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hansolmates · 4 years

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here comes the bride, all dressed in pride

summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone w.c; 17.3k a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits / @chillingtae for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty

prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

if you enjoyed this pls consider giving a like and a share💕💕

Doyeon likes to call Jungkook, “the one who got away.”

You like to call Doyeon, “the one who drove him away.”

In secret, of course. In fact, the only person who knows how much you loathe Doyeon and her behavior is your father. And all your co-workers. And your boss. And your boss’ ex-husband.

And Jeon Jungkook, but of course you haven’t seen the man in two years and back then he was far too polite to address his concerns of your hatred of his then-girlfriend.

Okay, so everyone and their mother knows how much you don’t like your cousin. Kim Doyeon and you have had beef since the sandbox, and for whatever reason is always out to one-up you. A strange competitive nature in everything, academics, family, and even boys. The sick, twisted part of you has come to enjoy it. While you’re not a fighter as devout as Doyeon is, you have your own callous tendencies farmed from the seeds Doyeon has planted in your brain. She gives you a comment? You can’t help but throw one back. Since you’re a painfully mature soul you don’t have any mortal enemies as far as you know, Doyeon is the perfect amount of hot water to keep you on your toes.

“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t be a bridesmaid,” Doyeon cooes next to you, swirling her champagne glass with a too-jutted pout, “but if I did there’d be an odd number of pairings and you’re a little too old to be walking as a bridesmaid, am I right?”

Your nails. Are digging. Through your dress. Alas, you’re in public and you have class. Doyeon smiles at you with all teeth, reminding you of the Beldam from Coraline. Aside from that she looks absolutely stunning in that Lirika Matoshi strawberry dress that has her Instagram aching with likes and love from her baseless followers.

“I don’t know,” you reply lightly, leaning back in your seat, “I mean, if Yoojung and Rena can be bridesmaids and they’re three years older than me, wouldn’t I make the cut? It’s okay to be honest and say you just didn’t want me in the bridal party.”

Doyeon laughs, slaps your thigh like you told her the most hilarious joke in the world. Anyone passing by would think you’re best friends. You laugh too, incredulous at the amount of power she thinks she holds.

“Nice party,” you tack on, surveying the room. It’s filled with pastels and beiges, bright and airy. It’s Parisian themed, and while you’re not a fan of theming cultures, you can’t deny that you’re loving the infinite supply of macarons.

“Oh, yes. This is just a taste of the real wedding,” she laces her fingers together, as if she thinks she’s living an Elizibethean love story, “speaking of, you put on your RSVP that you’re bringing a plus one. Am I allowed to know who’s the unlucky date?”

“As if you care.”

“I care if you’re bringing Jimin. That tiny thing nearly gave Aunt Lillian a heart attack when he gave a striptease at Yoongi’s graduation party.”

You smirk softly at the bold memory. That was the plan.

Doyeon sighs dramatically, crossing her legs and popping out a cherry red heel. She plays with the back on the balls of her feet, letting the little pearly rhinestones glisten in the candlelight, “I should really commend you, cousin,” she drawls, “I mean, how kind of you to be so charitable and give your dopey friends a chance to have fun. After all, I’m sure it is difficult for someone like you to find a date.”

It’s no surprise as to how you end up with a date at any family formal gathering. You say you bring a plus one, and then between Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok. The three of them draw straws as to who gets to gorge on free alcohol and food for that night.

“Difficult?” you arch a brow, “I get plenty of dates.”

Doyeon giggles. She must be feeling extra vindictive today, high on her impending marriage and the taste of bubbly champagne. “By taking turns with those three? You gotta be kidding me,” she snorts, tipping back her crystal, “please y/n. Don’t get so defensive because I’m getting married first. Your time will come. That is, if you stop dicking around with your friends.”

Normally you’d smother any attempt at Doyeon to call out your friends, but now she’s just done that and insulted your ability to get some, and you are livid.

“Actually,” you quip sharply, “I’ve been dating someone. It’s been a couple months, actually.”

“Oh?” Doyeon’s genuinely interested, face falling slightly, “you’ve never mentioned anyone, I don’t see anyone on your social media.”

“Yeah well,” you feign sympathy, pressing your lips together and tilting your head accordingly, “I’ve had to keep it private for a couple of reasons.”

“What, is he ugly or something?” she chuckles, “but really, who’s the person who has the misfortune of being in a committed relationship with you?”

Maybe it’s because Doyeon’s right, the both of you are too old. The two of you have been running around each other for years, with no end in sight. Maybe, the words that linger on the tip of your tongue will be the final nail in the coffin.

“Jeon Jungkook,” you state proudly, clear as day. “Jungkook and I have been dating for three months.”

And you pick up the vanilla macaron that sits innocently on your plate, ravishing it up like it contained all the tension in your table. Between you and Doyeon’s bubble, you could hear a pin drop.

“Jungkook?” her smile is concrete-solid, “my Jungkook?”

“My Jungkook,” you correct, giving her a puppy-eyed look, “I’m really sorry I never told you. I mean, is there ever a right time to tell your cousin they’re dating their ex-boyfriend?” you laugh, either to lighten the mood or because you love the way Doyeon pinches her face, you don’t know.

“How did you two even meet?”

“We reconnected through Seokjin. You know how the two of them play Starcraft together, I just ended up joining the call and he was so funny and nice. We just sorta… felt it.” Doyeon nods like a slow bobblehead, still comprehending in her pea-sized brain, “I just hope it isn’t too awkward. I know it’s been awhile but, if you really don’t want Jungkook to come I can always take Hoseok or something.”

“No, it’s fine,” Doyeon says a little too quickly, masking on her picture-perfect smile. “I’m with Namjoon now, and I’m totally happy. Water under the bridge, it’ll be totally fine.”

“Really?” your eyes practically sparkle, thankful for the amount of glitter and highlighter you’ve dumped on your face today, “I really appreciate it, Yeonie.”

And she quickly downs her champagne glass, and gets up from her seat. It’s haunting, the way she gets up, pink tulle billowing around her ankles. “I have to attend to the other guests,” she says.

“Of course,” you raise your glass.

“But, be careful,” she gives you a little smile, one filled with a last-ditch attempt at a jab, “Jungkook, he’s a little hard to deal with.”

“Oh don’t worry. I know how to deal with Jungkook’s hardness,” you wink, and Doyeon’s face falls like a ton of bricks.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” you shrug loftily, “that’s what I meant, though.”

And you don’t bother watching Doyeon stomp off the metaphorical stage, double fisting two new glasses of champagne from an awaiting butler as she finds some other poor guest to pick on. Now, the matter of securing your date. Conveniently so, the most important man in the room is walking your way, and you manage to snag his tie just as he passes your table.

“Ow—ow! I’m choking!” Seokjin grabs, nearly throwing his tall body onto your lap, hands grappling to release the tension on his neck. “Leave me alone, woman! I just wanted to get some chicken tenders!”

“Jin,” you say sweetly, opening his blazer to retrieve his phone, “I need Jeon’s number, now.”

“Jungkook?” your favorite cousin pales, eyes widening as you take out your phone of your own, copying down the digits, “what did you do?”

“Don’t ask questions.”

Seokjin says your name again, firmer. “You’re playing with fire.”

“It’ll be fine, it’s the last time,” you quell, already knowing how much Seokjin hates being in the middle of your fights. Once you’ve secured the phone number, you place Seokjin’s phone back into his pocket, patting his breast. “Thank you. You know you’re my favorite cousin, you know that?”

He grumbles a “damn right I am” before stomping away, resuming his race for his chicken tenders.

You: hey jeon it’s y/n. I see you’re doing great, i saw on instagram that you released your first app w/yoongi! Totally amazing, been playing for weeks, really upset that i can’t get past the flaming frog boss :((

You: Feel free to ignore this, i won’t blame you if you do. Im at doyeon’s rehearsal dinner, and she basically snubbed my friends and said i couldn’t get some prime dick even though im?? Me??? Anyway, im tired of her shit so im gonna throw it back at her, one last time before she ties the knot. I told her you and i have been dating, and im bringing you as my date to her wedding. Really sorry, the demons took over my brain and made the worst and best comeback of my life. So… if you’re up for being the hottest couple on the floor in three weeks and showing how madly in love we are, please text me back? Or not. You might think this family is crazy and i accept partial responsibility.

You: I’ll buy u every meal for every practice date we have if u agree.💕💕💕

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: thanks, i appreciate that. To defeat the frog boss, go back to the coconut cave and find the garnet garter. It absorbs his fire and u can easily defeat froggo w any level 15 weapon

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: and as for the real reason u texted me. Im in. let’s get pork belly tomorrow.

Two years ago, you were surprised that Doyeon could manage to snag a man as fine as Jeon Jungkook. Also unsurprised, because Doyeon is gorgeous and could snag any man she wanted, and has snagged every man she wanted.

Jungkook was different though. He had an air of innocence to him. He loved her, a little too much to be safe. Your heart would betray you every time you would find him at a family gathering, making her plate and counting the calories she so meticulously measured. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Doyeon?

Your heart ached for Jungkook when they broke up a year later. From what you heard, Doyeon was Jungkook’s first serious girlfriend. And then you wanted to rip your heart out a week later when you caught Doyeon smooching with her favorite graduate professor Kim Namjoon, wanting to erase any possibility you’d have at love. At that time, you never wanted to feel the pain you imagined Jungkook was going through.

“Y/n! Over here!” you’re a little taken aback at how much has not changed in Jungkook. His eyes still sparkle like fresh dew, his smile is still pearly white and infectious. He’s even early, snagging a table at his favorite barbeque place and waiting for you as if he is the one organizing your first date.

At the same time, there’s so much that’s changed about him. He’s confident, even going so far as to walk over to you and slip your jacket and purse in his grasp like a gentleman. He leads you by putting a hand lightly at the small of your back, making you feel impossibly small in comparison to his Dorito-shaped body, broad shoulders and a deliciously trim waist.

“How was the walk over?”

“Not too bad,” the conversation is casual, easy. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. “Could use a little exercise now and again. I did eat a whole tray of macarons at that rehearsal dinner.”

Jungkook laughs from his belly, causing you to smile. “Nonsense. You look great, by the way,” you don’t mind it, actually, you enjoy it when his eyes rake over your body. After all, he’s now your boyfriend and he needs to get familiar with all the important bits. He leans his arms forward, bracing him against the wooden table so his face is closer to yours.

“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” your eyes gloss over the veins and intricate tattoos that paint his muscled upper half. Your smile morphs into a smirk, letting him know you’re enjoying the view just as well as he is.

And as soon as the tension sparks, it ends just as fast when your waiter comes up to light your grill.

“So,” Jungkook wastes no time in decorating your stove, making sure to add all the appropriate aromatics and infusions to season your lunch, “do you know why Doyeon and I broke up?”

“Cheated on you with Namjoon, I assume,” you keep your eyes trained on the darkening meat.

Jungkook slips a piece of meat in his mouth. Any expression of pain (whether it be from Doyeon or the barely cooked meat) doesn’t reveal itself as he stops to take a sip of water. “Who else knows?”

“Just me and Seokjin. The family loved you too much and Doyeon made up some sob story about how you two were going different life paths.”

He chuckles to himself, taking great care in flipping the meat. “I really was a fool in love, wasn’t I?”

“It… was mildly cute.”

“Tell me the truth, you have no reason not to.”

“Okay, you made me want to vomit rainbows and glitter every time I saw you.”

The two of you laugh, faces crinkling shamelessly as the two of you busy yourselves with setting up the table. Most of the food is done and the aroma of fresh onions wafts around your grill. As you place chopsticks on his side of the table, you think about all the times Jungkook made it abundantly clear how much he loved Doyeon: the love letters tucked into her purse, 100 day anniversaries, even just a simple Americano for her in the morning.

“Is that why you never hung out with us?”

“No,” you reply lightly, “Doyeon made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to you.”

Jungkook frowns, “You really don’t like each other, do you.”

You shrug, “Just always been like that,” you quirk a smile when Jungkook places the freshly cooked meat on top of your rice before serving himself.

“So what’s the plan?”

“We go to the wedding, make out a little, get Doyeon boiling. Even if she’s not interested in you, she’d still be upset knowing we are together.”

“And why is that?”

“Because it’s me,” you grin into your glass, staring at a water-stained Jungkook through the blue tinted glass. “And all you have to do, is enjoy your night and look pretty.”

His eyes crinkle, chopsticks pressing between his lips. “You think I look pretty?”

With a roll of eyes you don’t respond, preferring to dig your chopsticks in your rice. No need to inflate Jungkook’s ego too soon.

Pinning the main theme of your hangout to the side, the both of you dig into your meal. You throw conversation back and forth like pebbles, grains of sand that build and build until you’re caught up with each other’s lives. It feels so strange to admit it’s been two years since you’ve spoken to the man, and all of a sudden the once luscious meat feels dry in your mouth.

“Jeon,” you put your chopsticks down, “are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I know it’s all my fault and I dragged you into it. Don’t feel obligated to agree to this.”

“I’m a hundred-percent sure,” he doesn’t stop eating, shoving two spoonfuls of rice in his mouth. His cheeks puff up considerably, and your eyes trail down to his neck as he swallows, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna.”

“Right,” you don’t need a big explanation or a personal confession from Jungkook, just his consent. “Partners, Jeon?” you hold up your glass.

“Partners,” he agrees easily. The smile on his face disarms you, a full-fledged grin decked with pearly whites. Clicking his glass to yours he adds, “And it’s Jungkook, babe.”

Oh, this is going to be interesting.

Seokjin thinks the two of you are the most boring fake-couple.

His eyes dart back and forth between your spot on the couch and his desk, where Jungkook is currently seated. Seokjin is hovered over Jungkook, who’s typing and clicking furiously over his PC game. You’re on your phone, feet pulled up to the coffee table while some old Netflix movie plays in the background. To top it all off both of you didn’t even try to dress like it’s daytime, nearly matching in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It doesn’t look like a couple coming to visit Seokin, it looks like Jungkook is playing video games with Seokjin while his cousin hangs around like she owns the place.

“Shouldn’t you guys like, I don’t know, go on dates or something?” Seokjin feels like he’s talking to the air. “Maybe get to know each other before the big day?”

Pulling your phone down to your lap and Jungkook taking off his headphones, the two of you shrug at each other, “No, we’re good.” Jungkook says.

“We know enough,” you agree cooly, “Jungkook likes Valorant.”

“I do like Valorant.”

“He likes pork belly.”

“I do like pork belly.”

“He’s ripped as hell.”

“I am ripped as hell.”

“Okay but have you guys kissed yet?” Seokjin interjects, probably compensating for the nonchalance in the room with his own brand of freaking out. You two only see each other when you’re hanging out at Seokjin’s apartment, and while he’s happy that you two aren’t doing the whole 9-yards and creating an elaborate scheme, the both of you are almost too relaxed. His anxiety is spiking.

“Yes,” Jungkook answers, “at the barbeque place we went to.”

“It was nice," you tack on, "Jin, we got this. Don't worry."

"How can I not worry when you're trying to upset our cousin on her wedding day?" he's sweating in his fully air-conditioned apartment. “I get that she’s the devil’s spawn and everything, but she’s still a human being.”

“In second grade she pushed me on the treadmill because I was going too slow. I got caught on the roller and got a bald spot for two months.”

“Okay yes one bad example—”

“And in senior year she accused me of plagiarizing her essay just because we chose the same topic. I almost didn’t get into college!” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms. All valid points, and arguing with you isn’t a route he wants to take. “Jin, the point is that she’s constantly pushing my buttons. I’ve always been the bigger person and now that I’m old and confident I just want one jab.”

“That’s valid,” Jungkook pipes up, pressing the spacebar a few times, “I want a jab too, she cheated on me.”

“See? It’s a mutual decision.”

Seokjin asks, “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”

"Because Doyeon isn't going to chew me out on her wedding day," you checked your aunt's seating chart last week and you are far, far away from the bridal table. "We're just going to show off a little bit. Get drunk, eat some bomb steak. Break up in three months or less.”

"You don't have to just convince Doyeon, it's your entire family! Not to mention you also have to go to the bachelor party!"

"Oh I almost forgot," you reach under the couch for your laptop, "Jungkook, in two weekends from now we're flying to Las Vegas for the bachelor party and wedding. I'll buy your ticket now."

"Thanks, babe!” Jungkook sends a cheeky grin to Seokjin, who is unimpressed. “See? I remember to call her babe.”

“Alright, get out of my house,” Seokjin tugs Jungkook away from his computer, causing the younger man to swivel around in his plush gaming chair.

Jungkook frowns at the monitor, “But I’m still bronze one. I’m aiming for silver one by this weekend.”

“Don’t care. As much as I don’t like this plan, I’m not letting you two slip-up.” Seokjin pulls out his phone, revealing Doyeon’s Instagram story, “Doyeon and Namjoon are at the mall buying swimsuits for Vegas. Go to the mall and ‘accidentally’ run into them.”

You sit up straight, tilting your head to the side. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you bound over to grab your jacket, giving Seokjin a big fat kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Jinnie, do you know you’re—”

“I’m your favorite cousin. Yeah whatever, bye.” He waves you off, plopping in his own chair so he can enjoy his games in peace.

“I’m driving,” Jungkook declares, swiping your keys from Seokjin’s opal dish.

“Oh, hell no,” you jump on your tippy toes to reach Jungkook’s grasp on your keys, but he’s so freakishly tall there’s no way you can reach. “I drive my car!”

“I’ve always wanted to drive your car back then,” Jungkook cooes, leaning in so your noses touch. “C’mon, you can trust me.”

“You two are gross already,” Seokjin admonishes from the other side of the room, “see, it’s working!”

Poking his cheek so he gives you some space, you whip your head to hide the flush that burns on your cheeks. “Fine, but if you crash you’re buying me a new one.”

“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?”

“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.”

You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.”

Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.

“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.”

“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”

And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.

You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show. Doyeon and Namjoon are right in front of you, purchases already made and looking at you two in curiosity. Well, Namjoon is definitely curious, because you know for a fact that Doyeon speaks very little of you to him and you’ve only conversed with him a handful of times. Doyeon on the other hand, looks a little stiff in the grin.

“Hello to you too,” you remark to Doyeon, who’s barely acknowledged you. You reach over to squeeze Namjoon’s arm, “Hi Joonie,” you crinkle your eyes, and you fight back a squeal when he smiles back with dimples. Doyeon has such a cute fiancé, and if you’re keeping score he’s way too good for her.

Doyeon’s eyes glaze over to where you’ve touched Namjoon, and she links her arms with his. “What a coincidence, you two are buying swimsuits where we’re buying swimsuits.”

“Well, there’s only one mall in this town and we’re going on the same trip in two weeks,” you reply blandly, and you feel Jungkook pinch your side. “Oh, Namjoon. Have you met my boyfriend Jungkook?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Namjoon reaches over to clasp Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you, man.”

While Namjoon and Jungkook exchange small talk, you pointedly ignore the waves of negativity Doyeon sends your way in favor of observing the two large men. Namjoon just said it was nice to meet him, therefore he has no clue who Jungkook is. Interesting, considering Doyeon two-timed in favor of Namjoon. It gets you a little antsy, and you wonder if Namjoon is faking this whole interaction or if Doyeon is hiding something.

“Baby,” Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with concern, “you spaced out there, are you okay?”

“She’s like that, Jungkookie,” Jungkook gently presses your shoulders down, blocking your view of Doyeon as she regards your not-boyfriend as Jungkookie. “My cousin’s a bit of an airhead,” her tone is sweet and jesting, the backhanded jab going right above Namjoon’s head.

“I’m just hungry,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile.

“Well, that’s perfect,” Namjoon clasps his hands together, “Yeonie and I were just about to go grab some dinner. Why don’t you join us?”

Doyeon and you both reply immediately, “That really isn’t necessary—”

“Nonsense,” you don’t even have the heart to be upset at Namjoon because he looks so damn genuine, “It’s been two years and I haven’t even bought you a meal, y/n. After all, we’re going to be family at the end of the month.”

“Right,” you answer reluctantly.

“We’re gonna make reservations at the Cheesecake Factory,” he pulls out his phone, ready to make a call, “but you and Jungkook can finish shopping, okay? The wait will be a little long but by the time you’re done our table should be ready.”

You and Jungkook wave off Doyeon and Namjoon as they make their way to the restaurant. Your hand is caught in the air by Jungkook, who regards you with worry in his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked spaced out,” he says, “tell me what you were really thinking.”

Subconsciously, you squeeze his palm for comfort. “I don’t know, it just feels weird knowing Namjoon doesn’t seem to know you at all. Normally Doyeon loves to talk shit about her exes.”

Jungkook scoffs easily, “I mean, if she’s marrying the guy I’m sure she doesn’t want to let him know the details of how they ended up together.”

“True,” you decide to let it go, and follow Jungkook to the register to pay for his swim trunks.

“So,” the little ‘ding’ of the register opens up the money box, and Jungkook quickly hands the clerk his cash, “we’re having dinner with them after this?”

“Only if you want to.”

“We need to, right?” Jungkook thanks the clerk, holding the bag in one hand and threading his fingers through yours as you head out the store.

“Well, do you want to?” you ask again. Jungkook stops the two of you on the sidewalk. It isn’t a fast stop, but a slow down that makes his walk a little more thicker, more deliberate as he trudges you down the lane. You move in front of him, clutching your hands between his. “Are you okay? You barely even acknowledged Doyeon.”

“I’m fine,” you flinch at his harsh tone, and he immediately moves to remedy it by squeezing your hand back. “I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile and I’m definitely over her but,” he bows his head, feeling embarrassed, “she hurt me, you know?”

Going into this is definitely one of the more selfish plans you’ve put your mind to. Your heart pangs thinking about what must be going through everytime he sees her. If he’s reminded about all the good times they shared, or how much he’s over thought every single conversation he’s had with her up until this point.

“Of course,” you completely understand, knowing from the beginning that this whole mess would end up with some dicey feelings someway or another. “I’m just thankful you chose to stick by me. And we can talk about it if you’re comfortable,” both of you being victims of Doyeon’s brand of torture, you hope the two of you can at least be friends after all of this is over, “we don’t have to go have dinner with them.”

“But, Namjoon got us a table—”

“Namjoon will be fine. We can always have dinner with him another time,” you smile softly, “what matters is that you’re okay.”

His gaze melts, and you feel his grip loosen in your hold. He regards you with weak eyes, betraying the confidence he held himself to moments before. “Thanks, y/n,” he says, “I really appreciate that.”

“Anytime,” you reply honestly. “We can go to Cheesecake and order to-go. I can make some excuse about how my stomach hurts and that we should do a raincheck.”

“Sounds good.”

“Do you wanna eat at one of our places or eat at the park or something?” you’re already pulling up your phone, checking out the menu. “We could invite Jin too.”

“The park sounds nice,” neither of you acknowledge the fact that you’re not inviting Seokjin, and for some reason that’s okay.

“Yeah,” you agree simply, “the weather’s beautiful.”

Under any normal circumstances, you would’ve been friends with someone like Jeon Jungkook, easily. A little part of you wishes that you could’ve met Jungkook first, but Doyeon has better connections than you and always had a good crowd around despite her inner motivations. No awkward exchange happens when you suggest to Jungkook to eat together. Even though you’re not technically dating, the two of you know that eating together is better than eating alone.

And you have to admit Jungkook’s great company. The two of you drive to a reserve nearby, overlooking a tiny lake. Instead of a fancy Italian tablecloth the two of you move your car seats down and set a spare picnic blanket in the trunk. Instead of a candlelit dinner the two of you find some emergency electric tealights in the glove compartment, lighting it up between you two as you dig into your to-go boxes.

You’re a little envious that so much time has passed by. You could’ve been a little sneakier and made a better effort to communicate with Jungkook when you saw him regularly at family parties, and maybe you two would have a better friendship today. Nevertheless, the two of you mesh like peanut butter and jelly, exchanging conversation that has your cheeks sore from smiling too hard.

By the time you get to dessert, the moon is out and the stars are floating above your heads. The two of you are at war, fighting with your forks over the last strawberry in your cheesecake slice. After some careful stabbing Jungkook manages to nab it with his fork.

He almost puts it in his mouth, but instead swipes up some whipped cream to press the last strawberry to your lips.

“I think it’s working,” Jungkook says randomly as you chew the sweet fruit, “you could see it on Doyeon’s face today. She’s unsettled.”

“Yeah,” you agree, lying down on the lavender gingham picnic blanket.

“Do you know why she fights with you all the time?”

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since the dawn of time.”

“I think I know why.” Jungkook looks down at you with his large doe eyes, licking innocently on a spoon of whipped cream.

“Pray tell.”

“She’s jealous of you.”

“No,” you disagree easily, “she’s jealous that I have you.”

“Bzzt! Wrong,” Jungkook puts his empty container in your makeshift trash can, falling beside you and knitting his hands under his head. You have a little window on the roof of your car, so both of you are able to stare at the navy sky, “she’s always been jealous of you. Think about it. The two of you have similar lifestyles: same career path, confidence, taste, education. But even after all of that? People still like you more.”

You scoff, hands immediately reaching to fiddle with the frayed corner of fabric next to your fingers. “I don’t think so.”

“I’ve met all of Doyeon’s friends,” he informs you, “they’re weird. Like yeah, they care about each other on the surface level. But they’re nothing of substance. They’re not like your friends.”

“Please, Doyeon has everything she could ever want,” you don’t know what kind of complex you have supporting Doyeon’s life, but something deep and insecure wants to separate you two as far away from each other as possible. “Like… she’s Malibu Barbie and I’m Polly Pocket.”

Jungkook turns to face you, resting his head between his palm and leaning on his elbow. “Do you not think you’re beautiful?”

“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—”

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?”

You choke on your saliva, feeling small and skittish at the implication behind his words. It’s been two years. You’ve only been friends for two weeks. How can he possibly say that?

“I uh, saw you once,” Jungkook coughs, and you watch the way his pale cheeks unmatch the moon and instead flit to a crimson hue, “we were at some party and you were wearing this really cute black dress with a white bow in the middle. Doesn’t even matter what party because it was random, y’know? I was gonna go talk to you but Doyeon got to me first and well, the rest is history.” He breaks eye contact with you, unable to handle it.

You remember that party, vaguely. It was random, some sort of poetry slam in a shady part of town. Doyeon and you didn’t even go with each other, you were with Taehyung and she just happened to stumble in there from another nearby party. You didn’t even know Jungkook was there that night, or how you were a hair's breadth away from meeting him before Doyeon.

“Don’t ever think you’re lesser than her just because out of all the people she chose to pick on, she chose you. It’s why she never lets you get to know her boyfriends. She’s threatened by you because you’re just as special,” something low sparks in your chest at his words, “and now that you’ve finally decided to stoop to her level and fight back with a taste of her own medicine, she doesn’t know what to do.”

Feeling like your body is on a beach and you’re sinking in sand, you soften over your picnic blanket, mulling it over. “Did I make the right choice? Stooping down to her level.” Your voice is quiet, comparable to the chirping birds and buzzing gnats outside.

“We won’t know until after the wedding,” Jungkook answers honestly, “but I do know I’m sticking with you until the end. We’re friends now, got that? You have no excuse to ignore me anymore.”

You don’t want to ignore Jungkook, never in a million years. Now you know that you are envious of Doyeon, for having an opportunity to love and care for an amazing person like him. So in a sudden bout of emotion, you roll over to straddle Jungkook’s waist.

He’s shocked, hands flying to your waist to make sure you don’t wobble off. But you’re determined, and lean down to press your lips against his. He tastes like cheesecake and strawberries, the taste melding with your own as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You melt a little when he squeaks, breaking into a soft moan as he reciprocates the gesture. He’s warm and large and he makes you feel safe. Once your brain returns to your body, you break for air. You only pull back a few centimeters, and there’s no way for you to get off because Jungkook has locked you in place.

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly.

“Don’t know,” you’re whispering against his lips, unable to pull away, “just felt like we needed a little more practice.”

He blinks, before relaxing in a silly smile. “I agree,” he says simply, dipping you on your back so he can be on top the second time around.

“We’re in Vegas, baby!”

Every single terrible comedy movie set in Las Vegas has brought you to this very moment. You’ve always wanted to say that line. Dumping your luggage next to Jungkook’s, you flop on the nearest mattress. Thank goodness you only wore leggings and a t-shirt on the flight, it’s the optimal sleeping outfit after a long day. Feeling something hard and plastic dig into your brain, you hold up the culprit and squeal excitedly. “Look, Kook!” you wave the crinkly confection in your hands, “they put mints on the pillows!”

Despite your room being a square with two queen beds, the hotel does not skimp on quality. The decor is ornate, the white and gold trim on the doorknobs and metal appliances shimmering beautifully. The beds feel like clouds, as you try to imagine what a cloud could possibly feel like, this is it.

Jungkook immediately follows suit, ripping off his outer clothes until he’s left in his undershirt and boxers, flopping next to you on the mattress. He immediately opens his mouth when you shoot a mint, catching it easily. “I feel like we’re in a deleted scene of Crazy Rich Asians,” he says, letting the hard mint clink around his teeth, “is this the part where you tell me your family comes from old money and I’m gonna be your sugar baby?”

“Don’t be so hopeful,” you narrow your eyes, booping his button nose with your finger.

“I’m just saying, the first class flight threw me off.”

You giggle, slapping his chest, “No. If that was true, we wouldn’t be sharing a room with my cousin. Sorry you have to share the bed with me, I got the hotel with Jin and he doesn’t want to sleep with you.”

“S’okay,” Jungkook replies softly, leaning closer to make grabby hands at you, “you’re softer.”

Tentatively, you scooch over so you can lean on Jungkook’s chest. You two have a little time before Doyeon and Namjoon’s combined bachelor and bachelorette party. The past two weeks have been nice—scratch that, the past two weeks with Jungkook have been wonderful. You never cared to measure how much time passed before meeting him, but now that you’ve begun fake-dating, time is the only thing you regard. You’re already beginning to miss him, knowing that in a week, this whole arrangement will be over.

Well, not exactly over. Jungkook says you’ll remain friends after this, but you don’t really want that. You want more, and it scares you to think he may not feel the same.

But right now you’re snuggling like an old couple, sleeping comfortably between pillow-like sheets and minty breath. Your pretend boyfriend, now your pretend boyfriend with benefits, looks soft and huggable and you want to bottle up this moment forever. You say benefits because, well, the cuddling is an added bonus. Practice practice practice, Jungkook sing songs the words you used that one night under the stars, excuses to seal his lips to your lips. You’ll never argue with that. So when Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer, you relent.

One second, you’re closing your eyes and the next, you’re waking up to Seokin’s wide eyes staring back at you.

“Eep, you creepo!” you shriek, scrambling away from him. That’s when you realize Jungkook’s missing from bed, the scent of his laundry detergent lingering between the eggshell Egyptian cotton.

“Jungkook’s in the shower,” Seokjin immediately reads your mind, pulling away so he can unpack his luggage. “My flight just got in two hours ago, you both were out like a light when I arrived.”

“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.”

“Doyeon just texted the family group chat. She reserved the rooftop, the party starts in an hour,” he talks mindlessly, rifling through his stuff. Seokjin is fiddling with his clothes, despite the fact that you know Seokjin prepares his outfits days in advance so he doesn’t have to choose. He looks concerned, pulling out a flamingo pink boardshort and setting it down on his mattress. Finally he says, “I’m worried about you.”

“Why?”

“Because. It’s clear that you’re starting to fall for Jungkook.”

The words strike you straight in the place you’re trying to avoid. You’ve been living in a fantasy these past two weeks, thinly veiled by the whole reason you two are together in the first place. Doyeon’s wedding is just around the corner, and what then?

“I’m not saying that he doesn’t feel anything for you either,” that gets your heart skipping a beat, and you secretly hold a hand to your chest under the blankets, “but do you really want to start off a relationship like this? A relationship all messy and morally objective because it’s built on revenge?”

“Don’t worry about me,” the words easily fall from your lips, “I can take care of this.”

“I hate it when you say that,” the words are curt and harsh against Seokjin’s plush lips, “I’m allowed to worry about you, y/n. You know why? Because, because you’re my favorite cousin too,” he bites his lip, walking over so he sits on your side of the bed. “So don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about. I want you to be happy, I want you to stop holding in this anger you have for Doyeon and move on.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning over to press your cheek against Seokjin’s shoulder. “You’re right.”

“For the first time in a long time, you’ve finally decided to lean on someone,” and both of you know who that someone is. “I don’t want you to lose him over some petty family issue. You should tell him how you feel.”

“I will,” you wrap your arms around your cousin’s slim waist in a silent thanks.

“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?”

The two of you pull away to stare at Jungkook, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the bathroom. He’s in a plain white t-shirt and the red board shorts that you bought at the mall, cutting off mid-thigh and revealing the bulky muscle underneath. You were right, the shorts do make his thighs look thick.

Seokjin groans exaggeratedly. “Yes, yes you did.”

Jungkook immediately goes to replace Seokjin’s spot, and some stray droplets fall fresh from the shower due to his slicked-back hair. “Do you wanna get ready? First party’s soon.”

“Not really,” you admit, “you’re gonna meet the family all over again.”

“Second time’s the charm,” he winked, “I’ve already met your parents and everything. Not feeling nervous at all.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really,” and the facade cools down a little, “well, maybe a little nervous for your Aunt Lillian. Her stares give me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Aunt Lillian.”

“God the two of you get worse every day,” Seokjin has magically changed into his shorts, tucking himself into the bed, “don’t wake me up until we pre-game.”

Doyeon and Namjoon don’t skimp on the festivities, although in taste the ideas are Doyeon’s in its entirety. It’s lavish and colorful, with a beautiful infinity pool in the middle decorated with lavender and pink headlights. There’s a buffet table overflowing with tasty food. There’s petal pink champagne overflowing from fountains, decorated with fresh strawberries bobbing around the fizzy drink.

“I don’t know,” Namjoon and Jungkook have been talking for well over an hour, and it’s clear how well they mesh together. Heck, you’ve accepted that Jungkook may like Namjoon more than he likes you. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle as Namjoon discusses the various genres of rap and hip-hop music, explaining the potency of mature themes in a young community, “but I will say music is like another language, knows no boundaries when it comes to sending their messages to others.”

You fight the urge to chuckle when Jungkook sighs dreamily at the music theory professor. “Wow, that’s so deep.”

Getting up from your cabana, you nudge Seokjin, who’s currently flirting it up with one of Doyeon’s bridesmaids. “Hey, wanna get a drink?” you ask, throwing your wrap on the cushions to reveal your strappy red bikini.

“And chicken tenders,” Seokjin presses a kiss to the bridesmaid’s cheek, bidding her goodbye as he follows you out of the shaded area.

“Do you two lovebirds want anything?” you stare pointedly at Namjoon and Jungkook. While Namjoon’s eyes stay in contact with you, you can’t help but smile a little more when Jungkook has a hard time keeping his gaze in one place.

“I think we’re fine,” Namjoon answers for both of them, swirling his beer bottle. “I’ll meet you two at the bar once I’m done.”

“Sure thing,” Seokjin puts a hand on your back to lead you to one of the open bars. As much as you like being in a handsome hotel with money to burn, nothing beats the fact that your entire family is here to celebrate. The elders have corroborated two cabanas for poker and other games, while your younger cousins are playing ping pong and air hockey on the other side.

“Namjoon sure is a dreamboat,” Seokjin bemoans, handing you an electric orange drink. You take a sip of it, and bug out when you realize it tastes nothing like alcohol. You’re definitely in for a night. “Like I can hear him wax music thingamajib any day.”

“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.”

“A mere diversion,” he sighs, leaning his tanned arms against the bar, “can’t ignore the deep voice Namjoon has, it’s intoxicating.”

“I’m sure Jungkook would agree,” you egg on.

“What are you two talking about?” you straighten up when the man of the hour shows up at the bar, absolutely glowing under the sunset. He orders a round for the three of you, and you immediately chug your own drink to get to the next one.

“Talking about how you’re stealing Jungkook away from me,” you joke, accepting another fruity drink from Namjoon. Damn, this stuff tastes like candy.

“Oh, never,” Namjoon replies brightly, waving the thought away, “do you see the way he looks at you? Hopelessly in love.”

Maybe it’s the copious amounts of alcohol, but you feel your stomach flip-flop at the thought of love. You’ve always known what love felt like, the warmth of Namjoon’s cheeks whenever he sees Doyeon, when your mom takes care of you when you’re sick, when Seokjin makes sure you’re not emotionally constipated 24/7. But the thought of Jungkook and you in love? It’s a feeling you secretly yearn for.

“Right? It’s disgusting,” Seokjin groans with an eye roll, “like, Jungkook wasn’t like that with Doyeon at all when they were together.”

The slip up has the three of you choking on your own thoughts, staring at each other like the three have just been told you’re on a prank show. But it is no prank, and you look at Seokjin who’s absolutely horrified.

“Oh shit,” he squeaks, looking at Namjoon guiltily, “did I say something I shouldn’t have said?”

“I don’t know,” Namjoon replies coolly, “did you?”

The ominous response gets you going, and you quickly place a hand on Namjoon’s arm, placating him. “They dated, yes. But it was only for a short time and we’ve sorted everything out. Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Oh,” Namjoon quirks his head, and regards you two with pursed lips. “I’m not one of those guys who freak out over other people’s exes. I’m just surprised that I’ve only heard this now,” Namjoon takes a slow sip of his drink, and despite your drink also being cold and refreshing, you’re absolutely sweating.

“Well, I’m sure Doyeon didn’t want to worry you.”

At the mention of his future wife, he beams. “You’re right, she’s considerate like that,” and the conversation ends just like that. He holds up his drink to the two of you, and you and Seokjin do the same. With a sharp clink he leaves you two to mull, happily conversing with the next round of guests he needs to entertain for the week.

“That guy is too nice for his own good,” you shake your head, asking the bartender for your third drink within ten minutes.

Seokjin leans over you and warbles, “So you’re telling me that Namjoon has no idea that Doyeon cheated on Jungkook in order to date him?” he’s sweating just like you are, following suit to your actions and asking to make his drink a double.

“I don’t know,” you bite your lip, your teeth worrying the dark skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while though. I just don’t want to get involved, you know?”

“But this is different!”

“But Doyeon’s family!”

“And all of a sudden you care about Doyeon’s feelings?” Seokjin gripes back, “it’s not about Doyeon, it’s about the both of them. And if we know something that Namjoon doesn’t, wouldn’t it be in our best interests to warn him before he seals a marriage deal that costs him over a zillion dollars?” he gestures to the extravagant wedding party.

“But we don’t even have any proof that’s the case,” you frown, “Doyeon could have changed—a little, not a lot—since meeting Namjoon, maybe she thinks it’s best to reveal as little as possible.”

Seokjin wonders what kind of family he has. One as chaotic as his takes a lot to stomach, and Seokjin likes to pride himself in his strong appetite. “Fine, let’s just keep a close eye on both of them this week. And if anything remotely fishy happens, we strike.”

“Deal.”

You return to the cabana alone, with a plate of fries for both you and Jungkook. Jungkook is also alone, laying on the lounge chair with his eyes closed. It gives you a chance to ogle your fake-boyfriend a little bit, reveling in the sight of his toned body.

Setting down your plate with a sharp rap of the glass, Jungkook opens one eye. “Hey,” he smiles, drinking in your muted expression, “you okay?”

Damn Jungkook for being able to read you so well. “I think so. It’s nothing, really.”

“Well, will you tell me if it’s something?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“So, I do have something to tell you though.” Jungkook sits up, regarding you wearily. “Can you… stand in front of me?” Confused, you shove a fry in your mouth and walk up to him as directed, your back blocking the entrance as you stand in front of him. “Okay, come closer. Now bend down,” you bend your back 90 degrees, and he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you, “no, no. With your breasts out, just a little—there! Arch your back. Like you’re doing the Sorority Squat.”

“Excuse me—”

“The music isn’t even that loud,” he mutters to himself, “no one would need to push their boobs in my face to hear me.”

“Jungkook, is someone pressing boobs to your face?”

“Why,” he breaks into a playful grin, “jealous?”

“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.”

“Unfortunately it wasn’t,” he twiddles with the drawstrings of his shorts. “It was Doyeon.”

Doyeon? She didn’t walk by your cabana all day. Heck, she barely greeted you when you arrived with Jungkook. But when Jungkook’s alone is when she decides to pounce? And with what motive?

“I don’t know,” he’s rambling to himself, “maybe I’m overthinking it. It was only half a second.”

“Jungkook, I have something to tell you,” you say instead, panic in your features.

“Is it something urgent?”

“Well, no but—”

“Then tell me when we get back to the room,” Jungkook easily pulls you onto his lap, and you instantly heat up when you feel your bare butt press against Jungkook’s golden thighs. “Like you said, we’re in Vegas. Let’s have fun while we can.”

“Okay,” you tuck your head between his neck and collarbone, reaching to press a kiss to his smooth jawline.

Relaxing against the plush lounge chair Jungkook feeds you fries while talking about the things he wants to do this week. It’s his first time in Vegas and he wants to make the most of it. He wants to visit all the buffets he sees on Buzzfeed compilations, relax at the pool, maybe catch a show. The thought of spending all week with him and your family is nice, and suddenly you don’t feel so awkward sitting on his lap, and eventually he pulls you between his thighs so you can lay on his chest.

“And between you and me,” he fake whispers against the shell of your ear, as if he’s telling you the biggest secret, “we’re the hottest couple here.”

The next three days leading up to the wedding are relatively uninteresting.

Uninteresting in the best way possible. On Monday you and Jungkook spend time with your little cousins, taking them to The Adventuredome, one of the resort's indoor theme parks. On Tuesday you and Jungkook go shopping at the outlet malls with your parents, blowing hundreds of dollars on cheap Levis that have your luggage bursting with a new wardrobe. In between all of that Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon joins you two in your buffet journey, hitting up the top spots and filling your tummies to the brim with delicious food.

On Wednesday, Jungkook brandishes two gold-foiled tickets in front of you, waving them around like a fan. With one finger, he pushes away your Pokémon battle, “I got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” he announces proudly, “waited in line for an hour.”

You gape, scrambling off of your bed and throwing your Nintendo Switch to the side. “Jungkook,” you marvel, “these are so expensive. How’d you manage to get a show for tonight?”

He shrugs, “Looked around.”

“You’ve been impulse buying a lot this week,” you tease, “like really, you don’t need three pairs of the same ripped jeans.”

“This wasn’t an impulse buy,” he says, “I’ve been looking around for shows. Just managed to pick them up today, so go get dressed for our date.”

Did Jungkook just call it a date? Giddy with excitement you throw the covers off, running into the bathroom to get ready. What a surprise, you didn’t think Jungkook would be into spontaneous things like this.

Seokjin left the bathroom open, so when you walk in the room it is steamy and warm. Your dear cousin is still in the shower, probably waiting for his conditioner to pass three minutes of set-in time.

“What are you getting ready for?” Seokjin asks over the rain shower.

“Kook got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” you chirp happily, looking through your skin care products.

“I wanna come!”

“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.”

“Oh, a date,” Seokjin drawls, putting his head under the water to rinse his hair clean. “Well then, should I vacate the room for tonight?”

“What, no!” you’ve closed the door, so thankfully Jungkook can’t hear you talking about him. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just two friends who are fake-dating going on a date.”

“Sounds like a real date, though,” Seokjin wraps a towel around himself to cover all his important bits before getting out of the shower, bumping elbows with you so he can brush his teeth. “Either way, I’ll be gone tonight. It’s my turn to watch the baby cousins. Don’t have too much fun while I'm in their room watching Despicable Me for the millionth time.”

“We’ll be sure to stop by with some pizza or something,” you tease, a little wiggle in your hips when you vacate the bathroom.

By the time you and Jungkook are ready, you two are dressed impeccably. Jungkook is wearing one of the ripped black jeans he bought on Tuesday, combined with a white button up and black blazer. A classic outfit with a little bit of Jungkook-themed flair. And to Jungkook’s surprise, you’re wearing the dress that he first saw you in, all those years ago. You’ve gained a little weight since college, but you still fill out the little black dress beautifully, the little white bow in the middle adding a simple yet adorable touch. It took a little sleuthing and searching through your old college clothes, but you were determined to find it when Jungkook reminded you how much you love the design.

Clearly from the way Jungkook is currently gaping at you like a bloated fish, he loves it too.

The show is beautiful and colorful, leaving you speechless and in tears by the end of it. Jungkook lets you hold his hand the entire time, feeling a bout of anxiety anytime the acrobats fall gracefully despite the large height.

Overall, it was a wonderful show, paired with your equally enamouring date. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s fake and what’s real in your heart, and throughout the night you’re sorely reminded that you should tell Jungkook how you feel.

But by the time you get to the room your parents are calling you, asking to get their suit and dresses out of the car so hotel service can do a last minute press and dry clean.

“I’ll be back,” you say to Jungkook, “I need to go get their clothes out of the car. They’re always so forgetful.”

“Want me to come?” he offers, hand shying away from inserting the keycard in.

“No, I’ll only be fifteen minutes, tops.”

“So I guess this is this the part where I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks cheekily, leaning on his heels so his tall frame reaches yours. You don’t hesitate to give a short peck to his pretty pink lips. He pouts at the brevity, “that was too quick.”

“Go inside,” you insist, “the sooner you get ready for bed the sooner I can get ready for bed.”

“Then more kisses?”

“Then more kisses.”

Jungkook breaks into an all-teeth smile, unable to control himself when he dips down and steals a longer, more lingering kiss to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says, mimicking every single teenage rom-com protagonist who’s deeply in love with the popular jock. “Don’t take too long, okay?”

You nod, pushing him inside, “C’mon, if you stopped talking I’d be back by now!”

Once the door closes shut, you let yourself do a little dance in the hallway, wiggling your butt and giving yourself a mini-celebration. You quickly text your group chat that you just came back from the Cirque show.

Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?

Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀

Jimin: whaaaaaattttt. U’ve gotta have sat in his lap at least. 3 times since you’ve started this ting

Hobi: i’ve heard things in college…

Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u

Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious

Just as you’re about to send a heated reply, the elevator dings, revealing a pissed off Doyeon. She’s bare-faced, in a fluffy lilac bath robe and matching puff ball slippers. You slip in right beside her, making sure there’s a comfortable amount of space between you two.

“You’re going to the parking garage too?” you ask, eyes lingering on the lit button.

“Yeah,” she’s looking at her phone, a few stray hairs from her mahogany bun falling onto her forehead, “Aunt Lillian left her medication in the car. I don’t know why she has to send me, I’m busy getting married.”

“My parents left their formal clothes in the car,” you shrug, “you know, my parents and Aunt Lillian share the same brain cell. Gotta help them out once in a while.”

The icy silence in the elevator is probably the calmest you and Doyeon have been since you’ve announced your relationship status with Jungkook. You fight the sigh, opting to take out your phone and open some unread messages.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: hurry up, the bed’s cold without u

You: lool, why do u look constipated

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: because i am, hurry up. Im bringing ur switch to the toilet and playing on your profile

You: JEON WAIT YAMPERS AT 5HP GO TO THE POKEMON CENTER U HEATHEN

You tilt your head a centimeter, feeling Doyeon breathing down your neck like Puff the Magic Dragon. You look at her with wide eyes. Her long, slender neck manages to snake its way next to your head, “Can I help you?” you ask amusedly, clutching your phone to your chest.

“Are you two really together?” she asks, batting her lashes. All this week she’s left you alone, and you’ve been wondering when she’s going to make herself known. It’s a little self-absorbed you have to admit, but ever since Namjoon’s ignorance to Doyeon’s previous relationship, you’ve been on edge.

“Of course we are,” you spit back, “I love him.”

And you must be very convincing, because Doyeon’s gaze falters just a fraction. You glare at her, staking your claim. Ever since Jungkook told you the reason Doyeon hates you is because she’s jealous, you’ve started to feel a bit of sympathy for her. Doyeon is beautiful and smart, she has no reason to feel this way. But the brain holds fickle thoughts sometimes, bringing darkness to the mind.

“He loved me first,” she bites back, lifting her chin.

“And why do you care?” you laugh tonelessly. The elevator dings open, and you’re met with the open air and concrete of the parking garage. “He may have loved you first, but he’ll love me last.”

You leave the elevator first, a little pep in your step as you make your way to the rental car to gather your parent’s things. While the words you uttered are white in nature and may not hold any sort of weight to them, it manages to bring Doyeon to her knees, absolutely quaking in the elevator.

You’re tasting revenge, and it’s sweet.

“Okay, you need to leave,” Seokjin pulls away the shot glass from your lips, “I didn’t spend days planning the itinerary for you to mess it up. Bridal party in Doyeon’s suite and the groom’s party in Namjoon’s parents suite.”

“That’s dumb,” you chastise, crossing your arms, “we’re all meeting at the same club at 10. Why can’t we pre-party together?”

“Because it’s tradition!”

“Screw tradition,” you stumble on your heels as you purse your lips at Jungkook, “Kook, when we get married I don’t wanna do a whole boy-and-girl party. We’re equals, right?”

“Of course, baby,” he cooes, being careful not to smudge your makeup when he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “But for the sake of Seokjin’s sanity, you should probably go to Doyeon’s. It’ll only be an hour or two.”

You gasp exaggeratedly at the blatant betrayal. He only grins cheekily in response, dipping down to press a wet kiss to your cheek. “Fine,” you cross your arms, snatching back your drink from Seokjin’s grasp to knock it down.

Leaving the bachelor pre-party pains you considerably. They’re having such a good time joking around the suite, telling each other fun stories and relaxing in chairs as they watch TV. This is your kind of crowd, not to mention that you can peacefully check out Jungkook’s ass in those tight dress pants without any crazy club lights distorting your vision.

From past family party experience you already have a feeling what’s coming for you in the ladies’ suite.

Loud music pours from Doyeon’s suite, and it’s completely unlocked. The bridal party is raving, ten seconds away from being completely drunk and immobile. The lights are being manually shut on and off like some sort of cheap rager, and you have to tell Yoojung to tone it down before you get a seizure.

The stench of acidic drinks and the tang of alcoholic air is palpable, and instead of a shot you opt for a glass of peach champagne to slow you down.

As you walk deeper into the suite, you notice a crowd forming by the balcony. Tapping your cousin Nari on the shoulder, you regard her with a hug and kiss. “What’s going on over there?” you ask, heels not helping you see any better.

Nari’s all blushy and pink, hiccuping as she gestures to the balcony. “Her maid of honor got Doyeon a very special gift!”

Managing to weave through the women blocking your view, you fight the urge to gag when you have a clear view of the scene in front of you.

You really don’t understand the purpose of bachelor and bachelorette parties. “One night to be single all over again!” they all say, even though they’re not actually single? Like why does the couple suddenly get one night of forgiveness when you’ve already spent years being in a committed relationship?

Why is it okay that Doyeon’s dry humping a stripper on the balcony? Her white silk dress is ruched dangerously high, soon close to flashing her family. Aunties and friends and the like are cheering her on, and she flips her head perfectly to all the phones shoved in their faces, making sure to get the perfect angle.

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back in the hopes that your other family members would be willing to have a good old-fashioned tip back with you.

You squeal when your hands accidentally land on a bare, oiled chest. You look up, mortified at the large man covered in black harnesses. “Hey babe, I’m Wonho,” he says, faking a sultry gaze as he looks at you up and down, “you’re part of the bridal party too? Wanna dance?”

Feeling naked, you push past him, careful not to get anything on your dress. Wonho? Wonno.

Jungkook loves your family.

(Except Doyeon.)

As much as he told you not to worry about him, and he’ll be completely fine when he meets your family, he couldn’t help be a little wary on the flight over. After all, it’s been two years and he didn’t know how things would be different.

Chaoticism and all, your family is a thing to be cherished. Even though Yoongi has been on mood swings that make Jungkook question his sanity from time to time, and Seokjin is secretly breathing down Jungkook’s back every time he so glances at you, he thinks things are right where they should be.

But despite all that they regarded him with familiarity, hugged and kissed him like old friends, something is different. They’ve turned over a new page for him. They don’t bring up Doyeon. They ask about his family, his job, his life in the city. They ask about how you and Jungkook met, and how happy they are for you. How happy they are for him.

Oh, how he wishes everything could be different. In another world, you two would already be together.

He wasn’t lying back at the cabana when he said you two are the hottest couple at the resort, including the bridal party (but don’t tell Namjoon). You look absolutely stunning in your sparkly red dress, accentuating all the right parts and lighting up the whole room.

When he finds you in the club you’re sitting down with your Aunties, keeping the elders company while the younger ones are flagging down the bartenders. He thinks it’s cute, how well you fit in between them, coddling you like you’re still a child in their eyes.

“Dear, your boyfriend is here!” your one Aunt yells over the loud EDM.

You lift your head up quickly, giving him the prettiest smile. Your teeth glow purple under the neon lights, and he fights the urge to laugh when he holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal her from you?”

“Of course, she’s gotta live a little!”

You pout, a little wobbly but nevertheless still in the right mind as you shuffle out of the booth to meet his awaiting arms. “Hey handsome,” your voice is thick and sweet-smelling, “come here often?”

“Only when my girlfriend does,” he replies cheekily, hands immediately coming to your butt to smooth out your dress. He shys a bit when your Aunties hoot and holler at his public display of affection, but all he wants to do was pull the hem down a little bit. No way is he going to let anyone get a flash of your goods.

“Let’s dance!” you take your hand in his, leading him to a comfortable corner of the dance floor.

Clubs aren’t really your scene, aligning with Jungkook’s sentiments towards the loud generic music and terrible smell. But you’re in Vegas, and he feels that it’s all part of the package to experience the nightlife at least once. He puts his hands on your waist and you giggle like you’re in prom, hands coming to rest on the collar of his button down.

“Hey,” he says with a lopsided smirk, “wanna make out?”

“Sure,” he notices that you don’t even check if anyone’s seeing, and it makes his heart flutter when you don’t hesitate to get on your tiptoes to meet him halfway.

He’s always hoped for a moment like this, a moment where the room stops spinning and both your minds click into place. It’s almost comical, how he distinctly notes that the music fades once his lips touch yours. The kiss is hot, yet intimate. Even though he makes excuses to kiss you all the time because of practice, it goes to show that you two definitely never needed it. Your tiny hands grip the collar of his button down, bringing you two impossibly close despite the hot air. His larger hands grip at the strings that hold your measly dress together, grappling at any excuse to get to your soft skin. The two of you are a natural when it comes to each other’s intimacy.

The two of you pull away, mesmerized. You haven’t kissed like that before. He melts under your stare, his thumb reaching to nick off any lip gloss that’s moved in the process.

Seokjin comes down the floor to haul you both by the shoulders, “C’mon lovebirds, they’re taking wedding shots!”

The two of you follow your cousin to the crowd of people that is your family, already with their own drinks in hand. Doyeon and Namjoon are sitting atop the bar, making a very loud toast that consisted of a quick “thank you!” and “we love you!” before downing their drinks with their arms linked together. The room is thrumming with excitement for tomorrow’s festivities, and surprisingly, you and Jungkook included. He tucks himself in your body like a puzzle piece, hugging you from behind while he watches Namjoon’s eyes sparkle with love under the neons.

The nightclub gets a little blurry after that, with the copious amounts of alcohol and shameless actions from your family and friends. By the time it’s twelve Jungkook notices you swaying at a rate that you can’t handle. He knows your limits and knows when you have to urge to pee every five minutes, it’s time to go. With a chaste kiss you leave him at the bar, deciding to make a pitstop to the bathroom before telling Jungkook you want to head up.

You’re locked in a stall when you hear Yoojung’s voice.

“Ugh,” she groans, voice echoing through the tiny room. “Jungkook is so sexy. Do you see the way he’s dancing out there? He’s a literal babe magnet, I can’t believe he ended up with someone like y/n.”

You don’t move a muscle, pressing your ear against the door that hides you. The silly slander isn’t news to you, Doyeon has been feeding her friends all sorts of bullcrap so they wouldn’t bother talking to you.

“Yeah, Jungkook’s a real treat but he dated Doyeon first. Sounds like she’s into sloppy seconds,” Elly replies, another bridesmaid you’ve met in passing. “But I don’t know, they do look happy together.”

“Please, I’m sure Jungkook’s just using her so he can get one more chance at Doyeon before she ties the knot,” you bristle, the thought of Jungkook still having feelings for Doyeon makes your heart thud painfully against your chest, “like, what a downgrade. Namjoon and Doyeon do not deserve this drama. If Jungkook ever liked Doyeon at all, he wouldn’t have come. Period.”

You slam the door open, causing Elly to squeal and Yoojung’s YSL lipstick to fall onto the sink. You’re the epitome of relaxation, walking towards the sink to wash your hands. The bridesmaids simply stare at you, unable to formulate a comeback. When you finally dry your hands, you say your next words.

“Jungkook is here because he loves me,” an act act act. This is all an act. You shouldn’t be this offended because you know it’s all false. “And you’re wrong. It’s not Jungkook that doesn’t deserve Doyeon. Jungkook was too good for Doyeon.”

And you slam your heels against the tile, stilettos pounding to the beat of the music. Your exit is full of anger and frustration as you ignore the burn in your step and the ache in your heart, flagging the first bartender you see to get you a double.

Shot for shot, that anger soon melts into guilt as Yoojung’s words sink in. The thought of Jungkook using you to get to Doyeon is terrible, you can barely stomach the thought. But that’s exactly what you’re doing, right? You’re using Jungkook to get back at Doyeon.

Why did you even want to get back at Doyeon anymore? Why do you have to prove anything to her? If she just continues to push you around, isn’t that more on her than it is on you?

Jungkook soon finds you after you’ve nursed a few drinks, leaning unceremoniously against a barstool. His eyes widen at your state, and he immediately sheds his jacket to wrap it around your waist.

“Why did you drink so much?” he chastises, “it’s the night before the wedding.”

“Jungkookie,” you warble, clutching your stomach, “I don’t feel so good.”

He sighs, bending down. “Get on my back. Make sure the jacket covers you up, okay?”

He doesn’t even grunt when you put all your weight on him, feeling like a ragdoll as he hoists you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting him carry you to your room. Most of the older family already went upstairs to sleep, so none of your cousins could care less when they see you get hauled away by Jungkook.

You inhale, he smells like sweat and cologne. “I like putting my head between your neck,” you babble, and you feel Jungkook chuckle through his chest, “you smell so nice there. It’s the bestset! Comfiest place ever, ‘specially when m’sleepy.”

“Are you sleepy now, baby?” You love how smooth the petname falls from his lips.

“I will be when we get upstairs,” you reply, happy to see the elevator is empty. “I’m just all up in my head.”

“Is that why you were drinking so much? You said you were gonna stop earlier.”

“Yeah, but,” you shamefully tuck your head in his shoulder, “I was frustrated.”

“Frustrated? At who?” concern laces his tone as he struggles to hold you with one hand and fumble for his key in the other. You tighten your legs around his slim waist until the door clicks open, and he immediately walks over to your bed to plop you down. “Babe, are you crying?” he finally has a good look at your face, horrified to see the streaks of tears mixed with mascara running down your face.

“I wa-was jealous,” you confess tearily, clutching your face in your hands, “some girls in the bathroom were calling you sexy and that you were only here so you could try to win over Doyeon. I know it sounds ridiculous and you would never do that but. The thought of you getting back with her makes me so jealous and I hate it! I’m starting to feel so guilty about this, all of this. I put all of this on ourselves and I’m ruining it.”

“Ruining what? You’re not making any sense.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee, crouching down so he can look up at you.

“I’m ruining us,” you gush despondently, “I’m ruining any potential of us before we even start.”

Jungkook freezes, hand clutching your knee like a lifeline. The potential of you two together? You’ve thought of that? Jungkook didn’t drink much tonight, so his mind is definitely running on all cogs.

Coming to a conclusion, he rubs slow, soothing circles on your knee, his other hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your face. “You’re not ruining anything,” he declares firmly, “that’s impossible. I may have agreed to fake-date you because of Doyeon, but I stayed because of you.”

His heart aches seeing you so upset, and he decides to take initiative to get you out of your clothing and ready for bed. You don’t have any words, opting to let Jungkook take care of you as you try to calm yourself down. He finds a spare t-shirt, a long one so you’ll be comfortable. He doesn’t bat an eye when he unzips your dress, in favor of balling up the shirt and getting you clothed as fast as possible. He rifles through the bathroom to find your makeup wipes, and he’s gentle when he scrubs up the once pretty makeup you spent half an hour doing. Barefaced and fresh, you look sleepy and ready to crash.

But before Jungkook can tuck you in, you clutch his arm.

“Jungkook,” you murmur sleepily, “I think I lo—”

“I know, baby,” he doesn’t want a confession like this, and he’s sure you wouldn’t want it either. You still look a little green and you’re not sober, so he makes the executive decision to pin these feelings for later. “I’m not trying to invalidate you, I promise. I want you to tell me this, all of this in the morning. We’ll talk then.”

“Okay,” you melt in the sheets, pulling the blankets up to your chest. When you see Jungkook move away from the bed, you jolt, “Where are you going?”

Jungkook smiles, reaching over to tuck you back in, “I left my blazer in Namjoon’s room. I’ll be right back, okay?”

He walks out of your room as quietly as he can, making sure to close the door slowly. Once it’s sealed shut, he leaps up, giving himself a silent cheer as he bounds down the hall. You like him back!

The smile on his face is tired but full of fervor as he makes his way to Namjoon and Doyeon’s suite. He doesn’t even care that he probably has to talk to Doyeon to get his jacket back, thoughts filled with the excitement of his requited feelings and going back to his room to cuddle up with you.

He doesn’t even have to knock when the large double doors swing open. Dumbfounded, he looks down at Doyeon, wearing a tiny black nightie and dangling his jacket with one finger. It’s an outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, and he feels his neck heat up at the feeling he’s encroaching on an intimate moment.

“You left this,” she says slowly, a tiny smirk on her lips.

“Uh, thanks,” he says, making sure not to touch her when he grabs his blazer.

In her other hand she holds up her room’s designated ice bucket. “Could you also get me some ice, please? Namjoon’s fast asleep and I really don’t want to walk out all… exposed.”

He swallows his sigh, knowing it’s going to take significantly longer to get back to you when Doyeon drawls like this. “Of course,” he replies tersely, “after all, you are the bride.”

“Thanks, Jungkookie.”

He makes quick work of getting Doyeon the ice, pumping his long legs down the hall. The ice room is cold and cramped, barely enough for his tall frame to fit in. He jabs the container in the holder, pressing the button ten times per second to get as much ice out as possible.

As soon as he turns around with the ice, he drops the whole bucket.

Like glass, it shatters onto the ground, hundreds of little clear pebbles skimming across the floor like marbles. Doyeon’s pushing Jungkook against the ice machine, freshly manicured hands splayed across his chest. Her body is flush against his, making sure that he feels all of her with her thin silk gown.

“What the fuck, Doyeon get off of me!” a little part of him hopes she’ll come to her senses on her own so he doesn’t have to put his hands on her.

“C’mon, Kookie,” her voice is a sickly candy sweet, her eyes wide with hunger as she takes in his form, “just one more night, you and me. Like old times. One more night before I tie the knot.”

“You’re crazy,” he balks, running his hand through his hair, “this is sexual harassment, do you know that?”

“You don’t mean that, Kookie,” Doyeon dips a red-tipped nail down his chest, “why settle for someone like y/n when I’m right here?”

He grabs her wrists, firm. She winces at the contact, but doesn’t say anything when Jungkook delivers her a scary glare. It gets her quiet, fearful of this version of Jungkook. Doyeon’s never seen Jungkook like this before, so unwilling to bend at her whim and emanating all his power against her.

“Why settle for your cousin?” he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because, I love her.”

Her lip curls in disgust, nails digging into the palm of his hand. “But you loved me first.”

“And I’ll love her last,” he spits pack, letting go of her. His anger splits for a brief second, regarding Doyeon with sorrow, “this is low, even for you.”

Jungkook pushes past the ice, wobbling out of the ice room. He doesn’t look back, he just knows that he needs you right now. He needs to tell you everything, figure out a plan to cancel the wedding or something.

But when he crashes inside the room, you’re dead asleep. He can’t find the courage to wake up Seokjin as well, who returned and is sleeping in his club outfit. He groans, feeling useless as he stares at the two of you, ignorant of what just conspired ten minutes ago.

And Namjoon, what is he going to tell Namjoon? Poor guy doesn’t deserve any of this.

Walking up to your side of the bed, he tucks your loose hair behind your ear. You look so peaceful now, so beautiful.

It’s just going to have to wait until the morning.

The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone.

The first thought that runs through your head is that Jungkook has rejected you. The little, insecure bug that will never go away in your brain fills you with rash thoughts. He’s on a flight half way back home and he regrets this whole week.

But after that exaggeration, you notice two aspirin and a bottle of water on your nightstand, along with your phone that’s fully charged.

You pull up the screen to check the dozens of messages that flood your app.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: morning babe, im sorry i had to leave early. Namjoon showed up at our door freaking out that his suit is the wrong fit and shade. Now im running around vegas trying to find a replacement that doesn’t look like an elvis presley extra

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: but i didn’t forget what you said last night, i promise! Just go get ready and i’ll meet u at the chapel outside the resort.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: i also have something to say to you

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: wow i didn’t realize how ominous that sounds. Dw, everything will be fine

When someone tells you something will be fine, it’s a universal agreement that no, things will not be fine.

So you get dressed, and put on your makeup mindlessly. You don’t really know what to make of Jungkook’s cryptic message, but you decide to leave those thoughts in the back of your mind as you go to the other rooms to help your family get ready.

Seokjin is busy tying the ring bearer’s tie, looking handsome with his slicked back hair and polished grey suit. “Morning, cousin,” he sing-songs, “you look beautiful today!”

You smooth out your dress, a cascading silver number with starry sparkles. You feel like you’re living out your magical girl fantasies, wrapped up in layers of tulle and a sparkly sweetheart bodice.

“Right back at you. Say, you didn’t see Jungkook this morning, did you?”

“No, but I heard he’s with Namjoon hunting for a new suit. Why?”

“Nothing,” you lean against the guest table, “he just said something really ominous over text.”

“I will never get a peaceful day so long as I’m in this family,” he says this directly to the ring bearer, a toddler who’s obviously confused at his uncle’s weird sayings.

Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: just got his suit. We’ll be there in fifteen. Meet me at the garden behind the chapel, please. It’s urgent

Now you’re just worried. So you tell Seokjin your sentiments, and that he should have his phone on hand in case you needed him. With a confused nod, you leave him to go down to the garden.

The groomsmen and bridesmaids are already at the chapel taking pictures. Only the wedding party is really allowed at this time, but you manage your way through the gardens virtually undetected. Jungkook’s already waiting for you, hiding under a white gazebo overlooking the hotel’s fountain.

He looks gorgeous in his all black pinstripe suit, hair pushed back and pants fitted perfectly around his waist and thighs. When he sees you he gets up, full of skittish energy. You note that his hair isn’t even styled, only washed and curling slightly at the ends, as if he’s in a rush.

“W-wow,” he marvels when you rush up to him, “you look gorgeous.”

You drop the handful of silver tulle, letting it fall to the floor. “Jungkook,” you clasp his hand in both of his, guilt flooding your eyes. You’ve been thinking about this all morning, and you need to cut to the chase. Jungkook tries to open his mouth but you silence him with a finger on his lips. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I know this sounds really stupid and you probably don’t want anything to do with me after this, but I shouldn’t have made this elaborate scheme,” you bite your lip, feeling even more antsy as Jungkook squirms in his grip. He however, is trying very hard to focus with his eyes, confused at your sudden confession. “I like you, Jungkook. I don’t want to parade you around like a revenge plot anymore, it isn’t fair and it’s wrong in so many ways—”

“That’s great,” he says simply, brown eyes swirling with thoughts, “um, ditto. But—”

“Wow,” you frown, “I pour my heart out to you and this is what I get?”

“It’s great that you want to be selfless right now,” Jungkook takes your hand, firm and tight, “but without this elaborate scheme, we wouldn’t be saving asses like we are right now.”

“What are you talking about?” You thought Jungkook rushed you down here so you could talk about each other’s feelings before the wedding.

“Doyeon just threw herself on me last night. I got her ice and she took that as an invitation to seduce me like an episode of Sex and the City. Namjoon needs to divorce her, like yesterday.”

Your face then morphs into something dark and ugly, and you fling your whole confession out the window. The thought of Doyeon going as far as throwing herself on Jungkook as a last ditch attempt to get back at you, has you seeing blood red. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!”

“You were asleep!” he shoots back, putting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs warm strokes up and down your bare arms, “please relax. You’re shaking.”

“And why didn’t you tell Namjoon when you were driving around all morning?”

“I tried to!” he retorts, hands swinging in the air. You huff when his hands land back on your shoulders, preventing you from running to the chapel to extract Doyeon out yourself, “but he just kept talking shit about how much he loves Doyeon and he can’t imagine being together with anyone but her and I felt so bad! I’m sorry I chickened out. I really don’t wanna be the one to break Namjoon’s heart. I’m just the plus one!”

You pinch your brows, mulling it over. “Fuck it, let’s crash a wedding,�� you declare, “where’s Namjoon and how can we get him alone?”

Jungkook exhales, a hand carding up to loosen his thin silver tie. “He’s taking pictures with the groomsmen right now. It’s gonna be awhile before we get a chance to talk.”

“Fuck,” you curse, sitting down on the white bench. Jungkook presses soothing circles on your back. “We have no choice, we have to get to him before the ceremony starts.”

“You’ll have to get through me, first.”

Doyeon’s not even in her wedding dress when she strides up to the two of you. She’s in ballet flats with her hair and makeup done, but the only thing she’s wearing is the thin underdress of her actual ball gown, a simple silk negligee that reaches her ankles. You don’t even know how she’s managed to escape the bridal party, especially without her dress.

Feeling protective, you step in front of Jungkook. “Before you say anything,” you murmur, “I’m not ruining your wedding, and I never wanted to. You’re ruining it because of your mistakes.”

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, playing with her nails, “I didn’t even do anything wrong, everyone knows that on the bachelorette’s night she can do whatever she wants. Namjoon could’ve fucked whoever too if he wasn’t so faithful.”

“Namjoon is ten times the partner you are and would never do that,” You’re seeing red, unable to comprehend the complete garbage spilling from Doyeon’s lips. “You touched my boyfriend without his consent, and I will never forgive you for that,” your voice is scarlet, angry and thin.

“It’s not like he isn’t used to it, I—”

“NO!” the sound that comes out of your mouth has all three of you flinching, and you’re thankful the gazebo is far enough so that the rest of the wedding party is oblivious to your actions. “You’re not allowed to justify yourself anymore, Doyeon. What you did was fucked up, what you’ve done to all of us is fucked up!” You realize now that you didn’t need to get back at Doyeon with a fake date, what you needed was this. You needed a reprieve, a chance to lay down your law. “Jungkook was right all along. You are jealous. You’re jealous and selfish and have no shame. You think you own whatever you set your eyes on, but you’re wrong. We’re not objects, we’re people.”

You walk up to Doyeon, eye to eye. You jab a hand at her chest, pushing her back slightly. You soak up your cousin’s expression, and you watch as Doyeon’s eyes pop out in surprise at your act of boldness. “So you have a choice here. You can either swallow your pride and leave Namjoon at the aisle quietly and save whatever dignity you have left. Take your pathetic ass on the next flight back home and pack up your apartment. Or, we can start a big scene at your ceremony,” you probably look manic, filled with freshly injected power, “I know Seokin’s always wanted to yell ‘I object!’ at a wedding.”

“You have no proof,” Doyeon glares right back, taking a step closer to you. Your noses are practically touching, but you dig your heels in the white-stained wood, puffing up your chest and standing your ground.

“Doesn’t matter,” you bite back, “what matters is that Namjoon will doubt you. Namjoon knows we’d never do anything to sabotage a wedding without a valid reason. Even if you do get married tonight, we have Jungkook’s word and proof of a relationship that overlaps with his. I find this option to be far worse because it’s prolonging the inevitable,” you shrug, “I hope you two didn’t sign a prenup.”

Hot, angry tears mess up her meticulously done makeup. Black rivers carve through her porcelain skin, showing the feelings that have been dormant since been hidden under a facade. Doyeon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. She’s practically vibrating in combined fear and rage, seeing blurry images and memories and regrets of what could’ve been if not for her self-absorption. And finally, your cousin comes to a decision.

“I hate you,” she emphasizes each word with the most concentrated of venoms in her tone. WIth one last look at the two of you, she stomps away. Instead of going to the direction of the chapel however, she takes the shortcut back to the hotel.

Her grave words are unsurprising, but nevertheless disappointing. A thinly veiled smile grazes your lips, sadder than ever as you watch your cousin go. “And I pity you.”

As soon as she’s gone Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hugging you tightly as you fight the urge to cry again. “Oh babe, that was really hot. The way you stood your ground? That was amazing!” Jungkook takes out his silver pocket square to wipe the stray tears that threaten to ruin your makeup. “You’re so strong, don’t you know that? You did it and I’m so proud of you.”

As much as you want to revel in the affection, go back and bed and fall asleep until noon, you can’t. Grasping Jungkook by the hand, you tug him to the chapel. “C’mon,” you say, “we have to corner Namjoon.”

The groomsmen photos are done by the time you get there. Thankfully, the to-be-groom doesn’t look too occupied. His eyes widen upon seeing you two stumble from the garden of all places.

“Oh, y/n. Jungkook,” Namjoon tilts his head curiously at how winded you two look, equally flushed and out of breath. From your state, Namjoon muses that it must've taken a lot of effort to finally get to the groom unattended, save for a few random family members he’s making small talk with, “The wedding isn’t for another hour but I must say, you two look radiant together. Doyeon always thought you’d end up an old spinster-catlady, but I always told her that you’re too beautiful to be single for long,” he pauses to send the aforementioned man a wink, “Jungkook’s a lucky guy. What were you two doing back there?”

“Uh, things?” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, not wanting to reiterate the fiasco between Doyeon moments before.

Namjoon smirks at the ebony-haired man, “Couple things?”

You can’t take this needless small talk anymore. With a teary groan, you throw yourself at Namjoon. You hug him tight, and you don’t even care when you feel a slosh of his water bottle sprinkle your hairstyle.

“Joonie,” you bemoan, “please, please don’t leave me. You’re the best not-cousin ever. I know it’ll be a pain to face Doyeon after today but you’re a strong independent man and when you’re ready Jin is single and ready to mingle—ow! Jungkook! Did you just pinch my ass?”

“Do you really think setting him up with the next cousin is the best idea right now?”

“I figured a little humor would lighten the blow,” you sulk.

“I’m sorry what—what blow?” Namjoon frowns, pushing you away from him. “Y/n, have you been crying?”

The tears resurface at that moment, like a kettle on overboil. Namjoon’s face is knitted together, unable to grasp at any conclusion. Namjoon feels something grave is upon the sky as he tenderly brushes away your tears with his thumbs before releasing you. Instantly Jungkook pulls you to his chest, patting you soothingly. As much as you two do not want to be the bearer of bad news, the time is now.

“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, finding the strength that was previously stuck in his throat, “we have to tell you something.”

Needless to say, Las Vegas is very forgiving when it comes to last minute wedding cancellations.

The whole wedding party, both Namjoon and yours, collectively feels like a whole ice bucket has been dumped upon your families. You would like to say that the whole issue was handled mess free, but that would be a bald-faced lie.

There was screaming, crying, hysterical laughter from all sides. Doyeon’s parents were of course furious, embarrassed, unable to calm down a hysterical Doyeon as they haul her on the next flight home. You have a feeling they won’t be showing up to family events anytime soon.

Namjoon’s family leaves quietly, frustrated, but classy. After all, they know at the back of their heads they dodged a bullet. Everyone leaves except Namjoon however, who isn’t quite ready to go back to his and Doyeon’s apartment. Namjoon invites Seokjin and some other close cousins to stay in his suite until their flight tomorrow afternoon, wanting to be surrounded by close friends and (almost) family.

As for your family, they decide to find the silver lining. While the chapel was able to cancel the wedding, the reception wasn’t as easy to sway. At the very last second, your grandparents decided to make use of the reception and renew their Golden Anniversary vows instead. The ceremony will be a quick, sweet affair. At this very moment, your cousin Yoongi is getting officiated online.

And for you? You’re in the place where you’ve wanted to remain all week. A fluffy hotel bed wrapped up with your not-boyfriend.

Or?

Would a not-boyfriend be snuggling against your chest like you’re the softest teddy bear in the toy shop? Would a not-boyfriend be hooking your leg atop his lap, forcing you to latch onto him so his hands can roam freely against your soft thighs?

“We have to get ready for the wedding,” you whine against his hold, to no avail when he only holds you tighter.

“But your grandparents are already married,” Jungkook whines right back, nuzzling his nose in your head. “This is like an afterparty fifty years later.”

“I wanna get dressed,” you insist, pushing yourself up, “and we still need to talk.”

Without Seokjin staying with you, the hotel room feels much bigger and freer for the two of you. Your clothes are scattered on the floor, uncaring of any wrinkles or smears that would get on the delicate fabric.

All that matters is that Jungkook is still here with you. Doyeon’s wedding is called off, but he’s still lying in bed with you. You want to burn this image to memory, and keep it forever. Jungkook laying in only his white undershirt and boxers, looking at you dreamily as if he’s still in nap-mode. Hair that was previously windswept and exposing his forehead is now out of place, fluffy and sticking out in all directions. His cheeks are flushed with coral-colored warmth, and a little puffy because you two have been sleeping most of the afternoon.

“Right, talk,” he repeats, letting you hand him his black button up so he can clothe himself.

You throw off your shirt somewhere behind you, not wanting to face him as you walk to the full-length mirror. “So, I think my feelings for you are pretty clear and out in the open…”

“Same, I think I made it pretty clear as well.”

“What? You turn around, looking at where he’s still half-covered in bed. “You did not. I distinctly remember almost confessing my love to you last night. And then this morning, only for you to cut me off and say ‘that’s great’.”

“Oh,” he stares at the white sheets that cover his lower half. “I guess I didn’t then.”

You smile wryly, turning back to face the mirror so you can slip into your dress that’s been pooled around your ankles like a silver halo. “Maybe you thought it in your mind and forgot to tell me.”

That seems about right. Jungkook has a tendency to be a little too passionate for his own good, windswept in thoughts and feelings until they consume him. He hops out of bed, walking only in his dress shirt and socks as he makes his way to the mirror. “Then let me do all the talking,” he says softly against your neck, hands on your hips.

You shiver when you feel the cold silver of the zipper whirr up your body, Jungkook’s large hands splaying across your back to smooth out the waistline.

“You of all people would know that being with Doyeon is a trip,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck, “I thought that was what love felt like. Being codependent, jumping through hurdles, trying so hard to please someone who can’t be pleased.”

Jungkook’s hands wrap around your waist, hugging you tightly. He squeezes you and holds you like the most precious thing in the entire world. Through the mirror, you two are quite a pair.

“But with you, I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

“So… are you saying you love me?” you fight the urge to bounce around in his grip, the biggest smile on your face.

“You really just want me to say ‘I love you’ and be done with it, huh?”

Within seconds he’s pulling you from behind, whirling you around to the edge of the bed. He manages to flouce up your skirts to billow around his lap, sitting you down on his bare thighs.

“You look like a cupcake, all sprawled up like this,” Jungkook says cutely, peppering kisses in a trail from your chest all the way to your lips. “You look like a huge, silvery cupcake and I love you. It’s so easy to love you.”

Maybe it was kismet that Jungkook didn’t get to you first all those years ago. Maybe the right time is right here, right now.

“I love you, too,” you say happily, dipping down to press a long, passionate kiss to his lips. He tastes like love and a happy future. When you pull away, you encapsulate his face in both your palms, regarding him like the sun and stars. “But you know, if we date you’ll never get away from my crazy family.”

Jungkook snorts, pressing his forehead to yours, “And miss Yoongi re-marrying off your grandparents tonight, the next year of Seokjin and Namjoon running circles around each other, and a lifetime of happiness?” his hands snake under your dress, finding purchase in your soft skin, “not a chance.”

#jungkook x reader #gcn23 #goldenclosetnet #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst

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jortsaaaaaaart · 3 years

Text

To Be Forgotten Amongst Friends chp1

Omega! Reader x avengers

Hello all! I revamped my story "ikaros" and this is the new story! Also the name is long rip.

Trigger warnings (later chapters mostly)- ptsd, noncon, kidnapping, human experimentation, Stockholm and lima syndrome

The following chapters will be posted on- https://archiveofourown.org/works/33890977 (seriously- may not post here that often cause i hate the tagging system- go check out ao3)

It's a beautiful day in New York and you're a terrible, no good, thief.

You were considered New York’s very own Robin Hood. Two hundred ATM robberies in two years, the money flying out of the machines and into the hands of people who needed it. The banks, collectively, had lost over $300,000 from the ATMs alone. But of course, it wasn't just the ATMs. A rash of robberies had spread over the East coast. Most were digital, companies funneling their own money to offshore accounts that wanted nothing to do with U.S. intervention. The FBI were notified, then the CIA, and eventually- after a daring cyber attack against the DOD- SHIELD itself turned it's one eyed gaze onto you.

Nick Fury saw something the other agencies didn't. You had certain gifts that made your line of work incredibly easy. Whether they were natural mutations or some sort of superpower, they allowed you to break into some of the most secure networks known to man. He had almost found you when SHIELD fell and his resources vanished. After the dust cleared he was forced to start from scratch. Hunting you and the remnants of Hydra down at the same time wasn't easy, but, in a strange twist of fate, he found someone else that was searching for you too.

+++

New York was filled with so many people. Most of them were good, in your opinion. (Well, maybe half, actually.) You spent most of your off time working on "projects" or walking around the city. You had become a fixture at the local Bodega. Single omegas were extremely rare, marked single omegas were almost unheard of. The mark gave you certain freedoms other omegas, sadly, didn't have. It drove away most potential suitors and the ones who were particularly bold would be given a taste of your powers. Once the burrow had gotten used to your presence they saw you as a generous person, but a secretive one. Someone who took no shit even with their designation. You gave to the community and different Omega rights groups in the area. After years of watching you quietly go about helping people you had been welcomed into the burrow's heart with open arms.

You loved helping people in your own way. You loved it just as much as you hated corporations and the police, but when you could make an ATM spew it's contents out into the poorest streets of Brooklyn or make Fox News send a million dollars to Planned Parenthood, you could have the best of both worlds.

At least, for a time. All good things had to end, right? That's what you told yourself as the redhead picked her way through the crowd towards you.

Seeing an avenger in your neighborhood was an odd occurrence. It was a poorer part of town, untouched in the battle of New York, and too out of the way for any super villain origin stories. In fact, you seemed to be the only mutant in the entire block. You'd always thought, if someone was going to come for you, it would be a couple of FBI agents and not the fucking Black Widow. Your brain and heart went into overdrive as you tried to remember doing anything worth the avenger's time. But there was nothing. The DOD hack had been almost a year ago and all you did was release government files showing attacks on civilians overseas. It hardly seemed like an avengers worthy crime, especially when Black Widow herself had leaked government secrets before.

Any hope of her not not looking for you was dashed when her eyes locked onto yours. She tilted her head, asking a silent question.

The burst of adrenaline sent you careening through the lunchtime crowds. You couldn't feel anyone on the rooftops but there was a large form blocking your path, trying to box you in. They were stronger and faster but you knew the environment. You ducked into Charlie's, your sneakers skidding on the asphalt as you took the sharp turn. The person behind the counter lazily looked up as you walked to the back. They knew you well enough to not care, they also weren't paid enough to care. The alley would open up into a busy side street. More people meant a better chance to blend in and get away. You were almost to the end when the door opened behind you. Black Widow and fucking Captain America stepped into the alley. For a moment the three of you stood in something akin to a standoff.

You felt wildly undressed for this life-threatening situation.

"We just want to talk, (Y/N)" Captain America told you, hands raised. The unmistakable stink of an alpha radiated from the captain. You were momentarily thankful for your mark dulling its effect on you. Though, the blonde's scent was tinged with something hauntingly familiar. Something you didn't want to recognize.

Behind him, Black widow's free hand went to her ear. "Target is in the alley between 31st and 32nd," A twitch of your finger and the line went dead. Her hand dropped to the gun at her hip.

"I'm feeling pretty under equipped for this 'conversation'," You replied, slowly raising your hands as well, wondering if they could feel what you were doing. They didn't react and you slowly let your power seep from you.

Natasha was the first to react, drawing her gun and spinning around. Steve looked at her with confusion as her wide eyes scanned the alley as if she was seeing ghosts. She was afraid he realized, a cold feeling settling in his stomach. He moved towards her and you took off running. You felt him hesitate then take off after you, gaining on you with an embarrassingly low number of strides. You tried your powers again, stronger this time, but his focus was unwavering. He was almost to you now and you were running out of options. That’s when the alpha in him came out.

“Omega!” He snarled, “Stop!” Your feet slowed down immediately. It wasn’t as strong as your own alpha’s command would be, but the super soldier certainly commanded respect and obedience. You were forced to stand still, eyes burning holes in the asphalt, as the alpha’s footsteps grew closer. You really didn't want to do this but it looked like you had no choice. Your jaw clenched, and you spun around when his hand grabbed your arm. The blonde's eyes widened as you placed a palm to his chest.

He barely had time to glance down at your hand before the electricity hit him.

The 1,000 volts you sent into him were supposed to stun him or send him flying, allowing you to escape. However, his muscles spasmed just a bit stronger than you intended. In an instant his grip crushed the bones in your arm and sent the two of you careening backwards into a brick wall. Natasha would find you a moment later, passed out on top of the super soldier, a sizable hole in the wall.

You woke up in an unfamiliar bed, a few blurry white shapes milled about in the corners of your vision. You couldn't remember how you got here, or where here was. All your senses seemed to be dulled. Your wrist was throbbing and each time you opened your eyes the room came in and out of focus. You closed your eyes, opting to ignore the funhouse effect and focus on the sounds around you. The beeping of the monitors, footsteps on concrete, and two low voices.

"She's alright, Buck, I promise." Steve's voice wavered in and out of your consciousness bringing with it the memory of how you got into this bed. "She did something to Nat and ran before I could explain. I wasn't expecting her powers to be so strong."

"I should have come with you," Another voice snarled. Your heart skipped a beat at the low growl. You knew that voice. It evoked a sickening combination of need and terror and you couldn't remember why. "She wouldn't have gotten hurt if I had. What idiot doesn't know omegas are fragile?!"

"It was an accident!" His voice raised slightly before sighing. "I know you're worried, but she's fine."

The scent you had smelled on Steve earlier swirled around the room. Metal and burning pine, it affected you just like the voice had, triggering both panic and yearning. You knew it somehow. The memory was there somewhere, tucked away where it couldn’t hurt you. Where it should have been forgotten.

The scent grew unbearably strong as he leaned over you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. When he pulled back he wasn't expecting his eyes to catch yours.

His expression softened as soon as he realized you were awake. "Omega," Bucky whispered reverently. Stormy blue eyes stared down at you with love and adoration, watching the color drain from your face. "Doll?"

Somewhere in the back of your mind you could hear the panicked beeping of the machines and Steve trying to calm you down. But it didn't matter. All that you could feel was the need to get far, far, away from this man. You didn't know how you knew him but you knew he was dangerous. You knew he had hurt you. That's why, as he reached out to gently cup your face, you slapped his hand away.

"Get away from me!" You gasped, voice breaking. You scooted back and tried to back up as far as possible. Your shaky legs barely held your weight as you slid off the bed. Pure terror coursed through your veins, it was the only thing keeping you on your feet. You found yourself pressed into the corner of the room while the men stared at you in shock. Steve and Bucky gaped like you had just told them the Germans had actually won WWII. Eyebrows knit together, blue eyes wide and frantic, Bucky looked like he was in emotional turmoil.

“(Y/N), doll, it’s okay. It’s me. It’s your alpha.” Bucky reached out to you carefully as a low purr rumbled from his chest.

You felt the purr relax you and dull your senses even more. It was nauseating. “I don’t have an alpha! And I don’t know who the hell you are!” You tried to shout and grit your teeth but the words came out in broken sobs, betraying your weakness. Who was this? Why was he the most terrifying thing you had ever seen?

Your teeth were bared at this point but the man kept coming towards you. The tunnel vision and rapid shallow breaths were the only warnings your body gave you as it reverted to its animalistic omega framework. Bucky watched as, in slow motion, your eyes went blank as your body gave out.

+++

Your alpha held your body to his chest in disbelief. He had expected some shock at seeing him but this went far beyond his expectations. It had been over three years since he'd last seen you. Since he'd last been able to drink in your scent. He'd figured you might not recognize him at first. He had changed a lot over the years. No longer under Hydra's control his physical appearance, demeanor, and scent had changed. But your body should've known your alpha.

"What was that?" Steve asked. "Why did she react like that when she has your mark?" The two alphas were on edge. Seeing a vulnerable omega drop triggered their protective instincts. Steve desperately wanted to take you and hold you close, ease you out of the drop. If the alpha holding you was anyone other than his closest friend and packmate he would have ripped you out of his grasp immediately. For now he'd have to hold himself back.

"She didn't remember me." Bucky nuzzled his head into your neck, nursing your mark softly. After a moment he pulled back and gazed at your unchanged features. He couldn't wake you from this drop that easily. He pressed in harder this time, teeth lining up with the scar perfectly, but there was still no change. No purr, command, or bite was waking you up.

"We should let her rest, Buck. The pain meds will wear off soon and we'll try again. . . Bring her to the den. She'll need to get used to everyone's scents sooner or later." Steve laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. It was a gentle but firm suggestion. He knew tensions were high, the den, with it's heavy curtains and plush blankets, would calm down his friend and the omega. With little argument the brunette lifted you up and carried you to the den. It was aptly named and extremely well constructed thanks to Stark. Curtains blocked off all light from the windows, mattresses were inlaid into the ground, and the temperature was always cool. It was one good thing about being in a pack with that narcissist, Bucky thought dryly.

Steve led them into a cozy corner of the room. The captain hummed happily as they moved the pillows and blankets, creating a makeshift nest for the three of them. The feeling of the omega pressing into his chest was addictive. He couldn't wait for you to remember your alpha.

The sooner you remembered your bond with Bucky the sooner the rest of the pack, Steve included, could court you.

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mistabullets · 4 years

Note

i also want alucard to rail me ! could i perhaps suggest,,, alucard with a chubby s/o,,, as wholesome or nasty as you desire

A Taste of You

Characters: Alucard | Adrian Tepes x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Alucard decides to show his love for you.

Content Warning: n/s/f/w, afab reader but neutral pronouns, chubby reader, virgin reader, reader is a witch, vaginal finger, slight blood drinking (he just accidentally nip your lips), slight virginity and corruption kink (???), and post season 3 but it’s quite fluffy so don’t worry

Note: There wasn’t any railing involved but you gave me a reason to write some indulgent smut with Alucard and for that, I appreciate you.

Not SFW under cut ;

You let out a quiet gasp when the dhampir’s careful lips meet the warm skin from the column of your neck, tensing slightly as it sends tingles down your spine. He laughs at your small reaction, finding it adorable; a lithe hand running down your side to ease the fluttering anxiety and reel you into his ghost kisses. “Relax, my dear… I just want to make you feel good.”

Considerate as always, you think, despite the growing erection brushing up against one of your thick thighs. He must feel uncomfortable to a degree since he is still in his trousers.

How odd it is, that fate led you to him.

You were a mere witch, hopping from town to town but never staying too long in fear that some close-minded individual would suspect your magical ability and report you to the church officials. However, the last particular town found out too soon of your sorcery. Before anyone could act and drag you to a stake to be tied up and burned, you packed your belongings and ran into the forests. You heard from the townsfolk how dangerous it was to roam those woods, especially at nighttime, that a particular vampire lived within the heart of it. However, you reasoned it must be some myth to scare the children or just something to make this dreadful town more interesting and have something to talk about.

Yet deeper into the greenwoods, the lingering smell of decaying death met your nostril. Again, you rationalized - this was the territory of wildlife. Perhaps it was a deer carcass nearby. Who knows? Now wasn’t the time to fret, as you heard voices bounce and echo from the trees, too far away but you could certainly pick up some words: witch, find, and a few curses. Without properly analyzing your surroundings, you picked up the pace, not considering directions and ignoring the fact the putrid scent grew stronger the further you went.

You were stopped in your tracks by a blur of red and a thunk to your head. Before the waves of unconsciousness dazed you, you caught a brief glimpse of golden locks and a pale figure. Perhaps the villagers had gotten you; perhaps this was your angel to guide you toward heaven. But can a witch such as yourself go to heaven, especially if you dabbled in the dark arts?

Well, considering where you are, beneath a beautiful man who carried a merciful soul that you did not deserve… this is the closest to any celestial afterlife you’ll ever be. It took months, perhaps even a year, to mend the wounds of his heart. You recall the first couple months here, living behind the closed doors of Castlevania. Alucard, who happened to be dhampir son of the late Dracula, wasn’t too enthusiastic about allowing another soul to inhabit, especially after being alone for nearly half a year. While you were polite to never ask questions, you eventually put two and two together upon catching a glimpse of the scar, from recent times, forever ingrained into his porcelain skin. No wonder he longed for some privacy. For they were a reminder of loss and betrayal, the day when he saw humanity’s corruption.

And while he’ll never fully forget the sin they committed, he came to realize his lapse of judgment. It stemmed from the unmerited tribulation - he was quick to close off his heart, not properly allowing himself grief, to process the trauma he’s been through.

But seeing how you still forgive the humans and long to aid them, despite them killing your coven, gradually made him realize how foolish he has been. He was reminded of his mother’s wisdom; how she was willing to be scrutinized by the church if it meant she could help others and spread her nurturing knowledge. You were willing to help those in need, despite the hardships humanity has gifted you. While it certainly took time, he was beginning to open his heart to you… and in return, you were showing him your vulnerability, culminating into this moment: you and Alucard, glowing under the moonlight, exploring each other’s bodies like new lands.

He kisses your plush lips again, mindful of his incisors. His hands find your plump breasts, giving them an experimental squeeze, relishing in the breathless gasp your voice elicits. Adrian withdraws himself from your mouth, savoring the taste of your lips; he wants to smother them, hear the symphony he can pull from you, but he wants to drink in your blushing form and the plush curves of your flesh against his muscled figure. The dhampir sees you as a goddess undeserving of him yet here you are, sprawled out and waiting for his next move. You find yourself more flustered than before, small and fragile beneath his resplendent eyes. His visage softens, noticing the doubt casting your lovely face. Adrian leans back down, resting his head against the middle of your breasts, the blood rushing through your veins sounding delicious. But oh, while your blood may be sweet, he wants to try the appetizers first.

“God, you are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,” he declares, lips peppering kisses on one of your breasts before finding a nipple to feast on. A shaky moan leaves your lips, your hands find themselves in his hair. Alucard makes sure to give each of your pert buds attention; suckling them in between his lips and gently pinching the sensitive skin with his lithe fingers. Your mind is swirling - how painful the virginal heat is between your legs, how merciful yet ruthless his touch is, how patient this angelic man is despite his own carnal desire, and how you love it and you love him. He allows your breasts to rest from the overstimulation; kisses explore your collarbone and neck while a curious hand searches for the heat radiating at the apex of your thighs. You whimper please at the feel of his hand against your now damp undergarment and your lover can’t help but chuckle at your eagerness. “Patience, my love.”

He rewards you a kiss, brushing strands of your hair away from your forehead. Your face is burning from how intently the dhampir observes each time your visage twists in newfound pleasure. A finger rubs up against your clothed slit, wishing to draw out more of your juices and lewd noises. “A-Adrian, please… t-touch me, please.”

“I am, my treasure,” he teases with amusement.

You whine, exasperated, and Alucard gives a playful grin. He understands what you mean but it’s fun to tease. Looking into your blown-out pupils, he asks for silent permission and you already know what he wants. You awkwardly lift up your hips so he can pull down your undergarments with ease. Once off, his fingers make contact with your naked mound, collecting the slick pooling from your heart and down your thighs. You’re eager to spread your legs further apart, allowing him access to more. He sighs, pride swelling how he is able to make you fall apart so quickly. After some painful slow strokes of your exposed slit, Alucard’s finger experimentally rubs your bundle of nerves, relishing in the moan of his name and how desperate yet demure it rings. Finding the entrance to your maidenhood with ease, he easily slips his index finger and god, that wail sounds ethereal. The dhampir sees how your entire form is quivering, from the tension and nerves, and he’s quick to litter your body with kisses and lovebites to distract your melting brain. You giggle a bit when a strand of his golden locks brushes against a ticklish spot and he’s glad to know you’re easing into his touch.

Adrian tentatively curls his finger in a come here motion - and after a few strokes, he finds that spot that makes your toes curl and makes you moan even louder. Your mind is foggy but you’re feeling confident, enjoying the way your lover is making you come undone - you plead for more. And so he adds another digit to your tight heat and repeats the same motion and experimenting more; scissoring your insides, burying his digits to the knuckle, and alternating these motions. You’re almost at the peak, he sees - with how your moans grow in volume, you’re bucking into his touch, and your e/c eyes swim in lust and adoration. His fingers pick up the pace, drinking in your divine image: soft and thick thighs spreading out more, lightning shape stretch marks adorning your cute belly and hips, and your chubby face contorting in the madness of pleasure as you imagine what his cock would feel like inside of you.

Wishing to relinquish you of this torture, he presses his thumb up against your clit and you’re seeing stars speckle your vision as strange pressure builds higher and higher to the cliff of your undoing. “A-Adrian, i-it’s too much! I-I’m going to, a-ahh--!”

Alucard rubs faster and harsher and thrust his fingers deeper - like he wants to feel every inch of the textured insides of your pussy. His forehead comes to rest on yours to admire your hungry eyes. Before you tumble from your peak, his lips crash against yours to consume the lovely noises, desperate and needy, and he accidentally bites your lips; but god, is your blood even sweeter in the glow of your climax. You didn’t even realize he’s grinding his groin against the mattress, too caught up the new sensation of Adrian’s fingers fucking your womanhood. If you could read minds, could you handle the extent of his ardor for you, a bashful witch? After seeing you wonderfully fall from your summit, Adrian truly believes he would die if he didn’t have more of you, if he couldn’t hear more of those needy keens, if he couldn’t pound you into oblivion, if he couldn’t--

His focus shifts from his lewd imagination to your glowing visage. From the dazed glisten of your eyes and the soft smile plastering your blood-smeared lips, Adrian could wait. Carefully, he pulls his fingers out of your sopping core, curiously bringing them up to his lips and lapping up the juices (much to your embarrassment), Alucard can’t help but laugh at your burning red face, planting his lips against yours and drinking up the remaining blood (the metallic taste of it combined with your juices made for a good combo).

“Do you need a break before we get to the main course, my beloved?”

He smiles at your cute face, steam particularly coming out of your ears.

But he smiles wider when you say no.

#my writing #scenario #alucard x reader #adrian tepes x reader #adrian tepes #alucard #castlevania anime #castlevania (netflix)#castlevania #castlevania x reader #not sfw #read content warnings #Anonymous

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mar-iiposa · 4 years

Text

"You're What?"

prompt: How would the Bayverse boys react to their s/o finding out that she is pregnant, and she is afraid/scared to tell them? The pregnancy was not planned. Hope you're having a great day/night <3

a/n: this was requested by an anonymous user as a bit of a long story, meant for all four turtles, but I'm deciding on separating it so it looks better on my masterlist later on. hope that enjoy, and make sure to read the tags I have included down below, just in case !

warnings: slight mention of abortion but that's it, mention of needles drawing blood (not too graphic of course), unplanned pregnancy, mentions of unprotected sex.

word count: 2.6k

"Y/N, are you okay?"

Your roommate, April's, voice rang out when she saw you hurry towards the bathroom in such a rush, for the third time today, and it was just barely 2 pm. She was concerned that you weren't doing so good, never having seen you in a peculiar state like this before. As late of this past week, you've started to show signs of illness and restlessness, constantly moody, which we knew was odd for you at times. "Do you need anything?" She gently knocked on the bathroom door, hearing the faucet run on the other side before it was turned off. "I'm good, thanks," You murmur, loud enough for her to at least comprehend what you're saying. Outside of the restroom, April looked down for a moment, hesitant on whether to truly believe you or not. However, she didn't bother to really question it. "I'll be out, text if you need me."

After getting up a little too fast, you feel a small, sharp pain in your breasts, causing you to wince and cup them lightly out of instinct. Over the last few days, you've been noticing some changes. Weird ones too. For starters, you missed your period, it was supposed to roll around about, what, three/four days ago. You kept it tracked monthly on your phone, and by now, it would seem to probably come later than usually expected. Never did you have an irregular menstrual cycle, sometimes periods tend to come a little bit late but this was still odd enough. Not to forget, you had been vomiting like crazy at times, especially in the mornings and early afternoons of the day, sometimes at night if you're "lucky" enough. Topping those off, you felt fatigued, you were bloated, strangely moody, and you really needed to pee way more. A lot more, actually.

You had turned off the faucet in the bathroom, hunching over the sink, still with little droplets of water sliding down and into the drain. You look into the mirror, bags under your eyes have started to form from lack of sleep after literally vomiting your guts out in the middle of the night, having to hold your own hair back yourself if April would be completely knocked out from work. It wasn't a rare occurrence for her to be passed out on her bed or the couch, after a long day of working. You were employed, too, it was just that you took a day off to find out what the hell these symptoms were. Who knows, maybe you were falling sick?

You do your hair and style it just a little, unbothered by if you looked like crap or not, you could care less. You were throwing up and felt almost sick, why wouldn't you look unappealing at the very least? Grabbing your keys and things, you make your way towards the subway almost downtown, avoiding eye contact with almost anyone and everyone, not feeling at your best. It felt like your self-esteem had taken a downwards decline in the last couple of days prior. Not that you never got irritated or anything, but it was peculiar to you that all of a sudden, you had mood swings that changed from one mood to another like a bolt of lightning. Hell, even your boyfriend, Leo, noticed fairly quickly, but he decided not to press on you too much about it.

Getting off of the subway train, you head to your physician's office, opening the door of the building, the cooled atmosphere of the room hitting you within seconds of your entrance of the room.

"Hello, Ms. L/N, are you here for your appointment today?" The female receptionist gazed up at you from her glasses, frames pink, wearing a light shawl over her arms and shoulders. "I am," You give her a nod, her gaze traveling back to the computer screen as she typed away, the sound of her dark red acrylics hitting the smooth black keys. "Sure does get cold in here," She chuckled, a small short in the middle of her laugh, "take a seat, miss."

Doing so, you sit near the TV of the waiting room, the magazines on the table ahead stared back at you, the words 'VOGUE' written on the modernistic cover. The television was of bland taste, just going over the weather expected for today and the rest of the week and into the weekend. You cradle yourself slightly, your e/c eyes flickering down to your fingers and nails. About fifteen minutes or so later, the door to the back of the office opened, a nurse appearing in her scrub, "Y/N L/N?" Perking up at the mention of your name, you both make eye contact and she steps aside for you to walk in, giving a nod before directing you to a nearby room. Taking a seat, you wait until the doctor comes into view, greeting you with a friendly smile. "Ms. L/N, hi," She shook your hand, holding a clipboard under her left arm as she entered, "how are you? Is there a reason as to why you made an appointment for today?" Seconds after listing off your symptoms, she eyed you a bit suspiciously, writing down with her pen. "I'll send one of the nurses in for a blood test, I'm sure you'll be free to go then," The doctor pursed her lips in a tight smile, looking as though she had something on her mind as to what you could've had.

You sit there, for what feels like hours upon hours of silence, and you don't even notice the nurse coming in through the door at some point. "Alright, just relax for me." A pinching at your skin came from the needle, and the nurse draws some blood from your arm. Closing your eyes and glancing away from the view, the needle is drawn away from your arm after a while, patching the spot up with a band-aid. "You should get your answers shortly," 'Angela Bardot' (the nurse) states with a small, friendly smile as you give her a nod for a reply in return.

The receptionist sends you a wave goodbye as you approach the door on the way out, nodding your head and giving a wave back. Traveling home among the streets of New York, your mind is constantly filling up to the absolute brim of what the results would be. What if you were terrible sick? Had an illness that was incurable or deadly? How would you tell the ones you loved? Always tending to think of negative outcomes was a habit of yours, for as long as you can remember. You're so deep into your thoughts as you don't realize your boyfriend had called you a couple of times already. You unlock your phone after typing in the digits of your password, tapping onto his contact. "Hey," His voice rings from the other side, "I was trying to call you, is everything alright?" You can hear the worried tone through his end.

You run a hand through your hair as you neared the corner, coming closer to your New York apartment. "Yeah," you breathe out into the air of the apartment building, taking the provided elevator, "yeah, I'm okay." You could almost see the look of relief in those blue sapphire eyes of his, he responds, "Sorry, I almost panicked when you didn't pick up." You chuckle a little at that, knowing you almost always picked up on phone calls, holding onto your keys as you pushed your front entrance door open, "Nah, you know I can handle myself, Leo." You grin hearing his voice, chuckling at that. "I know, I know."

"I'll see you tonight?" He asks on his end, you immediately smile. "I give you my word." You can feel him smiling from 'ear to-ear' at your response, "Okay, I'll see you later then. Love you, princess." Your smile growing warm, heart fluttering at the words coming from your boyfriend, you speak back into the phone, "Love you too."

He was the first to hang up on the cell phone call, before you fall back onto your grey couch with a heavy sigh, soon leaning forward with your head in your hands, elbows firmly sitting on top of your knees. The TV is turned on from the remote in your hand, head leaning back into the couch, but only enough to still keep your eyes on the screen. Your phone rings again, and you assume it might be Leo again, calling to tell you something he might have forgotten or who knows what. Turning the phone over from it's front facing the cushions, and you recognize the contact number. "Hello?" You pick up, a recognizable voice rang through. "Hi, this is Dr. Rullston, I'm calling you to discuss your blood test results, yes?" Sitting straight up quickly, you feel yourself nod almost frantically, "Yes, it's not anything, right?" A long pause resonates between the two of you, and you can slightly hear the intake of a breath from her.

"Ms. L/N, you're pregnant."

Your heart completely drops as soon as you heard that, standing up from your seat within milliseconds. "What? I- I can't belie- !" She continues, "About almost two weeks pregnant is what I'm seeing. Congratulations miss." No, no, I didn't want a baby! I didn't know this would happen!

You look down at the floor as your breathing is nearly stressed, "Tha- Thank you, Dr. Rullston." Quick to hang up first, you almost drop your phone onto the apartment's hard wooden floor. How was this possible? Well, you knew how pregnancy and sex worked, but this was something completely shocking, at least to you! You think you at least had intercourse with a condom on! You and Leonar- Oh God, Leo! How would he react to this? He would be disappointed, he could leave you! Who would want to raise a child with you? Who would even want a knocked up lady if he did leave the relationship you had been building for practically a year?! You could get an abortion, that's it! No, no, no, you couldn't see yourself going through with that. Seeing others get abortions was something you were supportive of, but you had no absolute idea what in the hell to do! Do you want to keep it? That was something you didn't know the answer to.

Two hours roll by until you're dressed a little more properly now, on your path to the turtles' lair in the sewers. As of now, you're (somewhat) rocking some jeans, with an old t-shirt, your commonly-worn shoes, and your hair combed through. Sticking your head through the lair, Mikey spots you straightaway, quickly riding on his skateboard towards you, guarding your own stomach, afraid for impact. Luckily for you (and maybe your fetus), there is no impact. "Yo, Y/N!" He gave you his regular fist pump, "how's it hangin'?" He notices you guarding your stomach, emitting a laugh as he points at you, "What's with the stomach guarding?" You realize your arms protecting your stomach, pulling them away fairly quickly. "Just, uh- Just hungry is all!" Michelangelo eyed you for a second or two before shrugging, picking up his board with a swift kick at its tail, "M'kay! Leo's in his room by the way. Catch you later!" He rode off again, presumably to bother either Raph or Donnie with his "dazzling personality."

Nearing Leonardo's room, you were undecided on the option of telling him about the growing baby inside of you or not. You didn't know. You didn't know what he'd think, what he'd say, how he would react, or if his perspective of you would shift entirely. Every fiber of your being grew anxious, scared to share the news with him. Or not. Leaning against the doorway of his room, he looked up from his katana, a smile gracing his features. "Hey," He stood up from his spot on the bed as you approach him, "Hi." Leonardo glanced down at your shorter human self, grabbing your hands to hold into his abnormally larger ones. "Took you a while to get here." Yeah, it did because you couldn't stop vomiting into the toilet until you got the strength to eventually walk all the way down here. "Sorry, busy," You threw an excuse at him, the leader of the clan nods. "Uh-huh," He takes your hand and leads you to his bed, "you're not overwhelming yourself, are you?" Knowing how concerned he can tend to be, you shakily exhale a little, giving a closed-mouth smile. "No, not really."

"You know ho-" You bit your lower lip, feeling the need to interrupt, "Leo, there's-- there's something I need to tell you." He paused for a little, knowing there was something up, a feeling in his gut. "Well what is it?" You can feel that pit of anxiety start to blossom within you once again, your palms nearly growing sweaty as you try to gather your words. Carefully wanting to break it to him was something you wanted to do, and correctly too. "Y/N?" He sends you a fervent glance, "is something wro-?"

"I'm pregnant."

He's taken aback by the sentence you had just formed, staring at you, with almost little to no emotion being expressed. He's speechless. Out of words, completely. "You're what?! With- With my ba-?" Giving the leader a small, slow nod, it finally makes sense to him. "That's why you missed my call? Y/N, you sh-" You feel tears swell up in your e/c eyes, a hot droplet starting to slide down your left cheek, "I know it's all my fault. I should have asked for an abortion before I left that doctor's office. And you don't want a kid, I can see perfectly see that, and just know that I'm sor-" A warm green hand cups the side of your face, endearing blue eyes look at you and hold your stare as a thumb comes to wipe your new, built-up tears. Tender lips come to kiss your forehead. "I want this. Y/N, please listen to me when I say it'll be alright. I won't let you and the baby down, okay?" Leo's words are kind, softly spoken as he offers you a pursed smile while holding your face in his hand, "You'll be fine."

Your breathing is starting to calm down as you meet his eyes, your hand coming touch his on your cheek. "How far? How far are you, I mean?" Feeling at ease, your eyes are still watery with tears, a smile growing on your lips, "Two weeks." He grows soft at your reply, eyes flickering down towards your stomach. The stomach that held his kid inside of it. "How big are they?" You hold your hand up and leave a little gap between your index finger and your thumb, "Like a little seed." A smile of joy lights up his face before he carefully runs the bottom of your t-shirt up to expose your stomach to him. He pursed his lips together once more, fighting off tears as he gives a breathy laugh. "I love them already." You grin to your significant other, kissing his cheek.

"And we love you too."

#tmnt imagines #tmnt leonardo #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014 #tmnt #tmnt 2k12 #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt leo 2012 #tmnt leo imagine #tmnt 2003 #teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtle imagine #teenage mutant ninja turtles imagine #teenage mutant ninja turtles imagines #tmnt x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt fanart

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jamaisjoons · 4 years

Text

me & you ⤑ jhs | m.

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 your relationship with your best friend has always been strange - especially since you started as friends with benefits. 〞best friends to lovers au.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: hoseok x reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: light angst ⋆ fluff ⋆ smut

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 6.5k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: soft dom!hoseok, sub!reader, softcore porn, anal fingering, anal sex, but like its not kinky, just v sof, unprotected sex, anal creampie, mentions to ass to pussy, AGAIN ITS ALL SOFCORE PORN OKAY but don’t fucking do that irl use a damn condom this is fantasy not real life okay

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: god i’m really out here wildin and writing softcore anal porn in one day? damn someone come stop me

⏤ happy belated birthday to @readyplayerhobi,, miss tali i love you lots and this bff!hobi fic is what you deserve

Large beams of sunlight stream in through the open door of your cramped, rooftop apartment. The radiant rays illuminate the small space of your front room - chiffon curtains lightly billowing in the wind. A light shiver runs across your spine and goosebumps prickle at your skin. Sitting on the floor of your front room, you stare at Hoseok - taking in the complete almost intangible sight of him.

Lounging lazily, his back pressed against the sofa’s edge - your best friend hums softly to himself: indolently flicking through the pages of his book. He’s a picture-perfect view of ease - his muscles completely relaxed and eyes idly flittering over the pages of his book. Long fingers delicately support the spine - his grip gentle: as if applying any more pressure would cause it to fall to pieces. Occasionally, he lifts his other hand and turns the page.

The motion shouldn’t be so captivating. It’s a simple gesture - turning the page of a book. Yet, the way Hoseok’s graceful fingers flit down the side of the page before curling around a corner and flipping the page, has you completely spellbound. His fingers move elegantly, and you can’t help the way your eyes follow them - gaze fixated on the slender, pretty digits.

Suddenly, Hoseok shifts to a different position. Knees drawn up to his chest, he rests his elbows against the kneecaps as he pulls the book closer to his face. The faded couch behind him silhouettes his figure - drawing attention to his slender body. Dressed in a pastel blue baggy shirt, and loose-fitting grey slacks, he’s the epitome of comfort. Though, somehow, he still looks utterly ethereal. His russet-red hair ruffles in the wind, his heart-shape lips pulled into a slight pout - dimples teasing at the corners - as he focuses on his book.

Breath hitching in your throat, you struggle to breathe. Hoseok is beautiful - you have absolutely no doubts about that. Nor do you have any doubts about the almost overpowering swell of emotions you feel whenever you see him. Butterflies bloom in the pits of your stomach at the sheer sight of him, and the sound of his dulcet voice ringing through the air never fails to cause your heart to lurch.

You and Hoseok have been best friends for almost seven years now - but you’ve never had the most conventional relationship. No - because best friends usually don’t sleep with each other when they feel like it. But you and Hoseok do.

Or at least you used to.

Best friends don’t know incredibly intimate details of your sex life. But you and Hoseok do. You know what he sounds like in bed: the sweet, sinful noises he makes in the midst of pleasure. You know the feel of his hands over your naked flesh: his hands splayed across your back as he pulls you flush against his body. You know the way his cock feels inside you: pulsing synchronously with your own walls as he fills you up with his cum.

The two of you may no longer sleep together - that had long since faded after you’d graduated - but that doesn’t mean you don’t know - or that you don’t remember.

Had you started conventionally, of course, you’d never have known Hoseok intimately. However - when the two of you had met, it had been in the first year of college - in a dingy bar frequented by the broke students of your university. In a mess of drunken limbs, you’d fallen into bed together that night. And the night after that. And the next. It had started as just a simple release - no strings attached and just a way to burn off the stress of college. But eventually - it had started becoming more.

Stressful nights filled with hands grasping for a quick release had turned into early morning study brunches together. Drunken Saturdays filled with frenzied, sloppy touches turned into late afternoon Sundays lying in bed. Spontaneous evenings filled with needy kisses and wandering hands turned into late-night pillow talks. At some point in your casual relationship - you’d stopped going home after your little rendezvous - and you’d begun sleeping over.

Then had come the pillow talk. Tongue loosed by your orgasms - Hoseok would pull you close into his body, and you would sigh at the tacky feel of his sweat-soaked skin against your own. But it wouldn’t matter - because he’d soothingly rub your back, and you’d trace your name in his skin over and over again. And you’d talk - talk about everything and nothing at the same time. Sometimes, you’d talk about your dreams for the future - and sometimes you’d playfully argue about which Disney Princess would win in a fight. But sure enough, through those late-night pillow talks, the two of you had developed an unlikely, somewhat strange, friendship.

You’d gone from simply fucking and crying each other’s names, to talking about your lives, your past and your hopes. Out of all your friends, Hoseok knows the most about you. He knows your favourite brand of chocolate - stashing some of it in your secret pile of sweets during your period. He knows the names of every one of your plush toys and pets from childhood - and the order of which ones are your most favourite to your least. He knows that some nights, you like to be left alone; dissociating from the stress of work and life as you retreat into your self to recuperate.

In fact, there is very little that Hoseok doesn’t know about you.

If you’re being honest, you can count the things he doesn’t know about you on one hand. He doesn’t know that his smile is your favourite thing in the entire world: you’re sure he could light up the entirety of Seoul with you. You know he definitely lights up your world with it. He doesn’t know that his tender touches are the one thing that can calm you down without failure - or that when you’re most stressed, you wish for nothing more than his arms around you while he whispers everything will be alright. But most importantly, he doesn’t know that somewhere in the seven years that you’ve known him, you’ve completely and utterly fallen in love with him.

After you’d graduated, almost three and a half years ago now, you and Hoseok had stopped sleeping with each other. Mainly because you’d found yourself getting into a serious relationship. Hence, you’d ended it with Hoseok - and your relationship had fallen into one of just friendship. Of course, that serious relationship had failed after about six months - and you’d never admit it to him, but it was due to Hoseok himself. When your boyfriend, Juhwan, had found out that you’d been sleeping with Hoseok, he’d freaked out and demanded you choose between the two.

When he’d presented you with the choice, you’d been shocked. Hoseok had been a constant in your life for four years by then. So you’d made your choice. A very easy choice. Aided by the fact that not only were you bored and listless in your relationship with Juhwan, but that he’d also tried to remove Hoseok from your life. So, you chose Hoseok. You’d always choose Hoseok. Of course, it was probably your own downfall that caused the bitter end to the relationship. Completely accustomed to your odd relationship with Hoseok, you had compared Juhwan to your best friend - craving the spark of connection and intimacy that you feel for Hoseok with someone else.

In the years after Juhwan, you’d tried to date again - but none of them compared to Hoseok. None of them smiled the same as him, or had his humour, or made you feel at ease like he did. So, for years now, you’ve simply settled for being Hoseok’s best friend. There’s still traces of your former intimacy; in the way his hand instinctively falls to the small of your back as he leads you around, the way the two of you snuggle on the sofa while watching Netflix: Hoseok’s hand resting just above your ass, your body laying on top of him - or even in the way he’ll buy you flowers ‘just because’ and kiss your forehead.

Just like that, with simple - what should have been platonic - gestures, you’d fallen headfirst for your best friend. Between the warm smiles on coffee dates, lazy strolls through the parks, and the way he’d playfully smile at you and call your name - as if it belonged to him; you’d lost your heart on him.

You couldn’t help it. Nor do you regret it.

Utterly magnetised to your best friend, you want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him, press your mouth to his and drown every one of your senses in him. A part of you wonders if Hoseok feels the same way - whether he yearns for you as much as you yearn for him. Drawn out of your musings, you hear Hoseok’s phone vibrate on the low coffee. Placing his book down, Hoseok picks up his phone before unlocking it with a swipe. After his lips twist in amusement, he lets out a tinkling, raucous laugh. Eyebrows shooting into your hairline, you cock your head in question.

“What happened?” you ask, your head tilting to the side.

With another boisterous laugh, Hoseok’s eyes glance up from the screen. Eyes twinkling with mirth, “Namjoon and his girlfriend tried to have anal sex - but the moment he entered her ass he came,” Hoseok guffaws. His words only have you scoffing.

“Pretty bold of her - I’ve heard stories about his cock. I wonder if it’s as big as they say it is?” you ruminate distractedly. Preoccupied with your own thought, you don’t see the way Hoseok’s eyes soften, a slight twinge of despair ebbing through them. However, as quick as it starts, it fades away and he turns back to his phone. “I wonder what it feels like,” you continue musing out loud.

“Namjoon’s cock?” Hoseok chokes out, looking at you with wide eyes. Sending him a playful disdainful glare, you snort.

“No - anal sex,” you reply - as if it were the most obvious answer. Had this been a conversation with someone else - anyone else - you’d be uncomfortable and shy. But it’s Hoseok - and you’d always been open with him.

“Wait, you’ve never had anal sex?” Hoseok’s incredulous voice breaks the air.

Humming softly, you shake your head. Then, with a shrug, “I haven’t really had anyone I trust enough to do it with,” you reply.

“Do you want it?” Hoseok asks - his voice turning breathy.

With a soft laugh, “why are you offering?” you tease. Your words are meant to be playful, but seeing the heavy sincerity in Hoseok’s eyes, you pause.

“Yes. I am,” Hoseok replies, his voice completely serious.

“W-wait what?” you ask, your mind suddenly swimming with haziness.

“I mean it. It’s not like we haven’t fucked before - and you do trust me, don’t you?” he asks - then with a pause - “But it’s completely up to you,” Hoseok finishes. You swallow audibly, your throat constricting. Would this be a bad idea? It’s been so long since you’ve felt Hoseok’s naked body against your own. But things are different now - you hadn’t been in love with him then - you are in love with him now. Would you be able to survive feeling him inside you - so intimately - only to lose him again? You have no idea.

Despite your reluctance, however, “yes,” your mouth automatically agrees. Consequences be damned - you’ll deal with heartbreak later. Right now, you have to opportunity to have Hoseok again - to feel his naked skin against your own as you drown in all that is him. You’d be damned if you lost this opportunity.

“I- are you sure?” Hoseok asks. His warm eyes stare at you in question; you know him well enough to know he’s giving you an out. But you don’t need one. You’re sure of this - as sure as the love you feel for him. Even if it’s just one last time, you need to feel him inside you.

Eyes steeling with resolution, “yes,” you reply once again. Sucking in a sharp breath, Hoseok nods. Then, he’s getting up. He holds his hand out to you and you place your own in his palm before you allow him to lead you to his bedroom.

Stepping past the threshold of his bedroom you feel the heat rise by several degrees. Carefully, Hoseok guides you towards his bed. This streams of sunlight bath his bedroom - lighting up every inch and corner. There’s not a hint of shadow or darkness, and suddenly you feel a little selfconscious. Without any cover, you’ll be completely exposed to him - unable to hide any flaw on your body. Suddenly, you feel your stomach twist in nervousness, and momentarily, you wonder if this was a mistake.

Hesitancy thickening in the air around you, Hoseok’s in front of you in a flash. Your eyes widen at the sudden movement and you let out a short gasp. He’s incredibly close to you now - his face only a hair’s breadth away from yours. Swallowing thickly, you look up at him through the thick of your eyelashes. With deliberate movements, Hoseok’s hand moves to cup your face - and delicately strokes his thumb across your cheek.

His actions comfort you - the tension in your shoulder dissipating under his tender touch. Boring into you with his warm gaze, Hoseok dips his head down. His lips hover over your own - so close that you can almost feel his mouth - almost taste him. Heart-shaped lips ghosting over yours, “It’s alright. I’ve got you,” Hoseok mutters.

Then, his lips are descending onto yours. You gasp against his mouth. It’s been so long since you’ve tasted him - felt his mouth move against yours - that you’ve forgotten what he tastes like. Not anymore, though. As he licks your lips, the saccharine flavour of his tongue coats your lips; and with another gasp, your mouth parts open. Lethargically, he presses his tongue between your teeth - the wet appendage massaging and gliding over your own.

Lost in the intoxicating sweetness of Hoseok’s tongue against your own - you barely register the way he undresses you. Briefly, he breaks your kiss - a soft whine of protest slipping from your lips - as he sheds you off your top. Then, pressing his lips back against you, his hands caress down the curves of your sides and along your abdomen before he deftly unbuttons your jeans.

Aiding his movements, you step out of your jeans - leaving most of your body exposed. The crisp air causes you to shiver, Hoseok’s hands reverently falling to your hips as he pulls you closer. Head dropping to your neck, his hands curl around your pelvis before cupping your ass. When he squeezes the fleshy cheeks of your behind, you gasp. However, he doesn’t stop there. Fingers delving under the waistband of your underwear, he spreads your ass with one hand - the fingertips of the other brushing against your dewy slit.

A low groan resounds through the air, Hoseok’s chest rumbling against yours, “You’re already wet. God, I forgot how responsive you are,” he rasps. His warm breath fans over the naked flesh of your shoulder, and over your back, causing the hair at the nape of your back to stand on end.

“H-Hoseok,” you stammer out, your head nuzzling deeper into the crook of his neck when you feel him lightly trace the outline of your folds.

“What do you want, Petal?” Hoseok questions. The sound of the familiar pet name causes your heart to clench. Vividly, you remember the way he used to call you Petal, his fingers ghosting over your clit as he brought you to climax. Though, this time it’s different. Before, whenever he called you Petal, the pet name would drip with desire and dominance. Now, however, it’s filled with tenderness - his soft voice causing your chest to cave from the weight of the emotions that well up inside you.

The muscles of your throat tighten, and simultaneously, your tongue ties as you try to force the words out. “You. I want you,” you choke out. There’s more truth to them than he knows - than he’ll probably ever know. The magnitude of your words ring heavy in the air, the atmosphere shifting slightly. Hoseok hums in approval from above you, his finger still tracing teasing circles over your folds.

“Where?” he murmurs. Taking a deep, shuddering inhale, your heart races. Everywhere - is the first thought that springs to your mind. You want to feel him everywhere: feel yourself drown in his embrace, inhale the intoxicating scent of earth and spice that wafts around him, taste the sweetness that is his essence. You want to sink into everything that makes up the entirety of Hoseok’s being. But the confession sits heavy at the back of your throat, the words turning to ash in your mouth as you feel your tongue dry.

Instead, “I-In my a-ass,” you stutter out. Choking out the words, you feel your ears heat - your flesh searing in embarrassment. You know he can feel your mortification - he’s the only one who can read you like a book - but rather than pointing it out, he places a soothing kiss to the edge of your shoulder.

Drawing away from you, “get on the bed,” he urges.

On shaky limbs, you do as he says. Falling to the bed with a bounce, you shuffle backwards. You watch him slowly shed his own clothes, until he’s dressed in nothing but his boxers. Trepidation and want pools in the pit of your abdomen, your stomach twisting as you watch him slowly approach you once. Momentarily, he stops at his bedside table, and opening the mahogany draw, he begins rummaging around in it. Time moves slowly - the seconds ticking by at what feels like an excruciating phase as he searches through his bedside table.

Finally, he finds what he’s looking for. When he pulls out the small bottle of lube, your stomach flips. Crawling back onto the bed, he comes to a halt in front of you. Knees pressed to the bed, he leans back on the backs of his heels before gesturing to your with the wave of his hand. “On your hands and knees, Petal,” Hoseok commands softly. The light domineering tone is reminiscent of the way he used to beckon you to your knees - but again, this time, it’s different. His command is softer - and you simply can’t decipher the underlying current of tenderness clinging to his tone.

Nonetheless, you slowly flip yourself over. Bearing your ass to him, Hoseok dips forward and presses a soothing kiss to the base of your spine. You feel his fingers curl around the waistband of your underwear before he peels the article of clothing off of you. A soft sough drops from your lips when you feel the damp fabric pull away from your folds before he slides it down your thighs. Lifting your legs, you aid Hoseok in divesting you of your underwear. When he’s done, he turns back to your sex, and you bite your lip when you feel his dark gaze on your folds.

In this position, you’re bared completely for him - nothing hidden from him. Under his heavy stare, you feel yourself grow self-conscious once again. Curling into yourself, you bury your face into his pillow before taking deep breaths. The scent of earth and spice fills your senses, the calming scent soothing you instantly. From behind you, Hoseok drags his soft lips against the fleshy globes of your ass, before he presses two tender kisses to each cheek.

“Relax, Petal, I’ll take care of you,” Hoseok mumbles. His warm breath ghosts over the seam of your ass, the muscles of your thigh twitching in response. Taking another deep breath, you pull yourself together before nodding to him.

“What’s your safeword?” Hoseok asks and another wave of nostalgia hits you.

“Butterscotch,” you breathe out. Hoseok freezes behind you, his face crumpling as he hears the word.

“Still?”

You bite your lip at the light disbelief in his voice.

Butterscotch had been the safeword he’d chosen for you - because you’d consumed an unhealthy amount of it during your university years. Butterscotch reminded Hoseok of you - of the days you used to suck at the caramel sweets and drive him mad with lust: wishing you’d suck at his cock the same way. For you, however, butterscotch reminds you wholly of Hoseok; and the way he’d sweetly call your name when you came undone above him. And even now, years after him, and long since you’ve had him in your bed, butterscotch remains your safeword - the security blanket you’d never really been able to let go of.

“Still,” you reply, echoing his sentiment. Hoseok takes a couple of moments to let your words wash over him. Fruitlessly, he tries to figure out what it means; figure out why still, after all this time, you’d kept the same safe word. But he can’t make anything of it. So instead, he presses another sweet kiss to your skin.

“Okay. Say ‘Butterscotch’ if it gets too much, alright, Sweetness?” Hoseok breathes out. Sweetness. That’s a new one - you haven’t heard him call you that before. Sweetness; you repeat in your head. Over and over you play the name in your head, until it’s all you can hear: until you’re drowning in it.

Abruptly, you feel a cold liquid drip over the seam of your ass. Pulled back to reality, you buck your hips and hiss at the sensation. Hoseok pays you no mind, instead, dripping more of the lube over your twitching asshole. The click of the cap resounds through the still air and then silence. He’s incredibly still behind you, and you have to resist the urge to turn around and look at him. You have no idea what he’s waiting for - but the pause only has you growing tense again.

Without warning, he presses a finger against the rim of your ass. You groan, your thighs quivering when you feel him softly trace the outline of your puckered hole. His touch is gentle - reverent - as he traces your back entrance. The slim finger barely ghosts over your flesh, his finger moving in feathery circles. He’s barely doing anything, yet heat begins prickling along your spine. Just the soft strokes of his fingers has pleasure rippling through you, and briefly, you wonder what it would feel like to have him actually inside you.

Though, you don’t have to wonder long - because the next thing you know, Hoseok is applying pressure to your asshole. Under the force of his lubricated finger, your ass slowly opens up for him. Simultaneously, the two of you hiss: you in the odd pleasantness of your ass opening up around his slim finger; and Hoseok in incredulity as the hot tightness of your ass muscles squeeze his fingers.

“Fuck, that’s tight,” Hoseok mutters. Experimentally, he wriggles his finger inside you, causing a cry to tear through your throat. It’s definitely a strange sense of fullness - but you can’t deny the sheer undercurrent pleasure that tremors through you.

“M-More,” you choke out, softly bucking against his hand.

A deep exhale, “Fuck- okay,” Hoseok rasps out. You feel another squirt of lube against your ass, the puckered rim twitching as the cold feeling. Slowly, Hoseok begins thrusting his finger into you, gradually opening up your muscles for him.

Low keening whimpers emanate from your throat, wetness flooding your sex as you feel his finger plunge leisurely inside you. Hoseok moves with deliberate motions, his lips ghosting over your ass in soothing butterfly kisses. “Are you okay? Speak to me, Petal,” Hoseok urges, picking up the pace slightly.

Head spinning with pleasure, you hazily register his words, “G-good. It feels good. Hobi- please, more,” you reply with a strangled moan.

At your behest, Hoseok presses a second finger into you. You feel the tight ring of muscles stretch for him. Discomfort stings at your ass, the slight ache making you wince. Hoseok mumbles an apology, peppering another kiss to the base of your spine. Even as he does that, however, he continues pushing the second finger into you. Once it’s knuckle deep, he stills - letting you grow used to the sensation.

“How’s that?” he asks. Shaking your head, you try to clear your head. Your mouth is dry, throat completely parched. Hands aching, you unclench them from the sheets - when had the happened?

“It’s alright. Just- just give me a moment,” you breathe out. Hoseok nods behind you. You both stay like that for long moments - the internal muscles of your ass twitching every now and then. When you grow accustomed to the stretch, you experimentally clench around his fingers. You cry out in pleasure when your ass squeezes his digits, a low thrum of bliss swirling in your stomach.

“Okay, y-you can move,” you stammer out. With your permission, Hoseok begins thrusting his fingers into you once again. With every plunge of the dainty appendages, your stomach twists and tightens. Muscles of your thighs quivering, you lose yourself in the pleasure of Hoseok’s fingers stretching your ass out.

Foreignness of it all fading away, you’re left with nothing but utter, blissful rapture. A third finger teases at your entrance - and this time, when Hoseok pushes it into you - the muscles of your ass are relaxed - and you easily accept the third digit. The stretch feels euphoric, and sinking further into unadulterated intoxication, you push your ass against him.

Deliberately, Hoseok plunges his fingers into you - his eyes trained on the way your ass swallows his digits. Lube slicks his appendages, the slippery fingers coating your internal muscles in the slick lubrication. Within the confines of his boxers, his cock strains, pulsating with need as he continues fucking his fingers into your ass. His throat constricting, he spreads all three fingers inside you: in a scissoring motion, as he stretches you out further.

The sudden action has you crying out, your back contorting in euphoric elation. Hoseok lets out a deep shudder at the sight - once tense with nervousness, your shoulders are completely relaxed now - you’re ass pushing back against his digits. Once again, he spreads his fingers - trying to spread you out as much as possible for his cock. The stretch has your rolling back once again, your pussy clenching around nothing as you drip onto his sheets.

“Want you. Fuck- Hoseok I want your cock,” you slur out, your hips picking up the pace as you try to fuck his fingers deeper into you.

“I need to stretch you out more or-” Hoseok tries to argue. However, fists gripping the sheets harder, you shake your head.

“I’m ready! Please, I just wanna feel your cock. Please,” you plead. Hoseok waivers for a brief moment, but the desperation in your voice, paired with his own aching cock, has him giving in.

Retreating his fingers from your ass, he grabs the bottle of lube again. You hear him uncap the contained before squirting some on his cock. Slick sounds of his palm rubbing over his cock fill the air as he preps his cock for your ass. However, when he presses the head against your asshole, you twist your hand back and stop him.

“What’s wrong? Do we need to stop?” Hoseok asks. Quickly, you shake your head before flipping yourself onto your back. Hoseok’s eyes widen at your new position. “What-” he begins, only to have you cut him off.

“I want to see you,” you breathe out. Eyebrows furrowing, Hoseok looks at you in concern.

“It’ll be more comfortable on your knees,” he tries to reason. However, steadfast and resilient, you shake your head.

“I want to see you,” you whisper again. This time, there’s a heavy undercurrent of emotion lacing through your voice. Large imploring eyes staring at him, you plead for him to give into you, and completely captivated by you, Hoseok knows he can’t deny you. There’s very little he could refute when it comes to you. You may not know it, but there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to see you happy.

Nodding in surrender, Hoseok helps manoeuvre your legs so your ass is spread for him. Legs bent at the knee, he presses them against your chest. The muscles strain, pulling taut at the new positioning. Nonetheless, you ignore the slight discomfort - far too wired by the thought of Hoseok’s cock in your ass.

Shuffling between your thighs, Hoseok presses the weepy head of his lubed cock against your slick asshole. Then, he slowly begins thrusting into you. Feeling the blunt head of his cock slowly enter your ass - stretching the tight ring of muscles - you suck in a deep breath. His girth is thinner than the width of his three fingers, and aided by the slipper lubrication, he slides in fairly easy.

However - Hoseok’s cock is much longer than his fingers - and soon you feel discomfort deep within your stomach. Wincing, you feel his cock spread open the untouched territory of your ass, the blunt head spearing you open for him. Through it all, you stare up at him - watching the way he sucks in deep breaths, his face twisting in pleasure as the hot muscles of your asshole rhythmically pulsate around you.

Eyes fixated on him, you take him in. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him like this - naked and fucked out: all for you. Sinewy muscles ripple under taut, caramel skin - his flesh glistening with a light sheen of perspiration. Bathed in sunlight, he glows from above you - shimmering in the amber rays as if he were some ethereal being sent by the heavens themselves. Your throat constricts and you feel your heart clench once again.

With his cock deep inside your ass, you don’t think you’ve ever felt more connected to him than you do right now. Hoseok feeds the last inch of his cock inside you, his hips pressing against the fleshy cheeks of your ass. When you feel your ass swallow the last inch of his shaft, you cry out in pleasure. Heavy lids beckon you to shut them, but you refuse. You want to savour this moment. Right here, right now, you want to remember everything.

Eyes raking over him - you ingrain this one memory into the back of your head. The way the corded muscles of his arm twitch, braced on either side of you. Deep chocolate eyes staring at you, his warm obs half-lidded and fluttering as he tries his best to hold still and not fuck into you. How the muscles of his abdomen ripple under his skin as his cock pulsates inside you, synchronous to the way your ass contracts around his shaft. All of it. You commit it all to your memory - because if this is the last time you have him in your bed, and inside you, you never want to forget it.

Tears pool in your eyes, but you blink them away. Seeing them, Hoseok bends over and presses gentle kisses to your lids, hushing you softly. You have no doubt that he thinks it’s due to his cock in your ass - but it’s not. It’s so much more than that. It’s the feeling of fullness, of wholeness, as you feel him deep inside your stomach. It’s the way your hurt aches looking at him - wishing he was yours for the rest of your lifetime. It’s the way you’re completely in love with him - your best friend - the only constant in your life these past few years.

“Are you okay?” Hoseok whispers, his nose brushing against yours. You close your eyes at the tender action. A part of you wishes he wasn’t so sweet - that he wasn’t so… Hoseok - just so that this would be a little less overwhelming - so your feelings wouldn’t be so overpowering. But he is sweet, and he is Hoseok, and you’re so desperately in love with him that you wish to feel him deeper into you.

A deep shuddering breath exhales from your nose, “I’ve never been better. Please move. I want to feel you,” you reply. You’ve never spoken truer words - because despite the staggering weight of emotions you feel for him, you haven’t been better and you do want to feel him - entirely and absolutely.

At your words, Hoseok slowly moves his cock - retreating it out of you before thrusting back in. Each plunge has his cock dragging against your inner ass muscles, the ridged veins of his shaft only adding to your pleasure. Slowly, Hoseok begins thrusting into you - his hips snapping against your fleshy cheeks with every plunge. He doesn’t move quickly - keeping his pace slow and mind-numbing - but he moves deep, his cock burying to the hilt with every movement.

White-hot pleasure begins racing through you, your veins searing in pleasure. Every time his cock impales you, you’re pushed closer and closer to the precipice of your orgasm. Hoseok senses your impending orgasms, the hot muscles of your ass erratically clenching around his cock; subsequently, your pussy clenches around nothing - dribbling your wetness over the seam of your ass: only adding to the lubrication.

“Are you cumming, Sweetness?” Hoseok asks. He dips further down, his torso pressing against your shins. The weight of his body against your legs forces your limbs further against your chest and you groan in pleasure. Impossibly, the change in angle has him hitting deeper inside you - so deep you feel him within the back of your stomach.

“P-Please,” you stutter out. Rapturous ecstasy flits through you, teasing and taunting at your being as you feel yourself teeter towards the brink of your orgasm.

One hand twists between your body, and suddenly, you feel Hoseok’s fingers against your pussy. Your eyes snap wide open, coming face to face with dark coffee eyes. Hoseok’s fingers thrum against your pulsating, engorged bud - working the bundle of nerves with his deft digits. “Cum, ____. Cum for me,” Hoseok urges.

The soft command, paired with the way he still relentless drags his cock in and out of your ass, and his fingers dancing across your clit, has you careening off of the edge and straight into pleasure. Back twisting off the bed, your head falls back as you cry out. Thighs trembling, you feel elated bliss course through your veins; a rush of euphoria searing across your skin as you cum.

From above you, Hoseok lets out a grunt. Your pussy clenches around nothing - but he can feel the force on the contractions mirrored in the muscles of your ass. His pace turning erratic, he thrusts a few more times inside you. When his balls tighten, he pushes as deep into your ass as he can. Cock swelling inside you, you cry out when he spills his cum inside you. Rope after rope of thick, warm cum fills you up - coating your internal walls and bathing you in his seed.

Euphoria blitzing through him, Hoseok’s tongue loosens from his own mind-numbing pleasure and you hear him slur something out. Despite the haze fog that clouds your mind, his words register as clear as day in your mind and you find yourself grounded to reality instantly.

With wide eyes, your gaze flits over him - looking at him in a mixture of utter disbelief and hope. You watch as he heaves for air from above you, in a bid to satiate the burn in his lungs. Once he’s pulled himself together, his eyes open and you once again meet warm umber eyes. Seeing your mouth open wide, shock apparent on your face, Hoseok’s eyebrows twist into confusion.

“Did you mean it?” you whisper. Your question only has his brows knitting further together.

“Mean what?” he rasps out. Despair washes over your face and you feel that inkling of hope wither inside you, tears stinging at your eyes. Seeing the signs of distress clear on you, Hoseok’s eyes widen in alarm. Slowly, he pulls his cock out of you. You wince at the sensitivity, his cum spilling out of your ass. Ignoring the feeling, you bite your lip and press the heels of your palms against your eyes - willing the tears away.

Immediately, Hoseok’s hands are gently wrapping around your wrists. Slowly, he tugs them away from your eyes - even as you resist. “What’s wrong? What did I say?” Hoseok practically pleads, imploring you with his earnest eyes. You shake your head, not wanting to repeat the words. “____,” Hoseok breathes out, urging you once again.

Hearing the pleading tone, your face crumples, “you said you love me,” you whisper out. Hoseok stiffens above you before he grows quiet. You shut your eyes, turning your head and bracing yourself for his imminent rejection.

“Would it be so bad if I do?” Hoseok asks. Your eyes snap open at his broken voice. Frantically, you search his eyes for any trace of a lie, or insincerity. When you find none, however, your heart flutters in your chest. From above you, Hoseok sighs, before running a hand through his vermillion hair. “You don’t have to say anything. I don’t expect you to reciprocate and I definitely didn’t mean to tell you like this but- but I do. I love you, so much,” Hoseok confesses. His words are like music to your ears, and a different type of elation thrums through you.

“I’m sorry if this changes things-” Hoseok continues.

Unable to help yourself, and a rush of euphoria drumming through your soul, “I think having your cock in my ass is what changed things,” you giggle. Halting at your words, Hoseok’s eyelids widen slightly. Gaze raking over you, he takes in the sight of your satiated smile and twinkling eyes.

“What-” he begins. However, you only giggle in exuberance once again.

Sobering at the slight hurt in his eyes, you smile gently at him. Straining your arms, you cup his cheeks. Then, lifting your head, you ignore the way your muscles twitch in protest. Instead, you place a tender kiss against his lip. “I love you too, Hoseok” you confess - reiterating his previous sentiments.

“Wait- are you serious?” Hoseok splutters in incredulity. Nodding with a giggle, you press another kiss to his lips.

“I’m serious. I love you,” you repeat. This time, Hoseok searches your eyes for any sign of deceit - but like you, he finds none. A large grin curls onto his face, and suddenly, he’s giggling alongside you.

“Have we been in love with each other this entire time?” he asks, shaking his head in exasperation at the thought. You can’t help but chuckle, your cheeks aching from smiling so hard.

“In a way, it makes sense. It’s always been me and you,” you respond.

Hoseok’s face crumples, his eyes softening. Then, he’s bending down and pressing a kiss to your temple. “Yeah… always me and you,” he breathes out. Moving above you, you feel his cock brush against your wet folds. Hissing in pleasure, your hands fall to his ass: fingers gripping his soft, plump cheeks.

“H-Hobi,” you mewl out, instinctively bucking into him.

“Round two already?” he chuckles.

With another nod, you press a kiss against him, “I want to feel you again,” you whisper against his lips. At your words, Hoseok groans. Dragging his cock against your folds, he positions the tip at your entrance.

Then, with one smooth thrust, he slides home into you.

a/n: god if it wasn’t obvious i fucking love jung hoseok

⇥ Kofi | Masterlist

1K notes · View notes

ampleappleamble · 3 years

Text

—

Chomp. Slurp. Smack.

He glanced up at the group of foreigners. Nothing.

Slorp. Crunch.

Still nothing.

Hiravias was beginning to wonder if he was wasting his time.

He knelt over the still-warm deer carcass, watching the strange little party as they stood just beyond the treeline, talking and stretching and tending to one another's wounds while he licked the blood from his fingers, pulling each digit from his mouth with a loud sucking, popping noise. Ordinarily he'd never eat so ostentatiously– it was never a good idea to draw attention to oneself while eating in the wild, unless one liked having one's hard-earned kill stolen away by something bigger, stronger, and hungrier than oneself. But they still wouldn't look his way, and by now he was starting to feel full. Wael's bowels, how much more loudly am I gonna have to chew before they hear me and decide it's worth investigating? Maybe I should just throw a handful of offal at them instead.

It was unlike him to be so indirect with his intentions, but one never could tell how some estramorwn would to react to a tiny, hairy man openly approaching them with a toothy smile and copious amounts of blood smeared all over his hands and face and clothes. So he had decided to play it safe and try to lure them to him, although he had apparently underestimated either the foreigners' capacity for curiosity or the limits of their sensory perception. These foreigners were the strangest he'd seen out here in a long time, and he was dying to talk to them– for instance, there was only one Dyrwoodan among them, if their accents were anything to go by, and he actually seemed to be taking orders from the orlan in the group. That alone was reason enough to try to insinuate himself into their company, just to find out what was going on there.

He had a few other reasons for seeking their attention, of course. And they were curiosity-based, too. Mostly. Hiravias let his gaze drift slowly over the orlan woman as she allowed the feathered Ocean folk to lay her hand on the curve of her furry hip, a soft, golden glow emanating from the Godlike's fingertips. The orlan woman sighed in relief as the bruise marring her tawny skin faded in the golden light, and she smiled up at the other woman with gratitude, her thick, full lips parting just so, her long eyelashes fluttering.

He pulled his thumb from his mouth with a loud, wet pop.

The Ocean folk woman whipped her head around suddenly to face in his direction. "We are being watched," she hissed, her hawk's eyes narrowing as she searched the underbrush.

Finally! He feigned surprise at being "discovered" as best as he cared to, freezing and holding up his gore-streaked hands when the adventurers charged over, cautious but not aggressive. Yet.

"Woah, there, sorry if I startled you," he grinned, relishing the looks of confusion and disgust he was inspiring on the shiny new faces before him. "I was just enjoying the bounty of nature a little too enthusiastically, I guess. By the way, this isn't your forest, is it? Because if it is, you need a better game warden." He turned his head and spit out a wayward wad of gristle before wiping his mouth on his sleeve, and the wood elf in their party actually gagged and turned away. Hiravias couldn't help but feel an odd sense of satisfaction at that.

The orlan woman, on the other hand, seemed to relax a bit at his words. "I don't think Stormwall Gorge is in my jurisdiction, no. You took this deer down by yourself?"

"A stelgaer killed it, actually," Hiravias replied, smiling pleasantly. Not quite a lie. "A rather large and ornery one. Although the deer had a badly malformed heart and would have been dead within the year even if the stelgaer had never crossed its path. I'd show you, but, well, it was also a very delicious heart." He gestured to the carcass, spreading his arms wide before him. "Here, be my guest. There's no way I can eat all of this myself!"

The dwarf actually stepped forward, her eyes lighting up like stars in the night sky. "I call the shank," she said, drawing a knife while the fox at her knee slavered, panting eagerly. Everyone else remained where they were, their grimaces slowly intensifying.

"And here I thought Sagani was the only raw-meat-eater I was liable to encounter in the Dyrwood," the orlan woman chuckled, indicating the dwarf woman with a tilt of her chin. "You don't cook either, huh?"

"What, and burn out all the flavor? Wreck that incredible texture?" Hiravias scoffed, shaking his head. "Galawain would strike me down where I stood for disrespecting one of His beasts in such a manner, and for damned good reason, too! I mean, look at this–" He dug into the creature's guts and pulled out a fat, juicy loop of intestines. "How is this not appetizing?"

He held the viscera out to her, trying valiantly to fight the mischievous grin twitching into place on his face, but he couldn't quite help himself. "Here, go on. It's the best part! You won't regret it!"

She fixed her eyes on his, a smirk of her own slowly crawling across her lips as she crossed her arms beneath her ample bosom. "You first," she murmured, her voice low and smooth and sultry.

Well, shit, woman, say it like that and how can I refuse?

Feeling a bit sophomoric, but determined not to give up, Hiravias defiantly returned her stare as he stuffed the pink, glistening tube into his mouth and began chewing– and of course, instantly regretting it. "Mmmmm," he managed, performatively rubbing his belly even as he winced and drooled. "S-so... good..." The taste of shit and lingering digestive acids mingled in his mouth. So much for my full stomach.

The aumaua towering above them all choked out a half-laugh, half-groan. "My friend," he declared, "I somehow seriously doubt that."

"Desgant," the bird woman spat, baring her teeth in a disgusted scowl. She didn't look away, though, so Hiravias counted that as at least a partial victory. The dwarf and her fox watched, too, silently filling up on strips of raw venison with only mild bemusement on their faces. He was definitely in there.

Finally he swallowed, although it took him a couple of tries. "Well! Now I know it had elderberries for its last meal. Praise be to Wael for the revelation!" He wiped his mouth again, shuddering, and held out his filthy hand for a shake. "Name's Hiravias, by the way. It's been a good long while since I've shared a meal with such pleasant company, so... thank you for tolerating me." The little woman nodded, smiling, but she kept her hand out of his.

The Dyrwoodan snapped his fingers suddenly, pointing at Hiravias and grinning as though he'd finally solved some great and vexing mystery. "Oh! I got it. You're Glanfathan, ain't ya?"

He barked a short, sharp laugh in response. "This is the brains of the operation, then?"

"What Edér lacks in intellectual prowess, he more than makes up for in other fields, trust me." The orlan woman's smile turned kind as she gently patted the folk man's wrist. "I'm Axa Mala, the... the Watcher of Caed Nua." She almost seemed to have to force the words, as though she wasn't quite used to associating herself with that title just yet. It made him think of the Autumn Stelgaer, a pang of sympathy striking his heart. "What's a nice Waelite like you doing in a place like this, then?"

"Me? Oh, seeing what there is to see, eating what there is to eat, experiencing the wonders of this strange and beautiful and world the gods have blessed us with." He dipped his head low in reverence for a moment before peeking back up at her. "I'm a Druid of the Circle of Hawk and Ivy of the Fisher Crane tribe, you see, and I've been all over Eir Glanfath a few times over now, even pushed into the Dyrwood where I thought I could get away with it without having to face down a bunch of drunken meatheads calling me a hairy little face-painting catfucker. But I have to say, throughout all my travels over the years, I've never had the good fortune to meet a Watcher before."

Her smile broadened even as her eyes narrowed. "And you'd like to see more of this Watcher, is that it?" She may have taken a while to get rolling, but she sure caught up fast. "Well, a Druid's talents could certainly be a boon to us, as well as a native Glanfathan's knowledge of the land and the locations of Engwithan ru– uh." She stopped abruptly, her face blanching as she reflexively readjusted her satchel, pushing it a bit further behind her back. "Not that– we don't– I mean, uh..."

Right. There was that. He'd been so caught up in actually talking to other kith again– another orlan, at that, and not a Dyrwoodan orlan with that depressing, beaten-down, high-strung, constant-victim-of-horrendous-bigotry baggage they tended to suffer from– that he'd almost forgotten that they were a bunch of grave-robbing ruin defilers. He'd watched them descend into Lle a Rhemen hours before, and then he'd watched them emerge with their rucksacks bulging, and although his old protective instincts had flared up inside of him, the familiar rage and indignation wrapping around him like a fiery blanket, instead of shifting and pouncing on them or bidding the earth to open up beneath them, he'd just... watched. Waited. Thought. And now, in place of any lingering urge to gut them, he found himself wanting nothing more than to walk with them, talk with them. It had been so long since he'd run with a pack, and even though they were estramorwn with no respect for the land or for the Builders, they were at least kind to him and easy to talk to. And he knew he'd be lying to himself if he said he wasn't itching to find out what secrets lay buried inside the ruins of the Builders, just a little bit...

"You don't what?" Hiravias huffed, hands flexing at his sides, clenching them into fists over and over. "I didn't see you do anything. ...Maybe the gods did, and if so they'll rend your soul asunder when it passes the Veil, as would be your richly deserved fate, but..." He shrugged, forcing a smile. "This eyepatch isn't just for show, y'know; I really am half-blind. So maybe chance had it that my blind side was facing you when you did... whatever it is you did or didn't do."

Axa scratched at the back of her neck, blushing, not quite able to look at the Glanfathan. "Yeah, I, uh... noticed your Eye of Wael, there." The conversation lulled awkwardly for a moment, until suddenly she smiled at him again, her whole face lighting up. "Hey! Wanna help us track down some assholes who stole scripture from a temple of Wael? Maybe it'll redeem me a little in Their eyes, if indeed I've offended Them."

The aumaua brightened up as well. "Ondra's teeth, I'd very nearly forgotten about that! Will we go to Searing Falls as well?" He leaned toward Hiravias, his smile as bright as the sun and twice as big. "We were asked to go there by a priestess of Magran, you see, on a quest to realize a mysterious vision from her fiery Mistress..."

Edér frowned. "Hey, you said you'd take us to that battlefield where my brother died, look for clues there. ...I guess he ain't gettin' any deader, though, so it's no real rush. Just... you know. Be nice to get some answers, if we can."

Axa gave Hiravias a pointed look. "Well, you heard. Scrolls of Waelite wisdom, mysterious visions, and answers from beyond the grave. We'll have you if you'll have us. You in?"

He ran his tongue over his pointed teeth, smile broadening as he shouldered his pack. "With a pitch like that, how could I resist?"

—

#pillars of eternity #poe anthem infinitum #fic wip #first foray into writing hiravias!#party management soon to follow #thanks for reading ♡

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undertalethingems · 4 years

Text

Bark at the Moon, Chapter 6: Slip Through

Or read on my Ao3>

Rating, Setting: Gen, Pre-canon

Chapter Warnings: None?

Chapter Summary: No longer so alone, Papyrus is ready to tackle finding his brother--with Undyne's help, he's sure to find something...

“Okay! It should be late enough that most people'll be home for the night, so chances are no one will spot you, much less recognize you. That should take care of your concerns about being seen, right?”

"Good point," Papyrus agreed, taking another spoonful of the hearty soup Undyne had made. It was a little hard to grip his silverware, so eating was slow, but it was nice to have something hot so he wanted to savor it anyway. At least Undyne was way better at making soup than spaghetti. "It does make me a tad less trousled."

Undyne smiled. "Good. Once you're done there we'll get cleaned up and head out, okay?"

The rest of the evening was relatively quiet--the two traded banter while Papyrus finished his dinner, then they worked together to do the dishes and put things away. And then, all too soon--it was time to start their investigation, which meant stepping into a world Papyrus didn't know that he belonged in. He was sure it was just as ready for him as he was for it--which was to say, not at all.

But Undyne beckoned, and Papyrus shook himself out before reluctantly headed for the door. The outside world loomed, and for a moment he hesitated.... No, he needed to leave. Drawing a deep breath, he stepped out for what felt like the first time in ages. It was strange, feeling the cold again and snow crunching under his claws. But... it was so open... so spacious... he needed to run, to express all the energy he'd had to bottle up!

He tore off towards the nearby clearing, delighting in the wind rushing and newfound strength coursing through him as he galloped down the road. This was where he belonged! Out and about, doing, being! Not cooped up at home, that was sure. He barreled into the snow and rolled around, then got back to his feet and shook the snow from his bones. Oh that felt good! He was fully refreshed, like he'd finally shed the gloom that had washed over him in his house.

Undyne was laughing when she caught up with him, happy to see him acting more like his old self. “Feels good to get out, huh? Being a homebody doesn’t suit you. Alright, now, where do you think Sans might have gone?”

Papyrus stroked his chin. “Well, it's difficult to say, but his basic needs are a place to sleep and bad food... but no one’s reported him from Grillby’s, right?”

“No,” Undyne frowned. “You’d think that’s the first thing we’d hear about—it was Grillby himself who asked me to check up on him… so he’s either still going, or Grillby hasn’t gotten nervous yet. Seems like a good place to start either way!”

Papyrus nodded, and together they turned to head for the restaurant. It glowed a welcoming amber in the subterranean night, but Papyrus declined to enter the establishment, both on account of his current state as well as being firmly opposed to grease as a concept. So he sat in the snow opposite the building as Undyne went in, hoping there'd be lead on his brother. Grillby was, despite how Papyrus felt about the quality of his cooking, a good monster who knew his regulars well. And even if Sans was mad and avoiding him, surely he wouldn't avoid his favorite food.

“No one’s seen him,” Undyne relayed when she’d returned, looking downcast. “Grillby says he stopped coming about two and a half weeks ago. He was about to call me again, actually, it’s kinda funny.”

“Two and a half weeks… that’s when you came to visit.”

“Right,” Undyne said with a wincing smile. “So the timeframe matches… and… I guess there’s something else weird. Grillby almost didn’t tell me--he wasn't sure it was relevant. But… apparently he’s had kids come in a couple times now and order a few burgers to go. When they got asked by one of the other customers what they were for, all they said was that it was some flower monster who wanted them.”

Papyrus blinked. A flower.... “Why would a flower monster need someone to buy burgers for them?

“Dunno, but… Grillby said that what struck him as odd… was that it’s Sans’ favorite they keep ordering, and nothing else. They even ask for extra ketchup.”

“Hmm…” Papyrus trailed, not sure what to make of this information. A certain flower had been his friend in timelines past. Maybe he’d decided to become Sans’ friend this time around? He couldn't be sure, and it made him uneasy. He wasn't always his friend.

“Yeah, I dunno either,” Undyne continued, “but everyone asked how you were and what was up, so they miss you a lot. You better figure this thing out soon or you might have a visiting party from the dogs.”

“I… I’m touched,” Papyrus said softly; he hadn’t thought anyone would pay his absence any mind. They were all Sans’ friends, not his…

“Yeah! I told them you were taking a good long vacation since you tend to overwork yourself, and they bought it, but I think everyone’s looking forward to seeing you guys back in action. Anyway! I say we try and find this flower guy and talk to him. Ask him what he’s doing with those burgers.”

“…It is our only lead,” Papyrus agreed, narrowing his eyes. “If he’s hanging out with Sans, then that would certainly explain it.”

“Alright. I’ve always wanted to do a stakeout,” Undyne grinned, flashing her fangs. “Based on what Grillby told me, those kids should show up tomorrow. Let’s wait here all night and make sure we don’t miss ‘em.”

“An excellent strategy! I am with you one zillion percent!”

The two friends hunkered down in the snow just off the road and out of sight. Undyne couldn’t keep from shivering after a few hours in, so Papyrus darted back home to retrieve a blanket for her. It looked a little conspicuous draped over her shoulders, so with her approval he buried her in snow and left only a small space open for her to peer through. Halfway into the morning she was apparently cozy enough to fall asleep, but Papyrus didn’t mind. He could keep watch in the meantime.

It was just after Grillby unlocked his door for the morning that a trio of kids ran up—a pair of bunnies and a little reptilian child. They greeted the fire monster brightly, and he nodded to them before letting them stumble in. Papyrus prodded Undyne in her side, and she yelped—he’d forgotten he had particularly sharp digits now—but it got the message across. She tossed the blanket aside, shedding snow as she stood.

“Okay. You ready to do this?”

“I was born ready!” Papyrus replied, crouching in anticipation.

“Okay! I want you to stay back and track behind us while I get the kids to take me to the flower. I don't want anything to go unnoticed, so you'll keep an eye on the whole thing. Understand?”

“Oh… Yes! What a cunning plan! We will soon learn the truth with you at the helm!”

“Heck yeah! Alright, shh, here they come.”

The kids skipped from Grillby's, each with a small bag in their arms—or, in the little reptilian child’s case, their mouth. Papyrus could smell the grease from here, and regretted having such a powerful sense of smell in this form. At least it would make them easy to follow. He watched them trot down the street towards Waterfall, giggling and chatting to each other as they walked, discussing what they’d do with the extra money they were making. So, someone really was paying them to buy bad decisions…

Undyne waited until they were a bit further down the road to make her move, stepping out from the sidelines to follow them. Papyrus stayed within the trees, swift and silent on his feet as he trailed them, wondering where all this would lead.

“Hey guys!” Undyne called, waving casually to the trio as she caught up with them just outside Waterfall. They turned to face her, and the reptile dropped their bag on account of their jaw falling open.

“Oh my gosh! Yo! It’s Undyne!” the child exclaimed in a stunned whisper. “Act cool, she’s only the most awesome monster in the whole Underground!”

The bunnies exchanged looks, but smiled politely as the captain approached.

“You kids off to have a picnic?” she began, and the little ones milled around a bit before one of the bunnies answered.

“Um, no…”

“Really? Can I ask where you're taking those burgers then?”

The reptilian was quick to answer. “There’s this flower guy who loves ‘em! But his roots keep him from going inside Grillby’s, plus it's too cold for him in Snowdin anyway, so he has to ask us kids to get ‘em for him! We’re helping our fellow monsters, just like you want us to!”

“Good job,” Undyne said proudly. “Hey, I kinda want to meet this guy. Think I could tag along?”

“Um, I guess so?” the other bunny answered, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s nothing real special.”

The kids led the way with Undyne in tow, and Papyrus couldn’t help but feel hopeful. He kept just out of sight as they wound through the dark, damp halls of Waterfall, crossed the bridge, and came to a field of echo flowers. Amid the whispering expanse of eerie blue, there was a bright spot of yellow. It was a flower with face, stretched with a cheery smile.

“Howdy kids!” the flower chirped brightly. “Oh boy, you brought a new friend! Could this be the Undyne you’ve told me so much about?”

“It totally is!” the reptilian answered gleefully, dropping their bag again as they hopped. “She wanted to meet you! You’re sooo lucky!”

“I sure am!” the plant replied, but Papyrus thought there was something just a bit off in his expression. “And hey, looks like you brought everything else too!”

“Here you go, mister Flowey,” one of the bunnies said as the trio handed their bags over. “You must like burgers a whole lot if you eat so many. Doesn’t your momma tell you you’ll get sick if you eat too much of them?”

“Well, you wanna know something real sad? Flowers don’t exactly have moms,” Flowey replied, and the children gasped sadly.

“Yo, you never had a mom?!”

“That is so sad…”

“Miss Undyne, did you know he didn’t have a momma?!”

Undyne sighed. “Not everyone’s that lucky. You guys run home and hug your moms extra hard, okay?”

“Okay!” the trio chorused.

“Hey, but enough of that for now!” Flowey spoke again. “You guys have been a big help! Here’s your tip, hee hee!”

He tossed each of the kids a little sack of gold using a thin vine, and the three ran off, giggling and waving. Undyne stayed behind, as did Flowey. The two eyed one another for a moment, until Undyne broke the quiet.

“Listen, I won’t keep you long, but I came with those kids because I need to ask you something. I need to know if you’ve seen or know the whereabouts of a man named Sans. He’s a skeleton monster about yea tall, and tends to wear a blue jacket and black shorts. Know him?”

“Hmm…” Flowey tapped a vine to his chin. “Doesn’t sound familiar. Can I ask why you’re looking for him? Did he do something bad?”

“No. He went missing about two weeks ago, and we were given the impression you might know something,” Undyne replied, folding her arms.

“Who told you that? I’m just a flower, I don’t get out much,” Flowey replied, looking offended.

“Well… from what we’ve heard, that’s when you started asking those kids to get burgers for you, and they happen to be Sans’ favorite.”

“...That’s your lead? Really?” Flowey scoffed as he reached into the closest bag to unwrap a burger and bit into it. “Listen. I’m stuck out here in Waterfall. It took me forever to come across anything like Grillby’s cooking, and now, I can’t get enough of it. Can you really blame me for asking my fellow monsters to help a guy out? Is that so wrong?”

“Well, no,” Undyne huffed. “But—”

“Listen, I’m sorry to hear about this Sans guy, and I hope you find him. But I just really like these burgers. I had no idea he liked them too—hey, I can’t blame him, hee hee! I’ll let you know if I see anything, but this is the first I’ve even heard of him,” Flowey said, tilting his head in a shrug before taking another bite. Undyne pursed her lips.

“Well, thanks, I guess. Sorry to bother you. Let the Guard know if you do find anything.”

She marched away with brows furrowed, and Papyrus lingered to watch Flowey just a bit longer. Flowey waited until she was definitely out of the room to spit his mouthful of food out, his lip curled as he glared in her direction. Then he gathered up the bags with his vines and disappeared into the earth.

Papyrus went from feeling disappointed to terrified.

His magic pulsing through him in a panicked rush, he left his spot in the shadows to investigate where Flowey had vanished. He found a small mound of upturned soil and no other physical signs, but there was a smell. Not the smell of fresh grease from Grillby’s, nor the scent of clammy mud and grass, though all were present. No, this was a smell that made his magic coil so tensely in his chest he thought it might burst, a smell that made him shiver from skull to tailtip at its presence.

It was the faint smell of earthy bone and stale ketchup.

Flowey was a liar.

Flowey was, very often, not a good person and wouldn’t even try sometimes. Papyrus had hoped that with the dearth of resets lately he might have given up on playing with everyone’s lives, but it seemed this was not the case. He still hoped, naturally, that one day Flowey would make the right choice, but with him acting the way he had, and Sans being how he was now…

Papyrus groaned. Maybe Sans was happy. He was alive, at least, and even if Flowey had him trapped somewhere, somehow, he was getting out of work, probably napping a lot and being brought his favorite food. He’d said himself that was all Sans really needed… Maybe Sans just didn’t want to come home after all. He hoped it was like that.

“Papyrus…?” Undyne’s voice echoed from down the corridor, and he perked up. He glanced back down at the little clump of dirt where Flowey had been, and pushed his heartbreak aside. If Sans was happy somewhere, then so was he. He heaved a sigh, and trotted to catch up with his captain.

"Did you see something?" Undyne asked when he caught up, and he glanced around before answering in a low voice.

"No, not a thing! How frustrating," he huffed. "I suppose there's nothing for it but to keep waiting. However long that is..."

Undyne considered his words, then turned to him with a grin. "Hey! Rather than stay cooped up in your house again, how about you come over to mine? You know, for a sleepover."

Papyrus blinked. "Really?"

"Sure! I also know a couple spots where NO ONE ever comes, so we can hang out there and you don't have to worry about being seen. That'd be pretty nice, right?"

Papyrus was taken aback. "Well, certainly, b-but--are you sure that's proper? F-for you? There's etiquette and such, I read it in the Royal Guard handbook handbook."

"Psh, I don't care about what's proper! All that etiquette stuff is a TOTAL DRAG! AND! I'M THE CAPTAIN! I DECIDE WHAT RULES TO ENFORCE! And I say SCREW 'EM! I care about my friend, who's been stuck alone in his house for way too long. It'll be fun!"

Papyrus hemmed and hawed. Was it really okay...? Undyne thought so, and after everything today he wasn't sure he could take being alone another night. She had called him her friend... he almost couldn't believe it... But he knew he shouldn't stay by himself again. "Um... well... alright. It does sound nice."

"HECK yeah it does!" Undyne beamed, punching him in the shoulder playfully. "Now come on, I dunno about you but we've been out long enough. Let's head back to my place."

Papyrus let her lead the way along the winding corridors and yawning chasms of Waterfall until they reached the quiet corner where Undyne's house sat. He followed her in and immediately slipped on the ceramic tile floor, his legs sliding out from under him with a scrape. He groaned, and Undyne stifled a laugh as she helped him stand.

"I guess there is one problem with you staying here," she teased as they hobbled over to the table together. "Good thing it's not a big one!"

"Just embarrassing," Papyrus griped as he sat, carefully balancing with all four feet crammed on the chair. He drummed his claws as Undyne puttered around the kitchen, making what turned out to be tea.

"Figured something warm would be nice," she said, setting a cup before him as she joined him, and for a little while they sat quietly as it cooled. But Undyne always got contemplative when she made tea, and it wasn't long before she spoke. "You know... it's weird, but... I've gotten pretty used to you being like this. It's actually really cool."

"You mean it?" Papyrus asked, and she nodded.

"Yeah! I don't think any other monster can transform like you do, and into this awesome skeleton... beast thing? If I were a human, I'd surrender after just looking at you!"

Papyrus fidgeted. "Well, I suppose that's good..."

He didn't really want to be intimidating. That'd been what he wanted. A reason why they hadn't been allowed to change.

Apparently his discomfort was obvious, because Undyne's mood shifted. "But... being scary... that's not your style, huh? You really don't want to look like this. And it's been getting to you, and now Sans too... Maybe I'm way off, but I get the feeling... this isn't really something you want, and it's actually kind of serious."

"It's nothing to be worried about!" Papyrus uttered quickly. "I'm fine! I just miss my fashions, and my dashing good looks, and holding things like a person who doesn't have sharp claws! And fitting in my bed without having to fold myself up, and going grocery shopping, and not being trapped in my own home, and--and--"

"Hey, easy there," Undyne soothed, extending a hand across the table. "I know it's been rough on you, and Sans being gone hasn't helped. But we'll find him, and you'll get through this. Uh... hey! We should go shopping together sometime! There's whole sections for monsters with your body type, you've got all kinds of options open now. That sounds fun, right?"

Papyrus managed a laugh. "I suppose. I... I guess I ought to consider the fact this is my life now..."

He didn't want to give up. He wasn't going to! He just... had to accept that for the foreseeable future, this was how things would be. He'd said as much to Sans, hadn't he? That they should embrace all that they were? As much as he wanted to go back to his other form... he should just accept this one for now.

"That's a good idea, Undyne. Thank you. I think I should just forget worrying about it."

Undyne smiled, though not as widely as she liked to. "That might be the best idea. I also think... we should get some rest. We sorta stayed up most of the night."

She squinted for a moment.

"And now that I think about it, we didn't really need to. It's not like those kids were gonna show up at 3am..."

Papyrus chuckled. "Nyeh heh, but we were ready! Who knows! Maybe they had planned a daring escapade, sneaking out from under their parent's noses to acquire illicit grease!"

"Well, they wouldn't have gotten very far, considering Grillby's was closed by then."

"That's! A fair point. Whatever, we still had fun!"

Undyne grinned. "Yeah we did. But, I'm pretty worn out from all that, and I've still gotta patrol later, so we should rest."

"I suppose. I'm not sleepy, but... Some time to 'chill' might be nice..."

"Sounds good to me. I'm gonna take a nap, you can hang out here. Help yourself to any snacks, I don't mind."

"Okay. I will be polite about it, not to worry! Now, if it were Sans, you might..." he started to joke, but sadness overcame him. "Sans... I hope he's really okay..."

"I'm sure he's fine, wherever he is," Undyne replied, the slightest edge to her voice. "Come on, let's relax and not worry about things for a bit. You're not gonna find him any faster by stressing."

He let her take the lead again, helping her lay some spare blankets on the floor so he wasn't constantly sliding around and had a place to lay down if he wanted. But once she retired to her room, he was left in the quiet of her home. And there was nothing to keep his thoughts from echoing louder and louder within his skull.

Where was Sans? Was Flowey really responsible for his disappearance? What did he want with him anyway? If he was handling this so poorly, how was Sans holding up? Would he be alright? It hadn't been too long since he left, but in the state of mind he'd been in, and how stressed they'd been before--it had only taken him a few days to slip into old habits. Even without Flowey interfering, would Sans still...?

Papyrus curled up in the blankets and shivered as quietly as he could.

At breakfast the next day, Undyne let him know he could stay as long as he wanted, and he agreed--it was a major improvement over staying in his home alone. But as generous as Undyne's offer was, her house was even smaller than his and it only took a couple days for him to get antsy again. She came back from a shift to find him attempting to walk on the ceiling using blue magic, and her startled shout broke his concentration. He fell most of the way before catching himself and floating the rest, landing deftly on his feet. He fidgeted sheepishly under her perplexed gaze before explaining.

"I. Um. Was very bored."

Undyne blinked, and rubbed her forehead with a finger as she stepped the rest of the way into her house. "I can tell, but now there's claw marks in the plaster."

"Sorry."

"Hah! It actually looks rad, so don't worry about it. But geez, I guess being cooped up in one house isn't much better than being cooped up in another. Do I need to get you like, a chew toy or something?"

Papyrus lowered his brows. "That sounds nice... and I hate it."

"Gotcha. I just know it helps the dogs stay focused on a slow shift. I could check some stuff out of the library?"

"I've already read most of my books back home, I don't know if I want to read more..." Papyrus sighed, laying down dejectedly. "I want to do things..."

Undyne frowned. "Man, I really hate seeing you like this... And you're dead-set on not going outside?"

"Not where anyone can see," Papyrus huffed. "If Sans were here, he could just take me somewhere with a shortcut... but I guess he had better things to do."

"Hey, I know he's happy to slack off and ditch anything that looks like work, but I don't believe for a second he'd completely abandon you," Undyne snapped. "He's out there somewhere, and we'll find him--but for now, you're getting out of the house."

"How?!"

"I told you, I know some spots that are way out of the way--no one'll ever see you. I usually use 'em to train.. or.... um... reenact scenes from human history stuff Alphys has shown me... But! It's perfect! I've got another patrol in a bit, so we can head over now and you can hang out there until I'm done. How's that sound?"

Papyrus mulled it over. "And you promise no one will see?"

Undyne nodded firmly. "You have my word. C'mon, let's get some snacks and stuff for you and get going."

"Um... maybe I will take that chew toy too. Just in case."

Undyne beamed, and together they packed a small sling of supplies. Together, they snuck furtively through passages and halls before coming to a grotto leading up a cliff face. Undyne rolled her shoulders, then vaulted up the walls, quickly scaling them; after only a few moments of consideration, Papyrus followed her, leaping most of the way before digging in with his claws and hauling himself the rest of the way up. They traversed another passage, ducking stalactites and squeezing through when the passage narrowed to a fraction of its original width. It was clear why no one ever came this way--it was a hassle just to get through.

But finally the hall opened into a sizable cavern, illuminated by massive spires of glowing crystals, and a still lake filled one side towards the back. A cliff thrust dramatically over the water, and Papyrus instantly knew Undyne used it to practice monologues. No wonder she liked this spot.

"We're here!" she said cheerfully, spinning on her heel to face him as she gestured at the scenery. "I've explored every cranny of this place. There are no other offshoots of any tunnels, and it's so far away no one can hear you scream as you reach your next power level. You can do whatever you want here!"

"Thank you for showing it to me, Undyne. But now I know this secret about you," Papyrus teased.

"And if you tell anyone, I'll have to kill you," Undyne replied, a smile still on her face.

"I gladly accept!"

Undyne coughed laughing. "Oh my god! Papyrus!"

"Not to worry, Undyne, I only jest! I would never tell anyone your secrets. I'd say my lips are sealed, but I don't have any!"

Undyne burst out laughing again, and Papyrus waved his tail from side to side--joking around with Undyne always made him feel better. It was too bad she had to leave, but she had a job to do.

"Well hey, I gotta head out, but we'll hang out here after I'm done, okay?" she promised, and he watched her go feeling optimistic. He still hated having to stay away from everyone, but... at least this place was big enough to run around in.

He turned to study the cavern once more--then unhooked the sling of goodies from his spines and took off, dashing around the room, splashing through the shallows of the lake, climbing the rock formations only to leap and take off again. Oh, to run and jump and move again, why, he could just--

He opened his jaws wide to let a beam of pure magic sear through the air. He snapped his mouth shut and skidded to a halt in surprise--oh. Too soon. He'd have to get a better handle on that one for sure.

Heaving a sigh, Papyrus shook himself out with a clatter and paced over to the sling he'd left on the cave floor. Pulling it open with claws and teeth, he eyed the chew toy--a little rubber newspaper--and picked it up before walking over to the lakeside and laying down. Despite his initial reluctance to take it, it had occurred to him that if he really was going to work to accept his form as it was, he might as well indulge some of the instincts he had. It was surprisingly satisfying to squeeze the rubber between his teeth as he thought, and it helped with the general fidgetiness he'd been feeling of late.

No wonder the dogs liked this kind of thing. It was actually pretty calming.

Eventually, he lost interest though. He set the toy aside and wandered over to the other things they'd packed. Snacks... no, he wasn't hungry. He pushed a can of peanuts away, and it rolled with a clatter... He looked at it pointedly and pushed it again, harder. It rolled further and he hopped to give chase, batting and pawing at it, sending it spinning across the cave floor. He pounced on it--and it skidded from under his claws right into the lake. He went after it, but it was too late--it had already sunk out of sight. He lashed his tail in frustration, his toy gone--but a flash of white beneath the water's surface caught his eye.

He crept to the edge--and was soon entertaining himself by chasing eyeless cave fish around the shallows, summoning tiny bone mazes and watching as they wove through the obstacles to avoid him. But eventually they fled to the depths where he feared to tread, and he left the water to shake and dry off. Oh, that chewy thing looked fun again.

A sound caught his attention--one that wasn't made by him. It felt like a really long time since there'd been any sounds, and he rose into a low crouch as he listened to it draw near. A hard, clanking sound, something big--wait, he knew what it was! A friend! He'd play with them.

"Papyrus! I'm back!" Undyne called into the cavern, and was immediately tackled from behind. She rolled onto her back and kicked, sending her assailant flying with a yelp. She got to her feet, already beaming. "Hah! You thought you could pull one over on ME?! I'm the Captain of the Royal freakin' Guard, punk!"

Papyrus had risen as well, and fixed her with a daring look--before taking off across the room, only to circle back and bark at her when she didn't follow.

"What, you think this is a GAME?!" she bellowed, and took off after him. They wove around the room, throwing out bones and spears alike to try tripping each other up; Undyne was fast, but on four legs, Papyrus was faster and ran circles around her, sometimes stopping just out of reach as if to taunt her.

Wait. Why wasn't he just taunting her?

"Dude, Papyrus, timeout," she called, slowing to a jog. Papyrus continued to trot around her mockingly. She scowled, and cast a spear horizontally in his path--he leapt over it easily and didn't slow down at all, jumping over it again as he circled back around. "Oh come on!"

He trilled something that almost sounded like "nyeh heh heh", and Undyne squinted.

"Uh, Papyrus...? Why aren't you talking?"

Finally, he seemed to slow down, and confusion danced briefly on his face. But then he went back to trotting at full speed, that mischievous look back on his face.

Undyne frowned, and brandished another spear. With a wave, Papyrus' soul flashed green, and he was suddenly locked in place. He gave a playful growl as he spun to face her, tail lashing. Light gathered in his jaws--Undyne lunged forward, wrapping her hand around his muzzle. His eyes went wide in surprise, and white-hot sparks shot from between his teeth as he coughed on his unfired beam. Undyne let him go, and he spluttered for a bit more before shaking himself out and staring at the ground.

"Ahem. Oh dear."

"Papyrus?"

He looked up at her. "Yes."

Undyne made a face at him. "Did you forget how to talk or something?"

Papyrus winced. "Um. Maybe a little."

"How does that even happen? Are you okay?" Undyne asked, and Papyrus shook himself out again before sitting and staring at his feet.

"It's so easy sometimes," he uttered, and she lowered a brow.

"To forget how to talk?"

"To forget how to person."

Undyne grimaced. "Is that... part of your... um. Transformation?"

Papyrus shrugged. "A little, I guess. There are some things that just make more sense, like this. Like, how to smell things, how to chase... It's like parts of my brain wake up--or would, if I had a brain. But, it's like other parts want to sleep. Ones that... supposedly are less useful."

Undyne saw the subtle shiver that ran through him.

But Papyrus quickly puffed his chest out. "But it's fine! They only want to sleep, and I don't sleep! I slipped up a little bit today, but that's okay! I'm still me!"

"Yeah you are," Undyne affirmed, punching him lightly in the shoulder and knocking him off balance. "Still, should I, uh, be worried about it?"

"No! Because you'll be able to break me out of it! You're great at breaking things!"

"Heck yeah! Don't worry Papyrus, I've got your back," Undyne reassured him. "You ready to head home?"

"Yes! I think I'm in sore need of some bad television. Just the thing to take my mind off losing my mind!"

"Papyrus, oh my god."

It was much later, long after Undyne had gone to bed, that Papyrus let himself think about what had happened. It was unsettling how easily he'd given in to instinct today. And sure, he was trying to accept himself for what he was, and that meant accepting those instincts too. But until he was used to engaging all parts of his mind equally--as easily as he'd once exchanged one form for another--it was too easy to slip firmly into what he had wanted him to be. Was it really their training that made it so alluring, or was it something intrinsic about this form that made acting on instinct so easy...?

He really had to wonder how Sans was doing on that front.

The doctor had had him the longest, pushed him the hardest. He'd never been able to mold him into the perfectly obedient weapon he desired, but he'd worn him down until there was little left but his instincts, and that was almost as good in the doctor's eyes. Papyrus had managed to encourage him to reclaim the full range of his senses and intelligence, but it hadn't been easy, and Sans had relapsed many times before they'd finally sent the doctor to his fate.

But they weren't in the lab anymore; wherever Sans was, Papyrus had doubts it was nearly as harsh.

#undertalethingem writes #undertale #gaster blaster au #papyrus (undertale)#Undyne (undertale)#flowey (undertale)#coming up with a title for this chapter was hard =u=;;#bark at the moon fic

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cateringisalie · 3 years

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9 years later and we have at last got a new Eva film and the end of the Rebuild project.

Much was made at the start of Rebuild of the desire to introduce Eva to a new audience. 1.0 more or less leant into its original goal and restaged episodes 1 to 6 of the TV series with a bigger budget, CGI, some more blunt and early reveals and a few weird alterations for the existing fan base. The Angel numbering was off; everyone knows Lilith is stuck in the basement, Seele just default to their monoliths. Kaworu is actively introduced at the tail-end rather than alluded to in the opening titles. As an intro, its fine (though most would agree the equivalent stage of the TV series isn’t really a struggle to cope with either), though a few stylistic and environmental changes lead many to conclude this was a direct sequel to End of Evangelion. 2.0 seemed content to build off of the intro but steer away from the relevant section of episodes – roughly 8 to 17. Recognisable moments like the falling Angel, the corrupted Unit 03 and the ribbon angel and Unit 01’s impossible reactivation share the screen with altered relationship dynamics. Now we get Mari one of the few wholly new characters who gets to open the second film in a wildly dramatic fashion. The key of Nebuchadnezzar (which does at least re-enter proceedings in the final film, but I am even shakier on what it is or used for – even fandom seem to have struggle to explain this as anything other than a blunt drop-in replacement for the Adam embryo in the TV series). And come the end its time for Third Impact already, Shinji altering the world around him to rescue Rei from the depths of an Angel. Kaworu uses an unfamiliar spear to incapacitate Shinji and the preview hints at a story further from the rails than ever. 3.0 is as promised more or less completely divorced from anything Eva had done before. Just not the off-the rails version 2.0 advertised. Some will be quick to note that none of the Rebuild previews have entirely accurately advertised their subsequent instalment; 1.0’s features at least one key scene that never happened (Mistao slapping Ristuko in a seeming allusion to the Sea of Dirac Angel) while even the sequences of animation that did make it look nothing alike. Which is fair, but even then 2.0’s bears absolutely no resemblance to 3.0 and even 3.0’s very strange preview doesn’t really jibe with 3.0+1.0 ultimately. 3.0 is post-post-apocalypse and with a whole 14 years just evaporated between films. There’s a distinct last third of Nadia feel to it. About the only part similar to a former incarnation is Kaworu and Shinji’s relationship which while not even roughly mapping to episode 24 serves the same function; to make Shinji distraught before the climax of this story. But 3.0 is also the point where that initial premise of the series slams headlong into the drift from familiar territory. Where the film is a quantum leap away from the mystery terms and slow reveals. The oddities and confusions pile up given the glimpsed state of the world, the strange gridded moon, the sea of Eva corpses, the strange state of Lilith in the depths of Nerv. An awful lot happened while Shinji was (for reasons no one has explained or seems to care about except me) IN SPACE and the film only ever alludes to the sequence of events occurring between these two films in the broadest of strokes. Which if done a certain way can be compelling though I did not find it to be the case here in the slightest. It’s a huge struggle to build up even a vague idea of what went down and that’s with heavy deferral back to the TV series again. If you’re new, none of this means much of anything. Even mixed media doesn’t help. The reveal there was a limited run manga of events prior to 3.0 had a potential for answers, but upon reading a synopsis... Nope. Helps not even a tiny amount. Also this mixed media attitude is never to be encouraged. So, I didn’t like film 3 much at all. Film 4 does little to not be based on where it left off. Which is a small mercy that it doesn’t effectively toss everything out again and skip further ahead in time. And 3.0+1.0 does at least make use of some of what 2.0 revealed and setup in the spirit of trying to get this into something cohesive. It fails, but it tried. Maybe the points it touches on were the intended direction of the films. Maybe Anno changed his mind on this one. It’s not like Rebuild’s failure to cohere should be a surprise – the title of the film is simply confusing in sequence. Titled neither 4.0 nor 4.44, instead we have the pretty inexplicable 3.0+1.0 which is just annoying to type. Even thematically this doesn’t feel right given its more like 2.0 mushed into 3.0 but I suppose that’s technically film 5 so... Unless, 1.0 here is supposed to mean the original TV series or EoE, which... End of Evangelion figures unexpectedly largely in the film. Could be that its meant to infer some collection of the Eva cast (the original pilots + Mari? The Ikari family + Mari? The pilots from 1.0 (Shinji and Rei) plus the pilots from 3.0 (Asuka and Mari)?). The other part of course, is that the three prior films had titles in the form of [Thing](Not)]Thing]. 3.0+1.0 decides to dispense with this entirely and instead is titled “Thrice Upon a Time”. Nothing like confusing matters (and instead media library ordering) by not only giving the film a title that puts it before the 3rd film (since prior to this cinema releases are .0 and the home media (excepting the first release of 1.0) are triple digits of their instalment number) but also has another reference to three within it. It might be some kind of holy trinity allusion, some play on Third Impact, or an acknowledgement that this is theoretically the third version of events surrounding the end of the world (if you take TV series as 1, EoE as 2, and Rebuild as 3). Also potentially a literary reference about cyclical time and messages from the future which is all well and good and fits into a whole other essay about how Rebuild and FFVII Remake are operating on the same basis and making many of the same mistakes by both trying to be fan-service for the new fans and draw in new ones and do the big fan-moments similarly but diverge wildly off in others. Good start! The final film starts with bombast as per 2 and 3 (and thus focused on Mari) though the setup and point of the action is possibly more confused and less explicable (which is saying something given 3.0 opened with retrieving Unit 01 from space. No, I will continue to complain about not getting this. Yes it was very exciting but why was Unit 01 in space? In a strange crucifix coffin. Anyone at all?) – and only vaguely connected to anything resembling the plot. At least 2.0 and 3.0 had some immediate and long term stakes with a cover for Kaji stealing something and bringing Shinji into the plot. This film opens with a scrounge for spare parts in a red Paris that the tertiary cast make no longer red while Mari fights off a massed horde of Evas while battleships are puppeteered from orbit. It’s all terrible cool and everything, but given at no point do we even begin to understand what is going on or what the stakes even are. Which is a problem with the latter half of the sequence. 2.0 might have started with an Eva vs Angel fight but while there was ambiguity over the situation it at least seemed to lead into the eventual plot. Here we’re getting Eva spare parts for later and a whole dose of new terminology the film has no interest in explaining. Which is par for the course for prior Eva incarnations but again, I feel there was more explanation setting the weirdness up. Here we are reduced to keywords that sound important. The film proper opens with our familiar trio of Eva pilots winding up at a village with their old classmates (which of course, to follow the proliferations of 3 all the way down and also match to Tokyo-3, is in fact, Village 3. The far future sequel to Resident Evil 8 presumably). Who are necessarily now 14 years older than them. Asuka is naked (in a sequence to contrast to 1.0 and 2.0) or in her underwear for far too much of this sequence (and just as creepy as 2.0 got with this) as Shinji struggles in the aftermath of Kaworu’s death, Ayanami (critically not the Rei of 2.0) learns about life (and visits a library with – I’m not kidding – a poster for Sugar Sugar Rune on display. I like to think not many in the audience caught this slightly odd reference). 30 minutes of the film are taken up with Rei being happy and contented with her life while Shinji slowly recovers and re-enters polite society (sulks, throws up at the sight of the DSS collar, is insulted and force-fed). There’s a good case for this section just being an unnecessary time filler, though you don’t need to fill time in a film that is 2 ½ hours. But if it was cut down, perhaps it would have the same strange feeling as 1.0 had where the aftermath of Shinji’s second Angel fight lead was mostly skipped and left that part of 1.0 feeling strangely hasty and actively (and badly) abridged. Maybe that’s just my familiarity with the source material again. There’s still an edge of weirdness in the air on the film hits the 45 minute mark; even prior to this gigantic sections of the land are missing, and some things just float around now (apparently because). Past this mark is where weirdness creeps in; the barriers keeping the village from suffering the fate of Paris – the structures a curious match to the Cocytus facility at the start of 2.0. There are headless Eva copies who roam the landscape. An indicator on Ayanami’s suit runs down. Shinji is advised to talk to his father before he loses the opportunity forever. This one made me laugh, and even Asuka comments that given who Shinji’s father is and what he’s done don’t really make this plausible (or sensible). Ayanami concludes her pastoral life and this stage of the film by transforming back to her original white plug-suit; her AT Field then dissipates and she bursts in a familiar spill of LCL. For such a previously central character, Rei or Ayanami or Lilith will have exceptionally little bearing on the remainder of the film. The plot now kicks in properly as Gendo decides enough is enough and he’s going to be doing some world ending. Our Eva pilots are ready but not the same; we have Asuka, Mari and Shinji. And standing orders for Shinji to be shot if he tries to pilot anything (but given we’re at the end of the world and basically the original plan fails to stop Nerv bringing about the end of the world, that people still try to shoot him is... a little weird and an almost pointless resolution of factors the quaternary cast brought up in 3.0). The entire rest of the film is even more impenetrable and confusing than Kaworu’s sweeping explanations of what happened between films 2 and 3. If 3.0 fumbled the ball on being newcomer friendly 3.0+1.0 actively doesn’t care. Not that familiarity with series helps since so much new terminology is thrown at the audience. The entire cast – literally the entire cast – are not only caught up on but also understand the varying levels of psychological, biological and religious nonsense that Eva has formerly wielded as something almost coherent. You, as audience member, are not privy to a fraction of this understanding and thus left to flail for the remainder of the film making what you can of the maddening breadcrumb trail of exclamations and partial explanations. Shinji is no help here and infuriatingly asks barely a single question about what is going on (thankfully he does prompt Gendo to explain a few things – presumably where even the staff had gotten lost on what was supposedly going on). For existing fans, you might get a sense of it by application of known quantities from the previous incarnations (I pity newcomers struggling to make sense of this). What the Lance of Cassius is a thing introduced abruptly into the series – and contrasted with the Lance of Longinus you can muddle through to get some idea of what was going on. 3.0+1.0 however, decides that even that grip on its story is too much and adds a bunch more unnamed spears. Some of them formed from Lilith. This is a thing of some import apparently, though ultimately is effectively buzzword name-checking. We know who Lilith is in context from both 1.0 and the TV series but how that relates to spear formation is beyond me. And then there’s the part where one of the flying ships (there were four made according to Seele’s plan. Seele, the former sinister puppet-masters, who died in film 3, and if the flying ships were their idea or this stated at all, I had totally forgotten it in the last 9 years (checking wikia seems to indicate no one else knew this either so I feel vindicated). Seele feel an artefact of the old Eva Anno has no time for – EoE had what equated to three groups vying for control of the process of human instrumentality. Seele are adhering to a prophecy of sorts, Gendo is trying to subvert that process for his own ends, and Misato is trying to stop it. In terms of economical story-telling, the distinction between Seele and Gendo’s goals in causing Third Impact are so slim as to be basically zero (few critical differences though), I suspect Seele were deemed unnecessary and shuffled out of proceedings hastily despite their continued name-checking at this late stage) is turned into another spear because if all the spears are used up, the end of the world can’t be averted. You will have to forgive me for failing to notice how and where most of these spears (save three) wound up or what most of that means or why or how or anything. But we have a budget to squander and why not channel the Gurren Lagann energy for action one last time? And there is some action, this presumably part of what a good section of the audience have waited for with baited breath, that thing the TV series so rapidly lost interest in; that EoE staged for narrative cruelty. Smashy giant robot action time! So we get billions of Eva enemies for Asuka and Mari to cut through without problem. They explode and fall away despite exhaustively overwhelming numbers. There is a palpable lack of threat here. A few hitches but nothing the pilots can’t cope with. It’s just empty fan-service, a boast about how much can be rendered into a single frame. We get Asuka, unable to stab critically important Unit 13 (looking distinctly Unit 01-like just with four arms), and then hooking into an odd leftover thread from 2.0. Her accident in the activation test of Unit 03 has left her with a part of herself now more correctly classified as an Angel. And like 2.0 for surprise value, her Eva has special Angel blood injectors to again overcharge her Eva (which seems to be a thing in the latter three films – turn the Eva safety off and go beserk. As if Unit 01 didn’t do that all on its own in the first and second film). And this too fails. But this too is just another moment of important and pretention. Where the audience is meant to gasp at Eva/Angel hybridisation (not that the dividing line between Angles and Evas is ever completely clear (not least Unit 03)), at Asuka revealing herself to be part Angel (as if Kaworu and Rei weren’t established examples). So her Eva bloated and animalistic is... just another moment. We saw this in 2.0 with Mari releasing her limiters. We saw it in 3.0 in almost the same way. The distinction isn’t meaningfully different to the last few times the Evas were let off the leash and became more brutal. And just like the prior times this escalation of Eva body horror, ferocity, blood and over-indulged violence doesn’t actually help the situation. Asuka fails in her task as the Unit 13 counter-attacks. She’s saved by getting pulled out of reality moments before her end. Of course this being narrative, this being Eva; Gendo, the architect of this situation, is three steps ahead. Misato’s flying ship is badly and perhaps critically damaged so Gendo can retrieve the limbless body of Unit 01 formerly powering the flying ship. Shooting Gendo doesn’t work thanks to the key of Nebuchadnezzar (which did... Uh. Something? Kaji noted it as the lost number kept as a spare in 2.0 which implied Angel or Eva or... No I don’t know nor can I make sense of what it’s done to Gendo. Wikia informs me that while it’s never seen on-screen past the one time, its case is in some shots of 3.0. How amazing) and he leaves. And thus, of course, Shinji must get in the f-ing robot once more. But we’re back to the confident, more certain Shinji who 2.0 birthed as we enter the last (but still very long) final stage of the film – and restage End of Evangelion. Curious of course; EoE by turns can feel like a legitimate replacement for the final two TV series episodes or a bleakly, darkly, disturbing and flippant retort to the low-budget metaphysic version of the TV apocalypse. EoE to some has been not so much the intended ending (though buying a complete set of the old Eva in Japan will always net you the 26 original TV episodes, the four amended episodes and EoE), but more a poisoned chalice for the people who wanted a less introspective version of the end of the world and the process of human instrumentality. Anno was free to do what he wanted and veer off the tracks here – he can’t get away from the end of the world – this is integral to Eva’s base concept. 2.0’s glimpse of Second and the starts of Third Impact depict a process completely unfamiliar from the TV series’s version (reading Wikia explains some of 2.0’s imagery but is still bewildering with reference to 3.0+1.0’s reveals). In Rebuild, the end of the world is staged in the space below the strange aftermath of Second Impact, in an anti-universe where humans cannot venture. And yet, we are still clearly revisiting End of Evangelion. Not exactly the same, but a lot of imagery (the symbols in the sky, the gigantic form of Lilith at multiple points, the crucifix explosions across Earth’s surface) – to say nothing of some actual sections of animation – are taken straight from the 1997 film. Those moments and images were haunting and disturbing (the more overtly sexualised imagery has been completely removed). Clearly no matter what was said at the time or in the interim, EoE is in fact how the ending must play out; this is, or has become, what happens externally and internally when these characters attempt to force a next stage of evolution. The End of Evangelion will always be the end. ...just not quite the same. Not least it is missing most of the infamous moments (Shinji in Asuka’s hospital room is notably completely absent). There’s no moment where Shinji strangles Asuka, Komm Susser Tod is missing entire (in favour of something similar sounding but in Japanese), the live-action sequences of the empty cinema or the world without Evas aren’t utilised (though some live action footage is included), Rei betraying Gendo and beginning Third Impact outside his control etc. It's actively absurd to type this, but Lilith – Lilith! – has less character here. Which is so astonishingly absurd given the only depiction of Lilith we get is effectively Rei/Rei was Lilith the entire time, but those introspective sequences hinting at something more involved with Rei or the points Lilith does talk directly to Shinji are gone too. This shouldn’t be a surprise – we are after all missing a Rei character at the climax. Mostly. 3.0+1.0 almost expects you to remember the last time you saw Eva end the world and contrast it to this new version. The EoE imagery, the footage of Lilith descending from the crucifix, the looming figure of Lilith rising as humanity ends. Even something like the sequence of the backsides of cels running backward is reused – this footage also cribbed from EoE and played out on a wall between two characters. The animation breaks down into scratchy storyboards and later degenerates from finished footage down to outlines, animatics, and storyboard. The end of the world is this time around is more heavily meta. Both EoE and the TV episodes “staged” the process of Instrumentality (or parts of it) for Shinji. It occurs in filming spaces and on sets, there’s lighting equipment and dolls as stand-ins. The strange artificiality of pulling back the curtain on the TV or film production, or else the effect of setting the camera back further than you should for filming a theatrical experience. But even that’s a false layer given a true pull-back would be to people in front of computers or previously drawing key-frames. Here the staging is more blunt still. It begins with an Eva vs Eva fight between Gendo and Shinji in the anti-universe where their brains make sense of the impossible space with artificially staged areas of familiar locations. A fight in a city has a huge sheet as a backdrop and carboard buildings the Evas kick around. They fight in front of Nerv headquarters and in Misato’s kitchen. A blow knocks over a section of scenery and sprawls Shinji in the studio space surrounding the set. A crossroads of sort where Shinji will move on from Gendo to meet with Rei, Kaworu and Asuka. The major difference to EoE is that the end here is much more concerned with Gendo; we dive into his psyche and his past. His isolation and desire for it. This feels extremely confessional for Anno all things considered given Gendo was always previously kept at arm’s length. This feels revealing about the man behind it all, a reflection of the director. He has admitted during production that at his stage of life he is far closer to Gendo than Shinji – I think this is barely obfuscated here. The flashback is more about understanding Gendo and how Yui changed him than anything about Evas or the end of the world. Gendo’s motivation is revealed to be the same as always; this is how he gets to be with Yui again. Odd details catch as this past plays out. And is that Mari in his memories? Mari, who Fuyustuki calls Mary Iscariot upon meeting her and has prepared something for her. Which feels much more like religious buzz words; there’s an obvious implication coached in that selection of a name, but how it actually relates to the story or the circumstances is really unclear. Nor am I clear on what Fuyutsuki prepared. He explodes into LCL like last time too. The process is so close to EoE but the mood is lighter and the reasoning behind the cast a little different. Asuka is part of a clone series – same as Rei. Just without the physical signifiers that Kaworu and Rei exhibit and the prior short-hand for clones in this universe (as noted, their design is intended to invoke lab rats). Nice consistency there. The beach ending from EoE is re-done under a blue sky; Asuka is saved thanks to Shinji and Mari working in concert. Kaworu’s beach meeting with Shinji is restaged, the newer, confident Shinji discussing the circular system that delivers Kaworu into his place at the end of the world. So Eva has happened before, meta-wise or time-wise or dimensionally. Take it as you will, no interpretation is more valid than another. Only that Kaworu remembers them all. It’s happened before and it’s expected to happen again. But Shinji’s different now, so the end of the world is different. Now it’s time to move on; Kaworu is left with Kaji to tend the earth assured the cycle of Eva productions is at an end – both have been dead all this time. Anno’s attitude to his seeming forever association with this one franchise his and his desire to set it down and move on? EoE finished in space; 3.0+1.0 finishes beneath the Antarctic. The idea of Unit 01 living forever as a testament to humanity is no factor at all Shinji intending (and his parents possibly driving) the final riddance of the Evas from reality – none can be allowed to remain. But now, the film takes an odd turn, and as with EoE, there’s the coda. In EoE this was the beach scene. For Rebuild: The sun shines, the sky is blue. An adult Shinji sits in a train station and meets with Mari. She’s older too now; the pair share a kiss and run from the station hand in hand. So. Uh. Yeah. That happened. There’s Kaworu and Rei seemingly alive and well as adults. And Asuka of course. But Shinji winds up with Mari. Mari who knew everything the whole time and might somehow have been part of Gendo’s group at university and known Yui and no, we are not getting any insight into those peculiarities! (or more plausibly it could be Mari’s mother who looks near identical to Mari but... What are we meant to take from this, really?). Mari who met Shinji in a handful of brief moments and has never spent any actual time with him. Mari won the love-triangle! But this is not some simple alternate reality, a different better take world where the cast existed in something resembling our reality; Shinji still wears the exploding DSS collar given to him before rejoining the giant robot fray. Mari effortlessly removes it from his neck. The film ends with a live-action sequence – this is reportedly Anno’s hometown. The world without Evas; we passed the relevant date while 3.0+1.0 was stalled. Shinji made it to 2014, or more plausibly past it in a world without Second Impact. And he’s happy, well-adjusted, and... Not really recognisable as Shinji. Shinji now exists in the present, not the future as he had for so long in pop-culture. But he’s in a different 2021; a world without the pandemic. And that was Rebuild; a project intended as a new introduction to Evangelion that blatantly had its entire core conceit revised at least twice (the 4th film delayed because of Shin Godzilla and then a struggle to write at all) that increasingly and confusingly leant more and more on its famed initial incarnation even as it veered increasingly and erratically away from the familiar sequences. I liked 3.0+1.0 more than 3.0, but can’t help but still bemoan whatever 3.0 was going to be when 2.0 happened. The alternate other sequence. And despite it all, despite the allusions to a repetition of Eva and of this being the break in the chain, even those working on and involved with the film see even this as a definitive end. Even Anno’s not convinced that’s the last word. Eva will come back all over again; naturally – there’s money to be made here, and what’s yet another alternate take to add to the TV series, the manga, the games, the other manga, EoE, Rebuild and so on. Kaworu apparently is indeed doomed to revisit this forever alongside everyone else and also remember that for once he was gifted a true end. An impossible conclusion for modern pop-culture it feels.

#long post

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buriedinbleach · 4 years

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Along for the Ride

@blog-lady-vi asked: Kensei x Reader thigh riding scenario, pretty pleaaaaase 😱 Those thighs are made for sin omg 😍

Bless your sweet sinful mind for gifting me with this incredible request. Seriously, this ask was a treasure. Its definitely been a while since I’ve written a fic, so I hope my dust isn’t showing!

*winks* Let’s see just what kind of sin those thighs are made for, shall we?

“Babe, please?” Your soft voice was in Kensei’s ear as you leaned over his shoulder; sweet, warm, and wanting. That would also explain why your delicate fingers were currently working their way inside his open shihakusho – stroking up, and down his firm chest. Kensei’s eyes temporarily lost focus on the stack of papers strewn out over the desk in front of him. The gentle graze of your lips, just close enough to sweep his skin, mixed with the kiss of heat from your breath as you moved up his neck and over his ear had left him perfectly distracted.

Kensei inhaled deeply through his nose before opening his eyes to speak, summoning all his willpower. “I just have three more reports to review, then we can head home.” He heard your groan, knowing you made no attempt to stifle it and huffed out a laugh. “Don’t worry. I plan on making it up to you – more than once.”

The wicked smile that crossed your lips was hidden from view, but no sooner had Kensei turned his eyes back to his reports than your fingers resumed their path, moving further down his chest, your lips returned to ghosting over his ear. Neither of you spoke while you did your best to tempt him – and it seemed for once, Kensei was going to let you.

What a fun game this could be...

The tip of your tongue peeked out from between your soft lips. It carefully traced the shell of his ear with precision while one hand continued working its way lower, easing his haori open a little further with every inch. Kensei’s relaxed breathing didn’t betray the hunger growing steadily by the second, deep in the pit of his stomach. A warm breath sailed down his neck when your tongue gently flicked the piercing on his cartilage. That broke him.

Kensei let out a low groan before one firm hand clamped down on your wrist, pulling you around his chair with enough force for you to land right in his lap. Exactly where he wanted you.

He gripped your hips, greedily palming your curves and jerking you forward on his lap. His kiss was gentle and slow, with one hand tucked behind your neck to pull your lips to his. Kensei’s other hand however, continued to caress and tease, drawing breathless gasps from your parted lips.

Your fingers wound through his hair, tightly holding his mouth to your neck. “Kensei.”

“I told you, I am the super lieutenant! You do what I say!” Mashiro’s trilling whine broke through the quiet of the room. You both froze: your hips in the process of grinding against his, Kensei’s hand pulling at the collar of your kimono. Almost in tandem, both of your eyes shot towards the door.

“How many times do we have to go over this?” The exasperation in Shuhei’s voice was evident – and it was definitely getting closer.

You looked back at Kensei, quickly adjusting your kimono back into place. He held a finger to his lips and eased you off his lap. It was easy to hear Mashiro and Shuhei’s voices echoing down the long squad nine hallway, growing louder with each passing second. Kensei glanced around the room, formulating a quick plan, pulling you into a small utility closet at the front of the room alongside him. The door to the closet slipped closed without a sound just as the door to Kensei’s office swung open to reveal Mashiro and Shuhei – still arguing. Loudly.

“Ken-sei!” Mashiro stomped her foot dramatically, letting Shuhei brush past her only to find Kensei’s desk empty.

It was almost uncomfortably tight in that closet, especially being shoved in there with someone of Kensei’s size. His back was to the office where Shuhei and Mashiro continued to argue out of sight. You stood crammed in chest to chest, wedged together like interlocking puzzle pieces, one of his massive thighs between your legs. Kensei tilted his ear back towards the office to listen more closely.

“Doesn’t look like he’s here.” Shuhei turned towards the door, shoulders slumped, irritated and exhausted.

Mashiro crossed her arms, a look of indignation flashing across her face. “We aren’t leaving! He’ll be back soon. You would know that if you were the Super Lieutenant.” She flopped down on the couch, making herself very comfortable.

‘Poor Shuhei,’ You couldn’t help but smirk to yourself in the darkness.

The impact of the closet’s small dimensions began to resonate with you and Kensei almost immediately. With his shoulders spanning most of the door, Kensei’s heavy mass guaranteed no one was getting in any time soon. As he leaned back towards to door to listen, you inched forward, pressed tightly to his body.

Your soft, quiet, panting breaths echoed through Kensei’s mind, pounding like a drum, until they were indistinguishable from the beat of his own heart. The hand that was resting against your lower back crept lower still before squeezing and pulling your hips against his thigh.

“Ay!” You chided in a whisper, uselessly throwing Kensei a glare in the pitch black darkness of the closet. It took everything you had not to smack him across the chest in warning. What the hell had gotten into him?

You leaned in closer, bringing your lips to his ear and whispered, “They’ll hear us in here.”

Kensei grinned triumphantly when he noticed that you made no attempt to move your hips away afterwards. He could hear Shuhei grumbling something unintelligible while Mashiro drones on about a recent shopping trip with Rangiku. At least, that’s how it sounded to Kensei’s ears. Particularly, when he had you almost exactly where he wanted.

He had all the time in the world for this.

You had stalled in the darkness; frozen in place, anxious with anticipation until the tips of his rough fingers teasingly grazed your thigh, causing you to gasp in surprise before relaxing into his touch. His wide palm settled with a weighty pressure against your back, keeping your hips tightly fitted against his. Kensei’s fingers though, they trace an invisible pattern over your skin, inching under the hem of your kimono and up your thigh before retreating back down again, slowly progressing.

Kensei repeated the pattern over and over.

Teasing.

Each time, his fingers circled ever closer to grazing your slit over your underwear. Always so close. So close – but not quite. As a whimper caught in your throat, Kensei’s lips silenced your objections before you made them. His kiss was hot and possessive, but you wanted more, pulling him closer.

Your hips shift, just an inch, but it made all the difference. Kensei knew the second you felt it; your body went rigid, your lips parted, and the sweetest – hottest – pant escaped before Kensei’s teeth nipped your lower lip in teasing silence.

“That’s it, babe. Might as well make the most of our situation, right?”

That voice. It sent a sharp chill racing down your spine, but a hot ache was burning through your gut. It began in his palm, firm against your back, radiating through your body and sinking into your core, penetrating every fiber of every muscle until you had molded yourself perfectly against him. Angling just right thanks to a little encouragement from Kensei.

You gave a slow nod of agreement, letting your teeth sink into your lower lip to silence a surprised gasp that threatened to escape.

“Now, where were we?” His teeth grazed your ear, causing you to subconsciously tilt your neck, placing more of yourself on offering. Kensei grinned in the darkness like a naughty schoolboy, one very close to getting exactly what he –

Your hand clamped down around his wrist, catching him in the act, with one finger dipped into your underwear, testing for the wetness you both knew he would find. You wanted to let him continue, to see how far he was willing to go with his lieutenants on the other side of the door. Any excuse at all to sink down on that sinful – thick – digit, but the sound of Shuhei and Mashiro’s mumbled voices and a strange ‘thunk’ closeby reminded you of the presence of others, calling you back from the void.

“What if they see, or even hear something?” You pulled his hand out from your underwear with a light smack to the back of his wrist, trying to suitably chastise him. Even if the effect was somewhat lessened by your panting breaths. Your mind and your body were at odds, that is, until your more primal brain took over.

Kensei felt the muscles of your legs clench and roll around his thigh, slow and cyclical like a wave. The movements were understated, cautious, almost as if you were shy, or trying not to get caught, even by Kensei. With one hand at the small of your back and the other wrapped around your thigh, he jerks you up into his body with enough friction to leave you seeing stars.

“Trust me, it’ll just be us. They’ll never know.” He whispered, letting his lip lightly brush the shell of your ear. His own voice was growing about as strained as the tight fabric of his unforgiving hakama the harder he got. Kensei eagerly made a mental note for another time: getting you turned on, with your heavy breathing and the way your fingers dig desperately into the hard muscles of his shoulders as you angled your hips in discreet attempts to find friction – fuck, it all made him hard as a rock.

You turned through his words in your head over and over, all while your hips continued their tentative dance, tightly locked in place in Kensei’s firm grasp, yet slipping ever closer to the edge of an abyss. Still not quite wanting to give in so easily, but finding it harder to resist with each passing second.

Lost in thought, temporarily distracted, you nod ‘yes’ with contented submission. Kensei feels you relax into his touch, sinking down onto his thigh like you were being liquified. His grip on your body tightens, pulling you closer until his lips brushed yours, teasing your body and your senses with grazing kisses.

Your hand wraps around the back of his neck, giving him a taste of his own medicine as you slowly trace his full lips with the tip of your tongue until it’s Kensei who hungrily devours you in another kiss. But, longing to tease and tempt him, that deep kiss drove you further against his thigh, brushing your clit over the hard muscle lightly rocking beneath you.

Lightly rocking, and –

Oh gods! He was grinding now too – rutting your hips over his leg.

“Ke – “ He quickly silenced your hushed gasp, kissing you breathless while grinning wickedly against your lips. His hands may have been greedily palming your thighs – bracing, supporting, even gently guiding – but the wanton motions were all your own.

“Ssshhh, babe.” He whispered, trailing his lips along your jaw and down your neck, making himself at home in that one spot he just knew drove you crazy. “You can be as loud as you want when we get home.”

Kensei tried to act tough. He wanted you to think this had absolutely no effect on him. He tried to act like he could watch you get yourself off all night – grinding your clit against his thigh, taking the friction you needed rather than waiting for him. Except that by now, he was happily palming handfuls of your ass, angling your hips just right until you were pulling against the collar of his haori and burying your face in his chest, silently panting for breath.

Heat builds in your core, flourishing like vines curling along the jungle floor, pulling and coiling ever tighter. Kensei’s hard cock twitched against your thigh, aching for attention, but he knew he could wait all night if he had to. Instead, his ears pricked with the telltale signs of your approaching climax. Your breathing speeds up, hitching one or twice as the muscles throughout your body begin to tense at the waves of your approaching climax.

“Ah – “ You gasped, sinking your teeth into your lower lip to silence your cries. The only way this moment could have been any better is if you had your own hands full of Kensei’s sculpted ass, pulling him deep inside your core with every thrust. But, the main course could wait until you two were home – you didn’t think you could have kept quiet enough for that.

“Fuck, you are gorgeous babe.” Kensei murmured darkly, slowly enunciating every word. He presses his lips against your neck to lick and suck until you were sure he’d left a mark – you just didn’t care. He took control, guiding the roll of your hips over his thigh when he felt you begin to tremble and lose momentum, muscles clenching cyclically like the roll of a wave. Kensei groaned at your shudder, a long, deep sound that travelled from his lips at your neck, vibrating through your body like a plucked string. “So beautiful.”

The reverberations from his voice were like the first shockwaves unleashing your orgasm. Starting out slow and steady with a warmth that kissed your skin with flame and engulfed your muscles in liquid ecstasy. “Ssshh.” You pull his mouth to yours to silence him with a kiss.

Kensei gently nips and kisses your lips as you hiss with pleasure, grinding your hips against his thigh, riding out every last bit of friction you needed until he felt your body relax in his arms. He held you close, brushing the hair from your eyes before bringing his lips to your ear. “Gods that was hot. You ready to get out of here and finish this at home?”

The mere thought of Kensei pounding you into the mattress back home had your head swimming as the warmth in your core began creeping through your veins again. You didn’t even notice Kensei open the door and step out of the cramped closet until the bright light hit your eyes, blinding you with a brief flash. “Wait!”

“Why? I think we waited long enough to make sure they weren’t coming back.” Kensei let out a chuckle then turned to straighten his desk quickly so the two of you could leave. You scanned the room, seeking visual confirmation that Mashiro and Shuhei had indeed gone, trying to riddle out when they had left – hoping it was well before you were trying to call out Kensei’s name.

You groaned. “When did they leave?”

Kensei looked at you, puzzled, as you both walked to the door. “Did you think they were out here that whole time?” You would swear you could pinpoint the exact moment the realization struck him; the darkness in his eyes and the seductive smirk spreading slowly across his lips were the only clues you needed. “You did.”

Damn Kensei. How did that smug grin always turn you on?

“You knew they were gone the whole time?” You narrowed your eyes darkly, walking up to him until you were chest to chest. Kensei didn’t flinch. He looked back at you with a knowing, damnably hot grin causing the flames of desire to bite and singe your skin. “I’m gonna make you pay for that.”

In one blink, Kensei had lifted you, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing your back to the nearby wall. As your pulse raced and your breaths quickened, he kissed you, long and deep before whispering in your ear. “I’m counting on it, babe.”

#Kensei Muguruma #kensei x reader #buriedinbleach #warning: smut ahead #ao3 #reader insert #blog-lady-vi #Bleach #bleach imagines #welcome all ye kensei addicts #written in comic sans #i know #but the sorcery works

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ultraqueer · 3 years

Text

hey boys it is time for me 2 post self indulgent fic of my pc :3 enjoy

Aadya is new to the world of theater. They can admit that. New to their knowledge, at least - no memory before Uzer, and they’re about as certain as they can manage that they didn’t find their way into any traveling shows on the way to Masceral City. So, the Alabona Theater Company - it’s a new world to them. This season their first.

Despite that freshness, they are fairly certain that the first day of rehearsal isn’t meant to go the way it did.

A poor table read, understandable - it’s new material, and it seems to them that at least a couple of the cast members are a bit displeased with their roles. Add to that the pressure of the sheer amount of money the Alabona has spent on Rattlesword - a number Alleyn hasn’t shared with Aadya precisely, but one that almost certainly has far too many digits - and it makes sense that nerves would be high.

Even then - the stage falling out from under an actor’s feet? That’s a bit excessive.

The whole situation feels like it’s flying over Aadya’s head more and more with each passing day: they came here to find Keire, started work at the Alabona for the sake of paying for their room at the Lucky Foot, and now? Now, apparently, there’s a stage-breaking, sludge-producing phantom in the props dungeon and they’ve agreed to help collect strange objects from a stranger woman in order to get the thing gone.

It’s a far cry from the original plan.

So once the evening of the table read comes to a close, once they bid good night to their coworkers and slowly climb the stairs to the inn portion of the Lucky Foot, Aadya lets their mind spin. It’s as good a place as any for contemplation, the buzz of tavern patrons fading to a gentle hum as they climb higher; once they cross the threshold into their room it’s little more than a wash of white noise, loud enough to drown out their own quiet breaths but not so much as to distract. As such - perfect place for a bit of thought.

More or less autonomously, they shed a few outer layers of clothing and lock the door, propping their bag against it, just on the edge of falling over. Aadya’s not quite sure where that habit came from, but it’s there - and it’s helped more than once when another tenant, blackout drunk, tried to get into the wrong room. A crash isn’t the best way to wake, necessarily, but it gives fair enough warning.

Aadya’s eyes skim over the room - it’s simple, even spartan, but cheap and comfortable enough to work. A small bed, somewhat rumpled, with a lamp to one side and a nightstand to the other. Across from the bed a dresser, above that a mirror. Tucked into the corner is a fireplace, and a kitchen of sorts - really just a small burner and a sink, mostly useful for tea. And they were lucky enough to snag a room with an attached toilet - Aadya isn’t particularly self-conscious, but the potential questions that might arise in a communal washroom, given their appearance and general lack of explanations, are best avoided.

The room is just as it was this morning, dried leaves on the windowsill and all. Aadya’s not sure what they were expecting: yes, quite a few things happened today, and they may end up on the road again soon, but it wasn’t… revelatory. Nothing really changed. They haven’t really changed. They got a bit of information, a stroke of luck, but it’s not - they’re not -

They’re still stuck.

…

Keire Warnier.

That’s all they have, a name - and now a vague idea of who she might be. A politician, evidently, trying to encourage people to vote. A solid cause, Aadya knows, but what sort of voters is she trying to draw? What kind of politician is she?

What kind of person is she?

Now that they have a bit of a grasp on who she is, if only vaguely, Aadya at least has a chance of finding their way to her. They shied away from just asking every person they came across before - what if she wasn’t well known? What if she was wanted? - but knowing that Keire is a public figure makes things seem more… concrete, maybe. More doable, hopefully.

Aadya paces, back and forth across the narrow strip of flooring between bed and dresser, fiddling with their hands and thinking. They should help with this - traveling might help them find more information, and the odd day out of the inn means a bit more money left in their pocket - but it just…

They stop, stare into the mirror. Stare at themselves.

It’s strange, looking at something that is physically, extremely, obviously them, and still feeling that it’s foreign.

They don’t feel wrong, or uncomfortable in any way, just… unfamiliar. And the more they stare, the longer they look over their body, the more frustrated they get.

What the hell happened?

There are scars. Scars, everywhere, cropping up on more or less every part of their body. Beyond the cold, they’re part of the reason Aadya bundles up so carefully. Some can’t really be hidden - on their neck, the base of one horn, creeping down the backs of their hands - but they cover what they can. They’re not all serious, some not even noticeable from a distance - but they’re unexplainable, and that’s the thing.

If it was just their chest - just two thick lines, long since healed - that would be easy. Aadya doesn’t remember choosing to have that done, doesn’t remember what it looked like before, but they met the odd trans person on their way to Masceral. They know what top surgery is, even if they don’t recall having it. Those scars they can explain, and that brings some comfort.

And maybe they could show those off, display that one thing about themselves that they are certain of.

But.

The reality of Aadya’s situation is that it’s not just those scars, it’s not something they can explain away. And of course, of course, they’re not the most noticeable.

Their fingers trace downwards, to a spot on their ribcage. A few inches south of where they understand their heart to be. There, such a pale shade of green it’s nearly white, is a star-shaped scar slightly smaller than their fist. The skin is warped, and they follow the ridges and valleys outward; exploding from that center star is ring after ring of similarly destroyed tissue, spanning nearly the entirety of their torso. They can’t stand to look at it directly, hence the mirror - and it feels so, so wrong.

It’s abundantly clear to Aadya that something horrific happened to them.

It’s almost more horrifying that they don’t know what.

They take a deep breath, shutting their eyes and withdrawing their hand when a twinge of some old pain - imagined or real - shoots through their chest.

When Aadya opens their eyes once more, their gaze flits back to their reflection. It’s an odd sort of exposure therapy that they’ve been trying to do, forcing themselves to realize that yes, indeed, the tiefling with the green skin, and gold eyes, and yes, the scars, is them. They hate having to remind themselves of something that should be so simple, so basic, but - they’re hopeful that it might help. That maybe, once they become comfortable with this bit, the memories will start to return.

And maybe - maybe - if they make new memories… that might help too.

It’s a long shot, but. Maybe.

They’re fidgeting with their hands again. Always the same motion, always without thinking: a twisting around the fourth finger of their left hand, quick and repetitive. Simple, but grounding - even if it doesn’t feel exactly how it’s meant to.

There’s a noise from the tavern below that Aadya recognizes as last call - and a startled glance at the window confirms that, somehow, they’ve spent several hours in the quiet of their room once again. The moon is risen, the sun long gone, and they’ll be needed at the Alabona in not too many hours’ time. There’s not yet a need to rush - they don’t sleep well on the best of nights, and they don’t sleep much regardless - but they find that a few hours’ worth of a lie-down serves them far better than nothing at all.

So - it’s off with the last few pieces of work clothing, on with an oversized tunic, and into bed. A bit of moonlight streams through the window - Aadya doesn’t close the curtains, as they’ve found they prefer a bit of light when they rest. They’re not afraid of the dark - they can see perfectly fine - but something about the silvery light of a full moon feels… comforting. Like they’re not alone, maybe, and there’s someone on the other side of their bedroom door.

And Aadya lies there, breaths slowing, the silver ring they wear on a chain around their neck as cold as ever where it lies in the center of their chest.

And they wait, patiently, for morning.

#my life #nic writes #dungeons and dragons #d&d pc #sondheim saga #<- the name of our campaign lol #for reference if anyone is curious:#this is set after our first session! right at the end aadya found a flier paid for by the mysterious Keire’s political campaign posted #when Aadya woke up in a small mountain village (Uzer)#they had no memory & were directed to find someone by the name of Keire for help - likely in the capital #(that capital being Masceral City - home of the Alabona theatre company :3)#in terms of campaign plot. there’s a phantom in a modified tiny hunt in a brick in the Props Dungeon #it is fucking with the stage. we need to have a functioning stage. famous playwright BILIUS RATTLESWORD cannot work without a stage #(also the strange old woman in the tavern was the subject of HashtagMilfHunt2021 but that’s another thing)#some bonus fun facts about our pcs/their roles!!:#aadya (me) - tiefling mercy monk; works in costume shop #aela lor - elf wizard; stage manager #dizzy - halfling arcane trickster(?) rogue; stagehand #dante st. rose - half-orc barbarian (i THINK don’t quote me); stage combat coordinator. also raised by wolves #alleyn fletcher - half-elf warlock; artistic/managing director #alleyn’s ex wife also runs the rival theatre company which has been SO fucking fun #anyways. we didn’t play this week bc things happen but god I am so excited for our next session #also the a/d naming conventions were fully unintentional idk how tf we got here #aadya has been extant for Years & alleyn at least is a reference to shakespeare so like. there is Some Excuse #still fucking funny though

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neerasrealm · 4 years

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just imagine this: slender and jack are going out and bc all the responsible pastas are out they hire a babysitter (y/n) to look after slendra. she’s rlly shy at first but eventually she and y/n become best friends (and they steal slender’s gramophone to play some music while they make cookies and maybe wreck the kitchen in the process depending on y/n and slendra’s combined skills)

I ABSOLUTELY ADORE THIS REQUEST AND I HAD A BLAST WRITING IT sorry it took so long school murdered me plus I was jumping from draft to draft and just. A lot happened ok. I didn’t get all the prompts in because I couldn’t work em in but I feel like I did good. I loved writing y/n just subtly noticing that this house Is Not Human and it- it was a fun dynamic to do gshdjdshj Also new hc this is the origin story for y/n in the poly slenjack fics

You're starting to have regrets about taking this babysitting job. Maybe it was that you'd seen too many slasher movies, or maybe you were just paranoid. Or maybe it was the fact that you were dragging your bike through the woods in order to get to the address you'd been given. The sane part of your brain is saying that this is dangerous and you should turn back, but the broke millennial part of your brain is saying that the $500 paycheck is too good to pass up. I mean- $500? For babysitting for one night? That's insane! It’s gotta be a joke right? Maybe it is. Maybe you are going to be murdered horribly tonight in the middle of the woods.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by the sight of- a house. Presumably the house you’re supposed to be babysitting in. It’s gigantic- more of a mansion than a house. The outside looks refined and welcoming. There’s even flowers planted around the place. Cute pink pansies and blossoming bushes of roses. You look around hesitantly, then wheel your bike along up to the front door. You very carefully lean it against the wall and look around some more. How come you never heard about this place? I mean- a giant house in the woods? Why has that never come up? You’d think someone would talk about it, right?

As you’re looking around this odd place you realise something. It’s sprawling with cats. At first you only noticed a couple, and assumed they were pets, but now your counting has hit the double digits. Why do cats hang around here? Are they all pets? Is the owner of this mysterious house a cat person? Or do they just- kidnap cats? What if you’re babysitting a cat…

Okay no that’s dumb. You turn around again and knock on the front door. It’s silent for a moment, and out of awkwardness you look down at your feet. You’re standing on a fancy doormat that reads ‘welcome’ in elegant cursive. The door opens and your head shoots up to attention.

Standing in the doorway is a tall man. Far taller than you. His skin is deathly pale, almost white, and his hair is neat and blonde. He’s wearing a suit, and as he looks down at you you realise his eyes are the brightest blue you’ve ever seen.

‘’M-mister Schlankwald?’’ you ask, stepping back and away from this strange man. He nods and smiles.

‘’That’s me.’’ he holds out a hand to you. ‘’You must be y/n, yes? The babysitter?’’ he smiles gently, and you realise he actually- looks kind of nervous. That’s a tad reassuring. You take his hand and shake it. You nod.

‘’Yeah, that’s me.’’ you say. He steps aside and you cross the threshold. As you take your coat off you look around. Past the small entryway is a large living room. There're three whole couches, and a few more armchairs scattered around. There’s a large TV surrounded by cabinets full of DVDs and videogames- it looks like a very luxurious place. And also there’s more cats just- hanging around in various places, but you’re not really paying attention to them. Your attention is grabbed by the person standing in the living room. He’s- insanely tall, with long black hair, striped socks and sleeves, feathers on his shoulders for some reason and- bandages. Just wrapped around his torso. He’s also wearing a grey crop top, and what you assume to be white face paint. His nose is striped too, and cone shaped. Everything he’s wearing is either black or white. You stare at him in surprise and just- disbelief. He raises a hand in greeting.

‘’Ey.’’ his voice is deep and rough. ‘’Ye’re th’ si’er?’’

You blink for a moment, not sure what he- even just said. ‘’Y-yes?’’ you say, hoping that’s the right answer. Apparently it was, because he smiles at you.

‘’Ah!’’ he steps towards you and leans down, holding out his hand. ‘’Me name’s Jack. pleased ta mee’ ya!’’

You shake his hand and nod. ‘’I’m y/n.’’ you murmur. Jack stands back up and you look over your shoulder at Mr Schlankwald. He gestures to the other male.

‘’This is Jack, my husband,’’ he explains. ‘’Do excuse the makeup. He’s a performer, you see.’’

‘’Ah.’’ you relax a bit. A performer...that makes sense. I guess. You look around a bit. ‘’So uh- where’s the kid?’’ In all this strangeness you almost forgot why you hiked into the deep dark woods.

‘’Righ’ ‘ere.’’ You turn to look at Jack again and watch him step aside to reveal a small girl who’d apparently been hiding behind him before. Her eyes widen as she comes into view and she stares at you. Her skin is a dark, almost reddish-brown colour. Her face is peppered with freckles and her hair hangs around her shoulders. It’s bright blonde, like Mr Schlankwald’s, but a bit more yellow. She quickly skitters back to Jack’s leg and hides behind him again. You frown. Jack looks at you. ‘’She’s a bi’ shy.’’ he murmurs. He crouches down to the girl. ‘’Ey, luv, i’s okay. Th’ si’er isn’ gonna ‘urt ya.’’

‘’Wh-wha’ if I scare ‘em or say somefink?’’ she mumbles. She has the slightest hint of her father’s accent, but more- refined almost. And a lot easier to understand.

‘’Ye’re no’ gonna, ye’re a smart girlie, ain’t ya?’’

Mr Schlankwald taps your shoulder and you look over at him. ‘’We- haven’t gotten a sitter before, so she’s a little nervous about the whole thing.’’

You nod. ‘’That’s alright, I’ve had shy kids before.’’ you smile at him. He seemingly brightens up.

‘’Righ’,’’ Jack’s voice interrupts you two. You look at him as he stands up. The girl shyly steps out from behind him and Jack lightly pats her head, ruffling her hair. ‘’We’d be’er ge’ goin’, luv.’’

‘’Of course.’’ Mr Schlankwald says. He shakes your hand once more and then looks at the girl. He holds out his arms and she quickly runs over, hugging him tight. ‘’Be good now, won’t you my dear?’’

‘’I will.’’ she mumbles. Her parents step away, with Jack heading for the door. Mr Schlankwald looks at you again.

‘’Her bedtime is at nine thirty, snacks are in the kitchen,’’ he nods towards a door behind you. ‘’Feel free to help yourself.’’

‘’Got it!’’ you chirp back as they leave. Once the door has closed it’s just you and the girl. She turns slowly and looks at you. You smile at her and lean down to her. ‘’Hiya.’’ you greet. ‘’I’m y/n. What’s your name?’’

She gulps and steps towards you. The tiny child looks you dead in the eyes and holds out her hand to you. ‘’I’m Slendra. Slendra Jackson.’’ she says with all the authority of a business CEO. you almost, ALMOST, crack up laughing but force yourself to take her seriously. You shake her hand.

‘’Well nice to meet you.’’ she retracts her hand. ‘’How old are you, Slendra?’’

‘’Fo-’’ she stops. ‘’Eigh'. I’m eigh'.’’ she folds her hands behind her back, just like her father did. You smile at her. She takes after her father, you suppose. It’s cute.

‘’So what do you like? Got any hobbies?’’

‘’Uhh…’’ she toys with the sleeve of her striped shirt. ‘’I like...music...and bakin'...I like readin' too and uh-’’ she shrugs. ‘’That’s abou' it, I guess.’’

You nod. ‘’I see.’’ you smile at her. ‘’So what do you wanna do? We got…’’ you glance down at your watch. ‘’Three and a half hours to kill.’’ She shifts on her feet and shrugs again. You tilt your head at her. ‘’We could watch TV...maybe draw something? Are you hungry?’’

She seems to perk up a little bit. ‘’I have drawin’ stuff in my room,’’ she says. ‘’We could do tha'.’’ there’s a glint of excitement in her eyes. ‘’I-if you want to.’’

‘’Of course I do,’’ you stand up and smile at her. ‘’Lead the way.’’

Slendra smiles a little in excitement and turns, heading quickly up the stairs. You follow after her, looking around curiously. This place is massive. Upstairs is a hallway with doors running all along the right. Each one is decorated differently. One is striped, with ‘laughing jack’ written on it, another is pink with a castle-shaped sign on it that reads ‘Sally’ and under it ‘& Dina’ is written in what looks like sharpie. The one right across from the stairs that Slendra climbs up has a metal sign on it, decorated with a skull and crossbones, that reads ‘Kate’s room, keep out!’

You follow Slendra up the staircase and arrive on the third floor. Slendra leads you to her room. Her door is also decorated, with flowers and butterflies and bowties. Her walls are purple, and the room kind of reminds you of...and office. She has a large desk covered in boxes and papers. Shelves are piled high with toys and trinkets, and she has a massive bookcase stuffed to the brim with- well, books. Fairy lights hang over her bed, which is large and round and covered in pillows and plushies. Glow in the dark stickers decorate her ceiling and walls.

Slendra grabs a large plastic tub from under her desk and drops some paper sheets onto it. She picks up the tub and smiles at you. You frown. ‘’Isn’t that heavy?’’

‘’Huh?’’ she looks at the box. ‘’I guess- I’m kind’ve strong though.’’

You smile a bit. ‘’I bet you are.’’ you step towards the door and open it. ‘’C’mon. If you need help with that I’ll take it.’’

Slendra shakes her head and walks past you. ‘’I got it.’’ she says, holding her head up proudly to show off how big and independent she is. You smirk a bit and follow after her. You walk past the hallway of odd doors and through the living room into the kitchen. Slendra places her box on the dining table and smiles over her shoulder at you. You glance around the kitchen. it’s- well, a normal kitchen. The fridge is covered in children’s drawings and magnets, but oddly no photos. Thinking about it now, you haven’t seen a single photo up on the walls. Odd.

‘’So you like drawing, huh?’’ you say to Slendra. She pulls out a chair, which has a big ginger cat sleeping on it. She pets it and nods.

‘’My brother Helen is an ar'ist. He lets me join 'im sometimes, and he teaches me a lo'.’’ she smiles over at you.

‘’Your brother’s name is Helen?’’

‘’Yeah.’’ she tilts her head. ‘’It’s a unisex name innit?’’

You- don’t really have the heart to say no, so you just nod. ‘’How many siblings do you have?’’ you ask, watching the ginger cat roll over. Slendra scratches its stomach.

‘’Ten.’’ she replies without batting an eye. You freeze for a second. You blink. Huh- so- Mr Schlankwald, the strange gay man who lives in a mansion in the woods, apparently has eleven children. You slowly tilt your head.

‘’How many people live here…?’’

‘’Fourteen, though my uncle Ivan sometimes comes to visi', so maybe fifte- oh!’’ she’s interrupted by the ginger cat suddenly jumping down off the chair and wandering off somewhere. She climbs up onto the now empty chair and looks over the table at you. "Dad left snacks for us," she points over at the counter by the fridge. "Do you wanna grab some?"

"Oh uh- sure." You walk over to the counter Slendra pointed to. There's some plates and a bowl covered in tin foil, probably to keep the cats from eating whatever's been left for you. You grab one of the plates and peel away the tin foil. You're greeted by a plate that's sectioned into thirds. Each third contains...snacks? Of some sort. One section is miscellaneous coloured potato chips, one is full of little black squares that look like...seaweed? Maybe? And the third section looks like- thin slices of various vegetables. Dried out to a crisp. You slowly glance over at Slendra.

"What're uh- what're these?"

"Oh! Dad's healthy snacks. They're real good." She smiles. "Try one!"

You hesitate, then reach to grab one of the potato chips. They're all different colours. Orange, red, yellow- even a couple purple ones. You grab a yellow one and very carefully bite into it. Your eyes widen as you chew. It's...good. really good. A nice balance of cheese, onion- are those chives? Yeah! Chives. Fancy. You pick up a second, orange one and toss it into your mouth. It's a bit sweeter, but still just as good.

Pulling aside the foil on the bowl you're greeted by popcorn, nuts, and various shaped potato chips that also appear to be homemade. You grab one and toss it into your mouth, and get hit with soy sauce and spices. Surprising, but still really good. It reminds you of asian takeout. You take the foil off the last plate and- "Oh! Cookies!"

"Yep! Dad made 'em especially for you." Slendra says as she opens the box she brought down and pulls out a few things. "He always tries to make sure we have food for guests. Every time we ge’ a visitor he tries to feed 'em."

"Huh…" you grab the plates very carefully and carry them over to the table, setting them down between you and Slendra, who's already begun her drawing. "What is your dad like anyway? How'd he afford a giant place like this?" You ask as you wander back over to grab the bowl you left.

"Oh uh- well-" she suddenly seems nervous. "He said tha’…" she pauses for a moment, like she's thinking. "He invested in stocks b'fore the economy wen’ bad." She finishes, speaking like she's reciting a line. You smile a bit.

"I see." You put down the bowl of various snacks and grab another potato chip. Slendra reaches over and grabs one of the black squares of seaweed, biting into it and crunching on it happily. "Weird that I never heard about this place, huh? Giant mansion in the woods…’’ Slendra stares at you, eyes wide. ‘’...That’s full of cats for some reason…’’

She nods and smiles sheepishly. ‘’Heheh, yeah…’’ she puts down her pencil and grabs a thin, dried out tomato slice, crunching on it quietly. ‘’Dad feeds 'em. He loves cats.’’

‘’Huh.’’ you grab a cookie from the plate and bite into it. It’s soft and crumbles in your mouth. Like shortbread, but with deliciously sweet chocolate chips. Without thinking you reach for a second one before you’ve even finished your first. ‘’So what’re you drawing?’’ you tilt your head at her.

‘’Fairies.’’

‘’Oh yeah?’’ you lean over to get a look. You were expecting to see friendly, childish drawings of little people with wings, but instead...you’re greeted by creatures with odd proportions, eyes in odd places, sharp teeth and mean expressions. ‘’...oh.’’ you regain your composure quickly. Kids sometimes draw scary things, it’s normal- probably. ‘’You’re really good at drawing.’’

‘’Ehh…’’ she shrugs. ‘’I guess. I’m still learnin'. Helen says I’m gettin’ better though!’’

You smile a bit. ‘’Keep practicing. By the time you’re ten I bet you’ll be amazing.’’

Slendra laughs a bit. ‘’I only really draw when Helen asks me if I want to.’’ she murmurs. ‘’I mostly like to sing.’’

‘’Oh yeah?’’

"Uh-huh. Dad taugh’ me to play piano, and pops taugh’ me the accordion." She grabs a handful of popcorn, chips and nuts from the bowl and calmly grabs a single nut, putting it in her mouth and crunching on it softly. "I'm learnin' ukulele right now."

"Wow," you tilt your head at her. "Guess your parents can afford a lot of tutors for you, huh?"

"Nah, we're all homeschooled."

"Oh." You blink in surprise. "Does your dad do all of that?"

"Uh-huh. He's real smart." Slendra puts down her pencil and neatly puts her page aside. She delicately grabs a couple more snacks. She has awfully good table manners. A thing that comes from her father, you guess. ‘’He makes learnin’ fun too. My brothers say school is real borin’.’’

‘’Huh…’’

You spend a couple hours sitting there with her, watching her draw odd creatures and talk about her even more odd family. The cookies have been eaten, and most of the other snacks are gone completely. Including the seaweed squares, which weren't actually all that bad when you tried them. And now you're lounging back in your chair, petting a chubby chausie cat that's apparently named Brian.

"So...he covered up...the hole in the wall...by making more holes."

"Yep."

"...No offense but this Jeff guy sounds pretty dumb." You say. Slendra laughs a bit as she puts away her coloured pencils, dropping them back into the large box of supplies she brought down.

"Jeffery is a good boy, he means well." She murmurs. She grabs the last of the dried out tomato slices and crunches it down. "Wha’ now?"

You shrug. "I dunno. Whatever you want." you smile at her. She frowns in thought, then suddenly perks up.

"Oh! I could practice my music," she looks suddenly excited. "Dad has a lo’ of records in ‘is office. Could we listen to those? And I can play along with my ukulele."

You shrug and smile at her. ‘’Sure, I don’t see why not,’’ you tilt your head. ‘’Where’s his office?’’

‘’Downstairs.’’ Slendra hops off her chair and grabs the box. ‘’I’ll grab my things! You go wait.’’ she adds before quickly leaving the room. You laugh a bit and grab the last couple potato chips, then the half-empty bowl, just in case. After nudging Brian off your lap you walk down to the basement and look around. There’s a few rooms, but the thing that catches your attention the most though is the lounge area that’s full of comfy looking chairs and cabinets stuffed with videogames. And also the cats, there’s even more down here, but you’re kind of used to them by now.

You glance around at the doors down here. There’s three doors on the left, and none of them are really decorated. There’s a couple other doors, and one of them has a large padlock on it for some reason. The one next to it, surprisingly, is decorated. Fish and deep sea creatures are painted onto it. You’re pulled out of your thoughts by footsteps on the stairs. You look towards them and see Slendra running down them with a ukulele in hand. She grins at you as she walks up to you. You notice she has a small concertina accordion hanging off her waist from a shoulder strap. ‘’Dad has the door locked,’’ she says as she walks past you towards the last door on the left. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out...a cat claw…? You frown. ‘’I can ge’ it open though.’’

You watch her attempt to pick the lock with the claw. ‘’uh...I don’t think that’s gonna-’’

‘’Click!’’ the door opens as if to spite you. Slendra grins over at you.

‘’Told you!’’ she chirps. She walks into the office and you follow her in, bemused. Inside the office is...odd. Grey walls and carpet, lots of bookshelves, a cat tree in the corner, and comfy looking wicker chairs in front of the desk. On the walls are photos of Slendra and other kids who you assume to be her siblings. There’s an...odd painting hanging on the wall across from the door. It contains two faceless white beings, a similar being with black eyes and no mouth and a strange creature with similar black eyes and a wide smile. You frown at it. Abstract art, you suppose. The creatures remind you of Slendra’s drawings.

‘’Here we go!’’ Slendra catches your attention again. She’s knelt on the ground, looking through a drawer stuffed with records. You glance over at a table in the corner of the room. To your surprise, it isn’t a record player, it’s a gramophone. An old looking one at that. Must be an antique. It honestly wouldn’t surprise you if Mr Schlankwald was a collector or something like that. Slendra gets up and very carefully places a record on the player and drops the needle. It’s silent for a couple moments and then a delicate piano starts playing. Slendra strums her ukulele and begins to sing.

‘’I know...you belo-o-ong to so-omebody ne-ew…’’ her voice is almost...mesmerising. You relax despite yourself as she sings along. ‘’But tonight, you belo-ong to me.’’ Maybe you’re imagining it, but you swear you can hear multiple voices coming from her. Or maybe it’s just the vocals from the record. You’re not really paying attention. Instead you sit down in one of the wicker chairs and watch her. ‘’Although…’’ she smiles a bit. ‘’You’re a apa-a-art, of my he-e-a-art,’’ her eyes catch yours. They seem to glint a moment and something- odd, passes over you. You suddenly feel extremely relaxed, all tenseness leaving your body. You lean back in your chair. ‘’And tonight, you belo-ong, to me.’’

-------

You don’t remember much else from the evening after that. Just that Slendra continued singing along to the greatest hits from the fifties and sixties. Things start to become a bit less fuzzy around nine thirty. Her bedtime. You read her a bedtime story, told her goodnight with a wide smile, and took a seat on the couch downstairs. Which is where you are now, watching a movie in the dim lighting. You feel...good. Really happy for some unknown reason. Not that you’re complaining.

The front door opens and you glance over as Mr Schlankwald steps inside. He closes the umbrella he's holding while Jack shakes himself off, kind of like a dog. Mr Schlankwald looks over at you and smiles.

"Ah, hello." He steps towards you, with Jack following after. He strides past the blonde and collapses himself in one of the armchairs. Somehow his makeup is still flawless despite the rain outside. "How were things?" He asks, tilting his head. He seems nervous, slightly. Jack opens one eye and looks over at you.

"Good," you sit up. "No trouble at all. She behaved excellently, we just sorta...chilled." you smile a bit. "She's the most well behaved kid I've ever looked after honestly. She didn't even complain when it came to her bedtime."

"Oh!" Mr Schlankwald smiles a bit. "I'm glad to hear that- we were worried, eheh." He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. He frowns. "Hm...Jack have you got three hu-"

"Righ' 'ere luv." Jack reaches into his striped sleeve and pulls out a small wad of notes. Mr Schlankwald smiles and takes them, folding them up neatly before holding them out to you.

"Five hundred, as agreed." He says as you quickly count the money. You knew you'd be getting that amount but still, actually holding the money now you can hardly believe it. You stand up quickly.

"Thank you." You barely manage to get the words out. "I had a great time babysitting her- I uh- I've babysat some real demons before so uh- heheh-" you're just rambling now because of the sheer elation of actually being given five hundred fucking dollars. Mr Schlankwald smiles, as polite as ever.

"Well, if we ever need another sitter we'll call you." He says, walking over to the door. He grabs your coat from the coat rack and holds it out. Quickly, you walk over to him and take it. He opens the door while you put it on. "Do get home safe," he murmurs. "Does your bike have a light? Do you need an umbrella?" He frowns at you, apparently worried.

"No, no. I'll be fine." You give him an anxious smile while you pull your hood up and step outside. You grab your bike, flicking on the light on the front of it. Mr Schlankwald smiles at you, pleased to see that you won't be in the dark going home. You walk off towards the forest path you followed earlier and wave over at him.

"Get home safe!" He calls as he waves back.

"I will!" You turn away from him and smile wide.

That's the best babysitting gig you've ever had.

You really, really hope they call you back for another night...

#ask #request #frozensriracha #writing request #creepypasta #creepypasta oc #slendra jackson #slenderman #laughing jack #creepypasta fanfic #creepypasta fanfiction #writing #slenjack #y/n

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