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hard-core-super-star · 1 day ago

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brought you together so nice [W.Maximoff + N.Romanoff]

pairing: dom!natasha romanoff x sub!reader x switch!wanda maximoff

summary: natasha takes care of you until wanda comes back. needless to say, the witch is more than happy about the arrangement you both came up with in her absence.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NO INTERACT -> porn with very little plot but even more feelings; mommy + daddy kink; slightly more established dom/dub dynamics; a dash of pet play (as usual); bondage; gagging; soft domme nat + bratty wanda!!!!; vibrator use [R receiving]; praise + degradation + a dash of humiliation; hair pulling; spanking; aftercare

wordcount: 4.1k

a/n: well, well, well...guess who got too attached to another series? yup, me 😅 these two have taken up more of my mind than i originally thought so here is part three of this little series. i don't have a plan to make another full part, but i might mess around and write a few blurbs here and there. we'll see what happens. anyway, thank you for all your support, especially regarding this little series. i'm thinking of opening my requests back up until the start of the new year so keep an eye out for that ;) [commissions are still more than welcome, though!] okay, i'll stop rambling for now, hope you enjoy <3

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Natasha could be sweet when she wanted to.

That was the first thing you learned after agreeing to become her and Wanda's submissive.

The rules and details weren't too clear yet, the redhead promising to answer all your questions as soon as the Sokovian came back from her mission. Still, she did what she could to fill in the gaps of your knowledge, allowing you to ask her as many questions as you pleased before showing you, in great detail, what she meant.

Despite the cold exterior you'd learned to love, she was much softer with you than you'd ever imagined. Sure, she was still a mean domme at heart, but she wanted to show you heights of pleasure you'd never experienced before.

And she went to great lengths to guarantee it.

It quickly became clear to you how much she loved impact play. Even outside of play sessions, she would always come up behind you, landing a hard smack to your ass before pulling you into her arms. You didn't mind, even when she did it in front of the others.

(Although Tony did whistle at you guys once and promptly earned himself a punch to the stomach. He laughed it off but made sure to never tease the Widow about her behavior with you again.)

You knew there were a lot of things you didn't know or fully understand, but Natasha always seemed to find a way to make you feel more excited than nervous about it. It was almost funny how quickly her personality changed once she allowed you to see past her walls.

Sure, she was still a little mean and more than a little snarky (which is exactly how you liked her, if you were being honest) yet there was a softer, affectionate, side that started coming out more and more.

She told you it was simply because Wanda wasn't around and she wasn't allowed to "break you in" without her around. Maybe it was a silly excuse perfectly crafted to keep you on your toes, but you didn't really mind.

Well, except because you really missed Wanda.

Being without the witch was harder than you thought it would be, but the Widow kept you busy enough to forget the empty spot beside you in their bed.

Your bed.

That was the second thing Natasha made you learn.

Yes, you were technically an addition to their relationship, but you weren't an outsider. You never were.

That was the third thing you learned.

Both Natasha and Wanda had their eyes on you from the very beginning. They loved each other, and their relationship made them happier than they could put into words, and yet they always felt something was missing. A third energy to keep them in check. To stop them from getting too rough, too mean with each other. To help remember how to be soft after spending so much time fighting with the world.

It was...strange, but you couldn't deny what they meant to you. The attraction you felt toward them had always been there and after Wanda opened that door...well, let's just say there was no going back.

You didn't understand how real that was until now.

Because somehow, someway, after carrying guilt you didn't even need to have in the first place, you were here.

You were theirs.

You were waking up in their bed with Natasha's arms wrapped tight around your waist.

A shudder ran down your body as the redhead's lips met your bare shoulder, peppering kisses across the skin. "Morning, detka. Sleep well?"

"Yeah," you reply as a smile forms on your face. "You're a fantastic cuddler."

"Shut up," she mumbles. There's a clear lack of annoyance in her words despite her attempts at sounding tough. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Your grip on me begs to differ."

At your response, her hands move to grip your waist, her nails digging into your soft skin. The sensation makes you gasp, your back arching almost instantly. You can feel the redhead smiling against your skin. It hasn't been that long and she already knows your body better than you do.

"Sorry, were you saying something?" She says, taking advantage of your reactions to grind against your ass. "You seem a little distracted."

It's a bit of a cruel game but it's one she loves to play with you. Truth be told, she loves playing with you, period. You're so different from Wanda, so much more responsive, more honest about your constant neediness.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you mumble, not so subtly grinding back against her.

Just because you were slowly learning the rules regarding your place didn't mean you didn't love pushing Natasha's buttons whenever you could. Which really only happened in the mornings and during aftercare. Those were the only two moments when the older woman allowed herself to be soft with you, to let you see behind the walls she'd expertly put up to keep everyone out. Everyone except you and Wanda, it seems.

Her voice remains low, straddling the border between a tease and a warning. "Is my good girl trying to be a brat?"

Your heart skips a beat at her words. At the mention of being her good girl. Of being hers.

After the rough beginning your relationship had, you never thought you'd be let into her heart in any way. And yet here you are. You're her good girl, her kitten, her darling submissive.

"No..." You trail off, trying to decide whether to behave or push her buttons a little more. Ultimately, your desire to be a little shit wins out. "...Daddy."

Natasha chuckles behind you, her hands moving from your hips and toward your breasts. She gives them a soft squeeze as her thumbs tease your hardening nipples. "Oh, kotenok, you woke up cheeky this morning, huh? You know what mouthing off like that will earn you, right?"

You do know. She's told you many, many times before, usually while she's praising you for being so good for her and drawing out orgasm after orgasm from your overstimulated body.

However, she's never actually acted out any of her warnings. It's a good thing, you know that, and yet you can't stop yourself from wanting to see what it will feel like. To explore what that kind of submission will do to you.

"Yes, Daddy. I know."

She hums before going right back to kissing across your shoulders, nipping at your skin just to get you to arch into her teasing hands. "I see...you want to be punished, don't you? Want Daddy to remind you of your place until there's nothing else inside your mind?"

You're about to reply when you're interrupted by F.R.I.D.A.Y. "Miss Romanoff, Miss Maximoff has asked me to notify you of her return."

Your cheeks flush, even though the disembodied voice can't see what exactly you're up to this morning. At the very least, F.R.I.D.A.Y. is a lot less nosy than Jarvis ever was. Although, if you're being honest, you liked him better before he turned into a robot.

"I'm assuming she'll be at the Medbay for a while?" The Widow replies, her mind no doubt full of the things she'll do to you to pass the time.

"Yes, it seems she'll be there for the next half hour."

"Good. Thank you, Friday."

The AI doesn't reply and you can practically imagine her making a swift exit out of the room, leaving you to face whatever it is that the redhead has come up with.

"y/n..." Natasha purrs, her breath hot against your ear. "I have an idea. Why don't we give Mommy a nice surprise, hmm? Don't you want to be her pretty welcome back gift?"

You're not sure what being Wanda's "welcome back gift" will entail, but you can't deny your curiosity about it. Especially since the witch has no idea what you and her girlfriend have been up to. You have no doubt she has her suspicions, she is a mind reader after all, but it'll still be nice to surprise her.

You agree before you even know what you're doing, and Natasha wastes no time in springing into action.

In a matter of minutes, you go from lying comfortably under the covers to being spread out on your back, your limbs tied to each corner of the bed. You're exposed, vulnerable, and you love every second of it.

Of course, Natasha isn't satisfied with that. No, to top off the pretty sight you make, she places a deep, dark red ball gag between your lips. You shouldn't be surprised since, after all, you did ask for it.

"There we go," the redhead hums appreciatively, her eyes taking in the beautiful sight. "Now, just sit tight, okay, detka? I'll be right back."

You whine instantly, but she pays no mind to you, quickly making her way out of the bedroom and going to look for Wanda. You're not exactly happy about being left alone yet, there's nothing you can do. All you can do is throw your head back in frustration and wait for your lovers to return.

You're not sure how much time goes by, although there's no doubt in your mind that Natasha does her best to draw out their return just to mess with you, but eventually, they make their way back to you.

The sound of the door opening makes you practically vibrate with excitement, your hips wiggling from side to side without thinking.

"Well, would you look at that," Wanda says as she steps further into the room. "Looks like someone was having fun without me."

Natasha follows her in, standing behind her and wrapping her arms around her waist. There's something so domestic about the action that makes your heart clench.

"I had to get her ready for you, darling," the redhead replies as her chin finds the other woman's shoulder. "She looks good, doesn't she?"

"She sure does. I take it you worked out your issues?"

"We came to an...agreement, yes. I couldn't let you have all the fun."

Wanda chuckles, the corners of her mouth quirking up into a fond smile. There's no mistaking the fire in her eyes, though, the desire simmering below the surface. "And you said I was crazy for wanting her to join us."

The Widow grumbles, clearly not quite ready to admit her girlfriend was right. "You're still not off the hook, you let her believe you cheated on me."

"When are you going to let that go?"

"I'm not sure, maybe you should make it up to me."

Natasha's eyes remain on you but Wanda turns around, silencing her girlfriend's complaints with a fiery kiss. All you can do is watch, feeling left out and far too involved at the same time. You're slowly getting used to their competitive antics.

Their kisses turn desperate in nothing short of a few seconds, leaving you far too desperate and needy while you squirm around on the bed. They take their sweet time getting back to you, though, instead letting their hands wander over each other's bodies.

You'd love to complain but you're still gagged so talking is pretty much impossible. More than that...you can't say you're not loving the view. It makes you feel a little dirty, like you're watching an intimate scene you shouldn't be, and it brings a rush unlike anything you've ever felt before.

They know, because of course they know, and your obvious arousal only motivates them to tease you.

Natasha moves first, expert hands reaching for the hem of Wanda's shirt and lifting it over her head in an instant. "I missed you."

"Are you talking to me or my boobs?" The witch replies with a perfectly raised eyebrow.

"I'm talking to all of you."

"Nice save, 'Tasha."

"Shut up."

There's something comforting about the scene in front of you, even as your frustration builds. You've been with them before, but it's different this time. You can feel the change in energy, the easy chemistry that flows between all of you now that Natasha isn't trying to push you away.

"Come on, I think we've teased our good girl long enough," Wanda says, taking the redhead's hand and leading her toward the bed. "Isn't that right, sweetheart? You're feeling a little frustrated, hmm?"

You nod desperately in response, tugging at the rope that holds you down. Your actions only make both of your lovers chuckle.

"Look at her, she's drenched and we haven't gotten started yet," Natasha comments, her eyes trailing up and down your body like a predator assessing its prey.

"I'm guessing this means training's going well."

"She's a quick learner. A bit bratty sometimes, though."

The way they talk about you as if you're not a part of the conversation has you clenching around pure air. It doesn't help that the Widow is so accurate in her assessment of you. You love being submissive, being under their control, but you can't deny how much fun it is to disobey. To push against the boundaries she's set for you, not to defy her but to tease her. Maybe even test her a little.

It's far too fun.

"Is that right, sweetheart?" Wanda asks, even though your body language makes it clear how correct Natasha is. "I thought you liked being our good girl. Because if you don't, well...you know what happens to naughty girls, don't you?"

Of course you know. It was one of the first things the redhead taught you. Sure, the rules and terms weren't too fleshed out yet since Natasha had wanted her girlfriend to be a part of the whole exchange, but she'd gone over most things with you. Rewards, punishments, hard limits, all that stuff.

You're unable to tell the witch that, though, thanks to the gag in your mouth. Your incoherent mumbles seem to entertain her for a few seconds while Natasha sneaks off toward their closet.

Wanda's chuckle cuts through the air. Your attempts at convincing her you've been good clearly amuse her. "I know, baby, I know you like being good. Otherwise, Nat wouldn't be so attached to you."

"I'm not attached," the redhead grumbles.

A month ago, her words would have made your heart drop into your stomach. Now, though, you know she's only playing a part. She has no problem telling you how she feels outside of a scene, but when you're playing, when you're being their pet, she's right back to being mean. Right back to degrading you and humiliating you until you're riding the edge of pleasure and pain.

"Keep telling yourself that, darling."

"Oh, I will."

Their banter is borderline comforting. You've loved spending time with Natasha, but this, being with them and seeing their personalities come together, this is where you thrive.

Well, it's not like you're doing much. Then again, they like you most when you're like this. Vulnerable, at their mercy, and so obviously loving every second of it.

Wanda climbs onto bed with you, crawling over your body until she's hovering over you with a gentle smile that steals all your worries away. "'Tasha's such a liar, isn't she, sweetheart? It's okay, let her act like she's the big bad."

You want to laugh, but it's a little hard when she's leaning down to pepper kisses all over your face. The action is far softer than what you were expecting and it makes your heart soar.

You were ready for a rougher training session, for a trial run meant to show you what you had been missing in the witch's absence. But this? This is really good too.

Wanda continues her loving assault on your skin, trailing kisses down your jaw and toward your neck. You tilt your head back in response, earning a soft giggle muffled against your skin, as she kisses and nibbles all up and down your throat. There's no doubt in your mind that she's littering your skin with hickies and noticeable marks, but you find you really don't mind it.

The witch steals your attention long enough for Natasha to gather a few supplies before making her way over to you. You feel her set a few things down next to you, but you don't get to see what they are. Not that you really mind considering how busy your mind is.

"Stop hogging her attention, that's not very fair."

"It's not my fault you left her so fuzzy-headed. Poor girl didn't even stand a chance, huh?"

You shake your head, a few muffled whines making their way out of you.

Natasha chuckles as she shifts onto her knees next to you. Her hands find their way between you and Wanda's bodies, teasing your skin as she explores the territory she's spent the past few days claiming.

"Oh, please. This is nothing. You should've seen the state she was in last night."

The reminder makes you squirm in your restraints, trying to get closer to them to no avail. You know how desperate you look, how absolutely needy you are, but you can't find it in yourself to care. This is what you had been waiting for. To be completely theirs. To surrender to them and accept everything they were willing to give you. Sure, it was intimidating and yet it felt incredibly right.

"Are you trying to make me jealous?" Wanda responds, working her way down your body, expertly avoiding the areas where her girlfriend is touching you.

"You deserve it. Wasn't this your fantasy?"

"Maybe. It was hers first, though. Isn't that right, detka?"

The change in topic makes you blush. It shouldn't be surprising to hear that the witch had already known about your feelings for her but it's still a little embarrassing. At least she seems to enjoy it.

You nod, your movements slightly frantic and no doubt fueled by the feeling of her lips on your flushed skin. She takes her time dragging her lips up and down your inner thighs as Natasha teases your hardening nipples.

"Such a good little slut. I bet you're already so fuzzy. Just want your cunt played with and nothing else." The redhead distracts you with her words, leaving you completely unprepared for Wanda's continued assault.

You don't hear the thrumming sound of the vibrator coming to life, but you sure feel it against your sensitive clit. Your whole body shudders in response as your hips buck in a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sensation.

Your reaction makes the witch laugh and she leans down to press a few more kisses to your thighs. "There you go, that's what I like to see."

Her words feel more like humiliation than praise and yet you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when it feels so good that it borders on painful.

"Excuse you, we were having a little chat." Natasha's tease is coupled with a firm grip in your hair as she tilts your head toward her. "I'll have to train you if you don't fix that attention span, pet."

"Be nice, Nat, it's not her fault she likes me more."

"God, you're such a brat, Maximoff." Her free hand leaves your body to land a sharp smack against Wanda's ass. "I'll put you in your place too, if I have to."

The witch hums in response, very clearly pushing herself back against the redhead's hand. "You know I'd enjoy it."

Natasha spanks her again and the sight has you bucking your hips faster as you search for more pleasure. You let out a string of whines, already feeling yourself on the edge of an orgasm. It's a little embarrassing how quickly you're reaching your limit but in your defense, you've been worked up ever since you woke up. You were bound to lose from the beginning.

"Don't tell me you want to cum already, sweetheart? We've barely gotten started."

You want to defend yourself, but your attempts are instant failures. Natasha seems to get off on how pathetic you sound, though.

"It's alright, kitten, why don't you go ahead and cum for me? Mommy hasn't earned her reward just yet."

Wanda opens her mouth to object but she doesn't get very far since the redhead goes right back to spanking her.

You're not used to seeing the witch in a slightly more submissive position. She always seem to straddle the border between being fully in control and immersed below Natasha's dominance. This change of pace is more than welcome, though.

The vibrator gets pushed harder against your sensitive clit and the pressure sends you over the edge almost instantly. You don't get a chance to warn them, all you can do is give in to the sudden pleasure as your body trembles beneath them.

They're both distracted by the sight of your orgasm crashing into you so suddenly. So beautifully.

"What a good girl," Natasha murmurs appreciatively. "You could learn a thing or two from her, Wands."

"Whatever." You miss the way the witch rolls her eyes since your eyes are more than a little blurry and there's a soft ringing in your ears. "It won't be my fault when she forgets her place, Daddy."

That earns her another spank, but she's too busy moving the vibrator away from your drenched cunt to care. You whine softly at the loss of contact even though you feel far too sensitive to take much more.

Apparently, you look as out of it as you feel because the older women take a few moments to let you catch your breath.

Wanda's hands gently stroke up and down your legs to keep you grounded while Natasha shifts closer, her hands reaching out to undo the ballgag. "How are you feeling, kotenok? Do you want to keep going?"

Your throat's a little dry, but you manage to form a reply. "I'm okay. Just need to catch my breath."

The Widow nods before reaching over to grab the bottled water on the nightstand. She helps you take a few sips of water while Wanda continues to caress your skin, both giving you as much time as you need to recover. It's such a small thing and yet it's a reminder of why you're so attached to them. Why you need them more and more with every day that goes by.

Your relationship with them might have had a bit of a rough start, but you couldn't imagine a better outcome. Couldn't imagine two better people to surrender your heart to.

"Someone's in a romantic mood," Wanda pipes up with a soft smile.

Her words cause an instant response in you and you feel your face grow warmer by the second. "Why are you in my mind right now?"

"Because your thoughts about me are so loud," she replies almost instantly. "Don't look so embarrassed, detka, I think it's cute."

"Shut up," you mumble, momentarily forgetting where you are and what you're in the middle of doing.

Wanda's smile turns slightly dark and her hand comes down against your thigh before you can even think about what you did wrong. "Where'd your manners go, huh?"

The sensation makes you shiver, but Natasha reaches a hand out to stop the witch from smacking your thigh again. "Time out, darling. I don't think we're quite ready to keep going."

You want to argue with her and yet you make no real effort to. As much as you might want to keep going, you can't deny how overwhelming it all was...and how desperate you are for some cuddles.

"Sorry," you mumble.

Wanda instantly shushes you as she uses her magic to undo the restraints keeping you tied down. "Nonsense, you have nothing to apologize for."

The second your limbs are free, Natasha's hands are on you again. This time, though, she merely maneuvers you onto your side so she's able to slide in behind you. The second her arms wrap around your waist, your shoulders let go of the tension they've been holding.

Wanda wastes no time in joining the two of you, laying down in front of you and reaching up to play with your hair. "Just relax, we have all day to pick up where we left off."

"Don't rush her, little witch."

Natasha's words make you chuckle and you lean forward until you're practically buried in the witch's chest. "I'm okay, guys. I don't break easily."

A beat of silence goes by as they allow you to soak in the afterglow, in the feeling of their embrace.

But the Widow really can't help herself.

"Are you sure? Maybe we should test that out."

Her words are a tease, but none of you can deny your curiosity...or your arousal.

Needless to say, you spend most of the day tangled up in their bed.

Your bed.

With the two women who mean the absolute world to you.

#wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat #wandanat smut #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #mommy wanda #avengers fanfiction #marvel fic #mcu imagine #wlw fic #writing

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jayparked · 13 hours ago

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hii!! congrats on 1k! ^^ can i perhaps get 47 + 75 with jungwon? <33

"jungwon, please! it's too much!" you cry out, tears staining your cheeks while your boyfriend relentlessly pounds into your pussy. he has you sitting on top of the bathroom sink in some random person's house, the music from the party downstairs vibrating the walls around you. it's the one thing you try to focus on in order to hang onto your sanity. jungwon has already made you come twice now and he's showing no signs of stopping anytime soon.

he watches the spot where your bodies connect carefully, lips parted slightly as he pants with each hardened thrust. his tongue pokes out to swipe along his bottom lip before he looks into your eyes, his own cloudy with determination.

"not stopping," his words come out ragged as he continues to put everything he has into each thrust, "someone else thinks they can fuck you better? im gonna make you come so many times on my cock that you'll never doubt that i'm the only one who can do this to you. only i get to ruin you like this, you hear me?"

"wh-? what are you talking about?" your eyelids are fluttering now and you're desperate to ignore the way your bruised walls clench around him.

"heard some guy talking about you, eye fucking the hell out of you too. said he could probably make you come in less than five minutes," jungwon scoffs, "well i made you come in one minute. and i bet i can do it faster if we were at home." a darkness flicks across his iris's and suddenly he's gripping you even tighter, moving your legs higher up on his waist.

"i want you to scream my name," growling, jungwon grabs your hips and pulls your body in pace to his thrusts, each one harder than the last and it's a miracle you can even understand what he's saying with the way you're so fucked out.

"th-there are people outside this door. you want everyone to know we're having sex?"

"well, this isn't about them now is it?" he grows more aggressively, lips now attached to your collarbone, nipping and sucking on your flesh until pretty little red marks appear.

you try to hold on, you really do. but jungwon lifts you off the counter and holds you against his body, using his upper body strength to bounce you on his cock while he leans against the bathroom wall. the squelching is getting louder as your ability to hang on dissipates.

"fuck! yes! jungwon right there! oh my god jungwon please!" you dig your nails into his shoulders and flex your leg muscles around his waist, his pace still not letting up.

you were doing just fine until suddenly, jungwon's voice drops to a lower register, his tone even and demanding, "that's it baby. tell everyone i'm the only one who can ever make you feel this good."

suddenly, without any warning, you're releasing on his cock once again, his name leaving your lips with a scream that rips through the house right as the music goes silent between changing songs.

for part of my 1k follower celebration send me a member and a number from this list and i'll write a short drabble about it ♡ masterlist

#tysm :)#jayparked 1k drabble event #jungwon smut #jungwon hard hours #jungwon hard thoughts #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #jungwon x you #jungwon x reader #jungwon x y/n #enhypen x you #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n

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sturnsrecord · 2 days ago

Text

CLIMB THROUGH MY WINDOW

PART TWO — [fuckboy!chris x smart!reader. alcohol, drugs, dj on the vj, fingering, eating pussy]. you find yourself gravitated towards chris at a party, letting up more than you thought you would.

ʚ part one ɞ — ʚ part three ɞ

despite your studious lifestyle, and somewhat good decision making as a teenager, you didn't always turn down a party. if you had done all your work for the week, and had found a good lie to tell your parents, then you��d show up.

after that night in your room with chris he hadn't really spoken to you, other than in class or around school. you hated to admit it, but it bothered you. a lot.

it had been a week since then and you’d already seen him chatting to other girls by their lockers, leaning on them like some idiot as he chatted them up.

you didn't let that bother you. you knew chris, and what he was like. he was a fuck boy, of course he was gonna do exactly that and fuck other girls. deep down you wished you had the sexual confidence to sleep with other guys, maybe make chris feel shit. although a part of you knew he wouldn't even care.

you also knew that not having sex with him was bound to push him away, but you weren’t stupid enough to just sleep with him to keep him close. if he didn’t want what you was giving him then he could fuck off. which is what he would do.

this was your first time at a boys party though. you thought there'd be no difference, it was the same clump of teenagers in their school that showed up to all the parties. but apparently, not having a girl as the host meant there were a lot more rouge plus ones and a lot less organisation.

the house was poorly lit, only adding to everyone's intoxication, as well as the mixed smell of bo and alcohol.

you walked through the crowd, clinging onto your best friend's hand in the hopes that you wouldn't be separated. the both of you thought that making a beeline for the garden was the best idea, but the second you got out there it was just as busy.

“who the fuck are all these people?” you mutter to bella. “no idea.” she huffed, looking around to observe all the new faces.

as you make your way through the garden, you spot chris. he’s sat on an outdoor sofa, surrounded by other rowdy boys and some girls who were very obviously flirting with him and his friends. you tug at bella's arm, motioning towards chris.

“no, i don't wanna go over there.” bella huffs, raising an eyebrow. “c’mon. it's just chris, you know he's nice. besides, he's my friend.” you say, slightly desperate to go over there.

“friend?” she questions, giving you a certain look. “you guys are fucking.” she mumbles under her breath. you scoff at her words. “i'm literally a virgin.” you retort, as if that changed anything.

“you're still doing stuff with him.” bella mumbles back, trying to tease you. “okay whatever, i'll meet up with you in a bit.” you say, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “kay love ya.” she hums back before you separate ways.

you walk over to chris, noticing the half rolled joint in his hand. as soon as you’re close, he immediately looks up, a bright smile on his face. “didn't expect to see you here.” he says, returning his gaze to the joint as he delicately compacts the tobacco and weed into a cone.

“why not?” you remark, taking a sip of your drink, the already decided first and last of the night. he shrugs, licking the paper. “dunno, hardly see ya at parties.” he responds, folding over the paper meticulously before looking up at you. “thought you'd have too much work to do.” he remarks.

you raise your eyebrows at his comment. “well i don't.” you say with a smug smile. “hmm, that's a first.” he mumbles, the joint hanging from his lips, making his words even less clear.

“shut up.” you roll your eyes, frowning slightly. he smirks to himself, leaning forward to get a lighter off the table.

you hesitate slightly, going to sit on the armrest of the sofa. he takes note as he leans back, “you can sit y’know.” he says, bringing the lighter up to the end of his zoot. you sit down, fixing your skirt slightly to be composed on the small surface.

he wastes no time wrapping his arm behind you, his hand gripping onto your hip. you’re a little shocked at the tame yet out in the open pda, but watching chris relax as he inhales the weed makes you realise that it was very possible that he'd done other shit tonight too.

“you want some?” he asks, smoke tumbling out of his mouth as he speaks. you look down at the joint being offered to you, hesitating for a second.

“you can say no, m’not forcing-” you interrupt, pinching it from his hand as you take a toke. he smirks, watching as you smokes. he won't deny, you looked very attractive.

you hand it back, appreciating the burn to the back of your throat at the strength. “good?” he questions your reaction.

“better than any other weed i've smoked.” you answer honestly, taking a sip of your drink, hoping it would soothe your throat, despite the fact it was a vodka-coke.

“that's cos i’ve got good shit.” he says, his face scrunching as he inhales whilst talking. a couple of his friends leave, creating an open space next to chris. he taps the side of your thigh, motioning you to move to sit next to him.

you stand promptly, walking past his spread legs to sit next to him.

“what you drinkin then?” he asks curiously, a little smile on his face like he's teasing you for drinking. “guess.” you respond, holding it out for him to try. he sighs, reluctantly grabbing the cup from your grasp to give into your little game.

he takes a sip, grimacing slightly. “you drink vodka-coke?” he questions, the judgement clear in his voice as he hands the solo cup back. “it's better than doing coke.” you mumble, a stupid jokey remark you were almost embarrassed to say out loud.

he gives you a look, a slightly amused smile on his face. “that was a poor joke.” he tells you, despite the grin on his face. “well, it's true.” you say sharply, giving him a look of disappointment.

he shakes his head with a smile before taking a toke. “since when d’you care bout the drugs i do?” he asks casually, a small frown on his face, contrasting his slight smile.

you could tell he was a little offended, and that he actually didn't like the joke you’d made. you shrug. “i wouldn't say i care, s’just not good for you.”

“hmm.” he nods a little, which was him nicely telling you to fuck off. “so like, you wouldn't let m’do a line off you?” he mumbles, looking over at you with an intense gaze as he takes another puff.

you almost choke on your drink, your eyes wide as he asks. “uh.” you cough a little, composing yourself slightly. “what d’you mean a line- like where on me?” you question, now a little curious at the proposition.

he grins at your response, shrugging. “dunno, between your tits or somethin.” he says casually.

“and how many girls have you done that with?” you question, calling him out a bit.

“between the tits?” he repeats, thinking for a second. “none.” you roll your eyes at the obvious insinuation that he'd done lines off other parts of girls bodies.

“want anymore?” he offers, his eyes now a little more red and sleepy. you take it from him, relaxing back on the couch as you inhale.

“so, s’that a no on the line?” he murmurs, clearly high as a kite as he looks over at you with a lazy smile, subtly holding out a baggie with white powder.

you look over at him in slight disappointment, snatching the baggie from between his fingers as you shove it into his coat pocket. “don't just pull that out.” you panic slightly, not loving how carefree he was sometimes.

he looks around, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “no one here gives a shit.” he grumbles, frowning a little before his gaze meets yours again, his eyes silently asking.

“you actually want to?” you question, not really understanding the point. you take a toke of the zoot after speaking, stubbing the end out into the ashtray on the table.

he shrugs with a small smirk. “why not?” he questions, like he's daring you to do so. you sigh, questioning your own judgement as you actually consider it.

he senses your hesitation, leaning forward a bit as his elbows rest on his knees. “doesn’t have t’be between your tits.” he mumbles, his eyes roaming over your body like he was looking for another spot. “could do it off your thigh.” he suggests, his voice almost hoarse as he speaks, making it very apparent that he himself liked that idea.

you definitely preferred that idea, it seemed like less of a hassle. maybe it was the mixture of the alcohol and the weed, clouding your judgement, but you were down to do that. “m’kay.” you mumble, giving in. it's not like you yourself were gonna do a line.

he nods a little, almost proud of you for saying yes and venturing out a bit. then he stands, offering his hand to you before he leads you through the house, your delicate hand gripping onto his more rough one as you tag along behind him.

he took you to an upstairs bathroom, letting you shut and lock the door behind you. you turn and he's already got the baggie out, holding it open. “shut the lid, n’sit.” he tells you, motioning towards the toilet.

you do as told, mindlessly chucking your bag onto the floor before you take a seat on the closed toilet lid, the plastic cold against your upper thighs.

“this is so stupid.” you mumble, feeling a little nervous. “and pointless.” you add, watching as he sorts out his shit.

“nah, it's hot.” he corrects, walking over to you before he gets on his knees in front of you. he holds his id card against your thigh, almost creating a barrier before he sprinkles a small line over your skin.

you watch intensely, feeling your heart rate spike at the sheer adrenaline of the situation.

“don't move.” he tells you, using the edge of the card to straighten out the line a little. you take in a small breath, trying your hardest to remain completely still.

he puts the baggie and his card away, looking up to see your slightly nervous expression. “you good?” he asks, his hand coming to gently rub your other thigh. you nod a little. “can you just do it, i'm scared i'm gonna flinch or move or something.” you say quickly, clearly quite stressed about the prospect of spilling the expensive substance on your thigh.

he chuckles slightly at your panic, more calm as he trusted that you wouldn't move. but he complies, reaching into his back pocket for a dollar bill.

he rolls it into a tube before leaning over slightly as he brings it to one nostril, pressing the other with his finger. you feel the dollar bill touch you slightly, before he runs it along the line, snorting the coke.

he's quick to tip his head back, his face scrunching as he sniffs, making sure it's all in.

your grip on the side of the toilet seat loosens slightly, as the muscles in your thigh relax. you look over at him as he puts the bill away, sniffling a little as it passes. then your gaze shifts to the tiny trace of the substance on your thigh, a miniscule amount left.

he pops his thumb into his mouth before collecting the remainder on your skin. “you want it?” he offers, although he's not expecting you to say yes. you shake your head. “how are you meant to snort that?” you question.

he smirks before sucking it off his thumb and then wiping it clean on his jeans. “like that.” he says, watching as you look at him curiously. “huh.” you mumble.

“s’not a lot, won't do much.” he shrugs, before looking back up at you.

neither of you move as his gaze shifts over your body, specifically at your exposed thighs and short denim skirt.

the coke was obviously getting to him as his gaze became fixed and concentrated, whereas your mind was spinning slightly. you were minorly cross faded, making you more brave than usual, as demonstrated by that little performance you just took part in.

“what kinda underwear d’ya wear.” he mumbles, his eyes not leaving your thighs. you smile at his question, finding amusement and confidence in the fact that he thought about that kinda stuff.

instead of answering you begin to part your legs, revealing your black lacy underwear, the material only partially see through.

his mind blanks at your action, his mouth filling with saliva as he admires the view and boldness. “you wear lacy shit?” he questions, his voice hoarse and lustful. “only when i dress up.” you respond with a smile, looking down at his reaction.

“looks fuckin sexy.” he mumbles, moving his hand forward to lightly brush his fingers over the fabric, feeling the slight dampness.

his head falls against your thigh at the feeling of how wet you are, his other hand gripping your calf. “fuck.” he groans, keeping his fingers there.

he looks up at you eventually, his eyes heavy. “d’you have any idea how wet y’are?” he mumbles. you nod with a small smile, basking in how much it was sending him over the edge.

he refrains from moaning again, instead returning his attention back to the heat between your legs. you gently play with his hair as you watch his fixation. “can i?” he murmurs.

you don’t even know what he's asking, but you’re quick to respond. “yeah.” you whisper, catching your bottom lip between your teeth.

he pushes the bottom of your skirt up, watching as it bunches at your hips. then he hooks his fingers into your underwear, tugging it down your legs. you lift your hips up, helping him, and that's all the confirmation he needs to know you’re more than ok with this.

he separates your legs, admiring your naked form. “fuck-” he whispers, reaching out to touch you, sliding his fingers through your folds. you slouch back, looking down at the movement of his hands. you keep an eye on where his hands are going, almost waiting for him to do something.

his middle finger moves lower, gently prodding at your entrance. you flinch slightly at the new feeling.

“you still not into me fingerin you?” he questions, fixated on the way the tip of his finger slipped in slightly. “you can.” you breathe out, suddenly desperate to feel him. maybe it was your intoxication talking, but either way you knew you wanted chris, you just struggled to rationalise and vocalise it to him.

“you sure?” he asks, tilting his head up to look at you. you nod eagerly, opening your legs a little wider to give him access.

he wastes no time slowing pushing his finger in before gently twisting his wrist to get the right angle. you bask in the new sensation, never having had anything up there. then he speeds up quickly, curling his finger up into your g-spot.

“oh fuck-” you gasp, your body tensing slightly at the intense pleasure. he concentrates on the rhythm of his arm, making sure to hit the spot inside you perfectly.

“can't lie, i really wanna go down on you.” he murmurs breathlessly, clearly overcome with lust in the moment.

“what..?” you mumble out, returning to reality for a second as you focus your eyes on his face, and the desperate expression on it.

“y’know, when you give a girl head-.” he explains with a sly grin. you shake your head quickly. “fuck off.” you scowl at his sarcasm. “i mean like, right here?” you raise your eyebrows as you question.

he looks over your body, your legs spread for him, exposing yourself at almost eye level. “well, i mean…” he raises an eyebrow, making a point about the position you were in right now.

you think for a second, looking over the situation. he senses the hesitation, bringing his hand to gently rub your thigh. “it’ll feel real good. promise.” he tells you, venturing closer.

your heart rate picks up as he brings his face closer to your heat, a peak in anxiety and insecurity as no ones been that close to you like that before. but all that vanishes as his tongue presses over your sensitive clit, making your body jerk in pleasure.

“mghh..” you groan, threading your fingers through his hair. he gets the message, immediately going all in, circling his tongue over your clit expertly, his hand still gripping your thigh.

“you're really good at that.” you croak out, your mouth momentarily falling open at the feeling. he smirks against you, concentrating on the task at hand as he soaks in the praise.

after a few minutes of the delicate touch of his tongue, he shifts so that he can hold both your thighs, pulling you closer to his face. for comfort you end up mindlessly resting your legs over his shoulders as he goes in further, sucking and nipping at your clit.

it makes your back arch, chris holding down your hips with his hands. “fuck-” you moan, your voice cut off by a gasp as he gently slips a finger in.

you sit up a little, looking down at him with an already fucked out expression. “wait- i’m gonna cum if you do that.” he removes his mouth, looking up at you curiously, “is that not the point?” he taunts, his finger slowly moving in and out of you.

“yeah, but i'll be too loud.” you whimper, reminding the both of you where you were, anyone could be outside that door waiting for the toilet.

his smirk only widens at your admission, “be quiet then.” he ushers before his lips connect with your clit again. he leaves you with no time to dispute before gasps and whines are tumbling out of your mouth again.

he's quick to match the pace of his finger with the movement of his tongue, applying more pressure to your sensitive nerve as his finger hits your g-spot repeatedly.

you grip onto his hand that's still on your thigh, holding tightly as you try to make less noise.

from the constant simultaneous stimulation you feel, waves of pleasure coarse through your body, digging your nails into his skin as your orgasm builds up.

“gonna come.” you squeak, trying your best to stay silent. you resolve to covering your mouth with your hand, poorly muffling your moans as your high hits. he looks up at you from his position between your legs, not wanting to miss the sight of you coming undone from his touch.

your hips desperately grind forward onto chris's mouth as you come, his movements slowing to a reasonable pace. he removes his mouth, watching his finger pump in and out slowly as your body shakes and you come down from your orgasm, eventually pulling his finger out.

once you've calmed down, he gently removes your legs from his shoulders, planting your feet on the floor.

“holy fuck.” you breathe out, almost in shock from how good that felt. he basks in your orgasmic haze, loving how good he made you feel. “you taste really good.” he comments, sucking your slick off his middle finger.

“don't do that- that's disgusting.” you mutter, frowning judgmentally.

“what?” he chuckles, amused by your reaction. “i just had m’tongue on your pussy.” he points out. you grimace a little, despite the truth of it. “don't say it like that.” you mumble, shaking your head slightly with the same disgusted look on your face.

he rolls his eyes playfully as he stands up, “you're ridiculous.” he tells you before he goes to wash his hands.

you sit up, your legs a little shaky as you pick your underwear off the floor, stepping into them. you stand, pulling them up before fixing your skirt.

“you good?” he asks, leaning against the counter as you sort your stuff. before you can answer there's a bang on the door followed by a loud voice telling you to hurry up.

your eyes go wide, and you want nothing more than to curl up into a ball and hide. “chris, i can't go out there.” you whisper, picking your bag off the floor.

“s’fine.” he says, like that's supposed to just reassure you completely. he saunters to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open almost theatrically.

chris daps the guy up, and from the friendly interaction you can tell it's one of his friends.

“you guys hookin up?” he asks, looking between the both of you with a grin, his gaze remaining on your legs for far too long.

“nah, just doin the usual.” chris says, subtly wiping his nose as he speaks. the guy's eyebrows raise before he looks over at you again. “you do coke?” he questions, clearly surprised.

you go to respond, your words getting caught in your throat. but it doesn't matter because chris is already talking. “she did a bump, wanted to try it.” chris says, leaning closer to the guy as he speaks.

then chris's arm wraps around your waist, pulling you further away from the bathroom. “see ya around.” chris says to the guy, before pushing you so that you were now walking in front of him, a part of you thinking he did it to block the view of your ass from his friend.

“you okay?” he asks you, walking behind you as you descend the stairs with slightly shaky legs. “fuck off.” you tell him, trying to act like he hadn't just made your legs complete jelly.

he chuckles a little at your attitude, holding his hands up in surrender. “m’just asking.” he mumbles, a grin on his face.

you both reach the bottom of the stairs and you turn to look at him. “well i'm fine.” you hum before looking down at your unstable legs. “my legs are just a bit shaky.” you mumble under your breath.

his eyebrows raise a little, his own cockiness taking over. “oh really, why's that?” he asks, leaning on the bannister with a sly knowing smirk.

you roll your eyes, not wanting to feed into his ego further, although to be fair that may have been the best orgasm of your life.

“why'd you always ruin it?” you huff, moving to stand in front of him, his arm still over the bannister. “m’not ruining nothin.” he mumbles, pressing his lips together as he pulls you in by your hip.

your bodies are flush, and you can feel his steady heartbeat against your own chest, a contrast to yours. you look around at the crowds of people, some in conversation, others walking past the both of you to go upstairs. “you sure you wanna be seen like this with me?” you question, taking note of the increased pda when he's coked.

he pouts, a soft frown forming on his face. “what's that meant to mean?” he mumbles, although he knows exactly what you mean.

“we just look very couply right now.” you point out, looking at the lack of space between your bodies. he shrugs like it's nothing, but you know it is.

“so, we're just two people havin fun at a party.” he says, his other hand coming up to brush a strand of hair out of your face, tentatively tucking it behind your ear. “just cos we look couply, dont mean we are.” he adds.

“m’kay.” you mumble, just accepting his silly answer. “what?” he questions, frowning down at your change in expression.

“nothing.” you say, spreading a smile across your face to reassure him. “s’not nothin, what’d i say?” he asks, his hand now playing with the ends of your hair although his gaze is focussed on your eyes, following their every move.

you sigh, unsure of what to even say. “it's just-” you're cut off by him kissing you, his hands gripping your face to hold you in place. the kiss is hot, but softer than usual. his tongue isn't licking across your lip like usual, instead it's just the soft plush of his own lips. the intensity is there, it's just not in the action, rather in the emotion. which scares you a little.

he pulls away, pressing a soft peck to your lips. “stop thinkin so much.” he tells you with a small smile, rubbing his hand over your cheek.

you look up, into his eyes, aware of how adoring your gaze must be right now. “sorry.” you mumble out, drawing your eyes away from his.

“you're good.” he says shortly, before he kisses her head. you feel cold as soon as he's no longer touching you.

“i'm gonna go find bella.” you tell him, taking a little step away trying to keep it casual after that interaction. he nods, looking around a little. “i'll see you later then?” he says. you nod before parting ways.

you watch him walk away, letting out a breath you were unknowingly holding. fuck.

©sturnsrecord

notes . reupload from my previous account @/plan8sturn, I will be continuing the series here

#sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturiolo fanfic #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #★sturnsrecord #★ctmw

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roosterforme · 1 day ago

Text

Aim for the Sky Part 28 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You start to realize there could be a reason to worry when your exhaustion won't let up. Bradley is so focused on what's happening in Texas, he doesn't even realize he's missing out on what's happening at home.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo

Length: 3200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Texas in August was hot as fuck. And the humidity left Bradley wishing he could jump in a pool. There was no cool, coastal breeze. There was no temperate climate. It was gross. It had him vowing to never move from San Diego for the rest of his life.

"How did I live in Virginia for so long?" he grumbled, getting dressed for his first day on base. He had the air conditioner blasting in his small room in the barracks, but he was still sweating at seven in the morning. He considered texting to see how you and Rose fared overnight without him, but it was even earlier at home, and he didn't want to wake you unnecessarily.

He could picture you curled up on his pillow drooling, and it made him smile. But you had to do everything this week without his help, and that made his smile falter. He always tried to alleviate some of your stress by holding Rose when she fussed or walking around with her until she fell asleep. Mostly he was just in love with being a dad and wanted to spend as much time with his daughter as possible.

"Shit," he muttered when he checked the time, realizing he needed to get out of here before he was late. As soon as he stepped outside, the heat had him convinced he would sweat through his khaki uniform before he got to meet the rest of the recruits. Well, other than the ones he'd met at the bar the previous night.

LTJG Brooke Jeffries, call sign "Indigo", came to mind right away. It was no wonder how she'd earned her moniker. Her eyes were the most shocking shade of blue he'd ever seen. She tried to buy him a drink before insisting he meet several of the other aviators who were part of the program over at the pool table. Bradley stayed for a little while, careful not to let a single one of them buy him a drink. In fact, he only had the one beer with his dinner which would go directly to his expense report. The last thing he needed was one of them trying to get the upper hand or complaining that he was playing favorites.

With no clear idea of where he needed to go, Bradley wound his way along a few corridors before finding the classrooms. The facility was a lot smaller than those of North Island or even Oceana, but the rigorous training protocol at this particular airbase held a lot of promise. He was almost shocked at times that he'd been selected to decide who would advance to Top Gun.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw!"

Bradley turned toward the voice and was greeted by a few Admirals. After some saluting and some chitchat, he was led to the appropriate classroom, the presence of superior officers silencing everyone in attendance. There were some more introductions before he was given control of the group, and if he was sweating because of the heat a few minutes ago, now it was because of nerves. Shit. He wanted to be as successful as possible in this role.

"Good morning. I'm Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, and I'll be spending this week observing you in the air as well as reviewing the extensive files that have been compiled for each of you. Out of three dozen aviators in attendence, a maximum of eight will be invited to join the training program at Top Gun in September. I look forward to working with you."

He could feel piercing blue eyes on him as everyone stood, adjusting their flight suits as they headed out to the tarmac to get started. Before making his way up to the tower for the duration of the day, Bradley took a few minutes to identify each aviator and answer some questions. It didn't seem to matter where he was standing, Indigo was always nearby, but her questions were pertinent. She seemed like a bit of a teacher's pet, which had never been his style, but to each their own.

Then he sent them up in the air individually and in groups so he and the admirals could take some notes as a group. It was obvious even very early on who the standouts were. After just one day, there was very little question who would be joining him in San Diego.

-----------------------------------

You felt terrible. Almost like you had the flu. But every time you checked, there was no fever accompanying the constant exhaustion. Of course Rose decided this week would be the opportune time to have a blowout diaper every hour all night long, leaving you in a state similar to a zombie at work.

"Come here," you whispered, picking her up at daycare after work and giving her kisses. "Your godmother is coming over for dinner, and I want you to be on your best behavior. No pooping," you told her as you pushed her through the parking garage in her stroller. She simply laughed at you in response, which was not a great sign.

It wasn't even hot out. It was beautiful weather, especially compared to what Bradley was enduring this week. Yet you still felt unbearably hot, and you had a headache. "Maybe it's a good thing we didn't go with him," you mused as you situated Rose in her car seat. "You'd be poopy and sweaty, and that's not a combination that I really feel like dealing with at the moment."

While you tried to drive home, your headache just got worse, and you really didn't now how you were going to handle making dinner. Perhaps you should just start taking some cold medication as a preventative. It wouldn't hurt anything. You changed direction to make a quick stop, because a snack sounded nice, too. Maybe you could coax Rose to go to bed right after Nat left, eat some candy and pass out yourself. At least Bradley wasn't at home to stress you out. Recently, he seemed to put you right on the edge of irritation a lot of the time, and it was nice to get a bit of a break.

You were pushing the stroller down the last aisle in the drug store when you saw something which made you freeze in place. "No," you whispered, palms starting to sweat along with the rest of you. The vague awareness that you still never got your period after Rose was born washed over you. As soon as you got back from La Jolla, where you were pretty sure Bradley pulled out, you started back on the pill again. But there was no way for you to tell if you were ovulating.

You grabbed some pregnancy tests and went straight for the registers, freaking out inside before you remembered to double back for some cold medicine just in case. Your fingers were shaking as you used your credit card to pay for everything, including two candy bars. The cashier was making a fuss over your daughter, but the sudden loud ringing in your ears was preventing you from formulating a coherent response. You grabbed your items and rushed back outside.

When you got home, Nat was already there, and tears stung your eyes when she walked across your driveway to help you carry everything inside. "How's my sweet Rose?" she asked, picking her up gently from her car seat and peppering her cheeks with kisses. Then her eyes widened briefly when she what you'd purchased at the drug store. But she didn't say a word about the pregnancy tests, and you didn't have the energy to mention it or try to make an excuse.

"I'm thinking of making spaghetti for dinner," you told her, settling on the easiest combination of pasta and store bought sauce.

"I didn't want you to have to cook for me, so I brought some hot sandwiches from the diner," she replied. "One roast beef and one turkey. You can pick the one you want, because I like both."

Your mouth was instantly watering, and when you opened the bag on your kitchen counter, it smelled so good, you could have kissed her. "Thanks for getting these," you said, quickly unwrapping both sandwiches and pulling out plates. "I'm really tired this week without Bradley here."

"I figured as much. You've got to keep this little love bug fed and played with and read to all on your own." She sat down on the couch with your daughter in her arms. "I don't understand how something that looks like Bradley can be so adorable. Logically, it doesn't make sense to me."

You snorted, cutting both sandwiches in half to share them evenly. "He insists she doesn't look anything like him."

"Oh, he's so full of crap. I mean, he's lucky your kids will also look like you, because you're beautiful."

You didn't miss the way she used the plural of the word, and you felt your anxiety spike again as you cleared your throat. "Do you want to sit in the dining room? Or at the kitchen island?"

"Whichever is easier," she replied, giving you a lingering look before shifting her attention back to Rose.

You knew it was better to take a pregnancy test first thing in the morning, but after Nat left, you couldn't stop looking at the packages on the kitchen counter. Since you bought several, you didn't see the harm in taking one of them before bed. What's the worst that could happen? You'd stay up all night in a state of nervous energy? You were barely getting any sleep this week regardless, so why not just take it?

Burping Rose and reading her bedtime story were two things your husband readily volunteered to do, but you fumbled your way through both tasks as your heart beat a little faster. You were about to take a pregnancy test. It wasn't that you didn't want to get pregnant again, you just didn't want to get pregnant again right now. Not while your firstborn was still so young, and not when you hadn't been feeling like your normal self again yet. The idea of two babies to care for was also so daunting, you found yourself close to panicking.

You had to leave Rose in her crib to cry for a few minutes before she fell asleep, because you couldn't wait any longer. Not only did you want to pee on the stupid test just to see a result, you also felt like your bladder was going to burst if you didn't go now. You made a beeline back to the kitchen where you grabbed the boxes and your candy bars before running to your bathroom.

When you tore into the foil wrapper, you accidentally cut your finger. "Damn it!" you gasped, wrapping it up in toilet paper before you got the test ready with your other hand. You didn't know what to think as you finally let your bladder feel so much better. Chances were strong you'd need to take an additional test in the morning if you wanted to double check a negative result. You knew your hormone levels would be stronger then.

"This is pointless you whispered to yourself as you put the test on the counter and set a timer on your phone. You snatched up the candy bar, ripping the packaging open with your teeth and climbed into the empty bathtub to wait. The chocolate tasted delicious. Just as good as the sandwiches Nat brought. You wrapped the toilet paper tighter around your finger when you realized you could smell the metallic tang of blood in the air.

What were you going to do? Bradley would most certainly be pleased if it was positive. He indicated he that he couldn't care less if you were on birth control at all. If the test was negative, you wouldn't even tell him about it. You'd simply take everything out with the trash, and he'd never see it. Unless Nat said something. But you didn't think she would. Especially since you didn't metion any of this to her. That would be breaking girl code. But she was his best friend, so you weren't sure.

You took another big bite of your candy bar and thought about how long it took you to get pregnant with Rose. It was too easy to recall all of the months where you had yourself nearly convinced that it was never going to happen. How much anger and hurt you felt, wanting something your body just wasn't letting you have. And your daughter was perfect. She really was. But now you were scared for a different reason, and you only had yourself to blame for being so horny when you forgot to take your birth control pills away with you.

The fact that this candy bar tasted so good to you was becoming alarming. You could eat about ten of these in a row right now, no problem. You desperately needed to stop with the junk food and lose more weight, but you were starting to worry that there was a reason for this as you did some quick math. If you got pregnant in La Jolla, you would be about nine weeks along by now. You almost choked on the chocolate. That was practically the end of the first trimester. Maybe there was a reason you were so fucking bloated.

When your phone alarm sounded, you carefully chewed up the last of the candy as you eased yourself out of the tub to silence it. Your movements felt like slow motion as you unwrapped your finger to find just a small cut before tossing the toilet paper in the trash. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror, pausing to examine your expressionless face. And before you even looked down at the test on the counter, you knew what the result was.

--------------------------------

Being in a different time zone than you was annoying as hell. Bradley missed a call from you last night when he passed out as soon as he got back to his room after hitting the gym and taking a shower. Once again, he was afraid to call or text you too early and wake you this morning. Besides, he had to be in the tower soon to discuss some of his frontrunners with the admirals since he only had two more days before he flew back to San Diego. At that point, he would start planning the training exercises he would implement with these aviators come September.

Two pairs of Super Hornets were working through a dogfighting scenario when the radios in the tower crackled to life with voices. Once again, Indigo and Rex seemed like the top prospects for permanent roles at Top Gun. "They look really good," Bradley mused, scanning their list of accolades. "They're at the top of my list."

"Agreed," one of he admirals replied. "They are both a bit ruthless in the air, but they get the job done every single time."

The fact that it sounded like they were talking about Jake from five years ago almost made Bradley laugh, but that was probably the energy he needed to bring back with him. He could work some of the ruthlessness out of their systems.

"Who else do you think would fit with the program?" the other admiral asked, and Bradley was pleased to find that his notes and thoughts on all of the aviators were met with respect and agreement. His shoulders loosened, and a rush of confidence filled his veins. He'd been trying not to acknowledge how much this new role was filling him with anxiety. There was the fear of failing at his job, but he also wanted to be successful for his own personal growth. At the end of the day, knowing he was leading a well rounded team was important to him.

It was also important that he hit the gym again, or maybe go for a long run. The last few times you'd ordered pizza for dinner, he came home and inhaled half of the pie like it was nothing. When he looked in the mirror, there was definitely some more weight hanging around his middle. When he texted you, asking for some new pictures of Rose, you told him you were still at work but needed to call him as soon as you were done. He had about an hour, so he got changed and turned on his This is what a gym playlist should sound like, Bradley playlist that you made him so long ago, and he started a long run.

You were so much better at making playlists than he was, it was laughable. However the summer heat here was not laughable. Nobody else looked as beet red and sweaty as him. Maybe he was just conditioned for San Diego at this point. He wasn't really sure, but by the time he put a few miles in, he doubled back toward his barracks. When he sat down on some concrete steps at the side of the building, he held onto his phone, ready to answer your call whenever it came.

He was mopping his forehead with the hem of his UVA tee shirt when the door behind him swung open.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw."

Indigo's voice was now familiar to him from several conversations and the comms in the tower. "Lieutenant Jeffries," he replied as she stepped past him, also dressed for a run. He simply couldn't understand how these people weren't always pouring sweat.

"I meant to ask how you're enjoying Texas."

Bradley laughed and set his phone down on the step between his feet as she stood on the cement before him. "I'm ready to go back to San Diego and escape the heat. Not sure how you all manage here."

She smiled and ran her fingers through her jet black ponytail. "It's not so bad. I'm from Virginia, so it almost feels familiar." Her eyes slid down to his chest, reading his shirt before continuing to his left hand. "You went to UVA?"

"Yeah," he replied with a nod. "I grew up between Norfolk and Virginia Beach."

Her vibrant eyes lit up. "What a small world, Sir. We would definitely have a lot to chat about. After I run my five miles and hit the shower, I'm heading to the bar with Rex and the others. You should meet me there."

Bradley's brow furrowed as he examined her face. She was young. He knew exactly how young from poring over the individual files all week. Her expression held no trace of uncertainty, like she was expecting him to agree without question. She was one hell of a self assured pilot, but he wasn't going to start playing favorites.

"Thanks for the invitation, but I'm waiting for a phone call."

One dark brow quirked up over her blue eyes. "From your wife?"

He nodded slowly, voice deep and raspy when he spoke again. "Yeah. Hopefully my daughter, too."

Her gaze lingered on his face as she backed away from him with a soft laugh. "I'll be looking for you at the bar later."

Then she was off and running, leaving Bradley squinting into the setting sun and her retreating form. When he picked up his phone, he realized he missed your call again.

--------------------------------

Bradley, please focus on your family. One more chapter of him in Texas, and then we'll see what follows him home. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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w1ld-wr1t3r · 3 days ago

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could you write a cute lil drabble of reader who has anxiety (could be general or maybe something specific like being in a car) x lando norris and lando is a big comfort to the reader and then one day after a bad race the reader gets to be a comfort to him (i imagine their love language to be physical touch)!

Normally I don't like to write reader inserts, but I like this prompt so I'll give it a try just this once!

The greatest comfort in your life was Lando. He was one of the only ones who understood you, who understood what you went through. He never judged you when your anxiety got bad. He would just hold you close and whisper comforts in your ear, until you felt like yourself again.

Your anxiety often struck when you least expected it, snowballing from slight nerves to nearly immobilizing fear before you could stop it. You were more likely to have an attack when you were stressed, be it about work or your relationship or even just life in general. Lando was one of the only ones who had never made you feel bad about having anxiety, and he'd always done his best to help you through it, even when he'd been scared of doing something wrong. It was one of the many things you loved about him.

It wasn't often that you had to return the favor. He was so strong, taking steps to preserve his mental health and facing everything thrown at him with confidence. He wasn't immune to anxiety, but it struck him so infrequently that you hadn't had a chance yet to take care of him the way he'd always taken care of you. You would never wish for it to happen, never, but you did wish that you could show him how much you appreciated everything he did for you.

That time came unexpectedly after a wet race where things went completely to shit.

You'd nearly had to leave the garage halfway through the race, so anxious that you were almost vibrating out of your skin. Lando had had horrible luck today, ranging from a poorly-timed pit stop to caught in the crossfire of not one but two separate incidents on track. When a Williams collided with him on lap 42 and knocked him out of the race for good, you only breathed a sigh of relief because at least it was over now, and you didn't have to watch him try not to die out there any more.

You knew he would be upset, of course. Who wouldn't be after a race like that? You knew you had some of his favorite comfort meals on hand, and were ready to pull one of them out when you got home and start cooking. The activity would help calm your own nerves, and familiar food would hopefully lift his spirits, too.

But when you got back to your room, he was already there, and he was already crying.

You froze for a moment as you took in the scene before you. He wasn't just crying, you realized, he was sobbing. He was huddled on the sofa, curled into a ball and head in his shaking hands. Three different hoodies were strewn around him, like he'd been trying to find something comfortable and soothing to wear but nothing had done the trick. And he hadn't even changed out of his fireproofs. He must have come straight here as soon as he was free, too broken and upset to face anyone.

"Lando?" you asked cautiously, walking closer to him. He didn't stop crying, but didn't move away as you carefully sat next to him. "Are you -"

You cut yourself off before you finished the question. Of course he wasn't okay. Why ask the question when the answer was already obvious?

"Is there anything I can do to help?" you asked instead. You itched to pull him into your arms and hold him, hug him tight until the tension finally left him and he felt safe again. You wanted to ask what had made him cry, but you knew he probably wouldn't be able to tell you now, not while he was sobbing his eyes out and breathing little hiccupping breaths. You had a theory, though, that it was because he felt like he'd let everyone down today and was a failure. You wanted to tell him that that wasn't true, that he'd done amazing today, even with all of the odds stacked against him. He'd been so strong all day, and it was okay if he needed to cry now. You just wanted to help him through it.

Without looking up at you or saying anything, he leaned closer to you, reaching out with a whine. You understood what he wanted immediately, and tugged him to your chest for a hug. He sobbed into your shirt, burrowing into your arms until he felt like he was safe.

"Don't let me go," he whispered, sniffling. "P-please don't let me go."

You hugged him tight, rubbing his back soothingly. "I won't," you promised. "I'm here."

He settled deeper into your arms, clutching you like a lifeline. You continued to hold him, gently rubbing his back and occasionally whispering soothing words to him. You weren't anxious about the day's events at all any more - you were just glad that you could be here to help him through this.

Finally, after a long stretch of silence, he sniffled and whispered. "Th-thank you. I love you."

You smiled, giving him a gentle squeeze and kissing the top of his head. "I love you too."

You two had each other. And you were going to be okay.

#my first (and probably only) attempt at writing a reader insert of any kind #not normally my cup of tea but to each their own!#hope you like it anon <3 #lando norris #f1 rpf #f1 fanfic #reader insert #x reader #lando norris x reader #request #ask

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dreameryfics · 2 days ago

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JJ MAYBANK x READER

Summary: The Kooks show up on the beach and JJ defends you

I was with the Pogues all day, like any other day. The sun was shining and the waves were awesome. We woke up that morning and quickly went to the beach. It seemed like everybody had that idea, the beaches filled up within ten minutes it seemed. We got the Twinkie to the beach, well John B did, but not without almost crashing since he was drinking. I tried to tell him to stop, but there was no telling that kid what to do.

I never really was taught how to surf, but that didn't stop me from going out there and just sitting on my surfboard. JJ has tried to help me, but I'm just not very coordinated, to say the least, but he still loves me. I watched everybody surf for a while before deciding to go back to the beach. As I was walking back to the Twinkie, I saw a Jeep start driving over my way. I knew it was Topper and his goons as soon as I saw the vehicle. I sat down on one of the folding chairs we had set up before going to the water, trying to ignore them. I watched as he parked next to us. "What the hell is he doing?" I heard someone ask, looking to see Kie walking over to me.

"I have no clue," I replied, "I just hope no drama happens. It's a nice day and I would hate to have it ruined by them.” I looked over to see Topper, Kelce, Rafe, and Ruthie. I've never liked Topper, but I don't think he's a bad person. I think he's so focused on Kooks versus Pogues, that nothing else matters. It's always been a competition between the two. "I don't understand how he goes from Sarah," I gesture over to Sarah, still surfing, "to Ruthie." I look over to where the Kooks are and see Ruthie glaring at us.

"Well, it's simple," Kie started, "he had the best with Sarah, and now he's just, well, desperate." We both chuckled. I looked over at Kie and saw her grabbing a beer from the cooler, she raised one up to me and I shook my head. I know that there should be at least one of us sober to drive home. "Kie, we're being real mean girls-esque right now," I pointed out. She shrugged her shoulder before responding to me, "Trust me, she's said way worse about us." Kie came over and sat next to me. We sat there for a while before we heard someone walking over to us.

"Hey, can you tell your asshole boyfriend to stop hogging all the waves?" I look up and see Ruthie talking to me, not even acknowledging Kie. I look out and see JJ standing up on his board, noticing Topper doing the same thing before jumping off into the water due to JJ getting in front of him. If it was any other situation I would mention something, but I also know JJ wouldn't do that to someone else. "Ruthie, I can't control what he does," I look up to her hovering over me, "he's out there and I'm over here." She rolls her eyes at me, "You're such a bitch. Can't you just do something for once in your life?" she asks me, it was more of a statement than anything.

"Ruthie," I stand up and walk in front of her, "if JJ comes over here, I'll say something, but until then, how about you go back to your friends and leave us alone." I turned around and started to walk over to the Twinkie, looking at Kie and rolling my eyes at the whole interaction. I didn't get too far before I felt hands on my back, pushing me forward. "What the fuck," I heard Kie shout before coming over to me. I looked back at Ruthie and rolled my eyes at her. “Can't believe you were ever a Kook," she said with attitude before walking away from us.

Kie started to go after her, wanting to protect her friends, but I pulled her back, "Kie, it's not worth it," I told her, "they'll just turn it into our fault if you do anything." She tries to argue with me, but I just sit back down in the chair, trying to forget the interaction. I'm fiddling with my nails when I hear someone ask, "Hey, you good?" I look up to find a shirtless JJ jogging over to me with his board under his arm. I look over and see Sarah and John B getting some drinks from the cooler. I didn't even notice they were back. I nodded my head at JJ and gave him a small smile. He came and squatted down to be level with me, he took my hands, "What happened?"

"Ruthie," I replied looking back down, "she came over and was talking shit. Normal Kook behavior." I looked up at him before I heard Kie, "She pushed her, but your girlfriend over there decided to take the high road. Wouldn't even let me go after her." I looked over at Kie and gave her a look, not wanting her to have said anything. I look back to JJ who is looking over at the group of Kooks. "JJ, it's fine," I tell him placing my hand on his cheek, trying to calm the storm that is forming. He quickly stood up and started walking over to them. I quickly got up and went after him to stop him, but not before Topper yelled over at us, "Oh, look who it is, the Pogue prince and princess."

I took JJ's hand in mine, trying to calm him down. I felt him squeeze my hand tighter, letting me know he was fine. "Topper, let's cut the bullshit," JJ said in an annoyed voice, "all we wanted to do was enjoy the waves and the nice weather but you always seem to be right there, ruining it; your girlfriend too." Topper chuckles at JJ and gets closer to him, "I'm not the one ruining it. You pushed me off my board, and Ruthie here was just defending me."

"I didn't push you off your board, you jumped off," he stated with a small smirk on his lips. "Plus, you had been getting in front of us every other time, I thought it was a competition." Topper scoffs at JJ. I had only seen JJ get in front of Topper that one time, but it didn't surprise me that they had been getting in front of JJ beforehand. "Yup," Topper dramatically throws his hand up in the air, "it's always the damn Kooks fault with you guys."

"Seriously Top," I interrupted getting closer to him, "You've always hated the Pogues, don't act all high and mighty. You've started shit with them so many times I can't even remember. Even when we were friends you were an asshole to them." He looks at me with wide eyes, "I can't imagine what Sarah ever saw in you." As I turn my back away from him, I'm quickly pushed to the ground. "What the fuck!" I hear JJ yell before helping me off the ground. I wipe the sand off my legs and turn to face them. Ruthie was smirking at me, proud of herself. Topper was staring at her with a hint of anger in his face.

"Don't ever fucking touch her again," JJ said to Ruthie, but it was directed towards the entire group. I started walking away, not wanting to even be on the beach anymore. I overheard JJ add, "Don't even come near her or I'll fucking end you."

I heard his feet shuffle in the sand to catch up with me. He took my hand and faced me towards him. "I'm so sorry princess," he said before he engulfed me into a hug. I wrapped my arms around him and he placed a kiss on the top of my head. "If they ever bother you again," he says and places his hands on either side of my face, looking at me, "please tell me." I shook my head at him before he put his arms around me and pulled me into another hug. I've never felt more safe than when I'm in his arms.

We walk back to where the rest of the group is standing. They started asking questions about what happened and we told them. "How was I ever with him before you," Sarah asks looking over at John B. He shrugs his shoulders before we all chuckle at her, trying to in fact imagine what she saw in Topper. We packed up our things and left soon after, not wanting to be on the beach any longer.

We drove home and quickly unpacked our things before we went to the house. We were stopped at the door by Pope, with bloody hands. The atmosphere taking a drastic change from earlier.

I started this with a different ending in mind, but it didn't go in that direction so here we are... Not my favorite but it's what I got lol

#masterlist #fanfic #request #requests open #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj obx #obx #jj x reader #outerbanks jj #outer banks #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx x reader

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cyberbun · 1 day ago

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edit: THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! WE GOT TO THE GOAL IN LESS THAN A DAY!!! I'M SO GRATEFUL TO EVERYONE WHO DONATED!!! Locking reblogs to prevent it from spreading further.

Urgent: Transgender Asylum Seeker Needs Housing Assistance

My name is Charlotte; a lot of you know me for my presence online and many will know I am a transgender international student and asylum seeker in the US, currently set to graduate from my Master's degree in a month (hooray!), which means I'll need to move out of my university dormitories.

Unfortunately, both thanks to costs of living and the low, low salary graduate employees get, my funds have been left completely drained by this point. I have been living paycheck-to-paycheck for the past four years, and I am at a point where I don't have the ability to house and feed myself any further. I've let my physical and mental health deteriorate due to the conditions I've been living under. Throughout all of this, I've lived in university housing due to not making enough as a graduate assistant to afford anything else, staying in whatever the cheapest option is each term. What's worse, this summer, I took a full time job at my university that was not only physically grueling but also pulled the rug from under me two months before the end of the summer and cut my hours drastically, forcing me to look for help with my bills and rely on my credit card for a while. Thanks to that, I was able to remain in my current dorm housing situation, barely making rent and food every month.

This, however, leaves me in a precarious position, as I am soon to graduate, meaning I will be forced to move away from campus housing. I am currently in the process of finding an apartment in my vicinity, while also trying to find work after graduation and also juggling the end of my studies. Thankfully, once I find work, thanks to my qualifications I expect to be in a much more stable position, but I need help with my immediate housing situation, as I will be forced to leave the dorms in the 14th of December, necessitating I find a place by then.

Because of all of this, I am looking to raise $2,500 USD in order to help shoulder these charges; 2000 of which will go towards finding and furnishing an apartment (rent, security deposit, and some basic furniture), and 500 towards helping pay off the last of my university account balance and my work authorization. I am at a point where I have no choice but to reach out and ask for the help and generosity of my followers and friends in order to raise this amount in time. If this is not successful, I will have no way of affording a place to live next month. While I have a few options at my disposal in that worst case scenario, I hope to be able to avoid making use of them.

Whatever money ends up unused from this fundraiser will go towards savings, though I estimate I'll need to spend at least $1500 in rent and security deposits at the least.

If you're not able to donate, I encourage you to spread this around and share with your friends and followers, and any donation, no matter how small, will help towards my goal of remaining safe, housed and healthy.

Thank you all for your time and consideration,

-Charlotte

#fundraiser #mutual aid #please help me not be homeless :(#reposting because i forgot the link like an idiot

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therandompagesblog · 15 hours ago

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SKZ Pack Chapter 8

Trigger Warnings: None

2 hours to go and Chan goes to work. 3 hours to go and Y/N will be left with Jeongin, Minho and Felix. Y/N was determined to decorate the living room with Felix. Felix had started slowly pulling the boxes out to hide in his room, while the wolves got ready to go out. Hyunjin was working on Chan's assets while Jisung and Changbin worked out at the gym. Seungmin was out getting more Christmas supplies, even though he threatened Chan would spank her for it because he hates it going up early, but did Y/N care? Nope. She was ready. As soon as Chan gave her one hell of a kiss goodbye, promising he was leaving for three hours, Y/N knew her plan was going to work as soon as Felix knocked on her door. "So we need to somehow get rid of Minho," Felix whispered. "I'll lock him in the kitchen. Do you have the keys to the doors? I'll barricade the alcove." Y/N said. Felix nodded and pulled out the keys while Y/N ran down the stairs. The first one Y/N had to lock was the back door, which Minho didn't notice. Once the second door was locked Minho turned around in confusion as to why Y/N locked the door, but he ignored it and went back to his cleaning until he heard the scrape of a table come past the alcove. "What are you doing little wolf," Minho asked causing Y/N to snort with laughter. She was almost dying on the spot at his confused look. "What's going on?" Minho asked again but Y/N ignored him and dragged the corner table over and placed it between the alcoves. "Locking you in." Y/N giggled.

Minho crossed his arms and stalked closer, watching her like she was his prey. Y/N giggled trying to get him to stay back while Felix dragged the tree into the living room. "Little wolf." Minho sang. "Nuh-uh. Stay right there. All day." Y/N giggled. "If I kiss you will you tell me?" Minho asked boldly. "If I give you lots of kisses and attention and. And. And. And. Help you in the kitchen you will not get mad." Y/N begged as she looked at the wolf. "Hmm." Minho hummed and brought her chin forward, ready to kiss her when he noticed two ball balls run out the door. "What is that?" Minho asked just as Y/N pulled him into a suffocating kiss as she slid her tongue into his mouth. Minho gasped and a hot feeling swelled in his stomach as he grabbed the wall. Y/N brought her hands up into his hair pulling his head back to deepen the kiss. When Minho suddenly pulled back his saffron eyes appeared. Y/N felt nervous when she saw his eyes. Did I do something wrong? "You're such a little distraction are you not omega? Now tell me what you are up to. Hmm." Minho asked slowly. "Putting the Christmas tree up," Y/N said nervously. "Alright. Let's do it. Felix doesn't know how to put it up." Minho stated, pushing the table away so he could get through, while Y/N nervously watched him. She wondered if he was going to tell Felix to stop. Felix jumped, almost knocking the tree down when he saw Minho. "Baby, why is Minho here?" Felix asked nervously. "He said he wanted to help," Y/N said innocently, while Minho gave them a grin.

Minho pushed Felix out of the way to put the tree up, because Minho liked it a certain way. It had to be simple but elegant. While he did the tree, Y/N and Felix decorated the living room with Christmas pillows. Even the fireplace was decorated in garlands with cute little ornaments. Seungmin joined later with bags of snacks and some weird-looking ornaments he got because he was apparently under pressure in the store. Minho scolded him for that and told him to put it somewhere else so Seungmin decorated the hallway. "Shall I cook some of the snacks," Y/N asked as she took the bag into the kitchen. "No. No. I can do it." Minho said as he put the ornaments in Felix's hands. "Ya. I can cook Min. Let me cook." Y/N assured as she pushed him lightly into the room. "Did you not like my cooking on your birthday?" Y/N jested. "Yes-" "So then go and decorate. I got this." Y/N gave him a quick kiss before heading into the kitchen. Y/N looked at the foods Seungmin bought and preheated the oven while she set up some savoury snacks in the kitchen.

Y/N smiled to herself in the kitchen, as she thought back to the first time she met them. She feared them if not hated them back then and now things had changed. She felt safe with them. She loved them. She loved all of them in different ways. She loved Chan's patience and caring nature. She loved Minho's silent attentive nature that isn't always recognised as it's hidden deep within his cold façade. She loved Changbin's sense of humour and playful nature when he didn't want to do something. She loved Hyunjin, and despite him still being a closed book she loved his determination to keep her free from isolation. She loved Jisung's neediness and paranoia to get things right. She loved Felix's naiveness but his hidden strength to protect when he needed to. She loved Seungmins aloofness but also his irrevocable sexual nature. She loved Jeongin's determination to be the best alpha, but most of all she loved his protectiveness. Love was a strange thing for Y/N and she didn't think she could ever love again, but one thing she learned was you can only love once. You can only love someone once in that way. Love forms in different shapes and sizes. There is no way you can love someone different in the same way. People are far too different and hold many flaws. Even Y/N was flawed. She was flawed in many ways but her scars and wounds had started to heal. She was in a new place with new people who loved her. She felt safe.

Y/N jumped when she felt someone wrap their arms around her waist, placing their chin on her shoulder. It was Minho. He didn't say anything at first, only embracing her as he watched her put the snacks in a bowl. "Why do you look sad but feel happy?" Minho asked. "I'm happy. I was only reminiscing and thinking about how things have changed. How I feel safe here. Loved." The last part was a whisper, but Minho heard it. "You are loved, Y/N more than you ever know. I'm glad you feel safe here. You deserve to feel happy." Minho said, his voice softer than usual. "The living room is done. Chan and Hyunjin are on their way but I diverted them as I've asked them to pick up sauce." Felix stated eagerly. "We don't need sauce," Minho stated as he moved to open the cupboard where a variety of different sauces lived. "He doesn't need to know that. I wanted to watch a film with Y/N before they get here, or at least part of it since Chan is going to shout at us." Felix stated. "He won't. I'll defend it." Minho stated as he pulled Y/N towards the nicely decorated living room.

The living room was cosy and the fireplace had been lit. The sofa was nicely decorated even though Seungmin had already sprawled himself out on it with a bowl of crispy peaches. "What?" Seungmin asked. Minho ignored him and smacked his legs off so he and Y/N could sit down. It was quite awkward for Minho as this was the first time he was being openly affectionate. He allowed Y/N to sit in between his legs, cuddled up to him, while his other leg hit the floor. Felix sat next to Y/N as he flicked through Netflix to find a reasonable film while Y/N placed her legs on him, leaving a sulky puppy bunched up in the corner alone. Minho during the film would occasionally stroke Y/N's hair or rub circles on her hand, making it difficult for Y/N to concentrate on the film. Y/N was feeling a warm little bubble spread in the bottom of her stomach as she looked at the three wolves who were close to her. Even Seungmin had his hand resting on her foot so she knew he was there. "Why is there Christmas shit up," Chan called out. "Ask Minho." Seungmin and Y/N called out. "The living room looks nice. I can tell Minho did the tree." Hyunjin said as he poked his head around the wall to see the living room done up. "You did the living room! What did i-" "Ya," Minho shouted. "It's Y/N's first Christmas with us. She's allowed to celebrate early this year and we're going to make it the best Christmas. So take your grumpy self elsewhere." "Hyung calm down," Seungmin stated as he picked up half the food he dropped down himself from Minho's shouts.

Chan sighed but seeing his sweet omega's face looking disappointed at his actions made him feel guilty. It wasn't that Chan hated Christmas, it was that he didn't understand why they had to decorate two weeks before December. It made no sense. "I think it looks nice, but these blankets are awful." Hyunjin frowned in disgust. "You buy them then," Seungmin answered back. "I will. I'll take Y/N shopping soon." Hyunjin glared as he took one of the snacks off the table. "Hyunjin's right. It does look nice. I'm sorry baby." Chan apologised. He could see Minho's reasoning behind wanting to decorate early and he was right, she deserved it. She deserved better memories. "But no more decorating, please baby," Chan begged. "We're doing the kitchen tomorrow," Y/N answered and Felix grinned, causing the alpha to shake his head as he sat on the stool pressing play on the film they were watching.

Taglist for the iconic readers:

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spiderb00 · 2 days ago

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Game Strategy - Manon Bannerman

Manon Bannerman X reader

Synopsis: Your girlfriend sabotages you on the laser tag.

Genre: Fluff

a/n: I love Manon, I had this draft saved for so long, but I got sick and only finish it today, so, here it is. <3

The bright lights were contagious, we were all agitated and impatient waiting for our turn to enter the room. The teams were separated, and we were all talking and teasing each other. Unfortunately, my girlfriend, Manon, and I were on different teams. Manon led a team with Daniela, Lara, and three other friends of ours, while I led a team with Sophia, Yoonchae, Megan, and two other friends.

I loved Manon, but all she knew how to do since we decided on the teams was tease me. She wouldn't stop talking for a second, and honestly, I'm too passionate to just not pay attention to every word of teasing that comes out of her mouth.

"Baby, you know I'm not going to go easy on you, don't you?" Manon said, approaching and pretending to fix my vest.

"I don't need you to take it easy beautiful, I'm going to win anyway." I said as I pulled her by the waist.

"Ew, get a room." Daniela says, interrupting our moment and getting laughs from everyone.

Manon looks at me with a smile, I'll never understand what I did to deserve this woman.

"How about a bet?" The girl with pigtails says as she puts her arms around my neck.

"A bet, uh?" I ask as I rest my hands on his waist.

"Uhm... If you win, you can choose how we end the night..." She says with a smile on her face. "But if I win, you'll have to do everything I want."

"Anything?" I ask, wondering if it's worth accepting or not.

"Whatever goes through my mind." Manon says, now as she runs her fingers through my hair and tilts her head waiting for my answer.

"It's okay, I'll deal with it. You're going to lose anyway." I say, hearing her giggle and walk away as the Laser tag employee says it's our turn to enter.

When everyone is in their positions, the vests glow indicating that they are working and we all start to move, the adrenaline makes it seem like it's all or nothing, at least for me, in the face of the bet I accepted.

I still couldn't get hit, but I had already shot Lara and one of the guys on Manon's team. As I passed by I saw someone behind a wall shooting Megan, as soon as the person came out of hiding I could see that it was my beautiful girlfriend. I ran for cover, I could hear Manon's footsteps following me and when I saw it, I was totally cornered.

It turns out that apparently I had run to a place of no exit, Manon who was now in front of me gave a victorious smile as she slowly approached.

"I told you you would lose baby." The girl says as she points the gun at me, making me mirror the movement.

"I can shoot you first, and then you'll lose." My hand was seriously shaking now.

"You wouldn't do that to me baby, you love me too much for that." Manon says as she puts her hands on my neck, gently caressing the back of my neck and making me a little nervous.

"I... I can shoot..."

"But you won't," she says as she looks into my eyes and moves closer to my lips. "Kiss me."

"You're going to kill me one day." I say as I drop the gun and wrap my arms around the girl's waist.

Her lips were soft, sweet and kissing her was the best thing in the world, I could stay there for the rest of my life. My hands were on her waist and as much as I wanted to take them down a little more, I had in mind that we were in a public place and it was a miracle that we were not caught. Anyway the moment didn't last long, we were torn from our own little world with a loud sound.

As I looked down, Manon's gun was pointed at me while my vest was glowing, indicating that I was out and that the match was over.

"I told you you were going to lose." Manon said with a smile on her face, her hands going down and intertwining with mine.

"That's not fair, you distracted me, you basically cheated." I said as I let her drag me out.

"Relax, big baby. I won, but you'll like what I have planned as much as I will."

--------------

the people working at laser tag watching Yn and Manon through the cameras

#gxg #kpop gg #katseye #katseye imagines #katseye x reader #kpop fluff #manon bannerman #manon x reader #manon katseye #manon bannerman x reader #daniela avanzini x reader

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mgu-h · 2 days ago

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Q: Lando, we spoke to Max on Thursday and he said you're probably his best friend in Formula 1. Just wondering your reaction to that and if you're willing to put that friendship to the test tomorrow in Turn 1? LN: I wouldn't say it was the opposite way around (sic). I think something that we're… I'll agree with that. Let me start with that. I think me and Max are very good friends. I guess we’ve kind of grown up, not exactly together, we've never really raced against each other until Formula 1, but we've grown up in a similar generation, similar times and I think we've always got along. I think certain mentalities are similar in terms of we’re here because we love it, we want to enjoy every minute that we're here in the paddock and driving cars that we love to drive. But as soon as you put the helmet on, you forget about everything else and I think we have the correct amount of respect away from the track, where you can get along and be mates, whatever it is. It’s not like we see each other every day or text each other every day but we get along and sometimes bump into each other, go for dinners or go for a crepe whatever it is. But at the same time, when you put the helmet on, there's nothing more than, I'm sure, that he wants to do than just beat everyone and make everyone look silly and it’s the same the opposite way around. But you don't do anything differently, most likely, when you get in the car because we get along off track. I think we have the mentality of, you're driving you forget about everything and off the track, you've got a good amount of respect for each other. So you can keep those two quite separate. But I'm sure if Max seems to be aggressive or do things that don't look friendly, then he'll do them, and I'm sure when my time comes – probably not going to be tomorrow – but when our time comes that we're racing for things and we're racing for wins or championships then sure it will get put to the test a little bit more.

lando in 2023 being all "when our time comes that we're racing for wins or championships it'll be put to the test a little more" like it was, briefly, to the test, but it seemed to come through just the same as it was before. i bet they'll be eating crepes over winter break lmao

#bump into each other and go for a crepe is so specific i love it #tiny peek into the monaco life lmao #norstappen #lando norris #max verstappen #british gp 2023 #post quali interviews

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 9 hours ago

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Eddie seemed to have zero impulse control when he's not actively thinking about it. After Vecna Eddie moved in with Steve because he and Wayne didn't have a new place yet, plus, Wayne was living out of a motel. It was not a place for someone with wounds like his. Also, he was still waiting to be cleared of all charges. Steve was well enough to take care of Eddie. The metalhead was still in a lot of pain and on as many painkillers as he was allowed the first time that it happened. Steve was leaning over to fluff his pillows, and his lips were close to Eddie's face. It was all Steve’s fault, really. Eddie was thinking about how pretty his lips were when he decided to grab Steve by the back of the neck.

"What are - MMHH!"

Eddie brought his lips to his, and it was the sweetest kiss that Steve had ever experienced. It had left his lips feeling all tingly. Steve could easily pass it off on the fact that Eddie was high, and that was exactly what he did do. He never brought it up or told anyone about it. . .not even Robin. He really couldn't ignore it, though, when it happened a second time.

Eddie was feeling a lot better and could move around the house a lot more. Steve had finally been able to cook dinner for the both of them after living off other people's cooking and takeout while they both healed. They had finished eating when Eddie lumbered over to him and spun him around, cupping his face.

"That was the best home-cooked meal I've ever eaten - MUAH!" Eddie exclaimed, kissing him square on the mouth. "You go settle down. I'll handle the clean-up, big boy."

Steve had frozen a little. Surely, Eddie knew what he was doing? Since he hadn't brought it up, Steve decided not to bring it up either. . .except when it happened a third time. Eddie was completely healed, and he was able to be let out of the house since he was he officially cleared of all charges. He wanted to meet up with Corroded Coffin at Gareth's since they refused to come over to Steve's house despite the fact that Steve had told them they were welcome anytime. Even though he understood where they were coming from, it still stung that they refused to even try to get to know him. Anyways, Eddie was on his way out the door except for the fact that his keys were lying on the counter.

"Hey, did you forget something?" Steve asked.

"Oh, right," Eddie said, twirled around and kissed him while scooping up the keys. Then he was gone.

Okay, he really couldn't ignore it this time. Steve really needed to talk to someone about the kisses and about how much he liked them. He needed to know what that meant, and he knew exactly what kind of conversation this would turn out to be.

"Eddie keeps kissing me," Steve said as soon as Robin got in the car.

"I'm sorry, what?" Robin said, blinking.

"You know how Eddie's really affectionate," Steve replied. "Does it bother you when he kisses you?"

"Oh, you mean like kissing on the forehead and the cheek? No, I think it's sweet, actually," Robin said and rolled her eyes. "Are you feeling a little insecure in your masculinity because a man is getting a little affectionate with you?"

"What?! No, I don't mind getting affection from a man, Robin. You know I hug Argyle all the time," Steve said. "I'm just wondering why Eddie kisses me on the mouth and he doesn't do that with anyone else."

"Stop the car!" Robin screamed, and Steve pulled over the side, parking the car.

"Jesus, Robin!" Steve exclaimed.

"Eddie's been kissing you on the MOUTH?!" Robin asked.

"Yeah. He doesn't do that with you?" Steve asked.

"No, I think that's a treat only for you," Robin said.

"But why? We're both straight," Steve said. "I mean, I'm not trying to complain or anything, it's nice but why is he doing it?"

"You like it when he kisses you?" Robin asked.

"Yeah," Steve shrugged. "If I were into men, I'd be asking him on a date, but I'm not gay, Robin. . .well, maybe just for Eddie. Is it possible to be gay just for one person?"

"I mean, maybe, but I doubt that it's the case here," Robin said. "Usually, I would probably let you figure this out for yourself, but considering how long you kept it hidden that you like Nancy Drew, it might just take a while. . .do I have permission to rip off the band-aid?"

"Uh, yeah. I guess," Steve asked. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh, how the hell were you so sure about Vickie and completely clueless about yourself?" Robin asked.

"Are you still on it that I totally called it about Vickie being a lesbian before you did?" Steve asked.

"She's not a lesbian, dingus," Robun said.

"Okay, I was pretty sure that you two were dating. Robin, she's clearly into you, so I'm pretty sure you have a shot," Steve said.

"Yeah, we are dating but she's not a lesbian," she said.

"I'm so confused," Steve said.

"In more ways than one," Robin said.

"Robin, we're going to be late for work," Steve said.

"Vickie is a bisexual," Robin said. "She likes more than one gender."

"Oh. . .oh, like David Bowie!" Steve exclaimed. "Right?!"

"Right," Robin said.

"Oh my god!" Steve said. "My Tom Cruise obsession suddenly makes sense - I didn't want to be him - "

"Not to mention, all those times you've stared openly at Eddie along with his posters of Eddie Van Halen and Kirt Hammel. . . "

"Kirk Hammett, Robin," Steve scoffed. "Eddie would rip you a new one for getting that one wrong."

"But you knew it because Eddie did," Robin said.

"I like him," Steve said with wide eyes.

"Yeah, buddy. Are you going to need a minute?" Robin said.

"Nah, I'm fine. I actually feel really good about it," Steve grinned.

"Not even a little freak out?" She asked.

"Nope!"

"Lucky bitch," Robin muttered.

"I'm sorry, the next time I have a realization about myself, I'll make sure to give you the freak out that you deserve," Steve said.

"That's all I'm asking," Robin said.

They spent the morning shift talking about Eddie and what he'd say to him once he got home. Steve debated on giving him flowers or not, or a stuff animal. He decided on a stuffed animal because that was more permanent, as Robin had pointed out. They were just about to take their break for lunch when Eddie strolled in.

"Hey," Steve said brightly. "I was just thinking about you."

"Yeah?" Eddie asked and leaned against the counter. "That's good to know."

Eddie leaned forward and planted a kiss on his lips. This time, Steve responded to it, cupping Eddie's face as he deepened the kiss. He could feel Eddie smile against his lips. Steve heard Robin scrambling to lock the front door and close the newly installed blinds. Eddie wrapped his arms around him, nearly climbing over the counter to do it. Finally, Robin coughed loudly and they broke apart.

"Hi," Steve said breathlessly.

"Hi," Eddie said. "I got something for you."

He climbed over the counter and sat down in front of him. He pulled out a rock and handed it to Steve.

"It looks like a guitar pick," Steve said with a grin.

"I thought you could use it for good luck," Eddie said.

"That's very sweet, thank you," Steve said, blushing. "I'm going to keep it forever."

"So, your boyfriend did good?" Eddie asked.

"Boyfriend?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, I know we're taking things slow, but I was hoping that you'd consider me being your boyfriend," Eddie said.

"Yeah, uh, it's just - it might be the concussions, but I don't remember asking you out or you asking me out," Steve said.

"Oh, you definitely asked me out," Eddie said.

"Oh, God, Robin. The doctor said if I started having memory problems - " Steve said with wide eyes. "I'd definitely remember asking you out."

"Honey! I'm sure it's fine!" Eddie exclaimed. "Robin was there, she'll tell you!"

"I was NOT!" Robin yelled, her eyes going wide. "Or was I? Oh, god, what if I hit my head and I don't remember?! I'd remember my best friend asking out a man!"

"Okay, don't panic, Robin, we'll call Hopper - " Steve started to say.

"You really don't remember?!" Eddie shrieked.

"No!" Robin and Steve yelled.

"Seriously, Robin, you were there, and you turned into a giant duck which, by the way, is rude because you know about my fear of ducks!" Eddie yelled.

"Oh, Eddie, goddamnit, was this a dream?" Steve asked.

"You know what? Now that I'm thinking about it, I think it might have been a dream," Eddie said.

"Okay, those looks you've been giving me make a lot more sense," Robin said. "Have you been living in fear of me randomly turning into a duck, like I'm some sort of. . .wereduck?"

"I don't know, your name's Robin, and we've all been through crazy shit. . .anything is possible," Eddie said.

"Aww, and you've hugged me even though you're scared of ducks," Robin cooed.

"Well, it's my fear, my responsibility. It's not your fault," Eddie said and then looked at her. "But you're not, though, right?"

"No, Eddie," she said softly and then affectionately, "You dingus."

"This whole time. . .," Eddie trailed off. "We haven't actually been dating. You never asked me out."

Eddie started to scramble off of the counter when Steve grabbed him and pulled him back.

"Let's fix that. . .Eddie Munson, do you want to be my boyfriend?" Steve asked.

"Fuck yeah, I do," Eddie grinned.

He grabbed the back of Steve’s head and crashed their lips together. Eddie sighed and leaned his forehead against Steve’s.

"No one better fucking wake me up," Eddie breathed and Steve laughed.

"Oh God! I think my nose is turning into a bill - quack, quack!"

"Robin!"

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writtenwhalien · 2 days ago

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a lover's redemption | chapter 3

chapter 3. the new normal

pairing ↠ mafia leader!park jimin x reader

genre ↠ mafia AU — romance/action (angst, fluff, smut)

summary ↠ Blood, business and betrayal is all that Park Jimin has ever known, but when you cross paths again, the stakes are raised even higher and he finds himself battling his conscience, and his heart.

word count ↠ 13.3k

18+ | warnings ↠ drinking, explicit sexual content, violence, all sorts of crime (please see the series masterlist for a complete list of warnings).

taglist is open – dm/comment/send an ask to be added <3

notes ↠ please enjoy and shareeeee xxoxoxox and pls share your thoughts w me as we get into it ;) also in case its not clear, jimin's birth year in the fic is 1995, same as real life, and Y/N is 2 years younger than him. I always put the year for any flashbacks so you can work out how old they are :) any confusion, please let me know (i might make a mistake!) thanks angels! <3

17th July 2009

The heavy scent of cigar smoke lingered in the room, curling around the dark oak furniture. Jimin sat quietly beside his father, his small legs barely brushing the floor. Across from them, Lee Han-Jae exhaled a long puff of his cigar, looking tired.

“They confirmed the crash?” Jihoon asked, his tone devoid of warmth.

Jimin did not know what accident his uncle and father had planned but he knew that his father had been on edge all day because of it.

Han-Jae nodded. “Mostly. But he's gone.” He downed what was left of his drink. “Did we take care of the family?”

Jihoon swirls his glass. “We’ll let them go, they have no one.”

“Except Kija and Min-Baek-hyun,” Han-jae counters.

“They mean nothing to us.”

“But they were loyal to Sehun.”

Upon hearing this, Jimin goes still, realising what’s happened.

“Their loyalty was not just to Sehun but the entire Han family. They will protect them at all costs and they’ve been in this long enough to know not to retaliate if they want to keep themselves safe.”

Han-Jae says nothing else of the matter but his face does little to mask his disapproval. He took another puff of his cigar before he spoke again. “The other two men survived. Escaped before the flames could finish the job. They’re digging through the wreckage, but the police are sniffing around."It seems dental records are proving... inconvenient.”

Jihoon’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. “Inconvenient?” he echoed. “The detectives are a problem?”

Han-Jae waved a dismissive hand. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

“Funny,” Jihoon said, leaning forward slightly. “You said the same thing about the last case they opened. And now I hear whispers about them building something bigger — trafficking charges. Another detective’s on the case, isn’t he?” His tone sharpened. “You’ve been careless, Han-Jae.”

The room tensed, the air thick with unsaid threats. Han-Jae stiffened, his smirk faltering for the briefest moment. “Watch your tongue, Jihoon.”

Jihoon’s lip curled. “You’ve been playing dirty, using our resources to fund your side business."

Han-Jae remained indifferent. "You'll be asking for a share soon. All the pieces are almost complete and this detective is nothing more than a bump in the road. I'll deal with it."

"That's besides the point. I trusted you and you're acting foolishly."

"Foolishly?"

"Is it not?" Jihoon asked, patronising.

Jimin watched as Han-Jae got up wordlessly and walked over to his cabinet. He picked up the decanter and generously poured himself some whiskey.

“I’ve given you more than enough leash,” Jihoon continued, his voice rising. “But if you think I’ll let you drag my name down with yours, think again.”

Han-Jae emptied his glass before he turned, his face a mask of fury. “We’ll talk about this later,” he spat. “We have somewhere to be.”

Jihoon didn’t bother responding. Instead, he turned his attention to Jimin, his gaze cold and commanding. “Get a gun.”

Jimin froze, his blood turning to ice. His lips parted, but no sound came out.

“Now,” Jihoon snapped, his tone sharp enough to cut. "Then meet me by the car."

Jihoon left the room and Jimin followed, his legs moving before his mind could catch up. He went towards the basement, down the stairs and past the training floor, all the way to the locked room at the back. Some of his father's men watched as he walked, but none said a word. Hands trembling, he pressed his thumb to the scanner and waited for the door to unlock, revealing an entire array of weapons lining the walls.

Jimin didn't think. He picked up the first handgun he saw, checked it was loaded and then walked out with the cold metal feeling alien in his grasp, the weight far heavier than he anticipated.

Without realising it, his feet carried him to the kitchen, where his mother stood slicing vegetables. She turned at the sound of his shaky breathing, her eyes immediately softening when she saw the gun in his hands.

“Jimin,” she whispered, crossing the room in an instant. She crouched down in front of him, pulling him into a gentle hug. The faint scent of lavender filled his nose, momentarily drowning out the suffocating reality around him.

“I can’t,” he mumbled against her shoulder. “I can’t do it.”

His mother’s embrace tightened. “I never wanted this for you, Jimin,” she murmured, her voice thick with regret. “I’m so sorry.” She pulled back, brushing his hair from his face with trembling fingers. “But this is your life now. Your father won’t wait. If you don’t go back, he’ll only get angrier.”

Jimin shook his head. “Why do you let him—” His voice broke off and a single tear rolled down his cheek.

"I'm so sorry." Her face crumpled, but she quickly composed herself and closed his fingers around the gun. “You have to go now, before he comes looking for you.”

Reluctantly, he nodded, his small frame trembling as she kissed his forehead and guided him toward the door.

The container yard smelled of damp concrete and iron, the air thick and stifling. As Jimin stepped out of the car, he immediately spotted Kwan and Duri ahead of them.

Jihoon and Han-Jae walked ahead while Taemin and Jimin followed behind. As they went further into the yard, around a dark corner, Jimin glanced at Taemin, hoping for some kind of answer. Taemin, barely older than Jimin, gave a reassuring smile of sorts when Jimin glanced his way, but it did little to make him feel better. Jimin figured he knew where they were going since he and his dad spoke often.

Duri pulled the heavy door of one of the containers open as they approached and both fathers stopped short outside of the container. Han-Jae laughed mirthlessly and they both stepped aside for Jimin and Taemin to see.

Two detectives knelt on the floor, their faces bloodied and swollen, their hands tied tightly behind their backs.

Suddenly, the dead weight of the gun in his hand felt heavy again.

Jihoon glanced over his shoulder. “Stay here,” he ordered both boys.

Taemin, barely older than Jimin, gave a solemn nod but said nothing.

Jihoon stepped into the container, and crouched in front of one of the detectives, his voice low but menacing. “I warned you to stay out of my business. But now, you’re here. What do you have to say for yourself?”

The detective spat at Jihoon’s feet, earning himself a sharp backhand. Jihoon stood, motioning to Jimin. “Come here.”

Jimin hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Now, Jimin."

Taemin looked between them and gently nudged Jimin forward. "Go on," he whispered.

Reluctantly, Jimin got closer, his eyes glued to the ground.

"This man is a threat to us,” Jihoon said, calmly. “End him.”

Jimin’s breath hitched. “I-I can’t—”

Jihoon’s hand lashed out, striking him hard enough to send him stumbling. “You’re weak,” he snarled, stepping close to Jimin and speaking low in his ear. “Your mother’s made you soft.”

Jimin’s head snapped up and he ignored the harsh stinging sensation on his cheek. “Is that why you always send her away?” he asked, teeth gritted. “To keep her away from me?”

Jihoon froze, his face darkening. For a moment, Jimin thought he might strike him again. But instead, Jihoon looked right at Jimin and spoke, his voice icy. “She chooses to leave. Every time she walks out that door, it’s her choice. And it’s time you grew up and realised that.”

Jimin’s grip on the gun tightened, his knuckles white. He didn't look at the man before him but raised his arm, finger closing around the trigger. "You're right," Jimin said, voice low. "It is time I grew up."

The gunshot echoed through the warehouse, the sound ringing in Jimin’s ears long after the man’s body hit the floor.

Jihoon’s voice cut through the haze. “Finally.”

But Jimin didn’t hear him. All he could see was the blood, pooling and spreading across the cold concrete. All he could feel was the weight of his father’s shadow, pressing down on him, suffocating him.

Jihoon glanced at Han-Jae, his lip curling in irritation. “You deal with the other one.”

Han-Jae smiled thinly, his hand settling on Taemin’s shoulder. “Go on, son.”

Taemin hesitated, his youthful face pale under the dim light of the yard's lights. He glanced at Jimin, whose expression was frozen in a mix of horror and detachment, and then back at his father.

Han-Jae’s smile faded. “Do you want to disappoint me?”

The weight of that question hung heavy in the air, and Taemin swallowed hard, but slowly, he stepped forward.

The second detective, bloodied and trembling, began to plead incoherently, his words dissolving into a sob.

Jimin’s stomach churned violently. He couldn’t bear to watch as Taemin raised the gun with far steadier hands than his own, nor could he endure the suffocating tension of the warehouse any longer. His voice was hoarse as he muttered, “I’m going to the car.”

Jihoon turned his head slightly but didn’t object. “Fine. Go.”

The indifference in his father’s voice stung more than any reprimand. Jimin moved toward the exit, his legs unsteady but quickening with each step.

The sound of the gunshot rang out just as he stepped out of the container, the echo chasing him into the night.

The air outside was still warm despite it being well past midnight. Jimin usually loved late summer nights like this but not today. As he walked around the bend, he felt more hot, and the humidity worsened the thick, suffocating tension inside.

He made it only a few steps further before his stomach betrayed him. Rushing over towards a stack of crates, he retched violently. The contents of his dinner surged upwards and all Jimin could hope was that he was far away enough from his dad.

His throat burned, and his body trembled as he leaned a hand against the cold metal for support.

When the heaving subsided, the silence around him felt deafening. His mind was a storm of guilt and revulsion. He could still see the detective’s lifeless eyes in his mind, and worse, as he still held the gun now, he kept imagining his finger was still around the trigger.

“This is your life now,” his mother’s voice echoed in his head, her words a hollow comfort against the growing ache in his chest.

His throat tightened, and for a brief moment, he felt the urge to cry. But the tears didn’t come. They couldn’t — not here, not now. He took a deep breath, forcing air into his lungs until the sharpness of it dulled his emotions. He repeated the motion over and over, steadying himself, quieting the chaos within.

Jimin wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and straightened up. His legs felt heavier than before as he trudged toward the car, but by the time he reached it, his breaths had evened out, and his face was expressionless once more.

Sliding into the back seat, he leaned his head against the window and the chill of the glass grounded him.

As he sat there in silence, the weight of his actions settled like stones in his chest, and he knew this wouldn't be the last time.

Present day

It takes you a while to come to your senses, your fuzzy mind drifting in and out of sleep, telling yourself that you’re dreaming every time your eyes half open to see the surroundings of a room which isn’t yours. Your head sinks back into the feather filled pillow, your breathing is slow and steady and you remain completely still as you wait to wake up in your own bed, in your own home.

But it doesn’t happen.

As you start to focus on the feeling of your chest rising and falling with each breath, your eyes flutter open fully and everything comes rushing back to you. Seojun lying helplessly on your kitchen floor, Minjun and the men flooding your kitchen, Dani and Siho dying to protect you. And Jimin.

The thought of it all hurts your head, and you push the thoughts down, focusing on something else for now. You have many questions and you’ll make sure to get answers, but right now, one thing you’re sure of, is that you’re safe.

Looking around the room you’re in, you faintly recognise the large wooden doors and particular coving style on the walls. You spent more than a few days running around the halls of this estate, hiding and playing in the rooms belonging to the boy you were once friends with — now the man who saved your life…

It hasn’t escaped you, that had Jimin and his men not walked in when they did, Minjun would’ve killed you after he got whatever information he needed from you.

You’ve never forgotten him, and now it seems like an odd sort of fate that you’ve ended up entangled in some kind of mess with him, thanks to Seojun.

There’s definitely something going on, because there must’ve been a reason why Seojun was in your house, why he spent those late evenings at the cafe just trying to have a conversation with you.

Looking next to you on the nightstand, you see your phone and purse, as well as a few of the other items you had in your pocket and your first thought is to call Yoongi. Whatever’s going on, you need to tell him and he might know something too.

There’s also a small bowl of fresh fruit on the nightstand and a bottle of water — a small reminder that you’re safe here.

As you reach for your phone, you feel a mild throbbing pain in your wrist. You almost forgot that Minjun cut you, but the wound is neatly bandaged now. Pushing the sheets back, you look down at your thigh to see it’s also been bandaged and you’re almost certain you’ll find stitches under there. You’re also wearing clothes that aren’t yours — a loose tee and baggy basketball shorts. You don’t remember anything since falling unconscious but you’re sure one of the housemaids must’ve dressed you.

Reaching for your phone again, you expect to see a call from your grandma since she normally calls you every morning, but your home screen shows no notifications except the many security camera notifications which you’re sure must show the events that took place at your home – you might be able to use it to identify a few of the men who were there, Yoongi certainly would be able to help you with that.

Unlocking your phone, you open up your contacts and scroll through to find Yoongi’s name. Just before you can press call, there’s a knock at the door. Pausing, you look up and a few seconds later, the handle turns slowly.

A slim man enters the room, dressed sharply head to toe in a suit… Your eyes widen, and suddenly, everything makes sense.

“Yoongi.”

He smiles, though somewhat apologetically.”Y/N.” Walking over to your bed, he doesn’t hesitate to pull up the chair that sits in front of the dressing table and bring it beside your bed. While your thoughts race, Yoongi sits quietly and waits.

He’s been working for Jimin, of course he has – his dad was close with yours and Jimin, and after your father’s death, his dad, Min Baek-hyun, stayed close with your grandparents and still resides close to your grandma in Namwon, while Yoongi stayed in Seoul. All these years, you’ve stayed close friends with Yoongi, not knowing he was so close with Jimin too – someone you once considered a best friend.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” you ask finally.

“I didn’t want to complicate things,” he murmurs, looking up. As soon as you meet his gaze, you know what he means by that…

You still remember that night, a few months ago, when Yoongi asked you to take out the Cheong men at the warehouse holding the drugs. For the first time, you asked for something in return – for him to help you find who killed your dad. It was the fact that he looked away as soon as you said the words that told you he already knew.

“I need something in return.”

Yoongi lifted his head calmly. “Is everything okay?”

You nodded, placing the key down on the table. “Just, promise me you’ll do it first.”

At this, Yoongi’s expression changed to one of concern and he hesitated.

Meeting his gaze, you said his name. “Please.”

“Alright.” Yoongi shifted, keeping his eyes on you. “I promise.”

There was a moment of silence as you mulled the words over in your head. It had been on your mind for a while, something you’d been considering often for the last few months, since you passed what would’ve been your father’s fifty fifth birthday. Not a day had gone by that you didn't miss him, and you’d known since his death that the last place he was called to, wasn’t a timely coincidence. You may have only been 12 at the time of his death, but your father always taught you to be aware of everything, and you’d noticed the tension between him and his friends for months before that night. Even the fact that you hadn’t seen Jimin in years, and the way Jihoon always disregarded your presence – that is before your father limited their visits to your family home. He was trying to protect you from them.

“I want to know who killed my dad.”

The words felt strange on your tongue – though your dad’s murder wasn’t a secret to you, you didn’t often speak about it so forwardly, especially not to Yoongi.

Concern returned to the lines in his face, brows furrowing as he shook his head and reached for your hand. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

You moved your hand from the table before he could hold it. “You know.”

He paused, eyes flitting down to where your hand was. Releasing a slow sigh, he closed his eyes. “And I think you already know.”

The anger and frustration you’d been holding on to for years began to surface.“It was them, wasn’t it?”

Yoongi looked up. “Y/N–”

“Lee Han-jae? And Park Jihoon?”

Yoongi gave the smallest of nods, and your fist curled in your lap.

“Do you know why?”

“Y/N, please, don’t–”

“You promised, Yoongi.”

Meeting your gaze, Yoongi sighed. “Alright, I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

“Everything.”

So he did…

Na Doyun was a corrupt prosecutor who worked for the Lee’s, keeping them out of trouble as long as they paid her well enough. It was the perfect deal until some of the DA became suspicious of Doyun’s intentions and motivations, and she panicked, demanding more money, as well as a way for her to launder all the funds she was receiving.

The Lee’s had no choice but to comply since she had enough dirt on them to put them away for life, (as well as a supposed contingency plan that would expose them should they try anything to harm her), and so Han-jae developed a nightclub under his name and added Doyun as a majority shareholder, as well as a few others under his influence. It became one of the most popular nightclubs in all of Seoul and the perfect place for any illicit activity,

“The one that closed down months ago?” you asked, vaguely remembering. You were sure you'd followed more than a few unsuspecting victims of Yoongi’s from there on one of your errands for him..

“Yes. They have a few all over Seoul but none as big as that one. And you remember Taemin?”

“Lee’s son?”

“Yes.”

You barely saw Lee Taemin growing up. Though he was close in age to Jimin and you, his father had sent him to school in the United States. There were a few occasions where you were there together but unlike Jimin, he barely spared you more than a glance.

“Closing the club was intentional on their part. Han-jae wanted Taemin to replace it with something much bigger and better.”

“The Benitoite.”

Yoongi nodded. “A clever move on his part. The nightclub was becoming a hot spot and that was risky for them. After years of illegal trading, predatory lending and more, they had to find a way to get rid of any liabilities who used to frequent the club for their own gain, and with the Benitoite, they got the DA off their backs while attracting a whole new world, as well as another way to make their money clean again.” Looking up, Yoongi carried on. “Once that was done, Doyun had nothing left to hold over them.”

“They killed her?”

Another nod.

Your hand tightened around the fob. You couldn’t say you felt bad for the woman, she was corrupt after all and served men doing worse than herself, but it still didn’t make any of this easier to hear.

Yoongi sighed, his hand moving towards yours. “You okay?”

“Fine. Tell me.”

“When that nightclub before the Benitoite first opened, your dad wasn’t opposed to it so he never said anything. But, Jihoon or Han-jae weren’t just abiding by what Doyun wanted, they both saw an opportunity and wanted to run part of the nightclub as a secret brothel for invited guests only, those who would pay enough.”

Yoongi looked up apprehensively, but he saw your expression and continued.

“They knew anyone who knew of them, or had any kind of business with them, feared them, so they used that. If there was anyone who had done them wrong, or owed them money, they offered them a way out. Hundreds and millions worth of debt in exchange for years of service, and they didn’t care who it was.

“A mother, father, son, daughter, brother or sister. Any relation to the person who owed them was good enough and as you can imagine, none of the actual offenders offered themselves so it was all innocent family members being taken in. They would kidnap them and coerce them into working there doing whatever it was that needed to be done too. The whole thing was set up as a way for them to earn honest money to pay back whatever was owed.”

You looked up, repulsed. These are the men you once regarded as your uncles, seeing them as your dad’s friends you thought of them as family while growing up. It’s true that as you got older, you started to feel a certain way towards Jihoon because of how cold he was, especially with Jimin, but this was still beyond anything you would’ve expected of them.

“So that’s why they killed my dad?”

Yoongi shook his head. “Not exactly.” Pausing, he studied your expression for a few seconds before he leaned over the table to grasp your hand. After a gentle squeeze, he let go. “There was a lot happening around that time, I don’t know the details but the way Han-jae and Jihoon saw it, is that your dad became soft. When he first found out about the nightclub he was angry and threatened both of them.”

Your stomach curled.

“They wanted to appease him so they said they would reconsider.”

“But they didn’t.”

“No. And truthfully I don’t think your dad ever believed them anyway.”

It went quiet, the distant humming of car engines along a nearby busy road carried the sound of your thoughts as they ran endlessly.

Yoongi took another sip of his milk, watching you carefully. “Y/N,” he spoke softly. “I can tell you the rest another time.”

You looked across at home, taking a slow breath. You do feel like you’ve heard enough, but you need to know. “What more is there? They killed him after that, no?”

Traces of a grimace appeared on Yoongi’s face. “Not quite.” He paused, waiting.

Wordlessly, you nodded for him to continue.

“Did you know Han-jae was married twice?”

Nodding, you remembered his step-daughter, Jiyoung. She looked after you occasionally, but like Taemin, she wasn’t always there. “Yeah, his first wife passed away but Jiyoung was from her, right?”

“Not exactly, Jiyoung wasn’t Han-jae’s daughter.”

Now, this was news to you.

“And her mom wasn’t a huge fan of Han-jae, their marriage was arranged after her first husband died, and she had plenty of reasons to dislike the man and he felt the same, except she always threatened to expose him.”

The arranged marriage wasn’t a surprise to you, as it was common amongst many of your father’s affluent friends, including your own parents, but you hadn’t known that Han-jae’s first wife despised him.

“After she died, Jiyoung got older, she looked more like her mother, acted more like her, and Han-jae didn’t like her just as much as she didn’t like him, so… he saw an opportunity to get rid of her.”

Eyes widening, you asked, “The nightclub?”

Yoongi nodded, looking down. “But your dad saved her.”

Despite the warm evening breeze, you feel your skin go cold.

Yoongi continues. “He knew something was going on and he happened to be there the night she was being taken. He killed the men and took her away to a safe place, out of the country.”

And just like that, it all made sense. “So that’s why they killed him.”

Taking your hand again, Yoongi nodded silently. “It was a means to an end for them,” he murmured. “Han-jae and Jihoon had changed. They weren’t who your dad befriended and their morals and ambitions were far from the same.”

Yoongi’s words were said to comfort you, but they only fueled your anger… your dad’s closest friends, the men who he regarded as brothers, were the ones who killed him.

That conversation felt like a lifetime ago, and as you see Yoongi sitting in front of you now, you understand why he chose not to tell you, but you can’t help but feel a tiny bit betrayed.

“Still could’ve told me,” you mumble, looking away from him.

“Would it have made a difference to anything?” he asks, leaning forward with a playful smile.

Realising he’s right, you frown indignantly. “Might’ve stopped this,” you say, knowing it’s a weak point.

Yoongi’s expression darkens. Shaking his head slowly, he meets your gaze. “Nothing could’ve stopped this.”

Seojun is the first person that comes to your mind, and you feel your stomach coil.

Reaching to hold your leg over the covers, Yoongi says your name. “You need to tell me everything you know.”

Nodding, you push the mental image of Seojun out of your mind. “I don’t actually know much,” you start, “Seojun had been coming into the cafe around once a week and would talk to me, just small talk. He must’ve known who I was but I didn’t realise until the last time. He seemed worried about something and kept asking me about grandma, and when she called, he’d left and there was a note on the table.” Looking towards the night stand where your belongings are, you see the note you pocketed then, and the drive is there too. You take them both, handing the note to Yoongi. “This is what it said.”

Yoongi takes a few seconds to read the simple words, She’s the only family you have left. You should stay with her. Frowning, Yoongi lowers it to the bed. “He must’ve known, but I don’t know how.” Looking up, he asks, “you never told him anything about your grandma?”

“No,” you shake your head. “He just knew.” Thinking of this, you suddenly remember all those conversations you had with Seojun… he had a girlfriend. “Yoongi?” You meet his gaze with worried eyes. “He had a girlfriend.”

Yoongi’s expression softens, lips pursing. “Yeona. She knows. She lives here with us, she moved in with Seojun a year ago.”

Nodding your head slowly, you look away. You don’t bother asking how she’s doing, that would be a pointless question – you could tell how much Seojun loved her and from the stories he told you, you’re certain she loved him just as much, she must be heartbroken. The thought of it reminds you of the night your dad passed away… you’d never seen your mom in so much pain.

As your emotions begin to swirl heavily again, you look up at Yoongi. “Did he not say anything at all about what he’d been doing?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “We knew he was up to something, but Jimin told us to let him be.” Again, Yoongi’s expression looks pained.

“Why?”

“A few weeks back, Jimin had one of their clubs raided by the police on the same night they were receiving a weapons shipment and there’s since been a good few detectives on their case. Taemin’s uncle got some time in prison for it and even though he’s out, they still wanted to send a message to Jimin, a way to get back at him… so they killed Seojun’s mom.”

The words wound the knot in your stomach even tighter. “So Seojun wanted to get back at them?”

Nodding, Yoongi shakes his head. “Jimin warned him not to, he promised they’d work it out together and end things for once, but Seojun was angry. Once we figured out he was up to something, Jimin told us to leave him and once Seojun had a plan, we’d join in on it.” Releasing a shaky breath, Yoongi looks down. “We never got to find out what it was, and each week we’d see him less and less. Everyone here knows how to look after themselves, but now I wish we’d taken more care.”

Seojun was a friend to everyone here, Yoongi included, you realise. You know you ought to comfort him but you don’t think you know how. “I’m sorry, Yoongi,” you murmur.

He gives a small smile. “Finish telling me what happened.”

Sitting back into the cushions again, you recall the events from that night. “I left work as normal, came home and when I went upstairs, something felt off. So I went back down, and then I saw him in my kitchen, he was bleeding, barely conscious on the floor and I ran over to him. I tried to help him but he kept apologising, and then he gave me this.” Looking down, you hand the drive to Yoongi.

Confused, Yoongi turns it over in his hand. “Did he say what’s on it?”

“No,” you shake your head. “And it’s probably protected too since the Lee’s wanted it as well. But he told me to take it and find Jimin.” At this, Yoongi looks up and meets your gaze. “He kept saying he’d keep me safe and that I should leave him and go.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I couldn’t. He needed help, but it was too late. When I was about to get out, Minjun and some of his men came in. Seojun tried to help me but in the end…” you trail off, looking down. “In the end it was Minjun questioning me, asking me who I am. I lied, of course.” You finish telling Yoongi the rest of what happened, up until when Jimin and his men came in.

When you’re done, Yoongi is cursing under his breath. “Minjun was a fucking psychopath.”

“Yeah, he seems like it,.” You remember the way he laughed when Jimin was punching him.

“He has a brother, Kwan, he’s just as crazy, if not worse.”

The thought of it leaves you shuddering. Minjun was ruthless and you can’t imagine how much worse his brother is. You hope you never have to meet him, although luck hasn’t really been on your side recently.

“Hey,” Yoongi says quietly, moving from his seat to the bed. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

He smiles softly. “Your wrist should be better in a few days, but your leg might take two or three weeks to heal well. I got you some crutches in case you wanna use them.”

“Thanks, I probably won’t use them though.”

“Yeah, I thought you’d say that.”

Smiling at him, you push the sheets back to look at your bound leg. “It’s not deep is it?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “You got lucky. Only an inch or so. Ah, also,” he looks up at you apologetically, “you’ll need to stay here for a while until your house gets fixed.”

“Oh.” You remember how the windows were smashed in as Minjun attacked, and you’re sure there’s more damage to the property that you’re not even aware of.

“Jimin is making all the arrangements,” Yoongi continues, “but he’s trying to keep things quiet so I don’t know exactly when things will be sorted.”

“He doesn’t have to, I can do it myself.”

“He wants to,” Yoongi responds. “He blames himself for what’s happened, so just let him please.” His words appear to carry more meaning, and you can’t imagine how he must feel after seeing Seojun dead. You still remember the look on his face when he saw the body.

“Why?”

“He blames himself for a lot of things,” Yoongi murmurs with a soft sigh. “This hasn’t helped.”

Even though it’s been years since you were close with Jimin, you still find yourself feeling a familiar twinge in your chest – ever since you’ve known him, Jimin has had to suffer so much hurt, you couldn’t even count on your hand the amount of times you saw him looking so defeated and terrified in front of his father. He seemed to prefer the company of Lee Han-jae over his own father, although you don’t know how much better Han-jae was as a father since his son, Taemin, was in America most of the time to study. All you know is how he treated Jiyoung.

Now, curiosity (or care) gets the better of you, and you ask, “What happened between them? Han-jae and Jihoon?”

Yoongi looks up, grimacing. “It started with money. Han-jae got greedy and wanted the Benitoite to be only his, but Jihoon insisted it belong to them both since the nightclub was half his effort, though he never really cared for the extra money, he just needed the front. Han-jae reluctantly agreed but it was clear he wasn’t happy.

“And then Jihoon found out that Han-jae planned on going behind his back and he got angry. Han-jae was drunk one night and started threatening Jihoon, which only made him more angry. But before he could do anything, Taemin stepped in and shot him.”

“Taemin?!” you ask, surprised..

Yoongi nods. “He knew of his dad's plan for the Benitoite and he wasn’t fond of Jihoon, so he did what he had to to protect his dad. But Jimin was there.” His expression darkens. “He watched his best friend shoot his dad, who was bleeding out in front of him. I’m so grateful we were with him that day…” He trails off, exhaling as he looks down.

He doesn’t need to say anymore for you to know what he means – Taemin was going to have Jimin killed too.

Your head lowers too. You don’t allow your thoughts to wonder what would’ve happened if Jimin had been alone, you’re just glad he got out. Though you can’t imagine what he must’ve felt given his relationship with Jihoon.

“Did he get to have a funeral for his dad?”

“Yeah,’ Yoongi answers. “Han-jae had just lost another one of his friends and the blood was on his hands, so he sent the body back to Jimin and tried to make amends, but Jimin wasn’t having it. He was already against everything they were doing and now that his dad had gone and he’d lost Taemin as a friend, he had no reason to keep ties with them.”

Leaning back into the cushions, you mull over everything he’s just said. For years, you stayed away from these families who were such a big part of your life growing up, and now you learn that they’ve fallen apart as well.

After a moment, Yoongi speaks again. “I was surprised when they brought you in.” You look up at him as he continues. “I thought he might’ve recognised you, but he said nothing.”

“Do you think he does?” you ask, remembering the look on his face when he first saw you. “But he’s just not saying it?”

Yoongi shrugs. “Might be. If he does remember you though, he’ll say something.”

“Are you going to tell them?” you ask, looking at him.

“Only if you want me to.”

After a few quiet seconds, you shake your head. “At least not yet.”

Yoongi nods and it goes quiet again. You close your eyes, leaning against the headboard as you think back on everything that’s happened, and then it comes to you.

“Dani and Siho,” you say, opening your eyes again as a heavy weight settles on your chest. “Did you get them out?”

Solemnly, Yoongi nods. “I sent them back to their families and have offered to make all the necessary arrangements for anything else they need.”

“Thank you,” you murmur. “Let me know what they say, I’ll sort it out for them..”

Yoongi nods again, pursing his lips as this time he reaches forward to take your hand and comfort you. “They knew the risks, Y/N, better than anyone else.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But it’s different, they were there because of me.”

“Yeah, but they made that choice, they wanted to fight for you,” Yoongi says, shifting on the bed. When you look at him, he winces slightly. “Sorry if this isn’t helping, you know I’m shit at comforting people.”

You smile. “I know.”

“Hey, you’re not any better though,” he says defensively, “you didn’t even hug me properly when my mom passed away.”

“What?” you chuckle. “I tried to, but I know you don’t like hugs.”

Yoongi shrugs. “Not normally, but then I would've liked it.”

“Oh…” Now you feel bad. “Really?”

He nods, only looking up at you when you fail to respond. Seeing your face, he smiles. “It’s okay though, I got lots of hugs from the guys here.”

Scoffing, you absentmindedly pull the covers over your legs again, feeling cold from the aircon. “Yeah, you’re telling me Park Jimin was giving out hugs?” It comes out sarcastically and without much thought.

“Yes, actually,” Yoongi answers simply.

Pausing, you realise what you said and his response. You don’t know why you feel surprised when the Jimin you knew was nothing but caring and considerate towards others, oftentimes more than he was towards himself.

As though he can read your mind, Yoongi smiles. “Surprised?”

“Kind of.”

“You knew him though,” he says, as though that makes it so obvious.

“Knew,” you repeat. “I didn’t expect him to still be the same.”

Yoongi hums in agreement. “I wouldn’t say he’s changed, but I wouldn't exactly say he’s the same either…” looking up, he smiles again. “I guess you’ll get to see for yourself now.”

“I guess so,” you say, reaching for an apple from the bowl beside you. Seeing Jimin again has been weird, but you can’t ignore the part of you that is ready to welcome a part of your old life back, someone familiar, someone you liked very much. Like Yoongi said though, you’ll get to see for yourself if he’s anything like you remember him. Although you were both younger then, you don’t think he would’ve changed much from what Yoongi has told you so far.

“D’you want something a bit more filling than that?” Yoongi asks, nodding to the apple you’ve just bitten into. “Dinner is just about to be served so you can come down to eat or I can bring it up for you?”

“Oh, yeah, actually,” you answer, hearing your stomach growl after receiving a tiny morsel of food. “I am quite hungry, so I think I'll come down.”

“Sure,” Yoongi chuckles, “you must be hungry, you’ve been sleeping for almost three days.”

You look up at him with wide eyes. “Three days?!” When he nods, you immediately reach for your phone. “I need to call Moni, she’s probably wo–”

“I already have,” Yoongi says, interrupting you quietly.

Fingers freezing over her name, you look up at Yoongi. “What?”

“I already called her.”

A frown settles on your face. “What did you say?”

Yoongi has always been aware of your wish to keep everything hidden from your grandma, so he hesitates now, knowing this would be your response when he told you he called her. “Everything, but Y/N, she needed to know.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make.”

“I know,” Yoongi sighs. “Sorry.”

For a moment, it goes quiet and you lower your phone to the covers. Yoongi is right, she did need to know about this, and it’s not like she’s a stranger to this kind of stuff. Besides, what happened wasn’t related to any of the stuff you’ve been doing for Yoongi, which is what you always wanted to keep from her, and what’s happening now does seem to involve you, and therefore her.

“Sorry,” you say. “You’re right, I just didn’t…” you sigh, trailing off as you think about how worried she must be. Your grandma is a strong woman and you’re everything to her, just as she has been yours.

“I know,” Yoongi says, understanding what you mean without you saying it; he knows your grandma well enough too.

“What did she say?”

“First, she just wanted to know if you were safe,” Yoongi answers. “After that, she didn’t say much except that she’ll come as soon as she can.”

You nod. Knowing she’s coming brings a smile to your face, you’ve missed her a lot. Before you can respond, your stomach growls again.

“Come on,” Yoongi says smiling, getting up and pushing the covers back, “let’s get you some food.”

“You still remember it?” Yoongi asks, a tone of surprise in his voice.

Taking another step, you shrug. “I wasn’t that little when I was last here, I must’ve been, what, eleven? Twelve?”

“Hm, Yoongi hums. “Still impressive.” He keeps a hand hovering around you should you need him, but you’re doing just fine, walking slowly down the hall you recognise as being the third floor.

The Park Estate isn’t much different from what you remember. The estate sprawled across acres, is a masterfully designed blend of elegance and practicality. The entrance opens to a grand foyer, splitting into two distinct wings. The East Wing houses the biggest office which used to belong to Jihoon, and now you assume it would be Jimin’s. It’s flanked by a suite of offices, all of which are bathed in polished woods and leather tones, belonging to his closest men. The West Wing, larger and more personal, feels more like a home. It rises three floors (taking the space above the East Wing) to accommodate the family’s quarter’s on the top most floor, a lounge and other rooms on the second, and downstairs is a dining room, a sleek kitchen caters to formal gatherings and another lounge.

Yoongi points out his room as you pass it, as well as naming some of the other guys whose names you try to pay attention to as you ignore the mild pain that spreads through your leg.

As you approach the stairwell, you notice another dimly lit corridor leading off the main hallway. You can’t see anything down the corridor as you pass, only a wall with light coming from the left and you assume it continues on.

“Jimin’s room is down there,” he says, answering your unspoken question.

“Ah,” you nod, carrying on. It makes sense for his room to be separate from the rest.

The second floor has a few extra guest bedrooms which are rarely used, and a private lounge which is different to what you remember, with a huge balcony that overlooks the gardens and the furniture has changed from mostly dark colours to a much warmer colour palette.

Downstairs, the split between the East Wing, and the West Wing is much more noticeable. The entrance to the West Wing from the grand foyer is always guarded and behind is a much more private hallway with more guards at the end for extra security, and the only way to go upstairs is from the two staircases within the West Wing. The staircase you’re approaching now takes you downstairs where the kitchen is.

As you approach the stairwell, you freeze, your eyes landing on a painting hung up on the wall at the far end of the hall. Yoongi says your name as you begin to walk towards it, but you don’t respond as an old memory suddenly returns to your mind, from the night your father was murdered.

“Lightning… is it a storm?” you asked, standing next to your dad in front of the easel.

“Yes,” he said, ruffling your hair with his elbow as his hands were smudged with paint.

“What does it mean?”

“Sometimes it can mean power,” he answered, turning back to the canvas in front of him. “But sometimes it can also mean punishment.”

You looked up, frowning.

He smiled. “Sometimes, too much power isn’t a good thing. If you’re not a good person, then it can be dangerous.”

“Oh…” You looked back at the canvas, admiring the deep shades of blue and black and grey he’d used to paint the night sky. In the centre, a spear of light struck the violent waves of the sea below. “Who is it for?” you asked.

Your dad’s smile disappeared as he looked back at the canvas. “An old friend.”

The painting is just as vivid as you remember, and seeing it now brings tears to your eyes as you feel a bout of nostalgia.

“My dad painted this,” you say quietly as Yoongi joins you in front of the huge canvas.

He doesn’t say anything, but instead looks up at the painting, admiring it in its entirety as though he’s never seen it before. “It’s beautiful.”

Nodding, you blink a few times to get rid of the stinging sensation in your eyes.. You realise now that Park Jihoon was the old friend your dad mentioned; realising he called him an ‘old friend’, you know your father must’ve known in those months leading up to his death that he couldn’t trust Han-jae and Jihoon.

Just then, Yoongi’s phone vibrates in his pocket. Reading a text, he quickly excuses himself. “Come down if you can, or I’ll ask someone to come up,” he calls out as he’s already walking off towards the stairwell.

“Okay,” you answer absentmindedly, still looking at the painting.

It’s not often you allow yourself to dwell on the past, but it’s also not often that you find yourself face to face with things that remind you so much of the past. There’s a reason your grandma decided to leave Seoul all those years ago and it’s a decision you agreed with. Even when you moved back to Seoul, you knew you couldn’t return to your old home, not when all you had there was fond memories of a life that was so unfamiliar to you now. But now, standing in front of your father’s own hand painted work, a flood of memories return and you find it harder to fight the lump that settles stubbornly in your throat.

You don’t realise you’re standing there for long until you hear someone approaching behind you. Turning around, you recognise the man approaching you as one of the ones who were with Jimin that night at your home. He smiles as he comes to a stop beside you.

“Admiring the art?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you hum, still watching his face – you didn’t realise then but now you see just how handsome he is, you feel like you can’t stop staring.

He chuckles, glancing at the painting. “You know I was talking about the painting, not me?”

Shaking out of your daze, you smile. “Yes, sorry. I just recognised you from the other night.”

“Ah, yeah, sorry we had to meet in such a way,” he nods, still smiling. “I’m Seokjin, but call me Jin.” He extends his hand which you shake.

“Y/N, and it’s okay, not your fault.”

“How’s the wrist?” he asks, pointing to your wrist.

“Oh, it’s okay,” you answer, lifting your arm for him to see. You can still move your fingers fine, just the occasional stretch or twist of your wrist hurts.

“Good. And the leg?”

“It’s mostly fine,” you nod.

He smiles again. “That’s good. Your wrist will heal fast, the leg might take a few weeks but it’s looking good so far. I didn’t expect you to be up so soon though,” he adds, raising a brow as though impressed.

You shrug.

“I take it this isn’t your first time getting hurt like this?” Seokjin says casually.

“What makes you think that?”

“You didn’t flinch that night, when we all aimed our guns at you. And the way you handled your own gun…” he shakes his head, smiling. “It definitely wasn’t your first time, and no normal person would point their gun at a mafioso at that.”

Chuckling, you turn back towards the painting again. “I guess I like getting shot at.”

“Just like everyone else here,” he laughs. “Well, you must be hungry, Yoongi asked me to walk down with you.”

“Sure,” you nod, turning away from the painting. You can return to it later. “So what about you?” you ask Seokjin as you approach the stairwell.

He watches carefully as you descend the first few steps. “What about me?”

“This definitely isn’t your first time stitching someone up,” you remark.

“Ah,” he nods. “Definitely not.”

You have to pause, reaching out for the banister to continue on. “So you’re a doctor?”

He snorts, stepping along beside you. “No, but I should be. I’ve done this kind of stuff enough times.”

Smiling, you know his statement is true enough. Injuries like yours must be a regular occurrence in the Park household. Stepping onto the landing, you take a breather and sit on the bottom step for a moment before you continue on. At the same time, you hear hurried footsteps running towards you and Seokjin.

“Jin hyung!” A bubbly voice sounds from down the corridor. You look towards the source and see two men who you recognise from that night – the man bun guy and the slender brown haired one behind him. They can’t see you sitting on the bottom step but as they get closer, Jin nods in your direction, turning their attention to you.

They both smile warmly when they see you, bowing their heads.

“Oh, miss L/N,” the first one comes forward, extending a hand. “I’m Jungkook, nice to meet you.” He has an adorable bunny smile and you can’t help but return it with one of your own.

“Nice to meet you Jungkook,” you reply, shaking his hand. “And you can call me Y/N.”

“Y/N, got it,” he nods, taking a step back so his other friend can greet you properly.

“Hi, Y/N, I’m Hoseok, Hobi for short,” he grins, shaking your hand.

“Hey.” You return his handshake, feeling slightly taken aback by how relaxed these guys are compared to their stoic looks from when you first saw them. Jungkook looks like a bunny rabbit in human form, and Hoseok beams like a ray of sunshine.

“How are you feeling?” Hoseok asks, motioning towards your leg.

“Um, it’s okay,” you smile. “I can still walk at least.”

He smiles with you, helping you as you start to get up. “Will you be joining us for dinner?”

You hum in response, allowing Seokjin to continue walking beside you as Jungkook walks ahead, leading you to the extensive lounge.

Distractedly, you look around the familiar room. The coffee table you’re sitting at is still the same as it was when you used to have extra helpings of dessert with Jimin, secretly given to you by the housemaid who had a soft spot for Jimin. Being here reminds you so much of your father too, and knowing how much of a huge part of his life this family was makes you miss him dearly.

Before any of the guys notice you’re not tuned into the conversation, you return your attention to what they’re saying. It hasn’t escaped you that none of them have said anything about your identity, and you reckon it must be because Jimin hasn’t recognised you – if he did, surely he would’ve told these guys since they were there too. You’re not sure if they know anything at all about you – perhaps you should’ve asked Yoongi about that before you came down.

Whether they know anything or not though, they keep the conversation away from anything that would involve you from sharing too much, and you realise now, how their warm smiles and easy conversation is a stark contrast to the tense memory you have of first meeting them the other day. However, there’s some missing.

“Are there more of you?”

Jin, in the middle of swallowing a big sip of water, nods and hums.

Hoseok answers for him. “There’s Yoongi, who you saw already, and Taehyung, Namjoon and Jimin.”

“They were there the other day,” Jungkook says, his tone dimming slightly.

“Namjoon and Taehyung will be joining us,” Jin adds, ignoring the last comment and keeping up his chipper attitude. “We always eat together whenever we can and they’re about somewhere.”

It doesn’t escape you that he didn’t mention Jimin’s name though.

“Taehyung is probably in the wine cellar,” Hoseok says.

“Ah, yes, Taehyung loves to pick out the wine for dinner.”

Jungkook snorts. “He thinks he’s a sommelier.”

You smile. “Well, does he make a good choice?”

“I can never tell,” Jungkook shrugs.

Hoseok jerks a thumb in his direction. “He’s not matured enough.”

“Hey!” Jungkook starts, but is interrupted by Jin, glancing toward the doorway.

“Ah, speak of the devil!”

You look up and see two more men entering. One has dark curls and sharp features, his posture relaxed but his gaze calculating as it sweeps over the room. The other one has dark grey hair and broad shoulders, wearing glasses that give him a sophisticated air. You recognise both of them from the other day.

“Yoongi said you’d come down,” the man with dark curls remarks as he approaches. His tone is calm, and a slight smile plays on his lips. “I’m Taehyung. Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Hi, Taehyung,” you reply, shaking his hand. His grip is firm but not overbearing. He’s undeniably striking, and there’s something about his presence that feels both inviting and enigmatic.

The broad man steps closer, adjusting his glasses as he nods at you. “I’m Namjoon. I handle most of the boring work around here.” His smile is disarming, and his voice carries a hint of dry humour. “Finances, logistics, making sure this place doesn’t fall apart.”

“Nice to meet you, Namjoon,” you say, shaking his hand. His words make you curious about just how much he handles behind the scenes.

Namjoon takes a seat in the armchair across from you and sinks into it comfortably. “How are you? I imagine this isn’t how you thought your day would go.”

You smile wryly, keeping your responses guarded. “Not exactly, no.”

Taehyung sits down next to Jungkook and returns his attention to you immediately. “Yeah, you put up quite the fight. Most people would’ve frozen in your position.”

“Not the first time I’ve had to defend myself,” you reply simply, not offering much else.

There’s a beat of silence as they all exchange glances, clearly intrigued but not pressing further. You appreciate the lack of prying.

“So,” Hoseok pipes up with an ever-cheerful tone. “Yoongi mentioned you might like spicy food. We had the chef prepare something special just in case.”

“Spicy works for me,” you say, grateful for the change in subject.

Jungkook claps his hands together. “Great! That makes two of us. The food here is amazing – you’ll love it.”

As the conversation shifts to lighter topics, you glance around the room again. The faces around the table are new, but the setting is steeped in nostalgia. Flashes of your childhood in this house flit through your mind – running down these halls, playing games late into the night, and the quiet presence of your father when he was here.

You force yourself to focus, tuning back into the conversation just as Seokjin asks, “So, Y/N, what’s your impression of the estate so far?”

“It’s... different,” you reply honestly, but keep your tone light. “Bigger than I remember.”

Seokjin tilts his head. “You’ve been here before?”

You curse yourself for slipping up but recover quickly. “Not this one exactly. Just a similar setup.”

Namjoon raises a brow but doesn’t say anything else, and you’re thankful for the reprieve.

The door from the far end of the room opens, and an older woman with an apron tied around her waist steps in, carrying a pitcher of water. Her hair is neatly pinned back, and her face is composed but kind. You immediately recognize her – Ara, one of the housemaids from your childhood.

Your eyes meet for a brief moment, and something flickers in her expression. She knows who you are. You’re certain of it. But to your surprise, she doesn’t say a word. Instead, she places the pitcher on the coffee table and begins pouring water into the glasses.

“Thanks, Ara,” Jungkook says warmly, and she nods with a small smile.

When she reaches you, she hesitates ever so slightly before pouring the water, her gaze lingering on you. You hold her gaze for a beat, searching her face for any sign that she might say something, but she doesn’t. Instead, she finishes and steps back, her expression carefully neutral.

“If you need anything, let me know,” Ara says softly, glancing at the rest of the table before leaving the room.

Namjoon watches her leave, then turns back to you with a faint smile. “She’s been here for a long time. Reliable, like everyone else here.”

You nod, trying to mask the unease and nostalgia that her presence has stirred up.

On the opposite side of the room, Yoongi comes in from the corridor you came through. With a smile at you, he then nods at everyone. “Dinner’s ready. Let’s eat before Jungkook inhales the entire table.”

Jungkook laughs, not bothering to deny the accusation. Everyone rises from their seats, and Yoongi gestures for you to follow them to the adjoining dining room.

"Taeheyung, did you choose a bottle for dinner then?" Hoseok asks.

"Of course. It’s spicy food so I brought up a Riesling."

"Nice one," Yoongi murmurs in approval.

"I want a beer," Jungkook says, with no regards to Taehyung's expression.

"More for us then."

As you walk, Namjoon falls into step beside you. “You’ll find this place can be both a refuge and a maze,” he says softly. “It’s easy to get lost, but it has its charms.”

You glance at him, wondering if there’s a deeper meaning to his words. “I’ll try not to get lost, then.”

He smiles faintly. “If you do, just call out. Someone will find you.”

Returning the smile, you find that any uneasiness you'd been feeling, begins to dissipate. It’s clear these men, while different in personality, share a bond that goes beyond mere loyalty to Jimin. You can see why they’ve been by his side for so long – they feel like a family in their own right.

Once everyone is seated at the table, conversation flows more freely and the atmosphere is surprisingly warm. Jin sits at one end of the table, serving himself a generous helping of the roasted chicken and rice dish.

“Jin-hyung, don’t hog all the drumsticks,” Jungkook whines as he watches Jin’s plate pile up.

“Then grab faster,” Jin quips with a smirk, not slowing his pace.

Taehyung leans back with an amused grin, observing the chaos. “I’m telling you, Jungkook, he does this every time. You should know better by now.”

“Should I?” Jungkook huffs dramatically. “Maybe next time I’ll just take the whole plate first.”

“Do it, and I’ll poison your portion,” Jin deadpans, but with a twinkle in his eye.

Hoseok chuckles as he passes you the salad bowl. “Don’t worry, Y/N. They act like this every meal. You get used to it.”

You smile faintly, watching them banter. It’s strange to see these men, who just days ago were all sharp glares and deadly precision, behaving like siblings teasing each other.

“Y/N,” Taehyung’s deep voice pulls you out of your thoughts. “Do you always eat so quietly? Or are you just plotting something?”

You blink at him, caught off guard. His face is serious, but his lips twitch with suppressed amusement.

“Maybe I’m just afraid to get between Jin and his drumsticks,” you reply lightly.

Laughter ripples around the table, and Taehyung raises his glass in salute. “Smart answer.”

Jungkook grins at you between bites of food. “Yeah, but next time, you should at least try to grab a piece before Jin wipes out the whole plate.”

“I heard that,” Jin retorts, mock-offended. “I’m ensuring quality control.”

“You’re ensuring there’s nothing left for the rest of us,” Hoseok counters, sipping his water.

As the banter continues, you allow yourself to relax a little. It’s a stark contrast to what you expected when you first woke up in the Park estate.

“By the way, hyung,” Namjoon says, turning to Jin. “Have you checked the medical inventory reports? They were due yesterday.”

“Oh, are we doing shop talk at the table now?” Jin sighs dramatically. “Can’t a guy just eat in peace?”

“It’s your own fault for procrastinating,” Namjoon replies smoothly, adjusting his glasses.

“Don’t drag me into your world of schedules,” Jin retorts. “I’m a free spirit.”

“You’re just lazy,” Jungkook interjects, earning a flick of a bread roll from Jin.

“Enough guys,” Hoseok says, raising his hands in mock exasperation.

Namjoon’s phone buzzes on the table, followed immediately by Hoseok’s. They both glance at their screens, and their smiles fade slightly. Exchanging a look, they nod in unison before standing up.

“Sorry, something’s come up,” Namjoon says, sliding his phone into his pocket. “We’ll catch up later.”

“Don’t eat all the dessert without us,” Hoseok adds with a wink as they head out.

“Like we’d wait for you,” Jin calls after them before turning his attention back to the table.

“Do they always leave like that?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Pretty much,” Taehyung replies, leaning back in his chair. “They’ve got the busiest jobs out of all of us. It’s a miracle they even sit down for meals sometimes.”

“Or they just like to be mysterious,” Jin adds, rolling his eyes. “Half the time, it’s probably nothing.”

You smile, but you feel the weight behind it all. These men might act carefree, but there’s no denying the underlying layers to their lives.

After a while, another two housemaids quietly enter to clear some of the empty dishes.

“You okay?” Taehyung asks, drawing your attention back to the table. “You’ve been pretty quiet.”

You nod, brushing it off. “Just tired, I guess.”

“Understandable,” Jin says, rising from his seat. “You should rest. Recovering from an injury takes time.”

The others murmur in agreement as they begin to disperse, leaving you with a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. The warmth of their camaraderie is undeniable, but beneath it all, you can’t shake the feeling of what’s happened, and what is undoubtedly yet to come.

Only Yoongi remains at the table. He sits across from you and smiles. “It’s bringing back memories, huh?” He asks, seeing right through you.

“Yep.” You look around. “Loads. I don’t know how this might sound, but it feels like I missed it.” You look across at Yoongi, expecting to see a puzzled expression but he just smiles.

“I think it’s normal. You were young when you came here and I don’t think you have many bad memories associated with the place. Only good ones, right?”

He’s right. Back then, coming here usually meant evenings filled with laughter, hiding in closets with Jimin, and Jiyoung’s occasional teasing if she was here. Your dad was still alive, and this house, in a strange way, felt like an extension of home. Now, it’s like walking through a memory you can’t decide if you’re grateful for or aching to forget.

You smile softly at Yoongi and nod, letting the silence stretch as you stand. He doesn’t press you further, only watching as you cross the room to the wide, cushioned window seat at the far end. The large pane of glass offered a view of the front of the house. Settling into the seat, you lean against the frame, your gaze drifting outward.

Outside, the estate is alive with movement. Men are stationed around the house, their presence a constant reminder of the life you’re now steeped in. From the East Wing, you spot four men climbing into a sleek black Escalade. Then your attention shifts to the house’s front steps, where Namjoon and Hoseok emerge, walking with purpose.

Behind them, another figure appears and you recognise him instantly.

Jimin, dressed sharply from head to toe, walks across the front drive. He pauses briefly in front of his Porsche, glancing back toward Hoseok, who says something you couldn’t hear. A moment later, Hoseok and Jin climb into the car, and Jimin gets into the driver’s seat. The engine roars softly to life, and within moments, his Porsche is gliding down the private lane, the Escalade following closely behind.

Your gaze lingers on the lane until the cars disappear into the distance. Though you can’t see the estate’s gate from here, you can picture it clearly in your mind – a familiar marker from years ago.

“Where are they going?” you ask without turning, your voice quiet but curious.

“Something’s wrong with one of the shipments we received from the Takahashis. They’ve been a bit of a pain these past few months. Jimin reckons they’re now involved with the Lees and are trying to keep us distracted.”

You hum in response, saying nothing more, but your eyes stay fixed on the far-off trees that bordered the estate. Centred in front of the west wing, a fountain catches your attention, its centrepiece intricate and elegant. It reminds you of the one in Jimin’s mother’s garden and absently, you wonder if that fountain was still there.

As you shift, a sharp pang shoots through your leg, where the knife wound throbs dully. Your wrist isn’t much better, but the pain in your leg is what makes you wince audibly.

Yoongi notices immediately, his gaze darting toward you. “I think you’re due for your meds again.”

You exhale softly, nodding. “Yeah, I think so.”

“You wanna stay here or go back up?”

You push yourself to stand, biting back a groan as the strain makes your voice tight. “Mm, I know I slept for days, but I’m actually still exhausted.”

Yoongi chuckles, rising to help steady you. “That’s to be expected. Don’t worry.” He gestures toward the far end of the room. “We’ll go up, but this time we’re taking the lift.”

You can’t help but smile faintly at his consideration. “Appreciate that,” you murmur as he slides a steadying arm under yours.

The dim light of the ensuite glows behind you as you step into the bedroom, a towel draped over your head. You had just woken up after another long nap, your internal clock utterly thrown off by the days of rest. It's late now, just past midnight and the night is quiet, broken only by the faint rustle of fabric and the soft padding of your feet on the carpet.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you absentmindedly rub the towel through your damp hair.

Your gaze drifts to the shelves by the dresser table, now stocked with an array of skin and hair care products. A small smile tugs at your lips as you stand to examine them, fingers lightly trailing over the meticulously arranged items. Appreciatively, you sit and carry out a full skin and hair care routine – after three days without it, you definitely need it. You wonder if it was Ara who must have put them here. You're certain she recognised you at dinner and when you think about it now, you think it would be nice to speak with someone familiar.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the buzz of your phone on the bed. Turning, you see the screen light up with an incoming FaceTime call. The name on the screen sends a swell of emotion through you.

“Moni?” you answer, settling back on the bed as your grandmother’s face appeared.

The sight of her brings a pang of guilt and relief all at once. Her tired eyes search your face and you can tell she must have been worrying nonstop. “Y/N,” she says softly, her voice warm. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” you reassure her quickly, though your heart aches knowing she must have been so anxious. “Really.”

She gives you a sharp look, the kind only she can manage, and her tone turns brisk. “Good. Stay safe there, you hear me? We're figuring out what's going on and Yoongi will tell you more when he can."

You nod, knowing better than to argue. Her expression softened just a little as she continued. “Tell me about Jimin.”

“He hasn’t said anything.”

“About recognizing you?” she asks, her brow lifting slightly.

You nod. “Nothing.”

She sighs, a mixture of fondness and exasperation crossing her features. “I don’t imagine he would. But I have no doubt he does. You haven’t changed much. He, however... he’s different.”

Her words hang in the air, and you find yourself looking up, your thoughts turning to Jimin.

“Life hasn’t been kind to him,” she continues, her voice tinged with melancholy. “When I last saw him, I didn’t see the same little boy I knew.”

A bittersweet smile crosses your lips. “Life hasn’t been kind to any of us.”

Your grandmother purses her lips, acknowledging the truth of your words. “Do you remember his father?”

“Of course I do,” you say without hesitation. “It’s hard to forget a man as cold as him.”

“And Mr. Lee?” she asks, her tone cautious.

You nod, already anticipating where this was headed. “I know, Moni,” you say quietly, cutting her off.

She looks up at you, her expression briefly surprised, but it fades just as quickly. "Of course, I should have expected you would piece it together."

“I know it was them,” you say, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. “They did it. They killed Dad.”

She lets out a slow breath, her gaze steady on yours. “They were his best friends,” she says softly. “And then, all of a sudden…” She trails off.

You nod. You can only imagine that the sting of betrayal is still fresh even after all these years. Your grandmother's gaze remains on you, sharp and searching. “You’re there now, though… so, do you trust Jimin?”

You pause, memories of the night at your house flashing through your mind -- seeing Jimin in your kitchen with your gun aimed at him and he didn't retaliate in the slightest.

“I didn’t, at first,” you admit. “But I think I do. Besides, I trust Yoongi, and Yoongi trusts him."

She exhales slowly, relief evident on her face and a small smilw touches her lips. “You’re safe there, Y/N.”

You tilt your head slightly, meeting her gaze. “You trust Jimin?”

“I do,” she says without hesitation. “I trust him with you, and you’re my everything.”

The words wrap around your heart, and you wish you could reach through the screen to hug her. Instead, you nod and smile.

“You need to rest,” she instructs, her tone turning firm again. “I’ll call you later. Baek-hyun and I might come to see you. I think he wanted to see Yoongi too.”

Your lips quirk up at the thought. “That would be nice.”

"Good," she nods, and you eventually exchange goodbyes.

As the screen goes dark, you set the phone down, feeling a renewed sense of comfort. The thought of her visiting makes you smile softly as you sit in the quiet of the room.

Still restless though, you wander to the window, gazing out at the sprawling grounds bathed in the moonlight. You spot three men stationed at the back of the house, conversing together as they keep watch. The gardens stretch endlessly, just as you remembered. You can’t see the part of the grounds where Jimin’s mother’s garden would have been as it's hidden beyond the trees, but it would be nice to visit it tomorrow when the light returned.

As you shift, you feel your leg still aches, but it's different this time, more like the dull stiffness of inactivity than pain. Restless energy courses through you, and you decide a walk would do you good. The house is big enough and you need to keep your legs moving.

Stepping out of your room, you close the door quietly behind yourself and hear the faint hum of distant voices and sounds that tells you that not everyone is asleep yet.

As you move through the corridors, memories of Jimin filtered into your mind -- moments you hadn’t thought of in years now rising to the surface with startling clarity and they give you a strange sense of familiarity.

Eventually, your wandering brings you to your dad's painting again. You stop in front of it, the vivid strokes of lightning and sea send a wave of nostalgia over you, gratitude mingling with sadness. You remember you have a few of your father's paintings hanging up at home too and you make a mental note to ensure they're safely retrieved.

“Can’t you sleep, little bear?”

The voice, familiar and gentle, pulls you from your reverie. You turn to see Jimin standing a few feet away.

Dressed casually now, his white shirt unbuttoned at the top and his sleeves rolled up, he looks markedly different from the composed figure you saw earlier. There’s a softness to him now, something that reminds you of the boy you once knew. His smile, small and tentative, feels as though it might disappear if the silence breaks too loudly.

You smile back, and the corners of his lips lift a little more.

Realising what he just said, his words stop you short – it’s the name of the book you gave to him the first time you met him, so many years ago.

Jimin steps closer, the lamp’s dim light casting soft shadows on his features. As he nears, the subtle scent of his cologne reaches you – a delicate blend of cedarwood and something faintly sweet, familiar yet grounding. It lingers in the air between you, quietly drawing your attention to his presence. Despite the weariness evident in his eyes, there’s a steadiness about him, a calmness that feels both reassuring and disarming.

“Y/N,” he says, your name leaving his lips quietly, as though testing how it feels after all these years. “Did you think I wouldn’t recognise you?”

“I wasn’t counting on it,” you admit, your voice soft. “I’m surprised you remember the book.”

Jimin’s smile grows, faint but genuine. “How could I not? I never got to thank you for it properly.”

“Thank me?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

He nods, shifting as if the memory is a tender one. “It was a comfort to me for a long time. I wasn’t allowed picture books of my own, so… thank you.”

You remember then how he once told you about his father’s strict rules. A cold man, his father likely saw no value in picture books – if they didn’t teach something useful, they weren’t worth having.

“You’re welcome,” you say softly.

Jimin’s gaze lingers on your face, and you feel a warmth creeping into your cheeks. Turning back to the painting, you focus on the familiar strokes of your father’s work.

“He was talented,” Jimin says quietly, standing beside you.

You smile faintly. “He was.”

After a moment, he adds, “I can have it moved to your room, if you like.”

You shake your head. “No, no. It’s okay. This is where it belongs.”

Jimin laughs softly, the sound low and soothing. “It’s actually covering up a stain we couldn’t remove. You might remember it since it was you who put it there.”

“Me?” you ask, eyebrows rising in surprise as you look at him.

He nods, a playful glint in his eyes. “Yep. One of the nights our fathers were away, and you had to stay over. Jiyoung was babysitting us, and we were painting. When it was time for bed, you didn’t want to sleep, so you ran away from her – with all the paints.”

As he speaks, the memory surfaces, vivid and sheepishly embarrassing. “Oh gosh, I remember. I tripped, and the paint went everywhere.”

Jimin smiles wider now, clearly suppressing a laugh. “We tried to paint over it a few times, but the colours were too bright. Eventually, my dad decided to put this up.”

You shake your head, laughing softly, though you still feel a twinge of embarrassment. “I can’t believe that’s still here.”

Jimin’s smile lingers, and the space between you feels quieter, weighted by an unspoken familiarity. His eyes flicker back to the painting, then to you. “It’s been a long time since then,” he says, his voice gentle, almost reflective.

You glance at him, catching the subtle shift in his tone, something deeper beneath the surface. “Yes,” you reply, turning your gaze back to the painting. “Though being here again… it almost feels like no time at all.”

Jimin studies you for a moment, his expression softening. “I imagine it feels different,” he says, “without your father?”

“Exactly,” you answer, the memory stirring a pang of longing. “It felt safe wherever he was.”

“And now?” His question is soft, careful, as though he’s weighing each word before speaking.

You hesitate before answering, meeting his gaze. “I want to say yes,” you admit honestly, “but experience tells me not to feel safe anywhere.”

Jimin nods, his expression contemplative, and something about his calm presence makes your honesty feel less vulnerable. “You’ve learned not to trust anyone,” he say, his voice carrying a quiet understanding.

You look at him, searching his face, but his steady gaze gives nothing away except an openness that feels disarming. “You’re right to think that,” he continues, his tone neither judgmental nor apologetic, as if he understands the walls you’ve built all too well.

The words sit between you for a moment before you ask, carefully, “Can I trust you?”

His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, silence fills the space between you.

“Yes,” he says, his voice quiet but certain. “But you’ll make that decision on your own.”

You nod slowly, his answer settling something inside you. There’s no urgency in his response, just a quiet assurance that feels like a small but solid anchor. It’s not a promise – it’s an invitation.

“Until then,” he continues, his voice softening, “please, make yourself at home. You’re safe here.”

The sincerity in his words lingers, and while they aren’t a guarantee, they feel real.

Jimin doesn’t say anything else, but you catch the way he watches you, something unspoken but soft in his expression. You feel it yourself too – after so many years there is so much to say, to ask, but for now you take the peaceful quiet for what it is.

His presence feels closer now and you let out a faint smile, glancing back at the painting.

It occurs to you now, how strange it is, that this time, there is something familiar that Jimin’s presence stirs in you – a reminder of what it feels like to trust, even if only a little.

note. thank you all so much for reading! please don’t be a silent reader :’) this fic takes me forever to write and I’d love for you to share your thoughts w me -- i really wanna know what you guys think! and rb toooo <3333

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