu-ri

“Love is the ultimate outlaw. It just won’t adhere to any rules. The most any of us can do is sign on as it’s accomplice.” - Tom Robbins

You know the story. You’ve heard it before, right?

Boy meets girl.

Girl finds out that boy is running a side protection business for prostitutes.

Girl decides to blackmail boy into letting her join his business.

Classic high school criminal shenanigans ensue leading them into more dangerous situations where they are forced to make desperate decisions to stay alive.

Oh, and they fall in love along the way.

Oh? You haven’t heard this one before? Then let me introduce you to this delightful kdrama called Extracurricular.

I watched this one while waiting for the newest Hometown Cha Cha Cha episodes to drop and ended up binging the whole series in two days. There are many remarkable parts of this series: it’s a crime drama, first and foremost, that showcases high school teenagers caught in a cycle of violence and crime, abandoned by the society and adults that are supposed to be protecting them. There are no clear good guys and bad guys in this drama; everyone is cast in shades of grey. Our main leads, Oh Ji-soo and Bae Gyu-ri, run the prostitution business, and are both from broken family backgrounds. Their actions are morally questionable at best, but the top tier performances from Kim Dong Hee (you might remember him from Itaewon Class) and Park Ju Hyun make you cheer for them anyway. You want them to have a happy ending, despite the horrible things they do. The audience is always reminded that despite how clever they are in staying ahead, their actions have consequences, and they’re just high school kids. The drama never pulls it punches.

But, weirdly enough, it’s also a love story. And that’s the part the really sticks with me until now. (The chemistry between the main leads is absolute dynamite and I could watch ten episodes of them just verbally sparring with each other. They don’t even kiss. They’re that fantastic when together on screen.)

I’m writing this because this is undoubtedly one of my all time favorite kdramas and I have a lot of feelings about our main pairing, Ji-soo and Gyu-ri. I can’t call them a couple (wait, didn’t I just say they fall in love) because their relationship can’t be labelled simply as that. Think of it as something similar to the main leads in My Ahjussi. Two people who should have become soulmates, yet met at the wrong time.

This kdrama is not particularly happy, and while I do encourage people to watch this, I am warning that the subject matter is extremely dark. If you’re sensitive to scenes depicting sexual assault, graphic violence, or anything in that zip code you’ll want to steer clear.

Also, I’ll be diving into spoiler territory in this analysis. So if you want to go in clean, then stop reading here.

Still here? Awesome. Let’s dive deep into the messy, amazing pairing that is Oh Ji-soo and Bae Gyu-ri. First, let’s do a brief character background on our two main leads, starting with Ji-soo.

Oh Ji-soo is one half of our main pairing and this story starts with him. He lives by himself and has been essentially abandoned by his only parents; his father is a failed businessman who gambles whatever money he acquires on scams and his mother ran away. His apartment is small, sparse, but functional. He owns only a few outfits aside from his school uniform. The only unique item he owns is a pet hermit crab that he takes care of. His life outside of school is non-existent; he has no friends, no one to hang out with and do typical high school teenager activities with. He takes care of himself and lives only for himself and his “dream”: to graduate, attend college, get married, and have kids like a normal person.

But to do that, he needs a large amount of money. He has no other financial means to do so (his father is largely absent, as is his mother), so he decides, at some point, to start up this protection business for prostitutes. The drama doesn’t go into detail about the how and why he came to this conclusion that this was the best way to make a lot of money in a short amount of time, so you’ll have to suspend your disbelief from the get go. Considering the themes of the story (how youths abandoned by society tend to act out in extreme ways to make it in this world), it’s not hard to believe his desperation would drive him to make such a decision.

Ji-soo, despite his shady business, is actually a decent person. There’s a streak of humanity that exists inside him that refuses to go out, despite the increasingly dark and bleak events that start to overtake his life. He’s attached to his hermit crab, cares for his “employees” outside of them being tools to make him money, and doesn’t want to see anyone get hurt. He goes above and beyond what’s required to help out people at the risk of his own life (in particular, Gyu-ri, and we’ll get into that shortly).

What we learn from the first few episodes is that Oh Ji-soo is extremely smart and methodical in how he approaches his life. At school, he is known as a model student - quiet, top of the class in terms of grades, doesn’t draw any attention to himself, always follows along with what the teachers ask of him. Only his homeroom teacher, Mr. Cho, seems to consider his quiet style of existence to be concerning and tries to make him less socially awkward by pairing him up with another student in a new extracurricular club. This leads to the introduction of Bae Gyu-ri, Ji-soo’s longtime crush and future partner-in-crime.

Meet Bae Gyu-ri, the other half of our dynamic duo. Her introduction into the story kickstarts the entire plot, as one of her earliest actions leads to a domino effect that spells increasing doom and tragedy for our main leads. She messes with Ji-soo’s operation at a critical moment and she spends the rest of the drama doing her best to make up for the consequences that follow.

In my personal opinion, she is probably the best main female lead I’ve ever seen in a kdrama. Hands down, no other character exists (currently) that rivals her sheer cunning, wit, and badassery. Gyu-ri is Crazy, capital C, and is the chaos to Ji-soo’s control; the fire to his ice. Despite being the direct cause of half the events that happen to Ji-soo in the drama, he can’t help but need her because of what she offers. They make an incredible team. Her competitiveness, her need to win no matter the odds, helps them survive time and time again.

Gyu-ri is from the opposite end of the spectrum of Ji-soo; he’s dirt poor and she’s insanely rich (always nice to see a reversal of typical kdrama tropes). Her mother and father run a successful entertainment company. Gyu-ri is popular at school, friends with seemingly everybody, pretty, cheerful and gets along well with her teachers. Ji-soo, and the audience, believe from the beginning that she has the perfect life. It’s not hard to believe that she’s just involving herself in Ji-soo’s business because she’s bored and needs an outlet, at first.

We soon learn otherwise. Gyu-ri has more in common with Ji-soo than he initially realizes, in that they’re both trapped in circumstances beyond their control - it’s just that Gyu-ri’s cage is gilded, whereas his is not. Her parents are strict and have her life planned out for her, all without her consent or input, leaving her feeling frustrated and powerless despite her rich lifestyle. A suicide attempt hasn’t done much to change her parents attitude towards her, only serving to further their control over her life.

So, when she learns of Ji-soo’s operation she immediately seeks to angle her way into it. First, she tries to rip him off, believing that he’s an evil “pimp” and thus deserves it. But after spending some time with him, she changes her mind last second and decides to help him out instead.

And, now, let’s get into their relationship, which is one of the best (if not the best) aspect in the entire series.

I need to be upfront about something: the relationship between Ji-soo and Gyu-ri is not exactly healthy. I wouldn’t describe it as toxic - the circumstances surrounding them aren’t exactly the best environment to encourage open and honest communication - but it’s definitely not what should be considered ideal, especially for young adults, and especially for young adults who are dabbling in crime instead of studying.

So, why do I love them so much? If you’ve read some of my previous posts, you know that I loathe toxic relationships in kdramas, so I understand if you think I’m coming off as hypocritical here. Why do I like Oh Ji-soo and Bae Gyu-ri when I didn’t like, for example from recent history, (oh boy, here I go again on my Nevertheless BS) Park Jae-eon and Yu Na-bi?

First, Ji-soo and Gyu-ri are way cooler than Jae-eon and Na-bi ever could be. They run a criminal enterprise that involves having a high amount of intelligence, cunning, and daring to do so. Do Jae-eon and Na-bi run a criminal enterprise as a side business? No, they don’t, because they’re boring art students.

Secondly, Ji-soo and Gyu-ri actually progress in their relationship and change their views as they learn from each other. Now, granted, that progress isn’t towards becoming better versions of each other - quite the opposite. But at least they have progress. Jae-eon and Na-bi stayed in the same stupid cycle for the whole series and then decided that it was better staying that way as opposed to trying for something else.

Last, but certainly not least, Ji-soo and Gyu-ri are actually interesting to watch for me. The chemistry between Park Ju Hyun and Kim Dong Hee is explosive and they way they spar, exchange looks, and just generally exist around each other on screen is something I can watch forever. I’ve said this before but Han So Hee and Song Kang’s on screen chemistry, outside of their intimate scenes, really didn’t impress me.

Okay, back to Extracurricular. This relationship, man. It’s all I can think about (other than HomeCha’s Du-sik and Hye-jin, but that’s another post). Ji-soo and Gyu-ri are so good together.

I’ve noted before that Ji-soo is methodical in how he approaches his life; he plans out everything ahead, and rigs any situation as much as he can in his favor. It’s brilliant, but when a crisis happens, he doesn’t know how to deal with it effectively. He panics and flounders; becomes indecisive at a time when clear, decisive action is required.

Enter Gyu-ri. She quickly becomes the partner he never knew he needed. When there’s a situation, she becomes invaluable in her quick thinking and wit, coming up with solutions on the fly. It’s not perfect, but it keeps them just one small step ahead of whatever is coming their way.

The only thing preventing them from becoming unstoppable is the lack of communication and trust they have with each other. A lot of that has to do with how Gyu-ri entered Ji-soo’s business - she blackmailed him first, and, when that failed, she strong armed her way into getting him to accept her help. It’s implied in the drama that Ji-soo has had a crush on Gyu-ri for a while (since ninth grade, I believe) and in the first episode he actually gets the chance to spend time with her outside of school on a sort of quasi-date.

It goes sideways pretty quickly because of some shenanigans from his business, but not before she gets to know him and says some pretty touching words regarding his situation. Poor guy is head over heels - even after finding out that she’s the one blackmailing him, his feelings are only dampened, not extinguished. When he catches a glimpse of her family’s situation, he gains a deeper understanding of her and why she acts the way she does. Even more importantly, Ji-soo treats her the same after finding out this information which, to someone like Gyu-ri, means more than if he comforted her about it.

If you want to see a physical representation of how he feels, other than paying attention to his actions, you can see it in him keeping mementos from Gyu-ri. She has an interesting habit of folding bags into origami shapes and giving it to him. Even after the blackmail reveal, you can see that he continues to keep these in a container on his desk. It’s really cute that he keeps these, when it probably doesn’t even matter that much to Gyu-ri.

Towards the end of the drama, Ji-soo prepares to turn himself in to prevent Gyu-ri from being implicated in the crimes they committed. And it costs him almost everything to protect her. Ji-soo, the quiet, nerdy kid, puts himself on the line time and time again to protect Gyu-ri, knowing that it puts his life and his dream at risk to do so. And all for what? For some girl that he thinks doesn’t even like him in return?

Well, let’s talk about that. Because I’ve seen some comments that Gyu-ri was only using Ji-soo for her own selfish gain. And I can agree that was how it was at the beginning for her; she definitely was only interested in acquiring money, like Ji-soo was, in order to achieve her own goal of being free from her parents.

But, oh man, that is not what is motivating her at the end.

It’s actually pointed out relatively early by some of her friends that it’s obvious that she likes Ji-soo more than he likes her. Understandably Ji-soo is keeping her at arms length from him given the whole recent blackmailing, so it would make sense that it looks that way.

Further questioning reveals what she likes the most about him:

“It’s not like I’m crazy about him. He’s fun. And amusing. He’s smart. And there’s a certain charm he has. He also has a wolfish side to him. But he thinks he’s a puppy.”

- Bae Gyu-ri

But, as she gets to know Ji-soo better, you can certainly see that she starts to fall hard for him. As a cover story for why they hang out so much together during and after school, Gyu-ri states to everyone that they’re dating. The reactions across the school definitely imply that this is a shocking development, which means that Gyu-ri hasn’t dated anyone before. So why Ji-soo other than the reasons she herself states?

He challenges her, just as she challenges him. Gyu-ri may be the more dynamic, quick thinking of the pair but Ji-soo is every inch her intellectual equal - just in different ways. She doesn’t seem to be the type to be easily impressed, but you can tell that she’s definitely impressed by Ji-soo’s operation and how thoroughly set up it is. When Ji-soo is frustrated at the beginning by his setbacks, he blows up at another student (knocks him out in a crazy punch) and immediately walks over to Gyu-ri afterwards (who saw the whole thing) to inform her that she is now his partner in crime.

The look in her eyes, and the small smirk she has speaks volumes about her attraction to him in that scene. Smoldering.

And, oh yes, she’s prone to jealousy. Another classmate, Min-hee, gives Ji-soo a present out of the blue (it was supposed to be for her boyfriend, Ki-tae, but that’s another sub-plot) - all within view of Gyu-ri. It’s hilarious how she tries to brush it off. Later, for plot reasons, Ji-soo has to spend more time with Min-hee which only furthers Gyu-ri’s annoyance.

And her motivations stop being entirely about the money and more towards helping preserve the dream that she and Ji-soo share about being free. There’s a scene in episode 8 where it’s revealed that, due to a business partnership with a local gang (set up by none other than Gyu-ri herself in a desperate move), Ji-soo would have to drop out of school permanently to work on their behalf. Gyu-ri overhears this and, despite badly needing the gang’s help in sustaining their own business, immediately terminates the partnership.

All because it would interfere with Ji-soo’s dream.

Man, if that isn’t love.

In the following episode, Gyu-ri, and later on Ji-soo, is kidnapped by the same gang in retaliation for terminating their partnership. Ji-soo comes to her rescue but Gyu-ri is already almost free (again, she’s really, really badass) and is demanding that they bring Ji-soo to her instead of running for her life.

Surviving this latest attempt puts the two in a reflective, vulnerable mood and Gyu-ri asks Ji-soo why he keeps saving her. Ji-soo asks later on why she keeps risking her life to be with him. They don’t say the answer in words but in an almost kiss (yeah, you read that right - almost).

And then, if you aren’t already convinced, Ji-soo crosses his one last remaining line in an effort to keep Gyu-ri safe; he accidentally pushes a fellow classmate down some steps and, instead of helping her, leaves her to die after grabbing the evidence she has on him and Gyu-ri.

Extracurricular pulls off quite the magic trick here, hiding this well done love story in the middle of a serious crime drama.

The real tragedy is that Ji-soo thinks that Gyu-ri views this whole business, and by extension his life, as one big game. It’s something that she takes offense at, visibly becoming upset when he says that.

But even if that were true, he should be assured since Gyu-ri doesn’t like to lose.

As they hurtle towards the end and face up to the consequences of their actions, Ji-soo and Gyu-ri undoubtedly lose sight of their original goals and dreams. They do some fairly horrible things to stay alive and ahead of the police who are close on their trail. You can’t really blame them for doing what they did; in the face of a society that has abandoned them, what they’re doing is a logical outcome to gain what they want so desperately and deserve so much: the chance to be free to live like normal, care-free people.

I can’t say for certain that they achieve that. The drama is serious in consequences and, at the end, the net around them is drawing tighter and tighter. I won’t spoil the ending scene for you, because I highly encourage you watch this drama yourself but I will say this: Ji-soo and Gyu-ri seem stuck in an impossible situation with nowhere to go, and no one to help them, with a clock ticking down towards either death or discovery by the police.

But, all the same, I’m always the optimist. They’ve gotten through situations like this before and they can certainly do so again. Maybe not as bad as this one, but not too far out of their league. And, like I mentioned before, Gyu-ri doesn’t like to lose. Especially when it comes to Ji-soo.

Their relationship is truly dangerous, as Ji-soo himself notes. Them being together is the source of their problems; they’re too much alike now, as opposed to the beginning of the drama where he stated that they’re too different. Their love is the kind of love where both of them are willing to burn the whole world down if it means keeping each other safe.

I’m a real sucker for those kind of love stories. No one’s a hero here. They’re just kids in high school, doing the best with what they know.

Who are we to judge what is right and wrong? Especially when the one committing the acts are high school kids who don’t know any better and just want to save each other?

Do we have that right?

Do they really deserve that punishment? Shouldn’t we be pointing fingers at the society that forced them to act this way?

Extracurricular really makes you think about that. Is it really so outlandish and terrible what Ji-soo and Gyu-ri do to survive when the adults who are supposed to be protecting them, teaching them better, have failed in their duty?

Maybe they really did win at the end. Not so much in succeeding in their goals but in gaining something that not even regular people are likely to find - a partner, a soulmate, someone who will stand by you no matter what.

If you do watch the ending, and are not an optimist like I am, then all I can say is this: whatever happened, they were together at the end.

They were together.

#extracurricular netflix #human class #netflix #kdrama #oh jisoo #bae gyuri #park joo hyun #park ju hyun #kim dong hee

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lucemferto · 4 years ago

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Okay, here's a Hot Take I haven't seen a lot:

I’m not a big fan of how Sam’s character arc has played out so far especially in regards to the latest stream. It feels a little uneven – it almost feels like he’s playing two different characters; and not in a “This character is multifaceted”-kinda way, but more in a “This writing doesn’t know what it wants to accomplish”-kinda way.

The central conceit of Sam’s character – as far as I can tell looking at Season 3 – is a conflict inherent to his duty: is his duty loyalty to the rules or the protection of innocence. It’s the age-old question of doing what’s right or doing what’s lawful – it’s pretty often found in cop/cop-adjacent dramas.

Now with Tommy we’ve seen where his adherence to lawfulness leads – the loss of innocence. Tommy died; and Sam felt pretty awful about it. That’s like the biggest focus of his character’s arc after Tommy’s death and resurrection: Guilt, low self-esteem, a wavering sense of whether or not his approach to prison is the right way to go about thing (“Today, I made my first mistake as warden”)

I mean, this getting hammered home again and again – especially in the Las Nevadas-streams, where Quackity explicitly uses Sam’s guilt as a way to convince him to abandon the rules.

So, the set-up for the character arc seems pretty clear: Sam’s personal conflict is to find arrive at a point of synthesis between his two opposing impulses. We’ve seen him swing to far into one direction with the lockdown, so now he let’s his guilt trick him into abandoning the laws for Quackity.

(This could also be tied into the theme of Power with the power Sam personally holds and what responsibilities come with that).

But then comes the Ponk-dismemberment scene; and that one’s placed really weirdly. It comes right after Tommy’s death and resurrection and Las Nevadas Episode 1 that set up Sam’s further arc as abandoning the laws of the prison.

That isn’t to say that Sam cutting of Ponk’s arm is out-of-character. It’s in-character. The problem is that it escalates Sam’s character conflict in a completely different way than what was set up. Again, it’s placed very weirdly.

And same thing happens during the Break In. Sam discovers Tommy and again insists on the prison’s rules as if the lockdown and resulting death had never occurred. This is doubly bad because it involves Tommy, who is very specifically the one that kickstarted this conflict for Sam in the first place. But in this scene, there is no conflict for Sam. He just insists on the prison’s rules and threatens Tommy’s life (after Las Nevadas Episode 2 showed him in a deep depression over Tommy’s death).

It’s just kinda choppy and doesn’t seem to follow through on what’s been set-up before. The biggest problem with the scene as is, is that it’s too long. Sam and Tommy argue for what feels like ten minutes before Wilbur is resurrected. If it had been faster – Sam calls for Tommy to return, Tommy reveals himself, Sam is shocked and, in this moment, Dream kills Ghostbur – then we’d have a moment of ambiguity that would have played into the set-up for Sam: Would he have allowed Tommy to go through with his plan? Would he have given him the same leeway he has given to Quackity?

Which isn’t to say that this scene as is couldn’t have worked. I just think if this character arc was the ultimate plan, they should have Sam not feel so guilty about Tommy’s death and instead double-down on it being a necessity in order to preserve the integrity of the prison’s rules. Have him explicitly place the prison’s rules above all else and reaffirm that especially in relation to Tommy.

(This would also mean rewriting Las Nevadas, because he wouldn’t so easily allow Quackity to bend the rules and torture Dream).

So, yeah … that’s my gripe with Sam’s storyline currently. Hope this was comprehensible!

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ncssian · 4 years ago

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A Favor: Part Ten

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

warnings: NSFW (!!), light abuse mention

this chapter is dedicated to the amazing showstopping talented @duskandstarlight for reviewing my writing and helping me successfully edit the sexy times!! she's so cool yall ❤️

***

The first thing she notices when she steps inside is the sound of crackling, followed by a warm glow from the living area. The lights are all off, but the fireplace is ablaze.

Nesta’s brows furrow, confused, but then she sees on the couch— “Cassian?”

Cassian’s eyes widen at the sight of her, and he stands quickly from the couch. “Nesta.” He’s breathless. Like he ran a great distance to get here.

Nesta is worried that she had one Jello shot too many. That maybe she’s still in Eris’s car, dozed off and dreaming. She can’t remember falling asleep, though.

“What are you doing here?” she whispers. If she’s too loud, he might disappear.

“I came back.” His hands flex at his sides, and Nesta wishes for the millionth time that she was better at reading emotions, because she’d give anything to understand what’s going across his face right now.

“You’re supposed to be in Velaris for the weekend,” she says dumbly.

“Fuck the weekend. I couldn’t even make it through dinner.” Are his eyes red?

Nesta’s mouth opens and closes, and she turns toward the burning fireplace. Weirdly enough, she’s grateful for the lack of lights. She can’t see the depth of Cassian’s expression under the firelight alone, and he can’t see hers.

“Why?” is all she can say.

“I…” He scrubs a hand through his hair and blows out a harsh breath. “Shit, we promised we would take things slow just a few days ago.” He laughs derisively. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Nesta’s head swivels to Cassian, eyes focused on him in that intense way of hers. “Tell me. I want to know what you were thinking.”

He drops his head, staring at his shoes. “I missed you,” he says lowly. “Even though I knew you were doing perfectly fine without me, I drove all the way back here like an idiot because I wanted to see you.”

Nesta’s throat tightens the longer she stares at Cassian; it’s getting hard to breathe.

Cassian clears his throat in the silence, attempting to sound lighthearted. “So, that’s how I’m doing. What about you?”

“I had fun,” Nesta says, somewhat quiet.

“I saw.” He tries to smile. “You looked so happy in that picture. It made me happy.”

He’s telling the truth and lying at the same time, Nesta can tell. “I felt weird tonight, too,” she admits, swallowing. “Happy, but… lacking."

Cassian looks up at that.

“I’m really glad you came back,” she whispers. “I missed you too.”

“Nesta,” he breathes.

She takes a step closer to him. “I didn’t want to be clingy. Tell me if I’m being clingy.”

He shakes his head quickly.

“I don’t think you should leave me alone again,” she says into the dim glow of the room. "Not for a while, at least."

"I'm thinking the same thing."

He's right in front of her now, just inches away. She swallows; when did he get so close?

"If you want me to stop, I need to know now," Cassian says, voice low. His hands hover in the air between them, like he has to physically restrain himself from reaching out and touching her. "Because in a minute I won't remember why we agreed to take this slow."

All the air leaves Nesta's lungs in a straight whoosh. "I already forgot."

This kiss happens faster than the last one, but is somehow still slow— Nesta doesn't know which one of them moves first. All she knows is that one moment she's a lone figure, and the next she's joined with Cassian, his arms being the only thing still holding her upright.

He wasn't lying when he said he missed her, she finds out quickly. He kisses her with a drawn-out desperation that makes her head spin, using the distraction to ease her out of her coat and drop it to the floor. He pulls back for a sharp breath, only to take a look at her. "I can't believe I missed seeing you in a dress."

"I have more, we can look at them later," Nesta assures, her hands already reaching to tear the dress up and off of her. Cassian's hands catch hers at the last moment. "Easy, baby." He laces his fingers through hers. "I'm not going anywhere."

He pulls her in for another kiss before she can even process how much she likes the word baby. She latches onto his promise the way she latches onto his lips, like the string of a balloon about to fly away from her. He's not going anywhere. Not even to the next room.

The next minutes are the gentlest battle of wills Nesta has ever fought: every time she tries to speed things up, Cassian grounds her with his hands and mouth and towering form. When she becomes too impatient and reaches for the button of Cassian's jeans between kisses, he sweeps her right into his arms, forcing her legs to wrap around his waist and her arms to cling to his neck. His own hands slip right under her skirt, straight to her ass and squeezing.

The new angle presses her center firmly against his hard length, and she greedily accepts the simple pleasure he grants her with a choked gasp. "Can we please—"

"Don't rush this," Cassian murmurs into the underside of her jaw, walking them to the stairs. He stops to press her into the banister, rubbing his hips lazily into Nesta's. "I've waited a long time for you. Now it's your turn to wait." He bites down on a soft spot of skin.

This is real, Nesta finally realizes. This melting heat turning her limbs into jelly— it's not her mind wandering off to involuntary thoughts about Cassian's dick. The kind of thoughts that have her pinching her wrist hard enough to hurt. No, this is infinitely better than any three a.m. fantasy she's had so far.

He's carrying them upstairs now, but Nesta barely notices with how she's clasping his face, demanding all of his attention with her hungry kisses. It's a wonder they both don't topple down the steps with how starved she is for him.

How long has this need been building up in her? She doesn't want to know, even as the ache between her legs intensifies and she's eased onto a mattress. Blinking, she notices they're in Cassian's room. She hasn't been here since that night she was sick, and even then she didn't get a good look at the place through her haze of pain.

It's decorated with art and personal photos, big enough to carry a fireplace and a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. Her own room isn't half as nice. "You've been holding back from me," she accuses.

Cassian looks up from where he's kneeling between Nesta's legs at the foot of the bed, realizing that she's talking about the room. "Why?" he smirks. "You looking to move in?"

As if she can even consider such a thing right now when she's seconds away from combusting.

Like he knows exactly how she feels, Cassian pushes the hem of her black dress up until it bunches around her waist, leaving her painfully exposed. His eyes glaze over at the sight of her plain gray panties, narrowing on the darker damp spot over her slit. A predatory look crosses his face, one that makes goosebumps pebble along her thighs. He tugs her even closer.

"Cassian..."

It's too late for whatever Nesta is about to say, because Cassian isn't listening anymore. Leaning forward, he noses at her clothed crotch, placing a slow kiss on the wet fabric of her underwear before dragging it off entirely and tossing it aside.

Nesta gasps and squirms when he pulls her legs firmly over his shoulders. "Um," she tries to say, "I don't really have a great history of getting off to oral—"

She's interrupted by a long lick up her center, from the wetness pooling at her entrance to the tip of her clit. Her hips jerk involuntarily, and then Cassian is outright feasting on her, all his words of patience suddenly as meaningless as a snapped leash.

Nesta's head falls back against the mattress with both overwhelming pleasure and unexpected surprise. Getting eaten out has never done much for her in the past— most of the time she just ended up wet and frustrated, and not at all in a good way. She believed coming on someone's tongue was an activity best reserved for her romance novel heroines, never herself.

So when her legs start trembling around Cassian's head after not even a minute of calculated licking and openmouthed kissing—

"Oh— ah," Nesta stammers, hands fisted desperately in the bedsheets since she doesn't know where else to put them. The only thing stopping her from rubbing herself all over Cassian's face are his broad hands, pinning her firmly in place while he gives her what he wants.

His deep groan rumbles through her heated core, right down to her bloodstream. "There's no fucking way," he says against her folds, shaking his head. "Your fucking taste—"

At the same time his hands find hers, interlacing their fingers together, his lips wrap around her swollen clit, sucking hard.

A breathy whimper tears out of Nesta's throat as she's thrown into release, every last nerve in her body shot through with electric pleasure. Cassian keeps licking and toying at her folds, until she can feel the overstimulation all the way down to the arches of her feet. It's only then that she tries to squirm away, feeling too much at once.

Cassian relents, wiping his mouth with the back of a hand, but the dark glint in his eyes says he has a new objective. "Aren't you glad you waited?" he rasps as he stands.

In Nesta's haze, she feels a tug of fabric, and then her dress is being pulled over her head. She can't remember if the bra she's wearing is a particularly sexy one, but before she can lift her head to check, it's being flung to the other side of the room to join the rest of her clothes. She doesn't even shiver, but sits up so she can grab at Cassian, any part of him—

He tries to catch her wrists before she can tear his clothes off, but Nesta isn't having any more of his waiting. Her hands dive under the hem of his sweater, his bare skin burning hot to the touch with arousal, and then he's shirtless. Her eyes rapidly skim over his scattered tattoos, not sure which one she wants to take in first as she fumbles with his pants.

"I'm going to learn all of you by the end of the night," she threatens, her focus catching on a pattern of thick black lines inked onto his ribs.

Cassian huffs a laugh at that, but the sound turns strangled when Nesta slips her hand into his jeans, palming him through his boxer briefs. He's— larger than she expected, but whatever apprehension she has quickly turns into nailbiting anticipation. This is real, she thinks for the hundredth time that night.

"You're one to talk," Cassian breathes as he lets Nesta rub and squeeze at him. He catches her slim wrist in his large hand, pulling it away from his cock despite her whine of disappointment. "I've been wanting to learn about you from day one."

His eyes narrow on a spot beneath her left tit, and he reaches out to brush the small mole there. "How many more of these do you have hidden?"

"You'll have to find them."

Cassian's gaze darkens, and Nesta can nearly feel time slowing down around them as he regains control of the pace, the tempo. Leaning forward with predatory intent, he crowds her until her back is once again pressed into the mattress. She shudders with expectation, her legs unconsciously parting wider around him. He bends his head until his breath fans over that mole, his lips about to brush it—

At the last moment, he pulls away, standing off the bed to strip the rest of his clothes off. Nesta scrambles onto her elbows, stretching her neck to get a look at his erect cock as it springs out, a furious shade of red.

She swallows roughly at the sight.

Cassian doesn't bother hiding his satisfaction at the look on her face. "Maybe it's for the best that I didn't know how much you wanted me earlier. I don't think my ego could have handled it."

"I..." Nothing comes to her mind for a witty comeback. She must look struck stupid, because Cassian chuckles, "Okay, my ego definitely can't handle it." He tugs at her legs so her elbows collapse beneath her.

Before they can do anything else, he seems to remember: "Condom."

Nesta shakes her head rapidly, unwilling— or unable— to give up even a second of the time between them. "I'm not on birth control for nothing."

Technically, she's on birth control to regulate her periods, but this is definitely an unexpected benefit.

Cassian's answering grin is both cocky and reverent before he moves. And as he crawls over her body, it strikes Nesta how far she's come to reach this place— this haven of warmth and safety. Because the last time she was in this position, she couldn't have imagined ever being able to feel like this. She never thought she could find or earn the adoration that shines in Cassian's eyes before he buries his face in her neck.

There's a kindness in his touch that takes her breath away.

"I think I fell asleep on the couch earlier," he whispers into the crook of her neck. "I think I'm dreaming right now, and I don't know how far I can take this without waking up."

Before Nesta can show him how decidedly awake they both are, her entire body freezes up as his roaming hands near the soft flesh of her sides. Muscle memory makes her abdomen clench in defense, and Cassian stills instantly, pulling away to look her in the eyes.

No, no, no! This is not the time for her body to overreact, not when she's so close to everything she's been wanting, needing for weeks. And still, her hands fly to grasp Cassian's wrists at her sides.

"Nesta?" His calloused fingers scrape against her skin, so different from Tomas's hands when they touched her. She shuts her eyes and takes a breath, trying to force herself back to that heartdropping state of arousal.

"Just—give me a moment," she promises. Her body is awake in anticipation, not of a good fucking but of being pinched and bruised blue.

"Nesta," Cassian says again, lower now. There's a hint of warning in his voice, but it's not directed at her.

She peeks open her eyes. Cassian looks deadly serious above her, and he peels his hands away from her sides to place them on the mattress instead. "What's wrong."

She clambers for something to say that won't completely kill the mood. "I'm ticklish?"

He isn't buying it, scanning her face intently for the truth instead.

It's not that Nesta doesn't want to tell him. It's that she doesn't want to tell him now, when she's already learned what an orgasm from Cassian feels like and she's been promised another one.

No way in hell will her ex-boyfriend get in the way of her first hookup since she left him. The unjustness of it ignites a frustration in her that burns away any lingering anxiety.

She places her hands on Cassian's, bringing them firmly back to her sides. Softly, she tilts her head up to peck his lips and whisper against his mouth, "You still have time to learn everything about me. I'll teach you myself. But right now..."

Her hand snakes down his hard abdomen, finding his thick length and squeezing. "I want to be fucked."

This truth, Cassian believes.

"I'll hold you to that promise," he warns before he dips his head, taking a pink nipple into his mouth and suckling hard. Nesta's damn eyes roll back at the perfection of this scene, this sensation that goes beyond physical pleasure, as he releases her nipple with a pop. "I'll learn everything." Not just her body, but her secrets, her soul, the way she breathes and feels and thinks.

What a terrifying vulnerability, yet her core tightens at the thought of it.

Cassian slips his hands beneath Nesta's thighs, supporting her as his cock finally, finally settles between her legs, pressing insistently against her slick entrance.

Nesta can't describe the sound she makes when he finally pushes into her, the luxurious stretch snapping an emotional cord in her. In Cassian, too, from the way he has to bow his head for a moment, his face pressed into her chest as they both catch their breaths.

After a long moment, he begins to move inside her at a steady pace that nearly makes her keen. Nesta can only let him grind her into the mattress, let him explore and play and touch while she writhes beneath him, head spinning so fast she's on the verge of blacking out. She couldn't have predicted such— closeness.

Clenching tight enough around his cock to make him swear, Nesta attaches her lips to the line of a compass tattoo on Cassian's bicep, shutting her eyes against the intensity of his gaze.

"Can't believe I don't have to pretend not to be obsessed with these anymore," Cassian rasps, palming a full breast. He rolls his thumb over her stiff nipple in fascination.

"As if you ever hid it," Nesta grits out, shuddering beneath him. She swallows down the obscene sounds rising up her throat. Not that it matters— her desperate panting seems to be doing more for Cassian than loud moans ever could. Raw tension laces his body as he pumps harder into her.

His thrusts hit so close to a spot she didn't know existed before now, awakening a greedy new ache—

"Lift your hips for me, baby." As if he can read her mind. Nesta arches her hips off the bed on instinct, allowing Cassian the angle to slide deeper than she thought possible, to grind against that sensitive patch of skin and fill her completely.

Holy shit. She doesn't know if she says the words aloud or not, because her face is pressed into the sweat-dampened pillow, eyes fluttering rapidly as she withstands this new immense pleasure.

Cassian's low moan tells her he knows how she feels. She's so close.

"Look at me, Nesta," he demands.

Nesta shakes her head fiercely into the pillowcase, unwilling to meet his gaze when she's strung up this tight. She might explode if she even breathes wrong.

"Open your eyes," he orders more urgently this time. His hand finds her face, forcing her to turn to him. She gasps at the next thrust, her eyes flying open to meet Cassian's dark hazel ones. The way he's looking at her—

He rubs a thumb down her cheek. "Beautiful."

She isn't prepared for the intensity of the release that barrels through her. She isn't aware of the sounds she makes as she clenches repeatedly around Cassian, hands scrabbling for a way out of this neverending rapture. It's too much, more than she can handle, and she can't—

Cassian clutches Nesta like a lifeline, his hips picking up speed. Through the last ebbs of her climax, Nesta winds her fingers through his hair, bringing him down for a final kiss. She holds him tight as he spills inside her, groaning desperately into her mouth.

Later, when dopamine floods her system and her muscles turn numb with relaxation, Nesta will think that there's a word for how she's feeling right now. She won't know what it is, though.

***

Cassian can't help but be proud of himself for keeping his cool. For not coming within five seconds of getting Nesta in his arms and around his cock, but also for not blurting anything embarrassingly vulnerable during their first time together. Or their second and third times.

Nesta isn't great with vulnerability, even now. But he's watching her try to grow comfortable with it as she traces one of his tattoos, her naked body propped half on top of his.

"I usually hate tattoos," she murmurs softly, almost to herself. "I cringe every time Feyre gets a new one. But these are nice."

Cassian glances down to where her finger points at the elaborate phoenix tattoo on his pectoral. "What do you like about them?" he asks. With Nesta, there's always a reason.

"I like their placement." She trails that finger down his chest with studious focus. "I like the dark lines; it reminds me of my coloring books." Her finger stops on a Celtic knot on the side of his ribs. "Overall, very aesthetically pleasing."

He chuckles. "Thank you for the stellar review."

She glances up at him then, those blue-gray eyes even more arresting now than the first time he saw them. He's never understood how they can be the same color as Feyre's yet so different.

"I still can't believe you walked out in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner to be here," she whispers. "What will your friends say?"

Cassian’s arm tightens around her. He's still not sure of the answer to that question. His phone blew up with so many texts and calls on the drive here that at one point he just turned it off, but he'll still have to come up with some believable excuse for his behavior.

He tries to find an answer to Nesta's question.

"I’ve known most of those guys for fifteen years," he finally says, "and I’ve only had you for a couple of months. I wanted more time with you." It's the best reasoning he can provide right now.

“Maybe I should feel bad.” He stares up at the ceiling. “But I just can’t.”

Nesta hums in thought. "You must really like me."

Cassian swallows. "Yeah. I do."

"You have for a long time, according to your words." She rests her chin on the crook of his shoulder and looks up at him. "How long? Since I first moved in?"

He thinks back to that fateful night, Nesta standing rainsoaked in his foyer with wary eyes. A turning point in his life, yes, but there was a night before that.

"Do you remember our first meeting?"

The overpriced restaurant that Feyre chose to introduce her blood family to her chosen family. The dim lighting that glanced off the silver pins in Nesta's hair, and her solemn stare as she inspected Cassian and his friends in her detached way.

Her eyes narrow, but she nods.

"I noticed you before I even noticed Feyre or Rhys," Cassian says. "You just... demanded attention. You never gave it, though. I spent all night being louder than usual, sneaking looks at you, but I couldn't even get a second glance in return."

Nesta's mouth tightens. "And what then?"

"The night ended. I forgot about you and moved on." She was like a shooting star: fascinating and beautiful for the brief moment she passed through his life, but quickly dismissed afterward. That initial impression of Nesta faded so much over the years that when Cassian finally reunited with her in his cabin, he was shocked by the magnitude of her existence all over again.

Nesta stays quiet, thinking. "You did get my attention," she finally says.

Cassian's brows raise, but she continues, "I thought you were too loud, too absorbed in your own friends to ever be worth having a conversation with. But I was just being snooty and... jealous." She looks down at the planes of his brown skin. "If I wasn't busy being comfortable in my role as social outcast, I would have thought you were kind. You looked like you wouldn't mind being my friend— that's why I noticed you. But you weren't my friend, and you couldn't be, and that's why I made myself look down on you."

Her eyes glitter when they dart back up to him, and her hand starts absentmindedly tracing another tattoo. "I do that sometimes," she murmurs. "Build a whole relationship in my head with someone I've just met, and then get mad when it isn't reality."

Cassian pulls a strand of hair back from her face. "That's called wanting to make friends, Nes. It's just that that part is usually followed by, you know, actually making friends."

She pouts adorably. "That's the part I suck at."

He can't help it. He leans forward and kisses the little beauty mark at the corner of Nesta's mouth, the mark that nearly received more attention than her lips tonight. Memories of the rest of the moles scattered along Nesta's body flood Cassian: her shoulder blade, her ribs, below her ass cheek, and that damn spot on her thigh he's been eyeing since week one. He's tasted every single one of them several times by now.

"You finally did it," he says against her mouth. "You got me as your friend and more, and now you have all those guys from school, too. You can get whatever the hell you want when you aren't holding yourself back."

She rolls her eyes, but evidence of a smile pulls at her lips. "Save the motivational speeches for my therapist."

Another thing Cassian is eternally proud of: Nesta finding a professional she's comfortable with and having her first session coming up soon.

"And what do you want?" she asks before his thoughts can trail off.

He blinks up at her. "Hm?"

She shifts on top of him to face him better. "We're always talking about my feelings and wants and needs. I don't think I've ever learned about what you want."

What does he want? He opens his mouth, but doesn't know how to answer. Shit, he's never had to answer that question. He's never been asked it.

"Take your time," Nesta assures him after a moment of silence. She's not being sarcastic.

He inhales the scent of her hair, thinking.

"You know," he finally says, "I'm always talking with my friends, and I always leave the conversation feeling like I didn't say a thing that was worth anything. Nothing serious, nothing weighty, nothing thoughtful. And it's not a bad thing, technically, but sometimes I just want to have a real conversation with them. Like the ones I have with you."

He doesn't know when he and Nesta started having those types of conversations. Maybe they fell seamlessly into it: she would ask him how to interpret different tones over text, and he would ask her about whatever legal concept or romance novel she was currently obsessed with. The topic didn't have to be serious, as long as their words were. It was the flawless exchange of intelligence, ideas, and opinions that he wasn't even aware he craved.

"What else do you want?" she says.

To not be relegated to comedic relief all the time. To be chosen first.

He boops her nose. "You've ruined me. I have everything I want now."

Nesta sneers down at him. "God, you're predictable." She's about to push off his chest when he pulls her back in, rolling them over so they're on their sides.

He tucks her head under his chin. "Nesta?"

"Hm."

"We're not gonna backpedal after this, right?"

She sighs into the crook of his neck. "No. We like each other. You're my boyfriend now." She says it like she's telling him the time or the weather.

Into her hair, Cassian starts to smile, any lingering doubts at once assuaged.

Some things you just know instantly, like how Cassian knew the minute he met Mor that they would be friends for life, or how he knew Feyre wouldn't have any trouble fitting into his family. Like how he knows now that he loves Nesta, even if he can't tell her just yet. He'll just have to keep pretending he only likes her.

***

a/n: the tattoo artist that designed the new acotar covers has some sick work so a lot of cassian's tattoos are based off their art (but smaller) :)

taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn

#a favor #ncssianwrites #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian fic #nessian au

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bts-hyperfixation · 4 years ago

Text

Why Not Then? 18+

Here it is in all it s 4327 words.... This one kind of got away from me.

angst/fluff/smut

I hope you like it!

Warnings: unprotected sex

pic found here

Tonight’s the night. At least that’s what you were telling yourself. Senior prom. It’s now or never. Tonight is the night you are going to tell Jungkook how you really feel about him. He has to feel the same way, you are inseparable. There is no doubt in your mind that the only obstacle in the way is fear, not wanting to ruin the friendship you had worked so hard to build. The doorbell sounds through your house and you take a deep breath. For the hundredth time that day you look in the mirror. Curls frame your face, makeup done to perfection, and the seafoam A-line dress you had chosen made you feel like a queen. Your mother calls you downstairs, you can hear your father making polite conversation with your date as they wait for you. Another reason you are so sure Jungkook feels the same, he is your date. He could’ve had any other girl in school, but he asked you.

The moment you descend from the top of the stairs is like a movie. His goofy little bunny smile lights up his face when he sees you. You try as elegantly as possible to parade down the stairs, using one hand to lift the hemline of your dress, as the other glides along the bannister. You take your time. Eyeing him up as you go, the tuxedo was such a stark difference to his usual gym shorts. He was stunning. His short dark hair quaffed and gelled. Everything was going to go as planned tonight. You could just feel it.

“You look beautiful as ever” he laughs taking your hand and spinning you. You can’t help giggling.

“Not too bad yourself.” You pull on the lapels of his jacket. He bats you away a straightens himself back up just as the flash goes off on your mother’s camera. She arranges the two of you in to ten different poses before letting you leave. Jungkook had driven his beat-up convertible to pick you up. To anyone else that car would be an eyesore, but he loved it, and so did you. So many nights spent just talking and looking up at the stars, cuddled up under an old picnic blanket. To you it was a pumpkin carriage.

He opens your door for you and helps to fold your skirt so it wouldn’t rip in the limited space. He runs to the other side and jumps over the door and into his seat. Your parents wave you off as you pull away. It’s a short drive to the school. 10 minutes at most. He parks like a pro, doing that thing that guys do when they reverse into a space. The twisting just so you can see more of their neck and watch how their arms flex around the back of your headrest. You start to climb out of the seat when suddenly he is in front of you, hand extended to help you. It’s hard not to laugh at how hard he is trying to be a proper gentleman tonight.

“Come on Y/N-ah, the night of our dreams awaits.” He quotes the prom theme. The unbelievably cringy and cliched ‘night of our dreams’. Walking through the doors, it was still blatantly obvious you were in the school gym, but the prom committee at least tried their best. Tacky streamers in blues and silvers, star themed props, a solar system themed photo booth. Its clear they had to use some of the previous year’s decorations, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The butterflies were building in your stomach. Anxious and excited about where your confession could take you.

All of your other friends are already here, dancing to the catchy pop music blaring over the sound system. The path to them is crowded with other sweating high-schoolers, so Jungkook decides just the two of you should go and take photos. He pulls you towards the photo booths, lining up with the other groups and couples waiting their turns. It hasn’t escaped your notice that he is still holding on to your hand. Tight.

“Don’t you want to go dance with the others?” you gesture towards those in the middle of the floor, laughing as one of the boys loses his balance mimicking a slut drop.

“No, I want to take some stupid pictures with my best friend and date for the evening.” He winks at you, a move that should come off as light -hearted and cringy. Instead it feels like he has shot you in the heart. The response you come back with shocks you.

“Just because you’re in love with me.” You accompany the remark by sticking your tongue out at him. He grabs your chin and makes you look him directly in the eyes. Your heart beats double time. It looks like he is going to kiss you. Before his face gets close enough to yours, he ruins it.

“You wish Y/N.” he laughs it off, but you see it as your chance. Now or never, tonight’s the night…

“Actually…” and then it’s your turn for pictures. You don’t get a chance to get the rest of the sentence out. Whether he heard or not you don’t know but now he is excitedly rummaging around a box of props. He pulls out a silver feather boa and oversized-blue sunglasses for you, finding a matching set for himself. It’s a strip of four photos. One smile, one where he jabs you in the ribs, one with silly faces, and one where you kiss him… only on the cheek. Not enough to throw yourself in the deep end, just enough to gauge his reaction.

His ears turn bright red and he stammers about going to find the others as you exit the booth. It has to be a good sign if you make him flustered, right? The next hour is spent ruining all the work that had gone into this evening. Hair stuck to sweaty foreheads, makeup creasing around the eyes, lipstick wiped on the backs of hands. When the live band comes onto play, you and your friends head outside for air. It’s nice feeling the wind, a slight chill in the late hour. Most of your friends can’t hack it for too long, choosing to return to the dance floor in time for the party tracks to come on. Eventually it leaves just you and him. You hear the opening chords of the cha cha slide start up inside and decide now is a good a time as ever, more than eager to avoid the choreographed dance portion of the evening.

“Can I talk to you?” you reach for his hand. He turns to look at you properly and sees the serious look on your face, his brows furrowing to match.

“What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing’s wrong, just come with me.” He lets you drag him away from the gym. You head toward the school greenhouse, no one is going to come looking for you there.

“This is weirdly private Y/N, are you sure everything is okay?” he feels your forehead as if he is worried you have suddenly fallen ill.

“I’ve been trying to tell you this for the longest time and I can’t not anymore, it’s time.” He opens his mouth to speak again, the confusion evident in his eyes. You raise a finger to his lip to stop him. “I’m in love with you.” The words escape more like vomit than a statement. It feels so freeing to get the words out. You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. Finally admitting how you feel is an amazing feeling. Until you take in the way he is looking at you. You might as well have grown a second head. Your about to speak again when he turns on his heel and makes a run for it.

He walks briskly away from the concealed shed and back inside of the school. You don’t know if you should laugh or cry. Of all the responses you thought you’d get; abandonment was not one of them. It takes you a moment to snap out of the shock he had left you in. you follow the trail he took back into the main hall. Spotting him even through the crowd, people parted as he passed them. He beelines straight through the gym and though the doors into the main corridors. When you make it into the hallway, he is at the other end about to disappear around a corner.

“Stop running away from me!” you yell a little too loud, other lingering students stop and stare at you on their ways back from the bathroom. Unfortunately, you can’t bring yourself to care. Jungkook faulters for a moment before continuing. “Jeon Jungkook! I said stop.” You kick off your heels and run in the direction he disappeared. You nearly run full force into his chest as you turn the corner not expecting him to be there.

“Why?” his voice is small and harsh, not the usual bubbly tone he always has for you.

“Why what?” your more than a little annoyed that you had to chase him only for him to ask you a question.

“Why do you love me?” it’s not the question you thought he’d ask. Why now? How long? What’s your ring size? Those were the questions you had been prepared for. Not why do you love him. you thought that was obvious. “Seriously, why do you think your in love with me?” that stung ‘think’ he doesn’t believe you. Thinks its some silly girly crush you have.

“I love you because you’re you. You’re my best friend, you make me happy when no one else does, my heart hurts when I don’t see you for more than a day.” You reach for his hands, trying your best to convey your sincerity. He flinches in response. Pulls way back out of your reach.

“I don’t feel the same way.” Now it really does feel like someone has stabbed you. Run you straight through with a sword. Your stomach twists so hard you might throw up. This wasn’t an option. In all the ways you had imagine your prom night going, this hadn’t crossed your mind. You taste the tears at the corners of your lips before you realise your crying. “You can’t just spring something like this on someone Y/N! we were having such a great night, why did you have to do this.” He is not only rejecting you, he is blaming you for having feelings. It’s all too much.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. The lump in your throat makes it hard for you to speak at all. “I just thought…”

“You thought wrong.” His response is so fast, cutting off every chance you might’ve had to put a band aid over the situation. Maybe held it together until the night was over. Now there is no chance of that.

“I’m sorry.” You try again but he just rolls his eyes. Instead of making you sadder, this reaction makes you angry. How dare he. How dare he just dismiss you like you never meant anything to him. Like you weren’t even a friend.

“I should take you home.” He gestures towards a nearby exit. He doesn’t reach for your hand to guide you like he would’ve any other point in the night. You shake you head and walk back in the direction you came, picking up your shoes as you passed them. You walked straight out of the front gates and all the way home. That was the last conversation you’d have with Jungkook for a long time.

Graduation came and went. He tried to talk to you a few times in person, but you just walked away. Still seething at the way he reacted. He texted you constantly, left voicemails until you blocked his number. Your other friends never found out exactly what happened. They pieced bits together from what the two of you were able to talk about but never the full picture. When he started coming to your house to apologise you decided it was time to move on and headed to college early.

You were in town for a wedding. One of your high school friends had managed to meet the love of their life while away at college and asked you to come. It was a nice excuse to visit your parents. You didn’t come home as often as you would’ve liked. The town felt a little haunted after you finished school, so you tried hard to avoid it. Especially at times like this.

You were standing in your childhood bedroom, dressed to the nines once more. This time knowing that Jungkook was not going to be waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. But he might be at the wedding. Getting over the boy you had never really been with was more of a challenge than you could’ve ever imagined. It took you almost the entire first year away to truly get some peace on the situation. You even started to understand his point of view. He was just an 18-year-old boy trying to enjoy one of the last nights he’d get with his friends. The you had gone and dumped a whole load of new information on him. It wasn’t fair of you, just as much as it wasn’t fair of him. Truthfully, a little part of you would always wonder what if. What if he had felt the same way, would people be coming home for your wedding instead? Or would it have fizzled out long distance?

You are pulled out of your thoughts by your phone signalling the arrival of your uber. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed you clutch and headed out, eerily reminiscent of that night.

Five years later.

The wedding is at a fancy hotel on the other side of town. You are escorted by the ushers into the main room. you quickly scan the area for him. You don’t even know if he is coming but you don’t want to be caught off guard. Coming up empty you thank the groom’s men and find a seat in the back of the bride’s section where you can survey the room.

It feels ridiculous being so on guard around the person that used to mean the world to you. Your eyes meet as soon as he walks through the door. He seems genuinely surprised to see you there. He tries a weak smile and lifts his hand to wave in your direction, but you put your head down, choosing to focus on the intricacies of the program instead. 4 hymns and a sermon. For a nonchurch wedding it sure seemed religious. You roll your eyes and settle in for a long one. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he skulks away. Sitting a few rows in front of you. You allow yourself the luxury of looking at him now that he can’t look back. His hair is a lot longer now. The suit he has chosen definitely fits a lot better than his prom tux. His shoulders are nicely outlined, strong and broad. It’s a nice visual.

The wedding seems to happen around you. Old friends come over to catch up. Vows are exchanged everyone is shuffled into a banquet hall. All the while you are watching Jungkook out of the corner of your eye. Seeing him go through the motions just as you are. Three tables away. Clearly your friend has been smart enough to think that through when creating two singles tables in her seating plan.

The night wore on. Speeches were made, drinks were spilt. More than one groom’s man ripped his trousers on the dance floor. You were getting some air in the gardens when he found you.

“You look beautiful as ever.” His voice is soft, but it still makes you jump, not expecting him to approach you at all.

“Thanks.” You move to brush passed him, eager to put some space between you. Very Much not wanting to exchange awkward pleasantries with the man that, after today, you were sure still owned your heart. He steps back into your path, and makes you meet his eyes. It hurts all over again. Every feeling you had that night rushes back, every bit of progress you’d made since then erased in a matter of seconds.

“Can we talk? Please?” he sounds almost as desperate to talk to you as you are to leave.

“Talk about what Jungkook? It’s been years, just let it lie.”

“Exactly it’s been years and I know how I feel about you now, know how I felt about you then… please just let me explain myself.” He pleads with you. You stand firm, half of you longing to hear him out, the other half wanting to run the way he had.

“Why should I let you talk now? You didn’t let me talk then.” You can hear the venom dripping in your tone but can’t bring yourself to adjust your voice.

“I was a kid back then Y/N, and I was scared I was going to lose you” he chuckles darkly “I guess I did that anyway.” He grabs for your hand, this time you get to pull away from him. None of this is fair, where was this person when you needed him five years ago? He sighs at your reaction. “Look I was terrified okay? I didn’t know how I felt about you. I just knew everything was changing and I didn’t want us to change. But I know who I am and what I want now, and that’s you.” He closes the distance you had put between you in one stride. His mouth heavy on yours trying to prove a point.

You can’t bring yourself to pull away this time. Instead melting into his embrace. Letting yourself indulge in the boy that was all you ever wanted.

“Why now? Why not then?” you ask when he finally pulls away.

“Because you wouldn’t speak to me until now. I wanted to tell you the day after, but you wouldn’t talk to me. And you were right to do so. I was such an asshole to you about it. Let me make it up to you.” He peppers your face with kisses.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have cut you off like that. I was scared too.” He holds you tight cradling you into his chest. You stand there for a while. Taking in everything about him that you’d missed. The smell of fresh cotton, the warmth he always radiated. All of it.

“I have a room upstairs if you want to go. Maybe we could watch a movie?” you pull away to look straight up at him. he must have realised what it sounded like then because his mouth formed an o and his eyes widened. “Wait no, I really did mean a movie.” He tries to backtrack.

“What if you didn’t mean a movie?” as soon as your meaning sinks in, he is sprinting away. This time with you in tow, struggling to keep up. Eventually he decides you are slowing him down. He lifts you bridal style into the nearest elevator. He refuses to put you down, even though you are forced into a standstill. As soon as the door dings, he is through them. Balancing you and opening the door isn’t even a challenge as he bursts through into the luxurious hotel room. He throws you unceremoniously on to the bed before discarding his jacket on the floor. You watch, propped up on your elbows, as he loosens his tie and kicks off his shoes before helping you with yours. He runs his hand up the back of your calf, rolling down the stockings you’d worn in an effort to avoid tights.

His hair falls into his eyes as he meets your gaze, and you can’t take the teasing anymore. Grabbing him by the collar, you pull him on top of you. Your lips finding his, unwilling to let go until your lungs hurt. He has one arm by your head, supporting some of his weight while the other trails down your waist. He drags his fingertips along your thigh as he moves your hemline. With your skirt out of the way his hand moves in between you bodies finding its way to your clothed pussy.

“I’ve wanted to taste you for so long… can I?” he kisses down your neck as he asks, leaving you barely able to respond. You just about manage to squeak out your approval. He wastes no time, biting into the soft flesh of your thighs as he wraps his hands around your panties. They are disposed of quickly, likely ruined by the slick you can feel pooling between your legs. He licks along your slit, barely delving between your folds. The tip of his tongue flicking at your clit briefly before he goes back and starts the motion again. Each time he gets close to your clit he brushes it slightly, so you shiver with anticipation, but he waits until you are practically panting to go any further. His right hand joins his talented tongue. Two fingers slipping inside of you. The slight stretch burns so good. His mouth moves up, biting gingerly at the sensitive nub he had been teasing for so long. Your thighs clamp involuntarily around his head. He wraps his free arm around your leg, driving you apart to give him better access. His tongue comes back into play drawing little shapes on your clit as he sucks down. He curls his fingers in just the right way to have you coming undone underneath him. Biting your lips to keep yourself quiet. He swats at your thigh until your teeth let go, forcing your moans out into the open. When you stop writhing, he lets your leg go and wipes his face with the back of his hand.

Sitting back on his feet he won’t stop looking at you weird. Its an expression you can’t ever remember him making before, and that worries you.

“What? Why are you looking at me? Were the noises too weird? I tried to keep them in…” he pulls you up to him by the wrists and kisses you before answering.

“I love you… please shut up. Your moans are the sexiest thing I think I have ever heard. Now I just really want to get you out of the rest of your clothes. He reaches around to unzip your dress, fumbling for a moment until you take pity and take it off yourself. His shirt is already unbuttoned by the time the fabric is over your head. You help him to push the sleeves off his arms, taking great pleasure in rubbing your hands across his toned arms. You marvel at the amount of muscle he has gained for a moment before he drags you back to him, falling onto his back so you straddle him.

You make quick work of the clothing on his lower half. Perhaps a little too keen to see what you were working with. He does not disappoint. His cock is above average in length, immediately evident as it slaps against his stomach when released from it’s confines. You shuffle back for a moment to admire the full image. His hair falls haphazardly around his head, lips swollen from the kisses. Perfectly chiselled abs leading into an arrow to what you can only describe as the motherlode. Everything about this moment was worth the wait. But you refused to wait any longer. You stroke your hand softly along his shaft, pumping a few times before moving to sit yourself on top. You sink down slowly at first, having to take extra precaution to not hurt yourself. His eyes pinch shut and his nose crinkles as a little whimper escapes his mouth. You slap his chest.

“If I’m not allowed to stay quiet, neither are you.” He nods enthusiastically and opens one eye just as you reach the base of his dick.

“Fuck.” His voice low and breathy. Sounds more like he just ran a marathon than had a girl sit on him. As you feel more comfortable, you start to wriggle your hips, not thrusting away, just enough friction to tease him like he did you. You don’t get away with it for quite as long though. His hands are on your hips and you are powerless to stop him as he makes you bounce, meeting each thrust with one of his own. Soon it’s not enough for him. Too worked up to relinquish any control. He flips you quickly, now on your knees. He barely gives you time to orientate yourself before driving into you from behind. Fast, sloppy thrusts used to reach his own end. He snakes one arm underneath you. Skilled fingers finding your clit, playing with you until you tighten around him. making it difficult for him to keep going.

Soon he spills over, cumming deep inside of you. Holding onto you with all he has. Instead of pulling out, he falls over with you in his arms. Cuddling into the back of you as he comes down. You wiggle experimentally on his softening cock, earning you a growl. You giggle at his oversensitivity and try to get free as painlessly as possible.

“Don’t go” he is whiny when he is tired, it’s so endearing. He makes a grabby hand at you as you clamber of the side of the bed

“I’m only going to the bathroom; I’ll be right back.” You kiss him on the cheek as you round the bed.

“Good because I never want to be without you, ever again.” he admits as you walk into the bathroom.

February request - open

Masterlist

#purplearmynet #bts fic #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #jjk smut #jungkook smut #jeongkook smut #jeongguk smut #feb 21 #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #kpop smut #kpop fic #jeon jungkook x y/n #100

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yoontopia · 4 years ago

Text

sobremesa | kth

pairing: kim taehyung x (f) reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers(?). tiny amounts of smut in the form of grinding, heavy makeout sessions in a car, mostly fluff, microscopic amounts of angst HAPPY BIRTHDAY TAE!!!!

rating: M

word count: 9.1k

sobremesa: a spanish word for that time spent after a meal, hanging out with family or friends, enjoying each others’ company

summary: you’ve known Kim Taehyung practically all your life – your parents are best friends and that inevitably leads to the two of you being forced to hang out at family gatherings – being the same age and all. But you don’t really know Kim Taehyung beyond cramped bedrooms, family potlucks, and annual New Year’s Eve parties. He’s never been a part of your picture and you’ve never been a part of his. You know Kim Taehyung in snapshots, periodic glimpses into his life over shared meals that will never overlap with yours outside these little moments. Or so you think.

-2006-

“This is my boy – Taehyung – he’s twelve too!” Mr. Kim announces, with a wide smile on his face. You stare curiously at the little boy hiding behind his father. He’s got a tuft of dark hair and he looks over at you curiously, like you’re a specimen at a museum. Your dad pats you on your back and one look at his face tells you that you’re meant to entertain this Taehyung kid.

“Oh, um,” you say, stepping forward. “We can just hang out in my room, I guess.”

“We’ll call you when dinner’s ready,” your mom tells you, smiling encouragingly. You nod and beckon Kim Taehyung upstairs. He follows you wordlessly and you usher him into your bedroom. He looks around, that same curious expression on his face before making himself comfortable on the beanbag chair you keep in your room.

“So, do you wanna like—watch a movie or something?” You don’t have a lot of experience with boys. Taehyung is small for his age though, and you can look at him in the eye if he stands up. He’s a lot smaller than the boys you’re used to at school, and so you find yourself more comfortable with him. He shrugs in response and you heave out your beloved laptop your dad had so kindly let you use for the night. Taehyung’s eyes flicker towards your bookshelf and his expression visibly brightens.

“You like Cardcaptor Sakura?” he asks, and you hear his voice for the first time. You look at him in surprise. No boy at your school likes Cardcaptor Sakura, but you love the series and your parents bought you a couple of volumes for your birthday.

“Yeah! It’s really cute. Uhm… do you wanna watch that instead? I have the DVD set.” Taehyung nods, looking far more enthusiastic than before and the two of you binge the entire first season, sitting shoulder to shoulder on your double bed.

-2007-

You don’t know anyone here. It’s somebody’s birthday, but they’re an adult and you don’t really care. These kids are unfamiliar and rowdy and honestly all you want to do is go home and read Harry Potter until you fall asleep. You’d hang out with your parents, but they’d ushered you to go play with the other kids. Looking through the various bedrooms in this ridiculously large house you hear voices coming from behind a shut door.

Knocking before opening it slowly, you peek in only to find Kim Taehyung with his arm around some kid’s neck. They’re on the floor, wrestling. Boys, you sigh mentally. Taehyung looks up, hair in his eyes, a sheen of sweat covering him.

“My phone—get my phone!” He’s yelling your name and you’re surprised he even remembers you. You’d only hung out a handful of times after your first, fateful meeting after all. You glance down and pick up the small black device the other boy is trying to reach for. Taehyung lets the other kid go and he’s gasping for air as you hand the phone back to its rightful owner.

“I’m Jungkook,” the boy introduces, voice high. “Junghyun’s younger brother,” You have no idea who Junghyun is, but you nod and introduce yourself anyway. “Are you Tae’s age?” Your eyes travel to Taehyung, who’s scrolling on his phone now.

“Yeah,” he answers for you, and you’re surprised to hear how his voice has deepened. “She’s my age. Close the door, will you? We’re watching Claymore and Kook’s mom will have a stroke if she finds out—he’s only ten.” You shut the door behind you cautiously. At least he hadn’t demanded you leave.

Feeling weirdly accepted and elated, you sit down to join the boys.

-2008-

Jungkook becomes a part of your small family-friends group. None of you even go to the same schools, but you see each other occasionally when your parents want to spend time with their friends. You like Jungkook, even though he’s younger. He’s friendly and bubbly and likes manga as much as you do. You’re still scared of his older brother though, but Junghyun is old (three whole years older than you!) and he’s allowed to stay home alone when his parents leave so he never comes anyway. Rumor has it that he even has a girlfriend.

You’re making it through life like any middle-schooler would. You have two close friends at school that you do everything with and it’s the year your dad presents you with your first phone. It’s got a full keyboard and you can text Jiyeon and Solhee whenever you want. You spend hours into the night talking about Jung Hoseok, who’s a ninth grader, and how cool he is. You have the tiniest crush on Hoseok – he’s the dance team captain, and he always smiles at you in the hallways even though he doesn’t know you. Hoseok smiles at everyone, it’s just how amazing he is. You’re too shy to talk to him though, envying the girls he speaks to on the daily. You think you and Hoseok would be good friends if you were braver.

-2009-

“You’re going to a French immersion high school? Seriously?” You don’t know if you’re more impressed or exasperated. Maybe both. Taehyung nods and accepts the cup of tea you offer him. You can hear your parents heartily belting out to some 80’s pop song in the basement – it seems the karaoke session is going well.

“Figured its never too late to learn,” he shrugs, taking a sip of the drink and wincing because its piping hot. His voice has deepened now that the two of you are fourteen, sounding like it’s dipped in honey. “Plus, all my friends are going there, and I don’t wanna be that guy who knows no one at his high school on the first day.” You try to laugh along, but it comes out all awkward—you don’t want to admit that that’s going to be you at your new school. Taehyung eyes you suspiciously.

“But of course,” he continues, in that same airy tone. “I think it’d be cool to start over somewhere where no one knows you. A clean slate.” You smile privately at his tact.

“It’s nerve-wracking though. What if I don’t make friends?” you sound small as you voice out the one fear you’ve been too scared to admit. Taehyung hums and sips his tea again.

“You will,” he says easily. “But if you don’t you always have me and Jungkook. We’re practically forced to hang out with you.”

You throw your wet teabag at him. He laughs, the sound rich and deep and you find your mind cleared of your anxiety.

-2010-

“Ay here comes the Frenchie,” Jungkook wolf-whistles and you turn around to see Taehyung making his way toward you. “Are you fluent yet?”

“No, but I can tell you to fuck off in more than one language now,” Taehyung grins, giving you a one-armed hug in greeting. He smells like vanilla and clean laundry – a refreshing contrast from the boys at school that drown in Old Spice. You want to bury your nose in his sweatshirt.

“Wow, school fees well spent,” Jungkook nods sagely. “I can’t believe I’m the only middle-schooler left.” Taehyung is taking his seat in the chair next to you, your hand still grasped in his, much larger and warmer one. Taehyung has always been physical – not just with you, but with everyone. You’re all at a restaurant this time, celebrating the fact that Junghyun not only got into his dream university, but managed to survive without flunking his first semester. You don’t know why you had to squeeze into a dress for this occasion, but alright. You barely even know Junghyun – he doesn’t fraternize with his kid brother’s best friends. “Oy, here’s Jimin.” The two of you look up to see another boy making his way towards you. “My mom’s best friend’s kid,” Jungkook whispers to you two, rather like he’s divulging the nation’s greatest secrets.

Jimin sits down next to Jungkook and you mutter polite hellos at each other. As it turns out, he’s the same age as you and Taehyung.

“So, this is the kid’s end of the table, huh?” Taehyung murmurs in your ear and you laugh.

“Don’t complain – would you rather sit next to my dad and have him clap you on the back hard every minute?” Taehyung winces at that, clearly having multiple war flashbacks. Jimin stares at you two.

“So how do you all know each other?” has asks. Taehyung blinks.

“Oh me? I’ve known her—since when—? We were like twelve,” you nod. Has it really been that long? You’re sixteen now. “And I met Jungkook not long after, I think.”

“The three musketeers,” Jungkook cheers, raising his glass as if its not full of just orange juice. Jimin nods. Taehyung rolls his eyes

As the dinner progresses, you find out you like Jimin too. He’s friendly and before you know it, you have each other on Facebook. Jungkook proclaims that all of you need a way to keep in touch and that’s how you find yourself in a group chat with three noisy boys.

-2011-

“Uno motherfucker!” Jungkook dramatically throws down his second-last card onto the pile. You groan. How is this boy so ridiculously good at literally every game?

“Not so fast, Jeon,” Taehyung is next to you, wearing pajama bottoms with ducklings on them. Throwing down his only wild card, he’s changing the color of cards up. You laugh delightedly because thank-you-Tae-you-lifesaver. He gives you a hearty fist bump. Jimin is on your other side, and as always, the man is more action than words because he quietly puts down a +4 that has Jungkook screaming into his pillow.

You’re all cooped up in your bedroom. Taehyung’s parents have already told him he could stay over, and he’s promptly changed into his sleeping clothes. It isn’t a rare occurrence for him to crash in your guest bedroom every time your parents hang out late into the night. Jimin and Jungkook are still in their jeans getting more and more uncomfortable by the hour. It’s past midnight and the parents downstairs have no intention of ending the party any time soon.

“You should’ve just stayed over too,” Taehyung says, watching Jungkook trying to change his sitting position for the third time in the last twenty minutes.

“I live literally down the block,” Jungkook snaps. It’s true – Jungkook’s family had moved onto your street only last year. “I’ll sleep in my own bed thanks.”

“Besides, is Jooyoung okay with you staying over at another girl’s house?” Jimin mutters, picking up a card and frowning. “Won’t she have a fit?”

“Who?” you and Jungkook ask at the same time.

“His girlfriend,” Jimin giggles next to you, and Jungkook is practically yodeling. Taehyung’s ears go slightly red. You look at him in surprise.

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” you tell him and his ears, if possible, go even redder.

“He’s been with her for a whole month,” Jimin proclaims proudly and you’re looking at Taehyung again because wow—that seems serious.

You have no expertise in dating. There’s a cute boy in your English class called Choi Seungcheol that you like to look at. He’s got a nice smile and really long eyelashes over eyes that look like they hold galaxies in them. One time, he lent you his dictionary and you almost melted into a puddle of goo. But Seungcheol runs with the popular kids, even though he’s always been sweet to you, and you’re still somewhat of a recluse. All of a sudden, Taehyung seems really grown up and faraway.

“She already knows,” Taehyung says testily, and gestures wildly at you, “Plus it’s not like the two of us are even remotely close enough for her to care too much.”

You find you’ve suddenly lost all interest in the card game.

-2012-

“Can’t believe you’re leaving us,” Jungkook pouts as he stares at you and Taehyung. “Can’t believe I only have Jimin from now on.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Jimin quips. It’s your graduation party – the third graduation party you’ve attended in the last two weeks – Taehyung had his first, then Jimin, and now you. You’ve chosen a university that’s three hours away. Jimin chose to attend college in town.

Taehyung, surprising you all, is moving a whopping six hours away, across the country. The art program he’s chosen is super elite and you’d all had a potluck at his house with your families when he’d gotten accepted. You sip on your wine, still getting used to the taste of alcohol. You turned eighteen only last month, but Jimin and Taehyung are still minors, and are both sporting matching cups of sparkling apple juice.

“We’ll be back for the holidays,” you tell Jungkook. “I can even drive back on some weekends!”

“Yeah, but when our families hang out, I’ll be the only one there,” Jungkook continues, looking genuinely upset. “Gonna just stay home from now on.”

“What about me?” Jimin asks indignantly. “I’m still here!”

“You have, like, a billion friends,” Jungkook huffs. “And a girlfriend.”

“Good point.” Jimin agrees. You and Taehyung laugh.

“Well, we still have all summer,” you say. “The four of us should find some time to hang out before I move at the end of August.” Jimin nods at that, reaching forward to eat the chips off the plate in front of him.

The four of you look at each other. Your lives really don’t overlap outside the confines of your bedroom and while Jungkook is upset, you know he’s got his own horde of friends back at school. He’s on the football team, and in the multimedia club. Your best friend’s little sister goes to his school and you’ve heard through her that he’s basically the school’s heartthrob. A little hard for you to believe though – Jungkook will always be that small child who Taehyung tackled to the ground for trying to steal his phone back when you were twelve.

You look around your room. You only have around ninety days left in these four walls, in this particular life, before all of you move into the next chapter.

-2013-

You’re shut up in a bathroom stall at your dorm, tears threatening to spill. Your first year as an engineering undergraduate is almost over, but your mother’s voice over the phone has opened all the flood gates you’d been so carefully keeping close these past few months.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you’re bumbling, and your mother can hardly make sense of you. You know that it’s probably coming as a huge surprise to them. You’ve spent so long pretending you’ve been fine all year that your family hasn’t had a clue how rough things really had been for you. “I want to drop out, mom, my grades are so bad, I’m so close to flunking out.”

Your mother is comforting you over the phone, but you continue to sob, months and months of tears and anxiety finally getting their chance to flow freely. You don’t care if your dormmates hear you – they were never really your friends anyway.

Weeks later, when your parents have picked you up, and have driven you back home, you know you’ll never go back to that place. You lie in your bed staring up at the ceiling, feeling void of any emotion. You’d always done fairly well in school so the significant drop in your grades at university had taken a toll on your mental health. The sun shines outside, the first signs of summer peeking through, but you can’t bring yourself to push open your curtains. You feel like a failure. You are a failure.

At some point during the day, Taehyung comes into your room, knocking quietly. He doesn’t speak, and you haven’t seen him for a whole year. Contact was few and far between and seeing Jimin and Tae do so well in their respective programs had made you put up a front with them too. He probably had no idea that anything was ever wrong.

Even if he had, you tell yourself, there was nothing he would really do. You find you barely know Taehyung, are only obligated to spend time with him because your parents are friends with his folks. But he’s here, in your room now, and you can’t hear Mr. Kim’s booming voice downstairs. You selfishly wonder if he came to see you by himself. Only for you, and not because of his parents.

He quietly lies down next to you, and the two of you lie there, shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the ceiling.

He stays like that until you finally fall asleep.

-2014-

You scream when you open the mail and Jimin jumps next to you, spilling milk all over the kitchen island.

“I got in!” you scream and Jimin blinks owlishly up at you. “Chim, I got in!”

“Oh my god that’s amazing!” Now Jimin is screaming, grabbing you out of joy and pulling you in. The two of you are jumping up and down in your kitchen and your parents are here wondering what the ruckus is. You’re merely shoving the letter towards them, too overjoyed to speak.

After taking the summer off, and pulling out of your old university, you’d applied to the college in your town – the same one Jimin attends. You figured you were better off in a program that genuinely excites you and come September, you and Jimin would be attending the same school.

“We gotta party,” your dad exclaims, a big grin on his face. You know your parents had partially blamed themselves for everything that had happened last year. For maybe forcing you towards a program you weren’t really interested in, only because the employment opportunities were higher, and you had the grades to get in. You’re pleased to see them so proud and happy for you. You’re in a better place now, have gotten the support you needed to help you get through that rough patch. Last year feels like a fever dream, like it belongs to someone else, someone that’s not you.

Your dad is calling the usual crowd up to celebrate, and you can’t wait to see Jungkook and Junghyun. It’s been months since you saw them last and you know Jungkook is a senior and is swamped with college admissions and his football games.

Taehyung doesn’t come home this year – working at an internship somewhere on the other end of the country that’s been keeping him busy. You don’t hear from him much at all.

-2015-

You gratefully accept the glass of wine from Jimin and glance over at the giant Christmas tree in his living room. The Parks have decorated it up to the nines, a real step-up from last year.

“Your ugly sweater is so not ugly,” Jimin groans from next to you, and you look down. It’s a simple grey sweater with a giant ornament on it, the baubles are three-dimensional.

“It was the only one I had,” you sigh, leaning back into his couch. “Where is everyone?”

“Jungkook is spending Christmas at his girlfriend’s,” Jimin tells you and you roll your eyes. “But he says he’ll see us for New Years. Tae’s family just arrived actually – he’s in the kitchen saying hello to everyone.”

“Bet all the moms flocked to him,” you mutter. Taehyung is the group’s golden boy – the success story. He’d secured himself a fancy internship and was pretty much guaranteed a job straight out of university when he graduated in a couple years. Jimin nods sleepily next to you. You cozy up next to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

Taehyung arrives in the living room then, his eyes travelling from the giant Christmas tree to the two of you folded onto the couch. You wonder if you’ve had too much wine already because you’re definitely imagining the strange look that crosses his face when he sees Jimin lean into you. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him in person – Instagram pictures really don’t do him justice. For some reason, Jimin quickly pulls away from your embrace.

He’s grown taller, and his hair is dyed a soft honey blonde falling into his eyes, a piece tucked behind one ear. He’s wearing a sweater that’s literally the same color as the Grinch but he manages to effortlessly pull it off. Taehyung has always been pretty, you tell yourself, but somehow, he’s managed to get even prettier. He’s half-tucked his ugly sweater into black slacks and looks more like a runway model than someone you’ve known since you were twelve.

He fist-bumps Jimin before collapsing into the couch on your other side.

“What’s the plan tonight Park?” he asks, taking a sip of his wine.

“I brought my poker kit,” Jimin says over your head. “Thought we could play.”

“Poker,” you sigh amusedly. “When only yesterday Jungkook was beating our asses at Uno.” Jimin laughs with his whole body and you giggle sleepily next to him.

“And, how are you?” It takes you a while to notice that Taehyung is talking to you. You straighten up, letting go of Jimin

“M’fine,” you murmur. Taehyung hums. There’s a strange sort of silence that befalls you. You and Taehyung never had a chatty relationship, but it was never like this either. Taehyung feels more and more like a stranger these days. You know facts about his childhood that you’re sure no one else does – the time he broke his arm falling off a bike you had dared him to get on, or the time he’d accidentally eaten a cookie with hazelnuts in it despite being allergic to them – but you don’t know this Taehyung. You don’t know the first thing about him. And it makes you sad.

The two of you make small talk – the weather, Taehyung’s internship, your finals – but it just doesn’t feel the same.

-2016-

It’s really been a whole year since you’ve seen any of these people – except Jimin, you see his ass on campus every damn day. The music is in full swing and your parents are laughing at something Taehyung’s mom is saying.

You’re sitting in a chair next to Jungkook, fresh off his first semester of university. His hair is longer, he’s inked up his right arm and smells like expensive cologne. Despite that, he’s still the lovable goofball you’ve known practically all your life. He lets you tease him about his ink, good-naturedly pulling at your cheek. He towers over you now, has for a few years.

Taehyung sits directly across from you. His hair is back to black, curling and long. He’s wearing thick black-framed glasses today, complaining about leaving his contacts back at university. Jimin isn’t here, having made plans with his dancer friends. It feels like every year, the only constant at these end-of-the-year parties, is you. The only one who makes a conscious effort to attend, who doesn’t treat these family gatherings like back-up plans.

“Jieun said she wants to meet you,” Jungkook is saying. He’s been dating this girl for six months now. “She’s gone home for the holidays, obviously, but maybe in the New Year. When do you go back Tae?”

“The twelfth,” Taehyung answers, mouth full of mashed potato.

“That’s later than usual,” you say in surprise. Taehyung shrugs.

“Didn’t come home for the summer, so figured I’d stay for winter break longer,” he answers, and you nod. You’re still on the “kids” end of the table, despite all of you now being full-grown adults. Some things really never change.

“Y’know we really should hang out,” Jungkook is saying. “I haven’t seen Jimin in two years – isn’t that crazy? Hey, remember when our parents would hang out and drag us with them. At least that meant we saw each other constantly. Now that we have our own lives, I don’t even go when our families hang out.”

You ruffle Jungkook’s hair and he gives you an adoring smile.

“I miss you guys,” he pouts, and something warm floods through you.

“I miss you guys too,” you answer, a little melancholy, a little sad, and Jungkook gives you a dopey grin, completely clueless. But Taehyung doesn’t return your smile, only surveying you quietly through his glasses.

-2017-

Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung said they weren’t going to attend this year’s annual New Year’s bash. You can’t say you aren’t crestfallen at the news. It’s clear they all have lives outside their family. Taehyung and Jimin have graduated already. Taehyung doesn’t have enough time off to come home, and Jimin has plans with some guy he’s been seeing lately. Jungkook is going home with Jieun this year to meet her family.

You make plans with your friends from college, and the four of you end up at a bar. It’s fun – you sing karaoke and drink copious amounts of alcohol. You even makeout with strangers.

But somewhere deep down, you know you rather be sitting at the kids end of the table, stuffing your face with food.

-2018-

Taehyung hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you walked into his house. You’re wearing a dress and some heels because Jimin insisted that the four of you dress up for the occasion, considering you hadn’t been able to get together last year. It’s been a while since the gang was back in town at the same time, and you’d just graduated and secured a decent job right away. Jimin claimed it was a cause to celebrate.

The four of you are at the usual family party this winter, because where else would you be?

Taehyung is very obviously drunk. He isn’t rowdy like Jimin or Jungkook, but you can tell. He sways faintly to the music and his eyes are dark.

At the end of the night Jimin goes home to his boyfriend, and Jungkook to his girlfriend, leaving you and Taehyung to clean up the messes they leave behind. Your parents have long gone home, no longer caring if you stay a little longer, or stay over. Taehyung’s family is practically your family.

You eye him subtly as you’re putting away the board games – his hands are in the pockets of his burgundy trousers. A cream dress shirt is tucked into his pants. As always, he looks good. Taehyung suddenly turns to look at you and you feel your face go warm at his stare.

Before you know it, he’s reaching over to kiss you, large hand cupping your face, head tilting so he can slot himself better against your lips. Your hand grasps at the front of his shirt as you pull him closer and you don’t hesitate to intertwine your free hands.

He wordlessly pulls you towards his bedroom in the basement, careful not to wake his parents. He pushes you down on his bed before climbing on top of you to continue where you’d left off in the living room.

That night, you fall asleep in his arms, naked and satisfied.

-2019-

Kim Seokjin whispers in a terrible joke in your ear, making you giggle. He’s your date for the night – but the two of you aren’t actually dating. Seokjin was a friend from college, albeit your senior, but you’d asked him to accompany you to this year’s New Year’s party and by some miracle he’d said yes.

You know Jin doesn’t think about you in that way – you’re at most like a baby sister to him – but he plays his part and holds your hand and sits next to you and brings you refills whenever he sees your drink is running low. A part of you thinks he knows what the deal is, if the soft way he looks at you is any indication. You owe Jin a big one.

You didn’t want to be the only one in the group without a date. Jimin has brought Min Yoongi, his boyfriend of two years and Jieun is here with Jungkook.

And then there’s the pretty girl on Taehyung’s arm.

You bite your lip. After spending that one night together last year, you and Taehyung had woken up with smiles on your faces. It had been a happy moment, until you’d had to sneak out of his house without his parents noticing. He’d laughed, kissed you on the lips and you’d left. When you’d seen him next, you’d been with Jimin, Jungkook, and all your families. The two of you had shared secret smiles but hadn’t got a moment to yourselves and before you knew it, Taehyung had had to head back across the country – back to his life without you in it.

You hadn’t even gotten a chance to discuss whatever had happened between you, and you didn’t think it would be appropriate to discuss over the phone. You’d carried on talking to him like normal, assuming that you’d discuss this whenever he came back home next, and he never brought it up either. You hadn’t realized then that Taehyung only ever came home once a year – for Christmas.

Your heart sinks now, watching as he leans in quietly to talk to her over the loud bass of whatever rap beat Yoongi has chosen. You hadn’t told anyone, not even your college friends, about what had happened. You feel used – that whatever the two of you had, was maybe just a drunken one-night stand. But it hadn’t felt like that to you. It had felt… right. Like the conclusion to something that had been building up for many years now. But looking back, maybe it’s just you that thinks that.

Taehyung has never shown any interest in you in that manner, and you’ve known him for years. He’s dated in that time – even had relationships (Jooyoung from high school comes to mind, and you rack your brain trying to think of other serious girlfriends, but you only come up with girls he’s mentioned once or twice and then never again). Jimin already lives with Yoongi and Jungkook and Jieun are discussing moving in together. In your little group, only you and Taehyung have no strings when it comes to relationships.

You’ve dated too – of course – but never seriously. Your longest relationship lasted three months.

“Is he the one?” Seokjin leans over to ask you in a low voice. You turn to look at him nestled comfortably on the couch next to you, long limbs spread out. “The one you like?”

“Like...huh?” you take a large gulp of your wine. “I’ve never thought about him that way.”

“Then pray tell me why your face has longing written all over it?” Seokjin is astute.

“Thanks for coming today,” you say instead. Jin smiles lazily, long lashes casting shadows on his elegant cheekbones.

“I’ll even peck you on the lips at midnight if you want me to,” he says cheekily, and you slap his face away laughing.

“Aren’t you two adorable!” Jimin collapses on the couch next to Jin and offers him a friendly fist bump. Jimin knows Jin isn’t your boyfriend but is smart enough to not say anything.

“Are we?” Jin grins, throwing his arm around your neck to pull you towards him, your cheeks smushing together. “You hear that babe?”

“Oof,” you groan against him and he lets go of you to stand up. Motioning towards the bathroom, he flashes one of his infamous grins before making his way through the living room. Jimin slides over towards you, neatly taking your drink from your hand before taking a sip.

“Where’s Yoongi?”

“His parents called, he’s talking to them out on the deck,” Jimin looks at you. You look at him and raise your eyebrows. “You okay?”

“What makes you think I’m not?”

“I dunno, you always get this look on your face when you’re not,” he hums, sipping your wine again. “How long do you think I’ve known you?” You roll your eyes. You’re eyeing Taehyung again. He came to the party late and hadn’t as much as introduced his lady friend to you. He hadn’t even looked at you. Was this how your friendship with Taehyung was going to end?

“Who’s the girl?” you can’t help but ask, jutting your chin in the direction of the pair. A knowing look crosses Jimin’s features.

“Yoona something,” he says. “They work together, I think. Her flight home got cancelled so Tae brought her back here.” Jimin looks at you again. “They’re not dating – if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Fucking, then.”

“Well, probably,” Jimin laughs. “It’s Taehyung,” Of course. It’s Taehyung. You huff sarcastically. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t.”

“You do,” You groan. What is with your friends today. “When will you admit it to yourself?”

“Admit what?”

Jimin gives out a short laugh and stands up.

“You’re both so painfully alike, I’m going to get frustrated,” he mutters, half under his breath. You tilt your head curiously at his wording, but he doesn’t elaborate. “One is horrible with making a move and the other too dense to realize what’s staring at them in their face.” You watch Jimin head off, muttering to himself and shake your head.

When Jin returns with another bad joke about the toilet and pinches your cheek adoringly, taking up his spot next to you on the couch, you’re far too busy laughing to notice the way Taehyung’s eyes flash across the room.

-The Present-

“Tae’s coming home this year, isn’t he?” you mother casually asks. You’re in the middle of putting the cakes in the oven and you pause.

“Is he? I haven’t asked,” you answer, schooling your voice carefully.

“His mother mentioned that he doesn’t seem too happy lately,” you mom continues on from the other end of the kitchen. “They want him to move back here, or somewhere closer to here.”

“Good luck with that,” you snort. There’s three feet of snow that arrived last night and you’re not looking forward to shoveling it all by yourself. You haven’t seen Taehyung properly since the two of you had… fooled around some two years ago. Whatever idea you’d entertained about the two of you after that, it had all just been clearly in your head. Taehyung was barely home long enough for you to hang out as a group and if the rumors amongst the parents were anything to go by, you weren’t surprised he wanted to avoid the gossiping small town feel of this place.

Frankly, you’re dreading seeing Taehyung this year. This year’s party is definitely more exclusive than last year’s. It’ll just be the four of you this year. Like the old days. And Jieun and Yoongi, but you’ve known those two for years now.

“He’s such a good-looking boy,” Oh god, your mother is still talking. “I’m surprised he hasn’t thought about settling down yet. Of course, how can he think about settling down without a stable career first – freelance photography was it?”

“Mom, it’s none of our business,” you mutter.

“Oh, I know,” she says quickly. “But I’d always thought he’d go places, you know? He did so well at one of the country’s best universities, got that amazing job right after. And now what? He quit it after all this time and that Jimin who only did community college is earning twice the amount Tae is!”

“Mom!” you snap. “Let. It. Go.” Your mother stares at you in disbelief, closing her mouth quickly, and thankfully shutting up. “I’m gonna go shovel the driveway,” you mutter, taking your apron off, and shoving it onto its usual hook by the pantry.

You’re just opening up the garage and grabbing the big purple shovel when you see Jungkook floundering through the snow towards your house.

“When did you get home?” You ask, forgetting about your mother for a second.

“Two days ago—look,” Jungkook’s face is serious. “We need to throw Taehyung a totally bitchin’ birthday party.”

“What?! Why?” You begin shoveling while Jungkook stands there. You’ve never thrown Taehyung a party before – usually that goes hand in hand with the annual New Year’s Eve bash and the two are celebrated together, even though Tae’s birthday is the day before.

“Because he’s been weird ever since he came home – he never says anything, but I know, alright?”

“What? He’s back?” You stop shoveling and stare at the younger man.

“He didn’t tell you?” Jungkook asks, after hesitating. You bite your lip. You’ve always been the first to know whenever Taehyung decides to visit. “Is everything okay?” You sigh.

“Yes… I don’t know… probably not,” you groan. Jungkook blinks down at you, utterly clueless. “We…fooled around, alright?”

“When?!” Jungkook’s voice has gone up three octaves. “Oh, holy fuck.”

“Two years ago,” you hiss, motioning him to pipe down. “After that party at his house. We never spoke about it and I just assumed he wanted an easy fuck.”

“You’re an idiot,” Jungkook says and you wonder at his wording. “A blind idiot.”

“What?” you’re so confused. Jimin had mumbled something similar last year. Jungkook shakes his head, bits of snow falling off his beanie.

“Aside from that, I think the dude is just going through an overall rough time,” he says. “And no, it’s not because you two fucked. You in?”

“What—yeah fine,” you give in.

“Cool – then my house on the 30th. Bring your own booze. Wear something cute but comfortable.”

“Who else is coming?” You yell after him, watching Jungkook shuffling back down the street. He turns to look at you questioningly.

“It’s just us,” he says, surprise evident in his voice. “Who else?”

“Right.” You say, sighing inwardly.

That night, you run straight into Taehyung outside Jungkook’s door.

“Uh,” you say, wincing at yourself for sounding so horribly awkward. Taehyung stands in front of you, readying himself to knock on. You’d hoped to avoid him for a little bit longer but here you were, running into him right as you arrive. You grip your bottle of Merlot tightly. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says back, raising an eyebrow at you. Taehyung is intimidating – has always been. You vaguely remember a time when he didn’t scare you, when you were both young and Taehyung was this small scrawny kid with big eyes and a mop of hair. “How’ve you been?” He towers over you now, all broad shoulders and long legs.

“Good,” you clear your throat. “You?” A ghost of a smile flits across his features.

“I’m sure you’ve already heard,” he says, almost bitterly.

“That you quit your fancy job? Yeah, I heard.” Maybe it’s your offhanded tone that throws him off but he’s gawking down at you before chuckling to himself. “What?”

“Nothing,” his face breaks into a bigger smile. “Should’ve known that you of all people wouldn’t give a shit if I quit my job or not,” You’re rushing to correct him that that was not how you intended to come off but he’s grinning, raising a hand to stop you. “No, it’s a good thing. I’m sick of people pitying me for something that was so obviously the correct decision.”

“Pity, huh?” you grin back at that. “Do they give you the sad head-tilt too?” You tilt your head mockingly to the side to demonstrate.

“Oh my god yes,” he snorts. “I’ve been getting those all week.”

“Welcome to the world of failures Kim,” you grin, holding out your hand in an honorary handshake. “We hate it here, but at least the expectations are now at a rock bottom. You can only go up from here.” Taehyung is about to reach for your hand when the door opens.

“Can you two quit flirting out here and come in?” Jungkook is indignant, holding a bottle of beer in each hand. Taehyung gives you a look you can’t quite decipher before heading in. You follow in after him, setting your wine down on Jungkook’s kitchen island. His apartment is small – only one bedroom – but it’s so Jungkook that you smile.

You hug Jieun as she comes out of their shared bedroom before moving on to join Jimin in the kitchen. Jieun is hugging Taehyung, wishing him a Happy Birthday. You watch them as you open your wine and reach for a glass from one of Jungkook’s cabinets.

“Not drinking tonight?” you ask Jimin. He’s dyed his hair blonde and it curls slightly. You think you like this look on him.

“I drove here,” he says easily. “What about you?”

“I’ll figure it out,” you grin. Taehyung comes up to dump the cheesecake you hadn’t noticed he’d been holding earlier on the counter. “Want me to put that in the fridge?” You address him.

“Yes please,”

“Not drinking tonight Tae?” Jimin throws your question at the dark-haired boy, as you shove the cake into Jungkook’s fridge. Taehyung’s eyes quickly glance at you before he speaks up

“I drove here,” he mutters and Jimin snorts.

“It’s your birthday party and you’re gonna stay stone cold sober? That’s sad man. Not to mention you brought your own cake,” he says, chin resting on his hand as he leans on the counter. Taehyung shrugs.

“Where’s Yoongi?” you ask and Jimin motions towards the living room where Jungkook and Yoongi are deeply immersed in what looks like Super Smash Bros Brawl. Judging by the way Yoongi is yelling, you assume he’s already tipsy. Taehyung comes up behind the counter to stand next to you to observe their game. You’re only faintly wary of his presence next to you as you sip on your drink. You don’t even realize Jimin has left the two of you to yourselves to go join Yoongi and Jungkook.

“Why’d you quit?” you ask, still staring at the TV. If Taehyung is surprised at your question, he doesn’t show it. “Your job, I mean.”

“It’s not what I went to school for,” he answers, hands in his pockets. “It became less about the art and more about kissing the asses of big corporations so they would fund us. I took the job because it paid well but at what cost?”

“Yeah, I understand,” you say softly. Taehyung looks at you.

“I know you do,” He says after a while, and your heart blooms at the honest faith in his voice. “My parents are disappointed. They don’t say it out loud, but I know they are. They think I’m going through something when the truth is that I know exactly what I want to do.”

“And that is?” you’re looking at him now and things suddenly fall into place. It’s as though the last few years never happened, that there was never a distance between the two of you. It reminds you of a different time – a time when you and Taehyung would tell each other everything even if you didn’t see him every day.

“Photography,” he answers. “My own studio. Maybe even sell my work – I don’t know. Just me, and art.” You smile.

“That sounds nice,” you say. “You know, Jungkook threw this party thinking you’re going through a quarter-life crisis,” Taehyung snorts at that and you can’t help but giggle along. “I wanted to tell him that he was crazy, but I didn’t have the heart to.” Taehyung is looking at you, questions evident on his face. “Call me crazy, I don’t know, but there has never been a day where you’ve been lost in your life. You’ve always known what you want, and you’ve made sure you get it,” You look down at your wine. The words unlike me are at the tip of your tongue but you don’t voice them. You know what—who you want, but you’re a coward.

You weren’t lying. Taehyung had always been ambitious – a go-getter. If he wanted you, he would’ve made it clear. The realization is heart-breaking.

Taehyung doesn’t reply to your statement, and only hums in response.

The night gets rowdier after that – Jungkook and Yoongi are a deadly combination when drunk and you’ve made it through your bottle of wine by yourself so you’re not doing too badly either.

Jimin and Yoongi leave first – Jimin basically dragging the older boy out. You’re scrolling through the train schedule when you notice Taehyung come up to you.

“I’ll drop you off,” he says. “You’re on the way to my parents house anyway.” You can only nod at that before he’s helping you stand up. The two of you bid a goodbye to Jieun (Jungkook has long since been put to bed and she’s collecting the myriad of beer bottles for recycling), and before you know it, you’re comfortably seated in Taehyung’s car.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to your place,” he says at last, sounding only slightly guilty. You laugh and tell him your address and watch as he plugs it into the car’s GPS system. You had moved out only last year, finally in a place to be able to afford. The two of you drive in silence, with you watching Taehyung.

He’s wearing a dark button down, tucked into equally dark jeans, hair falling over his forehead. Rings adorn his fingers that are gripping the steering wheel, and you swallow as you eye his thighs in those pants.

The wine was a bad idea.

“Something on my face?” he asks lightly, eyes still on the road. You start in your seat. The wine has lowered your inhibitions considerably.

“No, just admiring how pretty you are,” you say and Taehyung chokes on air. “Did you know you’re pretty? You always have been,”

“Is that so?” There’s a wry smile on Taehyung’s face. You prop your elbow up on his window, chin resting in your hand as you look outside.

“Yeah, since the fucking beginning,” you snort. “Even when you were scrawny and twelve, you were this pretty little thing. Next to you I looked like a drowned rat.”

Taehyung scoffs, running one hand through his hair, pushing it back.

“The day you wake up and realize your self-worth,” he mutters. “You’re far too intelligent and beautiful to belittle yourself like this,” You freeze and turn to look at him. “What? I’m telling you a truth. Stop undermining yourself – you’ve done it all your life.”

“Do you want me to pull up photos from that one trip our families took in 2010? Your puberty kicked in and turned you into a teenage model. My puberty kicked in and I looked like Phineas and Ferb’s long lost sibling.”

“Chat shit all you want, but Jungkook and I spent that trip sneaking glances of you in that bathing suit.”

“You two did what?”

“And I told Jungkook to back off,” Taehyung says it so easily. He pulls up in front of your building and turns off the car. The two of you sit there in silence. “Do you know how hard it is for me to control myself around you?”

You’re dimly aware that Taehyung hasn’t had a single sip of alcohol tonight – that he’s completely himself.

“Then why are you controlling yourself?” you whisper. Taehyung gives you another one of his wry smiles, this one rather sad.

“Because you’ve never seen me the way I’ve seen you,” he says, voice just as hushed. “And for a while, I didn’t mind. It was just a little crush – and I only saw you once or twice in a year so how could it mean anything? I had an entire life outside of you that you weren’t even a part of. So how could any of this be real?” He pauses, and you wait for him to continue.

“But then… That Night happened,” and you know what he’s talking about. “And I thought ‘finally’ and once I’d had a taste, I wanted to keep coming back for more.” He looks up at you now, eyes distant. “And because you never brought it up again, I just thought that it didn’t mean anything—”

“Wait,” you interrupt him, heart racing so fast you can hear it thrum through your ears. “I thought you wanted nothing more.”

“Why would you ever think that?” he whispers. “When I never heard from you, I tried to move on—I had to move on, y’know? And this year I told myself that when I saw you, I’d be content with being your friend. I know I’ve been distant these past few years, but I needed that time to pick myself up—it was too hard to see you and know nothing could come of it.”

“Wait wait wait,” you wave your hands in front of your face, eyes tightly shut. “B-but you never mentioned that night again! I-I just assumed it was a one-night thing!” Taehyung blinks.

“A guy would have to be completely blind to only want you for one night,” he says quietly, and your heart soars. He’s reaching over for you and you shyly intertwine your fingers with his.

“You’re going to have to spell it out for me,” you whisper, tracing patterns on the back of his hand with your thumb. “Because I’m stupid and I won’t believe it until I’ve heard it—”

But Taehyung is reaching over to your seat and pressing his lips to yours. You’ve missed this taste and you reciprocate almost instantly. He tastes like the strawberries that were topped on his birthday cake and you lean into the kiss, sighing in pleasure.

Before you know it, he’s undoing your seatbelt and pulling you over to his side. It’s uncomfortable and you almost ram your head against the rear-view mirror, but eventually you find yourself comfortably straddling his lap, back to the steering wheel. Taehyung’s large hands span the width of your back as he holds you in place.

“I think I like you,” he says. You smile down at him, running a hand along his cheekbone, jaw, finally resting it on his shoulder.

“I think I like you too,” you say back. You lean down to capture his lips in yours one more time and this time he doesn’t hesitate in sliding his tongue into your mouth. You grasp at his shirt on his shoulders, while his hands travel down to rest on your thighs where they travel under the flowy dress you’re wearing, moving over your thighs and finally resting on your ass. You whimper into the kiss and Taehyung doesn’t miss the opportunity to explore more of your mouth.

It’s when you let yourself sit down on his lap completely that you feel it – the hardness in his pants. You gasp before straightening up, but he pushes you back down onto his crotch. You pull away from the kiss, lips swollen.

“T-Tae!” you’re gripping his shirt almost painfully right and he smirks up at you.

“See what you do to me?” he whispers. “We’ve barely done anything except swap spit and I’m already so hard it hurts.” Your ears go warm at his dirty words and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. You squirm on top of him and he groans in pleasure. “Any more of you moving that cute little ass on top of me and I’m going to cream my pants right here and right now.”

His lips latch onto your exposed collarbone where the strap of your dress has slid off and he sucks a bruise there. Your hips are swirling on top of him of their own volition and Taehyung has to throw back his head to let out a deep moan of pleasure. You stare at him in wonder – he looks so beautiful like this, dark hair clinging to his forehead, eyes blown out, lips swollen – and at your complete mercy. You kiss up his neck, biting his earlobe, before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“I’m soaked,” you say, blushing. Your hand reaches down to tease your clit and you whimper before bringing your slick fingers up to show him. “See?”

Like a man starved, Taehyung is wordlessly reaching over to take your fingers into his mouth, and you watch in awe as his tongue swirls around them, licking up your juices instantly. His gaze doesn’t leave you for even a second and you’re so mesmerized. When you kiss him again, you taste yourself on him.

“You’re gonna have to stop here,” he puts a hand on your thigh to halt your ministrations. “I’ll seriously cream my pants.”

“I’m okay with that,” you mutter, leaning in to kiss him again, but he pulls back, a sly smile on his face.

“No, I’d much rather cream your pussy,” his grin is so wolfish that you feel a new wave of juices flow through you.

“Lucky for us we’re at my place though isn’t it,” you smile against his mouth. He laughs, a low, comforting sound before opening the door. You climb off him and out onto the sidewalk and straighten your dress. Taehyung gets off after you, hair mussed (thanks to you), and shirt half unbuttoned (also thanks to you). He reaches for your hand, which you take with a smile. This time, there is no hesitation, no hidden meaning.

-Sometime in the (not-so) distant future-

“Will you hurry up?” You hiss at Jungkook, but he’s too busy brushing his hair to pay any attention to you. “We’re so gonna be late!”

“You’re trampling on my mojo,” Jungkook tells you, straightening his tie and staring at himself in the mirror. Taehyung is next to you, tapping his foot in impatience.

“Okay, Jeon, that’s enough, you are not going to be late for your own wedding.” He says, face impassive and Jungkook sighs.

“Fine! Fine! I’ll be right out – you two go take your positions. Tae – you got the rings?” Taehyung rolls his eyes and pats his front coat pocket pointedly. Jungkook grins, face guilty and Taehyung is opening his mouth, probably to tell Jungkook off once and for all.

You laugh, knowing this is your cue to interrupt the fight before it actually happens, and pull Taehyung away from his best friend and push him out of Jungkook’s dressing room.

“Let’s go – if he’s late that’s on him but I don’t want us to be late either and you’re in the wedding you need to be up there.” You push Taehyung towards the main church towards the altar.

“God,” Taehyung is grumbling. “Promise me, our day won’t be so anxiety inducing.”

“How can it be when you’re such a micromanager,” you smile. “I expect our day to run like a German train schedule.” Taehyung rolls his eyes and glances at a dainty ring on your left hand. He does that often, as if to reassure himself that this is the reality, that you’re here and present and beside him. It makes you unbearably fond. Because even now, years later, Kim Taehyung still can’t believe he has you.

“Honestly, we could do it at city hall and I wouldn’t mind,” Taehyung hums. “Without all these clowns present.”

“Fine,” you play along. “Wanna go this weekend?” You’re not expecting the raised eyebrow he gives you, or the coy answer that follows – but it does make your heart race in a way only Kim Taehyung has ever been capable of.

#kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #kim taehyung #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung #tae #bts v #bts #bts fic

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fatiguing-thoughts · 4 years ago

Text

“Natural” - Chapter Three - Embry Call x Reader

Honesty

I let Embry drive to the secret spot. I felt it was easier than listening to him attempting to navigate. Also because “you can’t drive with your eyes closed” and I had to have my eyes closed or it’s not a surprise anymore.

Oh how he is still the giant goof I fell in love with as a child, a preteen, and a teen. Embry Call was the love of my life for as long as I can remember.

Embry started to blast our shared playlist on my radio. The car ride quickly turned into us belting out our favorite songs together. A dream come true if you ask me, I just wish I could see his beautiful face singing.

“Can I open my eyes yet?” I asked, turning the music down.

“In a few minutes, we’re almost there, bean.” He rubs a small circle onto the back of my hand with his thumb.

I felt the heat rush to my cheeks, and I tried to stop the giggle from leaving my mouth-- I felt myself smiling anyway.

A few minutes pass, and I finally feel the car park.

“You can open your eyes now.”

I open my eyes and am met with an unfamiliar treeline. We aren’t parked in a designated parking lot; there aren’t even any signs.

“Do you know where we are?” I ask him, surprised at how isolated this place seems.

“Of course. I’ve been here a lot.”

“Is this where you kill me?” I laugh.

“Oh yeah, you caught me, bean.” He rolls his eyes.

“Wait, Em. Quil and Jake said there’s been a lot of bear attacks. Is it safe in here?” I ask in a worried tone.

“Bean, I would never let anything happen to you. A bear is not on my list of concerns.” He puts his hand on my lower back, continuing to walk us into the woods.

“Okay, Em. I know you got huge and weirdly strong and everything, but, and no offense, I don’t think you could take a bear down single handedly.” I look at him with raised eyebrows.

“Oh you’ve gotta stop doubting me. It’s safe here, though. I’ve never seen any bears here.” He smirks, leaning closer into me.

“Okayyyyy there tough guy.” I chuckle, following his lead.

We press forward, walking to the mysterious place.

“It’s about a fifteen minute walk from here, not too bad.” He shrugs.

“Sounds fair.”

After about another ten minutes and then some, Embry tells me I have to close my eyes so the surprise isn’t ruined.

“Em, I can’t hike with my eyes closed.” I laugh.

“Get on my back.” He offers.

“No, you absolutely cannot carry me the rest of the way. You’ll die.” Eyes widening out of my skull.

“No, don’t be ridiculous. Either get on my back or I’m picking you up, bean.” He grins.

“Em, I just-”

My words were cut off from the quick swooping motion of Embry picking me up. He picked me up so effortlessly, leaving me surprised.

“Okay, now close your eyes. We’re getting really close.”

“Em, how did you do that?” I ask, eyes now closed.

“It’s quite simple, really. I used my arms and I-”

“Oh hush, you know that’s not what I meant.”

His laughter was music to my ears. Hell, his voice was heavenly enough to put me into a slumber. I feel so weird, thinking so intensely about him. He’d probably think I’m absolutely nuts. Though, he seemed to watch every movement I’ve made since we met up, and hangs onto every word I say.

I rested my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It soothed me, it almost put me to sleep.

“You can open your eyes again.” He says as he gently puts me down on the ground.

“Holy shit, Em.” I take in the surroundings around me.

“You like it?” He asks, like an excited child.

“Like it? I love it.” I tell him.

I walk deeper into the clearing. It was surrounded by pine trees and a small river running through the end of it.

“I thought you would. You always loved this kinda stuff when we were younger.”

I turn around smiling at him, thrilled to see how much he valued me back then.

“I did, I still do. I haven’t changed too much. I’m still (Y/N). And you’re still Embry.” I smile at him.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He awkwardly pulls his lips tight, pursing them together.

“Em, you’re the same Embry I’ve known my whole life.” I walk over, grabbing his hands and looking up into those deep chocolate eyes.

“(Y/N), you really feel that way? You think I’m the same?” He asks with unsure eyes peering into mine.

“Of course. Just a lot taller, warmer, and bulkier. Other than that, you’re the same soul I’ve known.”

“Oh, bean. I missed you so much. Can I tell you something?”

“Of course, anything.”

“Remember when we kissed before you left?”

“I could never forget it.”

“There isn’t a day where I don’t regret not doing that sooner. Doing it more. I wish that you didn’t go. I wish we weren’t apart for so long. I just wish I told you that I loved you before you left. Or even after, I wish I told you before today.”

My breath hitched, and I couldn’t feel anything in my body anymore. I was in shock. My whole life I was in love with Embry, and now he’s telling me it was mutual? I always felt it wasn’t one sided, but I never thought I could be so lucky.

“Em, I wish I knew. I’ve been in love with you since day one. I think about that kiss all the time. I’m so happy you felt the same way, I just wish either of us had the balls to say something. Especially when I was gone. Being so far from you for so long, it hurt. Being back with you, it feels so natural-- it feels so right. Seeing you again, I expected it to feel something… but what I felt when I saw you. I don’t understand what happened Em. It’s like everything around us stopped.” I try my best to explain my feelings.

“I know, bean. I know. I have a lot of explaining to do today. That happened to me, too; a little more on my end. You being here is the best gift I could’ve asked for. I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you Embry.”

“Can I kiss you?” His lip quivered slightly.

“Please.” I looked up at him with pleading eyes.

He bent down, one hand grabbing my waist, and his other holding the back of my neck. I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling the warmth radiate off of him.

The kiss was hungry, his soft warm lips intoxicated every fiber of my being. Chills ran up my spine, leaving me weak in the knees. This kiss felt like a thousand suns exploding, I never wanted this kiss to end.

Embry pulled away a minute or so after the kiss started. Leaning his forehead on mine.

“Wow.” I breathed out. “I know.”

“I wanna do that more often, Em.”

“We can, soon. I don’t want to rush either of us into anything, (Y/N).”

“I understand. Thank you, Em.” I hug his waist tightly.

“Of course, bean. I just want you to know everything before you decide anything.”

“Embry, you have to tell me what’s going on. Did you kill someone?”

“No, (Y/N). I never killed a person.”

“Okay, so we’ll watch the sunset on the beach, and you can tell me all about it.”

“Alright, let’s go back to the car and head over to La Push.”

I nod and he grabs my hand, leading us back to the car.

“How do you know your way around here so well?” I ask.

“I’ve been here a lot.” He looks down at me, flashing me the signature Embry Call grin.

Jesus, that face makes me weak in the knees, every time. Video chatting with him did it no justice.

Our walk to the car was one of silence. It was a lot of longing stares at the other, listening to the sounds of nature. Enjoying the peace that Embry has never failed to bring me.

We get to the car and I drive us to La Push, enjoying another car ride with the company of Embry.

Getting out of the car, I grab the blanket I kept in my trunk and head down to the beach.

Embry rolls out the blanket for us to sit on. I plop down and he follows, sitting close to me.

“So, I just want you to know that I would never lie to you. Everything I’m about to tell you is the truth, and I can prove it. Okay?” He looks at me, dead serious eyes.

“Alright, Em. You’re making me a little nervous.” I chuckle.

“No, no. I would never hurt you. Just understand that before I tell you the rest.”

I nod, worry starting to kick in.

Hurt me? Why would I think he would hurt me?

“Okay, do you remember those stories that Old Quil and Billy used to tell us? Like when we were kids?” He asks me.

“Yeah. I loved those stories. I thought they were great.” I smiled.

“I know, I remember you loved them. But, (Y/N), they’re true. The shifters are real. It’s all real. The cold ones, too. All of it.”

“Em..”

“No, please. I can prove it. I just want you to be prepared.” He looks at me with pleading eyes.

“Embry, on this hypothetical that it’s all real-- what are you trying to tell me?” I ask.

“I’m a shifter. Jake, Quil, Paul, all of us. Seth, Leah, Jared, and Sam. We all can shift. We protect the land, the people from the cold ones. I promise I can show you.”

“Okay. Show me, Em.” I look him dead in the eyes.

“Well, I have to show you in the woods. These are tribal secrets, nobody is allowed to know. Only those in the pack, and their imprints, of course.”

“Imprints? I don’t remember that part of the story.” I admit honestly.

“Yeah Billy never talked about that much, he probably didn’t think we wanted to hear about it as kids.” He laughs a little.

He stands up, reaching his hand out for me to take. I look up at his face, grab his hand and follow him into the woods.

We walk a few minutes into the woods, out of sight from the beach.

“Okay, just stand back for a minute, and just remember-- I promise I won’t hurt you.”

“I trust you, Em.” I smile at him.

Though I didn’t necessarily believe him, a part of me felt this was true. I never knew Embry to be crazy, and after all these stories came from somewhere. I just… I never expected it to be anything more than a legend.

He smiles at me, nodding. He strips down to just his boxers, causing me to put my hand out, covering the lower half of his body from my sight.

And that’s when his body began steaming. His body shook intensely.

Before I knew it-- there was an enormous grey wolf in front of me. Standing on all fours, it was over six feet tall. This was a massive wolf. I looked down at his paws, easily bigger than my head. His head, bigger than anything I could’ve ever imagined.

“Em?”

The wolf nods, letting out a small whine. Walking over to me with his head low, showing me that there’s nothing to be afraid of.

“Wow. You’re beautiful.”

I reach out my hand, running my fingers through the soft fur on his head. Scratching behind the ears.

“So this was the secret? You’re the big bad wolf?” I ask, chuckling at my own stupid jokes.

Embry took his head, nudging me on the shoulder as a way to tell me to shut up.

“So, everyone I grew up with gets to turn into a giant wolf superhero, and all I get to do is lick my elbow? Something doesn’t seem fair here.” I laugh.

Embry’s massive head lays itself on my shoulder, weighing it down enough to almost start hurting my neck.

“So this is what you were nervous about? That I would think of you differently? You’ve become one of my favorite stories growing up as a kid. You aren’t a monster, Em. I think you’re amazing.” I smile at him.

He takes a step back, looking my in the eyes once more before grabbing his clothes off the forest floor. He runs behind some brush, I heard some bones cracking before I heard Embry shuffling in the bushes. A moment later he returns in front of me.

“Thank you, (Y/N). I was just afraid of how you’d take this. I didn’t want you to be afraid of me, or want nothing to do with me. I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“It is. I honestly still feel a little whacked out, but I meant what I said, Em. You are such a light in my life, and you always have been. Em, you scared me before. I didn’t know what to expect but… this is workable. My best friends are shifters, they’re incredible. This is magical, Em.” I smile at him.

He walks over and hugs me tight.

“Thank you for accepting me, bean.” He whispers into the top of my hair.

“Of course, Embry. But why are you so worried about the way I would react?” I ask.

“Well, I’ve been hiding it from my mom for over a year, I just want her to stay out of the drama it brings. I was afraid of hiding it from you, too. But I also didn’t want to lie, I wanted us to stay comfortable. But, it’s a dangerous world. I wanted you to stay being my little bean.” He smiles softly at me.

“I’ll always be your little bean, Em. I want you to be honest with me, always. No judgment here.” I smile.

We walk back to the beach as the darkness falls.

“So, imprinting?” I ask.

“Ah yes, imprinting. It’s kinda like a soulmate-- whether that be platonic or romantic. It happens after you phase, if you’re lucky. When you first meet eyes with them, everything stops. It’s like all of a sudden, whoever you imprint on becomes your world. It’s not gravity holding you down to the Earth anymore, it’s them. You’d do anything, be anything for them. A brother, protector, a lover… but it’s all up to you. You get to choose this, (Y/N).”

“Oh wow. So I’m… I’m your imprint?” I ask.

“Yes, you are my imprint. You get to control it all from here.” He looks at me with a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Well, Em. I’ve loved you my whole life. This is what I wanted, and if it’s what you’ve always wanted… then why fight it? I agree that we should take it slow but, I want you.” I breathlessly answer him.

“(Y/N), you don’t know how happy this makes me.”

I lean up, kissing him on his lips again. This was a feeling I would never get used to.

“Thank you.” He says, almost short of breath.

“No, thank you, Em.” I lay my head on his warm chest once more.

We sat back down on the log once more, his arms wrapped around me, keeping me warm.

“So, can I ask you some questions?” I ask.

“Of course.”

“So, how hot are you? Like temperature wise.”

“Jake said 108.9. So I’ll trust his word on that.”

“Holy shit. You really are my dream space heater.” I giggle.

“I love keeping you warm, so it works for me.” He kisses the tip of my nose.

“Next one, so the cold ones. Those are vampires. That means that they’re real? And they’re here?”

His face drops, realizing the heavier question.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, ever. Ever since the Cullens moved back, we started phasing. Bella’s dating Edward Cullen, yes. But they only feed off of animals, so they call themselves vegetarians, if you will. Anyway, since they’ve come back we’ve had issues with some nomad vampires. One especially keeps coming back for Bella. She’s been running on our land a lot, she’s just hard to catch. We’ve been trying to catch her, too.”

“So you say catch her, but you’ll be killing her, right?”

“Yes, (Y/N). She’s dangerous, she’s a rogue vampire on the hunt for revenge and blood. It’s what we were made to do.”

“No, I know. I just wanted to make sure. Just saying, you said you’ve never killed a person, low and behold you have killed vampires, though.” I tease.

“Oh, technicalities. They’re already dead. It’s to save everyone.” He nudges my shoulder.

“I know, Em. But the Cullens, they’re good?” I ask.

“Kinda. I still don’t trust them all that much but we are civil. We have a treaty.”

“I see. So who knows?” I ask.

“The pack, the Cullens, Bella, Billy and Harry, and the imprints. Though there’s only three of you guys right now. You, Emily, and Kim.”

“Ah I see.”

“I’ll introduce you formally to the rest of the pack tomorrow at our bonfire. You get to come to those.” He smiles at me. Pulling me closer into his chest.

“Quil’s coming, be prepared.” He tells me.

“What? How do you know?” I look around for Quil nearby to no avail.

“I hear him and Jared.” Embry tells me.

“From where?” I ask.

“I don’t know, they’ll probably get here in a few minutes.”

I look at him in disbelief, wondering how correct he was.

In the meantime, he explained to me the other perks of being in the pack. The mind connection, the healing abilities, speed, and strength. It was all so amazing, I couldn’t believe it was real. Apparently the “bears” were vampires-- I knew there were no bear attacks.

“Hey what’s up dorks?” Quil interrupts a few moments after Embry told me.

“No fuckin way.” I look at Embry in disbelief.

“At least a mile away.” He boasts.

“So she knows now?” Quil looks between us.

“Yeah, I know it all now, dork.” I mock.

“Ooh Embry, you finally joined the imprint club. I’m Jared, I have the best eyesight and I’m the most handsome. I know we’ve met before, but I’m a new man now.” Man this guy was goofy as all hell.

“Wow, incredible. What an honor to meet you again.” I mocked his tone.

“You know it, girl.” He winks.

“Does Jake know you know yet?” Quil asked.

“Not yet, I assume he’ll find out soon. I’m coming to the bonfire tomorrow.” I smirk.

“Oh god, we’ll never be able to get rid of you.” Quil says, sitting on my other side and messing my hair up.

“Rude.” I remark.

“I haven’t heard a peep out of him since he left with Bella today.” Embry informs us.

“Oh wait, so she knows because he imprinted on her?” I ask.

“No, you’d think so-- but no. He’s just in love with her, which ropes us all into the drama with her and her leech.” Jared says.

“Oh, I see.”

“Yeah, Jake’s pretty sensitive about it. Maybe don’t bring that up to him, bean.”

“Noted.”

We sat around, joking for hours. I began to yawn and leaned my head onto Emrby’s shoulder.

“You tired, bean?” He whispers into my ear.

“A bit. What time is it?” I cuddle deeper into his shoulder.

“A little after midnight.”

“I should probably go home soon, I’ll be too tired to drive if I wait longer.”

“News flash: you’re already there, bud.” Quil laughs.

I whine into Embry’s shoulder, sticking my tongue out at Quil.

I felt Embry’s strong arms lifting me up, carrying me to my car.

“I’m gonna take you home, okay? Where are your keys?” He asks softly.

“Inside pocket of my bag.” I mumble.

I felt him go into the bag, hearing my keys jingle. My car unlocks and I feel Embry put me into the passenger seat, buckling my seatbelt.

“Thank you, Em.” I mumble.

“Of course, bean.”

I don’t remember any of the drive home, as I was asleep for the entirety of it.

I wake up to Embry’s strong hands lifting me out of the car and walking to my front door, unlocking it with my key.

“Where’s your room?” He asks.

“Upstairs, the second door on the right.” I manage to get out.

We go up the stairs, and he pushes my door open. Embry lays me down on my bed, and tucks me in before plopping my keys and bag on my desk.

“Goodnight, bean.” He kisses my forehead before walking to my door.

“Em, wait. Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?” I ask.

“I can do that.” He smiles before slowly walking over to my bed, trying to be quiet in an effort to not wake my dad.

“Thank you.” I lay my head on his shoulder once he gets into my bed, wrapping my arm around his waist.

He begins to stroke my hair, and hold me in his arms.

I could swear that if there was a heaven, this was it.

I felt my eyes drooping, unable to stay awake much longer.

“I love you.” I mumble.

“I love you too, bean.” He kisses my forehead.

And that’s the last thing I remember before drifting into my peaceful slumber.

__________________________

Word Count: 3635

I II III IV V VI VII VIII VIIII X XIR XIE XII XIII XIV XV XVI XVII XVIII XIIII

#embry call #embry call x reader #embry call fanfiction #embry call imagine #wolf pack #wolf pack x reader #twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilight imagine #jacob black #leah clearwater #paul lahote #seth clearwater #sam uley #brady fuller #collin littlesea #Jared Cameron #Quil Ateara

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