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hamsterclaw · 1 year

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Blue side

Hoseok's always known you as Namjoon's little sister. One day, he realises you're more than a match for him.

Pairing: Hoseok x F! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Brother's best friend AU, smut, angst

Word count: 7.7k

Warnings: Sex, swearing, fast cars

Jung Hoseok revs his engine as he rolls into the garage, a burst of bravado after a fucking hairy night.

Park Jimin goes to greet him. His sling’s off but he holds his arm up, bent at the elbow, wrist encased in plaster.

Hoseok pushes his door open, climbs out from his low seat gracefully, like he’s done it thousands of times.

He has.

Jimin takes in Hoseok’s appearance, really not that different from when he started the night except that he looks a little more dishevelled, a lot more weary.

His eyes ask the questions he doesn’t want to bombard Hoseok with, and Hoseok, always kind, says, ‘everyone’s on the way.’

Jimin lets out the sigh he hadn’t known he was holding in.

There’s a honk, obnoxious and unnecessary, and Hoseok exchanges a wan smile with Jimin.

‘Fucking kids,’ Hoseok mutters.

Tae parks up tight next to Hoseok, tailed by Jungkook on his bike.

Jungkook drops his helmet on the workbench with a careless clatter, hand already up to fluff his matted hair.

There’s a gap of time then, meaningless banter that no one takes in because they’re really just waiting for the rest.

In the end, there’s one last car, the tail end of the convoy.

Yoongi’s driving in that breathtakingly confident way he does when he’s tired. He parks without revving or honking, just cutting the engine without a pause.

Then everyone’s getting out.

A beautifully groomed Seokjin, a Namjoon just in his shirtsleeves, and you, curled into Namjoon’s side under his arm.

Your eyes meet Hoseok’s for just a second, clocking him.

You’re always aware of him, like he’s always aware of you.

‘The other car’s in the parking garage,’ Namjoon says, low voice more of a rumble than words because he’s been out all night and he forgets to modulate his voice when he’s tired.

Hoseok lets himself glance over you like he would anyone else, scanning for injury.

Drinking you in with his gaze because it’s all he’s allowed to do.

Namjoon’s arm stays locked around your shoulders. He looks at the group assembled in the garage.

Jimin’s already hit the automated doors, locking up. All secure.

There’s not really a lot to say but good night.

***

Hoseok and Namjoon have been friends for so long he can’t remember a time Namjoon wasn’t in his life.

They used to drive Hobi’s beat up Hyundai round the hairpin bends of Samo Hills, over and over, setting different challenges each time.

Who could make the fastest time.

Who could make the fastest time and not turn the blocks of soft tofu in the cooler boxes into mush.

Who could make the fastest time driving and then picking up a girl in the bar.

So dumb, and still one of the best times in his life.

Hobi’d always been aware of you in the periphery, how could he not be?

He’s spent as many nights in Namjoon’s house as he has in his own, especially since his old man started drinking so much.

He feels weird admitting it, but he only started to really see you when you started bringing boys home.

Namjoon, protective older brother that he was, was quick to adopt the role of guard dog, letting his height, and in more recent years, the width of his chest do the intimidating for him.

You’d been amused by Namjoon’s protectiveness initially, laughing it off. Then one day, you’d come home upset because some idiot had tried to make you do something you didn’t want to do.

Hoseok had been in the kitchen fixing himself a sandwich. He’s never thought of himself as any less obtuse than the next guy but a blind man would have been able to see you were upset.

You’d muttered a ‘hello’, politeness ingrained in you.

‘Are you ok?’ Hoseok had asked, peanut butter forgotten.

‘Guys are assholes,’ you’d said, your lip wobbling just a little.

The flare of protective rage had surprised Hoseok.

‘What happened?’ he’d asked, voice sharp.

You’d looked at him, uneasy. ‘Nothing.’

You’d grabbed a drink from the fridge, twisting the cap until Hoseok had held his hand out for it.

You’d passed it over, he’d opened it and handed it back. There was a mark on your wrist.

You’d seen that he’d noticed it.

‘I did that,’ you say, quickly. ‘I was trying to get a bracelet off, quick.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I didn’t want to give him a blow job.’

Hoseok had stared at you, trying to process.

‘He was an asshole,’ you’d said.

Hoseok had said, slow, ‘some dude gave you a bracelet, and wanted you to blow him.’

You’d looked at the ground. ‘I thought he liked me. I’m an idiot.’

‘Did he call you that?’ Hoseok had asked.

‘No, I called him that,’ you’d said. You’d smiled, rueful. ‘After I threw the bracelet at him and kneed him in the balls.’

‘Sounds like you took care of him,’ Hoseok had agreed.

You’d laughed.

‘Want a sandwich?’ Hoseok had asked.

‘Yeah ok.’

By the time Namjoon had turned up, you were watching TV together because Hoseok had sensed you didn’t want to be alone.

You’d started to spend more time together after that, not a lot, just the odd occasion when Namjoon was caught up.

Sometimes you’d go to the store together, pick stuff up for dinner. One time you’d parked the cart in the pasta aisle and stared at the packages of pasta for so long Hoseok had felt like he needed to say something.

‘I like penne,’ he’d offered, gently.

You’d smiled at him as you picked up a packet and placed it carefully in the cart.

‘Joon likes penne.’

‘We like a lot of the same things,’ Hoseok had agreed.

‘Cars. Girls. Books.’ You’d checked things off on your hand, fingers curling.

Hoseok had reached out, curled your ring finger into your palm. ‘Penne.’

You’d laughed and he had too.

When you’d got back home, Namjoon and Yoongi were in the kitchen. One look at their expressions and Hoseok had known something was about to go down.

Namjoon had asked if you could make dinner whilst they talked.

You’d looked at him narrow-eyed, and had said, ‘sure Joonie. I’ll eat it too, and leave you the scraps.’

For a moment the siblings had looked at each other, not alike physically, but so similar in their personalities that a wry grin had already started to curve Hoseok’s lips, even before Yoongi had reached over, picked the groceries out of your arms, and said, ‘I like scraps.’

Dinner had been more than scraps, you were a pretty good cook.

On their way out, Namjoon had told you the usual.

Not to let anyone in unless it was him or one of his.

Not to wait up.

To call the police if they weren’t back by sun up, because the life insurance wouldn’t pay out unless there was proof of death.

He’d been saying the same thing to you for forever, as long as Hoseok could remember.

You’d pulled him into a hug. Then, for the first time, you’d grabbed Hoseok too.

‘See ya later,’ you’d whispered in his ear, on tiptoe so no one else could hear.

‘Yeah. See ya, scraps,’ was all Hoseok could manage.

He thought about that hug a lot, wished he’d been quick enough to hug you back instead of standing there like he didn’t want to.

And then he drove, like he always did.

***

As soon as there was enough money you went off to college, fielding the teasing about being a genius with your usual good-natured comebacks.

You told everyone it was your brother who was the genius, and Hoseok doesn’t think you were wrong, just that you underplayed your own cleverness.

Namjoon had been obsessive about making sure you had enough, it wasn’t enough for him that you were getting your education, he didn’t want you to feel conscious about your own background compared to your peers.

Hoseok knew you well enough to know you would never let that kind of thing get you down. Not coming from where you were from.

He’d been dropping something off, close to the general area where you lived, though he was hazy on the details. He’d seen a billboard with a girl who looked a little like you, and, impulsively, had pulled over and texted you.

Hoseok: Hey, scraps, I’m in town. Want to meet up?’

He’d told himself he’d give you ten minutes to answer and if you didn’t he’d call it.

He didn’t have to wait long. His phone lit up almost instantly.

Scraps: I’m just out of class. Starving. Let’s eat?

Hoseok pulled up to where you’d said to meet, and there you were, pretty and fresh with your backpack double-strapped to you.

You’d slid into the passenger seat, and Hoseok had glanced at your friends, all looking curiously at him.

You’d seen his look. ‘They’re not looking because they’re worried, Hobi. They’re looking because you’re cute.’

Hoseok had laughed. ‘If your brother ever visits you —‘

‘Oh yeah, him too. Yoongi. Seokjin. You.’

You’d rolled your eyes. ‘Spent my whole life protecting you all from my friends.’

Hoseok’s tickled that you think that.

‘What do you want to eat?’ you ask, putting your seatbelt on, turning to him.

Your smile makes Hoseok feel light, easy.

‘Take me somewhere you like,’ he suggests.

You end up in some tiny place, squashed up next to each other. It’s bustling, filled with people, but all Hoseok remembers after is how you were so close your arm pressed against his the whole time, and how nice it made him feel.

He drops you off at your place, and you ask him, a serious look in your eyes, if you want to come up.

‘I should get going,’ Hoseok tells you.

Something like disappointment flits across your face, quickly replaced with your pretty, nonchalant smile.

‘Tell Joonie I’m happy, ok?’ you tell him, unbuckling your seatbelt. Then, you roll your eyes at him, aware of the irony. ‘Drive safe.’

The laugh dies in Hoseok’s throat as you put your hand on his forearm, and say, quietly, ‘For me.’

Hoseok promises you that he will.

***

You’re back for Christmas break, Hoseok’s heard.

He’s waiting by the car for Namjoon a couple days before Christmas, freezing his ass off. The engine’s running but he wants to be quick on his feet in case Namjoon or Yoongi needs help.

His breath’s coming out white, the air is that unrelenting cold it gets this time of year.

Namjoon and Yoongi emerge round the corner, and Hoseok’s adrenaline ebbs.

He gets in, flicks the lights on.

The cold draft that waves in as the boys climb in reminds him how quickly he acclimatises to the warmth.

Back at Namjoon’s place the lights are still on.

You open the back door as they’re walking up.

‘Merry Christmas yo ho ho,’ you say, a curl to your lip that doesn’t quite make it to sarcastic because of the brightness in your eyes.

‘Get inside, you’ll freeze,’ Namjoon says.

‘I’m dressed,’ you retort.

Even Yoongi’s not proof against your cheerfulness, managing a crooked smile as he steps past you.

‘Hobi,’ you say, warmly.

Hoseok slings an arm around you in an awkward side hug.

You don’t seem to mind.

‘When did you get back?’ Hoseok asks, taking the mug you pass him.

‘Yesterday,’ you reply. ‘I’m back until next week.’

Namjoon takes a gulp of his drink and coughs violently. ‘Shit, what’s in this?’

‘It’s eggnog,’ you say, serene.

Yoongi swirls his mug, suspiciously. ‘How much rum did you put in it?’

‘I don’t think you’ll be able to drive after this,’ you say cheerfully.

‘It’s almost undrinkable,’ Namjoon remarks, grimacing.

‘It’s ok,’ Hoseok says.

Yoongi snorts. ‘Cheers.’

You turn back to the stove. ‘I’ll make ramen.’

Hoseok, for just a moment, lets himself admire the graceful line of your neck.

When he looks away, Namjoon catches his eye.

They stare at each other.

Yoongi gets up, chair scraping obnoxiously on the wood floor.

‘Anyone want a refill?’ he asks.

‘Yeah,’ Hoseok says.

Namjoon breaks his gaze and says, ‘fuck it. Pour me another, Yoongs.’

***

It’s Christmas eve, and Hoseok thinks, hand on his heart, that if he never had eggnog again in his whole life it would be too soon.

Namjoon’s sprawled on the couch, flipping through movie options.

You come in, a tray in your arms full of Christmas themed junk food, and stare, surprised at the empty pitcher.

Hoseok hadn’t wanted you to feel bad about your terrible eggnog, so he’d challenged Namjoon to a drinking game whilst you’d been fixing snacks.

Like driving Samo Hills, it’d all ended up being a speed challenge in the end.

Hoseok doesn’t have to look in the mirror to know he’s as flushed as the stockings you’d pinned to the mantel. Three, one for each of them.

Namjoon’s phone rings, and he swipes blearily at it.

You pluck it out of his hand and answer.

Your tone makes Namjoon sit up.

‘It’s Jimin. Jungkook’s hurt. They need you.’

And then Namjoon’s stumbling upright, trying to stay up, moving like he’s on a rollercoaster.

Hoseok isn’t doing much better.

All he knows is, they need to find a way to get to Jungkook.

You’re moving faster than either of them, already in your puffy jacket, keys in your hand.

‘I’ll drive,’ you say.

‘No, you’re not going,’ Namjoon says immediately, reaching for the keys.

‘You’re not going anywhere without me,’ you say.

Namjoon looks at Hoseok helplessly.

‘Get the keys Hobi.’

You shove your hand in your pocket and look at Hoseok.

Hoseok’s never going to be the one to force you to do something you don’t want to do.

You’re shoving Namjoon’s jacket onto him, zipping him up.

‘Come on, Jungkook needs us.’

Namjoon’s been chugging water, the car windows wide open to the chill, trying desperately to sober up on the way.

Hoseok’s doing ok, he thinks. He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again you’re pulling into a spot on the street, Namjoon’s low voice murmuring instructions.

Hoseok’s still more drunk than sober, but the adrenaline thrumming through his veins is helping tip the balance.

Namjoon’s got his usual set of instructions for you, but you cut him off.

‘Go help Jungkook, Joon. I’ll wait here.’

You say it firmly, calmly.

Hoseok watches the way Namjoon’s hand lands on yours, a rare display of affection.

Then he’s out, running alongside Namjoon.

***

By the time Hoseok gets back to the car, the darkest part of the night is over.

He knocks on the window gently, trying not to startle you.

The doors unlock, and he slides in next to you.

‘Where’s Joon?’ you ask immediately, scanning for your brother.

‘He’s gone to the hospital with Jungkook and Jimin,’ Hoseok tells you.

‘Is he ok?’ you ask, voice losing its sharp edge of panic now that you know your brother’s ok.

‘Yeah, Jungkook’s fine, his shoulder’s dislocated and he’s a bit banged up but he’ll be ok.’

Hoseok nudges you gently. ‘Move over, let me drive.’

You’re quiet as Hoseok pulls the car out of the space, puts on the radio to the station he and Namjoon always listen to.

A piano solo plays, a piece he likes. Hoseok finds himself sneaking glances at you in the flashes of streetlight as he drives.

You’re tired, and so pretty his heart longs for you.

‘Are you ok Hobi?’ you ask.

‘I’m fine, Scraps.’

His voice comes out raspy, low.

He takes the Samo Hills route because it’s familiar, even though it’s a little longer.

You put your hand on his, for an instant, and squeeze.

Hoseok says, when you’re pulling your hand away, ‘you can hold my hand. I like it.’

Your fingers flutter in the air between you, and then your hand closes over his.

This is a dangerous game he’s playing, Hoseok tells himself.

But he can’t help himself, not when he’s driving his favourite route, when the dawn’s just breaking, shades of midnight to shades of blue.

It’s his favourite time of day, the promise of another new beginning, another chance to remedy the fuckups of yesterday.

He tells himself that this can be his Christmas present.

You’re still holding his hand, and you hold it all the way as Hoseok drives you home.

***

Hoseok walks into your living room on New Year’s Eve to find Yoongi buried in his phone and raised voices from the kitchen.

‘Scraps looks less scrappy, and Namjoon’s being overbearing about it,’ is Yoongi’s succinct summary.

Hoseok raises an eyebrow and heads for the kitchen.

He immediately curses Yoongi in his head.

Less scrappy seems a gross understatement.

He’s torn between wanting to look his fill and wanting to grab the chunky sweater Namjoon’s holding out to you and wrap you in it.

‘You tell her,’ Namjoon says to Hoseok, exasperated. He turns back to you. ‘You’re gonna have dumb douchebags trying it on with you all night.’

‘Yeah, and you’ll have girls all over you. How is that different?’ you ask, patiently.

‘I can look after myself,’ Namjoon snaps.

‘I’m not even going to dignify that with a response,’ you shoot back.

‘You’re both pretty,’ Hoseok says, trying for levity.

Two sets of eyes glare at him.

Then you sigh.

‘Joonie, I can handle myself.’

Namjoon sighs, too. ‘I know you can.’

You reach out and unbutton one of his buttons, taking it down to the middle of his chest.

‘Now we’re even, ok?’

Namjoon rolls his eyes but doesn’t do his button back up.

‘Let’s go.’

The party’s a good one, at some guy’s mansion. The music’s banging, the place already full of people.

You disappear with a couple girlfriends, leading them away from Namjoon and Yoongi, throwing Hoseok a sideways glance that makes him remember how you said you were trying to protect them all.

He smiles at the memory.

Yoongi looks, nonplussed, at a girl who walks right up to him and asks his name.

He keeps her waiting just long enough that the confidence in her eyes starts to falter, then he lets her tug him away from Namjoon and Hoseok.

‘Fucking Min Yoongi,’ Namjoon says, but there’s affection in his voice.

‘The only man I’ve ever seen who can make women go crazy for him just by existing,’ Hoseok agrees.

He grabs a drink, watching in amusement as Namjoon executes a well-timed dimple flash at a very beautiful woman wearing a white crop top.

He follows it up with a casual flex of his arms, because he’s always been an overachiever.

Soon enough Namjoon’s got his arm around her, but he’s still looking around for you.

‘Hobi, have you seen Scraps recently?’

‘Don’t worry,’ Hoseok jokes, ‘I can babysit your baby sister for you.’

It’s a dumb joke, a throwback to when Namjoon’s overprotectiveness was a running joke amongst the group.

Hoseok only realises how it would sound to you when he sees the stricken look on your face.

You’re too slow, and too upset, to hide it.

Hoseok’s heart stops seeing you frozen in your tracks, barely two feet away.

You react first, tearing your eyes away from his, veering away from him even as he says your name and reaches for you.

Hoseok looks to Namjoon. He shrugs. ‘Let her cool off. We can talk to her tomorrow, ok?’

Hoseok can’t let you walk away, not like this. He starts after you.

By the time he finds you, you’re under some guy’s arm, smiling up at him.

Hoseok says, ‘hey, can we talk?’

The guy’s arm tightens around you like he owns you, setting Hoseok’s teeth on edge.

You smile, but there’s a look in your eyes Hoseok’s never seen before.

‘Don’t worry, Hobi. I’m fine. Enjoy your night.’

Then you’ve turned away, and there’s only so much of the guy’s hands on you that Hoseok can watch before he’s turning away too.

***

Hoseok’s got the kitchen smelling like coffee and fresh bread by the time you make an appearance the next morning.

You give him a smile of genuine pleasure as you accept your mug of coffee.

Hoseok doesn’t want to sour the mood but he needs to set the record straight.

‘About last night,’ he says.

Your smile doesn’t dim. ‘It’s fine Hobi,’ you insist.

‘No,’ Hoseok says, ‘What I said— it was just a stupid joke. No one thinks of you as an annoying baby sister. I don’t think of you that way.’

You search his gaze.

‘It’s ok,’ you say.

Hoseok knows that it’s not ok, he can hear it in the brittleness of your voice, he can see it in the way your eyes are shiny with tears.

You turn away. ‘I should pack. Thanks for the coffee.’

Hoseok says, ‘let me drop you off at the train station.’

***

You’re quiet as Hoseok drives, your seatbelt tight over your puffy jacket.

‘I’ll be in your neck of the woods next month,’ Hoseok tells you.

‘Yeah?’ you ask. You smile. ‘Let me know if you want to meet up ok?’

There’s a pause, then you say, carefully, ‘don’t feel obliged though.’

Hoseok wants to go back in time and punch himself in the face for what he said.

‘I want to,’ he says.

You’re looking out the window, at the icy road, the January slush.

Hoseok parks up, and you turn to him, lips parting to thank him because you’ve always been sweet like that.

He leans over, across the centre console and kisses you.

You let out a soft breath that makes him feel a little crazy for you.

Your lips are sweet and warm. You taste like coffee and cinnamon.

Hoseok pulls away to check your expression.

‘Is this ok?’ he asks.

You nod so quickly he’s endeared. ‘Yes Hobi.’

Your hand’s curled around his neck like you don’t want to let him go.

‘I’m gonna talk to Namjoon,’ Hoseok tells you. ‘If you’re ok with that.’

‘What are you gonna say?’ you ask.

‘I’m gonna say that I like you,’ Hoseok says. He puts his hand on yours. ‘That I’m gonna ask you out.’

The smile you turn on him is so pretty he kisses you again.

***

Hoseok parks up outside your apartment.

You’re at the door to greet him like you often do when he and Namjoon get back after a job.

The smile on your face falters even though he tries his best to smile back at you.

‘Hey, let’s get inside before you freeze, ok?’

He’s never been inside your apartment before, and he wants to look around but as he unzips his jacket you step forward and snuggle yourself into his chest for a hug.

Hoseok has a lot to say to you tonight but for now he lets himself lean into you just a little.

You smell so good.

You’re looking up at him now.

‘You spoke to my brother,’ you say, flat. It’s not a question.

‘I did,’ Hoseok says, figuring he might as well just come out and say it.

‘And.’

‘Namjoon’s worried about us dating,’ Hoseok tells you.

You’re both still standing in your hallway, next to the door.

You reach out and take his hand.

‘Let’s talk about it,’ you say. ‘Stay for a bit.’

There’s a nervous energy to your posture as you wash up after dinner. Hoseok dries the dishes after you wash them, stacks them up.

You turn off the tap and turn to him.

‘Want tea?’ you offer.

‘Let’s sit,’ Hoseok says.

You take the opposite end of the couch, pull a cushion into your lap.

‘Hey,’ you say, hesitant. ‘You don’t have to feel —‘

You pause like you’re searching for the word, but Hoseok thinks you’re just worried to say it.

He reaches for your hand.

‘You’re not going to hurt me if it was all a mistake,’ you say, and your candour takes Hoseok’s breath away.

You smile like you mean it. ‘We can forget it ever happened. You felt bad and we kissed. It’s no big deal.’

Hoseok can’t believe what a mess he’s made of this.

‘You’re right,’ he says. ‘I’m not going to hurt you, because I like you. I like you a hell of a lot.’

He reaches out to cup your face.

‘I didn’t kiss you because I felt bad,’ he tells you, quietly. ‘I kissed you because I’ve been wanting to for years.’

‘I want to kiss you right now,’ he admits. ‘I promised your brother —‘

You cut him off by leaning close.

God he can smell your shampoo, familiar and sweet.

‘Forget my brother, Hobi. Do you want to kiss me now?’

Hoseok already knows he’s not going to say no to anything you ask for.

***

He’s lost track of time a little, lying in your bed like this, nothing but snow outside your window.

You’re in his arms, and he likes how you feel, all soft and warm.

He can’t believe he gets to hold you like this, that you’re burrowing your face into his neck.

Your lips press against his skin, and then there’s a thrilling moment when he isn’t quite sure it’s your tongue flicking against his neck.

Then your parted lips press against his skin and you suck.

Hoseok groans, hand coming up to tangle in your hair.

His cock presses against the seam of the nice jeans he put on because he wanted to look good for you.

He’s hard as you are soft.

From here he can see straight down your top, the curved mounds of your very pretty tits.

He can see the outlines of your nipples, pressing against the silky fabric.

‘Can I touch you?’ he wants to know.

You lift your lips off his skin, and the look you give him is so heated he can’t stop himself.

He kisses you again, hungrily, revelling in the feel of your soft breaths against his cheek.

You whimper as he hooks a thumb under the strap of your top, tugging it off your shoulder.

You do the same to the other strap, and Hoseok could cry at the sight of you.

He kisses over the tops of your breasts, moving slow, savouring the feel of you.

He flicks his tongue over a nipple, and a moan falls from your lips. Hoseok puts his lips to your nipple and sucks. Your hand curls around the back of his neck.

‘Don’t stop, Hobi,’ you plead. Hoseok doesn’t answer, can’t answer with your breast in his mouth, so he slides his hand around to your back, pulling you closer.

You’re moving against him with that careless grace he’s always liked. He’s no slouch at controlling his movements but he loves the way you press against him. He likes the way your hips rub against his, the friction against his aching cock just enough.

You’re spreading your legs under him, your fingertips hooking into the waistband of his jeans.

‘Can I touch you?’ you ask, so sweet and polite Hoseok wants to worship you and defile you, not necessarily in that order.

‘Touch me, baby,’ he says, voice low, raspy.

You undo his jeans carefully, drawing him out as he pushes his jeans down.

Your hand wraps around his cock, gentle, careful. You slip your thumb over the head, twisting slightly, making his hips rock into your hand.

‘You feel nice,’ Hoseok says, encouraging. He can’t look down, can’t watch you stroking him, because it’s too much. He might cum watching you, and he’ll be damned if he blows his load before he gets inside you.

‘Can I touch you?’ he asks, politely if not as sweetly as you asked.

‘Yes,’ you say, lips parted slightly as your hand tightens around his cock.

‘Here, baby?’ Hoseok asks. He pulls your loose sweats down, admires the smooth warm skin of your thighs. He splays his hand over your skin, slips a thumb under the centre panel of your panties, right over your core.

He groans at how wet you are.

‘For me?’ he asks, teasing.

Your eyes meet his, serious and dark as his fingers start to move inside you.

‘For you,’ you say, lip caught under your front teeth, plump, pink.

Hoseok curls a hand around himself, over your fingers, trying not to groan at the pleasure of it.

‘This is for you,’ he tells you.

‘I want it, Hobi,’ you say, voice breathless, high as he rubs his thumb over your clit.

‘You can have me,’ he promises.

He means it in so many ways he can’t say. He means you already have him, you’ll always have him, but he can’t tell you all that right now in this drugged haze of pleasure he finds himself in.

Hobi tries to show you instead.

He enters you slow, confidence building as he watches you writhe on his cock.

Your cheeks are warm, eyes bright, and you’re so beautiful he feels blinded.

So he closes his eyes.

Presses his lips to your skin.

Rocks against you, cock so hard he’s worried he’ll hurt you. Would be worried if it weren’t for the pleasured sounds falling from your lips.

You sound so pretty panting into his ear, gasping his name.

Hoseok can feel the way you push up to meet him, thrust for thrust, ankles locked in the small of his back.

It’s so you that it pulls him out of his head for a moment. You’ve always given as good as you got, always supported Namjoon, pushing against him trying to keep you out of trouble.

Your hand on his cheek makes his eyes fly to yours.

‘Hey,’ you say, a question in your eyes even as you hold him close to you.

‘I can’t,’ Hoseok says.

‘It’s ok,’ you say, simple, easy.

Like you’re the one comforting him.

Hoseok pulls out, laying on top of you, hard and aching.

He’s breathing quick, harsh.

You kiss him on the cheek with such tenderness he wants to cry.

‘It’s ok, Hobi.’ The sadness in your voice makes his heart crack, just a little.

Then you’re sitting up, getting dressed. It’s dark now, he can just about make out the silhouette of you against the window.

You’re beautiful even when he can barely see you. He knows you so well his mind can fill in the blanks.

Hoseok feels like the worst kind of asshole. He shouldn’t have come here. Shouldn’t have touched you, let alone fucked you. And now you’re sitting by the window. It’s too dark to see your face.

You say, ‘hey, Hobi. It’s ok. We both love Joon.’

Hoseok gets up, kneels at your feet, your legs curled up in the armchair.

‘I’m sorry.’

There’s the faintest sigh, a thickness to your voice that hurts his heart.

‘Me too, Hobi.’

***

Hoseok, Namjoon and Yoongi arrive back at Namjoon’s to a darkened house.

Namjoon, always on high alert, is already on his phone calling you before Yoongi’s even flicked on the lights.

Hoseok’s up the stairs before he realises he’s moving. Your door’s slightly ajar, one look and he can see you’re not there.

Namjoon’s on the phone, his voice low, terse. ‘I’ll come and get you.’

He turns to them. ‘She’s down the block. I’ll walk her back home.’

‘What happened?’ Hoseok asks immediately, voice too brisk, snapping in his panic.

‘She’s fine,’ Namjoon answers. He’s already half out the door.

It’s only fifteen minutes before you and Namjoon are stomping on the mat before entering the kitchen, but Hoseok realises how tense he’s been when he sees your face.

You look a little tired and cold, and Hoseok notices you’ve got Namjoon’s jacket on, fluffy house slippers on your feet.

‘Someone knocked when we were out,’ Namjoon says. He looks tense, still.

‘It was probably nothing. I shouldn’t have run,’ you say. You’re slipping Namjoon’s jacket off, Hoseok can see you’ve only got a thin t-shirt on underneath.

You turn to Namjoon. ‘I’m going to bed. I really don’t think it was anything to worry about, Joon.’

Namjoon looks unconvinced, but he says nothing.

You nod to Yoongi and flick your gaze to Hoseok. He hasn’t seen you since he left your apartment that last time.

You look at him for a moment, almost like you’re expecting to say something.

Hoseok can think of a million things he wants to say to you, but he’s too slow.

You’re stepping past him, careful not to touch him like he was never inside you.

***

Hoseok’s trying to reach the cereal box on the top shelf, damn Namjoon and his long reach, when you enter the kitchen quietly one morning.

You’re in the clothes you went out in the night before, and he startles you so badly that your heels drop to the tiled floor with a clatter.

You look at them, and him, and decide to play it out with breathtaking audacity.

‘Good morning Hoseok,’ you say, like you have every reason to be in a very tight, very short black dress at 8am on a Sunday.

‘Hi,’ Hoseok replies. ‘Want breakfast?’

You look at his arm, still outstretched, and reach under the table to pull out a step.

You hop up on it and get the cereal box down for him.

‘Joonie does it on purpose so I don’t finish the good cereal,’ you say, rolling your eyes.

Hoseok laughs, and you do too.

Your laugh is pretty, and Hoseok realises with a pang that it’s been a while since you last smiled at him like this.

‘Late night? Who’s the lucky guy?’ Hoseok asks, trying to sound casual.

The smile drops from your face as soon as the question leaves his mouth.

‘Ah, no one,’ you say. You’re stepping away carefully, sliding along the counter, picking up your shoes. You laugh, but it sounds forced. ‘Nothing happened.’

Hoseok says, ‘Scraps?’

‘Scraps is exactly what I am,’ you say. You sound like you’re joking, but there’s no humour in your expression.

Hoseok’s reaching for you, but you’re turning to head up the stairs.

***

Namjoon says, ‘we need another driver, Jimin’s still out with his wrist.’

‘What about Minjun?’ suggests Hoseok.

‘He’s not free tonight,’ Namjoon replies.

‘Scraps?’ asks Yoongi.

‘I know you didn’t just suggest my sister for our most dangerous job in months,’ Namjoon says, eyes narrowed at Yoongi.

‘She’s like a sister to me too,’ Yoongi says, evenly. ‘Getaway is low risk.’

‘Not no risk,’ counters Namjoon.

‘Scraps is pretty good at looking after herself,’ Yoongi points out.

‘We’re not getting her involved in this,’ says Namjoon, sharply.

‘Involved in what?’ you ask.

Hoseok looks up at you, and like always, is struck by how lovely you look.

‘We need another driver for tonight’s job,’ Yoongi says to you.

‘And you’re not it,’ Namjoon says.

‘I can help, Joon.’

‘She can ride behind me,’ Hoseok says. ‘We’ll convoy her.’

Namjoon gets up. ‘We could ask Haru.’

You stop him from pacing, gently, a hand on his arm.

‘I can do it Joon.’

Namjoon looks at all your faces, the indecision on his face writ clear for all to see.

Gentle, as always, you tug at his arm. ‘Let’s take a walk, Joonie.’

‘It’s cold outside,’ Namjoon grumbles, but he’s already following you out the door.

It’s nearly an hour before you come back, flushed from the cold, shivering.

‘Hoseok, you’re in front like always, Yoongi you pull up the rear. Scraps will ride in between and she’s not getting out.’

Yoongi snorts. ‘It took you an hour freezing your balls off to work that out?‘

You lift the bag you’ve got dangling from your hand.

‘We got take-out too.’

The smile on your face is infectious.

***

Hoseok starts his engine, hands moving to the steering wheel and the stick shift automatically. He glances in the mirror. There’s just enough light to see your face.

You stick your tongue out at him, and Namjoon, beside you, says something that makes you laugh.

Yoongi’s lights flick on behind you, reflecting against the stark white walls of the parking garage. Taehyung and Jungkook are riding with him.

Jimin hits the gate switch, the shutters concertina up, and Hoseok does his customary rev as he rolls out.

He drives slow initially, letting you get used to the pattern of his driving. He drives through an intersection, through the part of town where tight streets give way to wider lanes and longer stretches of dark.

He rolls into a slip lane, joining the highway. The hand on the speedometer swings round steadily as he picks up the pace.

You’ve found a rhythm now, keeping just the right amount of distance between you. Hoseok knows Yoongi, behind you, will take care of the rest.

He can’t see Namjoon but he imagines he’s sitting back in his seat.

Hoseok puts pressure on the accelerator.

He drives, like he always does.

***

So far everything’s going to plan. Namjoon, Tae and Jungkook are out on the job, Hoseok’s circling the block, keeping an eye out.

There’s movement out of the corner of his eye, and Hoseok slows to get a better look.

The car pulls out in front of him quickly, too quickly.

Hoseok sees the gun, but he’s already reacted to it.

In his lifetime of driving up front, his reflexes have never let him down.

His car turns into the collision, headlights from the upcoming vehicle shining right in his window, blinding him.

He’s cut it fine, but he’s done just enough.

The other car hits him side on, crashing into the tail end of his car as he spins.

The impact is always jarring, no matter how much he tries to brace.

His airbag doesn’t deploy, thank god for small favours.

Hoseok comes to a complete stop with his arms braced over his head.

He turns his head, looking for you.

Your car’s stopped, lights on.

He can’t see you. Fuck, where are you?

The passenger door’s wrenched open, and you’re climbing over, undoing his belt, calling his name.

‘Get back in the car,’ Hoseok tells you, urgently. ‘There’s a gun.’

‘Not without you,’ you say. ‘Come on, Hobi, get your ass in gear.’

Hoseok climbs out after you, staggers to your passenger seat.

He risks a glance at the other car. The driver’s slumped over the wheel.

Yoongi rolls up alongside you. ‘Get the fuck out,’ he commands. ‘Scraps, take Hobi and go. I’ll take care of the rest.’

You’re still looking at him, so Yoongi promises you, ‘I’m not coming back without Joon. Go, Scraps.’

You reach over and buckle Hoseok in. ‘Are you hurt?’ you ask. Your hand cups his cheek.

‘I’m good, Scraps. Let’s go.’

***

Hoseok’s never been driven by you before.

If he had to compare driving styles, he’d say you’re most similar to Yoongi.

There’s a quiet confidence about the way you drive, it’s unflashy but he likes it.

You’re driving down Samo Hills by the time Hoseok’s phone lights up.

‘Joon’s with Yoongi. They’re all fine,’ Hoseok tells you.

For the first time tonight, your hands tremble on the wheel.

‘Pull over,’ Hoseok says.

He puts his hand on your shoulder, feels the way you’re shaking.

‘Pull over, baby,’ he says.

You pull into a layby, cut the engine.

The lights fade out, and it’s so dark he can’t see you at all.

All he can hear is the hitches in your breathing as you cry, and Hoseok’s so sick of not giving in to you.

He pulls you into his arms.

He comforts you the way he wanted to that night he came to your apartment.

‘You’re ok, baby,’ he tells you, smoothing your hair, stroking your back, holding you tight.

Your tears wet his face, and Hoseok swipes his thumbs over your soft cheeks.

‘Don’t cry, Scraps, please,’ he pleads.

‘I thought you were hurt,’ you sob, words staccato, drawing gasps of breath in between.

Hoseok’s pretty sure he’s bruised if not broken a couple ribs, but there’s no way he’s telling you that.

‘I’m fine,’ he tells you, tilting your chin. Your eyes search his face, lips parted slightly.

‘I’m gonna kiss you, is that ok?’ he asks.

You nod.

Hoseok nudges in close, breathes in your scent, and kisses you with all the longing he’s felt for you.

Since you first started hanging out with him after school.

Since he saw you with that absurdly cute backpack strapped to you.

Since that New Year’s eve where he had to watch another man touch you when it should have been him with his arm around you.

Hoseok’s not going to let himself make the same mistakes again.

You’re whimpering in his ear, soft sounds making his cock surge in his pants, making him chub up for you.

Hoseok leans the seat back as far as it’ll go, watches as you look him over.

‘Come sit on me,’ he says, his voice that raspy low tone he gets when he’s turned on.

You climb over him gracefully, all legs and big eyes.

Hoseok pulls you down to him. Your hips move against his, and he groans.

‘I want you, Hobi,’ you say, quietly, eyes shining.

‘You have no idea how much I want you,’ Hoseok replies.

There’s a devilish spark in your eye.

‘How much do you want me?’ you ask.

Hoseok blinks at you.

Christ. Are you pouting at him?

You’re undoing your jeans, the sliver of pink panties enough for his cock to press uncomfortably at the seam of his pants.

‘You left me all wet for you before,’ you say, when Hoseok doesn’t reply.

Hoseok can’t stop his groan as you push your jeans down and travel your fingers under the band of your panties.

‘You’re gonna make me cum just watching you,’ he tells you.

‘Are you hard for me?’ you ask, feigning innocence.

‘I’m so fucking hard,’ Hoseok tells you, honestly.

‘Show me.’

Hoseok undoes the fly of his pants, pushes them down. He watches as your eyes drop to the outline of his cock.

‘We haven’t got a lot of room,’ you say.

You tug your panties aside and roll your hips over his bulge.

Hoseok puts his hands on your hips.

‘You gonna let me in?’ he asks.

He draws himself out of his briefs, hard, leaking, already sensitive.

You brace a hand against the window and scoot forward.

Hoseok grabs your hips and pulls you down onto his cock.

‘Hobi,’ you cry, as he fills you.

‘Yeah?’ he asks. ‘You like me like that?’

You moan instead of answering, and Hoseok jerks his hips up against you.

‘Answer me,’ he says.

‘I like you inside me,’ you say, moaning as he bucks up again.

‘I like being inside you,’ Hoseok tells you. He squeezes your hip. ‘Fuck! You feel so good.’

He lifts up your top, pushes your lacy bralette up so he can touch your skin.

Fuck your tits look beautiful.

You look beautiful.

You’re biting your lip as you ride him, all slick and sweaty and breathless, and Hoseok could watch you forever.

He pushes up against the footwell, bucking up into you, hips slamming up into yours.

He can tell you’re close by the way you’re clenching around him, by the way your voice has gone high as you pant his name.

He pulls you down against him, mouth open against your skin, whispering praise to you as you take him.

You tell him you’re cumming, and Hoseok can’t hold back. He flexes up into you, grunting as he releases, hot streaks of cum that roll down his cock as you move your hips. You moan and bury your face in his neck.

Hoseok curls his arms around you, taking the weight of you, and closes his eyes.

Why has he spent so much time fighting this? You’re everything he’s ever wanted.

***

Hoseok stirs when you start moving. You put a hand on his chest, and he brings his own hand up to cover it.

You look at him, uncertainly.

‘Stay,’ he says.

He’s hardening again, the head of his cock pushing against your folds, so close because he hadn’t moved after he’d softened out of you the first time.

He shifts, moving so he’s on top of you, between your legs.

You’re looking up at him, eyes so wide he can’t help himself.

He kisses you again.

He pulls back just long enough to ask if he can enter you again.

This time, it’s slow.

Hoseok kisses you as he thrusts, your eyelids, your cheeks, the hollow between your collarbones.

‘I’ve missed you,’ he tells you.

His reward is a smile so bright it could light up the world.

The pleasure’s building, slow, and he thinks he could keep going like this, make you cum on his cock.

So he does. He rocks his hips against yours, whispering praise in your ear as he fucks into you.

You’re getting tighter now around him, arching against him.

He knows you’re close. ‘Hey,’ he says, raspy, low.

Good girl that you are, you moan, ‘yes, Hobi?’

‘Cum for me,’ he urges, reaching down, squeezing your ass.

He moves faster, which you seem to like.

He feels like he’s hurtling to the edge of a precipice, pleasure surging.

For a moment, he’s suspended.

Then he falls, and he takes you with him.

***

By the time Hoseok rolls back into the parking garage, the dawn’s starting to break.

He parks up in his usual space.

You’re climbing out the other side of the car, greeting Namjoon in a tight hug, grabbing Yoongi’s arm when it looks like he’s about to pretend he doesn’t want to hug.

Hoseok grabs Namjoon after you’re done with him, because he’s his closest friend, and last night was a hell of a lot.

Namjoon’s hold is tight, strong, sore on his broken ribs but Hoseok wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything.

He exchanges a look with Namjoon as he pulls away.

He has a feeling Namjoon already knows what he’s going to say before he turns to you, holding out his arm.

‘Come on Scraps, let’s go to bed.’

You curl into his side.

©hamsterclaw 2022

#jhope smut #jhope x reader #bts smut #hoseok fanfic

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juhyolo · 4 months

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🩵 SAMO matching icons blue 🩵

#kpop #jyp twice #kpop gg #twice #twice icons #gg icons #girls icons #twice momo #twice sana #matching icons #matching pfps #kpop icons

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twtsana · 1 year

Photo

just like ― 幸福

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twtmomo · 1 year

Photo

just like - 愛 ♥ ︎

#momo icons #twice icons #gg icons #icons #2023 #long hair #black hair #mv #moonlight sunrise #moonlight sunrise mv #behind the scenes #samo icons #samo matching icons #samo #samo matching #twice matching icons #twice matching #matching #matching icons

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jihyocentric · 10 months

Note

Samo giving small gp!jeongyeon a blowjob. Edging her and teasing her for her size till jeongyeon is begging them to let her cum and they let her cum all over their faces

she feels ashamed at the beginning, when sana implies that her shaft is small enough to fit completely in her closed fist. jeongyeon whimpers as she looks down and only the tip is peaking through sana’s hand, precum already leaking, making it all messier.

“poor thing,” sana chuckles, tilting her head just slightly to say something on momo’s ear. “bet she couldn’t fit inside us.” it’s loud enough for jeongyeon to hear, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes when momo laughs.

jeongyeon can’t open her mouth to say a thing, her knees quivering at the constant pumping of sana’s hand, and when momo takes lead, pressing her lips over her tip, all she can do is let out a pitiful whine.

momo laughs mockingly, looking up only to get a glimpse of jeongyeon’s flushed face, cooing when jeongyeon can’t manage to hold eye contact with her.

“oh she loves this,” momo hums teasingly, the smile at the corner of her lips matching sana’s. “she’s throbbing.”

jeongyeon whimpers at a squeeze of momo’s fist around her shaft, keeping her hands behind her, clawing at the sheets, resisting the urge to take a hold of momo’s hair and pull her right where she needed it. she would never do such thing, not when she wasn’t allowed, but the mere thought makes her shamefully close to blowing her load.

sana bites her lip, thighs wet.

playing with jeongyeon had always made her excited as it was incredible easy to rile her up. to make jeongyeon pliant like that, all sana had to do was asking her if she’s going to be a good pet for them, already knowing that she’d get nothing for an answer, except a frantic nod that made jeongyeon look like a needy puppy.

“you want her mouth?” sana asks, manicured nails pressed against jeongyeon’s thigh, and when jeongyeon moves her head as if she’d going to nod again, sana sinks her nails on her skin. “use your words, pet.”

“p-please!” jeongyeon mutters, cheeks heating up, a single tear streaming down her face. “momo, please! n-need it bad!”

“that’s not how you should call me,” momo huffs, shaking her head disapprovingly. jeongyeon breathes out when momo’s hand is no longer holding her shaft, desperately opening her eyes. “what do you want, pet?”

jeongyeon swallows thickly, knowing exactly what momo wanted. “unnies… momo unnie, p-please suck me off!”

“now that’s a good pet,” momo laughs softly, pressing tiny kisses around jeongyeon’s tip. “so hard…”

momo takes her in her mouth with ease as jeongyeon wasn’t big enough to make her struggle. jeongyeon was thick, which made her jaw hurt at times, but to them she was just perfect in size, able to fit in far enough, easy to manage.

“you know we love that you’re not big, jeongie,” sana mumbles sweetly, sitting next to jeongyeon, hands wandering under her shirt, fingers finding jeongyeon’s hardened nipples to play with. “fits just right in our mouths, baby. she’s not even gagging,” sana praises, jeongyeon whining when sana tugs at her nipple.

jeongyeon’s hips falter when momo takes a hold of her balls, squeezing them as she rolled her tongue along jeongyeon’s shaft. she wasn’t trying to make jeongyeon come any time soon, keeping her pace purposefully slow, almost pitying jeongyeon as she holds herself back from fucking her mouth.

“unnies!” jeongyeon cries out, shaft already hurting from the edging.

sana and momo using their hands to play with her had already been hard enough. all she wanted was to unload in momo’s mouth, desperately so, trying hard to be a good pet and behave, keeping her hands off them.

“enough, enough,” sana says, getting back on the ground, sitting on her knees. “my turn.”

momo groans as she pulls away, not really wanting to let go but she knew she had to share. jeongyeon can barely process that they had changed places and sana’s mouth is already on her, working on her shaft faster than momo, taking her cock to the root with ease.

“she won’t hold if you keep it like this,” momo watches, already missing jeongyeon’s cock filling her mouth.

sana pretends not to listen. that is just what she wants — for jeongyeon to break, doing her very best to get her squirming and crying, letting out a small laugh when jeongyeon’s knees tremble.

“s-sana,” jeongyeon keens, breathing out anxiously, the edge built up in her stomach and all she needed was their permission to let it go. “c-can’t… i’m g-gonna…”

momo shakes her head, almost cruelly. “you can’t.”

“b-but…” jeongyeon gasps when sana promptly sucks her harder, the warmth of sana’s mouth becoming too much for her to handle, unable to resist her impulses.

she fucks sana’s mouth in a rowdy pace, listening clearly to momo’s disappointed sigh, but she couldn’t stop now. sana silently allows her to keep going, mouth open for jeongyeon to bury herself in, stuffing her with her shaft sloppily.

jeongyeon pulses in her mouth, sinking herself as deep as she could reach, feeling a brief moment of relief when she starts to unload.

it’s all too good until sana pulls away. momo holds her wrists in place, effectively ruining her orgasm, jeongyeon sobbing as hot ropes of cum spilled over her thighs and sana’s face, with no stimulation to help her through it.

“shh, it’s okay,” sana pulls away, rubbing jeongyeon’s thigh where it wasn't coated with cum, trying to give her some comfort. “it’s okay, baby.”

“h-hurts.” jeongyeon whimpers, cheeks drenched with warm tears.

“bet it does,” momo hums, getting up to sit next to jeongyeon and pull her closer to her chest. “we’ll take care of it, pet,” momo promises, pressing a kiss against her wet cheek. “and if you’re good, i’ll ride you at the end.”

jeongyeon can’t help the twitch on her shaft at momo’s promise. she nods, entirely too sensitive already, trying not to squirm while sana cleaned her up with her tongue and got her ready for another one.

#anon #jeongyeon #sana #momo #jeongmo #jeongsa #samo #g!p #fill

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radioactivepeasant · 11 months

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Surprise: Free Day Thursday Part Three!

Part One, Part Two

Yes, it's all out of order. But honestly that's kind of by design. See, I've got this idea of the story opening with Samos delivering a prologue, as he usually does. It's very much a statement by an unreliable narrator. And then you'd see what was happening in Spargus and think "wait, this doesn't match up". And then it would go back and forth between game stuff and how Jak got to the Wasteland.

So first Samos would provide a recap of Jak II. Then he'd say something like,

"But, sensing the weakness of our defenses, a ruthless warlord appeared from the Wastes. The dreaded Dune-Wolf, as efficient as he is deadly. He made only one demand: "Give up the Dark Warrior, or we will tear your city apart, beginning with this man we caught scouting around our camp."

But the man was the leader of the city militia, the right hand man of the governor herself. What choice did that leave us? With an innocent man's life in the balance -- to say nothing of the city -- Jak had no alternative but to accept the Dune-Wolf's terms. On the day of the exchange, the governor slipped a dagger into Jak's boot, where the Wastelanders would not find it, so that at least he would not be helpless. It has been many months now since that fateful day, but I have faith that Jak will gather his strength and escape that barren desert, to return to us once more."

And then it would cut to Spargus:

Daxter clung to the exterior of the tower, finding handholds no human would ever have been capable of. Swiftly and quietly, he scaled the rain-slick wall to slide through a window too narrow for most. Once inside, he shook water from his fur and beckoned to the figure crouched by the wall.

"Coast is clear, Jak." Daxter gestured with a thumb over his shoulder. "We'll have to climb down clockwise to avoid the guards, but then it's a straight shot to the elevator."

"Nice work." Jak held out a fist to bump against Daxter's.

He pulled his goggles down over his face and gripped the edges of the sill.

"This is it, Dax. We're getting out of here."

With a crackle, dark eco washed over his body, radiating from the lichtenberg patterns across his chest and arms. Jak's dark form didn't care about whether a space was "too small". He could fit anywhere as long as he could get his head through. With a scrape and a few very unsettling pops, he squeezed out of the window and dug his claws into the wall. Daxter slid out after him and dropped to his shoulder. Then the escape was underway.

Humans were not supposed to be able to cling to vertical surfaces like lizards. But then, Jak had never really been one for obeying conventional ideas of what humans were supposed to be able to do. He crept down the tower, following the clockwise path Daxter pointed out to him. After about two more levels, the walls would become sheer metal, and they would run out of handholds. They would have to switch to indoors then -- provided Jak's dark eco didn't run out and cause them to fall to their deaths.

The window in the pump room had been left open. This would have been suspiciously convenient in most cases, but the rain brought cooler air, and open windows were to be found all across the city to take advantage of it. Jak shimmied in through the foot-wide space and hopped lightly down over pipes and gears. They would have to be careful here: one wrong move could damage the water filtration system and cause problems for a lot of innocent people. Jak eased up beside the open doorway and craned his neck to check the hall.

Perfect.

Taking advantage of the pump room's noise to drown out his grunt of pain, Jak let the dark eco subside, drawing it back into his core.

"Alright Dax, which way?" he whispered.

"Left. Er, my left- not yours. Stick to the ceiling when we get to the hall with the monks. After that it's just two antechambers to the way out."

Moving from room to room in almost complete silence, they met no resistance. Of course, they'd long since learned to avoid the traps hidden under the engraved floor tiles, and Jak put the ease of their journey down to experience.

Daxter wasn't so sure. Something felt...off.

The elevator -- the only true exit from the fortified tower -- sat at the edge of a carefully maintained indoor oasis. It had the rare quality of being both beautiful and strangely threatening -- like Tess, Daxter sometimes joked. Much of this was due to the vast dais sitting opposite the lift. Two braziers fastened to rough stone pillars provided the only illumination that didn't come from the window behind the dais, and what natural light there was had to filter through dozens of small date palms. Between the trees and huge carving set behind the throne, there were far too many shadowy places for an enemy to hide.

Jak was going to take full advantage of that.

Hopping from rock to rock, he deftly avoided the streams to make it to the wooden frame of the simple moving platform. He would have to be quick: pulling back the lever to call the platform up was going to make a lot of noise. The second the bar around the lever locked into place with a loud clank, Jak grabbed Daxter and darted into the shadows between two palms to hide in case someone came to investigate.

He had scarcely turned around when he realized someone was already standing where he had just been. How had he missed them?!

Broad shoulders, heavy bracers, otherwise slight build. This wouldn't be an easy fight if it was who Jak suspected it was. But they were the last obstacle between Jak and freedom, and he'd come too far to back down now.

The person turned as Jak left the trees, and firelight caught on glimmering shards of Precursor metal, set into his skull.

Ah. Of course.

"Dune-Wolf," Jak greeted the warrior casually.

"Escapee," the Dune-Wolf returned.

"Can't keep me here forever, Dune-Wolf," Jak challenged, stepping in a careful circle around the man.

"It's the middle of the storm season, of course I can," the warlord scoffed.

Daxter shook out his arms and took a ready stance at Jak's side. "Better hope you locked the front gate, pal, because we're outta here!"

King Damas raised a brow, and the corner of his mouth twitched up. "Are you now? I wouldn't be so sure of that."

He shifted one foot back, and raised his staff. "You will not set one foot past me."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Jak retorted, and he charged.

The faint sting of old bruises reminded him to jump -- Damas liked sweeping his opponents' legs out from under them -- and he used his momentum to sail over the staff and land to the king's left. His feet had barely made contact with the floor before Damas’s own momentum caught up to him. Damas followed his swing through by pivoting and catching Jak across the midsection with the staff. Jak flew backwards into one of the streams with the wind knocked out of him.

Daxter ducked the staff with a screech and actually leaped up onto it. He clung for dear life while Damas paused in an attempt to shake him off before shrugging and picking him up by the scruff of the neck. Jak surged out of the water like a sea monster to grasp the staff and try to pull it from Damas’s hands. Forced to choose which opponent to focus on, Damas released Daxter just in time for Jak to finally wrest the staff from his fingers and toss it across the room.

"Nice try," Jak panted, and dug in his heels as the two matched grips.

For a moment, neither gave way, but ultimately, Damas had the advantage of size.

He shifted stance for one instant and swept Jak's feet out from under him. Jak landed hard, and before he could get his elbows under him, a hand came down on the back of his neck, anchoring him in place. Jak froze, well accustomed by now to the irritating consequences of failure. Damas crouched beside him, and when Jak strained his eyes to get a look at the king, he was smirking.

"Nice try," he echoed. He let go and stood back to let Jak sit up. "I told you, you can't get past me."

Jak bent slightly to catch his breath, begrudgingly admitting defeat. But then he grinned and pointed past Damas.

"Then who's in the elevator?"

Damas whirled to see Daxter, waving at him from inside. Going for the staff had been a ploy: Jak had never intended to win the fight.

"Got past you this time, Dune-Wolf. A deal's a deal," Daxter crowed.

Jak mirrored his cocky grin.

"We got past you, so you have to let me take my last Arena trial before winter."

Damas grumbled good-naturedly and shook his head. "Why did I ever let you talk me into that?"

He leaned down and pulled Jak to his feet in a single motion.

"I probably should have specified that you both had to get past me. That's on me."

"Buuut," Jak pointed out, "you didn't specify. C'mon, Dune-Wolf, pay up."

"Don't call me Dune-Wolf," Damas sighed -- for the umpteenth time -- "enemies call me Dune-Wolf. Soldiers call me Dune-Wolf. You don't."

Jak flashed a cheeky grin at him. "Sure, sure, Damas."

Daxter could have sworn the warlord's eye twitched just a little.

"Alright, now you're just being impudent." Damas tweaked Jak’s ear. "It's either father, or dad to you."

Jak batted his hand away and rolled his eyes. "Man, I haven't had a father in twelve years! I'm not used to being someone's kid!"

It was truly a mark of progress that Damas didn’t respond to statement with a dampening of his mood, or a wince. Instead, he wrestled Jak into a playful headlock and scrubbed his knuckles across the boy’s scalp.

"Yeah? Well you live here, so you better start getting used to it!"

Jak snorted and tried to break free, but admittedly he was at an awkward angle and Damas did still have a height advantage.

"Ack! Leggo!"

"What? Put you upside down, you said?" Damas teased.

It wasn't an idle threat, that was how the last spar had ended.

"Okay okay!" Jak laughed and smacked Damas’s arm. "I yield! Let up, Dad!"

Damas eased his grip immediately, slackening the hold into a loose arm around Jak’s shoulders. "You did good, cub," he said warmly, "You're ready for the last trial."

"Told you we were!" Daxter chirped. "C'mon Jak, the sooner you get your zoomies out on the Playground of Death, the sooner we get to vote!"

"Aht! Breakfast first!"

Damas shifted one heel, and the next thing Daxter knew a foot had come out of nowhere to scoop him out of the elevator and up into the air. Jak caught him with a truncated curse and fumbled to set him on his shoulders.

"But we already ate!" He protested.

"We ate six raisins and a roll," Daxter tattled, "Lead the way, Mr. The Dad."

#part three #jak and daxter #jak and daxter au #prisoner exchange au #free day thursday #surprise free day thursday #dadmas #king damas #dadmas fluff #this is what bonding time looks like for the House of Mar #and yes i ABSOLUTELY stole the whole first scene from Raya and the Last Dragon and I Am Not Sorry #everyone in Haven: we sold him out! poor Jak is probably being forced to fight as a gladiator for those Wastelanders!#everyone in Spargus: Damas can you please make your kid take a break from the gladiatorial arena we're running out of metalheads #Damas: its this or give him unsupervised access to the vehicles #spargus: arena it is then.#fic prompts #writing prompts

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sleephyuns · 5 months

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I'm SO sorry about how long this is in advance but HOO BOY.

Okay so first off, YES to everything that you've said in your post, I'm so happy i gave you the Misamohyo brainrot and would like to expand upon it with some extra headcanons of my own based on what you're putting down: I love Sana being super affectionate and being really into skinship! it's so perfectly in character for her, and i'd like to think that, much like real life Jihyo, Jihyo would be all over it - giggly hugs, living marks all over each other (lipstick or hickies), Jihyo sweeping Sana off her feet and spinning her around, just absolutely disgustingly sugary sweet. Meanwhile, with the others, Jihyo enjoys skinship too but in different ways; with Mina, she's significantly softer and sweeter to match Mina's more mild-mannered, shy demeanor. The softest back hugs, arms wrapped around Mina's waist while gently kissing her cheek or nuzzling into her neck (which can sometimes get Mina flustered, possibly even horny since her neck would be really sensitive) or hands gently intertwined. Mina is Jihyo's softest baby and she treats Mina like an absolute princess, and Jihyo is Mina's dashing prince who will do ANYTHING for her in a heartbeat.

Momo is interesting, because they do have their more traditional affection - they still kiss each other and hold each other close - but it's physical in a way that's different from the other two. Arms slung around shoulders, sitting in each other's laps, sitting on random stairs together with their heads resting on each other's shoulders, and of course a preoccupation with rubbing each other's muscles or giving each other massages or random ass boob and crotch grabs. lol

I also looove everything you've put in about their sex life (futches who frot let's goooo!!) And would like to add that i think they'd also be interesting in what kind of kinks they're willing to indulge in each other as well. I'd like to think that Jihyo and Momo are the test cases for MiSana's experiments because they're so open to trying anything. Mina is by far *the* kinkiest, and while Sana wasn't as kinky as Mina was, over time it stuck with her too, so now the two just indulge in their freakiness with two girlfriends unafraid of indulging them.

I can definitely see some manner of exhibitionism fun being had with SaMo for example. Jihyo and Momo fucking in gym showers (like your alpha Mohyo fic), Sana taking her clothes off and daring Jihyo to fuck her on the balcony of a hotel room, etc. But i would love to hear your thoughts on what other kinkiness the four of them get up to.

I also truly believe their group sex would be amazing, with their favorite thing being picking someone to take turns pampering in bed. They tend to rotate but it's never boring, as they find all sorts of creative ways to help each other get off. Also? Since we're talking about breaking off in twos, I propose they idea that sometimes they'll take turns watching each other fuck; imagine MiSana touching each other while they watch Jihyo absolutely rail Momo from behind, or Sana sucking Momo's dick while Momo watches Jihyo take Mina in Missionary, it would go on and on and on.

Gonna answer this on the other ask you sent me :3c (Continued Here)

#ask #non rq #badgirl-down #misamohyo

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onceuponaloonatic · 9 months

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Please please please post it

here you go 😌 (major major spoilers so if you want to wait to read the whole fic later i highly suggest waiting until i start posting on ao3 soon)

Sana had always believed in soulmates.

She knew there was no proof of such a concept existing, no concrete evidence that the universe brought people together in any way, but that was just who she was. Some people called her overly optimistic or romantic, others said she was delusional. But Sana believed that everyone had a fated match, either platonically or romantically, and that in time, the universe would bring that person to you.

She had once thought of Momo as her soulmate.

Hirai Momo and Minatozaki Sana’s story started when they were nine years old. Sana had just moved to Seoul from Osaka, and she was terrified. Everything about the move had been overwhelming, the packing, the language barrier, the new place. Sana remembered studying her school introductions for hours, just trying to get the words out in a way that didn't scream foreigner. She was terrified of messing up and forgetting all the studying her parents had forced upon her. On her very first day of class, she stumbled through her introduction. She remembered wanting to cry when the words came out just slightly off. She remembered bursting out into tears when the teacher made a passing comment about how long her last name is and how difficult it will be for her to write in Korean. She's escorted to the nurses office, where she sobbed until lunch.

Momo was in a different class than her. She had come to the nurse with a busted up knee from a fall during recess where she found Sana sobbing in the bed. The nurse had already called Sana’s mother to come get her, and Sana was just waiting to be wrapped in a huge hug. Sana would never forget how Momo looked at her the first time she saw her.

“Why are you crying?” Momo asked, looking over Sana. Sana’s brain was struggling to process the Korean, and all she could do was respond with a quiet “I’m okay” in Japanese. She remembered how Momo’s eyes lit up in recognition of the language.

“Your Japanese!” Momo screamed in Japanese.

“You are too?” Sana sniffled.

“Yeah! I just moved here last year!” Momo winced as the nurse applied antiseptic to her bloody knees. “We should be friends.”

“Huh?”

“Well we're both Japanese right? We should be friends.” It wasn't the best logic, but nine year old Sana was just ecstatic to meet someone who understood her.

At twelve, Sana decides her and Momo are soulmates. They had been inseparable since they had met, and everyone around them just commented on how adorable they were. They had been given the nickname Samo by Sana’s father, a term they would continue to use for years. And even at a young age, Sana knew Momo understood her in a way no one else did. She knew Momo was a piece of her heart, and she knew it was vice versa.

Things weren't perfect, even at this young age. Momo always got defensive when talking about her family, and she would always insist that sleepovers happened at Sana’s house, not her own. She would always say things like “your parents seem to really like each other” or “it's nice your parents love you so much.” Sana was of course concerned, but she didn't know what to do.

They kiss for the first time in Sana’s bed, under the artificial star lights Sana’s dad had meticulously placed to be the same as they had been in Japan. Sana had joked about never having kissed anyone, and Momo had then decided the best person for Sana’s first kiss was her. Sana had thought it was silly, but also found herself looking forward to it. The entire thing dropped with childhood innocence, and they had both fallen into a laughing fit when they pulled away.

They meet Nayeon in high school, and she immediately falls into their little group. Nayeon is funny, charismatic, and most importantly seems to be the only person that can keep up with her and Momo. She latches onto them, and their duo becomes a trio.

Saan thinks Nayeon might be one of her platonic soulmates.

Their second kiss was much more intense. Sana was sixteen, and much more aware of the nature of kissing. Momo had kissed Sana like she needed her, like Sana was the thing she most desired. Sana remembered feeling fireworks going off in her mind as she hugged Momo closer, deepening the kiss. She can see Nayeon looking at her amused from the corner of her eye, and she knew if she pointed it out to Momo the spell would be broken so she closed her eyes and deepened the kiss. The next time they open, Nayeon is gone and the only thing on Sana’s mind was Momo.

In true Samo fashion, they both burst out confessions at the same time, leading to more giggles and even more kissing. It had all been a little cliche, the childhood friends to lover troupe, but Sana found herself believing it to be the universe telling her this person was her soulmate.

Nayeon warned her about falling too far too fast. But Sana didn't listen (she never does when it comes to Momo).

By college, the two are practically married. They aren't officially married, of course, but they moved in together during their second year of college. They had now been dating for four years, and Sana had thought they were unbreakable.

Nayeon lives down the hall from them, and was over practically every night she wasn't at a party. Sana had gotten used to Nayeon’s presence, going as far as to tease her that she was Sana and Momo’s teenage daughter. Nayeon would stick her tongue out and then ask for an allowance. (Sana appreciated Nayeon’s presence whenever Momo was gone, Sana hated being alone).

Momo always had late classes. It was part of her major, and she was always wiped when she came home. Sana was in the habit of pulling Momo into her lap when she got home and raining kisses while Momo whined that she needed to take a shower (they both know she's not serious). But one day, Momo comes home with someone else in tow.

“Oi Sana, close the window while you’re over there, it's freezing.” Nayeon complained, wrapping the blanket further around her shoulders as she watched her favorite kdrama.

“So demanding. Didn't I raise you better?” Sana giggled, closing the window as she moved to sit next to Nayeon on the couch.

“Shut up.” Nayeon groaned, taking a bite of her orange. “When’s Momo coming home?”

“She should be home anytime now.” Sana glanced at her phone, smiling at the picture of her and Momo occupying her lock screen.

“You are so whipped.” Nayeon rolled her eyes, playfully throwing a piece of popcorn at Sana’s head.

“Hey!” Sana giggled. “Not all of us are painfully single, you know.”

“I’m not painfully single. I'm fun single.” Nayeon giggled.

“Uh-huh.” Sana rolled her eyes. The annoyance quickly melted off her face when she heard the door unlock, immediately popping up to greet Momo. She runs over to her girlfriend, immediately wrapping her up in a hug as Momo struggles to get her shoes off.

“Sana-ya let me take my shoes off.” Momo faked annoyance as Sana smiled at her.

“No. Hug first.”

“Such a needy girlfriend.” Momo giggled, leaning down to give Sana a kiss. “Hi baby.”

“Hi.” Sana could feel a goofy grin stretch across her face at the greeting. She was surprised when someone cleared their throat, and that was when she noticed someone next to Momo.

“Oh right, sorry.” Momo giggled. “Jihyo, this is my girlfriend Sana. Sana, this is Jihyo. We have Bio together.” Sana peeked over at the woman next to her girlfriend, putting a friendly smile on her face as she greeted her.

“I can see what Momo was saying about you was true.” Jihyo giggled.

“What were you saying about me?” Sana playfully glared at her girlfriend.

“That you are wonderful, perfect, beautiful and-” Momo cut herself off as she lifted Sana by her waist, throwing her over her shoulder. “A cuddle monster.” Sana continued to giggle as Momo swung her around. Once Momo set her down, Sana quickly schooled her features and went into host mode.

“Are you here to study with Momo?” Sana addressed Jihyo.

“Yeah, if that's okay.” The shorter woman grinned.

“I suppose I can lend her out for a few hours.” Sana smiled.

“Sana-ya is that Momo? Did she bring take out?” Sana giggled when she heard Nayeon, moving away from the small entryway to make space for Jihyo and Momo to move around.

“Hey Nayeon Unnie. Are you being a freeloader again?” Momo teased.

“I pay you guys back!” Nayeon protested. “I bought you dinner last week so you owe-” Nayeon paused in the middle of talking, and Sana followed her gaze to see she just noticed Jihyo. A blush quickly spread on Nayeon’s face.

“I’m Jihyo, are you Nayeon? Momo told me about you too.” Jihyo seemed amused with Nayeon’s antics.

“Yeah….” Nayeon trailed off. “It's nice to meet you.” Sana giggled at Nayeon’s blush, and noticed the amusement in Jihyo's eyes as she watched Nayeon.

“It's nice to meet you too.”

Sana had watched Nayeon and Jihyo fall in love.

Nayeon had always been this huge personality, the center of attention whenever she walked into a room. She knew the girl relished in attention just as much as Sana, but also knew Nayeon needed someone who could tame her more wild streaks. She had watched as Nayeon had gone through multiple short relationships only for them to end in Nayeon sobbing in her living room at one in the morning.

Jihyo was the perfect person for someone like Nayeon. Their personalities were a perfect fit, and Sana could tell that Nayeon was genuinely happy with Jihyo. Nayeon called her delusional when Sana teased her about having a double wedding. Sana loves seeing her best friend happy, and she starts to think that maybe her platonic soulmate had found her soulmate.

“Sana-ya.” Nayeon whined as Sana rubbed at her eyelid. “Stop.”

“I’m just fixing your eye shadow.” Sana giggled, grabbing the eye shadow palette next to her.

“I can do it.” Nayeon rolled her eyes. “You should focus on yourself, it’s your wedding.” Nayeon giggled, grabbing the makeup brush from Sana.

“Sorry.” Sana giggled. “Pre-wedding jitters.”

“I know. I’m used to your craziness.” Nayeon grinned, watching in the mirror as Sana moved back to her seat. “Nervous?”

“Not really? Just excited.” Sana laughed, looking at herself in the mirror. She smiled at the fancy updo in her hair. “And terrified of my mother in law.”

“You know, I think that’s a normal fear.” Nayeon smiled, putting the makeup brush down and reaching over to brush Sana’s bangs out of her face. “Stop fidgeting, you look beautiful.”

“Well isn’t this hot,” Sana giggled when she heard Jihyo’s joking voice. Nayeon’s face broke out into the biggest smile.

“Hi Hyo,” Sana laughed as Jihyo came over to Nayeon. Nayeon instinctively reached for Jihyo’s hand, and she saw the way Nayeon’s eyes drifted to her ring finger. Sana knew the feeling of wanting to see how an engagement ring glittered in the light.

“Hello,” Jihyo smiled. “Ready?”

“Of course,” Sana smiled. “How’s Momo?”

“Do you really want to know?” Jihyo laughed.

“I would like to know if my future wife is freaking out.” Sana giggled.

“Well of course she is, it’s a big day.” Jihyo unlaced her hand with Nayeon and slung her arm over her shoulder. “She’ll be fine.”

“I’m going to call her,” Sana nodded, immediately going for her phone. She watches as Jihyo whispers something to Nayeon, the two of them giggling as they watch Sana. She knew they were teasing her, but she also loved seeing people she loved so happy.

Nayeon had always admired Sana and Momo’s relationship. From the day she met them, she knew they were going to be together one day. She could see all the glances and the smiles, and she knew they were meant for each other.

Nayeon doesn’t believe in soulmates, but she knows that Sana and Momo are meant for each other.

Nayeon had pushed the two of them together. She didn’t like to brag about her skills, but she had been the one to convince Momo to kiss Sana. She had watched the two of them dance around each other for months, and had decided to take it upon herself to set the two of them up. They fell in love right before Nayeon’s eyes.

Nayeon can’t help but feel jealous of the two of them. She knew she shouldn’t, but it was hard to not be jealous of a relationship as perfect as Sana and Momo’s.

Everything changes when she meets Park Jihyo.

Sana had teased her relentlessly after Nayeon’s awkward display in Sana’s apartment hallway. Nayeon remembered blushing as Sana whispered to her that she had a crush while Momo and Jihyo were studying in the other room.

Sana is the one to set them up. She had invited Nayeon to dinner, and then bailed on her ten minutes after the agreed upon time. She was annoyed until Park Jihyo ran into the restaurant, messy hair and a panicked look. She immediately noticed Nayeon, a grin on her face as she approached her. Apparently, Momo had ditched her too.

Neither say that’s their first date, but when they celebrate their first anniversary, they use that day.

Jihyo was easy to love. She was the first person Nayeon had met that was as competitive as her. The first person that even tried to keep up with her. The first person to ever make Nayeon feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. Jihyo always went the extra mile to make sure Nayeon knew she was special, and Nayeon felt herself fall much faster than she thought possible.

It had always seemed like they were a couple steps behind Sana and Momo. They had gotten moved in together a couple years after they had, they got engaged a couple months after them, and married within the same year.

Nayeon had never believed in soulmates, but at one point in her life, she had thought Jihyo was the perfect person for her.

Hyemi only brings them closer together, at least at first. Nayeon had always known she wanted to be a mother one day. She loved kids, and Nayeon knew Jihyo was going to be an amazing mother some day. Nayeon’s mother had always been dead set on being a grandmother, and the minute Nayeon and Jihyo had settled down she had begun hounding them about it. Jihyo is in her residency when they decide to have Hyemi.

“You can leave me alone Jihyo, I'll be fine.” Nayeon groaned, resting her back against the wall behind her.

“What kind of wife would that make me?” Jihyo giggled, bringing a warm towel over and laying it on the back of Nayeon’s neck. She sits down next to Nayeon, wrapping her arms around her.

“What about work?”

“Took a day off.” Jihyo smiled, moving Nayeon’s face to the crook of her neck. She rubs a hand on Nayeon’s back as she lays a kiss on her hair.

“Jihyo… You didn’t have to do that.” Nayeon muttered.

“Nu-uh. This parenting thing is something we agreed to do together.” Jihyo muttered. “Your pain is my pain.”

“Cheesy.” Nayeon muttered.

“Shut it.” Jihyo giggled. “Do you feel well enough to move to the bed?”

“Don’t want to throw up on the sheets.” Nayeon mumbled.

“Okay.” Jihyo moved one hand to Nayeon’s stomach.

“Your baby says hi.” Nayeon muttered.

“My baby?” Jihyo laughed.

“Only yours.” Nayeon groaned, feeling bile start to creep up her throat again. She gently pulled away from Jihyo, moving so she wouldn’t throw up on her. Nayeon half expects Jihyo to be at least a little disgusted, but all her wife does is move her hand and gently rub Nayeon’s back.

Sana remembered the day Hyemi was born very well. Her and Momo had been at the hospital the minute Jihyo had called them, and Sana had watched as Jihyo paced up and down the hallway. (Apparently, Nayeon had kicked her out temporarily because she was worrying too much. Sana thinks this is super in character for the two of them.)

Hyemi was born in the middle of the night, and she remembers Jihyo shaking her and Momo awake from where they had camped out in the hospital waiting room. Jihyo had the goofiest grin on her face, and Sana remembered thinking how happy she looked. Nayeon had some difficulties in her labor, so the first time Jihyo pulls them into their room, Nayeon is completely passed out. Hyemi is next to her, wrapped in a white and purple blanket. Jihyo looked so happy as Sana and Momo met their niece for the first time, Sana had no idea what was going to happen next.

Nayeon had changed after Hyemi was born. Sana had noticed it almost immediately, and she knew Momo and Jihyo had picked up on it as well. Nayeon had seemed more withdrawn after Hyemi was born, much more quiet than she had been before. At first, Sana had chalked it up to the meds. Nayeon had been through a traumatic birth experience, and Jihyo and Momo had both said Nayeon would need some time to recover.

Nayeon still smiles whenever Sana visits, she still gives Sana hugs and she still seems absolutely enamored with Hyemi, but Sana could just feel that something was wrong.

She had no idea how bad it would get.

Nayeon had always thought Sana was a total sweetheart. She was the type of girl that loved with her whole heart. She wore her heart on her sleeve, and she put her all into the people she loved. Nayeon loved being Sana’s friend, her best friend other than Momo, but she also felt extremely anxious over Sana. She was constantly terrified of the many ways Sana could get hurt, of the ways people could hurt Sana.

She never imagined the person who hurt Sana the most would be Momo.

She had watched as Sana, the girl who was famously banned from the kitchen, would go out of her way to “make” Momo the prettiest lunches (everyone knew the food was store bought, but no one ever says anything, it's a secret they had all silently agreed to keep). She watched the genuine smiles Sana would give Momo, the amount of attention and love Sana would shower upon her wife every moment of the day. She would watch as Sana would know, just instinctively, that Momo needed some space and to pull herself back. She watched as Sana never complained about Momo's need for space, and would always have the biggest grin whenever she was reunited with her wife. She watched as Sana gave Momo her everything. And she watched Momo slowly throw it all away.

Nico had been an extremely welcome addition to Sana and Momo’s family. Nayeon had seen them attempt to get pregnant for months, and how genuinely excited Sana was when they finally made the announcement. Nico was doted on by both of her mothers the day she was born, and everyone can just see how happy Sana and Momo are. (Nayeon ignores the little voice in the back of her head when she sees her best friend's family). Nico was loved by everyone in her life, and Nayeon thinks that's why it was so difficult for Sana and Momo when they got the diagnosis.

No one had expected Nico to be sick. It seemingly came out of nowhere, and Nayeon could see how much it wrecked her friends. They were both emotional, and Nayeon could never imagine the pain they were put through those first few years of Nico’s life. But, she starts to notice things after a while.

Nico’s treatment had become a seemingly touchy subject between Sana and Momo. Nayeon was extremely surprised by this, she had never seen Sana and Momo seriously fight and suddenly that seemed like all they could do. It starts small (it always does) but suddenly there's sides being taken and lines being drawn and Nayeon finds herself blindsided by the whole thing. She knows that everyone processes grief differently, and that different people need different things, but it quickly becomes apparent to Nayeon that Momo processes her grief with anger. (Nayeon does the same thing, so she's not surprised she noticed it so fast). Momo was not usually a super outspoken person, Nayeon had never seen her instigate anything beyond playful arguments before, and suddenly it felt like all she could do was argue with Sana. And Nayeon saw how much it wrecked Sana.

She was the opposite of them. She didn't process her grief with anger, she processed her emotions with sadness and compassion. Sana liked to be hugged, to cry out her problems while someone whispered to her everything was going to be okay. (Nayeon thinks maybe Sana is healthier than her, at least in that regard, but her therapist always told her to be less critical of herself).

Momo’s anger only gets worse the worse Nico’s condition gets, and Nayeon can see she's trying to hold herself back for Sana and Nico’s sake. She watched Momo take deep breath after deep breath, count to ten forwards and backwards in Korean and Japanese, and she watched as Momo loses herself in the fight against her own emotions.

Momo doesn't snap or hurt Sana physically or anything like that. But she does start to isolate herself. She starts working more and more and the petty arguments continue until they both reach a boiling point. Sana retreats into a deep depression, and Momo retreats into her job.

Nayeon had tried to desperately put Sana and Momo both back together, but it feels like she's grasping at straws. It all becomes too much when Jihyo decides they should pick sides. Nayeon knows it's her wife’s attempt to keep Sana and Momo non hostile. If Nayeon could focus on Sana, and Jihyo could focus on Momo, they might be able to put their friends back together again.

And then six months later, Nayeon catches Jihyo and Momo making out in Jihyo’s office.

#twice #minatozaki sana #im nayeon #hirai momo #park jihyo #should i tag nahyo and samo?#like the make appearances #i'll just tag them they have their moments #nahyo #samo

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